Come What May
Kurt Hummel couldn't have been happier. He lived in the city he adored, had the career he'd always dreamed of, and he was married to the most talented, beautiful man on the face of the earth. He sighed, looking out the window of their flat overlooking Manhattan, smiling as the sun hit his face.
He turned, looking back at Blaine, who was still sound asleep. His curls were a mess, sprawled out on the pillow beneath his head, his bare torso almost glowing in the early morning sun. He smiled again. Five years, they'd been married and he still loved him just as much as the first day he met him. He sighed, setting down his coffee cup and going to him. He slid over him, kissing his cheek.
"Bla-aine," he sang. Blaine groaned. "Wake up, baby." Blaine shook his head, hiding his face in the pillow.
"It's too early," he moaned. Kurt kissed his cheek and his ear.
"Come o-on," he whined. "You said you'd take me to breakfast before your audition today."
Blaine sighed and rolled over, leaving Kurt to lie on his chest. He smiled softly, holding his cheek. "You are such a morning person," he cooed, eyes sleepy. Kurt nodded, kissing him.
"Breakfast," he chirped. Blaine giggled.
"Alright, alright," he said, sitting up. "Fifteen minutes, okay?"
"Okay," he grinned.
Blaine showered and changed while Kurt checked the weather and got their coats. "Come on! I'm starving!" He demanded. Blaine shrugged into his coat, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck.
"Alright, alright!" He chuckled. "Such a diva…"
"Hey, I have to work at eleven and your audition's at noon. I'd like to spend some time with my husband before we have to spend months apart again."
"Alright," Blaine sighed, smiling. He pulled him into his arms, hugging him and resting his forehead against his. "You're luck you're so cute." Kurt smirked.
"So are you. Now let's go."
Blaine looked up at the studio, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard. "I don't know if I can do this." He said, shaking his head. Kurt squeezed his shoulders.
"If you don't get in there and show them everything that you can do I'm making you cook dinner for a month," he snapped.
"Babe, I can't cook!" he exclaimed. Kurt smiled.
"That's the point. Now go!"
"Honey, this isn't some community theatre thing or an audition at Six Flags, this is Broadway. More importantly, this is 'Chicago,' I can't screw this up. You and I both know that-"
"…Being Billy Flynn is your dream role. Yes, I know, darling," he smiled. "Which is why you're going to fantastic and get this part. I know you will."
"Kurt, there are so many experienced actors that are going to be in there, and I've never gotten anything other than a chorus member, it-"
"Shh!" Kurt pressed his fingers to his lips. "Now," he kissed him, causing a blush to rise to Blaine's cheeks. "get in there and show them what you can do." Blaine nodded, still a little drunk from his kiss.
"I'll be next door, okay?" He pointed to the theatre beside them. "Maybe they'll be able to dance the steps I tell them to by opening night." He turned, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. Blaine looked back at the door in front of him, took another breath, and went inside.
Three days later…
"KURT!" Blaine sprinted toward him, grinning from ear-to-ear, dimples deep in his cheeks. He hoisted him up, spinning him around, laughing and smiling.
"Blaine, what?" Kurt exclaimed. Blaine paused, still holding him off the ground, still smiling.
"I DID IT!" He grinned. Kurt smiled back, his eyes bright.
"YOU DID?" They kissed, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Blaine spun him around some more, unbelievably elated. "We have to celebrate."
Somehow, Blaine's smile grew. "Absolutely."
Dinner didn't last long. Blaine blamed Kurt for that.
He kept smiling softly, allowing his dimples to come out to play, leaning on his hand and babbling away in that beautiful, bell-like voice. Blaine was hanging on to his every word, entranced. His eyes glowed in the candlelight, sending sparks through those basins of blue. His skin was flawless and gorgeous as ever, the scarf draped so gracefully around his neck just begging to reveal the glorious neck underneath it.
"Honey," Kurt said, barely brushing his fingers against the back of his hand. "Are you listening to me?"
Blaine's heart raced at the touch of his skin. "Yes…of course," he said, shaking his head. "Those ungrateful little heathens don't appreciate being pushed to their limits so they know what they can do."
"Right, and…" He continued on, not noticing the dreamy, blissful look on Blaine's face.
His appetite had changed drastically. The filet the waiter placed in front of him had no chance in holding his interest with this beautiful creature in front of him.
"Aren't you hungry?" Kurt asked, mid-bite. Blaine shook his head, coming back to himself.
"Yeah, sorry," he cut through the steak, blushing. "I'm, um, a little distracted."
It took Kurt a moment, but he understood. He blushed, staring down at the pasta. "So…?"
Blaine leaned forward, his eyes intense, wetting his lips. "All I've been able to think about since we got here is what I'm going to do to you when I get you home."
Kurt's eyes were wide, his cheeks a deep magenta. "Should I ask for the check and a to-go box?"
Blaine tossed money on the table and stood, grabbing Kurt's coat and his hand. "Forget the box, we'll order Chinese later."
Coats and shoes hit the floor. Vests fluttered to the ground and Kurt's neck was finally freed from it's scarf –ed prison. Blaine attacked it, suckling on that soft, sweet porcelain. Kurt dragged his hands down Blaine's back, almost trying to rip through his dress shirt. Blaine sighed, breaking away from Kurt's neck.
Kurt pushed him back on the bed, quickly falling on top of him and popping the buttons open on his shirt. He kissed up his stomach, nudging his tie away with his nose when he reached it. He grabbed the knot when he reached his lips, tugging him up, his eyes and lips absolutely hungry for him.
Blaine's lungs tried to keep up with his thundering heart, so unbearably turned on by the dominance Kurt showed. He shrugged out of his shirt, moving to take the tie from Kurt's hand.
"Leave it on," he growled. Blaine let go, obeying instantly. Kurt kept the silk in his hand, still tugging as he kissed him passionately, bringing a blush to his own cheeks. He allowed Blaine to take off his sweater, leaving his skin bare. He himself was toying with Blaine's sides, touching his ribs with just the brush of his fingertips.
"Kurt," he gasped, leaning his head back. Kurt brushed his lips against his Adam's Apple, making him shiver, his tie still wrapped around his hand. The dark-haired man ran his fingers through his thick hair, barely trailing his hands down his back before moving to his chest.
Kurt shuddered when Blaine's hands slid inside his pants, cupping his cheeks, groping desperately. His breath hitched, connecting their lips again. "Blaine!"
Soon they were naked and tangled together, gasping, sweating, connected. Blaine managed to open his eyes, looking directly into Kurt's, chests heaving. He kissed him, holding the side of his beautiful face, stifling whimpers and moans from the both of them.
They broke apart, foreheads pressed together, breaths hot on each other's faces. Blaine laced his fingers in Kurt's, never looking away from him. Faster and faster, heat building, stifling, screams getting louder and louder and then-
Everything was still. They each gasped for air, relaxing, a blissful calm settling over them. They kissed, soft and lazy, hands still held tight.
"I love you," Blaine whispered. Kurt leaned up and kissed him again.
"I love you too."
Two Months Later…
Kurt bobbed into the theatre, smiling with the full intent of surprising his husband. He'd been done with his choreography project next door and was left with all the time in the world to see him. He'd been here nearly every day for the past two weeks, watching Blaine put the directors and even the other cast members under that charming spell of his as he performed spectacularly.
Speaking of the director…
He made Kurt uncomfortable. He was nearly always staring at him, and if they passed in a hall or some enclosed space he always managed to be too close. His name was Roland Broussard, a highly successful, highly esteemed director with a lot of money and even more connections.
"He wants you," a friend of Kurt's, Elizabeth said. She'd won the lovely part of the Hunyak in this production, and was doing quite well. Her love of Patti LuPone and designer clothing had caught Kurt's attention, and they'd hit it off quite well.
"Oh, please," he scoffed. "He knows good and well that I'm married."
She snorted, taking a long swig of water. "Honey, he's Roland Broussard, and he always gets what he wants because he feels like he's entitled to it." Kurt pursed his lips, shaking his head.
"Well, he's not getting me, that's for sure. He's not even cute," he scowled. She laughed.
"Amen!" She toasted the air.
"And isn't he like, forty something?" He asked. She nodded. "Great, and he's twice my age."
"Excuse me, Mr., eh, Hummel, is it?" Kurt turned.
"Speak of the devil," Liz mumbled.
"It's Anderson, actually," Kurt corrected, expression blank. Roland smiled.
"Yes, I'm sorry, could I speak to you for a moment?" Kurt glanced back at Liz, who shrugged.
"Certainly," Kurt said, following him, giving Liz one more look before he disappeared around the corner.
He never had a chance.
He was slammed against the wall, unfamiliar lips pressed over his mouth, strong hands holding him down and keeping him still. He yanked away from the assault, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes from the violation. He looked up at Roland, shaking a little, horrified.
"Get away from me!" He exclaimed, trying to squirm away from him.
"Stop," Roland hissed, mouth beside his ear, holding him tighter.
"Ow," Kurt breathed, turning his head away again.
"Listen to me, listen," he slammed him against the wall once more, making him submit. "Let's think a moment. I'm Roland Broussard. I can give you whatever you could possibly want. All you have to do is give me you."
"I-I'm married," he choked, helpless. Roland grinned.
"That's never stopped anyone before."
"No!" Kurt snapped, trying to be braver than he felt. "I don't want anything from you. Let me go!" Roland scowled, pressing against him.
"You want to play it that way?" He snarled. "Fine. You either let this happen, or I fire your husband." The air left Kurt's lungs, making him shake. "And this is his dream, isn't it? He's wanted this since he was just a kid, hasn't he? I can take that all away and make sure he can never get a job in this town ever again. He'll barely be able to bus tables at a dinner theatre when I'm through with him."
Kurt shut his eyes. This meant so much to Blaine. This was his dream. Blaine had already sacrificed so much for him. Kurt had watched as one of his own dreams came true and Blaine had stepped back from his own. He'd done so much… He couldn't imagine taking this away from him. He wouldn't be able to stand the look on his face if this was all snatched away from him. He wouldn't be able to take how upset he would be, how depressed…especially if he could've prevented it. He didn't have a choice.