A/N: This was just written mostly because I really need Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, Finn, and Quinn to be best friends who prance around New York together.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the song "One Hand, One Heart."
-.-
Make of our hands one hand
Make of our hearts one heart
Make of our vows one last vow
Only death will part us now
-.-
It's times like these, with Kurt stirring a pot of hot chocolate and humming along to his mother's old Frank Sinatra records, that Blaine truly, genuinely believes his life couldn't get any more perfect.
He knocks on wood with a little smile because the last time he said something like that, the power went out, and he broke one of Kurt's expensive vases in the dark, and then he nearly set the carpet on fire by trying to clean up the pieces by candlelight.
But other than some minor mishaps like that one, and perhaps some more major ones over the years, things really are so much better than he ever expected them to be. Because he's living in New York, his favorite city in the world thus far, with the love of his life, who he's been in a committed relationship with for almost seven years now, and it's almost New Year's Eve, which he gets to spend with his fantastic boyfriend, who he loves so much that he doesn't even care that he's probably staring at him right now in their tiny kitchen in their tiny New York loft.
"Blaine, honey, do you want big marshmallows or those little ones?" Kurt asks as Blaine perches on the counter top next to the stove.
"The little ones!" Finn calls from the living room, where he has taken over their couch and the remote control.
"Finn, I wasn't asking you," Kurt says, rolling his eyes. "And turn down the volume! You don't need sound for sports!" he yells into the living room. He sighs exasperatedly and steps in between Blaine's legs, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist and leaning into him. "Now which do you want?"
Blaine smiles and shrugs his shoulders, rubbing circles into Kurt's back. "I don't mind. Whatever he wants is fine."
"Oh, you're so much easier to live with than Finn." Kurt sighs into Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine presses his lips to Kurt's hair softly.
"You should go rest. You know, before we hit the town," Blaine tells him. Kurt has been up since six o'clock that morning, cooking and cleaning and grocery shopping in preparation for Finn and Rachel's arrival. Blaine had no idea he'd been preparing so much until he woke up alone to the smell of blueberry muffins and Pine Sol wafting throughout the loft.
It's the first time anyone has been to their new loft since they moved in, and Kurt, as expected, has been stressing over every detail, even though Blaine insists Finn and Rachel won't care if he doesn't wash the windows or vacuum the linen closet.
Actually, who does that in the first place?
The point is, Kurt hasn't slept much these past couple of days, especially since their flight back from Lima landed late last night, but tomorrow is New Year's Eve, and Blaine would very much like for his boyfriend to be well-rested.
You know, for reasons.
"No, I'll be fine," Kurt insists, though Blaine could swear he's holding back a yawn. "It wouldn't be fair to Finn and Rachel for me to nap while they're here."
"You sure? I can take care of them, you know. I promise won't let Finn touch the oven or anything sharp," Blaine jokes, carding his fingers through Kurt's hair carefully so as not to upset the copious amounts of hairspray.
Kurt just shakes his head. "Nope. I don't need sleep. That's what coffee is for." He pulls away from Blaine and begins spooning hot chocolate into four mugs.
Blaine watches Kurt from behind as he struts back into the living room to where Finn and Rachel have been waiting surprisingly patiently for them. Blaine exhales softly, slipping his fingers into his pocket and running them over the soft velvet box. Soon, he thinks to himself before trailing after Kurt.
Rachel and Finn accept their mugs graciously, and Rachel says, "So, gentlemen, what's the plan for today? I know Finn has just been dying to see all of New York's famous cultural landmarks," Finn looks as though he was unaware of this, "but I just wanted to check with you boys first. I'm getting more considerate," she adds.
Kurt chuckles and nods. "Yes, Rachel, we've noticed. It's nice. But I don't think we had any set plans for today, did we, Blaine?" He looks over to Blaine, who just shakes his head.
"No, I don't think so. When is Quinn supposed to get here?" he asks innocently, not catching the warning glare Kurt gives him.
"Wait, wait, wait," Finn interrupts, turning to glare at Kurt. "Quinn is coming? Why didn't you tell me Quinn was coming?"
Kurt sighs exasperatedly. "Because I knew you'd overreact like this. I actually wasn't going to mention it until she got here. I figured you'd have the decency to not make a scene once she was here."
"But why did you invite her in the first place?"
"Because she has no one else to spend it with! I didn't want her to have to be alone on New Year's Eve. She's driving down tonight, and then she's going to spend tomorrow with us, and you can't convince me otherwise," Kurt says. Finn doesn't look pleased with him, but Rachel doesn't even seem to be paying attention. Instead, her eyes are focused on Blaine, one eyebrow quirked in interest.
"Blaine Warbler," she interrupts, "may I see you privately for a moment?" Blaine nods confusedly and follows her to the kitchen, drowning out Finn's protests of, "I can't believe you invited my ex!" as Rachel turns to face him.
"I know what you're planning," she whispers bluntly.
"What do you mean?" He legitimately doesn't know what she's talking about, but whatever it is, she doesn't seem happy about it, and he should fix that right away before she somehow manages to turn Kurt on him as well.
"You know what I mean! You're going to propose to Kurt tomorrow at midnight, and you didn't even tell me about it or ask my advice!" She whispers fiercely.
Blaine gapes at her and blinks because it's true.
He had been arguing back and forth with himself over whether or not he was really going to propose at midnight on New Year's the entire week they were visiting Kurt's family in Lima until he came to a decision.
He had realized that now that he was going to propose, the most gentlemanly thing to do would be to ask Burt's permission before anything else. It was mortifying, but once he finally managed to blurt it out, Burt had hugged him around the shoulders, patting him on the back and saying how glad he was that Blaine was finally going to become part of the family officially.
He had also promised not to tell anyone, so how did Rachel find out?
She looks at him expectantly. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Blaine Anderson?"
All he can say is, "How did you know?"
She rolls her eyes. "Honestly, Blaine, how could I not know? You look like a wreck. Your palms are all sweaty and you keep looking at him longingly. Also, I saw the bulge in your pocket, and while I would be flattered, I'm sure it's not because you're happy to see me."
Blaine laughs a little incredulously, but then he begins to panic and whispers, "You don't think Kurt can tell, do you?" He peers over his shoulder to make sure Kurt still can't hear them over his argument with Finn. "Because I'd really hate to have the surprise ruined before tomorrow night."
Rachel shakes her head. "No, he's completely oblivious. No need to worry."
Blaine breathes out a sigh of relief. "Thank god. Oh, um, you won't tell anyone, will you? Even Finn?"
"My lips are sealed," she says, miming zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. He smiles and squeezes her hand lightly before turning around to make his way back to the living room.
"Wait!" She puts one hand on his shoulder and spins him around before he can leave.
"What is it, Rach?"
She ducks her head down a little bashfully. "Can I see it?"
He raises one eyebrow in confusion before suddenly nodding in recognition. "Oh, yeah!" He pulls the velvety box from his pocket and flips it open for her to see.
The ring is a thin silver band with strip of little diamonds in the middle. In glints in the light as Rachel turns it over in her hands, and she looks up at him with a grin on her face. Slipping the ring back into the box, she gets on her tippy-toes to kiss him on the cheek and whisper in his ear, "It's perfect."
"Really?" he asks as she pulls away.
She nods. "He's gonna love it."
By the time dinner rolls around, Kurt is too tired to do anything but order a pizza, though Rachel opts out for a more vegan-friendly option, that vegan-friendly option being a piece of toast and a can of tomato soup she finds in the cupboard.
Finn is still surly about Quinn being invited, but he visibly brightens at the medium meat lovers pizza that Kurt orders just for him. Their minuscule dining room isn't really big enough for more than two people, so they sit in a circle on the floor in front of the TV like they did when they were kids, and Rachel rattles off a list of her plans for the day.
"-and I suppose we should go out somewhere particularly nice for dinner tomorrow, especially since Quinn hasn't got a real chance to see the city since we were in high school, and- Kurt, are you even listening to me?"
"Hmm?" Kurt says, and Blaine notices for the first time that he's been nodding off against Blaine's shoulder this entire time. "No, no, sorry, I was just spacing out," he admits. "Go on, I'm listening."
Even when Rachel continues, Kurt doesn't seem to be paying much attention. He keeps staring off into space and biting his thumbnail the way he does when he's anxious. Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt's waist and pulls him close, letting Kurt rest his head on his shoulder.
He strokes his thumb across Kurt's hipbone and rests his chin on top of Kurt's head, each of them drowning out the sound of Rachel's rambling and ignoring Finn's atrocious eating habits. When Rachel begins to talk about her color-coded timetables and maps for them to use in case someone, namely Finn, gets lost, the phone rings and effectively saves Kurt from Rachel's clutches.
As Kurt hops up to answer the phone, Blaine pulls his knees up to his chest and toys with the velvet box in his pocket. He takes a few deep breaths to keep his heart from beating as fast as it does when he thinks about the engagement ring in his pocket right now.
It just keeps hitting him harder every time that he's going to propose tomorrow. For real.
The thought gives him goosebumps up his arms and a lump in his throat and this feeling of excitement-anxiety-fear-elation in his stomach that feels way too big to be the standard butterflies.
He can still hear Rachel babbling on about dinner reservations and the subway station as he and Kurt make eye contact across the room, and Kurt winks at him and smiles sweetly before turning around to talk to whoever is on the other end of the phone. He wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs and exhales slowly.
He can do this.
"Blaine! Are you paying attention to me at all?" Rachel shrieks at him, snapping her fingers in front of his face.
Soon.
Quinn arrives in their doorway circa midnight with two suitcases in her hands that she drops to the floor as soon as she sees Kurt answering the door. She flings her arms around his neck, and they sway on the spot together as Kurt presses a kiss to her cheek and mumbles his hello into her ear. Then she breaks away to hug Rachel briefly and pat Finn's shoulder with an awkward little nod.
She turns to Blaine last and gives him a little smile before holding out her arms expectantly and pulling him into them. She rubs her hand up and down his back and says, "How ya been, Blaine?"
He smiles and says, "Perfect. How are you doing, sweetie?"
She pulls back with a shrug and sort of a sad smile. "I'm alright," she says.
He nods and thinks how happy he is to see her. They haven't seen each other in person since he went to her wedding in Connecticut a little more than a year ago, and he feels a pang of sympathy for her. Things have never really turned out well for Quinn Fabray.
She turns around to Kurt. "So," she begins, "where do I sleep?"
"Do you prefer couch or air mattress?" Kurt asks. "I'm sorry you have to sleep in the living room. I wish we had a house with more than two bedrooms."
Blaine raises an eyebrow and says, "Why would we need a loft with three bedrooms?"
Kurt considers this. "Good point. Still, I'm sorry."
Quinn waves him off. "Don't worry about it. I could sleep anywhere right now." Blaine notices for the first time that she looks entirely exhausted. Not quite as exhausted as Kurt, of course. Kurt is definitely worse.
Which is why, after he fetches the air mattress for Quinn, he announces that he and Kurt will be going to bed and he suggests everyone else do the same, as they have a long day ahead of them.
But when he and Kurt are lying in bed, Blaine in his flannel pajama pants and Kurt cuddled in one of Blaine's old hoodies that smells a little like both of them now, Blaine realizes that there's no way in hell he's getting to sleep. His mind is buzzing with anxiety and excitement, and he can hear Finn snoring down the hall, and Kurt's steady breathing isn't lulling him to sleep like it usually does, it just keeps reminding of what tomorrow really is.
He's never been so terrified of something so wonderful before.
So he just stares up at the ceiling and tries to clear his mind, and when he's sure Kurt is deep in sleep, his tiptoes out of the room and down the hall, past Quinn's air mattress, and to the kitchen where he fills up a glass of water from the tap.
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Quinn asks, startling him into dropping his glass into the sink.
"Quinn, you scared the shit out of me," he says, picking up the glass from the sink and checking for any cracks before refilling it with water.
"Sorry," she says, and he could swear he can hear her smirk. "Why aren't you in bed?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"I guess I sorta lied when I said I could sleep anywhere. I'm actually pretty picky," she admits a little sheepishly.
"Why didn't you say so?" he asks, crossing over to sit on the couch. "We could have figured something else out for you." He's not sure if they really had any other options besides making Finn and Rachel sleep on the air mattress and couch instead of the guest bed, but he likes to keep optimistic.
"Nah, I didn't want to cause any trouble. It's fine, really, I'll get to sleep eventually." She pauses to lift herself up onto the couch next to him. "You never did answer my question. Why are you awake?"
He shrugs. "I couldn't sleep."
She nudges his shoulder with her own. "Any particular reason?"
He exhales loudly and wraps his arms around his torso. "I'm sort of...nervous. Incredibly nervous."
She raises an eyebrow. "Nervous?" she asks, reaching over to rest her hand on his forearm gently. "Sweetie, what are you nervous about?"
He sighs and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. It probably wouldn't hurt to tell her, he thinks to himself. She's a good listener, and she wouldn't judge him for being a coward the way he's judging himself. He remembers there used to be a time when they told each other everything. Things haven't changed that much have they?
He grits his teeth, and he says it. "I'm proposing to Kurt tomorrow."
"Oh, that? I already knew that," she replies. "Rachel told me."
He gapes at her open-mouthed for a moment. "Rachel told you?" She nods. "When did Rachel find the time to tell you?"
Quinn smirks and says, "Right after you and Kurt went to bed and Finn started getting ready for bed. We were sitting alone in here, and I guess she ran out of things to talk about, so it just sort of slipped out. And by "slipped out" I mean she announced it in that very matter-of-fact way she says everything."
He chuckles a little but sobers immediately. "I can't believe she told you. I told her not to tell anyone!"
"What else did you expect from Rachel Berry? I'm amazed you told her in the first place."
"I didn't tell her," he explains. "She figured it out on her own." He thinks of all the times she told him and Kurt that she was "a little psychic, and he stifles a laugh."
"Well, at least she only told me. You were gonna tell me anyway, remember? But that's not the point. The point is, you're nervous, correct?" He nods. "What are you so nervous about?"
He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "It's just that...this is a big deal. A really big deal. This is a marriage proposal. What if he doesn't say 'yes'? What if he rejects my proposal in front of a crowd of people, and I'm forever known as 'that poor loser who embarrassed himself on New Year's Eve in Times Square that one time'? The more I think about it, the more worried I am that he's not going to want to get married."
Quinn shakes her head. "Oh, sweetie, you're not very smart at all, are you?"
"Kick me while I'm down. Thanks, Quinn," he deadpans.
"That's not what I meant. I mean, do you honestly think Kurt is not going to want to marry you?" She trails her hand down his arm to grasp at his hand, and he tangles their fingers together.
Blaine shrugs. "Stranger things have happened."
"Don't be a Debbie Downer, I'm serious. Kurt has been hopelessly in love with you since we were seventeen, and he's been planning your wedding almost as long." Blaine ducks his head bashfully. "Seriously, I've seen the wedding magazines under his bed. You have nothing to worry about."
He sighs. "I'm just worried I'll screw it up somehow. I'm not good with grand public displays of affection. I'm good at the small, intimate stuff."
"Well, just think of this like the small, intimate stuff. There's no one else but the two of you. Even though there's hundreds of other people, he's the only one that matters."
He rests his head on her shoulder, and she continues on. "You're right. Marriage is a big deal. It's hard. Harder than you can possibly imagine." He tilts his head up, and he sees the gleam of unshed tears in her eyes. "But if anyone can do it, it's you two."
He wraps an arm tightly around her waist. "I'm sorry, Quinn."
She shrugs and laughs bitterly. "It's not your fault I married one of the biggest jackasses in the world, seconded only to my father." He lifts his head up and pulls her closer, letting her rest her head on his shoulder instead. "I think it's Karma, anyway, for all the times I cheated in high school, wouldn't you say?"
He shakes his head. "You still deserve better than that."
She smiles a sad little smile and says, "Well, let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we? Who knows? I've heard there are lots of attractive guys in New York. Who knows? Maybe some of them are straight."
He laughs and kisses her on top of the head, unwinding his arm from around her and lifting himself up off the couch. "I'm gonna go back to bed. Try and get some sleep, okay?"
She nods. "Goodnight, Blaine," she says.
"Goodnight, sweetie," he replies.
And then he's back in his room, crawling into bed beside his boyfriend, curling his arm around his waist and nuzzling their noses together briefly. Kurt squirms lightly in his sleep, groaning and opening one eye just slightly to look at Blaine.
"Where have you been?" he asks, burrowing his nose in Blaine's neck.
"I just went to get a drink of water," says, carding his fingers through Kurt's hair.
"You didn't disturb Quinn, did you?" Kurt scolds.
Blaine shakes his head. "Nah, I didn't disturb her." It's mostly true, anyway. It's not like he's lying. "Go back to sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow."
Kurt nods drowsily and tangles their fingers together over Blaine's heart.
Soon.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Hurry it up, please! We don't have all day, and according to the schedule I've so generously laid out for you, we're already running late!" Blaine can hear her all the way down the hall from the bathroom, and he cranes his head to peer down the hall to watch in amusement.
"Rachel, calm down," Kurt says, patting her shoulder. "Our dinner reservations aren't for another hour. We're fine."
"If we're not in Times Square by eight, we probably won't even make it in!" Kurt gives her a glare, and she crosses her arms stiffly and taps her foot against the hardwood floor impatiently. "Fine. But tell your boyfriend he has approximately four-and-a-half minutes to do his hair and get out here so we can leave!"
Kurt chuckles and walks down the hallway, peeking his head around the bathroom door, where Blaine is debating over whether or not to gel his hair tonight. He had stopped gelling his hair everyday sometime during his sophomore year of college when Kurt confessed that he loved running his fingers through Blaine's loose curls. He now saves gel for special occasions.
Does this count as a special occasion?
"Just go without it," Kurt says, leaning against the door frame.
"You think so?" Blaine asks.
Kurt nods. "Yeah, I mean, Rachel's a ticking time bomb right now. You have approximately three minutes until she explodes all over our kitchen. Besides," he says, his voice dropping an octave, "you know how I feel about your hair." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Blaine laughs.
"Okay," he agrees. "No gel." He takes Kurt's hand and lets Kurt lead him out to the living room, where Rachel is still tapping her foot and looking impatiently at her watch every few seconds, Finn is standing behind her, looking like a mixture of amused and nervous, and Quinn is rolling her eyes from the couch.
"Ugh, finally!" Rachel complains. "What took you so long? You didn't even do anything to your hair!"
"Well, I was-"
"I don't have time for your explanation! We have to go!" she demands, ushering them all out the door and barely leaving Kurt enough time to lock the door behind him.
"Taxi!" Rachel hollers from the sidewalk. "Taxi! TAXI!"
Kurt chuckles and leans over to whisper in Blaine's ear, "She never did get the hang of taxis."
Rachel stomps her foot in frustration, while Quinn moves to stand in front of her, holds out her arms and whistles shrilly, effectively hailing them a cab.
Blaine sits in the back, sandwiched between Kurt and Quinn. Kurt is leaning his head on Blaine's shoulder and stifling a yawn while his thumb traces the seam of Blaine's pants. Blaine twiddles his thumbs anxiously until Quinn covers his wrist with her hand and gives him a reassuring smile.
He places his hand on top of Kurt's, and Kurt flips his hand over to lace their fingers together. He takes a few calming deep breath and lays his cheek on top of Kurt's head, being especially careful so as not to ruin Kurt's hair. He closes his eyes and tries to remember everything Quinn said last night.
He can do this.
The restaurant is more expensive than he remembers, but he doesn't mention anything because he knows how much Kurt loves it. He scans the menu, but he just ends up ordering a bowl of soup because it's cheap, and he doesn't feel like he could stomach much else right now. He smiles to himself when Kurt orders a salad, not just because it's also cheap, but because he knows Kurt is secretly trying to "keep his figure," and that's still the cutest and most unnecessary thing ever.
He squeezes Kurt's thigh underneath the table, and he meets Rachel's excited gaze across the table. When Kurt turns his head to the side to say something to Quinn, she holds up six fingers and mouths "six hours!" at him. He glares at her, and checks to make sure Kurt didn't see anything. He didn't, and Blaine gives Rachel another warning glare.
He excuses himself to the restroom, mostly so he can splash some water on his face so he can stop acting so nervous. He's going to give something away if he's not careful.
He hears the bathroom door creak open behind him, and he presses a paper towel to his face, dispite the inner-Kurt in his head that's telling him how terrible that is for his skin. When he pulls it away, he sees the reflection in the mirror of Finn leaning against the wall behind him.
"'Sup?" Finn asks casually.
Blaine turns around and slowly says, "Nothing much. You?"
Finn shrugs nonchalantly. "Same. I hear you're proposing to my brother."
Blaine sort of loses his balance for a second and has to steady himself on the sink. "Uh...o-okay, where did you hear that?"
"Rachel," Finn says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and yeah, maybe it is, but Blaine's getting kind of sick of this.
"Are you kidding me?" he asks incredulously.
Finn shakes his head and stifles a laugh at the look of distress on Blaine's face. "Don't worry, man, I'm not gonna tell him or threaten you or anything. I just wanted to tell you that I think it's pretty cool, and you have my support." He sticks his hands in his pockets and shrugs a little awkwardly.
Blaine nods and smiles and says, "Thank you, Finn. That actually means a lot."
They stand there in silence a little longer before Finn says, "Um, you can go now."
"Oh, okay. Right. See you in a few."
"This is going to be the greatest New Year's Eve ever!" Rachel declares as the five of them walk down the sidewalk. "I just know it!"
"Really?" Kurt asks. "What makes you say that?"
Rachel's eyes widen in panic for a second, but then she just shrugs. "Just a feeling, I guess."
Quinn nods in agreement, smirking just a little bit. "Yeah, I get the same vibe."
"Me too. Totally," Finn says.
Blaine grits his teeth and clasps Kurt's hand in his, shooting Rachel a glare over his shoulder. Kurt brings their intertwined hands up to his mouth and kisses Blaine's knuckles. "I know what you mean," he says, with just a hint of a smile on his face. "I get that feeling as well." He turns to Blaine and sort of half-winks at him.
Shit. He knows something.
Blaine looks frantically from Kurt to Rachel, from Rachel to Finn, from Finn to Quinn, but none of them seem to have noticed anything.
You're just being paranoid.
There's no way Kurt can tell. It's not like Rachel would have let it slip to him too, right?
Would she?
No. She wouldn't. And it's not like Blaine had been acting that obvious, right?
Had he?
No. He's only being paranoid. It's just his nerves getting to him again, making him unreasonably suspicious and apprehensive. He takes another deep breath, wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, and leans into Kurt's side as they walk together.
His phone beeps in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see that he has one message that reads:
From: Rachel
5 hours! Don't chicken out!
He rolls his eyes and doesn't send a reply message, just shoves his phone back into his pocket and pulls Kurt a little closer because he's not going to chicken out, not after all this, but maybe it'd be easier with a little alcohol in him, and where exactly is the nearest bar again?
"Hey, where is the nearest bar?" he asks aloud. "I mean, we should grab a drink before we get there. It's only just seven. We have time, right?" Kurt shrugs and nods. "Right. So where's the nearest bar?"
"Well, judging by my calculations, right over there," Kurt says, pointing over at a place right at the corner of the street they're on. "But we're not going there?"
"Why not?" Finn asks.
"Because it looks sketchy and scary," Quinn says. "Right, Kurt?"
"Exactly! Honestly, Blaine, you live here. This city is a beautiful, marvelous place, but it's also full of creeps. You should know these things," Kurt says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Blaine gives a little self-deprecating smile and says, "Yeah, I think I'll just stop talking now, okay?"
It would seem that the bar is more expensive than he remembers, too.
He's a little disappointed, because he was planning on drinking some of the nerves out of his body, but then he remembers he also often neglects his responsibilities when he's got some alcohol in him, and the last thing he wants to do tonight is something stupid. So he asks for a water, sits himself down next to Kurt, and watches his boyfriend sip his martini happily.
He glances over at the dance floor where Finn and Rachel are dancing together just as awkwardly as anyone would expect from them, and Quinn is mingling with the fairly attractive bartender, drink in hand and smile on her flushed face. She looks more relaxed and carefree than he's seen her in a long time.
He turns his head back to Kurt, who is still sipping his martini but is looking back at Blaine now. He reaches for Blaine's hand and strokes his thumb over Blaine's wrist. He quirks an eyebrow and says, "What are you thinking?"
Blaine furrows his brow and asks, "What do you mean?"
"You have that look on your face. You know, the one that says you're thinking about something important. The thinky look," he explains with a grin on his face.
Blaine shrugs and says, "I guess I was just thinking that I was really glad you invited Quinn."
Kurt nods and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. "I am, too. I think she needed something like this. I don't think she's been out and about in a while."
Blaine sighs. "I just feel bad for her, you know? I wish there was something I could do to help her out."
Kurt smiles a little sadly and moves his hand up to cup Blaine's cheek. "Sweetheart..." he croons, stroking over Blaine's cheekbone with his thumb. "You can't always fix everyone's problems."
Blaine sighs and nuzzles the palm of Kurt's hand. "I know. But I wish I could."
Kurt looks at him thoughtfully for a second before standing and pressing a lingering kiss to the top of Blaine's head. "You're incredible," he whispers. He rakes his fingers through Blaine's curls and says, "I'm going to go get another drink. You want anything?"
Blaine shakes his head. "Nah, I'm fine."
He watches from afar as Kurt makes his way back over to the bar and orders (probably) another martini, leans back against the bar like one of the suave gentlemen from the old-fashioned films he loves so much, playfully bumps Quinn's hip with his own and pecks her on the cheek, and then walks back to his and Blaine's table, drink in hand.
He's stunning as always. But perhaps he's just especially stunning tonight, because Blaine is really going to propose tonight, and Kurt just might say yes, and maybe in a year or so, they'll actually be married.
It's the first time he's really thought of it like that.
The thought itself is exhilarating, and it's enough to make Blaine pull Kurt in by his shiny, silvery tie and press their lips together in a searing kiss that leaves them both a little breathless and flushed and aching for more.
And now he's far too excited to be nervous.
"You know," Rachel says, "I've been living in this city for years, but I don't think I'll ever get used to this."
She gestures around herself, where the city lights seem to shine a little brighter than usual, a vibrant collage of deep reds and oranges and yellows, the blues and purples just barely muted against the night sky. All the people bunched together, creating a different sort of vibrancy just with the shrill tones of excitement in their voices and looks of wonder in their eyes.
It's only like this once a year, and Blaine relishes in the feeling of it, the fireworks and confetti that come later on, the motion and commotion, the feeling of Kurt's warm hand in his, always standing by his side. It's the best time of year.
There's a reason he picked New Year's Eve, you know.
He nods in agreement with Rachel. "It is amazing," he says, though he's looking at Kurt as opposed to the city.
"Ugh," Quinn complains. "I feel like cattle. Why exactly are we being treated like livestock?"
"Because there are about a million people here," Rachel explains. "Can you imagine what it would be like if we weren't being herded like cows?"
"Rachel, you're vegan. You don't even like cows being herded like cows," Quinn yells even louder than they already have to yell.
"Now ladies," Kurt says, "you know I appreciate each of your strong-willed, feisty attitudes. But if you could avoid arguing while there are strangers pressed up against us and there are cops everywhere, I think we'd all greatly appreciate it." He smiles sarcastically and pinches Rachel's cheek.
Finn looks confused and says, "Dude, why do you come here every year? It seems like the kind of thing that would drive you crazy."
Kurt merely shrugs and says, "I dunno, it's just sort of a New York thing. I know it's crazy and hectic, but we've just always gone together. I come every year because I want to."
He doesn't have to say it, or even imply it really, but they all know that what he really means, "I come every year because Blaine loves it."
He brings his and Kurt's linked fingers to his mouth and kisses Kurt's knuckles, paying just enough extra attention to his ring finger, but not enough to rouse suspicion.
He relishes in the knowledge that he only has to hold it in a little longer.
"I can't see the ball," Finn complains.
"What do you expect, Finn? The ball is at the top of twenty-five story building. We're on the ground, so the perspective's not so great. At least we can see the building. Although, if we'd gotten here earlier, we probably would've gotten better spots!" Blaine sees her glance at him out of the corner of her eye sharply, and he represses a laugh.
"Wait, so how do we know when the ball is dropping?" Finn asks.
Blaine answers, "You should be able to tell by the crowd's reactions. It will suddenly get even louder than before."
"As if that was possible," Quinn mumbles.
Blaine links arms with Quinn and wraps his other around Kurt's waist, and they wait.
Finn is already getting restless, shifting his weight on his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets, Quinn is fast becoming frustrated with the guy that keeps stepping on her foot, and Rachel's excitement is growing every minute as she announces the time at ten minute intervals until Kurt tells her it's unnecessary because they all know how to tell time.
So Blaine checks his watch at ten minute intervals instead.
Kurt keeps gripping his hand tighter, and Quinn rubs soothing circles into his back, and when he checks his watch again, his knees almost buckle because holy shit, it's eleven-fifty-five.
"Five minutes, everyone!" Rachel announces aloud.
"You ready? You gonna do this?" Quinn whispers into his ear.
He looks over to her with wide eyes and nods. "Absolutely."
She smiles and rubs his shoulder. "Good."
The crowd is getting eager, watching the Empire State Building in anticipation. Blaine rubs his hands together, and Kurt is biting his thumbnail the way he does when he's anxious or worried. Rachel is holding a stopwatch in one hand, counting down the seconds aloud.
"Forty seconds!" she announces.
Quinn nudges Blaine's shoulder, looks pointedly at Kurt, and mouths, "Now!" at him fiercely. Blaine takes a deep breath and turns to Kurt. Kurt turns to face him.
"I have a question," they both say to each other.
"Me first!" Kurt insists.
"Uh, okay," Blaine agrees reluctantly, hoping to himself that Kurt talks fast right now.
Kurt laughs shakily and wipes his palms on his legs. "This is, uh, really important." He lowers his voice and says to himself, "Oh, I wish I had room to kneel..."
Wait, what?
"Well, it'll have to do without." He takes a deep breath, smiles timidly, and takes both of Blaine's hands in his. "Blaine Anderson," he starts.
Ten.
Nine.
"Yes?" Blaine asks breathlessly.
Eight.
Seven.
"Will you...
Six.
"...do me the honor..."
Five.
Four.
"...of becoming my husband?"
Three.
Two.
"Oh, yes."
One.
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
"Yes!" He throws his arms around Kurt's neck. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" he says, pressing his lips to Kurt's neck after each word, his eyes stinging and his breath getting caught in his throat.
"Oh, my God," Rachel says, "that son of a bitch beat him to it!"
He pulls back from Kurt's neck and wipes at his eyes, tugging Kurt in to press their lips together. There's fireworks and confetti, and he can just faintly hear the strains of "Auld Lang Syne" around him, but not like he can hear Kurt breathing heavily into his mouth or Kurt's heart pounding up against his ribcage.
Kurt tugs lightly on his hair, pulling away and pulling a silver band out of his pocket, slipping it onto Blaine's finger with ease. "Perfect," he whispers. He wipes at Blaine's teary eyes, letting his own fill and overflow down his cheeks, and he kisses Blaine's temple and says, "I'm sorry, honey, was there something you wanted to ask me?"
Blaine just laughs, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and resting their foreheads together. "Yeah." He nods a little, pecking Kurt on the lips once. "The same thing."
"What?" Kurt asks, taken aback.
"I was going to propose tonight."
And then he laughs, and Kurt laughs, and Rachel, Finn, and Quinn are curled around them in a group hug, and there's some applause from nearby witnesses, but all Blaine can focus on is the smell of Kurt's hair and the silver ring wrapped around his finger.
Blaine kicks the door closed and clutches Kurt to him tighter as Kurt hitches his legs around Blaine's waist and kisses him fervently. He traces the tip of his tongue over Blaine's lower lip, nipping and sucking and drawing out a moan from Blaine's mouth.
Kurt pulls away, pressing a finger to Blaine's lips and whispering, "Shh, you have to be quiet."
Blaine groans and lets his head thump back against the wall because the last thing he wants is to be faced with the challenge of not screaming out his love for this beautiful man. Kurt presses an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. "You can handle it," he whispers. He drops his feet to the ground and gently pushes Blaine into bed.
Kurt hovers over him, settling his knees on either side of Blaine's thighs, and he strokes the dark curls back from Blaine's forehead. He looks at him with some kind of wonder in his eyes, and he sighs and says, "I can't believe it."
Blaine, reaching up to hold Kurt's face in his hands, asks, "Can't believe what, baby?"
Kurt laughs breathlessly and answers, "That you said yes."
Blaine caresses his cheeks with his thumbs and asks, "Did you honestly think I wouldn't?"
"Well, I was so terrified, I had no idea. Are you honestly going to tell me you weren't scared when you were going to ask me?"
"Of course I was scared," Blaine says, dropping his hands to Kurt's shoulders. "I was afraid you had noticed?"
"Are you kidding?" Kurt raises an eyebrow. "I was oblivious. That might have something to do with the fact that I barely slept all this week."
And it all makes sense then, Kurt's sudden insomnia, his apprehension. They've been in the same situation for days now: sleepless and jittery, for reasons that now seem so silly.
Of course they would say "yes." How could either of them have doubted it in the first place?
"I love you, you know," Blaine says, kneading Kurt's shoulders.
Kurt nods, an amused smile on his face as he says, "Yes, I do know. And I love you. So much."
Blaine leans forward then, capturing Kurt's lips in another kiss. This one is less rushed than before, just as passionate, but more languid and soft with the realization that they have all the time in the world together.
Blaine lets Kurt undress him, his fingers tracing over the lines and contours of Blaine's body, his lips following close behind. Blaine shivered, moving to unbutton Kurt's shirt, but Kurt stops him, grasping his wrists gently and whispering in his ear, "Let me take care of you."
He turns his head to moan into the bedsheets as Kurt strips of his own clothes, tossing them unceremoniously to the floor. Kurt strokes a hand down his chest, his nails scraping at the coarse, dark hairs dusting Blaine's chest, and he presses a kiss just above Blaine's heart as his slots their hips together.
There's always been something about Blaine that makes Kurt so much more gentle and warm as he presses tender kisses to every inch of Blaine, that sweet spot behind his ear, the scar on his shoulder, the back of his knee. He whispers sweet nothings in Blaine's ear, and Blaine splays his fingers wide across Kurt's back.
There's something about Kurt, too, the way he has weaved himself through every aspect of Blaine's life, shaking him to his very core. The way he makes Blaine want to wrap himself around him, mold their bodies together, and go through this life as one being. Together.
It suddenly occurs to him that that's what he wants their marriage to be like- both of them, joined together as one, their lives not just becoming a part of each others, but becoming the same. Their life.
And that's when Kurt's lips press against the ring around Blaine's finger, sending him toppling over the edge. Kurt follows quickly after him, collapsing onto Blaine's chest, sweaty and panting, and he stays there for a moment before pulling off of Blaine and stroking his hip lightly.
Kurt cleans them both afterward, wiping the moisture from Blaine's belly, his chest, his forehead, leaving a lingering kiss on his temple. They dress again, Blaine doing up the buttons of Kurt's silk shirt and Kurt tying the drawstring of Blaine's flannel pajama pants. Then Blaine flops onto his back in bed, pulling Kurt down on top of him.
Kurt pillows his head on Blaine's chest, drawing lazy circles on his shoulder, and he says, "I'm sorry, by the way."
Blaine looks down at him, furrowing his brow. "What are you sorry for?" He brushes a piece of hair behind Kurt's ear.
"That I ruined your plan to propose tonight," Kurt explains.
Blaine laughs. "Surprisingly enough, I didn't mind all that much." He pauses. "Besides, it's not too late."
Kurt turns his head, propping his chin up on Blaine's chest, and raises an eyebrow. Blaine lifts Kurt off of him, leaning over the side of the bed and rummaging through the pocket of his jeans on the floor. He returns with a small velvet box, holding Kurt's face gently in one hand and the box in the other.
"Kurt Hummel," he says.
"Yes, Blaine Anderson?"
"Will you marry me?"
Kurt shrugs. "I dunno. I'll think about it."
Blaine pushes him onto his back, tickling his sides. "You ass!" he accuses.
Kurt gasps between laughs, and chokes out, "Shh, shh, be quiet! Yes, yes, I'll marry you!"
Blaine stops tickling him, but he doesn't let go of his sides. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my charms."
Kurt shakes his head. "Never have been."
Blaine kisses him again, pressing him back into the mattress and smiling against his lips, and he holds him, and he tells him he loves him, and he places his hand over his heart until theirs are beating in time with each others.
-.-
Make of our lives one life
Day after day, one life
Now it begins, now we start
One hand, one heart
Even death won't part us now
-.-
A/N: Yay, another story where I avoid writing smut!
I hope you liked it anyway! Please review because reviews are nice.