Happy Wednesday, my darlings.

Once again, I'm nothing but grateful for all your comments in the last chapter. Thanks for the ongoing support.

Thanks to Christine, for being the best beta in the whole wide world. I love and appreciate you so much.

Thanks to the lovely Sofi, for all her help.

This chapter's song is I Need Your Love.

Enjoy!

I see your face like a vision of God
I shiver and shake, and I'm lost in the flood
Nothing else matters, the world disappears
I can't breathe, and I can't think until I taste your kiss

For the first time in what felt like… well, ever, really, they had time. They had precious time to be together, and the world vanished behind the closed hotel door.

Blaine didn't have to be home any time soon – the kids were with Jack, there were no errands, no one was expecting him – and Kurt… well, Kurt didn't seem too worried about whether or not his husband was going to be waiting for him in their apartment. The moment he saw Blaine walk into the room, his eyes had been fixed on him, that deep, beautiful blue that seemed to cast a spell on Blaine whenever he looked at him, and had wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight. They had stood like that for a while, just hugging, breathing each other in, placing tiny little kisses on each other's cheeks and temples and eyelashes and jaws.

There was time for tenderness. It felt like a small blessing.

Undressing was a slow occurrence, almost like it was an afterthought, because their mouths were glued together, the kisses deep and paused, as if it was the first time they got to explore each other like this. Kurt tasted like mint, fresh and intoxicating, and his tongue pushed into Blaine's mouth, tentative at first, as if it was asking for permission, before he seemed to get lost in it, taking everything Blaine had to give like he couldn't get enough of him.

Blaine touched him – slow caresses down his naked back, over the curve of his ass, down to his thighs, then back up again over his ribs, and his stomach and his chest. He tried to touch him everywhere, even in the little spots where he hadn't had time to press his fingers to before, like every inch of Kurt's skin was precious and worth paying attention to. Because it was. He was so gorgeous it hurt.

Kurt seemed to be feeling the same way, because he too traced the contours of Blaine's body, first with the tips of his fingers, eliciting shivers and goosebumps all over him, and then with his lips, kissing and sucking the spots that caused a stronger reaction in Blaine, drinking each of his little moans, cherishing him like he was the most valuable thing he had ever been allowed to touch.

He made his way down Blaine's body kiss by kiss, until he had Blaine's legs wrapped around his head, and his tongue was pushing past his entrance. Blaine groaned and buried his fingers on Kurt's perfect hair, making it a little more imperfect, asking for more without having to use a single word.

And Kurt gave it to him. He always gave it to him, exactly how he wanted it.

Kurt leisurely fucked him with his tongue until he was nothing but a writhing mess on the pillows, his cock twitching untouched on his stomach. Time lost all meaning – he could have been there for hours, just feeling the pleasure rolling through his body, allowing Kurt to have him, to devour him, to taste him.

"Kind of want to make you come just from this," Kurt murmured as he pulled off to breathe, lips cherry pink, cheeks flushed, eyes dark.

Blaine whined. His hips moved up out of their own volition, seeking the heat of Kurt's mouth once again. "Don't be mean…"

Kurt pressed a kiss to the curve of Blaine's cock. He smiled. "I won't be mean. I'll be so good to you, Blaine…" and then he swallowed him down.

Blaine threw his head back and moaned.

Give me some signal, say that you understand
The meanest of scraps baby dropped from your hand
This hunger I feel is sure to be satisfied
I know nothing else is gonna ease this ache inside

Just as slowly as they had done everything else today, Kurt held himself at Blaine's entrance and pushed inside, inch by inch, focusing on the way Blaine's breath hitched. Then he stopped and allowed himself to look down at him, to feel his heartbeat drumming against his own chest, to count each of his dark eyelashes, so impossibly long and beautiful. He allowed himself to watch how Blaine's lips parted around a silent moan, how his tongue poked out to lick at his lower lip, how he opened his eyes like it took enormous effort, eyelids heavy, pupils blown.

He was so gorgeous it hurt.

He took his time to pull off, until only the head of his cock was still enveloped in the silky heat of Blaine's body, and then pushed back in, slow, slow, slow, even though he was burning with the need to go fast and hard.

He so rarely had the opportunity to take his time with Blaine, to enjoy this, the drawn-out pleasure and the measured climb to their climax.

"Like this?" He asked, because even though he wanted this to last as long as possible, he always, always, always wanted to give Blaine what he needed.

Blaine wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. He kissed him, wet and open-mouthed. "Yes, just like this," he whispered.

Kurt trailed a few kisses down Blaine's jaw as he kept the rhythm of his hips as steady as possible. "I love fucking you," he said into his ear, and he felt Blaine's shiver all over him. "I think it might be my favorite thing to do."

Blaine grinned at him. "Might be in the top three for me, too," he said.

"What are the other two?" Kurt asked, amused.

"Well, you do some pretty amazing things with your tongue, as you just demonstrated earlier," Blaine said, cheekily, and Kurt laughed. But then his eyes softened a little. "Kissing you, too."

Kurt kissed him, just for the sake of it. "I think the first one qualifies as me fucking you, though."

"It deserves a spot all of its own," Blaine replied with a quirked eyebrow, and Kurt laughed again.

When had it been the last time he had laughed during sex? Kurt couldn't remember – and he didn't want to focus much on it at the moment, either.

He would much rather just think about Blaine, and feel Blaine, and kiss Blaine, and fuck Blaine some more.

There was a drop of sweat making its way down his neck and Blaine leaned in and licked it. Kurt caught his mouth in his and kissed him again. He was becoming addicted. He wanted him so much his insides ached with it, his lungs constricted as if devoid of air, his heart pounded in longing, even now, when he had him like this, all to himself.

All his.

And yet not at all.

Blaine lifted his legs to put them around Kurt's waist, heels digging at the base of his spine, urging him on, a little deeper, a little harder. "I'm close," he said in a choked voice. "You feel so good…"

Kurt could feel the orgasm building, pooling inside of him, ready to burst. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Blaine's, wound so tight it hurt. "Don't want to come yet. Want to keep going. Want to stay just like this."

Blaine's laughter was low and sexy and it morphed into another moan at the end. It seemed to go straight to Kurt's cock. "I don't think I can hold it, Kurt." He tilted his hips up, looking for another angle, and it brought Kurt even closer, which he hadn't thought was possible. "Oh, god. God, god, Kurt. Yes. Yes, fuck me, baby."

Kurt whined, coming undone. How could he resist him, when he spoke like that, when he said all the right things, when he looked so sinful underneath him, as if he had been made to be fucked like this, as if he belonged right here, tight around Kurt's cock?

But it was so much more than just the physical gratification, although there was plenty of it. Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes, he kissed his lips, he put his hands on him and felt complete.

Maybe it was because they had taken their time, maybe it was because they hadn't exactly been thinking about their orgasms, but about enjoying this moment together, but they both came harder than they had since they had started sleeping together. It almost caught them by surprise, the pace growing faster at the end, their hips moving in unison, Blaine meeting each of Kurt's thrusts, the sounds of skin hitting on skin echoing in the room.

Complete, complete, complete.

As they were coming down from their high, Blaine gently pushed him on his back and half-climbed on top of him, peppering kisses all over Kurt's face, over his shoulders, on the center of his chest. Then he sighed, a contented peaceful sound, and collapsed with his head right on Kurt's heartbeat.

Which was going like a million miles a minute and it only had a little to do with the mind-blowing orgasm he'd just had.

Kurt played with his hair (his curls were absolutely insane right now and Kurt loved it), smiling up at the ceiling and feeling like, just for a little while, the world was the most wonderful place.

When he regained the ability to speak, Blaine rested his chin on his joined hands on Kurt's chest and looked up at him, stealing a bit of Kurt's breath – it was just unfair that he was this handsome, really.

"Tell me something about your week," he said, and oh, okay, that was probably not the sweetest thing Blaine had said to him, but it still succeeded in making him melt like it was.

Kurt smiled and tugged on his curls softly. "Anything?"

"Whatever you want," Blaine said. "Whatever comes to mind."

"Well…" Kurt sighed and tried to will his brain to function normally again. It took a couple of minutes. "I bought a new book that I'm really enjoying. I took Petra to the vet for her check-up. I'm still blocked and have no idea what to write about or even if I want to. Oh, and my friend Rachel's kid learned how to say my name. She sent me a video of him with the Christmas present I got him and he says thank you, Uncle Kurt. It was so adorable…"

Blaine smiled the whole time Kurt was talking. "I bet it was," he said, then hesitated for a moment before he asked: "What do you mean you don't know if you want to?"

Kurt was confused for a second (it was so, so easy to get distracted when Blaine was pressed up against him, naked, looking yummy enough to lick everywhere…), but then he remembered what he had just said. "Oh, about work? Well, yeah. It's just… I don't know if I should be doing this at all…"

"Alright…" Blaine said carefully. "I know we've talked about this before, so it must be getting serious. Are you really saying you don't want to write anymore? Or is it that you are just frustrated right now?"

Kurt let the hand he had on the back of Blaine's hand trail down his back to the curve of his ass and back up again. "I don't know. I'm not really letting myself answer that question."

Blaine frowned. "Why not?"

Because I'm pretty sure it's the only thing that my husband and I have in common anymore, Kurt thought, but didn't say. He wasn't sure it was okay to say that to Blaine. And he didn't feel like thinking about that specific reason right now either. "Because I'm afraid of having to start over," he said, and though it felt daunting to say that out loud as well, he wanted to be honest with Blaine, too.

Blaine smiled sadly at him and cupped his cheek, sweetly. "Kurt Hummel, I'm pretty sure there's nothing in this world you can't do. So if you're not happy with this… just go find something that will make you as happy as you deserve."

Kurt tightened his arms around him and felt a little choked up, and a little speechless.

He kissed him instead. That always seemed to be the best answer.

Blaine kept smiling into it, like he couldn't help himself. He looked a little dazed when they finally pulled away. "You know, I'm quite tempted to go for round two, but… I kind of miss just going out for coffee with you. What do you say we go to that coffee house down the street? We can talk some more about this."

Kurt's heart thumped, thumped, thumped.

He wanted to say: I want round two, and I want round three, and I want every round you have in you, today, tomorrow, and forever.

He wanted to say: I miss going out for coffee, too. And I miss getting to just sit down and talk to you for hours and hours and hours. But even if we could spend a whole week together, no interruptions, no problems at all, it wouldn't be enough, because I always want more with you, in and out of bed.

He wanted to say: I don't know if you're the right person to talk to about this, because I'm pretty sure you're the one who made me see I want much more out of life than what I got.

He wanted to say: No, let's just never leave this hotel room. We can be happy here, as long as we have each other.

But instead, he brushed Blaine's curls back, away from his forehead, and smiled at him: "Let's go."

And what he wanted to say the most, though, he didn't even dare think it to himself: what am I going to do when these stolen moments aren't enough anymore?

I need your love
I need your love, I need your love, I need your love
Can't give it up
I need your love

The changes were gradual.

First, Jack's mood was sour, like a rain cloud was constantly hanging over his head. He was frowning constantly, distracted. Blaine didn't pay much attention to it: they almost never interacted lately, not unless it was necessary. They were acting more like cordial roommates than husbands.

But then Jack began to be around more – he no longer left for random appointments, no longer wanted to play tennis with his friends. He was at the apartment whenever he wasn't at work, playing with the kids and cooking dinner and sitting in the living room staring blankly at the television.

It was unnerving, really.

Coming up with excuses to go out and see Kurt became more and more difficult, and that didn't help with Blaine's mood. He missed him, wanted to see him, wanted to kiss him. Kurt had been sort of off lately, although he always smiled when he was with Blaine, he always looked happy with him, but Blaine was beginning to think the rest of his life wasn't going so well. He got really pensive sometimes, like he was a million miles away. And Blaine wanted to be there for him, wanted to talk to him, wanted to help him in any way he could…

It just wasn't easy to find time to do that when his husband was suddenly everywhere, all the time.

And then one Saturday morning Blaine was making breakfast for the kids when Jack walked into the living room, already in his work clothes. He grabbed a piece of toast and bit into it – he was running late for a surgery he had scheduled that day – and then… stood next to Blaine and placed a hand on the small of his back.

"So, I was thinking…" he said, and Blaine glanced at him curiously. "Remember when we first got together and you used to come to the hospital to have lunch with me? Why… why don't we do that again?"

Blaine blinked stupidly, as if Jack had just told him to walk all the way to California, or something as equally improbable. "What… what about the kids?" He asked, because it was the only possible response he could think of.

Jack shrugged, like that didn't concern him. "Call Cooper, ask him if he can have them for an hour or two. Or call the babysitter."

Blaine kept watching him. He would have been less surprised if Jack had grown an extra head overnight. "You want me to come have lunch with you," he said. Maybe if he said it out loud, it would make more sense.

It shouldn't have been so odd, should it, that his husband wanted to have lunch with him?

Jack nudged him with his shoulder, almost playfully. "Come on. It'll be like when we were young. We can make out on my desk a bit, too."

Blaine blinked again. Was this Jack trying? Was his affair with Eddie over? Maybe that would explain his mood the past few days. Maybe he wanted to build things back up with Blaine. Maybe he had finally gotten bored of going behind his back…

"Okay," he said, mostly because he couldn't think of good reason to say no.

Maybe this was the way to fix their marriage.

Maybe this would keep their family afloat.

If Jack wanted to try, then Blaine had to try, too.

They owed it to their kids.

Blaine actually hadn't been in Jack's office before, at least not since his last promotion, where they had given him the one he occupied now, on the seventh floor. It didn't have the most impressive view, but it was still nice. He smiled at the pictures he had on his desk – Lena's and Theo's smiling faces. There was even one of the four of them, from a couple summers ago, Theo nothing but a bundle in their arms, when they had rented that house by the beach.

It had been a happy summer, before everything began to fall apart.

The door opened and Jack walked back in, so handsome in his white robe. "Sorry about that. They just needed me to sign a report."

"It's fine," Blaine replied, and he shifted awkwardly. It was weird, wasn't it? And it shouldn't have been. They had been together for so, so long… nothing should have felt more comfortable than this, and yet…

He busied himself spreading the food on Jack's desk. He had stopped at his husband's favorite deli on the way and bought a few things. He knew Jack was sick of the cafeteria food, so he thought he'd appreciate the gesture.

Jack smiled. "You're the best," he said. It seemed that Blaine had been right, then.

He tried to smile back, but he felt like a fish out of water at the moment. He sat down across from him and picked up a sandwich. "So how was the surgery?"

They talked about work for a while, which seemed to be the easiest thing, and then about the kids, which was even easier and safer. Blaine remembered what these lunches had been about, years ago: planning their future together and finding reasons to see each other before they lived together, before they got married, before they became fathers. Everything was so bright and so new, and the world had been full of possibilities, but all of them were about staying together, about being happy, about loving each other.

Blaine had never imagined, back then, that they would have been capable of doing what they were doing now, of going behind each other's backs. It was something that sat so heavily inside of him, a guilt so bitter that he couldn't get rid of it.

And at the same time, as guilty as he felt right now, he couldn't imagine not wanting Kurt, not acting on that urge he felt whenever he saw him.

He had never felt this torn.

"This is nice," Jack commented, sitting back and looking at him. He sounded a bit surprised at that, as if he had expected to have an awful time with his own husband.

Blaine quirked an eyebrow at him. "Don't sound so shocked."

Jack laughed. "Sorry. I know. It's just…" He began to play with his pen, as if he needed to do something with his hands, something else to focus on besides Blaine. "We haven't exactly been on the same frequency lately."

Blaine almost said whose fault is that? But then he stopped himself right on time. Maybe it wasn't all on Jack, the way everything had begun to crumble. He had let himself get distracted, too. It wasn't hard when the kids demanded his attention, or when work became too much, or when chores seemed to take over whatever little time off he had left after all of that.

"Marriage isn't exactly what we pictured it would be, is it?" He said instead, and regretted immediately. It seemed like such a heavy comment to make, even if it was definitely true.

But he was scared it would open the doors to a much more difficult conversation.

One he wasn't ready to have.

One he was never going to have.

Jack chuckled, but it was a tired kind of chuckle. "It's not." He paused and looked at Blaine, and this might be the first time in months they actually looked at each other like this, without any sort of veil between them. "We really thought it was going to be a fairy tale, but… it's hard work."

Blaine nodded. He wanted to ask Jack if he regretted anything, but he didn't dare. What if the answer was yes? What if he was the thing Jack regretted the most? What if he regretted having kids? But no. If there was one thing Blaine was absolutely sure of, it was that Theo and Lena were what Jack loved the most.

They still had that in common.

"Do you…" Blaine cleared his throat. He tried to talk himself out of asking this question. What if he didn't like the answer? But he couldn't. "Do you still want to put in the effort to make sure it works out?"

The air in the office suddenly seemed to become heavier, dense, tangible. Blaine didn't realize he was holding his breath.

Jack's face was inscrutable for a moment, and then he laughed, but as much as he tried to hide it, it was forced. "Of course," he said. "Of course I do."

Blaine tried to smile. He tried to look like he believed it.

He didn't.

"I should go," he said awkwardly, standing up. "I told Cooper I would only be gone for a couple of hours. He and Brianna had plans later, so…"

"Oh sure," Jack stood up, too, and went with him towards the door. "I'll see you tonight at home. Want me to pick something up for dinner on my way there?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice," Blaine said vaguely.

Jack hesitated and then came closer, wrapping one arm around his waist and cupping his cheek with his other hand. He pressed a rather chaste kiss to Blaine's lips, but it was more, so much more, than they had shared in months. "See you tonight."

The smile still wouldn't come to his lips, but he tried. God, did he try. "See you tonight."

Neither of them said I love you. They hadn't said it in a very, very long time.

Santana burst into the restaurant and didn't even look around to find Kurt – she simply pushed past everyone who stood on her way until she found the hallway that lead to the restrooms. Kurt, from his table, snickered to himself. People around her had parted like the Red Sea. She looked pissed as hell, so it was a smart move.

She returned a few minutes later. Her belly was round and prominent and her dark coat barely closed around it. She was still walking on heels and wearing a very tight dress. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, like she had spent all her energy getting dressed and had none left to even comb her hair.

"If you tell me I look like shit," she said as she sat down, "I will pull on your testicles so hard you'll wish you'd never been born."

Kurt lifted his hands in front of himself, defensively. "When have I ever told you something that mean?"

She arched her eyebrow menacingly. "I know you're thinking it."

He decided changing the subject. "How are you feeling, Santana? Brittany told me you only have one last check-up before your due date."

She grabbed the menu the waitress had dropped when Kurt had arrived and started going through it. "I'm fine, just exhausted and ready for this kid to pop out. I feel like I don't even own my body. I get up in the middle of the night to pee like six or seven times and when I finally get comfortable to sleep again, he starts to kick like he wants to play soccer with all my fucking internal organs…"

"That sounds rough," Kurt said sympathetically. "But you only have a few more weeks to go…"

"Yeah," Santana sighed. "I'm excited about meeting my son, but I feel a little worn out right now, because I know it's not going to get any easier, and I'm just going to be so tired all the time…"

Kurt was tempted to reach across the table to pat her hand, but he was afraid she would punch him in the face for it. She wasn't a fan of tenderness – unless it came from her wife. "Brittany will be there to help you, just like you were there for her when Daisy was born. You're the most determined, badass person I know, Santana. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

To his surprise, she began to cry. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Oh shit," he said, unsure what to do. "Are you…"

"I'm fine," she said wiping her tears away. "I can't help it. Fucking mood swings." She shook her head and then snapped her fingers at a passing waitress. "What the hell does a pregnant woman have to do to get some service around here?"

Kurt apologized to the waitress a million times and made a mental note to leave her a generous tip. They ordered their food and by the time they were alone again, Santana had calmed down significantly.

"So, what's new with you?" She asked. "Please distract me. Tell me something interesting."

Kurt was going to tell her about his time in Ohio for the holidays, about the phone call he'd had from Rachel the day before freaking out because she wanted to go back to work but she wasn't sure she could leave Camden, about his lack of motivation for work…

"I'm having an affair," he said instead, shocking even himself.

Santana blinked at him like she was having trouble processing his words. She let herself fall back against the chair and gaped at him for a couple of seconds. "Holy fuck, Kurt."

He covered his face with his hands. "Shit, shit, I didn't mean to say that. I don't…" He paused, half mortified, half desperate. "There's no way you can forget I said that, isn't there?"

"What do you think?" Santana exclaimed, and she pressed her elbows against the table to be able to lean closer to him. "Kurt, what the hell?"

Kurt wanted to change the subject. He wanted to pretend Santana had just arrived and start their conversation all over again. He wanted to tell her it was just a joke.

But most of all, he realized, he wanted to talk about it. Because he hadn't talked about it with absolutely anyone, and it was eating him up inside.

"Can you…" He started to say, and then looked up at Santana, pleadingly, from between his fingers. "Can you try not to judge me too hard? I really need to tell someone about it, and I don't want to feel like nothing but crap afterwards."

"Well, I can't make any promises," she said, as sharply as ever, but there was something like compassion in her dark eyes. "What's going on, Kurt?"

So he told her, the words spilling from him like the dam that had held them back was now broken. He told her everything: his discontent with his own life, with his own marriage, and how Blaine had appeared like he had dreamed him – perfect and sweet and a little miserable, just like he felt. He told her about trying to keep things innocent between them and how that hadn't worked out, how they wanted each other, how they couldn't stop what they felt. He told her about meeting him in that hotel room a couple of times a week, and about how complete he felt when they were together. He told her about Blaine's children, about the emptiness he felt inside for not being part of something like it. He told her about arriving at his apartment every day, Ian most likely still at the office, only Petra meowing for his attention, and feeling so alone that he wasn't sure what to do with himself.

He told her about the guilt that pooled inside him like poison, and how he had to push it down, down, down until he could breathe, because he couldn't figure out what to do to fix this yet, not without losing something – or maybe even everything.

Santana's food was mostly untouched by the time he was done, and she sat there, watching him like he didn't quite recognize him. "Well," she said at last. "That's… wow."

Kurt scrunched his face, the guilt nagging at him once again, alongside some shame. "I'm the worst, aren't I?"

Santana sighed, picked up her burger and gave it a big bite. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, and then said: "I'm not about to applaud you for cheating on your husband, Kurt, but I think I might understand why you are doing it."

"It's just that Blaine…" Kurt started and then stopped, like even saying his name filled him with an overwhelming abundance of emotion. "He's… Santana, he's…"

"He must be amazing in bed to reduce you to this little blubbering, ineloquent mess," she interrupted, the hints of a smirk on her lips.

"It's not even about that, even though… god, yes," Kurt groaned pitifully. "But when I'm with him… I feel seen, you know? And I feel heard, and I feel alive, and I feel cherished, and I honestly can't remember when was the last time I felt like this, or if it even happened before…"

Santana's eyes softened. "This is no joke, then."

"I never said it was," Kurt murmured with a sad little smile.

"What are you going to do?" She asked.

Kurt shook his head, slowly. "I don't know."

"Well, you have to make a decision, and considering you've been fucking around for a little while now, you really don't have much time. You have to do it as soon as possible," she said, never one to beat around the bush.

"I'm not fucking around," Kurt said, indignant. "That's not what this is. Blaine isn't… some random guy I picked up on Tinder."

"Then what is this, Kurt? Put it in words for me," Santana said.

Kurt was silent. He didn't dare say that he didn't have exact words for what this was, that all he knew was that his heart picked up pace whenever he saw Blaine, that kissing him felt like coming home, that his entire soul ached when they couldn't be together…

Santana popped a few French fries into her mouth. "Look, all I know is that whenever I cheated on someone, it was because I didn't love them. I haven't cheated since I was in high school and still dated boys. Just the idea of cheating on Brittany seems absurd to me, and it makes me sick, because I love her so much that every day I wake up in awe that I get to call her my wife. I would never ruin that, for absolutely nothing in this world." She shrugged. "You cheated on Ian, on your husband. And you say you feel lonely, and that things haven't been working out and that you feel like there's something missing… then I think this marriage might not be what you truly want, Kurt."

Kurt reached for his glass of lemonade and downed half of it in one gulp. Oh shit, he was starting to hyperventilate, wasn't he? He was going to have a panic attack…

Santana groaned and stood up. "I have to pee again."

He watched her go as he told himself to remain calm. He had always known he would have to figure things out. Just because Santana was a little blunter than anyone else in his life, and definitely a lot blunter than his own thoughts, it didn't mean she wasn't right. He couldn't keep doing this to Ian. He couldn't keep cheating on him: he had to decide if he wanted to give his marriage another shot, or if he just wanted to admit defeat.

When Santana returned, she stood by the table, looking a little livid.

"Fine, fine, you don't have to look at me that way," Kurt said. "I know you don't approve. It's just that Blaine…"

"Fuck that," she interrupted. "My water just broke."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh. What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know, do you want to ask for some hot water and towels and deliver this baby yourself?" She asked, and the sharp irony in her voice was the only way that gave away how scared she was. "Take me to the hospital, you idiot."

"Right, right," Kurt said, and fished his wallet out of his pocket. He put money on the table, enough to pay their bill twice, but he couldn't quite worry about that right now, and helped Santana back into her coat.

He hailed a taxi and Santana gave the driver the address to the hospital. Kurt sat with her in the backseat, flailing, unsure what to do.

"Calm down, will you?" She said. "You're stressing me out more."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said with a grimace. "Tell me what I can do."

"Just call Brittany, tell her to…" she paused to take a deep breath and she grabbed her belly. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, that hurts."

Kurt already had his phone out and was scrolling through his contact list for Brit's number. "Breathe, just breathe, we'll be there soon."

"You're not going to leave any baby gunk on my seat, right?" The driver asked, glancing at them through the rearview mirror. "I just had the car washed this morning."

Santana glared at him. "Do you know that saying, one life ends, another begins? Unless you want yours to be the one that ends, I suggest you shut up."

On any normal day, Santana was terrifying. But Santana in labor was just a new level that Kurt never thought he would see unlocked.

He managed to get Brittany the third time he called her – she had taken Daisy to a mommy-daughter dance class – and he told her that he was taking Santana to the hospital. Brit seemed nervous and excited at the same time, and promised they would meet them there. Knowing that her wife was on her way seemed to calm Santana a bit, but the contractions weren't exactly helping.

It was lucky that they ended up arriving at the hospital pretty much at the same time. Kurt had just started talking to the receptionist when Brittany burst through the doors, Daisy in her arms, looking wildly around for her wife.

"San!" She exclaimed, leaning in to kiss her. "Oh thank god. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. This just hurts like hell," Santana replied.

"I know," Brittany said apologetically, like it was her fault somehow. Kurt almost explained to her that she hadn't been the one to impregnate Santana and, ergo, had absolutely no fault whatsoever. You never knew with Brittany. But he refrained, because it didn't seem like the right time for a biology lesson. She turned to him and hugged him with an arm. "I'm so glad that you were with her. Thanks for bringing her so quickly."

"It's no problem," Kurt said with a smile.

Santana cleared her throat. "If you two want to keep chatting, that's fine with me, but I'm going to go have this baby now…"

"Sorry, sorry," Brittany said. She turned back to Kurt. "Can we leave Daisy with you? I had no time to arrange for a babysitter…"

Kurt smiled reassuringly. "Of course."

They both kissed their little girl's forehead and promised to see her soon, and then they both soon disappeared down the hallway with a nurse, Santana in a wheelchair, her hand locked in Brittany's.

Once they were gone, he looked down at Daisy, who was standing beside him, holding the edge of his coat, lower lip wobbling, tears already building in her eyes.

"Oh, no, no, baby girl, it's alright," he said, and bent down to pick her up. She really was like a mini-version of Brittany. Today, her blonde hair was in two cute little pigtails. He held her lovingly. "They'll be back in a bit. And when they do, they'll have your baby brother with them! Aren't you excited about being a big sister?"

But Daisy must have picked up all the anguish and anxiety that Brittany had to feel on the way there before she saw Santana with her own two eyes, because she began to cry, hiding her face on the crook of Kurt's neck.

"Everything's okay, Daisy," he said softly into her silky hair. He began to walk around the lobby with her, hoping it would calm her, but he had no idea what he was doing. "You'll be with your moms again in no time…"

No matter what Kurt said, though, Daisy only cried harder. People passing by stared at him, like they thought he was kidnapping or hurting her, and that only made him more desperate to soothe her.

"Ssh, Uncle Kurt's right here," he whispered, rubbing her back comfortingly.

Daisy grabbed his coat in her little hands, making fists. She was so upset it actually made Kurt's chest ache with it.

Maybe this was why he had ended up marrying someone who didn't want kids, because he wasn't destined to have any, because he wasn't good with them…

"Kurt?"

The voice was unexpected, but at the same time so, so welcome that the relief he felt at hearing it almost made his knees buck. He looked up and found Blaine standing in the middle of the lobby, frowning in confusion.

His name came out of him in an exhale: "Blaine."

"What are you doing here?" Blaine asked, coming towards him.

"My friend Santana is having a baby," he explained. "I'm looking after Daisy in the meantime. What about you? Oh, are you alright? Is anyone hurt? Are the kids okay?" He wanted to know, becoming frantic.

Blaine squeezed his arm reassuringly. "Everyone's fine, don't worry. I… well, I was having lunch with Jack. This is where he works."

"Oh," Kurt deflated. He glanced around, almost as if he expected Blaine's husband to appear out of thin air next to them. "I see."

Why were they having lunch together? Kurt knew it was stupid to wonder, but things hadn't been right between Blaine and Jack for a while now. Blaine had said that they only talked to each other when they had to discuss something related to the kids, and the kids clearly weren't here, so this had to be some sort of lunch date, right?

He was spiraling and he knew it. He had no reason to be mad if Blaine was having lunch with his own husband. It was pathetic. It was stupid.

"You look stressed," Blaine commented, and that was a very polite way of putting it.

"Well, Daisy here is a little upset, and I'm pretty terrible with kids, so…" He laughed bitterly.

Blaine's beautiful eyes softened. "That's definitely not true. I've seen you with my kids, remember?" He said. "But if you want some company… maybe I can help?"

Kurt was so relieved he could have cried. "Sure, I'd love that but…" He bit his lip and glanced around again. "Is that… you know, allowed?"

Blaine looked away, uncomfortable and god, when would Kurt stop fucking things up? "There's nothing wrong with running into a friend and helping him if he needs it, right?"

"Right," Kurt murmured, and he felt hollow.

Blaine took a couple of steps so he could see Daisy's face over Kurt's shoulder. "Hi Daisy! My name's Blaine. How old are you?"

She sniffed miserably. "Four."

"Four, wow, that's impressive," Blaine said with a big grin. "You're a really big girl. And I hear your mom is having a new baby, so I bet you're really excited, huh?"

Daisy nodded very slowly.

"And it's okay if you're scared too, you know? And it's okay if you need to cry for a little bit because of how scary everything is," Blaine explained in a quiet, gentle voice. Daisy lifted her head to look at him better. "But your mom and the baby will be okay, and I bet they're both really looking forward to seeing you."

"It's my mama having the baby," Daisy said with the most adorable pout. "My mom is with her."

Blaine smiled at her. "Then your mama is with the person who will take care of her better than anyone. And in the meantime, you and Kurt and me can play a little game and have some fun, what do you say?"

"What kind of game?" Daisy asked, cleaning the snot off her nose with her sleeve before Kurt could stop her.

Blaine got a pack of paper tissues from his pocket – he was such a dad, always prepared for this kind of stuff – and held one to her. "Blow," he said automatically, and Daisy did. "Good job. Well, it can be any game you want. Or maybe we can go to the cafeteria and grab a snack, too. What do you say?"

Daisy kicked her legs so Kurt would let her down. She beamed up at the both of them, all worries forgotten. "I want a snack and a game," she said cheekily.

Blaine chuckled. "Well, that's a very smart decision, Daisy," he said, as he offered his hand to her.

And Kurt watched them – he watched Blaine interact with and easily calm down a child he had never even met before, watched how sweet and patient he was with her, watched him smile and laugh and play and clean up a snotty nose…

And he knew, by the steady beat of his heart, by the warmth spreading all through him, by the way everything inside of him pulled him towards Blaine as if by magnetic force… he just knew, without a single doubt, that he was in love with him.

Kurt looked at him and felt like falling apart.

Love me just a little and I will give you my life
Throw your arms around me, shelter me like a child
Be my direction, throw myself at your feet
Give me something in return for what you've done to me

Aaaaand Kurt's screwed :)

Alright, I have a little announcement you might not exactly like: this story is going on a two-week hiatus. I promise I'll be back on October 4th, but due to personal reasons, I need a little time off. This story will not be abandoned – I'm working on the last two chapters right now. I appreciate the patience and the understanding.

See you in two weeks!

With all my love,

L.-