George

chapter 4: Engagement Ring

by padfoot

This was written as a Christmas present for midnightfeather. Many thanks to her for firstly prompting me to write it, and secondly for giving me permission to share it with all of you.

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.

Kurt knows that look on Blaine. He knows the nervous lip-biting and the frantic finger-drumming and the way George stays by his side at all times, as if he too is infected with Blaine's anxiousness.

"Stop making me nervous," Kurt whines, and Blaine laughs tightly and glances down at George, steady and sure on his heels as Blaine frets around the living room, lighting candles and dimming lights.

He brings out a box of chocolates and two glasses of champagne – the nice champagne that came in a fancy box from his father when he graduated from NYADA – sitting them on the coffee table before disappearing into the kitchen again. George's little nails are tap-tap-tapping on the floorboards as he follows, never leaving his master's side. Kurt settles back on the couch, unwilling to touch the champagne or the chocolates because something is clearly going on and he's not sure if he should be worried or excited. He can see over the separating wall as Blaine opens a kitchen cupboard and pulls out the packet of dog food, and he can hear the clang of dog biscuits being dropped into George's metal bowl.

When Blaine comes back into the living room, George is no longer trailing him, now occupied with his dinner in the kitchen.

"Are we alone now?" Kurt asks, aiming to ease the palpable tension in the room.

Blaine doesn't seem to get the hint, just nodding stiffly as he sits beside Kurt.

"Have some champagne," he suggests, gesturing to Kurt's glass but not touching his own.

"I'd rather not," Kurt admits, "Because you're making me incredibly nervous and I'm sort of worried that it's poisoned or something."

He's relieved when Blaine manages a small smile at that, and so he reaches out to grab Blaine's hand, trapping his fingers to stop them drumming on his knee.

"What's going on Blaine? Talk to me."

Blaine lets out a breath, and his whole body sort of sags with it. He wets his lips with a sweep of his tongue, shuffles on the couch and shoots a nervous glance towards the Christmas tree, the small stack of presents beneath it.

"I got you something," Blaine blurts, very quickly. He ducks his head with a nervous smile and tries again, looking Kurt square in the eyes. "I got you a- uh. Well, a Christmas present, I guess. And I wasn't sure if you'd be ready-" he cuts himself off, looks down again, then back to Kurt, "-if you'd like it. Because it's sort of... not really a-uh, um... normal present. I mean, usually I get you scarves and stuff and- and this isn't that."

Kurt tries to look kind and tries to be calm, but his heart is hammering in his chest, too caught up in Blaine's anxious ranting.

"This is something that I've wanted to give you for a while – forever, really, if I think about it, ever since I met you – but we needed to go through a lot of stuff to get here, to be the- the men that we are now and to have the relationship that we have now. I'm not saying that everything we went through was good, but- but it all happened, you know? It all got us here and... well, here is great. Here is wonderful. Here is-"

"Here is perfect," Kurt assures, fingers still pressing against Blaine's on his knee.

"Right. But, I've also sort of been thinking that- that moving forward from here might be kind of great too. There's so many things I want to do with my life and I don't know what the future holds, but well, Kurt- I know – I've always known, I think – that I want you to be there for everything. For all my life. For every second of my future."

"I will be," Kurt vows, the words falling so easily, so obviously from his lips. Because of course he'll be there for Blaine forever. Of course.

"Right," Blaine licks his lips again, and then pulls his hand away from Kurt's to stand and walk over to the tree. From behind the stack of presents, he pulls out one little gift – a small, cubic thing, wrapped in boring dark paper, as if it were intended not to be seen. He moves back towards Kurt, stopping in front of the couch. Dropping down onto one knee there in front of his boyfriend, the little wrapped box held up in both hands.

"Kurt," Blaine says, and by now Kurt is feeling light-headed, half-sure that he's going to faint because this can't be happening, this can't be happening, but God he so, so wants it to be. "You are perfect. And nothing could make me happier or make my life more perfect than you being in it forever. Properly. As my husband. So, Kurt Hummel, will you ma-"

"Yes!"

Kurt's answer is a sob and a shriek as he jumps onto his boyfriend – fiancé – and Blaine is laughing and crying and murmuring, "You didn't let me finish," against Kurt's lips as he kisses him once, twice, a thousand times because he can now, Kurt wants him to, for the rest of their lives. And they're probably both crying a bit and Blaine is ripping off the boring paper that the box is wrapped in and Kurt is arranged somehow on his lap, both of them curled up in each and staring in silent awe as the little box is revealed and opened and oh, God the ring is perfect and Kurt is crying now, really, truly crying with tears on his cheeks and big, happy smile on his face.

"I love you," Blaine says, his face buried in Kurt's neck. "I meant to say it somewhere in that speech, but then I think I panicked and forgot. But, Kurt, I love you so much. I'll love you forever. I love you, I love you, I love you."

It's such a mess of emotion and wet tears and too many hands trying to find each other: Blaine trying to pull the ring out of the box and Kurt trying to remember which hand he's supposed to put it on, because things like that fall straight out of your head when you're actually there and being proposed to. But somehow it all sorts itself out and Blaine and Kurt are still wrapped up in each other on the floor, a ring sitting securely around Kurt's finger and Blaine's fingers weaving and touching and caressing it, as if he can't quite believe it's going to be there forever. As tends to happen at times like these, Kurt can't help but think that none of this feels real. Surely he'll wake up in the morning and this will all have been a dream.

But then George comes bounding out of the kitchen, seeing the pile of bodies on the living room floor and leaping in to join the fray. And all Kurt can feel is George's rough tongue licking his face and Blaine's hands gripping his hard, Blaine's face buried in his neck and yes, Kurt thinks, this is it. This is what family feels like. This is the start of the rest of his life.