Things are going well for Kurt. For Blaine, too, he supposes; they're happily in love, have been dating for three years, and have only almost broken up once or twice—what was there to complain about? Blaine's career keeps growing; he was on tour last summer but was back in the city now, recording his new album and working out the details for another tour in the summer.
Kurt, on the other hand, is working on a new Broadway show that is gathering some buzz already. "A Chorus Line" had ended after a good five year run; Kurt was in the show for three of those five years. Now, working on "Silly Love Songs," though, he's more than happy. It has always been his dream to be part of an original Broadway cast—and it's also everything he'd expected it to be.
Even if he has to deal with Rachel in the cast, too.
Well, he shouldn't put it quite that way. Rachel might've been an annoyance in high school—okay, actually, she still is. The only difference was that she has toned it down a little. A tiny little bit, but a little nonetheless. Blaine always makes fun of him for the love-hate relationship he and Rachel have, but he just shrugs it off. They do have a pretty dysfunctional thing going—it's the New Directions syndrome, Kurt always tells Blaine.
Either way, things are going very well indeed. Sometimes, Kurt has these days when he feels like his life is honestly something out of a movie and he's just going to wake up and realize he's still a sixteen-year-old gay teenager in Ohio. Is that a good thing? He can't always tell. A little voice in the back of his mind keeps telling him that it is all too good to be true; how could he have gotten so lucky?
"Hello? Earth back to Kurt?" Rachel says in her annoyingly chipper voice, looking at him. They're rehearsing one of their numbers for "Silly Love Songs" but Kurt has been spacing out for quite a while. After ten hours of dancing, he can't really help it if he's having trouble concentrating. He rolls his eyes at Kurt and looks at his script to check where he's supposed to be standing before taking one step to the right and looking at Rachel expectantly.
The show is all about two best friends who move to New York and try to become Broadway actors; just another one of the reasons Kurt loves it so much. Kurt's character, Elliot, is extremely cynical and jaded, while Rachel's character, Charlotte, is a hopeless romantic who falls in love with the director of the small show she gets cast in and—well, things get messy. Kurt and Rachel work well together, even if they're constantly getting on each other's nerves. Just yesterday, Rachel got overly enthusiastic during on of their numbers and thought it would be very in character to just run her hands through his hair.
Needless to say, Kurt ignored her the rest of the afternoon. Their cast mates had found his reaction hilarious and decided to make the most of his aversion to people touching his hair, so now, instead of hugs and handshakes, he got his hair ruffled every time someone said hi to him.
Kurt is telling Blaine all about this as they walk through Quinn's art gallery in Chelsea; they've been in touch with her for a few months, ever since they ran into her at a deli right around the corner from their apartment, which, ironically enough, is also near where Quinn now lives. She's been doing well, Kurt thinks. She and Jesse met up after college and have been together for four years now; Quinn says she thinks he wants to propose, and that she would definitely say yes if that were the case.
"Poor baby," Blaine says, pouting mockingly at him. Kurt smacks his arm and rolls his eyes before walking away to look at a beautiful photograph of a building on Brooklyn. Blaine follows immediately, being the good boyfriend he is, wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist and kissing his cheek.
"You know I hate when people touch my hair," Kurt whines, still unable to drop the topic. He feels the slightest bit stupid for letting it get to him so much, but he honestly can't help it. It's his hair! His most prized possession! His pride and joy! "And now I have fifty people touching my hair every day. It's torture."
Blaine hums noncommittally in response and walks toward the next piece, commenting on something or other about the artist's portrayal of the subject in such a simplistic way. Sometimes Kurt wishes his boyfriend weren't so smart. Sometimes.
"Hey, don't do the whole 'I'm going to nod and pretend I'm interested' thing to me," Kurt says, following after Blaine. "You know I hate when you do that. Blaine. Blaine!"
Blaine spins around, looking at him exasperatedly. "What is it, Kurt?" he asks, raising his eyebrows. His very peculiar, triangular-shaped eyebrows. Kurt has a abrupt urge to point this out, but he bites the remark back, knowing it's completely out of nowhere and unnecessary to comment on it.
"Can you, I don't know, sympathize a little with me here?" he asks, suddenly feeling very immature. He takes a sip of the martini in his hands and looks at Blaine, who just sighs and runs his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're right. I'm totally overreacting here."
Blaine shakes his head and takes a step closer, holding out one of his hands. Kurt reaches out with his free hand and takes it, immediately intertwining their fingers. Holding Blaine's hand is something he just won't ever get tired of. They don't need to say anything, because they know they're okay. It was a stupid fight, but it's over now.
They spend the rest of the night like this, walking from piece to piece and just talking, telling each other about their days at work. By the end of the night, Kurt feels infinitely better about the hair thing.
As they're getting into a cab to head to their apartment, Blaine suddenly gasps and looks at Kurt. "I almost forgot to tell you!" he exclaims, pressing his forehead to his palm in a move that's so very Blaine of him. Kurt takes his hand and laces their fingers together, waiting for Blaine to continue. "Finn called today. He said that if we could go to Lima that weekend, that'd be great, because he and Rachel have an announcement to make."
Kurt looks at Blaine, eyebrows raised and lips pursed. There's only one thing he can think of that would require them going all the Lima. "And Rachel didn't tell me at rehearsal?" he says contemplatively. "You think he finally proposed to the poor girl?"
Blaine grins and nods. "That or he's going to propose to her when we're there," he answers. Kurt nods in reply, turning to look out the window. He knows that they're all old enough to get married, but a part of him doesn't feel like it. He's turning thirty soon—and Blaine's birthday was last month—but he isn't in a rush to get married at all. He doesn't feel old. He feels good, young, in his prime. He isn't even sure he wants to get married anytime soon.
He turns to look at Blaine and considers telling him that. He knows Blaine and he knows what Blaine wants—a future, kids and a nice big house with a white picket fence and a swing on the porch. Kurt wants it too, but he doesn't know if he wants it yet. And that right there is the problem.
Kurt can't seem to stop thinking about weddings and marriages for the next few days as they get ready to drive to Lima. He feels like driving back home is a really, really bad idea, but Burt and Carole are moving to a new house and they insisted Kurt pick up the things that he'd never taken with him to college. They rent a Navigator, much like the one Kurt drove back in high school, and accept the fact that they have to drive ten hours.
He just never realized how long the drive from Manhattan to Lima was until the third hour straight of listening to Katy Perry. Even though he and Blaine have already been dating for three years (so obviously, he's known about his obsession with the singer for a while), he's come to realize during the one-third of the trip that they've already completed that her songs don't get any less repetitive with time.
"Any chance we can listen to something else? Something that isn't Katy Perry?" Kurt asks hesitantly, knowing that Blaine will say no. Blaine is a bit of a music hog and he has very predictable music tastes—to be fair, he has gotten better since they started dating, but they were still nowhere near Kurt's.
Okay, maybe he was a bit of a music hog—okay, and a snob, too. Kurt looks over at him and winces, knowing the look on Blaine's face. It's the "I'm trying really hard to say no to you in the very nicest way possible" face, one that Blaine has down pat, since he uses it so often anyway. He pouts, giving Blaine his best puppy dog eyes and hoping that he'll go for it. "Blaine, please? We can listen to anything else you want. Just… no more Katy Perry," he says.
"But you know Katy is my driving muse!" Blaine says defensively, frowning at Kurt before looking back on the road. "Plus, we've only gotten through three of her albums. We have another five to listen to before it's your turn. And then you can play all the Lady Gaga you want."
Kurt sighs and crosses his arms, deciding that as long as Blaine was going to listen to Katy Perry, he was just going to ignore him. Clearly, that was the logical thing to do, because no matter how many times Kurt tries to persuade him with sexual favors, it doesn't seem to work. He puts his feet up on the dashboard and leans the seat back before slipping on his Ray Bans and trying to get comfortable. Maybe if he sleeps through it, the music will become bearable.
Not even five minutes later, Blaine starts talking to him, not even noticing his "I'm ignoring you" stance. Was it not obvious enough? Kurt doesn't answer, simply huffing and turning sideways so he was looking at the door. Blaine still doesn't take notice and keeps talking, going on and on about who knows what. Probably something about Katy Perry, since she's so fantastic and all. Yeah, right.
"Kurt?" Blaine says, finally realizing that he's been getting the cold shoulder for at least half an hour. The car has been nothing but Katy Perry for a while, and Kurt is just getting really tired of it. "Are you really ignoring me?" Blaine tries again.
"Okay, that's really childish of you," Blaine mutters, and Kurt sits up suddenly, taking off his sunglasses so he can properly glare at Blaine. Childish? He isn't being childish. He's just tired of listening to Katy Perry. Is that so bad?
"I'm being childish?" he repeats coldly, looking at Blaine with his eyebrows raised. In one swift move, he presses eject on the CD player and takes the CD out, still glaring at Blaine. "I'll show you childish!"
Before he can properly think about what he's doing, he's opening the window and tossing the CD out, which, judging by Blaine's expression, was not a smart move at all. It's worth it for one second, just because Blaine is gaping at him and it's all really funny—but only for a second. Because then Blaine is just plain mad, and Kurt knows one of their screaming matches is about to happen.
"Are you demented or something?" Blaine exclaims, still looking thoroughly shocked. "That was my deluxe edition of her debut album! Do you know how hard I had to look to get that?"
"It's a CD, Blaine!" Kurt replies haughtily, rolling his eyes. "You have it on your computer, on your phone and on your iPod. And you basically forced me to put it on mine, too. I'm sure you'll be fine."
Blaine just gapes at him, sitting there with his mouth open (which is totally unflattering, by the way), like he can't come up with a proper response to Kurt dismissing his most prized possession as just a CD. "You can't give me shit for that, Kurt Hummel, and you know it," he snaps, narrowing his eyes at Kurt as his hands tighten around the steering wheel. Kurt notices the speed going up increasingly fast—they're definitely driving a good fifteen miles past the speed limit now.
"Blaine, slow down," he says calmly, settling back in his seat and putting his Ray Bans back on. "No need to drive like a maniac."
"Stop trying to control me!" Blaine cries out, shooting him a quick glare before turning towards the road and pressing down on the gas. They were so going to get pulled over now. "Why do you have to be such a control freak? Is this what you're going to be like when we get married?"
When they get—what? Kurt's jaw drops open. "What are you talking about? When we get married? We're not even engaged," he says, trying to sound calm and collected, and probably failing miserably at it.
"Fine," Blaine mutters through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were white. "Will you marry me, you psychotic, demented control freak?"
Kurt doesn't even know what to say. One on hand, Blaine just proposed and he wants to cry and scream and hug him and never let him go. Every doubt that he'd had about getting married seems to have gone right out the window with Blaine's Katy Perry CD. But on the other hand, Blaine just called him psychotic and a control freak, and Kurt is sure he should be offended.
"Holy shit," Blaine whispers, and it's so quiet compared to the rest of their conversation, the car almost feels empty without their screams. "I just proposed to you, didn't I? Holy shit, Kurt, I'm so sorry. That wasn't supposed to happen yet, not till your birthday and I was getting a ring and I did not mean to call you psychotic and deranged and a control freak—"
"Demented," Kurt interrupts, looking at Blaine. Suddenly, he's really damn sure what's going to happen next and it feels good.
"Sorry?"
"You called me demented," Kurt explains and he's grinning, his eyes bright and even a little shiny with tears (not that he'll admit it) because holy crap, he's going to get married to Blaine. "Yes, by the way."
Then Blaine is grinning, too, and his eyes fill with tears. He doesn't even try to hold back, just grins like a fool, and Kurt falls even harder for this wonderful man who, he realizes now, is going to become his husband. Because they're getting married. "Blaine. Stop crying and drive," he says, but the remark doesn't come out the way he wants it to; how could it? They're both crying a little, both grinning widely. Kurt grabs Blaine's hand and squeezes it and they both chuckle and in that moment, Kurt knows it's definitely all going to be okay.
The CD, however, he will need to replace.