Notes: Written for the December Klaine Fanworks Challenge prompts fixture, challenge, feeling, and belong.
"Can you believe it's been six years?"
Blaine starts small talk as his co-star triple-checks his vanity, ensuring he doesn't leave anything behind. At this point, Blaine is convinced that Kurt is stalling. He'd emptied the drawers completely the first time, opened them till they were practically falling out, grabbed up everything double-fisted (even stuff Blaine knows belongs to the studio), and dropped it into his duffel. The only thing Blaine can see when Kurt opens the drawers this time is a few hairs and some grey lint. Kurt stops and stares at it, and Blaine makes a private bet on whether or not Kurt plans to take that, too.
"I thought it would never end," Kurt mutters, sweeping through the empty space with his hand, then shutting the drawers carefully. He zips up his bag and sets it on the squat stool he has sat on daily since he auditioned for this role.
A role he is leaving behind him, today of all days.
His thirtieth birthday.
A milestone he had been happy to overlook but can't ignore now because of this.
"Harsh." Blaine pouts, but he's only joking. He doesn't take Kurt's grumbling personally. Blaine knows Kurt is dealing with demons he hasn't told Blaine about yet.
Blaine is willing to wait for introductions.
He circles behind Kurt, stopping at the far end of the vanity, and leans against it. That's Blaine's spot. He would stand there while Kurt got his makeup done: shot the shit with him, distracted him, joked with him, ran lines with him. He never pulled up a chair, content to lean his rear against the wood.
Kurt examined it one day when he noticed offhandedly that the color had faded. He smiled when he saw a smooth spot where the pockets of Blaine's jeans had worn down the finish.
"Our audience really seemed to like us, didn't they?"
Blaine smiles. This was Kurt's big worry from day one. Not for himself. He had faith in his acting abilities. More importantly, he knew he couldn't please everyone. He made peace with that. But he wanted to know that he and Blaine were doing their characters justice, portraying people that tadpole gays could look up to and older queers would be proud to count as representation.
"They loved us," Blaine assures him. "Of course, when you consider the fact that there were so few shows on TV featuring a married gay couple, the bar was set kind of low."
Kurt shoots Blaine a sarcastic smirk. "Nice."
"Hey. You guys almost done in there?"
Kurt and Blaine turn toward a voice coming from the rear double doors and spot Tony, the security guard, strolling their way. Kurt bites his lower lip, and Blaine smiles sheepishly. Not half an hour ago, Kurt commented that they had been on the show for so long that they knew Tony back when he had hair.
"Yeah, Tony," Blaine says. "Just five more minutes?"
Tony responds with a nod and a wave, then retreats out the door. He's not a man of many words, but Blaine was sure he saw the man getting misty-eyed when they arrived.
"I'm heading to DiGazio's for lunch," Blaine says. "Say goodbye to this thing properly. You wanna come? My treat." Blaine bumps Kurt's shoulder lightly with his fist. "I'll get you a slice of cake."
"Sure. That sounds...that sounds great."
Blaine tilts his chin when Kurt sniffs, moving to get a better look at Kurt's eyes. They're clouded, memories piling up, obscuring the here and now. But there's something else there, too, furrowing Kurt's brow and causing his upper lip to twitch slightly. "What's wrong, Kurt? You look close to tears."
Kurt nods, lost in his thoughts, and Blaine feels like he has interrupted a conversation Kurt was having with himself, one that hadn't yet come to a resolution. He takes a breath in and exhales for a long time. "I'm thinking about the future. The challenges ahead. What my life is going to look like."
"And?" Blaine inches closer, curious about Kurt's conclusion, hoping it might help him resolve his own conundrum.
Kurt pins his gaze to his reflection. He looks so forlorn that Blaine isn't sure he'll continue. "What do I do now?"
Blaine feels that question deep in his soul. "Well, you stand up, and you come with me for a bite."
"That's not what I mean."
"I know," Blaine sighs. He doesn't have an answer. He wishes he did. He's struggling with the same problem, asking himself the same thing all morning. He hasn't come up with a satisfactory answer. So he offers Kurt a sympathetic shrug and tells him what he's been telling himself. "You move on, I guess. Your agent told my agent that studios are clamoring for you. You've had three offers already, haven't you?"
"But this show has been my life for so long. I'm not one to hold on to a character with white knuckles, but I finally started to feel like we belonged. I'm not eager to let that feeling go. Does that make sense?"
"It does," Blaine admits. It's one thing performing in mainstream shows. But acting in something considered niche and turning it into a success? That's lightning in a bottle.
"I'm not saying we should drag this show out any longer. We put the Helversons to bed, and I'm content with how it was done, but I'm leaving so much behind. This studio set is more my home than my apartment. Then there's Jeremiah and Caty. Those are our babies! They've been with us since birth! We've held them, fed them, burped them for the past two years, the formidable years of their lives! And then there's...there's you..." Kurt's speech stumbles to a halt. Blaine startles at the sudden change.
"What...what about me?" he asks, concern etched on his face. That concern, Blaine's brows drawn together above the bridge of his nose and his forehead creased with worry, is the only reason Kurt continues.
"I...I don't know how to do anything but be your husband. You have been a fixture in my life. One I fooled myself into believing would be permanent. Because as ridiculous as it sounds, there came a point where I didn't see myself doing anything else for a good chunk of my career. And I was okay with that."
Blaine's response comes out in a whisper. He'd been holding his breath from the moment Kurt said he didn't know how to do anything but be Blaine's husband. "It's not ridiculous. I feel the same."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
They fall silent around those confessions. Blaine's heart beats inside his chest like a clock ticking, reminding him they don't have all day in here. Eventually, Tony will return, and the two of them will have to leave. This moment may not come around for them again. But first, Blaine needs to know if Kurt is saying what Blaine thinks he's saying?
There's only one way to find out.
And though Blaine has always been scared shitless of saying the wrong thing and losing Kurt forever, he jumps in with both feet. "Do you maybe want to try...being my boyfriend?"
Kurt looks at Blaine, confused. Then his eyes brighten, his face awash in relief. "Oh my God! You got the callback? That's fantastic! Why didn't you say so? Because I..."
"What?" Blaine puts up his hands to slow Kurt down. "No!" Kurt goes back to melancholic so quickly it gives Blaine whiplash, and he has to laugh because he knows he's screwing up. He can't seem to help himself. "I mean, yes, I did, but...what I mean is, would you like to be my boyfriend, but for real?"
For six years, their contracts encouraged them to socialize but forbade them to date. Both men were fine with that at the beginning. They hung out between takes to familiarize themselves with one another. They saw themselves becoming good friends but were sure they could maintain a professional relationship.
They never realized that they would get along like a house on fire.
Blaine and Kurt have been there for each other as much as any couple. When Kurt's father had his stroke, Blaine drove Kurt to and from the hospital at all hours, brought him his favorite lunch, made sure he got quiet when needed, and fended off his fans with official statements when Kurt didn't have the spoons to go out in public.
When Blaine needed his appendix removed, he confided in Kurt about his debilitating fear of hospitals. Kurt stayed by his side every second before and after surgery. He held Blaine's hand while he slept, organized his medications, filled out paperwork, and even helped Blaine bathe. They've dined together, vacationed together, gotten drunk together.
They've made it this far.
That's more than a lot of couples can say.
And besides, Blaine really wants to kiss him.
Blaine has kissed Kurt goodbye after every day of shooting, but the studio only cleared them for the chastest pecks in public.
A day hasn't gone by that Blaine hasn't imagined how fantastic kissing Kurt would feel or holding him tight and with abandon.
"How...how do you mean?" Kurt asks, breaking from his stupor.
"I mean you and me, being a couple in the real world. We have been so fortunate, Kurt. We had an opportunity that other people rarely get. We met, became friends, fell in love, got married, adopted children, but in front of an audience. And now that that's done, we can do it all over again if we want, but for us this time."
Kurt nods again, but this time, he looks happier. Resolute. "How very Whatever Dreams May Come of you." He reaches a hand for Blaine's, and Blaine takes it on instinct, the way he has hundreds of times. Blaine tugs tentatively, and Kurt moves closer, sliding into his arms.
"What do you say?" Blaine asks. "We can start with lunch today, then dinner tomorrow, and after that, who knows?"
"I do." Kurt loops his arms around Blaine's neck and rests their foreheads together. There they stand, truly connected for the first time ever after six years of marriage. "With any luck, we live happily ever after for a second time."