This is a re-write. I had it planned for Christmas 2016, I think.
"Merry Christmas to you! Merry Christmas to you! Merry Christmas dear yo-ou! Merry Christmas to you!" Blaine sings, tossing a handful of confetti in the air. He must have bought buckets of the stuff, Kurt thinks, watching the red, green, and gold shimmery pieces flutter to the ground to join their comrades piled an inch thick at his feet, attaching themselves to his skin and hair along the way.
"Question," Kurt says as he collapses his previous gift box and sets it aside for storage, "are you going to do that with every gift you give me? Because, at this rate, I may just drown."
"Yes," Blaine answers unapologetically. "But for this one especially." Blaine drops Kurt's last present in his lap – the largest box of the bunch, about the size of small cat carrier, wrapped in holographic, rose-gold paper. Kurt's eyes go wide.
"What on Earth …?" he picks up the box carefully, expecting it to weigh a ton, but it comes up so quickly that Kurt falls backward on the couch cushions. "What's in here?"
"It's a car," Blaine quips. "It's a surprise! I'm not going to tell you what's in it! You have to open it!"
"Aright, alright," Kurt mutters, searching for a side with an upturned corner or creased tape to get started. When he doesn't find one, he goes through the process again, bringing the present up close to his face to search out an opening he can slide his finger into so he won't ruin the paper.
"Uh" – Blaine begins tapping his toe when Kurt goes for a third rotation – "is there any chance you can hurry this along?"
"No," Kurt replies without batting an eyelash. "Now, shush. I have work to do." He finally finds a gap about a fraction of an inch wide on one of the square ends. He shoves a finger in, tears through the tape, and undresses the package, exposing a plain brown box underneath. "O-kay …" He turns it over, trying to find a store name or a brand, stymied when there isn't one, not a single clue to what might be inside. He stumbles on an openable edge and pulls it, upending the box and shaking it to reveal …
… another wrapped present. Kurt tosses aside the empty box and picks up the gift, wrapped in the same paper as the first. He looks up at his boyfriend, holding out the second wrapped gift for him to see. "What … what is this?"
"It's a present, silly!" Blaine giggles. "Open it!"
Kurt stares at Blaine, blinking in confusion, then returns to his gift. He tears through the paper (not being the least bit delicate with it this time), and finds another plain brown box. He locates the seam, opens it, turns it over, gives it a shake, and voila! Another wrapped present inside. He looks at his tittering boyfriend, unamused.
Blaine stares back at him, self-conscious. "What?"
"Are you drunk?"
"Nope. No. Not at all."
"Did you swipe someone's Adderall or something?"
"Kurt! I'm offended! Why would you even think that?"
"Because you're talking at 80 miles per hour and you're about to vibrate into another dimension."
"I'm just … super excited! That's all! Nothing more." It's not exactly a lie. Blaine hasn't touched a sip of alcohol. It's only ten in the morning. But he may have downed a half dozen cronuts since he woke up at three, and is now suffering from lack-of-sleep drunkenness compounded by a considerable sugar rush. But he had a good reason.
He's nervous as hell.
Kurt holds the box up to his ear and shakes it. He hears something shift inside, so he decides to try again, tearing through the paper, opening up the expected plain brown box, and shaking out the contents inside to find … another wrapped present. He looks over the torn paper he's accumulated so far, wondering if there's a clue in that that he's not seeing. The presents are all the same – same plain brown boxes wrapped in the same shimmery rose-gold paper - only they're getting progressively smaller.
"Is there an actual present somewhere in here?" Kurt asks, scrunching through the wrapping paper beside him on the couch and turning over the boxes he's already opened. "Or is this just some elaborate prank?"
"Hey! I put a lot of work into this!" Blaine complains. "So just keep going. Please? I promise it'll be worth it," he adds when Kurt frowns.
Kurt wishes that sometimes Blaine would be a little less theatrical with his gift giving. They're supposed to be hosting brunch for their friends and family in two hours, and Kurt isn't even out of his pajamas yet. That's because Blaine insisted they open their presents now instead of after dinner the way they usually do. And whatever's going on with this present in particular, Kurt knows it's the one that Blaine's been waiting for Kurt to open, considering how he kept it right beside him the entire morning, not letting it out of his sight for a second.
Kurt was afraid that it might be a puppy when he originally saw it. Or a kitten. Which is why he blew through the first twelve presents with record speed.
Luckily, that prediction seems to be false.
"Alright," he caves, attacking the next present, tearing through one side of the wrapping till he finds the predictable plain brown box, then ripping into that without even clearing the shredded paper aside.
Blaine watches, thoroughly satisfied with his plan, as Kurt goes from wrapped box to wrapped box with a frustrated grunt in between. Though, now that he thinks about it, Blaine doesn't remember wrapping this many boxes. He might have been a little buzzed off of powdered sugar and glaze at the time.
He knows he swore off indulging in sugary sweets years ago, but he just couldn't help himself. This is the biggest step they've taken in their relationship. It's not untimely, just huge, and he wants to make sure it goes off as planned, without any hitches. It took him months to figure out the right way to propose – something less over-the-top than the Dalton staircase fiasco. They've broken up and gotten back together twice already, and with so many shattered emotions in between, that they both agreed to wait at least five years after their last reconciliation before they even entertained the idea again.
So far, it's been eight.
And they've been the longest eight years of Blaine's entire life.
But, in the end, he wouldn't change a thing. Because he didn't waste a second of those eight years. He used every moment of them to start from scratch, get to know Kurt better, get to know him more.
And woo him all over again.
Blaine wanted this moment to be worthy of those past eight years.
But inexplicably, Blaine feels his feet go cold. A strange needle-shaped seed of dread has been poking at his brain all morning. He doesn't know why, but considering it's concentrated between his eyes, he figures it's some kind of warning. Most of this morning has been kind of a blur. Between the planning and the anxiety and the excitement and the cronuts, he can't focus in clearly on a single detail of the events prior to this moment. A harrowing thought crosses his mind. What if Kurt reaches the last box and nothing's in there? Blaine's breathing stops on the last inhale as he pictures Kurt's face: how he'd go from curious to furious so fast it would break the sound barrier. But Blaine wouldn't do that to Kurt. Not intentionally. Not after all of his meticulous planning. He wouldn't have choked that badly. There's no way Blaine's that stupid.
But it's with a sickening terror that Blaine realizes he's not so sure.
He tries to shake it off, tries to focus on Kurt's amusing mumbles and annoyed facial expressions, but the terror won't go away.
The last time Blaine had Kurt's present - before he put it in that final box and wrapped it, that is – it was in the pocket of his lounge pants … the same lounge pants he's wearing since he finished wrapping Kurt's presents an hour before his alarm went off. He didn't bother changing. So, if he never wrapped the Tiffany ring box, it would still be in his pocket, which he knows it's not because, again, he's not that stupid.
And since he knows he's not that stupid, there's no harm in making sure … right?
Blaine slides his hands into his pockets, but even before he reaches the bottom, he feels a hard edge brush against his leg.
Oh God …
He thrusts his right hand in further and that's when it hits him.
More like that's when he feels it – the ring box rolling up his fingers and into his palm.
Oh holy hot Christ on toast! I am that stupid!
And suddenly, Blaine finds himself stuck on that stupid, watching open-mouthed, like a fresh water bass about to be flattened by an 18 wheeler, as Kurt tears through the boxes with a renewed vigor. Icy horror overwhelms him when Kurt reaches the final box, a box the exact size and shape as a ring box only slightly bigger, and, with an ecstatic giggle, starts tearing its wrapping to pieces. Blaine prays, negotiates, barters with the universe that if there's something, anything in that last box when Kurt opens it, he will … well, he'll think of something. Some way to pay back the mystical forces that govern time and space.
The universe can send him a bill.
But, surprise surprise (or not so surprising at this point), there's nothing, and Kurt's smile, jubilant with expectation just seconds before, dissolves into a frown.
"Is there … is there something I'm missing?" Kurt asks, feeling around the floor with despair. "Is there something I'm not seeing?"
Yes, Blaine thinks, disappointed with himself, but he slips and says it out loud. "Yes, you are," he reiterates when stormy grey eyes snap his way. Blaine clears his throat, which causes him to cough, and he keeps going, stalling for time while he desperately searches his fuzzy brain for a way out of this.
"And what, pray tell, is that?" Kurt crosses his arms over his chest. Blaine gulps. Arms crossed over Kurt's chest is Kurt's offensive position. Blaine had better come up with something brilliant … and fast.
"What you're missing …" Blaine starts.
"Yes …"
"… your present …"
"A-ha …"
"… is, uh … a m-metaphor."
Kurt's eyebrows lift in surprise, but not the good kind. In the you're insulting my intelligence and I don't believe you as far as I can throw you kind. Though Blaine's pretty certain that, at this moment, Kurt could throw him straight out the window of their loft. "A metaphor?"
"Yes. A metaphor."
"A metaphor for what?"
"F-for us," Blaine stutters, losing ground. "For our relationship ... for all relationships really."
Blaine starts to shake. He clasps his hands in front of him to keep him still, praying it's not too obvious. But Kurt's eyes have the uncanny ability to see straight through him.
Blaine's tanking and he knows it.
Kurt's right eyebrow rises farther than the left, but his overall expression doesn't change. "Keep going."
"Well, uh …" Blaine tries his hardest to come up with something, but his mind has gone blank. Probably all those damned cronuts! They've shorted out his brain! Why is this so difficult? He loves Kurt, honestly, truly, and with all of his heart. Even when they weren't together, even when Blaine was with someone else, he was still head-over-heels in love with Kurt. He never stopped. He couldn't make himself. And even if they never got back together, he would have died being in love with Kurt because Kurt is everything to him. So why doesn't he just say that? "… you work hard at a relationship, not knowing what it will become, if all that work will be worth it. You might come away with everything, or …" Blaine gestures to the box "… you might come away with nothing. But, in the end, if things work out the way you want them to, the things you gain, the rewards you earn, aren't something you can touch or see. They're something you feel. And you, Kurt Hummel, have stood by longer, fought harder, and put up with more than any human being should have to for the love of another person."
Blaine pauses, waiting for a reaction. Kurt relaxes his tense arms. He tilts his head. He looks curious, not at all like he wants to strangle him, and Blaine's heart races. Score! One tiny victory. Okay, now, keep it up …
"I'm not saying that this was a race, or that I was the prize. On the contrary. It's you, Kurt. It's always been you. I'm so grateful for everything. The greatest gifts you've given me aren't things I could put in a box. They're your love, your forgiveness, your patience, your time. Those things are so valuable, irreplaceable, precious. I might not be worthy of them. But, I'll endeavor every day to try. And so …" Blaine gets down on one knee at Kurt's feet, and Kurt's arms fall the rest of the way. He sits up straighter, eyes aglow "… I'm hoping that, regardless of all the trouble I've put you through, you'll be willing to be my husband?"
Blaine fishes out the ring box already in his hand and opens it, presenting Kurt (he hopes since he neglected to double check, after all this, that the fucker is actually in there) a polished platinum wedding band with a single blue-diamond inset – single since Kurt is his one true love and blue for the color of Kurt's eyes.
"Oh, Blaine!" Kurt sighs, and Blaine's heart speeds a little more. Thank God it's in there! "It's gorgeous! Did you pick this out yourself?"
"I did. Took me forever to save up for it, too." He plucks the ring from the box. "The second I saw it, I knew. The same way I knew the second I saw you. I've had it picked out for you since we got back together. But we promised to take things slow. I knew how important that was to you, so I kept that promise."
"That long?" Kurt shakes his head as he watches Blaine slip the ring onto his left ring finger. "But that was … God! A heck of a long time ago! We've broken up twice since then!"
"Yup, but that didn't matter." Blaine takes a good look at the ring now that it's settled on Kurt's finger where it belongs, and kisses it. "I always knew that it would be you and me in the end."
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispers again and Blaine kisses him, Kurt dissolving into his boyfriend's arms with tears and laughter, "that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard."
Blaine smiles but stays silent. He refuses to bask too deeply in the glow of his performance. The truth is Blaine barely pulled this off, so much so that he's surprised his gums aren't bleeding.
"The ruse with the boxes ..." Kurt chuckles despite lingering exasperation from moments before "… I have to admit, you got me! I was skeptical at first, and it kind of hurt my feelings, but then that speech!" He hugs Blaine tight as Blaine swallows down a mass of guilt the size of a ten gallon drum.
"I'm so sorry about hurting your feelings, Kurt. I really am. Are you sure you like the ring?"
"I do. I really, really do," Kurt replies, wrapped in Blaine's arms, unwilling to move. He looks at the ring on his finger. Such a beautiful ring. Such an elaborate lead in. Blaine must have been heartbroken when it all fell through. But so was Kurt for about five seconds, so he can't just let it go. "You forgot to put it in the box, didn't you?"
"Yes," Blaine admits with chagrin. "Yes, I did."
Kurt shakes his head. "Well, you're lucky I'm so completely in love with you … because I accept."