A/N: This one shot is based on the following prompts...
anonymous prompted: Kurt posing for Blaine!
bravelywriteon (tumblr) prompted: Anything about Blaine and his passion for photography. When did he start, why he is passionate about it, what does he do with it after college (maybe a photo shoot with/without Kurt?)
The deadline was fast approaching for the completion and presentation of Blaine's senior portfolio. In his final semester of the photography program at NYU, Blaine was beginning to feel the pressure, but it was the good kind of pressure and anxiety that propelled him forward and toward graduation. Perhaps some days moved too quickly, in a flash of chemicals and dark rooms and toting equipment to and fro at various times of the day to get the perfect shots.
But when he'd sat down, final product before him, carefully arranging the photographs in such a way to tell a story, to tell his story, he suddenly had this feeling in his gut that something was off and not quite right. All the photographs were gorgeous and meaningful, but as he leafed through them again and again, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
The longer he sat there trying to rack his brains for the answer, the more frustrated he became, unable to put his finger on it, to figure out what that final crucial component was that he needed to top off the portfolio.
To avoid pulling out his hair, Blaine rose from his seat, left the apartment, and went for a walk through the city to clear his mind.
Spring had arrived, the sun was being generous, and as he walked, hands in his pockets, a cool breeze whipped at his open blazer, his steady stride slowing a bit as he began to look around at his surroundings. Everything was so familiar now when New York City once felt like an impossible pipe dream, the perfect fairytale fantasy he'd only be able to experience through books and magazines, film and television, and college brochures, through which he was fated to live vicariously. But he was here, in the West Village of all places, and he took in a deep breath, exhaling as he gazed at the buildings and people he passed.
When Blaine reached the edge of Washington Square Park, he took the winding pathway through the trees almost around the perimeter until he was at the Arch. It seemed that several others had the same idea as he had, to visit the park, and there was a large crowd gathered in the area around the central fountain. Some were chattering, some eating, and others were just lounging on the benches along the walk, and Blaine turned and headed for the fountain, taking a seat on the inside lip of the gray, stone basin.
Staring into the water just past his feet, Blaine simply sat and listened, absorbing all the life and energy of the city, the noise the water made as it shot out of the round center and slapped the surface of the pool below, the shouting of the children playing around it, so carefree. As tempted as he was to preserve these sights and this feeling, Blaine was glad that he hadn't brought a camera along, because he wanted to soak it all in and just live in the moment.
Ever since he was young, Blaine always felt the need to transcribe and translate the world around him, to freeze pieces of it in time, to share his perspective with other people, because he was constantly in awe, amazed at the diversity of beauty in the world. He started out doodling as children often do, but he produced nothing extraordinary. It wasn't until Blaine received his first camera for his tenth birthday that he knew he had found his niche and his calling.
Flash forward seven years, and Blaine's hobby had evolved into a passion, the thing he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing and turn into a career if he could. Although Blaine had been allowed to take a few classes and had won a few contests with his work, his parents weren't particularly enthused about his idea of pursuing photography at a university, but they cut down on costs, Blaine would stay close to home and attend a college in state. And though he longed to be in New York and to live amongst other artists, Blaine settled and accepted what his parents were generous enough to provide him.
The breeze rustled the leaves on the trees and sent the branches gently swaying. Blaine closed his eyes. And he thought of that summer day at the conservatory in Columbus when he was surrounded by butterflies, flowers, and delicate artwork, but all he could focus on was Kurt, the way he moved, the way the sunlight hit his pale skin and chestnut hair, how his lithe body bent when he kneeled or leaned to get a better look at something. It was as if Blaine's camera had a mind of its own, knowing exactly where to focus, on the most incredibly beautiful subject in the entirety of the place.
In that moment, it was like a blinding flashbulb popped inside Blaine's head, and his eyes flew open, his head tilting up toward the sky, everything now so clear, so vivid.
Kurt.
It should have been obvious, and Blaine felt a grin take over his face at the revelation. It was really quite simple. Kurt was what was missing, the most crucial entity of his story and his journey the past two years, Kurt was what Blaine was most passionate about, and what better way to convey who Blaine was than to show the world the person who held Blaine's heart, his muse and one true love?
-s-
Kurt had been sitting reading a script, his face screwed up in concentration when Blaine practically tiptoed back into the apartment, shutting the door gingerly so as not to disturb him. But at the movement, Kurt looked up, the tension in his face melting away when he saw Blaine, and then he smiled.
That smile, that irresistible, shy yet dazzling smile that made Blaine feel like all was right in the world, that sent his heart racing and his feet moving as his body was pulled toward the man before him.
"I didn't know you were going out today," Kurt said, embracing Blaine and then pulling back.
"I hadn't planned to. I was working on my portfolio, and I just needed a break. I took a walk through the park, and it really helped put things into perspective."
"Like?"
"I'd realized that something was missing, and I wasn't satisfied with what I had. But then it came to me, Kurt. You came to me."
"What?" Kurt said, beginning to laugh. "What do you mean?"
"That summer when we met, it was a turning point in my life. You walked up to my truck - that silly little ice cream truck -, framed by the window, a living, breathing masterpiece, and I couldn't look away. And do you remember our first date?"
"Of course I do," Kurt said, looking down, a little bashful. "I was so mad at you for taking all those pictures of me, but really, I was already in love with you, and it became a bit of a game for me."
"And then you kissed me," Blaine said, his voice so soft.
Kurt smiled, this time feeling heat blossom in his face. "Yeah," he breathed. "And then I kissed you. I couldn't help myself, you know. I still can hardly hold back now that I have you to myself on a daily basis."
Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt's lips, and they both giggled through it.
"You're my muse, Kurt, and you've always been my muse. And you're what's missing from my portfolio. I know I have so many pictures of you already, but can you pose for me this time, so I can capture just the right moments? Like, how I see you, naturally flawless - perhaps even something a little intimate, unless that makes you uncomfortable," Blaine said.
"I did promise you I would, and I don't think we ever did a proper photoshoot, except for when you took my headshots for me. So, yes, of course. Whatever you want and whatever you need to complete your final coursework."
"Thank you so much, Kurt. God, I love you so much, and I don't know what I'd do without you."
"I often wonder the same thing," Kurt said with a grin.
"Can we - is it alright if we do it now before the sun goes down? The lighting in the bedroom is soft at this point in the day, and I was thinking the bed or the small chaise would be a perfect spot for you to sit or whatever - but nothing provocative, you know? Just…intimate. You, and me, and the camera," Blaine explained.
"Yeah, just let me, uh, well, do you need me to wear something specific?"
"Um, you can pick a few outfits out if you'd like, and we'll start from there."
The shoot was going smoothly, and Kurt was taking direction without any issue, so Blaine took advantage of the time Kurt was giving him and didn't stop even when he was fairly certain he had what he needed. It wasn't a matter of necessity, because Blaine was becoming greedy, almost intoxicated by how lovely Kurt looked, bold enough even to ask Kurt to remove layers, which he willingly did.
Blaine took several more pictures of Kurt, his torso now completely bare, muscles rippling beneath his alabaster skin as he turned and twisted his body gracefully into different poses. Blaine was completely in love with Kurt's body, and he allowed the camera to admire it some more. He played with the subtle ways the shadows shifted with the contours of Kurt's face when the light touched his skin from different angles. Each shot was uniquely beautiful, capturing the multiplicity of Kurt's beauty.
Finally, nearly exhausting the memory he had left on the digital camera and after going through an entire roll of film on his 35 millimeter, Blaine lowered the camera, taking in Kurt with just his eyes now. During the final pose, Kurt had been perched upright on the chaise, his exposed back toward Blaine, and Blaine suddenly felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs.
Breathless, pulse quickening, Blaine moved forward, his mouth finding Kurt's neck, then shoulder, and then a spot just between his shoulder blades.
"Are we finished?" Kurt asked, giggling a bit at the unexpected but very much welcomed contact.
Blaine took a step back.
Kurt had shivered and melted into the kisses, goosebumps rising over his arms, but at the absence of Blaine's touch, he turned around to meet Blaine's dark gaze.
Blaine swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, I have all the pictures I need." He paused, and then, "Kurt…"
Kurt tried to read the strange expression Blaine was wearing. Was it sadness? Fear? Apprehension? It was hard to tell, and his brow furrowed in response. "What's wrong, Blaine?"
"No, nothing. Nothing's wrong. In fact," Blaine dropped down to his knees before Kurt, reaching forward to grab his hands in his, and the gesture sent Kurt's heart racing. "Everything is right."
Blaine took a beat to compose himself the best he could, to prepare for what he was about to say next. "I love you, and I am so so lucky that you are mine. I want you to always be mine, Kurt - and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I could capture you in as many photographs as possible, but nothing compares to the moments that cannot be captured, the ones that don't transfer to film or any other medium."
Kurt grew very quiet, peering down at Blaine.
"Do you really mean that?" Kurt finally spoke, his voice like a quivering sigh.
"Yes. Every word of it, Kurt. I feel crazy right now, and I know this isn't the proper way to do it, because I haven't planned a damn thing, and I don't have a ring or anything like you deserve - god, you deserve everything, and I'd give you the moon and the stars if I could." The words tumbled out of Blaine's mouth, sounding so loud in the small room.
"Blaine," Kurt said, and Blaine quieted, Kurt's voice calming his nerves.
"I'm sorry, I'm not making much sense. What I mean to say is - Kurt," he swallowed thickly, "will you marry me?"
The heat in Kurt's face soon turned to moisture in his eyes. He couldn't form words, couldn't find the words to describe how he was feeling or to sufficiently answer. So he nodded, just sat there nodding until he finally found his voice.
"I've been waiting forever for you to ask. I don't need all the bells and whistles, Blaine. I just need you."
Blaine was in shock, and it took a moment to process Kurt's response before he leaped up off the floor, taking Kurt into his arms and then kissing him, deep and passionate, hot but filled with tenderness. Blaine's hands trailed up over thighs and hips to gingerly hold Kurt's waist, and Kurt flung his arms around the back of Blaine's neck, their bodies moving ever closer as they remained connected.
When they finally broke apart, Blaine's eyes were wet, but the smile he wore stretched a mile, his eyes squinty and shining with boundless bliss.
"Are we really doing this?"
"Yes," Kurt breathed.
"We're really really doing this?" Blaine repeated, still finding it hard to believe.
"Yes! Yes, Blaine, this is really happening!"
"Oh my god, Kurt, - I - I love you so much," Blaine said, and it was worth repeating ad infinitum, a phrase Blaine would never tire of.
"I love you too, Blaine. Now shut up and kiss me some more," Kurt said, fisting the front of Blaine's shirt and pulling his fiancé in toward him.
-s-
The studio was silent save for the soft shuffling of feet on the hardwood floor and murmurs of voices conversing privately, quietly as if not to upset the sanctity of the artwork.
After receiving numerous glowing critiques from his professors, Blaine and Kurt stood off in the corner, hands linked between them at their sides, Kurt's head leaning on Blaine's shoulder and eyes fixed on the wall display of his work. There was only one more professor he needed to impress before he knew his status, so they waited patiently.
"They're beautiful," Kurt said. "Sometimes I can't believe how talented you are, and then I see this and just - wow."
A woman with long, wavy, raven hair approached them, genial smile on her face, and Blaine gave her his attention when she addressed him.
"Blaine Anderson…" the professor began, trailing off as if she'd been rendered speechless while she studied his work. After jotting a few notes down on her clipboard, she clicked her pen and began to speak again. "What can I say? This is excellent work and highlights such a wide array of your talents." She turned her gaze on Kurt. "This must be him, your gorgeous model." She held her hand out. "Iris."
He took the offered hand. "Kurt Hummel. It's great to meet you, Iris," he said to the mononymous woman, briefly and firmly shaking, but she wouldn't let go when he tried to pull away.
"The pleasure is all mine - oh?" She paused, still holding Kurt's right hand, something on it, particularly on his middle finger, captivating her. "Smart man, Blaine. That ring is spectacular. Is this recent?"
"Very," Blaine answered, holding up his own hand to display a similar ring that complemented Kurt's. "Kurt's my fiancé," he said, his chest swelling with pride, certain that he'd never been prouder in his entire life.
"Congratulations, you two. That just sweetens the news I'm about to give, because I can say your portfolio has earned you an A, thus concluding your undergraduate studies. So it looks like you have even more to celebrate now." Iris winked, and Kurt tried to smile politely back, though the woman was making him a bit uneasy. He knew she meant well, she just had her eccentricities as most artsy types do, something with which Kurt certainly wasn't unfamiliar.
"Thank you," Blaine said with all sincerity.
Blaine almost couldn't believe it. One very large chapter of his life was officially drawing to a close, and he'd soon have a degree and be on his way toward a career. But this was by no means an ending. It was the beginning of something amazing, a new adventure, and he wasn't going it alone. Kurt would be there beside him, to love, to hold, to cherish, through thick and thin, and Blaine wouldn't have it any other way.