Archive of Our Own

December, I'll remember

Blaine would like to say he was cool, calm, and collected when he spotted the members of One Three Hill at the airport. But, well.

Dani caught his eyes first, shaking out her hair as she was, curls a signature blue. Next to her stood Elliott, aka Starchild, all leather jacket and ear studs and smoky eyeliner too. It was Kurt, however, the last of the trio, who held Blaine's eyes, his attention, who held his breath, it felt like, in front of him so that Blaine had no choice but to give chase.

Kurt was KURT, a star in every pore of him. Even now, dressed down in simple leggings and a baggy sweater, there was no denying that this was Kurt freakin' Hummel. He stood a little apart from his bandmates, hips cocked and eyes serious as he scrolled through his phone, and Blaine had never been more in love.

Kurt. Hummel.

Blaine's heart gave a lurch, half zombie and all alive.

Kurt Hummel in the flesh.

Blaine staggered forward, onward, hopelessly so.

"Hi!" He heard his voice go high, a little puff of sound that came out half a sigh. "Sorry! I didn't mean to just barge into your day. I–" He put up a hand to stop himself but it was too late. "I'm a huge fan. I love love love your music so much." And he dropped his hand, sheepish now that Kurt, Dani, and Elliott (and some onlookers besides) were all staring at him.

"Thank you." Elliott shot him a smile shot through with a little smirk. "You got a pen?"

Blaine blinked, brought up short by the question. "A pen?"

"What he means," Dani rolled her eyes and finished putting her hair up in a messy bun, "is would you like an autograph? We'd be happy to sign something for you."

"Oh!" Blaine patted down his shirt and jean pockets and caught the amused glance of Kurt behind Dani's shoulder. Kurt raised an eyebrow and a purple pen, quirked his mouth in a way that Blaine had only dreamt about.

"Yes, that-that would be awesome." He barely breathed as he took out his handkerchief and passed it back, right to Kurt.

"What's your name?" Kurt's musical voice rang out between them and it was all Blaine could do not to flail on the spot. Kurt was talking to him. To him!

"Blaine," he replied, spelled. "Anderson." He spelled that too.

"Which of our songs is your favorite, Blaine?"

Blaine stared at Kurt's elegant fingers and spouted three titles in quick succession. Those were all songs that Kurt had written. Blaine should know. They did nothing to tame his crush on the songbird. All bias aside, they were such good songs, with solid beats and hooks, with lyrics that lingered, spoke right to his soul, that said, oh, there you are.

Kurt looked up, clearly pleased, if a little surprised. "Oh, I'm flattered! Usually these two hog all the attention." He grinned, deflecting as he ducked his head.

"You," Blaine rushed to say, then realized he wasn't making sense. Or even a sentence. "I mean– you are the highlight for me, Kurt."

"You two need some privacy?" Elliott took a step aside.

Kurt looked up from signing and his eyes, dear god, were so pretty. Blaine could hardly hold his gaze. Hot. He felt hot all over, a bun of embarrassment.

"Don't be a dick, El." Dani took the handkerchief from Kurt and turned it to sign her name.

"Just cause you're jealous." Kurt added, flicking his lashes delicately over and up.

Blaine swallowed. Kurt was even more beautiful in person. Photographs didn't do him justice. Especially not in action. Kurt in action was something else.

Kurt's next action was a wink. At him. Blaine felt his whole face redden, flushed with happiness. Kurt Hummel winked at him.

"Super jealous." Elliott nodded as took the pen and square of pale cream silk from Dani. "Where's my knight in shiny bow tie?"

Kurt and Dani snorted, half a tease but mostly sympathy. Dani patted Elliott's back, rubbing a little, and Blaine felt like he was intruding. After all, Elliott hadn't had the best of luck with relationships. Everyone knew that.

"Here you go." Elliott handed him the handkerchief, the pen, a small smile.

Blaine's mind went blank as he accepted all three. "Thanks! Thank you." He stared at the wildly different penmanship, the three distinct personalities oozing from the lines. Kurt's was thoughtful with a flare, artistic, like a cat stretching. Dani's made him think of Mulan, strokes flying like swords. Elliott's cursive was surprisingly light, with a small heart at the end. "Thank you so much, I–"

The intercom boomed, announced boarding for the flight to Boston.

"That's us." Dani waved her phone. "Maybe we'll see you again."

"Or you'll see us again." Elliott put in.

"Definitely." Blaine nodded. “I try to catch your shows when I can, but–" he lifted a shoulder. "Poor college student." He stared at Kurt a beat longer. "Can I- can I give you a hug?" He asked before he lost his nerve.

"Of course." Kurt held out his arms, held for him a little smile too, and Blaine's heart fluttered honeybee, oh, humming-hummingbird fast.

Carefully, Blaine hugged him, inhaling a lungful of clean, airy scent, like mountaintop or stardust, or magic maybe. Kurt hugged him back just as gently, patting him on the back a couple of times.

"See you, Blaine Anderson."

It sounded like a promise somehow.

It was later, when – oh, who was he kidding? The image of Kurt smiling at him was hardly going to fade. But it was later when Blaine realized that he still had Kurt's pen.

January, maybe

Blaine caught a One Three Hill show in Chicago. Nosebleed seat though. Too high up, too far away. Still a great night. Kurt had written a new song 'Airport Encounter' and Blaine flattered himself that it might be about him.

Maybe, maybe, Kurt's purple pen winked at him.

February, randomly

The next time Blaine saw Kurt, it was Kurt who saw him first. Blaine had his eyes closed, fingers stealing like lovers over piano keys. It happened when he got lost in a song, and this one was about a love lost. Blaine had just broken up with his boyfriend. Sebastian claimed that Blaine loved Kurt's pen more than he loved him, which was ridiculous, if perhaps not untrue.

When Blaine heard the whistle at the end of his performance, his eyes snapped to Kurt in the restaurant crowd.

And almost fell on his face.

As it was, he barely managed a little wave and a bow.

He found Kurt outside not long after. Kurt was putting on his coat and running a hand over his perfect hair. As always, Blaine found he couldn't look away. Performing or just talking, Kurt was a vision.

"You, sir, held out on me!" The vision accused. "You're a musician, too?"

Blaine felt like doubling over with embarrassment. A musician? Cooper would laugh. And not just his big brother. His dad – well, Blaine was better off not thinking about his dad where music was concerned. "Oh no, I– I just play on the weekends. Pocket money."

"Speaking of which…" Kurt reached into his coat and came up with a fifty. "I didn't know how your tip system worked. There was no bowl on the piano and I didn't want to just fling money at you. Sorry, this is all I have on me."

"Are you serious?" Blaine just about squeaked. "I can't take that!"

"Sure you can." Kurt folded his hand over the bill and Blaine let his fingers linger, his mouth still open in surprise. Kurt was speaking, serious now. "You worked for it. Trust me, you're good, great even. It was the most pleasant dinner I've had in… oh gosh, ages."

Blaine fumbled for an intelligent reply. "Me too. Not– not dinner obviously, but the most beautiful night."

Kurt's lips quirk again in that gorgeous way he had. "Beautiful night," he agreed. He pulled away as a cab pulled up. "Good night, Blaine Anderson. I'll see you around."

"See you, Kurt." This time Blaine let himself believe it.

Mid-March, live large

Blaine loved coffee. Blaine inhaled coffee like so much air. He loved blueberry muffins too, on occasion. On this occasion, he wasn't paying much attention to either. He'd just spotted Kurt and the other members of the One Three Hill in a cozy corner of the coffee shop. Kurt hadn't spotted him yet. He had his head down as he hummed to himself and scribbled on a sheet in front of him.

Dani, however, was looking Blaine's direction. Dani waved at him and grinned. Her hair was half shaved now, long on one side with baby fuzz on the other. It was still blue, though only at the tips. It suited her.

Blaine smiled and waved back. He didn't approach their table however. The group was obviously working. Elliott's head was bent alongside Kurt's and they looked deep in discussion.

Anyway, Blaine already had their autographs. He even had (well, stolen, inadvertently) Kurt's pen.

He settled a couple of tables away and pulled out his homework. On his iPod, he pulled up 'Airport Encounter'. It was fast becoming his favorite song. The last time he saw Kurt, he was too flustered to ask, but again he wondered if Kurt really did make a 'connection' as the song claimed, if he was possibly that little smudge of sunshine that had Kurt bursting to fly. Just the thought of it made him smile.

~~

Fingers snapped under his nose, a quick one-two click. Blaine looked up and registered the amused face of Elliott, whose ear stud glittered as bright as ever, even in daylight.

"Hey!" Blaine tugged out his earbuds with haste.

"Hey yourself. I heard I need to get your autograph now, before you become rich and famous and blow us off."

Blaine looked to Kurt in surprise and blushed. "I would never blow you off."

Elliott laughed. "Does that mean you're open to collaborating with us?"

Dani shouldered him out of the way. "Stop freaking him out! But yeah, let's jam together sometime."

"Jam-? Wow." Blaine didn't know what to say. Did Dani and Elliott just ask him to play music with them? "I– yeah, of course, just say the word, whenever you want."

"How about now?" Kurt bounced a little on his feet, like maybe he'd had a little too much coffee.

Blaine stuck out his neck like a giraffe. "Now? As in now? Yeah! Yes." He stood up in a rush and almost knocked over his cup. He was so smooth.

~~

Jamming with One Three Hill was improv heaven. Blaine was grooving now, head bobbing as he listened to the playback and drank some ice, cold water. He needed an ice, cold something. Each swallow was a little pinch of oh my god, this is real life.

Real life was Elliott riffing a sick chord that seemed to make love to his piano playing. Real life was Dani following that up with her bass crooning like lovers under covers. Real life was Kurt's voice, beautiful and crystal sweet, cupping Blaine's heart like it might never let go. Blaine hoped so. He really did.

Between the four of them, they came up with bits of two new songs, one a little pop-dancy and one a little soul-jazzy.

"Well, you know where to find me." He said at the end of the night – and it was night, starry in the sky now as well as all around him.

"We don't actually." Kurt pulled out his phone. "These last couple of times we ran into you were pure coincidence. Here – trade."

"Oh." Blaine took the phone, fingers brushing Kurt's and handed his over. "I'll just– yeah." He typed out his info and saved it under 'Blaine Anderson'.

Dani was looking over his shoulder and chuckled. "Like we know another Blaine, Blaine!" And she shoved her phone into his hands next.

"I like his full name." Kurt came to his defense. "It sounds… musical."

Blaine perked up like the most blessed dandelion of all dandelions.

"Of course you like his name." Elliott was saying. "You like–"

But Blaine never found out what it was that Kurt liked because Kurt elbowed Elliott in the side and said, "Shut up, Starchild."

Elliott just hugged Kurt affectionately to him. Blaine knew it was because Elliott was in a good mood these days, what with a new boyfriend and all. Blaine was happy for him. It was about time his luck turned.

Late March, a little harsh

Blaine gave himself a nine point five out of ten for self control. Even though he had all three members of the band's phone numbers now, he didn't text them for two whole weeks.

Well, not about Kurt. Not ostensibly.

Instead, he sent more piano riffs. Kurt sent back his voice backed by those riffs, and Blaine thought this must be what heaven felt like.

"So, what, are you like part of their band now?" Sam wanted to know. Sam was his roommate and the goofiest guy Blaine knew. He was also genuinely sweet, the most caring guy that Blaine knew.

"I– no!" Blaine shook his head. The idea was absurd. "I'm just jamming with them, you know?" He used the band's words, unsure all of a sudden.

"Are they paying you?"

Blaine shook his head and then thought about the fifty bucks from Kurt. But that was – that had nothing to do with now, with the new music they were making.

"Are they stealing from you?" Sam's lips curled into a flushed ring of distaste. He had strong ideas about money, having come from poverty. "Dude, cause that is not cool, bro."

"What's not cool?" Mercedes, who was dating Sam, strode into the apartment and accepted a kiss on her cheek from Sam and another more platonic one from Blaine on her other cheek.

"Nothing!" Blaine hurried to explain before Sam could twist the situation around and confuse him more.

Mercedes looked at him like he was missing a lightbulb in his head. Granted, this was her default look for boys.

Blaine blinked at her, half imploring her to take his side.

She sighed. "Look, I know you're in love with that Kurt boy or whatever. Lord knows I had a crush on him myself once upon a time before he came out. But you cannot just write songs with them and not get any credit! It's fun for you. I get that. But Blaine, use your head. This could be your in to the industry."

Blaine shook his head. He couldn't seem to stop shaking his head. "But I'm not– that's not the industry I'm going into. I'm not good enough." He looked at his fingernails. They were neatly trimmed. His father's were always neatly trimmed too. His father was an investment banker, just like his grandfather and his great-grandfather, too. "I'm just playing, you know, messing around."

Mercedes shifted to sit next to him. Her arm came around his shoulder, warm and strong and comforting.

Then she flicked his temple.

"Ow!" Blaine looked to her, wounded, but she was giving him no breaks.

"Don't even! They think you're good enough to jam with. They think you're good enough to write with. So do it! Just don't be dumb about it."

"Yeah, I'll be your manager. We'll be rich and famous together." Sam squished in on the sofa on his other side.

Mercedes gave him a look. "I thought you were going to be my manager, baby."

Blaine got up, half dizzy, and walked away from their voices. He was pretty sure he didn't want to be there for that conversation.

Credit? A part of their band? The ideas sounded crazy to him. He was just a college student majoring in economics who played the piano at a hole in the wall on the weekends. Secretly. Who was he to think he could sing with Kurt one day?

April, not first, filled, about to burst

"Do you sing?" Dani yanked open the door of the hotel room and dragged him in. "Can you carry a tune? Whistle? Anything?"

"Um." Blaine looked over her shoulder and saw Kurt and Elliott on the bed, surrounded by takeouts, the containers stacked like a fort.

"Stop manhandling the guy and let him breathe." Elliott threw a fry at her. Amazingly, she caught it and popped it right in her mouth.

"Yeah, but you know this part doesn't sound right. Blaine's here. We might as well give him a try."

All three pairs of eyes lit on him, all curious. Blaine laughed nervously. "Guess I should have brought Sam." He tugged at his collars nervously.

"Who's Sam?" Dani demanded. "Do they sing?"

"Dani, stop breathing on him! Sam's probably his girlfriend and he's obviously intimidated by us." Kurt said in a rush, his eyes not quite meeting Blaine's.

"No!" Blaine licked his lips. "Sam's not my girlfriend. Roommate actually. He wanted to be my manager, but I'm sure he was just kidding. But yes, I'm very–" His hand trembled and he let it fall. "Well, I did sing in glee club in high school, but nothing serious, nothing big league like you all."

"Oh, you sing!" Kurt clapped, blatantly ignoring the rest of his comments. "What do you want to sing? We can do it together."

"I–"

"How about 'Airport Encounter'?" Dani suggested, her eyes sweeping over them with amusement. "I'm sure Blaine knows it. You know it, don't you, Blaine?"

Elliott choked on a fry.

Blaine would feel bad for the guy if he wasn't currently dying of embarrassment himself. He looked to Kurt, who had gone pink all over as well and felt a little boost of confidence. Perhaps the song was about him.

"I do." He admitted quietly. "I do know it."

"Great!" Dani launched herself at the bed and Kurt ducked out of the way at the last second. It would seem the band had a physical language as well as musical, a life choreography of sorts that they've worked out over the years they've been together, travelling and making music. It made Blaine wistful.

Kurt began to croon, hips swaying as he crossed the room. The song started out soft, little susurrations almost like fabrics rustling. Blaine felt seduced, as he always was by Kurt's voice, by Kurt's everything.

Kurt held out his hand and crooked his finger, an invitation and a half for Blaine to jump in, sing.

Blaine closed his eyes and pretended he was in his bedroom, no one to judge him except Sam and Mercedes (and sometimes Tina and Artie) who were (mostly) merciful, his friends.

After a few verses, Blaine realized Kurt had stopped singing. He opened his eyes, one at a time, to peek at the room.

Kurt's mouth was hanging open. Dani's too, a fry frozen on its way to her mouth. Only Elliott was at ease, eyes half closed as he chewed.

Blaine trailed off. "I– was that– was that okay?"

"I'm going to punch you in the face if you ask that one more time!" Dani threw down her fry.

"Um." Blaine took a step back.

"Translation – Dani loved it and is super jealous of your velvety smooth tone," Kurt hurried to say. "You've really held out on us."

Blaine stared and fell speechless. What did one say to stars when they complimented you?

"Nothing to say for yourself?" Elliott plucked up another cashew.

"Sam wanted you to pay me." Blaine blurted the first thing that came to mind.

Elliott laughed, his whole face lit up with delight. "I am liking your roommate."

"He's straight." Blaine blurted again and wished he could shut his mouth, honestly.

"What did he wanted you to be paid for exactly?" Dani narrowed her eyes at him.

"Dani!" Kurt admonished, shocked. "Don't be rude."

Dani just crossed her arms. "I'm trying to figure out if this Sam's the one being rude!"

"For my–" Blaine bit back the word 'hands' because that was the exact wrong impression. "For my musical contribution," he settled on.

"For your talent, then." Elliott grinned, arching an eyebrow.

"Just – everyone – shush!" Kurt held up a hand.

It was a very effective hand.

"Blaine," Kurt looked him in the eyes, looked so earnestly, "we would have credited you for any songs we use. Of course we would. We're not thieves! Also, you can sing. You can use more practice sure, but you can sing. Don't ever doubt that." He cast a long look at his bandmates and a silent conversation pinged between them.

With a last nod, definitive, Kurt turned to him. "Blaine Anderson, we have a proposal for you."

May, it pays to play

Blaine felt about two inches tall.

"Who are you?" The intimidating looking young Latina stared him down like he was so much dirt under her stilettos.

"Blaine Anderson." He introduced himself. "You must be Santana." He smiled and then tried to maintain it. Kurt did warn him that their manager scared the bejesus out of most people. But he also said that Santana would be in a good mood because she was newly wed, to her high school sweetheart no less, and they had just returned from their honeymoon.

"I heard congratulations are–"

Santana cut him off. "Kurt sent me recordings of you singing together. Let me tell you, I am not thrilled about changing a trio to a quartet. Trios are hotter. Or five-somes. What are we going to do about the name? One Four Hill sounds hideous and boring. Not to mention, we're going to have to draw you up a contract. Do you even have an agent?"

Blaine felt faint. He followed Santana as she walked into her office and set down her bag with a sigh.

"I'll take that as a no."

Blaine felt his cheeks heat. She wasn't wrong.

"Here's what we're going to do." Santana fired up her laptop and got to work.

~~

"Is she always this… brisk?" Blaine knew he shouldn't be complaining. He was going to sing with One Three Hill. Or whatever their band name was changing to, if it did.

Dani snorted. "You got nice Santana, trust me. We used to date."

"Wait, seriously?"

"Not seriously. It was a fling really. I knew she wasn't over Britt." Dani looked at him and grinned. "You know, I'm glad you're joining us, if only for this tour. It'll be fun."

"Maybe joining you. I'm on probation, remember?"

Dani waved a hand. "That's just lawyer speak for insurance. I know you'll do great." She threw her arms around him and gave him a squeeze. Blaine took a deep breath. Dani smelled tropical, like the beach, all coconut and summer. He set his shoulders down, started to relax.

The door creaked open. "How come everytime I see you, you're all over him, Dani?" Kurt breezed into the hotel room like he walked on air and peeled off his coat.

Instantly, Blaine un-relaxed. He couldn't help but stare.

"Obviously you should see me more, Kurt-Kurt." Dani bounced over and kissed him on the cheek.

Kurt made a face but Blaine saw the way he patted Dani's hand anyway, affectionate. "Kurt Hummel, Dani. Not Kurt-Kurt. That makes my dad sound utterly unimaginative."

"Big man Burt!" Dani lit up. "When do we get to see him again?"

Kurt ducked his head, but Blaine could see the small smile on his lips, that little wisp of wistfulness. "Tomorrow, I hope. If Carol can swap her shift at the hospital. Carol's my stepmother," Kurt looked his way to let him know.

And Blaine felt warm at being included, like he was actually somehow starting to be a part of this band.

He listened to them chat about Kurt's father, stepmother, and stepbrother (and the stepbrother's girlfriend, who was apparently none other than Broadway darling Rachel Berry), and thought to himself how surreal his life was. He was on first-name basis with these stars, who were fast becoming his – dare he say it, friends?

"So, I heard the paperwork's done." Kurt knee-walked over to him on the bed and Blaine sat frozen, heart a humming thing birding in his chest.

"I hope so." He was pleased to hear his voice came out mostly steady. "My hand feels like it's about to fall off," he exaggerated. There were only five places he had to initial, sign, and date. It was more his brain which was about to fall off, from all the legal mumbo jumbo. Still, it was worth it for the look in Kurt's eyes.

"Want a massage?"

Blaine's mind went blank. "What?"

"Here," Kurt reached for him, looking serious all of the sudden. "I've been told I have magical fingers."

Blaine handed over his hand mutely and stared at Kurt in wonder.

Kurt started with his little finger, rubbing systematically up and down his joints until Blaine felt boneless. He didn't know how long he sat there, letting Kurt hold his hands and work his magic. But when the door clicked, he looked up and found Dani had gone from the room and it was just Kurt, sitting knee to knee with him.

Blaine swallowed down his nerves. This felt unreal. "This feels perfect" was what he said.

Kurt looked up at him under his lashes and smiled, almost shy. "Good."

"Your dad sounds cool."

Kurt quirked up his lips. "Yeah, my dad's cooler than he has ever been. Once he got over his fear that I'd get bullied for being myself, he's been my biggest supporter."

"You're lucky." Blaine thought of his own dad, how he had not yet told him about his plan to defer college for a semester. Or two. How he was afraid of that conversation. How he had been afraid of every big conversation he'd ever had with his father.

"Oh, believe me. I know I am." Kurt moved behind him and started working his fingers over Blaine's shoulders. "This okay?"

"Yeah." Blaine let his head fall forward and his thoughts scatter. Nothing mattered with Kurt this close to him, this warm against his back.

Kurt started humming, a melody from one of their new songs. And Blaine couldn't help it, couldn't help backing him up, humming too. It felt as natural as breathing.

When Kurt was all done and Blaine was all flushed, he ventured to ask, "I could massage you, return the favor, if, if you'd like?"

But Kurt smiled kindly and shook his head. "I'm good for now. Rain check?"

"Rain check."

June, have you come so soon

One Three Hill – it was decided the name shouldn't change after all; they were still the same band – played their first concert with Blaine two weeks after the ink had dried on his contract. It was a mall event, sponsored by Verizon, and it was by far the biggest audience Blaine had ever played.

Dani kissed him on his cheek before heading out to stage. "For luck."

Elliott kissed him too and parroted cheekily, "for luck." With emphasis, he looked back at Kurt.

"Oh, for pete's sake." Santana rolled her eyes skyward. "Just kiss him, Kurt. We don't have all day."

Kurt glared at her but gave Blaine a light kiss anyway. "You don't need luck. You're going to be great."

When Kurt looked at him like that, Blaine couldn't help but believe. "We're going to be great," Blaine beamed back at him.

"You're going to be late is what it is, if you don't get a move on." Santana splayed a hand over her hip. She only just quelled when her wife Brittany came up and gave her a kiss of her own.

Blaine hurried after Kurt, out towards the sea of expectant faces and flashing phones.

In retrospect, he should have known that the concert was going to end up online. One Three Hill's shows always did. Everyone was going to see. Everyone, even his family.

Sure enough, as Blaine was winding down with the group at Breadstix, a local eatery, he got a call from his big brother. "Cooper?"

"Hey little brother! When did you become a rockstar? Hey, listen, bad news – dad found out."

Blaine froze. His dad. He hadn't worked up the nerve to tell his dad yet about the band, about college, about anything.

"–so, you looked cozy with the tall, skinny one on your duet."

"Coop!" Blaine held up his hand, wished he could actually stop this conversation. It wasn't happening. It wasn't, right? "Coop, what did dad say?"

"Oh, I don't think that's for me to repeat."

"Cooper, please."

Cooper fell silent for a beat – virtually unheard of for all of Blaine's life. In his mind-film his big brother was always hogging the spotlight, always talking, singing, and pointing fingers, always making noise. This – this was new. "Look, don't worry about dad, alright? You were great tonight. I'm proud of you."

Before Blaine could recover from the shock, the line went dead.

Kurt found him leaning against the wall outside, trying to breathe.

"Are you okay?" Kurt looked at him intensely then shook his head. "Silly question. Of course not. I heard you say 'dad' and then you ran out there like a bat outta hell. Do you… want to talk about it?"

Blaine looked over at Kurt and realized how close they were. Their arms were pushed together and Blaine felt hot all over. He looked at Kurt's lips and wished he could just –

Kurt breathed out harshly and turned, tilting his head up to look at the moon. "No, you're right. Better to save it as song material."

It startled a smile out of Blaine. "Is that what you did? Airport Encounter – was that–?"

Kurt's hand edged to rest against his on the wall. Their pinkies touched. "Maybe," he said. Then a light brush later, quieter, "Yes."

Blaine closed his eyes and smiled, happiness soaking through him like a salve. "It's one of my favorites."

"Don't let El and Dani hear you. They'll get jealous."

"Why would we get jealous? Nevermind, we're already jealous." Elliott strode over and rolled up his sleeve. "You left before our waitress propositioned our table."

"She was hot though." Dani shrugged.

"You say that about all the girls who proposition you."

Dani grinned. "What can I say? Girls are hot."

"Some of them are also stalkers." Beiste, one of their body guards pointed out, jerking his chin towards the door where the silhouette of a young girl materialized. "Time to go, lady and gents."

No one questioned him. Elliott especially practically leapt into the car.

Blaine missed Kurt's hand the moment it lifted from the wall, from his hand. But the smile Kurt sent his way more than made up for the loss.

July, oh, enough of lies

Blaine managed to delay the conversation with his father by another three weeks, mostly saved by the bell (ringtone) of his dad's work calls on the other line.

Then his mom called.

"Blaine, honey, what's going on with you?"

Blaine ran out excuses. He hadn't gone home for the summer. The 'traveling with friends' line was only going to hold for so long.

"Mom, I want to sing." He said in a rush.

"Of course you do. You always sang around the house with Coop."

"No," Blaine closed his eyes. "Mom, I want to sing as a career."

"Cooper said something about you getting an ear stud. Is that what this is about? Are you having a quarter life crisis?"

Blaine closed his eyes and wished for patience. "Mom, I'm not getting an ear stud. I just want to play the piano and sing and write songs and I– I want to make music." He paused and gathered up his courage. "I don't want to go into banking."

With dad echoed between them.

"You know," his mom sighed, "I had a feeling. Tina sent me a YouTube video from your show in Tallahassee."

Which was two days ago. Blain dry-swallowed. "She did?" He was going to have words with Tina.

"I've watched it ten times already." His mom sounded almost… proud.

"Oh."

"I wished you told us. We're your family, Blaine. We love you."

Blaine closed his eyes over the guilt welling up. "I love you too, mom."

"Just tell me one thing – are you dating that pretty boy?"

"What?" His eyes popped open. "No. No. I'm not dating anyone." Alas.

He expected his mom to press, but there was nothing, just a rustling sound.

"Hello? Mom?"

"Blaine."

"Dad!"

His father's voice was a ring of drums at full volume. Angry drums. "How will you manage classes in the fall if you continue touring?"

"I'm–" Blaine was shocked into admitting the truth. "I'm not."

"You're not touring or not going back to college?"

Blaine gathered up his courage. "College," he blurted. "I'm taking a semester's leave. Maybe more, depending on how the trial period goes."

"I see." His dad said, and pounds of disappointment dripped down his ear canal. "Do not sign anything without one of our lawyers present."

"Wha–I– okay?" It was hardly the lecture Blaine expected. And they had lawyers? Was that the same as agents? Blaine had no idea.

"Your mom wants to talk to you."

Only, Blaine hardly heard his mom after the shock that was his father not discouraging him for once.

~~

"You're attacking that popsicle like it's the Excalibur that slayed your pet dragon. Are you okay, Blaine?"

Blaine almost choked as he looked up and met Kurt's eyes.

"Whoa, easy there, tiger."

Blaine gave up and set his popsicle down on its wrapper on top of the piano. "I just– I don't know. All my life, I thought my dad was the only obstacle in the way of my dreams. And now that he's changed his mind, for today at least, I– what if these past weeks have been a fluke and I just– I suck at our next concert and let you all down and–let myself down and–"

Kurt gripped Blaine's shoulder gently but firmly and sat down beside him. "It's gonna happen, you know, bad days. We're not machines, Blaine. Sometimes we put on a better show than others. Then there are days you need to suck a lozenge instead and that's okay. That's fine. My only advice? Don't trip. Falling on an amp hurts like a you-know-what."

Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, so earnest, so blue, so close to his. His eyes dropped down to Kurt's lips. "You're amazing."

Kurt's hand tightened around his shoulder.

Blaine couldn't help the lean, natural as a breeze, unerring as gravity, towards Kurt.

Kurt met him halfway, lips as soft as Blaine dreamed, hand gripping firm on his shoulder like an anchor.

Blaine would pinch himself except his hands were full, cupping Kurt's face, sliding around into Kurt's hair and down to smooth over Kurt's neck.

"Is this what we're calling 'practice' now?"

Blaine jumped at the sound of Elliott's voice, his face flaming. He stared at Kurt, who stared back, looking as dishevelled as Blaine felt.

"Starchild." Kurt grounded out the name.

"Don't get me wrong." Elliott put up his hands. "I'm happy for you. It's about damn time. We'll... start practice in an hour? I'll tell Dani."

At the door though, Elliott paused, turning back to smirk. "Is an hour enough time?"

"Oh my god, go away, Elliott!" Kurt chucked a pen in his direction. Blaine didn't even know where the pen came from. Kurt was full of surprises, always.

As soon as Elliott ducked out the door, Blaine looked to Kurt and they burst out laughing.

"That was– I felt like a teenager getting caught like that," Blaine confessed when he regained his breath.

"Yeah? Am I your teenage dream, Blaine?"

Blaine leaned forward and kissed Kurt again. "What do you think?" He couldn't help it, kissed Kurt yet again, harder this time, swept high on the feeling, this amazement that he got to put his arms around Kurt, that he got to hold him.

Kurt pressed back, all heat and moans, soft hair and hard muscles. "Maybe we should have asked for two hours," Kurt said between kisses.

And Blaine couldn't help but grin. His grin morphed into a gasp when Kurt rubbed along his thighs and slid into his lap. All of a sudden, there was too much and not nearly enough – of friction, of touch, of everything, anything.

He groaned, kissing Kurt's jaw, nudging under it and down along Kurt's neck, mapping the skin with kisses, all lips and tongue, licks and sucks. "Maybe we should have."

August, hottest

"Oh Dios, is it my honeymoon or yours? You've got five minutes to get down here. Five." Santana hung up on them.

"I thought she already had her honeymoon?" Blaine frowned.

Kurt rolled his hips and Blaine shut up immediately, breath pulled tight again just like that. "Don't," Kurt sped up. "Don't do anything but just come, c'mon."

Blaine looked up at Kurt in wonder. Even like this in the predawn darkness, with the hotel curtains drawn all around them, even like this Kurt was beautiful, lyrical, a song in every line of him.

It didn't take much, not when Kurt dipped close to kiss him, wet and open mouthed, filthy yet sweet.

Blaine squeezed Kurt's shoulders and shuddered and shuddered. He would have liked to stay right there in bed with Kurt. Santana was right. It felt like a honeymoon. Only, Kurt rolled off him after one more kiss.

"We really do have to go."

Blaine knew he was right. Still. "Shower?"

Kurt's mouth rounded, as if to say no, but he hesitated and Blaine batted his eyes. "Really quick shower. I'm talking Olympic record-breaking quick."

They weren't Olympic record-breaking anything, but they made it to the van before Santana left them behind.

Dani looked up at them over the rim of her coffee cup. "Is that a hickey?"

"What else is new?" Santana glared at them.

"That hickey." Brittany grinned.

Not for the first time, Blaine wondered just how Brittany and Santana worked together as a couple. But they did. Even now Santana's mouth was softening into a smile.

Brittany rubbed her nose against Santana's, a sweet Eskimo kiss, prelude to a sweet peck. It made Blaine wistful.

Then Kurt hooked a little finger into the dangle of his, and Blaine had to hide his smile in his coffee.

~~

Austin spun hot, humid, and loud. It was one of the best crowds they've played on tour so far. Austin got them pumped late into the night.

Santana left them to it with three new demos for their next album. Everyone loved two of the songs. Problem was, they disagreed on which two. Around one AM, finally, they came to consensus on a definite yes.

As a fan, Blaine was screaming inside with excitement. A new song! An awesome new song! As a… temp? Intern? Summer pianist/vocalist? Whatever he was right now, Blaine was also screaming inside… though more from anxiety. No one had said anything about plans after the tour.

And there were only three weeks left.

Blaine tried not to think about it, tried to just live in the moment, his mind wrapped only around the music and more music and Kurt.

"You're quiet." Dani rolled a chair up to him, where he sat on the piano bench. "You okay?"

"Hey, Dani." Blaine fidgeted, shuffling the sheet music to buy some time. "I'm–"

"Oh, hey, you showed her the song yet?" Kurt bounced over, a ball of energy that had Blaine smiling despite the murmurs at the back of his mind.

"What song?" Elliott strode over and draped his arms over Dani and Kurt. Together the three of them made quite the picture – a gorgeous, gorgeous picture. Of Blaine's favorite band.

He blinked. Right. The song. "Warbler."

"You guys finished it?!"

Everyone started talking at once, fanning the energy in the room even higher. Blaine looked over at Kurt and shrugged. He knew no better way of getting attention.

He started to play, fingers finding their places on the keyboard over and over again. The outlines of notes they worked out months ago finally flowed, like do was meant to be holding re was meant to be holding mi by the hand. Like all the notes went together seamlessly.

The lyrics too. Kurt penned half the verses and Blaine the other half, to go with the chorus that they had.

"I think this should be our lead single." Dani clapped once, loud and definitive, as soon as Kurt and Blaine's impromptu demo was done. "What do you think, El?"

"I love it, but we have to see what the execs say."

"Oh, Mr. Schu will love it," Kurt said, confident.

"You know it's not Schuster I'm worried about."

"Sylvester." Dani, Elliott, and Kurt all groaned at the same time.

"Who's that?"

"You are so lucky that you don't have Sylvester in your life yet. She's all about the numbers and charts and how much money we can make for her..."

Blaine hardly heard the rest of Kurt's sentences.

Yet. He didn't have Sylvester in his life yet.

His heart pounded in his chest. He doubted he was going to sleep now, maybe ever. Anyways, not yet.

September, a bang, not a simper

Blaine must have kissed Kurt for half an hour straight before he detached himself to go home at long last. The tour was over. The band was taking a couple of weeks off. Blaine had a plane to catch.

"I'll miss you." Kurt squeezed his hands.

"I'll text you everyday," Blaine promised.

So far he'd already sent seven texts and he was still on his way to the airport. He sighed and looked out the cab window. The last three months floated by so fast, almost like a dream.

Only, it wasn't.

The new texts from Kurt said so.

You forgot your old man sweater.

The wine red one.

Blaine snorted.

Haha. My wardrobe is not THAT bad. You know you like my sweaters.

Nope. Sadly, you're mistaken. I just like you.

So, what you're saying is that you're gonna wear it.

Yep.

Blaine was still grinning like a loon when he settled into his seat on the plane.

~~

To his surprise, it was his father who picked him up from the airport.

"I had a lunch meeting out this way." So your mom made me come get you, went unsaid but understood.

Blaine didn't have much luggage nor many topics of conversation. He tried making small talk about the weather in Ohio and that new toothpaste commercial that Cooper had landed, but all the while he just wanted to scream from how much he was holding back about the tour and about Kurt. I have a boyfriend and I love him so much, dad. It was not a sentence that Blaine could fathom saying out loud. Not even my bandmates are the coolest.

"Unfortunately, Cooper's agency is based in California and unsuitable for you."

Blaine blinked. At his dad, at this sentence from his dad that came out of nowhere, at an exit sign looming green and pointing bossy to their right (which oddly made him think of Cooper).

His father continued, which was alarming in itself. Blaine was used to stretches of silence pockmarking their conversations.

"Fortunately," his dad was saying, "Ohio has some good agencies too. Your mother and I compiled a list for you."

It finally sunk in what his dad was doing. This weird olive branch delivered at high speed so that zero eye contact was required.

"Dad," Blaine started, and clutched his fingers awkwardly across his lap.

His dad kept driving, never once taking his eyes off the road.

It made it easier for Blaine to speak at least. "Thank you."

His father grunted, gruff, and that was that.

It was a million times better than Blaine had thought it was going to go.

~~

The weeks flew by even without Kurt by his side. There was just so much to do.

Still, Blaine missed Kurt like missing a note. Their text history was insane. They Skyped and Snapchatted too, and Kurt made vague references to their first date on his Twitter account.

What I wouldn't do for a popsicle right now. I'm talking epic quests to save dragons. I might even give up my copy of Vogue! #jk #notVogue #nevergivingyouup

It made Blaine miss him more.

~~

His mother saw him off at the airport, her hug ferocious. "I'm happy to see you happy, baby," she crushed him to her chest. "Tell Kurt hello and bring him next time. I want to meet your boyfriend."

Blaine blinked, stunned. Just because he checked his phone every five minutes and grinned like a loon didn't have to mean he was clearly dating Kurt.

His mom let him go. "Oh, and ask Dani what brand of hair coloring she uses. I love her blue!" She gave him a mischievous wink.

"Mom." Blaine feigned embarrassment. Or well, maybe some of it was real. But mostly, he was overwhelmed. He hugged his mom again and tried to convey all of what he was feeling.

Just to make sure though, he said it too. "I love you, mom."

She squeezed him extra hard, until he almost couldn't breathe. Strangely, it reminded him of Dani.

~~

Kissing Kurt hello was amazing. Just hugging Kurt hello was amazing. Blaine clung on and breathed him in. Kurt smelled like ten different kinds of expensive moisturizers and well, just Kurt.

"Your old man sweater itches," Kurt said.

It was enough to set Blaine to stitches. "Fine, I'll take it back then." He kissed Kurt's cheek and then neck. And then–

Well, they could always have that conversation later.

~~

"Mike Chang?" Kurt lay in his arms, warm and perfect. "Never heard of him."

"Yeah, you wouldn't." And Blaine explained why he hired Mike as his agent. Mike was unassuming and young – maybe their age or just a little older. Maybe too young. But well, Mike was an aspiring dancer who loved music, whose own father wanted him to be a lawyer or a doctor, anything non-artistic, and this was the compromise they came to, their own little contract. It spoke to everything in Blaine's heart. He trusted Mike to advocate on his behalf. He trusted Mike. None of the other candidates even came close.

"Hmm," Kurt looked at the photo of Mike mid-dance, as promoted by his own artist page at the agency. "He's kind of gorgeous." Kurt looked kind of mad.

"Wait, don't tell me you're..." Blaine trailed off, smiling to himself because the mere thought was absurd. "You can't be jealous?" No one else could ever be Kurt. "I mean, Tina's in love with Mike's abs, but that's Tina. I'm only in love with you."

It was only after the words left his mouth that Blaine realized what he did. The L word. He just said it. For the first time. While basking in the afterglow. And talking about another guy. Fuck.

He was about to take it back or somehow apologize when Kurt threw down the phone (with Mike's lean extensions on display) and turned to straddle him.

"I love you, too." Kurt held his face and shook him a little, as if Blaine needed convincing. (Maybe he did. It was still hard to believe that Kurt liked him back.) Then Kurt kissed him, maybe because he was starting to know him, to know when he needed shutting up. Needed shutting up properly.

October, for Warbler; November, Warbler in motion

To everyone's surprise, Sylvester, as in Sue Sylvester the drill sergeant who hated everybody, absolutely adored Blaine.

Well, that wasn't quite true. She had sharp words for his fashion as well as for his stature, but the very first time they met, she crushed him into a bear hug (alongside Kurt) and exclaimed, "Klaine!"

"Um." Blaine looked to Kurt for help, but Kurt's eyes were just as wide.

"My OTP! Oh, you are so cute."

After an epic monologue from her, Blaine came to understand that she loved the idea of a romance between him and Kurt and thought their are-they or are-they-not (oh, of course they are!) chemistry on stage was going to boost their popularity and bring in a boatload of money.

"So, you are going to duet. You are going to duet like you are going to do it after the concert in the privacy of your trailer like two healthy adult–"

"Okay no." Santana cut her off before Blaine's mental scar became permanent. "No, first of all, ew. However, I agree, the Klaine ship's sailing. Speaking of which, they have a new song."

"It's a duet in the beginning," Mike added in quickly.

"It's a bop," Santana carried on as if Mike hadn't said a thing. "I think it should be their lead single."

"We all think so," Mike said and actually didn't wilt under the heat of Santana's glare. It was impressive. Blaine beamed at him.

Kurt seemed less impressed. He reached over and stuck his hand in Blaine's pant pocket.

"Ah!" Triumphant, Kurt pulled out Blaine's iPod and hit play. He hit lots of things honestly, like this huge fondness button right in the middle of Blaine's chest.

~~

Within a week, their demo of "Warbler" leaked. It blew up in retweets and reblogs and even memes.

Hordes of fans dressed up in private school uniforms for Halloween, all based off of one line in the song about running down marbled corridors of a private school holding hands.

"Brilliant," was what Brittany had to say. "You should all wear tight blazers for this song. It'd be hot."

And they did. And it was.

Blaine got to hold Kurt's hand and fly down the hallway of a fancy boys' school called Dalton's or Falcon's or something Academy. (He was too busy staring at how good Kurt looked to pay much attention.)

"Imagine if we actually went here." He grinned into Kurt's ear between takes.

"On this staircase?" Kurt sounded a little breathless.

"Right here." And looking down at Kurt's upturned face, Blaine could imagine it all, this other life, this other timeline. What he couldn't imagine was a life without Kurt.

"Hey, where did you go? You got serious all of a sudden."

Blaine couldn't help it. He could see himself proposing to Kurt right here, which was too much, too fast, but also felt completely right. Light filtered down to halo Kurt's hair and he looked like the angel he always sounded in songs. Blaine could hardly breathe for the breathtaking sight. "I'm fine," he lied.

They got back to shooting the music video and the conversation got dropped.

That night, Kurt stopped kissing him just as things were getting interesting, woozy and tingly and hot.

"Ngh?" Blaine tried to chase Kurt's lips and latched onto Kurt's neck instead.

Kurt moaned – he did like the neck kissing bit a lot, as Blaine had found out with lots of practice. "Wait." Kurt pushed him off. "I can't concentrate if you're doing that."

Blaine tried not to look smug. He couldn't help smiling anyway.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!"

Kurt put a hand over Blaine's mouth anyway. "Just let me say this." He took a deep breath. "When I met you, I had sworn off love, at least for myself. I'd fallen for all the wrong people before and each time it ended it felt like a heart attack. I didn't want to have another one, you know? I didn't want to fall for you at all. But you were – you were different. You weren't like any other fan. You could have sneaked in a grope when you hugged me that first time or, I don't know, sniffed my hair, but you were so respectful. And not only that, but you're so talented and you don't even know it. You're amazing, Blaine. And I know this, us, is maybe moving a little fast, but I'm, undeniably, totally in love with you."

Kurt took another breath and uncovered Blaine's mouth.

"People grope you?"

Kurt blinked at him.

"Wait, I could have groped you that first time?"

Kurt huffed and made to get off Blaine but Blaine tugged him back. "Kidding! I'm kidding!" He cuddled him down to bed. "I love you, Kurt. I'm so in love with you." He held Kurt's hands in his and smiled so big it felt like his face might break. "I was afraid I was moving too fast too. But I'm right where you are, Kurt. I'm right here with you."

Kurt's answering smile was everything Blaine had ever wanted.

All right, he wanted the kiss that followed too. But well, this was Kurt. Blaine wanted everything.

December, I'll remember

"Right there."

"Here?"

"Don't move!"

Blaine held his pose even though he could feel his toes cramping. Kurt sat on top of him, see, and Blaine was sitting on air, in the middle of the grand staircase at the Dalton's Academy for boys.

His new sister-in-law Rachel Berry was taking their picture. It'd been three years since the Warbler music video and six months since Blaine had proposed to Kurt in this venue down on his knee.

Blaine would like to say he wasn't nervous about the wedding reception, but well. His whole family was here.

But then again, his whole family was here - Cooper, his mom, his dad, all of One Three Hill, even Santana and Brittany. Somewhere in the crowd was Mike and Tina dancing around their Mike and Tina thing. Mercedes and Sam and Artie were here dancing and singing, too. Blaine felt so blessed. Most of all, he felt blessed because of the man on his lap.

He dropped a kiss to Kurt's cheek and almost overbalanced. To compensate, he grabbed blindly for Kurt legs. Only, his hand landed kind of high.

Kurt turned to look at him. "Are you seriously groping me right now?"

Blaine could only grin. His husband was adorable, even when irritated at having to smile for so long. "I get to, right? We're married."

The smile on Kurt's lips bloomed into a genuine thing. "We're married."

Rachel showed them the picture later. It was the perfect moment, the sun on them, their foreheads resting together, their noses crinkled together in smile. It looked a bit like forever. Or, as Santana put it, "gross. So gross I wanna puke."

~~

"Finally."

"Finally."

"Alone."

"Yes."

"Kurt?" Blaine turned his hand over in the palm of his husband's, slotting their fingers neatly together.

"Yeah?" Kurt's eyes looked like a buffet of promises.

Blaine tugged him closer to better nuzzle him. "I packed something special for our honeymoon."

Kurt just looked at him.

"Not like that! It's totally innocent and romantic and gosh, stop looking at me like that before all your clothes fall off mysteriously!"

Kurt snorted at him. "Dork."

It was enough of a break in tension anyway, for Blaine to reach in the bedside desk drawer and bring out a small rectangular box.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

Kurt did, carefully, with his beautiful hands. Blaine watched him, watched until the glint of recognition lit his eyes.

"Oh my god, you kept it?"

Blaine grinned. "It was your first ever gift to me. Of course I kept it."

"You stole my pen!"

"And now we can think back fondly at the day we met as we sign in to all our hotel rooms on our honeymoon itinerary."

"Blaine, honey, people have computers these days."

"We can - I don't know - order crazy stuff off of menus with our crazy purple pen!"

"You're ridiculous." But Kurt was smiling. "I loved that pen, you know?"

"Well, that makes two of us."

"But I love you more and I would gladly exchange this pen for you anyday."

"Never happier to beat a pen."

"Shut up! You know what I meant."

"I love you more too."

And they proved it. There wasn't much shutting up though.