Kurt kept his hands in his pockets as they walked down the sidewalk, Adam chattering away at his side. Their third anniversary had been fun, including a movie of Kurt's choosing and dinner at a French restaurant Adam picked out. There was still a nip in the air, remnants of the late March cold front that decided to blow through early in the week, which was why warmth was a priority over the romanticism of a handheld, moonlit stroll.
Besides, they could be plenty romantic once they got home to the warm bubble bath Kurt had planned, followed by amazing anniversary sex.
There was only one thing that would make it better, and with they way things had been perfect all evening, Kurt decided to take a chance that luck was on his side. He waited until they were locked into their apartment and Adam was fussing around in the closet next to the front door before the exact wrong words came out of his mouth.
"Adam, I lied to you."
He froze in the act of hanging up his jacket. "About what? Oh god, you hated the restaurant, didn't you?" The level of distress on his face would have been precious if Kurt wasn't so nervous. "I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean to ruin our anniversary."
"No, the restaurant was amazing, like I said, just…" Kurt sat on the small, two-seat couch and patted next to him. "Come here."
Adam finished hanging his jacket and stepped to the couch warily. He sat, facing Kurt with his legs folded under him, just like he had done a hundred times before. This couch was their place, even more than the bed or any number of locations around the city or in Kurt's old loft with Rachel. It was where they first fought (over a bottle of mustard, of all things), where they had sex the first time (after deciding the bedroom was too far), and where they had watched (and ignored) countless movies wrapped up in each other. Kurt knew he would be designing their home based on this couch until it was too worn to go on, because it had too much sentiment to let go.
Kurt grabbed Adam's hands and took a deep breath. "You asked me once if you were a rebound from Blaine. And I told you no."
He watched as his boyfriend's brow furrowed. "Kurt-"
"Just- listen? Please?" When Adam nodded, Kurt continued. "I told you that you weren't a rebound, but you kind of were. I just wanted someone safe to catch me while I finished falling. But then, you had to go and be you." Kurt smiled fondly. "Amazing, beautiful, occasionally inappropriate you. And I kept falling, but it was for you instead of apart." He let go of one of Adam's hands and dug in the crevice of the couch, looking for the box he hid there. "I don't know much about basketball, mostly because I stop paying attention every time my dad turns it on, but from what I've gathered, rebounds can be important. If they come at the right time, with the right person, they can be game-changers." He finally found what he was looking for and pulled it out, flipping it open with one hand because Adam was squeezing the other far too tightly.
"You're a game-changer. You're my game-changer. So how about we turn this rebound into a game-winning slam dunk, something so impressive and final, no one can question it." He watched Adam carefully. "Will you marry me?"
There were no tears, just an enthusiastic nod accompanied by a breathless "Yes" before Kurt found himself with his arms and lap full of British boyf- fiance. Adam was pressing kisses all over his face, affirming his decision between every one. Suddenly, he stopped and broke into borderline hysterical giggles. It took two minutes of Kurt giving him a weak glare for Adam to catch his breath and ask the question that had popped into his mind.
"How much did it hurt you to build a proposal speech around a sports metaphor?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Shut up and kiss me, you big goof."
A/N: Inspired by the fact that, over 25 years later, my dad still calls my mom Rebound Girl.