Happy Wednesday, my loves.

Sorry I'm a little late. I had a doctor's appointment. But I wasn't going to miss a C&E update day :) You know I never leave you hanging if I can help it!

Hope you all had a wonderful week. Thanks for all the great comments on the past chapter.

Hugs and eternal love to Christine, who makes each of my stories look a little better.

Hugs and Taylor Swift lyrics to Sofi, who keeps my WIP list on track.

This chapter's song is Stupid Things.

Enjoy!

Friend, I've done something stupid again

It's not that I don't love you, I do

It's just I made this black hole so blue

I've done something stupid again

The apartment was really quiet when Kurt slipped the key into the lock and walked in. He assumed, because it was easier and more logical to, that Ian was still in the office. He took his coat off, hung it by the door, kicked his shoes off, and then made his way to the bedroom, feeling the slight buzzing of alcohol singing through his veins. They hadn't drunk much, not really – Kurt had stuck to wine and had stopped after the third glass, and Blaine had two beers, and Kurt was not going to think about what it looked like when he wrapped his lips around the opening of bottle whenever he took a sip…

Maybe he was a little drunker than he thought.

The light was on in the master bedroom, and he couldn't say he wasn't surprised to find Ian in bed, sitting with his back against the bedrest, reading a book. He glanced up at Kurt when he came in, eyebrows raising.

"Hi," he said. "I was starting to get worried. I didn't know you were going out."

"Just felt like getting some fresh air and grabbing a drink," Kurt shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "When did you get home?"

"About an hour ago," Ian replied. He watched Kurt as he began to take his clothes off and replace them with his pajamas. "You look cute. Did you go out with Rachel?"

Kurt ignored the compliment in favor of answering the question. "No. I went out alone."

The lie slipped past his lips before he could even think about it. He frowned at himself for a moment. He had no idea why he hadn't just admitted that he had seen Blaine. But he hadn't mentioned it after getting coffee with him the other day, and he felt like now it would be just awkward that he had met with a guy twice without mentioning it to his husband.

"Kurt…" Ian murmured. He put his book down and slid across the bed to place his hand on Kurt's back, trying to get his attention. "Are you alright? I feel like you have been… sort of different lately."

"I'm fine," Kurt said, and moved away, Ian's hand falling limply to the mattress. "I'd better start with my skin care routine. Go to sleep, if you want. You must be tired."

He went into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself. Blaine's words were echoing in his head as he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself: Sometimes you love someone so much that it's okay to give something else up.

They seemed to be a searing pain in the middle of his chest. Because Kurt had believed so ever since he had agreed to marry Ian: it was okay that he wasn't going to be a father, because he loved Ian, and being his husband was a real, tangible possibility. It hadn't felt like a consolation prize, even if a part of him had held hope that maybe one day Ian would change his mind, even if a part of him felt that loss that something had been ripped from his hands without previous warning.

Maybe he had pushed it down, down, down, trying to ignore it, trying to pretend it didn't exist, until it had become a black hole inside himself, one that was now threatening to get too big to take.

But what was Kurt supposed to do? It was too late now, for regrets. And he kept telling himself he was fine, that he had a perfect life. He was lucky. It was stupid to complain, it was stupid to feel like there was something lacking when he had it all…

He rushed through his usual skin care routine. Ian was right, he had been different lately. Everything had felt different, like he had been wearing the wrong skin, like he wasn't at home even when he was in his apartment, like everything he had imagined his life would be was distorted and weird. But he could fix all that, couldn't he? Everything could go back to the way it used to be. He could go back to being happy in his marriage, happy in his career, happy in his life.

Ian was probably sitting out there, waiting to push him to talk. It would be a good idea to try to fix things now. The longer he waited, the harder it would be. He would never change his mind when it came to having kids, but maybe talking to him would remind Kurt why he had given it all up in the first place. Maybe they could find a way to meet each other in the middle: Kurt could give up kids, and Ian could give up some time at work so they could be together more often, so Kurt didn't have to feel like he was in this marriage all by himself…

But when he finally left the bathroom, determined to get to the bottom of it tonight, he found his bedroom completely dark: Ian had turned the light off and gone to sleep. Kurt stood there, looking at the bed, the slight shape of his husband under the blankets barely visible with the lack of light, and felt that black hole inside himself grow a few inches more.

He wondered how long it would be before it swallowed him whole.

And now it's little lies and alibis

And the second phone

Can't make it home, I'm working late

You know I hate to miss the kids' bedtime again

I drank too much, a working lunch

I'll crash in town, so, don't wait up

If I don't text, my phone's just dead

I've got that thing, I'm sure I said?

It started with a phone call from Blaine just two days after they had seen each other.

"I just dropped the kids off at their after school activities and I have a little over an hour to kill. Do you want to get some coffee?"

They met for coffee and chatted and even though neither of them said it out loud, they realized it was the best part of their day, and they both wanted more of that. So having coffee turned into running errands together, because getting groceries or picking up the dry cleaning was a lot more fun when you had someone to do it with.

It was the easiest friendship Blaine had ever had. They talked and talked for hours and they never seemed to run out of things to say. They texted each other throughout the day too, and Blaine found himself smiling like an idiot whenever he checked his phone during work to find a message from Kurt waiting for him. It felt like a small relief in the middle of all the uncertainty he was living at home, so maybe he clung to it a little tighter than he should have.

But Kurt seemed to be clinging on just as tightly.

He asked Blaine to join him when he went out shopping, seemed delighted whenever Blaine let him pick clothes for him (he made him blush when he complimented how he looked, like that shirt matches your eyes and uhm, yeah… your legs look amazing in those pants) and he soon came up with a long list of coffee shops and bars he wanted to go to with Blaine. It seemed like they always had somewhere new to try.

Soon they were squeezing any free moment they had to spend together. Whenever Jack was home, Blaine told him he was going out with a friend and left him in charge of the kids. Kurt had it much easier – more often than not, Ian wasn't even home to realize he was going out.

It helped to mitigate the loneliness, and sometimes that was all that was needed.

"You look tired," Blaine commented one afternoon, steaming cup of coffee between his hands. He had just arrived at their usual coffee shop after dropping Lena and Theo at karate and piano lessons, respectively. His nose was cold. The weather was getting more and more inclement. "Are you alright?"

Kurt sighed. As usual, his laptop was on top of the table – he usually worked while he waited for Blaine. "Is that your way of telling me I look like crap?"

Blaine snorted. "Kurt, I've only known you for a few weeks, and I already know it's impossible for you to look like crap. You even wear designer clothes to go grocery shopping. If anything I should ask you if I look like crap."

Kurt rolled his eyes, took a sip of his coffee like he needed it to keep breathing, and then sighed again, heavily. "I am tired. This damn book… it shouldn't be so hard to write nonsense."

"Why would you call it nonsense?" Blaine asked. "You're a talented writer, Kurt. I've read your books. They're wonderful."

"Because they are. There's so much freedom in writing children's books, you can get away with anything. You can write a book about a bunny who wants to become an astronaut because he heard there are giant carrots in space, and no one would even be surprised. And sometimes I wonder if my ideas are just outrageous or if they're actually good." Kurt placed his now empty cup on the table and reached for the cookie they had ordered to share. He broke a bit off it and put it in his mouth.

"So what are you saying?" Blaine tilted his head as he regarded him. "That you want to write books for adults?"

"No, I'm saying I don't know if I should be writing at all," Kurt groaned in frustration.

Blaine smiled sadly at him. "You know I think your books are fantastic and all my children, including both my students and my own kids, love them. And it would be a great loss if one day you decide to stop writing them. But, that said… Kurt, you know, since the very first day I've had the feeling that you don't enjoy doing this as much as you could. I don't know if you're just having a bad time with this book in particular or if it's something else, but… why don't you consider taking a break, at least? Clear your head, find new ideas, maybe figure out how to continue this book or what to work on next, if this isn't working out…" Blaine paused when he saw a slight grin on Kurt's face. There was something wistful about it, almost ironic. "What?"

"My husband would say exactly the opposite," he replied.

Blaine didn't know why, but he shifted awkwardly on his seat. "Well, he probably knows the business a lot better than I do…"

"He does. He's also obsessed with it," Kurt said and sighed once more, like he couldn't stop doing that. "And maybe what I need is a new challenge. I've been doing this same thing for years, and sometimes you get bored, right?"

"Sure, it's possible," Blaine nodded.

Kurt watched him with narrowed eyes. "Are you lying to me to make me feel better?"

Blaine chuckled, because Kurt knew him well by now. "I promise I'm not. It's possible that you're just bored, Kurt."

"But it could be something else?" Kurt prompted.

"I guess, yeah," Blaine gave him a quick shrug. "Maybe you need a change in direction."

Kurt snorted.

"What?" Blaine said again, confused.

"Nothing, I was just imagining dinner with my husband every night if I don't write books for him anymore," Kurt said. "We would have nothing to talk about."

Blaine frowned. "Do you really think so?" He asked.

Kurt's eyes widened for a moment. "God, that sounded awful. I didn't mean that." He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "Things between Ian and I have been less than ideal, I guess, but that was just mean. I shouldn't have said so."

Blaine's face softened. Before he could consider what it would look like, he reached across the table and placed his hand on Kurt's, hoping to bring him some comfort. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He almost tore his hand away, half because of the new jolt of electricity (it was always there, it never stopped when they were together), half because Kurt glanced down at their hands like he hadn't expected the touch. But he didn't. For some reason, pulling away felt harder than reaching out.

Kurt seemed to be trying to choose his words carefully. "We've been sort of disconnected, I guess. All he wants to talk about is work, which I understand, in a way: he's really passionate about it, and they have a big event coming up. But after that big event is over, something else will come along, and sometimes it feels like I'm just sleeping with my boss…" He paused and then he added, a bit of snark slipping into his voice: "and not in the fun way."

Blaine couldn't hold back the chuckle. Kurt always made him laugh. "Have you tried talking to him about it?"

"God, yes," Kurt said. "So many times. I asked him to take time off, I asked him to go with me to Ohio to visit my family, I asked him to be home in time for dinner every night. Honestly, if I didn't know he's actually a workaholic, I'd think he's having an affair."

If he was hoping to get a laugh out of Blaine again, he was disappointed, because instead Blaine froze. It hit a little too close to home. He removed his hand and Kurt just stared at his now lonely hand like there was something fundamentally wrong with it.

Blaine cleared his throat. "It sucks that he hasn't changed anything, if you asked him to," he said as quickly as he could, as if trying to cover the awkwardness.

"Oh believe me, I've asked him plenty," Kurt said. He hesitated, like he wasn't sure whether he should ask Blaine if he was okay or not. "I don't want to become an annoying husband who goes on and on and on about the same thing all the time, but sometimes I don't think he even sees what the problem is."

"Maybe he's just too wrapped up in his own head to see what you mean," Blaine suggested. "Maybe you should try a different approach, give him the chance to really see what's bothering you."

Kurt arched an eyebrow playfully at him. "Are you taking his side?"

"Should there be sides in a marriage?" Blaine asked, and that made Kurt stop, the playfulness leaving him at once. "Sorry, I think that came out wrong."

Kurt let himself back against his seat, like all his energy was gone. "No, you're right. There really shouldn't be sides. I shouldn't even think there are." He looked at Blaine pensively for a moment, before he asked: "Jack has a demanding job, too. Probably a lot more demanding than Ian's, even if he wouldn't agree. Do you have this problem too? I mean, you two have kids, and he needs to be there for them, too."

"Oh, he's there for them. He's a good father," Blaine said vaguely. The problem in their marriage wasn't Jack's job, but the fact that he was fucking someone else on the side. He didn't tell Kurt that, though. He was embarrassed. He didn't want him to know. "We have our issues, just… not that, I guess."

Kurt broke another piece of the cookie and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Nothing's ever perfect, huh?"

Blaine smiled sadly at him, and didn't say what he was thinking: This kind of feels like it is.

And you feel like a fool

We both just play along

The mac and cheese was sticking to the bottom of the pan, and it was just another thing in a long list of things that had been wrong that day. Blaine's alarm had failed to wake him up in the morning, and he'd had to rush out of bed, and get the kids ready for school in record time. Both Lena and Theo had been in a terrible mood, having been woken up so abruptly. He made them eat breakfast in the cab, and the driver glared at them through the rearview mirror during the whole drive, asking if they were leaving crumbs all over the seat.

Work hadn't been much better. It was like everyone was determined to make Blaine's day a little worse by the minute. It all ended with one of his students getting sick and throwing up all over him, which meant he had to go straight home at the end of the day and cancel on Kurt, who he was supposed to be meeting for a walk in the park.

Jack had picked the kids up from school, dropped them at home with Blaine, and gone out again, claiming he had forgotten something in his office, and Blaine had been right on the edge of screaming at him to stop being such an awful liar.

In his rush to leave in the morning, he had forgotten to take the chicken out of the freezer, so now they were stuck eating mac and cheese, the kind Jack hated because he said it was too artificial and unhealthy.

"Are you going to make my Halloween costume?"

Blaine, too focused on trying to salvage their mediocre dinner, was too distracted to understand what his daughter was asking. "What?"

"My Halloween costume," Lena replied slowly, like she thought her father was a little dumb. "We have to dress up for school. Most kids are getting two different costumes, but I just want to go as Belle. I can wear it to school and then to go trick or treating."

Blaine blinked at the pan for a moment. "Halloween? Isn't that this Friday?"

"Yes!" Lena jumped up and down excitedly.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, and then immediately covered it up with a cough. "Sorry, baby, I forgot. I'll see if we can find Belle's costume. But it's a little last minute, so they might be sold out by now…"

Lena's enthusiasm died like a little flame someone threw a bucket of water on. "But I want to be Belle."

Blaine put the spoon down and let the macaroni to keep sticking to the pan for a moment. He knelt down in front of his daughter. "I know you want to be Belle, and I'll do everything I can to get you that costume. But can you think of another option, in case I can't find it?"

Lena's big eyes filled with tears. Her curls were a mess on top of her head, and it was unfair how adorable she looked when she was upset, because it made Blaine want to burn down the whole world just to give her what she wanted. "Why can't you make it yourself? Most of my friends' moms are making them. Why don't I have a mom to make me costumes?"

And this was just a very sharp slap after the day he'd had. After how hard these past few weeks had been.

Blaine and Jack had talked to Lena about why she didn't have a mom. She had understood and had never looked upset about the fact that she had two dads instead. She wasn't even the only kid in her class with same sex parents.

But she was clearly upset now, and it was just another thing piling up on Blaine's shoulders.

"Because you have two dads who love you more than anything," Blaine replied, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "And I promise I'll do everything I can to get you that costume, alright? Don't be sad, sweetheart."

"Really?" Lena asked, and those big eyes again… god, it killed him.

"Yes," Blaine said and smiled for her. "Why don't you go play with your brother while I finish up with dinner?"

"Okay!" She said, and skipped out of the kitchen, all happy again because her dad had made her a promise.

As he tried to fix the mess in the pan, he started searching online for her costume. But it wasn't available anywhere – everything was sold out so close to Halloween.

"What's that smell?" Jack asked as he walked in. Blaine had been so distracted that he hadn't heard the front door and his husband coming back. "Is something burning?"

Blaine dropped both the spoon and his phone on the counter a little more forcefully than necessary. "Lena wants to be Belle for Halloween."

Jack smiled. "She'll look really cute."

"I know she'll look really cute," Blaine said, annoyed. "That was never the question. But it's very last minute and all the Belle costumes are sold out."

Jack shrugged as he came closer to inspect the pan. "So let's get her something different, then. She can be Belle some other time. Is that mac and cheese?"

"She doesn't want something different." Blaine ran a hand through his hair. He had showered after getting home, and his curls were still a little damp.

"She needs to learn that she can't always get her way," Jack said and poked the mass of mac and cheese with the wooden spoon. It looked like a bright orange brain.

Something bubbled inside of Blaine. He was so tired and jaded and sick of carrying everything on his shoulders. "Where the hell did you go?"

Jack startled and at least had the decency to look like a deer caught in the headlights. He spluttered wordlessly for a couple of seconds, clearly not ready to have an alibi, and then said: "I told you. I left something at the office and I had to go get it."

"Right," Blaine said. Right now he didn't care about playing a fool, about Jack not knowing he knew. How much more could he take? He was exhausted. "You left something at the office."

They stared at each other, and he could see the slight panic in Jack's eyes, like he was wondering if his cover was blown. But he didn't say anything, he didn't admit to anything, he kept quiet and waited, as if to see what Blaine would do.

Blaine turned back to the stove abruptly and killed the flame. He threw the mess of mac and cheese in the garbage. "Order a fucking pizza," he said, and walked out of the kitchen before he did something he regretted.

When Kurt suggested that Blaine should join his gym, it had seemed like the best idea in the world. Working out alone was boring, and now Kurt had an incentive to want to go more regularly instead of paying for a membership and forcing himself into going out of guilt whenever he spent too long sitting at the computer and snacking as he worked.

But now he was sort of regretting it, because there was something incredibly distracting about the droplet of sweat that had begun making its way down the column of Blaine's neck.

"I just don't want to disappoint her, you know?" Blaine was saying, and right, Blaine was talking about his daughter. Kurt forced himself to pay attention and stop staring at his neck like a pervert. "I know she needs to learn that sometimes you can't always get everything you want, but it was… it was the way she asked for it, you know? I think I'd feel like the worst dad in the world not getting it for her."

"And you've tried everywhere?" Kurt asked.

"I've walked this city twice looking for it," Blaine groaned, and it wasn't out of the effort he was making in the treadmill, but out of frustration, clearly. "I can't find it. And it's not just that it's nowhere to be found. It's that she said all her friends' moms make their children's costumes, and here I am feeling like a failure because I don't do that…"

"Blaine, there's nothing wrong with buying the costume. It takes a lot of time to make one from scratch, even if you do have the skills," Kurt said as soothingly as he could.

"It's so unlike her to ask for something like this," Blaine said miserably. "I wonder if she can tell something's wrong and this is her way of reacting to it…"

Kurt frowned and paused the treadmill he was on so he could turn and look at Blaine directly. "What do you mean, something's wrong?"

"I…" Blaine said, nervously. "Nothing. It's just an expression."

But it wasn't an expression. No one said something was wrong unless it was true. Still, Kurt didn't want to push. "Well, I have a sewing machine. I could make the costume for her."

Blaine's eyes widened almost comically. "What?"

"It's been gathering dust in my closet for a few years now," Kurt shrugged. "It would be no problem. We would just need to get the right fabric and you need to give me her measurements."

"Kurt, I couldn't possibly ask you…" Blaine started to say.

"You're not asking, I'm offering," Kurt said. "Really, I don't mind."

"I didn't know you could sew," Blaine muttered.

Kurt restarted the treadmill and went back to running. "Oh yeah. I was going to major in fashion in college. Either that or musical theatre."

"Really? And why didn't you?" Blaine asked, clearly interested.

"Well, Ian appeared with a publishing contract and sort of changed all my plans," Kurt explained. "But I mean it, Blaine. Let me help you with Lena's costume."

Blaine looked troubled, like he was tempted to accept his help but didn't want to bother him. "It's really short notice, Kurt…"

"So? We can go now and buy the fabric, and all you'd have to do is take her measurements as soon as you get home and text them to me," Kurt said. He was actually getting excited about this project. It made him more excited than sitting in front of the computer for another day to try and fail to write.

The relief in Blaine's face was almost painful. "Thank you. You're my hero."

"It's nothing. And what about Theo? We can make something for him, too," Kurt offered.

"Theo has a Spiderman costume that my brother got him for his birthday and he refuses to wear anything else. Sometimes he wears it to daycare or the grocery store. It's really funny," Blaine said and, as usual, his whole face lit up beautifully when he talked about his kids.

"That's so adorable," Kurt said.

They finished working out, took a quick shower and met at the gym's lobby to go buy the fabric. Kurt had fun going through all the options, trying to find the right one. He hadn't sewn anything in years, but maybe he should pick it up again, at least for himself. Maybe it would be the perfect creative outlet when he was frustrated with his work.

"Kurt, I…" Blaine stopped him once they had everything. They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, New Yorkers walking around them and casting annoyed looks at them for not moving with the crowd. "I don't know how to thank you, really. You've just taken a huge load off my shoulders."

"It's nothing," Kurt said, and he knew he was blushing. Blaine's gratefulness was so genuine and warm. "I want to help you."

Blaine hesitated for a moment and then simply moved forward, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in for a hug. It lasted a little longer than the hugs they usually greeted each other with, and it almost seemed like Blaine was going to hide his face in the crook of Kurt's neck. It felt nice, to be held like this, to feel the solid weight of Blaine against him.

"You'll have to pay for it, though," Kurt said seriously, and regretted it immediately because Blaine pulled away to look at him.

"Of course!" He babbled, embarrassed. "Just name your price, I…"

"You'll have to pay me in pictures," Kurt added cheekily. "I want as many Halloween pictures of the kids in their costumes as you can. And I will consider it a bonus if you're dressed up, too."

Blaine laughed. "You want to see me make a fool out of myself?"

"Always," Kurt said, only so Blaine would laugh again.

What did it say about him, that it was quickly becoming his favorite sound in the world?

And you feel like a fool

We both just play along

Kurt didn't think he would ever be able to forget the look on Blaine's face when, on Thursday evening, they met at their usual coffee shop so he could give him the costume for Lena. It had really been a big task for such short notice, but Kurt was proud of the work he had done, and staying up late the past couple of nights to pull it off was totally worth it.

"Kurt, you are… this is incredible," Blaine said, delighted, as he looked at the result of too many cups of coffee and a bit of frustration. But despite having found a few challenges in the way, mostly because he felt a little rusty when it came to sewing – and god, he really needed to pick it up again; he had always loved it so much, why had he given it up so easily? – Kurt would do it all over again, just for the pleasure it caused him to see Blaine this happy.

Sometimes he got the feeling Blaine didn't have that many moments of happiness.

"You're so talented," Blaine gushed, as he inspected every inch of the dress in awe. "Seriously, I can't believe you made this so quickly. And it's perfect, Kurt. There's not a single flaw in it. It looks even better than if I'd gotten it at the Disney Store."

Kurt rolled his eyes, overwhelmed by the praise. "Just stop it. And don't forget about the pictures."

On Friday night, Halloween, Kurt attended Mercedes' Halloween party. Brittany and Santana were the ones who usually threw all the parties, but with Santana's pregnancy, they were a little subdued and this time they seemed not to be in the mood to host any sort of soiree. In fact, they cancelled at the very last minute and said they preferred staying home with Daisy instead, after taking her trick or treating. Rachel cancelled too, choosing to spend the evening with her son, and so Kurt found himself surrounded mostly by his single or childless friends.

"You've been staring at your phone non-stop since you arrived," Mercedes said as she let herself fall on the couch next to him. She was dressed as Cleopatra and she could pull it off to perfection. "If we were back in high school, I'd say you have a crush on a boy, but your husband is all the way across the room from you."

Kurt followed her line of sight. Ian, surprisingly, had dropped work for the night to come to this party with Kurt, which Kurt actually appreciated – or he would, if it didn't feel like too little too late. He was chatting amicably with some of Mercedes' neighbors, nursing a drink. They had skipped the Halloween costumes this year – Kurt hadn't had time to make theirs and make Lena's, so he prioritized hers. Ian had suggested wearing suits and sunglasses and pretend they were Men in Black, but Kurt just hadn't felt like playing along.

He checked his phone again.

"I'm just waiting to hear from a friend," Kurt explained vaguely. "I made his kid's Halloween costume and he promised to send me pics."

"And what friend is this that I don't know about?" Mercedes asked, eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"His name is Blaine," Kurt said. "I was a guest in his elementary school class, and we kind of hit it off, so we became friends." It was a very, very abbreviated version of the facts, but Kurt didn't feel like giving her the unabridged one.

"It's funny you haven't mentioned him, if you two are close enough for you to be making costumes for his kid, after how long it's been since you made a single item of clothing…" Mercedes commented suspiciously.

"Well, I haven't seen you in months, you've been so busy with your tour," Kurt said, hoping that would be an effective way to deviate the attention, although he wasn't sure why he didn't want to tell her more about Blaine. "It's a miracle you were in town this weekend for this, otherwise I would have forgotten what your face looks like. Where are you going to next?"

Mercedes was successfully distracted. He listened to her go on and on excitedly about the next few concerts she had scheduled, until she was called to the kitchen because they couldn't find where she had put the beers. Kurt was then alone. Ian was still all the way across the room, chatting and laughing without a care in the world.

His phone vibrated.

Eagerly, he opened Blaine's message and found exactly what he had been looking forward to all day: a beautiful picture of Blaine's children, Theo in his Spiderman costume that was a little too big on him, and Lena looking absolutely stunning in her Belle dress. She looked like she had just stepped out of the movie, a perfect mini version of the princess. Blaine was kneeling between them, one arm around each of them, wearing an entirely black outfit with a cape and plastic sword. It took a few seconds to identify what he was dressed at, until he realized he was Zorro. The hat gave him away.

Kurt smiled so big his face hurt. And his chest hurt a bit, too, because his heart suddenly felt too big to fit in it. It beat itself bigger and bigger, harder and harder, until he felt like he couldn't breathe…

"What's that?"

Kurt startled and almost dropped his phone. Ian had sat down next to him and was looking at the screen over his shoulder.

Kurt cleared his throat, feeling like even his voice was about to fail him. "That's my friend, Blaine," he said, and he didn't like that he had shared him twice in a single night, but wasn't it weird, that he didn't want to tell his own husband? "I helped him with his daughter's costume. Doesn't she look gorgeous?"

Ian leaned in closer to take a look, and Kurt waited with bated breath for what he was about to say next. "So that was what you were sewing these past few days? It's really good, Kurt," he said. "I don't think you've mentioned this guy before, though."

"Who, Blaine?" He said nonchalantly. "Oh, he's a friend from the gym." He had no idea how the lie came so easily and so suddenly to his lips. "I get bored on the treadmill, so I chat with whoever's next to me. He's cool."

Ian took a sip from his beer and nodded. "It's nice that you helped him. Hey, do you want me to get you a drink?"

"Sure," Kurt smiled at him, and watched him get up and go fetch him something. He used that moment by himself to look at the picture and this time he read the message Blaine had sent underneath: Thank you. She's over the moon.

He typed a response quickly before Ian came back.

[From Kurt]: I'm so glad she liked it. Theo and you look great, too. Thank you for sending the picture.

Blaine's response came just as he saw Ian walking back to him from the kitchen.

[From Blaine]: Wish you were here to see it in person.

His chest ached. He wished he was there, too.

He stood up before Ian had reached him, and intercepted him halfway. He grabbed his free hand and pulled him towards the area of the living room where everyone was dancing.

Dancing meant you didn't have to think, and tonight Kurt needed to stop thinking at once.

And you feel like a fool

We both just play along

The soonest they could meet again was Monday. Blaine's phone was filled with a million pictures from Friday night that he couldn't wait to show Kurt. He had been so excited that morning, when he left for work, that he had forgotten to grab an umbrella despite the sky having an apocalyptic grey hue. But so far the rain had stayed at bay and given them a chance to get through the first day of the week.

Blaine arrived at the coffee shop and Kurt was already there, just as he always was. He was coming to depend on Kurt being there, whatever that meant. He opened the door, the smell of coffee enveloped him and Kurt's blue eyes and smile welcomed him, and whatever stress Blaine had been carrying around all day seemed to vanish. It was like magic.

Blaine hugged him a little tighter than he usually did – his daughter's happy laughter was still ringing in his ears. He was so grateful for what Kurt had done for them. When he pulled away, he noticed that there were already two cups of coffee on the table.

"You got my coffee? I wanted to treat you, as a thank you," he said.

"Well, I can always drink another one, you know," Kurt said with a little smile.

"Then that one is on me," Blaine replied.

"Stop stalling and tell me everything," Kurt said eagerly, and Blaine laughed.

"I got so many videos to show you…" Blaine forgo his usual seat across the table and dropped down on the chair next to Kurt, so they could both look at his phone at the same time.

Heads practically glued together, Kurt cooed and giggled for every picture and video Blaine showed him of Lena and Theo.

"God, Blaine, they're so precious," he said, and the sincerity in his voice told Blaine that he wasn't saying it just to be nice – he truly thought so. "You have the most beautiful family."

"Thank you. I…" He skipped to the next picture as he spoke and the screen suddenly displayed the only picture of the four of them that Blaine had taken all night.

"Oh, that's… that's your husband?" Kurt asked, curiously.

"Yes, that's Jack," Blaine said.

"Did he have to work?" Kurt wanted to know.

"No. That was his costume…" Blaine sighed. This was the kind of thing they argued about every single year. But Jack had never been into costumes, had never liked making a fool out of himself. When Kurt turned to look at him, confused, Blaine added: "He's a surgeon, but he says he was dressed as a regular doctor. So… yeah, that's his excuse."

Kurt snorted. "I see. Well, he's… he's really handsome."

"Yeah, he is," Blaine said. He wasn't sure why he felt so awkward talking to Kurt about Jack, like the two of them couldn't coexist in the same universe. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, put the phone down on the table, screen facing down, picture effectively hidden. "So what did you do for Halloween?"

If it was obvious that he didn't feel like talking about his husband, Kurt was decent enough not to point it out or ask him if there was anything wrong. He only glanced at Blaine with a glint of doubt in his eyes, but it was gone within a second, replaced by that gorgeous smile of his that was the perfect distraction.

"I'm afraid it wasn't as fun as yours. I didn't exactly dress up," Kurt said. "But some of my friends were a train wreck, so feast your eyes on this…"

He took his own phone out of his pocket, and for the next few minutes they were still glued together, thighs touching, foreheads brushing against each other, as Kurt showed him pictures of his friends.

Blaine wasn't about to admit it, but he was a little sad when they ran out of pictures to look at and he had no excuse to sit next to Kurt anymore. He moved to his usual seat across the table and ignored the sudden chill that ran through his body.

They had their coffee like they always did, the first cup, and then a second one, catching up on each other's day, feeling like the minutes together simply flew by. Something felt a little different today, though, and Blaine couldn't quite figure out what it was – was it just that he had really enjoyed being close to Kurt, feeling the warmth of his body alongside his own? Or was there something else?

It had been so long since his husband had touched him, he thought. That was all. He missed feeling another man's body close to his. He missed it so much that even sitting next to his friend had his heart pounding against his ribcage.

It was pathetic, really.

But the electricity… the electricity had been there between them since the moment they had first met…

Blaine shook his head discretely, trying to get rid of those thoughts. It wasn't going to do him any good, to think about it. He just had to shove it all down, down, down, like many other things he had been pretending not to think about these days.

He checked the time. "I have to go," he said. "I have to go pick up the kids."

Kurt looked saddened by this, but he hid it behind another smile. For a brief moment, Blaine wondered if there were things Kurt shoved down inside himself, as not to think about them either.

"Alright," Kurt said and glanced out the window. "It's pouring pretty badly out there. Did you bring an umbrella?"

Blaine sighed. "No, I didn't."

Kurt began to pack his things quickly. "I got mine. I'll walk you out."

"It's okay…" Blaine said at once, not wanting to bother him.

"Blaine, it's nothing. You'll get drenched in a second. I'll walk you out and stay with you while you wait for a cab, alright?" He insisted.

Blaine smiled at him. "Okay. Thanks, Kurt."

They stepped outside and Blaine was only relieved for the umbrella for about five seconds, before he realized he was once again impossibly close to Kurt, confined under the little shelter the umbrella provided. Around them, hurried New Yorkers tried to get home without getting soaked and cabs drove by, already with passengers sitting in the back seat. Blaine tried no to avail to stop one. The sky, dark grey, was suddenly cut in two by a lightning bolt. The roar of the thunder that followed startled Blaine, and he almost slipped in the wet sidewalk. To catch him, Kurt quickly wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping him upright, and their chests were suddenly pressed together.

It was as if the thunder travelled across Blaine's body, from his hair down to his toes, the electricity so strong he felt like he was about to vibrate out of his own skin. He made the mistake of looking up. Kurt was already looking down at him, his face so close that he was almost blurry. But the startling blue of his eyes, brighter than ever, was stark and crystal clear, as well as his lips, slightly parted. Blaine could feel Kurt's chest rising and falling, picking up pace, like he was suddenly having trouble breathing.

The world around them disappeared. Time slowed, seconds dragging by. Blaine's heartbeat was loud, pounding in his own ears. His hand had somehow ended up pressed to Kurt's chest – was that his heart, beating just as hard against his fingertips? Blaine's fingers flexed out of their volition, like they were trying to hold on.

Something seemed to break in Kurt's eyes, like stepping on a branch and hearing it snap in two. Before Blaine could even process what was happening, Kurt's hand was cupping his face, tilting his head up, and then his lips were on his.

If Blaine thought what he had felt before was electricity, then nothing could have prepared him for what he felt now. It was overpowering and humbling, the force of it, just as unstoppable as the storm around them. He parted his lips and Kurt kissed him even deeper, extracting a soft little whimper from Blaine's mouth. His knees buckled, and he had to reach out and hold onto Kurt's shoulders. He could taste the coffee on his tongue as Kurt licked his bottom lip. He sucked it into his mouth hungrily, and this time it was Kurt who let out a sound, a whiny moan that went straight to Blaine's belly and below…

He felt alive. Every nerve ending in his body was singing as if it was awakening from a long slumber. His skin raised in goosebumps, his heart pounded, the fluttering in his stomach spoke of butterflies that had been dead for a long time and yet now…

Everything was alive.

The sound of a car coming to a sudden stop, skidding slightly on the wet pavement, and the horns from the vehicles behind it brought them back to reality. The kiss stopped, Kurt pulled away and looked around, his hand still on Blaine's cheek, as if this was just a pause, as if the kiss would resume as soon as he was done taking in his surroundings.

But now that the kiss was over, Blaine felt as if he had just been slapped. He stepped away, out of the protection of Kurt's umbrella, the rain instantly falling on him.

"Blaine?" Kurt murmured, confused.

Blaine put his hand out to stop a cab and was lucky enough to get one. Small, blissful mercies. "I've got to go," he said, and his voice sounded choked.

Kurt's face fell, and the spell was definitely broken now. "Wait. We should… we should talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Blaine said, and god, why was it so hard to breathe right now? There was a building pressure in his chest. "I have to go get my kids."

"Blaine…" Kurt said, taking a step towards him.

"I have to get my kids," Blaine repeated, like that was going to keep him sane, like that was going to center him. He felt dizzy. He opened the back door of the waiting cab. He paused for a second, just the slightest hesitation as he looked back at Kurt – he had dropped the umbrella like he couldn't hold it anymore, like he didn't even notice the rain. He was getting drenched. There was something tragically beautiful about it. A droplet made its way down Kurt's cheek like a tear drop, and then caught at his jaw. Blaine thought of kissing it away. And that's what made him say: "Goodbye, Kurt."

He got into the car. He was barely aware of giving the driver the address as he closed the door. The cab swerved into traffic and Blaine closed his eyes. He wasn't going to look back.

The electricity was gone. Everything that had felt alive inside of him was now numb. The only thing he could feel was the phantom press of Kurt's lips on his own.

He closed his eyes. He had to go get his kids.

That was the only thought that kept him in the car. It was the only thought that kept him from running back to Kurt.

Just one more stupid thing that I have done

So, uh. Yeah. That happened :D

See you next week!

L.-