I have read too much drama recently, and I wanted a little good-natured, meaningful, low-key fluff. So here it is.
I Love Us
Kurt slipped his phone out of his pocket and checked the time as he closed the apartment door behind him. 5:37 P.M. So that gave him exactly one hour and twenty-three minutes to get ready for dinner. He could manage it, if—
Before you met me, I was all right
(Because that song would always and forever remind him of Blaine.)
He slid a thumb across the screen and held the phone to his ear.
"Hi." The pitch fell at least half an octave by the end of the word.
Kurt smiled affectionately. "You managed to put a lot of misery into one syllable, there," he teased. "Bad day?"
"Like you wouldn't believe." Blaine's sigh was so loud it caused phone static. "My boss apparently has a vendetta against me today because he gave me about two days' worth of work that needs to be done by six, and Mandy quit last week, so I don't have any help. And I spilled the first batch of coffee I made on my shirt, so I had to borrow an extra from Brian 'cause I didn't have one here, and I look absolutely ridiculous because—"
"He's, like, a foot taller than you," Kurt finished, pulling off his shoes and heading into the kitchen.
"Yeah," Blaine agreed without enthusiasm.
"You can't even borrow my shirts without tucking them in…"
"Yeah," Blaine sighed. "I just want to come home and—" he stopped mid-sentence. "Dinner will be great!"
Kurt wasn't convinced. "We're cancelling," he announced.
Blaine froze for a second. It was a nice gesture, but…dinner, tonight. Oh, God. Kurt couldn't cancel. That would ruin it. "But it's our anniversary, and—"
"Blaine, it's fine, really. Have you heard about your day? We'll go tomorrow or something."
Blaine reluctantly agreed, because he honestly didn't really want to be going out to dinner tonight. He'd figure the other thing out later.
"See you in…thirty minutes?" Blaine glanced at his watch.
"Yeah." He opened the fridge and began to pull out ingredients for dinner.
"Okay. Bye. Love you."
"Love you, too."
It was 6:20 when the key turned in the lock. Kurt shook his head at Blaine's luck; traffic must have been bad on the subway. He tilted his head to the side as shoes collided roughly with the ground (that was odd, Blaine usually took care to place them exactly) and then paused in his work as heavy footfalls grew closer. That, too, was unusual. Blaine typically changed before joining him in the kitchen.
He felt arms wrap tightly around him from behind and a face nestle quickly into the crook of his neck. He reached a hand behind him and tangled his fingers gently into his boyfriend's hair.
"Your bad day got worse," he observed, abandoning his work.
"Mm" was Blaine's muffled response. "It's raining, and I had to walk, and I got soaked." Air gushed past his neck from Blaine's long-suffering sigh.
"I can tell," Kurt pulled his fingers through a few curls. "You're hair's wet."
Blaine tensed a little. "Did I get you wet? I'm sorry. I thought it was mostly on my raincoat, but-"
"Whatever," Kurt shrugged. He gestured to the food he was preparing, "I cancelled our dinner reservations. I don't mind that they got messed up, Blaine," He leaned back into their embrace. "We'll just go some other night."."
Blaine forehead lifted off Kurt's shoulder. "Wait, how did you know where I made them?"
Kurt turned in Blaine's arms at the disproportionate response. He smiled warmly. "Blaine, honey, we've been dating for eight years. I can guess your plans fairly easily."
Blaine's heart skipped a beat guiltily. Wow, they were terrible at keeping secrets from each other. How much, exactly, had he guessed?
He sighed and buried his head back into Kurt's neck. "You really, really didn't need to do that, Kurt. But thank you." Blaine's (former) plan for dinner weighed heavily on his mind as he pressed a kiss to Kurt's neck.
"Mm, anytime." Kurt ran a hand through the curls above his ear. "Your favorite spicy soup, a musical, and snuggling on the couch?"
"Oh, yes, please." Blaine kissed Kurt lightly on the lips. "You're amazing."
Kurt returned the kiss, and with a playful grin replied, "I know."
Blaine laughed a little, and his expression lightened, which had been Kurt's intention. "You go get out of those ill-fitted and wet clothes and pick the movie; I'll finish."
Blaine relinquished his grip on his boyfriend. "Fair enough. But no complaining if you don't like the movie I pick."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Blaine, we have exactly the same taste in movies."
"True. True. We're a peaceful domestic dream." Bad Blaine. Saying things like that will give you away.
Kurt laughed as he turned back to the stove. "Or something like that."
Once he wasn't wearing damp clothes and a shirt about twice his normal size, Blaine began to freak out a little more than he had been. This day, which was supposed to go smoothly and result in a very nice dinner with Kurt and him asking his boyfriend of eight years a rather particular question, had ended in (almost) complete disaster. He hadn't really had a way out of cancelling dinner, because that would have been an obtrusively odd way to react to a caring gesture that he had accepted countless times in other situations. And he hadn't really wanted to go anyway, because he was exhausted and drenched and in a bad mood. But then, he reflected as he skimmed through their DVD collection, how was he going to ask what he had been planning to ask, now?
He was still pondering that conundrum as he put in "Singin' in the Rain" and Kurt entered with two bowls of soup. He handed one off to his boyfriend.
"'Singin' in the Rain', huh," he observed, sinking into the couch and tossing the napkins he had brought onto the coffee table. He looked at Blaine. "You okay?"
Blaine nodded perhaps a little too quickly and took a bite of soup. "Mm, wonderful, as always."
Kurt grinned at his expression. "Flattery always gets you too far, Blaine Anderson," he observed, though he didn't sound sorry at all. Blaine's response was to slide closer to his boyfriend and press play; Kurt decided to leave it alone for now.
Once they had both finished eating, they stretched out next to each other, arms entangled, and continued to watch. They sang "Singin' in the Rain" and "Good Mornin'" with the characters. Blaine laughed at Kurt's impersonation of Lina Lamont's voice. ("I make more money than Calvin Coolidge, put together!" "I can't stand 'im") and joined in when they imitated the lines through the section where the film roll breaks. Kurt crowed in his highest voice. "No, no, no!" And Blaine replied in a deep baritone. "Yes, yes yes,"
By the time the credits were rolling, both were asleep.
Blaine opened his eyes to a dark room, the reflection of a blank blue screen, and his boyfriend's soft breaths wasping across his face. He took a moment to remember why they were here, then wrestled an arm out from under Kurt and reached for the remote to turn off the TV. 2:22 A.M. his watch read. He sighed and settled further into the cushions. They were facing each other, their noses barely six inches apart, their arms and legs tangled. God, how on earth did his boyfriend manage to look so beautiful in disgusting street lamp light after sleeping on a couch for four hours? He reached a hand through the minute space dividing them and brushed a piece of Kurt's hair out of his eyes. Kurt stirred, and Blaine thought he had woken him, but he simply nuzzled adorably closer to Blaine in his sleep. Blaine smiled and settled his arms back around his boyfriend. God, he was so in love with him.
That train of thought brought a question to his mind that he really should've asked and answered weeks ago. Why should it matter how, or when, or where he asked? Would Kurt honestly care? Did he care?
His thoughts were interrupted as Kurt's eyes began to open. A few of his fingers trailed along the arm that lay across his stomach and then stopped when he saw that Blaine's eyes were also open. "Mm, we fell asleep here."
"Yes, we did," Blaine agreed, speaking softly to avoid breaking the peaceful mood.
Kurt traced a hand along Blaine's collarbone. "Are you sure you're all right? Before, you seemed...I don't know, distracted?"
"Hm? Oh, it was nothing…"
Kurt didn't look convinced. "What is it?" He ran a few fingers through his boyfriend's hair in comfort.
To hell with it, Blaine thought.
"I was," he conceded. Kurt's gaze was open and encouraging.
"Kurt, there was a particular reason I didn't want our reservations cancelled today." Blaine furrowed his brow a little in retrospection. "This suits us better, I think, anyway." He smoothed the back of his hand along Kurt's forehead.
"Kurt, we're so perfect for each other. I look forward to this, to all the time we spend together, each day. And I love walking into the house knowing that you'll be standing in the kitchen making something more ridiculously good than is fair, and knowing that I'll get to hear your voice, and knowing that you're waiting for me to come, and knowing that if I've had a particularly bad day, you'll be totally okay with dumping our dinner reservations and watching a movie at home." He paused to press a kiss to Kurt's forehead. "I love that we're so comfortable and honest with each other and that you're both my boyfriend and my best friend. "
Kurt's eyes lit up. "I love all of those things, too," he half whispered. "I love you. I love us."
"Me too," Blaine breathed. "Kurt, marry me?"
Kurt's face broke into a beautiful smile. He kissed Blaine's nose. "Absolutely."
Then, Kurt started laughing. Gently, but unmistakably.
Blaine looked confused. Where on earth was that coming from?
"Were you going to ask me during dinner?" Kurt guessed.
Blaine looked almost afraid and a little sheepish. "Yeah, why? Too cheesy?"
Kurt barked out another laugh and shifted so that he was above Blaine on the couch. He placed a hand on each side of Blaine's face. "I was going to ask you."
They laughed, their fingers twisting together. Blaine lifted up to touch their foreheads for a second. "We're ridiculous."
Kurt smiled and let his forehead drop back onto Blaine's. "We really are."
Blaine tilted and caught Kurt's lips in a kiss. He ran his hand up Kurt's arm and onto his neck as Kurt tilted his head to make the kiss more firm, one of his own hands tangled into the base of Blaine's hair, his fingers tracing soft patterns on his scalp and neck. Their chests were both heaving when they broke apart.
Blaine lifted his head off the armrest and connected their lips again briefly. "I thought—I thought it mattered where I asked, or when." He shook his head and ran a hand along Kurt's cheek. "But it only matters why."
"Mhm." Kurt's hands came to frame his jaw. "I love you. And you make me really, really happy."
Blaine smiled. "I love you. And you make me really, really happy, too."
They had to wait until seven to call Burt and Carol. Because Ohio was in central time and they were in eastern and no news was exciting at one in the morning. Burt sounded sleepy and confused when he picked up the phone. "Kurt?"
"Hi dad," Kurt squeaked.
"You sound excited about something." Burt knew his son, even in his sleepy state.
"Get on Skype," Kurt directed. "I want to tell you this face-to-face."
Burt grunted, and Kurt heard the sound of him throwing off the blankets and sitting at his computer. It took about fifteen seconds to connect. Kurt's had been set up for hours.
"Blaine proposed, dad," he said.
Burt grinned into the camera. Carol came to stand behind him. "Oh, congratulations, honey!"
Burt studied his son for a second. "I thought you were going to…"
Kurt laughed. "Long story."
Carol searched the background. "Blaine? You there?"
Blaine stepped closer to the computer so they could see him.
Burt smirked. "Congratulations, kid."
"So," Carol requested, "let's hear it. What did he say?"
Kurt launched into a detailed play-by-play of their 2-am conversation. Blaine and Burt's eyes met at one point and they grinned and rolled their eyes, as if to say, What can you do? Still love 'em. Kurt caught it and turned his head to smile bemusedly at his best friend for a second, his eyes flashing with mirth. Hazel eyes danced in response.
Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand briefly when they hung up and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. When he returned with two mugs, he was greeted by a beaming Rachel Berry, who waved enthusiastically when she saw him. Oh, it's gonna be a long morning, Blaine thought. He set a mug down in front of Kurt and was rewarded with a grateful smile, which he returned. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.