They'd been going almost an hour. They sat, cross-legged, on opposite sides of the couch, arms folded. In all fairness, Blaine had been fighting this fight for a year and Kurt had shrugged him off, but this time he meant business. He'd worn Kurt's favourite bowtie especially.

"Please."

"No."

"Pleeease."

"Blaine."

"Kurt."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because…" He faltered and shrugged. "We're not ready."

"We've been married a year. We're rich- no, don't deny it, we are. We've got the whole power couple thing going, the big shot designer and his gorgeous, singing trophy husband. We're Gay-Z and Beyoncé."

Kurt smirked and knelt up, leaning down to kiss Blaine.

"You've definitely got the ass for it, Queen B."

Blaine clapped a hand over Kurt's mouth and leaned back so he couldn't reach.

"Nope. Not until you give me a reason. You always said you wanted kids, and you know I've been ready to adopt half of Africa since we were in high school, and I need something better than 'we're not ready'. Don't you want this? Don't you want us to be a family?"

Kurt looked a little hurt. Blaine never talked to him like that. He never talked to anyone like that. He sat back down and squished himself into the cushions, looking at his knees.

"I'm not doing it to annoy you, Blaine. You don't have to yell at me."

Blaine frowned, feeling guilty as soon as the smile faded from Kurt's face. He shuffled forward and picked his hands up from his lap where they were tightly wringing together. He kissed each knuckle in turn between apologies.

"Hey, no, honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean- I just don't get it. If you really don't want them, it's fine, but I just want to know why."

Kurt dropped his head onto the clump of hands in front of him.

"No, it's not. It's so not fine."

"What? Kurt-"

"Blaine, it's not fine that I keep putting you off and saying no. I don't want to say no. I hate saying no. That's why I'm not ready."

"Kurt, I don't understand-"

"I've seen you with kids. You give them that big smile and they just get all happy and do whatever you want and they fall in love with you. They don't do that with me. I don't wanna be the boring dad who hates mess and says no to everything. Isn't there supposed to be, like, a moment when you know?" Blaine suppressed a smile. Moments were their thing. Kurt shoved him. "Don't think I don't know what you're thinking about. Stop it. I'm trying to have a meltdown."

"Over nothing. Kurt, you're going to be a great dad."

"You don't know that. What if I drop it? What if it likes football? What if it hates me?"

Blaine cupped Kurt's face in both hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"You have very steady hands. I like football, and I like you just fine. Nobody could ever hate you. You know what Stacey said to me last time she was here?"

"Cooper's Stacey? What?"

"She said if I didn't have such a cool husband, she'd never want to come here."

"Darling, you can't take that personally; she's only six."

"Exactly. She's six and she adores you."

"That's just because I'm her cool gay uncle."

"I'm a cool gay uncle but you're the one she loves."

"That's just because I like playing dress-up."

"And I suck at it. She only wants to play with me when she needs somebody to be a bear."

"Blaine, I'm serious. Babies have always just been something other people have."

Blaine squeezed his lips together. He felt a twist in his stomach and he slid his hand back into Kurt's, tightening his grip. It wasn't just that he wanted kids. He wanted them with Kurt. He wanted everything with Kurt; the early mornings, the mess, the noise, the tiny hands and feet, the laughter, the unconditional love he had for Kurt extended to a baby. He'd been picturing it since he was a teenager and he could feel it slipping away.

"Do you really mean- do you honestly not want kids? Ever?"

"Blaine-"

Blaine swallowed but it didn't get rid of the lump forming in his throat.

"No, Kurt, it's fine. It's fine. You're all the family I need; you know that."

"No, Blaine, I just-"

"I'm sorry for assuming, I mean, I always thought you wanted the same as me, I shouldn't have-"

"Blaine, I do want it. I'm just scared I want it too much." Blaine frowned and shook his head, even more confused than before. Kurt unfolded his legs and scooted forward so he was in Blaine's lap, wrapping his legs around his waist. "I think about it all the time, okay? Do you know how many times I've pictured you with a little kid, our kid, our baby? It's so adorable and it's hot – trust me, kids suit you – and it's too perfect."

"I don't understand."

"Do you remember when Britt and Santana were trying? So many times it didn't work - when the inseminations didn't take, when Tana miscarried, and they had two uteruses at their disposal. Anyone can get hold of some sperm, we'd need eggs and ovens, and there's so much that could go wrong."

"We could adopt. There are kids out there who need a home and we could help them."

"And what if nobody picks us? I can still remember Santana crying on my shoulder because she didn't want to upset Brittany, and she's one of the strongest people I know, and it was excruciating seeing her reduced to that. I couldn't handle seeing you that heartbroken. If that picture of our family in my head got destroyed, I just couldn't take it."

Kurt felt Blaine's hands flat on his back, pulling them as close as possible. They both sniffed, and Blaine's eyes were glistening despite his smile.

"Kurt, are you telling me that you don't want us to try to have a baby in case we end up not having a baby?"

"What if it goes wrong?"

"But what if it goes right?" Kurt tried to look away but Blaine cupped his jaw and brought their foreheads together. "What if we could actually have a baby? What if there could be a tiny little person in the house, a little you or a little me, with tiny clothes and tiny shoes, and we'd take it to the park, and we'd sing it to sleep and read it stories-"

Kurt smiled and sniffed again.

"You've really thought about this, haven't you?"

"So have you. I've seen the drawings, Kurt."

Kurt blushed, remembering the folder of baby clothes he'd been designing in his spare time. Now that Brittany and Santana had Elise, he couldn't seem to stop himself. His god daughter was going to be the best-dressed toddler in the city.

"What did you think?"

"They're beautiful. Imagine if we had our own little person for you to design stuff for. I know you're itching to paint a baby room."

"Well I can't just make it blue or pink, can I?"

"Of course not. And if you're really worried about being any good at this, just remember you come from a long line of the best dads in the world."

Kurt frowned.

"You never met either of my grandfathers."

"Burt's enough to make my point. Can't you just see his face if he got to be a grandpa?"

Kurt smiled. Somehow hearing Blaine talk about it, so certain, so determined, so excited, made it hard to think about the possibility of it not happening. He knew that the girls would tell him it was worth every second of heartache. If Brittany S. Lopez could be responsible for another human being, he could probably give it a shot. His mind flashed to his go-to image of Blaine with a little boy on his hip, tickling him and smiling and kissing his cheek. For the first time, he sketched himself into it too, pushing a stroller containing a baby girl. Maybe another girl next to him, holding his hand and peeking in at the baby. Maybe a little chain of children following him and Blaine around.

He wriggled against Blaine, pushing him down onto the cushions and lying on his chest, their feet tangling at the other end of the sofa.

"He'd be so excited. God, Carole would scream. They're gonna babysit any chance they get."

Blaine raised his head to smile down at the hair tickling his chin.

"They are? Kurt, that almost sounds like a yes."

"Mmm. Let's just say it's not a no. It's an 'I really like the look of you with a baby in your arms'."

Blaine grinned.

"I'll take it."