A/N: The weather report calls for severe angst. Please bring an umbrella.
A/N update: I didn't think I'd have to explain, but I suppose I will. XD
1) This is obviously borderline crack. My friend gave me a completely ridiculous storyline to try to write seriously. I know the slushie incident happened a week ago, but I'm pretending it didn't. Because I'm pretty damn sure that this story wouldn't even be a possibility without disregarding that. AU. K?
2) The government doesn't catch all of the official marriages in different states. If you're caught, you could go to jail or be fined. If you don't file your joint partner on your tax returns, etc, it is possible (although only slightly) that something like this could go under the radar. Also, gay marriage isn't even legal in Nevada. So jump on me for that.
*dusts off undusty hands* Now that that's cleared up, let's continue, shall we? Jebus!
For once, Blaine was thankful for the New York traffic.
Each and every honk was a sign of the delayed arrival home. The angry drivers were almost calming to Blaine, who was having to dry his perspiring palms on the legs of his pants every few seconds. He knew he had to tell Kurt, but he couldn't figure out how.
He silently praised each and every vehicle entering the freeway. The tension inside the car was overwhelming. He could feel Kurt's frustration without even glancing to his right, and yet Kurt hadn't even heard the punch line to the scenario Blaine was sure had to be a joke.
"So, you invited him to stay with us," Kurt verified quietly, staring straight into the distance. Blaine wasn't even sure he'd seen him blink.
"He doesn't have anywhere else to go right now," lied Blaine, and he felt the pangs of guilt once again.
"He can't go home?"
"His... parents aren't exactly welcoming," continued Blaine. He knew it wasn't right. But he didn't feel like a car ride was the best atmosphere for a confession of this magnitude. He couldn't imagine explaining something to Kurt that he didn't even understand himself. His thoughts continued this way for the next thirty minutes of silence, trying to justify the words that were not coming out of this mouth.
Not yet, anyway.
"I don't like this," came Kurt's soft voice again, and Blaine felt his heart break. "You should have asked me first."
Blaine reached his sweaty palm over to catch Kurt's hand, but Kurt pulled it away diligently.
This was not going to be easy.
"Welcome home, boys. I made dinner."
Sebastian's charming voice only seemed to irritate Kurt further.
"I ate on the plane," mumbled Kurt, and with one last furious look at Sebastian, he disappeared into the bedroom.
"well, guess it's just us then!" said Sebastian cheerfully, and snatched Kurt's plate off the table a little too quickly. "I hope you like pasta!"
"Sebastian, I don't think-"
"Please, Blaine, I've been cooking since you left. I know you didn't eat lunch. You must be starving," encouraged Sebastian. "Here, I bought some nice wine..."
"I don't drink anymore," responded Blaine, wanting desperately to run after Kurt.
"Come on, it was pretty expensive-"
"Look, okay, I'll eat... but just water, please," said Blaine quickly, glancing at the hallway to the bedroom. Sebastian gave him a smirk and filled his wine glass with water. He pulled out a chair and motioned for Blaine to sit, but Blaine, noticing the freshly-cut roses and candles on the table, refused the notion and took the seat across the table. Sebastian glanced at Blaine curiously, but did not comment. He took his own seat and watched as Blaine took his first bite.
"Do you like it?"
"It's... fine," muttered Blaine. He was lying, of course. It was incredible. The creamy alfredo sauce tasted homemade, and it was perfectly balanced. He and Kurt hadn't been able to cook much with their conflicting schedules. He missed experimenting in the kitchen with Kurt, and made a mental note to continue this practice after Sebastian left. Trying not to encourage Sebastian further, he ignored his grumbling stomach and ate slowly, careful to chew each bite as if he'd just eaten a full meal before his arrival.
"You're right. It's a little garlic heavy," noted Sebastian, who was now working on his own plate. "The wine's great, though, really, you should have a sip." He leaned over and offered Blaine his own glass.
"I-"
"Come on, just a sip. It compliments the alfredo perfectly."
Blaine, who was determined to return to Kurt as fast as possible, took the wine glass. Sebastian smiled. "Go on."
Chardonnay. Pricey chardonnay. Sebastian was right. The light taste was quite pleasant when paired with the thick white sauce.
"Domaine Leflaive Meursault. I've been saving it for a special occasion," said Sebastian. Blaine reached to return the glass, but Sebastian waved it away. "No, you keep that. I'll grab a glass of my own."
Kurt paced the bedroom, giving the clock an angry glare every so often. He couldn't place his finger on it, but the whole situation seemed odd. What was Sebastian playing at? Didn't he realize Blaine was married?
After one last hopeful glance at the clock, he collapsed backward into the bed and stared at the ceiling. Perhaps this was nothing. Blaine hadn't said how long their guest would be staying, but maybe it wouldn't be too long. Kurt could handle a few weeks if it meant things were back to normal again.
Blaine.
How could he? How could he agree to let this asshole sleep under their roof? On the night of his return, no less? Maybe he liked Sebastian. Maybe, even, as much as Sebastian liked-
No.
Kurt brushed the thought from his mind, feeling slightly guilty. How could he think such horrible things about his husband? Blaine was just being caring; Sebastian had lost his house and come begging for a place to stay. Kurt knew Blaine to be one of the most selfless individuals on the planet. Of course he would help out an old friend in need. That was one of the things Kurt loved most about Blaine. He couldn't let himself forget that now.
Just a few weeks, and everything will be back to normal, thought Kurt. Exhausted from his flight, he curled under the blankets and closed his eyes.
"So he actually... he actually... tipped the taxi driver with condoms?" exclaimed Blaine, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes and draining his glass. "You're kidding!"
"He didn't have any money. We didn't date much longer after that," added Sebastian, laughing with Blaine.
"How did you end it?"
"I told him I was married to another man," said Sebastian. The two stared at each other for a second, trying to contain their laughter. It only took a few seconds for them to burst into additional fits of giggles.
"I guess that's rightful grounds for divorce, then," slurred Blaine, "You cheated! I'll take those signed papers, now."
"Well hey now, you married another man," replied Sebastian, "and I'm still here."
Blaine's laughter ceased. He stared at the man across the table, and through the cloudiness of the wine, felt his guilt for Kurt return. This wasn't right. He needed to get up, to go return to his real husband. He didn't need to be here. Not with Sebastian. Not with wine. He stood up clumsily and reached for Sebastian's empty plate.
"No, hey, let me do that," insisted Sebastian, pulling the plate from Blaine. "You don't want all your nice china broken."
Blaine sat down again and watched as Sebastian returned the dishes to the sink. "Sebastian... why now?"
For a moment, he didn't speak. He rinsed the leftover sauce from the plates carefully before placing them into the dishwasher. Finally, he turned to face Blaine.
"Because I saw the marriage announcement. Because I shouldn't have waited. Because it's too late, and because I love you."
Blaine's heart sank. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty for the tall, manipulative, attractive man before him, but his heart was heavy, the wine was heavy, his stomach was heavy, and everything was too much.
"You... you can't... you're blackmailing me and you can't-"
"Would you have let me stay otherwise?"
"It doesn't matter, Sebastian! You can't... I can't... I just..."
"You haven't told him yet, have you?" asked Sebastian knowingly. "You just want this to all go away."
"Well... yeah," admitted Blaine, staring off into the hallway once again. "I love Kurt, Sebastian. He's my... he's my everything." The tears of guilt returned, welling up in his eyes and blurring his vision.
"And you are mine," replied Sebastian quietly. He followed Blaine's eyes to the hallway. "I love you, and I will fight for you. Our agreement still stands."
"One month, and you're gone?"
"I'm not going to pretend it doesn't hurt that you just said that," said Sebastian. "But yeah, if that's how you want to look at it."
The sound of the shutting door was just enough to wake him up, but he kept his eyes open only long enough to read the telling numbers on the clock. He heard the clumsy footsteps of his husband enter the room, the quiet curse under his breath as he no doubt stubbed his toe, and the swishing sound of him changing into pajamas.
Two hours.
He felt the sheets move as Blaine settled into bed. He smelled the wine on his breath.
Two hours.
Kurt considered his next course of action. If he waited until morning, he would probably get more coherent answers.
Two. Fucking. Hours.
Then again, if his husband was indeed drunk, he would probably get a more honest answer. Did he want to hear it? He formed the questions in his head. Why did it take you two hours to eat dinner with him? Why is he really staying with us? When is he leaving?
All of these might have been perfectly reasonable questions, but what came out was:
"Are you fucking him?"
If Kurt was surprised by his own confrontational tone, it was nothing compared to the alarmed gasp that escaped Blaine's lips.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Kurt couldn't bring himself to turn around. He allowed himself to open his eyes again, and watched the blinking clock with intensity.
"Kurt, baby, of course not! What are you-"
Kurt turned around, angry. He stared directly into his husband's eyes, glowing with the blinking reflection of those damned green digital numbers.
"You promised you were done."
"Done what? I would never-"
"Done drinking."
Blaine fell silent, his eyes wandering towards the green lit sheets between them. Kurt's did not move. He would stay awake forever if he had to. He was not speaking without Blaine's response. Blaine seemed to realize this after a few minutes. His eyes met Kurt's once again, but this time, they were wet with sadness.
"I didn't want to tell you like this," came the response, and Kurt felt his heart shatter. He chose this moment to look away from Blaine, and did not fight the tears that came to his eyes. "Not-"
"I apologize if this is an inconvenient time to admit your infidelity, Blaine. Next time I'll try not to confront you when you've been drinking all night with your little friend!" shouted Kurt, but he was barely able to finish his sentence; the sobs became too much, and he curled into a ball away from Blaine.
"No, no, Kurt, it's not like that," insisted Blaine, his voice quivering. "I wish... I honestly wish to God it was. It would be... so much easier..."
Kurt swung his head back around fiercely, meeting Blaine's eyes once more. "If you don't tell me what the fuck-"
And then it became too much. Blaine erupted into intense sobs, rendering his speech useless. Kurt watched his husband cry, unsure of what to do. His instincts were to grab him, to hold him, to tell him it would be okay, but he couldn't. The uncertainty was tugging at him, but the anger kept him away. He wasn't sure what could be worse than Blaine sleeping with Sebastian, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Finally, Blaine spoke.
"We're... we're married, Kurt."
"I know we are! Now tell me what-"
"No. S-Sebastian and I. We're... we're married."
"What... Blaine, how much did you have to dri-"
"Kurt!" interrupted Blaine, reaching out to grab his husband's shoulders. "I'm not fucking lying to you! Listen to me! I screwed up, I... I didn't even remember, and then-"
Kurt sat up, pushing Blaine's hands away. Maybe it was a mistake, confronting him in this state of mind. He was clearly delusional. "Listen, Blaine, I just want to know the truth... just tell me. Start from the beginning," he said calmly, trying to hold back all of his feelings. He needed to know. It was no longer a question. Something wasn't right.
Blaine inhaled heavily, holding onto his breath for several long seconds before he spoke again.
"I love you, Kurt. You have to understand that. You are my everything. I never meant for this to happen, and I swear to you I never... I never slept with him," he began softly, clenching his fists.
"On my twenty first birthday, when your plane got delayed? The Warblers took me to... to Vegas. I don't remember much from the trip. I... had a lot to drink."
Kurt felt the fear replace his anger. There was no way.
"I woke up in my hotel room, I was late for my flight. I remember leaving, I felt awful. I was frustrated that I was late, and I felt like shit, and I just... I just left. I didn't say bye to anyone. I didn't think much of it. I honestly had completely forgotten about it until... until I came home this afternoon to find Sebastian at my... at OUR... doorstep. And he had it, Kurt... he had the... the certificate..."
No.
It wasn't Blaine that Kurt most wanted to shout at; the temptation for the other target was much greater. He thrust the blankets off and stormed into the living room. Sebastian was sitting on the couch, staring at a photograph. When he noticed Kurt, he smiled.
"I was just looking through some of my old pictures. Want to see?"
Kurt wasn't sure how anyone could be so cruel. He snatched the photo out of Sebastian's hands. There they were. His beautiful, innocent boyfriend, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, embracing the devil himself. The sign above them was revolting. Kurt tore the picture in half and watched as "The Chapel-" and "-O' Love" fell to separate parts of the wooden floor.
"You took advantage of him! You horrible... you..." Kurt thought for a moment, but he wasn't sure there was a word to completely express how awful the man was. "Get the hell out of my house!"
Sebastian's smile returned. "Come on, Kurt... I don't think either of us want our husband in jail, do we?"
His usage of the word "our" might have merited a different response, but the last bit left Kurt too afraid to argue. "What are you talking about?"
"Polygamy is a crime in all fifty states, sweetheart. Care for some wine?"