After their brief sojourn to Ohio, where both are astounded at how well Mike is recovering from his stroke, they settle into married life quickly and easily. For both Kurt and Blaine it's as if everything and nothing changes all at once. On the surface, things remain the same. Blaine goes to work, comes home in the afternoon to sit and write and goes to perform in the evenings when required. Kurt comes and goes, attending auditions, read throughs and taking small parts in whichever productions he's lucky enough to get cast in. But underneath their day to day life the change is deep, profound, almost intangible yet very much real to both. The comfort, the security, the sense of finally having crossed that finish line and now starting a new chapter of their lives together. And of course, the pride at being able to call each other their husband. That never fails to make them smile, revelling in the warm feeling that flares in the pit of their stomachs and spreads all the way to the tips of their fingers and toes.

Summer moves into fall and then into winter, and both are completely astounded by a phone call from Rachel asking them to be the only witnesses at her City Hall wedding to Finn. Of course, they gladly attend and Blaine insists on paying for an extravagant dinner afterwards, but Kurt still can't quite believe that Rachel chose something so completely...un-Rachel-like.

"I'm moving back," she explains to them both, holding her new husband's hand tightly. "Well... To Columbus, anyway."

"What?" Kurt cries, completely amazed.

"Finn's been offered a job at a high school, and I approached OSU about teaching theatre. They offered me a job on the spot."

"You're quitting Broadway at the top of your game?"

"Yes." She smiles up at Finn who pats her hand proudly. "I always knew I'd come home to him," she says quietly. "I always knew."

"I'm happy for you," Blaine says, leaning across to kiss her cheek. "I can tell this is what you want, and I'm really pleased it's all worked out so well. OSU will be lucky to have you. And Finn, you will make an excellent teacher."

"Thanks Blaine. Yeah... I'm pretty excited."

"I'm... I'm... Well I don't think I'll ever be over this," Kurt says with a shake of his head. "I want to say how can you throw away your dreams like that, but I can see you're not throwing them away, are you?" he asks Rachel who shakes her head. "You just went and found new ones."

"I did," she nods. "I achieved what I always wanted to, which was to play Fanny on Broadway. I was lucky enough to get lead in two more amazing productions, but that's it for me. I want to make a life with the man I love, and we belong in Ohio together."

"I don't know where I belong," Kurt says to Blaine once they're on the Chicago bound red-eye.

"With me," he says confidently, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"I know that...but...but...you belong in your classical music world. Do I belong in the theatrical world?"

Blaine sighs, sitting upright and turning to face him. "I honestly don't know, Kurt. I want to say yes, of course you do...but..."

"But I don't get any work."

"It's not that. You do get some work, but it's not..."

"It's not the roles that I want."

"No. And I have to say, whatever doubts I had about Martha, she does get you the auditions; but for whatever reason it's just not working out the way you hoped. And I know how much you hate doing chorus stuff the whole time. So...no...maybe you don't belong there. Maybe you belong in fashion, or teaching drama to kids. Maybe you're more suited to tv...you know Martha seemed pretty set on that commercial for you, but you refused to go to the casting."

"Because it was for jeans, Blaine. No speaking. I'd be nothing more than a model, which I really, really do not want to do. I enjoy fashion, you know I do, and I loved that summer I did at camp but...but it's not where I see my career."

"Where do you, then? Tell me...if you could do whatever you wanted, all obligations to me, your family or anything else aside, where would you be and what would you be doing?"

"West End or Broadway," he says without hesitation. "I'd be playing the lead night after night, in Wicked or Les Mis...maybe even Phantom." Sighing happily he allows his mind to run away with him for a moment before the bubble bursts and he looks at Blaine once more. "But that's not going to happen, is it?"

"Not immediately, no," he says, offering a small conciliatory smile. "But you only graduated back in May. I'd say we're still newlyweds, wouldn't you? Which means, by comparison, that you are still a newbie to the professional theatre world too."

"I don't know," he sighs. "I just don't know if it'd be easier to quit now, forget all about it and find new dreams like Rachel did."

"You don't find dreams, Kurt," Blaine explains, smiling at him indulgently. "They find you. Thrust themselves upon you until you can't ignore them any longer and you just have to chase them...rather like you and I."

"Yes, I'm quite good at thrusting," he says with a grin.

"You are. And I couldn't ignore you, I had to give chase. Listen Kurt, I know you- probably better than I know myself. Rachel found new dreams once she had achieved the first ones. You're not going to be happy until you've given this a clear and concise shot. We leave for Europe on January fourth. When we return, look on it as starting over. New auditions, new roles...look at it all with fresh eyes. If, after...I don't know, six, eight months, you're still as disillusioned then we'll talk about where to go from there."

"Good advice."

"Always listen to your husband," Blaine says with a grin before kissing his cheek and pulling him in for a hug.

Blaine is formally announced as the new leader of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra at their holiday concert on Christmas Eve. The evening is a huge success, made all the more special for Blaine by having his parents and in-laws in the audience along with Kurt. His organ skills for Handel's Messiah- which have given Kurt no end of innuendo filled jokes for weeks- are outstanding, and he receives his own standing ovation. He greets everyone very briefly afterwards, eyes filling with tears when his dad manages to sound the B of his name for the first time since his stroke. A firm hand on his shoulder guides him away to a private reception with the mayor and senator of Chicago, and Kurt is left to wait for his return.

"He's a busy boy," Burt comments as they all settle into the theatre bar.

"He is," Kurt agrees. "Not that I mind," he rushes on. "I mean, he's living his dream, right? That's what we all want to do."

"A...a...and are you living yours?" Mike asks, reaching across to take his hand.

"Not yet," Kurt smiles ruefully. "But I will be. I guess my biggest dream was to marry him, and I can at least say I've achieved that, and it's everything I expected and more."

"Darling," Sara says, kissing his cheek as she sits next to him. "You'll get there. It took Cooper years. Years and years. Of course, that's probably because it took him so long to actually grow up," she muses out loud. "But it will happen for you Kurt. Really, it will."

"That's very sweet," he smiles.

"Besides," Mike interrupts. "You...you...your biggest dream sh..sh..should be having me to stay for the holidays. You got that one."

"Yeah, I totally lucked out," Kurt laughs with a roll of his eyes. "You know, that speech therapist has done wonders with you," he says with a wicked grin. "I almost wish she hadn't bothered."

"Oh darling, don't even get me started," Sara says. "He's back, alright. Yelling for his dinner, asking me to fetch this, that and the other."

"When in reality you should be trying to do all that yourself," Carole interrupts with a pointed look at Mike, who shrugs and grins at Kurt.

"S...S...Sara likes to feel wanted," he explains.

"Wanted, yes," she says with a smile. "Not used."

The joking conversation between the five of them does at least make Kurt happy, and time flies quickly. By the time Blaine returns over an hour later, cheeks flushed from his success, Kurt, Carole and Sara are on their second bottle of wine already.

"Save us," Burt implores him.

"You started without me," a crestfallen Blaine says across the table to his husband.

"Well what did you expect us to do?" Kurt asks, one eyebrow raised. "Sit around twiddling our thumbs? It's not all about you."

"Oh that's the way this is gonna go, is it?" Blaine can feel his anger rising but seems powerless to stop it when Kurt rolls his eyes at him. "You're gonna be a bitter drunk? I think I'll just go home."

"I'm not a bitter drunk," he snaps at him, forgetting about their parents presence. "But neither am I a trophy husband. I'm not going to sit here and wait for your return before I have a drink. We were having a perfectly pleasant evening until you arrived, now either sit down and join us or leave."

Blaine pushes back from the table and heads to the bar, making Kurt flare red and call out. "Don't you dare buy whiskey, Blaine! Don't you dare."

"Um...well...I think we're just going to head back to the hotel," Carole says, standing and clearing her throat as Kurt sits mutinous. She kisses his cheek quickly before taking charge of Mike in his wheelchair. Sara pats his hand and heads to the bar to say goodbye to Blaine, leaving him alone with his dad.

"Kurt I..."

"Dad, please don't," Kurt says, staring straight ahead and not daring to look at him. "I'll cry otherwise, and I just don't think I can handle that. Just...go back to the hotel and I'll see you in the morning."

"Will you two be okay?"

"Yes," Kurt nods firmly. "Of that I have no doubt. But it still sucks when we fight like this."

"He can't help it, you know," Burt says gently. "With a position like his comes huge responsibility. He's expected to attend these things. I don't know why he got upset that you'd been drinking without him, but I'm guessing he was probably a little hurt that he couldn't be with us all evening. A reception with the senator might sound very glamorous and exciting, but it doesn't necessarily mean that's where he wants to be. Blaine's a daddy and momma's boy. You know how much he loves his time with them, and time with you is what he loves more than anything, Kurt, just remember that."

Kurt sighs, leaning his head on his dad's shoulder, "I know. Thank you though, because although I may know this, I don't always remember it."

"Cause you're more like me than we both care to admit," he says, kissing the top of his head briefly. "Now I'm gonna go help Mike into the car. We'll see you both in the morning."

"He's hurting, darling," Sara says softly to her son as he stands at the bar.

Blaine hangs his head, welcoming her hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "What am I supposed to do?" he sighs. "I wonder if the only way he'll be happy is if I quit this altogether. He hates me getting any kind of praise or attention."

"No he doesn't," she says firmly. "And you know that's not true. But jealousy is a powerful emotion, Blaine, and he's only twenty two. He's having to work and strive to achieve even the tiniest bit of success right now, and from where he's standing, it's all just falling into your lap. It's hard to deal with that. But you and I both know that he doesn't begrudge you any of it, and he would be devastated if he even heard you mentioning quitting because of him. Now for goodness sake, get a drink, go and sit with him and thrash this thing out. I'll see you in the morning."

"Beer. Happy?" Blaine snaps as he sits opposite his husband.

"Not really, Blaine, no."

"But why?" he implores. "I don't get it. I shouldn't have gotten angry at you like that, and I apologize. But you said you were having a nice evening and then you go snapping at me saying it's not all about me and how you're not a trophy husband, but I never set out to make you feel like that, Kurt. Never. I'm doing all I can to make you happy but it just doesn't seem to be enough."

Kurt shakes his head, unable to speak as to his horror he feels tears pricking at his eyes. He stares at the table, willing them to go away but when the first one splashes onto the wood he knows he is done for. Seizing his hand, Blaine tugs him from the bar, out into the lobby of the concert hall, now near deserted.

"Blaine!" a voice calls, making Kurt wince.

"Not now, Riccardo," Blaine calls to him. "Kurt doesn't feel too good and I need to get him home. Can I call you?"

"Ah! No worries!" the Italian calls back. "I just want to say have good day with family tomorrow. I see you New Years. We party in your apartment, yes?"

"Yes," Blaine smiles. "Have a Happy Christmas, Riccardo- Lucia and Jules too."

"Thank you. And Kurt be better!"

Kurt nods, still staring at the floor and he finds himself grateful for Blaine's arm around his shoulders as they head outside to find a cab. They don't speak all the way home, where Kurt allows Blaine to divest him of his jacket and shoes, placing them neatly in the hall closet with his own before leading him into the living room. "Here." One simple offer, of arms wide open has Kurt running to him, clutching his shirt as he cries hard and Blaine guides him to the couch, rubbing small, comforting circles on his back as he soothes.

"It's not you," Kurt chokes out through his tears. "You're not the reason I'm unhappy, and please don't ever think that. It's...it's...it's watching you entertaining senators and mayors, it's watching Rachel becoming a theatre professor because she's already achieved her biggest ambition. It's Joe calling to tell me he's going to the Bafta's and the Oscars next year. It's Santana announcing she's moving here to be with Lacy, and bam, she's cast in Alliance's next dance production...it's all of this and me...just waiting and waiting for a chance."

"Kurt, we talked about this just a month ago, and we agreed that you'd look at it afresh after Europe," Blaine says, huffing and puffing until he's maneuvered Kurt into his lap where he belongs. "But if it's making you this unhappy then quit, now. I can't stand to see you like this, and if it was me who made you feel this way I'd be telling you to quit me, too."

"It's not, it's really not!"

"I know, and I'm glad, cause I'm never quitting you. But it's just a job, Kurt, that's all. No one should have a job that makes them this unhappy."

"The job doesn't, though," Kurt cries. "That's just it! Some of the companies I've worked with have been crap, the people toxic, but the job...the actual job...when I'm on stage, I love it. I thrive. I'm lost in the show and completely immersed in the fictional world being created. But it's everything else surrounding it that I hate, most particularly watching the male leads and knowing I could do so much better. But I don't even get to experience that right now because I haven't worked in over two months, Blaine!"

"Kurt, that's nothing. Cooper has gone months without work...and I'm talking like nine or ten, not two."

"But when he does work he gets paid a fortune," Kurt points out.

"Yes, and you know yourself that you get paid well."

"Not like you."

"No, but you wanna know something? My first session gig, doing guitars? I was three months out of college and I thought I had it made. I was paid eight dollars an hour. When I quit session work I was being paid a hundred and fifty. Everyone has to start somewhere, Kurt. You're on the bottom rung of the ladder right now and it will be a long climb, but worth it."

"I love you so much, Blaine," Kurt says as he sniffs and rubs at his eyes. "I'm so glad I married you, because that's about all I've got right now, and it's the best thing I could have."

"You'll always have me, Kurt. But you are so much more than just our marriage. Don't define yourself by us, or your failures and successes. It's all of that and more that makes you so incredibly wonderful."

Kurt nods, lifting his tear stained face to offer a trembling smile. "Can you take me to bed and make love to me?"

"I'll take you to bed," Blaine says, kissing away the tears that linger on his cheeks. "But I'll make love to you in the morning, not now. You're still upset, and sex isn't the answer. You need cuddles, kisses, reassurance and rest. I can give you all of that and it will suffice until tomorrow. Besides, Santa will be along soon and he can't catch us awake, let alone in the middle of boy sex. We can't be responsible for killing Santa."

"You're a goofball," Kurt chuckles through his tears, and he happily lets himself be led to the bedroom, where Blaine holds him tight all night long.

They wake early the next morning, and Blaine keeps his promise, worshipping every inch of Kurt, leaving him a quivering, trembling mess until he comes with a soft cry of his husband's name- who smiles, kissing his lips sweetly and whispering his love into his ear until he follows. After a lazy breakfast in bed they prepare for the imminent arrival of their parents, both bustling around in the kitchen until glorious smells fill the air.

"I think that's about it," Blaine says as he looks around the room. "Which gives us thirty minutes until they arrive and all hell breaks loose."

"They won't be that bad," Kurt says as they flop onto the couch together.

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe Finn and Rachel had the right idea, a cruise around the Bahamas sounds pretty good right now."

"It's their honeymoon," Kurt laughs. "And we should feel smug because we've had ours, and now we're celebrating our first Christmas as husbands."

"That makes me giddy," Blaine grins, sticking his feet in Kurt's lap for him to rub.

"Same."

"You feeling better?"

"I am," Kurt confirms. "I am sorry, Blaine."

"You don't need to say..."

"You always say that, but I do. I've been pretty difficult at times, these last few months; and I've said some really unkind things to you. I promise I'm going to stop. I'm going to concentrate on you, and Europe until we return, and then I'll see how things go."

"Sounds wise," Blaine answers with his head thrown back and eyes closed. "I wonder who could have given you such a good piece of advice?"

"Be quiet," Kurt laughs, tickling his toes and making him squirm.

"Seriously, I'm glad to hear you're happier. And I'd like to apologize too, for the way I acted last night. You're not the only one who gets jealous. I hate that you got all the time with our parents and I had to go and attempt small talk with a guy who clearly didn't want to be there. I would have given anything to be with you."

"My dad said that would be the case."

"Another one you should always listen to," he says, jabbing his toe into Kurt's tummy.

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I give you your gift now?"

He sits, drawing his feet under him as he smiles. "If you like. You want yours too?"

"Not necessarily, you can wait until later if you want, but I just want to..." he trails off, walking into the third bedroom which has now become his sewing room and returning with something behind his back. "I only have one gift for you this year, because it's kind of special."

"Is it a cat?"

"Yes Blaine, because it's very sensible to buy you a cat right before we go to Europe for a month," he answers dryly. "Just be quiet and close your eyes."

Blaine does as he's told and is rewarded with feeling something dropped into his lap. "Open," Kurt commands, and he looks down to find a violin case in his lap, which he opens curiously and gasps.

"Kurt...oh my god," he whispers, running his hands reverently over the instrument. "Kurt...is this...is this a Stradivarius?"

"Yes," Kurt answers quietly, enraptured by the look of joy and amazement on Blaine's face. "I know you've always wanted one. Riccardo helped me source it."

"But you..." He breaks off to shake his head, baffled. "What did you? How...? What did you sell?" he asks, looking at his hands to check both wedding and engagement rings are still in place.

"My soul, I guess," Kurt says with a shy smile. "I've been busy while I've not been working," he explains. "I made Gill her gowns, and she insisted on paying me. Then she asked me to make some for Grace."

"Grace...her daughter who you hate with a passion, Grace?"

"The very same. She was about as thrilled as I was, but she had to admit she was pleased with the finished articles, though I could see it pained her. So Gill gave my number to Maria, Molly's mom and bam...an order for two more gowns. Then Kendra, Abby, Patsy...in fact it's fair to say that nearly all the females, be they orchestra members or spouses will be showcasing a Kurt Hummel original at some point during the upcoming European tour...including the conductors wife."

"You made a gown for Lucia?"

"Correction, I made four gowns for Lucia, and a tux for Riccardo- though that was more as a thank you gift. He went to extraordinary lengths to get the violin for me. He was a phone bidder at an Italian auction."

"Kurt...I don't know what to say," Blaine looks at him earnestly. "So when I come home and ask how you've spent your day and you say you've done nothing..."

"I've been sewing like a madman," he says with a shy laugh. "I wanted to give you something wonderful to let you know how incredibly proud of you I am. You have achieved amazing things this year, and I know next year will be even bigger and better, and you deserve it."

"Thank you," Blaine says sincerely. "I think the greatest thing I achieved was marrying you," he smiles, cocking his head to one side, "and the four rounds of sex. I'm still in awe of myself for that one."

"Just as well we didn't get married in New York," Kurt quips, making Blaine laugh loudly.

"I cannot believe you just said that!" he laughs, "oh my god!"

"Well I did," Kurt grins. "Now play me something on what has to be the worlds most expensive piece of wood."

"It's not a piece of wood," Blaine huffs indignantly, but he smiles as he carefully takes the violin from it's case. "I'm gonna call him George," he whispers happily. "Hello George."

Kurt rolls his eyes fondly. "Oh Jesus."

"Shhh, or George won't play," Blaine says, cocking an eyebrow at him. Picking up the bow he gives a short burst of Vivaldi which leaves Kurt stunned as to how he can play something so complicated without music, but then he returns the violin to its case and leans forward, taking Kurt's face in his hands. "I love you. I can't explain just what a gift like this means to me, but I think you know, because that's why you went to so much trouble to get it- and that is exactly why I love you as much as I do." Slowly, he inclines his head to graze his lips over Kurt's, whose eyelids flutter closed at the touch. Gazing at his face for a moment, Blaine smiles softly before leaning back in...just as their buzzer sounds.

"Ugh," Kurt sighs.

Blaine looks to the window then back to his husband. "Well it's not snowing," he says quietly, his lips millimeters from Kurt's. "They can wait on the sidewalk a little longer."