Chapter Text
Epilogue
“It’s gravity keeping you with me”
Easing into a relationship felt easier than breathing.
And as it turned out, Kurt had been wrong about everything. Every fantasy he’d indulged about what a relationship with Blaine could be like had been absolutely off-base.
The reality blew it all out of the water.
Blaine was loving and gentle in ways Kurt had always known, in ways Kurt had anticipated, of course. He prepared Kurt’s favorite dinners, he was a wonderful and patient listener, he indulged in yelling at the reality TV shows Kurt enjoyed, and his backrubs were legendary. But he was also thoughtful and detailed in ways that surprised Kurt, like the flowers every week, always a different arrangement and always with a poem, or the way he memorized the exact way Kurt divided his laundry, the consistently adoring Good Morning texts, and the way he so implicitly trusted Kurt with everything. And Blaine was so devoted to him, Kurt’s heart felt like bursting half the time.
They’d lived together for a few years during and after college, and so Kurt knew Blaine liked breakfast first thing in the morning, knew he arranged his shoes at the front, by the door, knew he organized his shirts by color in order of sleeve length, knew he pressed his pants every morning before leaving.
What he had never seen and absolutely loved learning was what Blaine looked like in the quiet moments after waking up, and how he could not sleep without flannel pajama pants and needed firm pillows or he’d toss and turn all night, how he had to give Kurt a kiss on the cheek before getting out of bed, or else he couldn’t start his day.
It seemed like every day he learned something new about Blaine, a new surprise about how he liked to be held, the way he preferred to be coddled on lazy Sunday mornings, how Blaine encouraged Kurt to call him out when he was being too much of a doormat.
He also learned about the things he didn’t like about Blaine that he hadn’t quite seen before, things he’d never worried about until he thought about the romantic implications — like how indecisive he was about where to eat, how quiet he could be in an argument, how defensive he got when he was uncomfortable.
It was never a dealbreaker for Kurt.
Jeremiah moved out of Blaine’s apartment swiftly, and after a week of redecorating, it was like he’d never been there. Kurt knew moving the couch and hanging a few frames wouldn’t erase three years of Blaine’s life, but it was a start.
And the way they christened the newly-replaced bed spread certainly was, as well.
There were picnics at Central Park until it got too cold, ice skating at Bryant Park and Rockefeller Center, tickets to fashion galas where Blaine got compliments on his bowties, evening recitals where Kurt cheered Blaine’s choir students, movie nights and coffee dates in the mornings, and they were almost inseparable.
When it came time for Blaine to renew his lease, three months in, he shyly asked if, well, “We live so far away, we’re spending almost every night together, and — and half my closet is already at your place, I — I don’t want to pressure you, I know you like your space, but I wanted to — I mean, only if you’re okay with me maybe asking, about like — if I…”
“Yes, Blaine?”
“…I’d like to move in with you.”
Kurt had worried it was too fast, everything was too fresh, had promised they would take it at Blaine’s pace, let him take the lead. The steps they’d already taken were so major — ending an engagement and almost immediately dating, intense in that they knew each other so well so the buffer of a first date’s awkwardness wasn’t there, but also light in that because they knew each other, they could read so easily when the other was overwhelmed. They didn’t need to have a Talk, they knew it would all be okay.
Kurt just had spent so long hoping against hope, and pushing down the hope, that Blaine could ever love him the way he wanted, he was doing everything possible to not mess this up.
They kept it a secret for as long as they could. Mostly because they were in a very private love bubble and Rachel’s honeymoon had been extended, and then she’d had a gruelingly long and arduous trial right after, but it really seemed like nobody cared.
They spent Thanksgiving with Rachel and Jessie, a quiet affair during which she squealed and hugged them and popped champagne and gifted them a couples’ massage at her favorite spa.
Christmas was, in a lot of ways, the same as in past years but also very different than others. Burt hugged Blaine for a very long time, and Carole cooed over him, making his favorite pie and including him in their family PJ tradition for Christmas Eve. The Andersons gave a very dignified toast, very pleased and proud of the two men, and were completely diplomatic about the way things happened, until Cooper heard that Blaine had ended his lease and moved into Kurt’s and jokingly called him a homewrecker.
Blaine ardently defended Kurt there, red in the face, until he realized Cooper’s drink was coming out of his nose from how hard he was laughing. He let it slide.
New Year’s was a quiet affair — Kurt’s apartment had a decently sized tub, so they lit candles and lay there, in warm water, sipping champagne, trading chocolate covered strawberries and kisses, until the clock struck twelve and they could hear the fireworks and cheers from the streets.
The newness of the relationship faded, but the magic never did. Sure, it was soon, but Kurt had observed Blaine in his previous relationships, had seen how he would settle into a new pair of arms, how he’d seem less happy after the first three months, how he’d be more reserved as he tried to mold himself to what his partner wanted.
He’d been looking for those telltale signs from the moment their lips touched.
Kurt saw the opposite. Blaine was more confident, more sure of himself in how he spoke, how he carried himself, how he advocated for himself and even got a promotion at the start of the new semester. Even how he introduced himself to Kurt’s coworkers at their first cocktail hour of the year. Blaine was more himself, more comfortable, melting into Kurt’s arms, kissing him, laughing with him over the silliest things, completely unaware of how alluring and endearing he was, how he made Kurt’s heart constrict in his chest.
He was sure he wasn’t imagining it, and after a trio dinner with Rachel, he was absolutely sure.
Rachel pulled Kurt closer the moment Blaine stepped away, going to the restroom before they paid their tab.
“Kurt, this is the happiest I’ve ever seen him,” she started. “He’s — I don’t know how to explain it, but he’s so exuberant and like, radiating happiness. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
Kurt could only blush in return.
Blaine proposed after six months.
They did end up having an October wedding at the Plaza, three short years after Rachel’s. I, Sue Sylvester planned it, of course.
I watched as Rachel, hugely pregnant and glowing with happiness, stood at the front of the hall, smiling at the intimate congregation of guests in attendance. Closest friends and family, not a single dry eye, nor anyone who hadn’t expected this day to come.
She stood in the raised center of the small room, brushing a tear out of her eye as the pianist played the opening notes of I Can’t Help Falling In Love.
Blaine walked first, in an exquisitely tailored suit he had picked out from the Vogue vault (courtesy of Isabelle, of course), a slight blush to his cheeks. He stopped right in front of Rachel, leaning to shake Burt’s hand and receive a kiss on the cheek from Carole, and then took a few steps forward until he stood just to Rachel’s right, turning his face back to the doorway.
As Kurt stepped forward, everyone could see he was radiating joy, almost visibly glowing. He took his steps slowly, deliberately, surely, like Blaine was the only thing in the world he was completely certain of.
And in a way, he was.
Pam squeezed his hand as he passed her before taking his spot at Rachel’s left, beaming at the man across from him as the pianist finished off the last notes.
Rachel smiled widely again, then cleared her throat. Jessie flashed her a wink from across the room, giving her an encouraging thumbs up.
“We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of one Kurt Hummel and one Blaine Anderson in marriage.”
Their dream weddings had always been pretty different — Kurt’s was all marble and silver, live band and tasteful pale green carnations, with a three-tier cake and a salmon dinner. Blaine’s was more of a warm-toned affair, with maroons and golds, everyone he knew invited and a DJ who could play anything and everything he wanted. But in the end, they didn’t need a huge ballroom, hundreds of guests and gifts, or even that glamorous of an evening.
And as Kurt held onto his husband, swaying to the music and touching foreheads where they could, Kurt knew all they really wanted was just each other.