A/N: So this is my first story, I hope you enjoy it! :) Please review! :)

Disclaimer: I dont own Glee, but Santa, if your reading this, thats number one on my wish list! :)


Snuggled together on the loveseat, I lay my head on Blaine's chest. I breathe in, and Blaine's familiar scent fills my nostrils. I lean into my boyfriend's chest, contented. Dad and Carole are getting the moving van, and Finn is at Rachel's, saying goodbye. Blaine and I opted to stay home and celebrate our last day together in Lima before we head off to New York tonight.

"You know, Kurt? I have the biggest craving for one of your cookies," Blaine says kissing the top of my head.

"Well, then let's make some!" I say with a laugh, taking my boyfriend's hand and pulling him towards the kitchen. We instantly fall into our routine of me scrambling for ingredients, and Blaine perching on the counter and fiddling with the radio dial. I set the preheat to 425, and then begin to measure out the flour as Blaine watches. He finds the local Top 40 station, which at the moment is playing the latest Kanye West/Jay-Z track. "You know, you could help!"

"Nah, I'd rather watch you. You're so cute when you cook!"

I shoot him a look, and hand him a stick of butter. "Soften," I command. When he cocks his head in confusion, I add, "with your hands!"

"Oh," he chuckles and begins to suggestively knead the butter. I roll my eyes, letting the faintest hint of a smile play across my lips. Blaine laughs at my look of annoyance.

"I'm helping!" He points out, continuing to massage the stick of butter.

"Don't be getting too friendly now," I say with a smirk. "This other stick might get jealous."

"Kurt Hummel!" Blaine cries, raising his eyebrows. I laugh and hold out another stick of butter.

"The recipe calls for a whole cup of butter, Blainey dearest." He takes it, blushing. I laugh and turn towards the mixing bowl. "Could you pass me the sugar, sugar?" Blaine grins and passes me the bag. I accept it, and begin to measure out the right amount. Still sitting on the counter, Blaine continues to soften his butter with a slight, knowing grin.

"Am I missing something?" I ask. Blaine looks up at me.

"Oh no, not at all. I'm just really having fun with this butter!"

"Okay, as long as you're not plotting to elope with it," I say, jokingly. Blaine blinks. "I don't think I could be with a guy who'd marry a stick of butter over me," I add.

There's a flash of something unrecognizable in his hazel eyes, before he grins and replies, "Don't worry, I'd choose you over butter any day!"

"Gee, it sounds like you're trying to butter me up." I wink and take the butter from Blaine, who begins softening the second, jealous stick.

While I'm waiting on the rest of the butter, I grab the beater from the cupboard and begin to cream the first stick of butter. We fall into a comfortable silence, just the sound of the beater and the newest Mariah Carey song playing on the radio. I turn around to ask Blaine for the next stick, and begin to chuckle when I see him lip-syncing into the butter. When he notices me, he comes down from his musical reverie and an embarrassed smile spreads across his mouth.

Putting my hand out, I say "I kind of need your microphone."

Blaine relinquishes the butter, and I accept it with a smile. "Time for your next job. You get to measure the vanilla." I say handing him the bottle and a teaspoon. Standing up, he comes over to me and the mixing bowl.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" he asks brandishing the bottle precariously.

"Oh, you'll be-" I begin before I'm cut off by the sound of shattering glass. I look to see Blaine holding an empty teaspoon a pool of vanilla and shattered glass spreading around his feet. When our eyes meet I can tell he's biting back a laugh. "BLAINE!" I cry, "WHAT HAPPENED?"

"It was an accident!" he exclaims, "I'm sorry." he adds in a softer tone, when he sees how angry I am.

"Blaine, that was PURE vanilla! Do you know how much that costs?"

I glare at my boyfriend who gives me the most adorable puppy dog look, "I love you." he adds tentatively.

I can't stay mad at him for too long, with a roll of my eyes; I go to the cupboard and grab a new bottle of vanilla. "You are so lucky I have this." I say taking the teaspoon from him, and measuring the vanilla-the right way.

"Clean this up." I sigh, and go back to my mixing bowl. As Blaine begins his search for a rag, I look down at my jeans to see I'm splattered with vanilla. "Oh, great." Now I'm all wet, Blaine," I huff. He lifts his head and his hazel eyes suggest-I don't even want to think about it. "Don't even," I groan, taking back my previous thought about how perfect a boyfriend I had.

Blaine comes over and apologetically wraps his around my waist. "Is there anything else I can do?" he whispers in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers up my spine.

Leaning into him, I reply, "You could tap this." He pulls away, just slightly, taken aback by my sudden forwardness, before leaning in closer than before and whispering in as seductive voice as he could muster, "Anytime."

I turn and wrap my arms around his neck, and lean in for a lingering kiss. Pulling away, I ask, "How about now?"

Blaine blinks, and stutters, "R-right now?"

I nod, biting my lip, "Yeah." I breathe.

"I-In the kitchen?" he asks incredulously, his voice raising an octave.

"On the counter." I reply, trying to sound as sexy as possible while fighting back a laugh. My boyfriend's eyes are practically bugging out of his head when I hand him the dry ingredients. "Tap this," I reiterate, gesturing to the dry ingredients, "into the bowl." I allow myself the laugh I've been holding back, as Blaine stutters.

Blaine turns an unsightly shade of crimson in utter embarrassment. I double over in laughter as he stands before me, sputtering.

"You... demon!" he spits, sending a barrage of chocolate chips in my direction. I gasp, and toss some leftover sugar back at him. He pinches flour, and I back away. "No—"

"Yes," Blaine says, devilish grin crossing his face.

"No!" I turn away, but not before Blaine hits me full in the front with the powder. "Blaine! This is—this is Armani!"

"Sorry," he says, and tosses more flour my way, for good measure.

"Come on, Blaine, let's hurry up and get these done," I lament, brushing what I can from the front of my sweater.

"Oh, fine." Reluctantly, Blaine takes the mixing bowl and begins tapping in the dry ingredients as I mix. We fall into comfortable rhythm, the only sounds being the hum of the KitchenAid, and the soft sigh of our breathing.

Suddenly, the preheat timer goes off, filling the idyllic silence of the kitchen with a shrill shrieking. Blaine jumps, nearly dropping the dry ingredients, and, with a pointed look, I mutter "Normally, I have the cookies on the pan by now." Blaine looks offended as I continue, "If you hadn't been distracting me this whole time, maybe it wouldn't have taken this long. Now hurry up and help me finish."

When we finally complete the dough, I scoop a finger-full and sample it. "Mmmm!" I sigh, "Perfection. Wanna try some?" I ask, holding out my finger.

"I'd love to," Blaine says, grinning warmly. Ignoring my extended finger, he leans forward, connecting our lips. His tongue traces my mouth, tasting for traces of cookie dough. Tilting my head to deepen the kiss, I allow his begging tongue to enter, and just like every other time he's kissed me in the past year, I can feel myself begin to lose control.

BEEEEEEEPPPP! The oven timer goes off again, signaling its electronic impatience at our delay. Reluctantly pulling away, I mutter "Damn you oven!" Simultaneously, Blaine breathes, "Wow. That was perfect."

I smile, lick the remaining cookie dough from my finger, and turn to wash my hands. Blaine follows, and we start to make quick work of the cookies, Blaine making slightly crooked rows, and I straight columns.

After Blaine places the first cookie sheet on the oven rack, I set the timer for eight minutes. As soon as the oven door shuts, the familiar introduction to Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream" fills the kitchen.

I turn to Blaine, grinning stupidly as he begins singing.

You think I'm pretty, without any makeup on, you think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong.

He falls into the Warblers' dance to the song, a ridiculous excess of step touching with an occasional snap, which takes me back to the day we first met.

In retrospect, I really was a terrible spy.

There was no way he could have known what was to come, but it seems the song choice was intentional. And as Blaine sang, I swear it was meant for me.

By the time the song was done, I had fallen in love.

You make me feel like I'm living a Teenage Dream, the way you turn me on I can't sleep, let's run away and don't ever look back.

I stand, watching raptly, as I had done almost two years before, but this time, as the song segues into the second chorus, Blaine grabs my hand. He pulls me into the center of the small kitchen, where he spins me around to the beat of the song.

Like the song says, my heart is racing as Blaine and I dance, the song building to a crescendo.

The final note sounds through the room, and Blaine and I break apart. I turn to check on the cookies, grinning to myself.

-Now that one goes out to all the couples feeling nostalgic tonight, but especially Kurt and Blaine from Lima. Congratulations…-

Huh? I turn back around to see Blaine kneeling in front of me, holding a small black box. My heart races. "Blaine?" I gasp.

"Kurt…" He steadies himself, taking a deep breath. "I know this might seem sudden, but… I've envisioned this moment since the day we met, and I couldn't imagine it being with anyone but you. I know you're all about once upon a time, prince charming and the fairytale endings, but I don't need any of that, as long as you're there, standing with me. And now that we're starting this new chapter in our lives, I want to write it with you." And with that, he opens the box. "Kurt Hummel, will you be my happily ever after?"

I'm covered in flour, pants soaked in vanilla, and I'm fairly certain there are still chocolate chips in my hair, but in this moment, I have never felt more—exhilarated.

"Blaine—I—I—"

"Kurt, it's legal there… and we'll be together in college, we can get an apartment… You can think about it."

"No."

His face falls. "Kurt-"

"No. I don't need to think about it. Blaine, of course I… Of course I'll marry you." The words feel so foreign, so new, and so… right.

Blaine stands up, slides the ring onto my finger, and places his lips on mine—a chaste, nervous kiss, like the ones we shared when we first started dating. Bliss.

BBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPP!

Pulling away, Blaine turns to glare at the oven "You know, for a timer, you have AWFUL timing!" He scolds.

We laugh, and Blaine puts his arms around me. Just then, Stefani Germanotta's voice swells through the room, defining the moment.

I'm gonna marry the night; I won't give up on my life…

Lady GaGa's ode to both marriage and New York fills the contented silence, as I lean into Blaine.

Suddenly, the poignancy of the situation hits me. I chuckle.

"What?" he asks, looking into my eyes.

"Nothing… It's just we're literally riding off into the sunset together."

Blaine smiles and I close my eyes, letting the song fill the moment.

I'm gonna marry the night.


I've had the bestest time writing this with my LOVELY cousinbuddy HPontmercy. This story doubles as both a oneshot, and the prequel to her Marry The Night series, soon to be posted on her page. (H: "Check me out, bitches! :3" S: "Inappropriate!" H: "My sincerest apologies." S: You're just saying that to make yourself look better online. H: Honestly! Cross my heart and hope to lie! S: *glowers* H: "Hey…" S:… you know what, I'm not going to make you sit through the rest of the conversation. Just know it was quite interesting. H: "Or as I would say in my broken Spanglish, Muy interesante." S: WOW.) But yeah, check her out, she's perdy supermegafoxyawesomehot (H: Yay! I get an AVPM quote) Anyways….this was a three way collab, (Not that way! Get your mind out of the gutter!) Since HPontmercy's sister (my other, younger, cousin) supplied quips and grammar help (Yes, I do take advice from 12 year olds ) So, read, rate, review, what evs. I've been told to hype a story for my wonderful cousin, so I recommend HPontmercy's story, Magnus Bane Was A Surprisingly Terrible Kisser. Oh, this is also my first foray into the fanfiction universe. Thanks again to H and K for the help

For the record, I was normal…curse you cousin buddy…. *insert scowl (and as prompted by K, British accent) here* (I also have a fantastic British accent…) until, the lovely H told me to be a supportive cousinbuddy and read her stories. (K: involving smut and Yaoi.(yumm)) S: is anyone else scared?

Sorry for the long A/N! (Not really, it was too much fun! ) Hope you enjoyed my story