Title: You're All I Want, You're Everything
Author: an-alternate-world
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Word count: 9,122
Summary: GKM Prompt. Kurt has always had a secret loathing of his body, which has only gotten worse as Blaine has gotten increasingly successful. After a confrontation at work, Blaine attempts to reassure Kurt that he's perfect as he is.
Warnings/Spoilers: Triggers for body issues, but fairly mild.
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the Glee universe.

As usual for when I fill GKM Prompts, you can find the original prompt at the bottom of the page so I don't give away the entire plot before writing...unless you want that sort of thing.

Kurt flicked through the magazine, grabbing his scissors to snip out people or outfits he particularly liked and taping them into his scrapbook with tape from the dispenser. It was only mid-afternoon and Blaine wouldn't be home for another few hours, which gave him plenty of time to take part in his secret ritual of examining other people and criticising himself. He paused on a particularly well-fitted jacket, wondering if it would wrap around him and hide the flab of his stomach or worse, expose it, gripping at the fat that hung on his hips and showing to the world that Kurt Hummel had gained some weight since finishing high school and college. With a sigh, he discarded the destroyed magazine to the table, glancing through the pictures from different magazines, different seasons, different years, and finding himself filled with a sense of dread and self-loathing. There had been a time when Kurt had walked with his head high and his clothing impeccable, trying to channel some of what the runway models in New York or Milan had looked like and pretend he felt more confident than he actually was.

He picked up the stuffed scrapbook, making a mental note to get a new one soon, and tucked it into the back of the closet behind several shoeboxes. He made sure that it was carefully and completely concealed before closing the door and pausing in front of the full-length mirror that stood in the corner of the bedroom he shared with Blaine. It was a non-descript, non-threatening mirror that didn't talk back when he asked him who the fairest of all was, but it didn't really need to, because Kurt had the voice in his head that kept him company during the times he felt so utterly lost and angry with himself.

Staring at his reflection, he pressed the buttons of his shirt through the holes until it fell open, pale skin looking paler against the white cotton he'd worn that day. He shrugged it off and trailed his finger along the curve of his stomach, poking the fat and hating it, wishing he could just slice it away with a knife from the kitchen and being that strong, confident boy he'd once paraded around pretending to be. And Blaine, Blaine, who deserved someone so much more attractive to be on his arm at premiere parties and who still looked as stunning as he had as a teenager, only better, because the mixed work he did as a stagehand and as an actor on Broadway allowed him to develop wiry and lean muscles, veins snaking along his arms and disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt where Kurt was fully aware he had a set of tight abdominals because he fell asleep most nights with his head pillowed against Blaine's chest, his hand on the dusting of hair that covered Blaine's stomach. His jawline had gotten stronger of the years and he'd stopped using such copious amounts of gel which allowed his hair to naturally fall into soft, gentle waves over his head and God, Kurt sounded like a jealous, jilted lover rather than a happily married man but Blaine had achieved his dreams – which wasn't to say Kurt wasn't in the process of working on his – and he had kept in shape and Kurt had… He'd let himself go and it just filled him with so much guilt and shame that he wasn't a better husband for Blaine.

He wasn't sure what he hated the most when he gazed at himself. Even through the fabric, he could tell his thighs were too large. His stomach was flabby and his hips were squishy. His arms wobbled with fat rather than stayed firm with muscle like Blaine's. He was even developing what appeared to be a double chin, which was especially obvious when he smiled, which was perhaps why he did so rarely these days. The definition of his jaw had faded and his cheeks bulged and were frequently flushed with exertion that wouldn't have bothered him ten years ago. He scowled at his reflection, wanting to punch the glass and shatter the illusion that obviously captivated Blaine because he was nothing beautiful or attractive anymore and one day, probably soon, Blaine was going to realise that and leave, because Blaine lived in a world where appearance was everything and Kurt's world was more focused on making people look attractive.

He could hear Mrs Henderson down the corridor arriving home and figured he had another hour before Blaine would get home from his latest rehearsal. His fingers ran over the cotton of his shirt before he pulled it back on, turning away with a hateful glare and buttoning the shirt back up until he looked perfectly unruffled and put together. What a lie, what a lie.

He busied himself waiting for Blaine by starting on dinner, deciding that he really needed to lose some weight and gain back the body Blaine had fallen in love with before he lost Blaine instead of pounds. It wouldn't be too hard. He'd drink less coffee, have a slice of dry toast in the morning, skip lunch – which wasn't much different from a busy day but he'd make a more concerted effort to avoid it – and have salads for dinner. On days he knew Blaine wouldn't be home until late, he could get a workout done at a local gym or just walk around the block or do exercise in the tiny living room after clearing away the breakables and with his decreased caloric intake, he was sure it wouldn't take long for him to return to someone better, someone more deserving of Blaine's love.

He heard Blaine come home, returned his call that he was in the kitchen finishing up. Blaine grinned at him as he entered the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Kurt from behind and nuzzling his face into the crook of Kurt's neck.

"I love you so much," Blaine hummed, kissing beneath Kurt's ear. "I'll be right back, okay? I want to change into something more comfortable."

Kurt nodded and waved him away, grateful to not have Blaine's hands on him because even if he avoided saying anything about what he saw when they had sex, Kurt knew that eventually it would become too obvious that he'd put on weight and Blaine would feel it and make a comment. It wouldn't even be too harsh, because Blaine was someone sweet and couldn't say anything wrong, but it would be enough to indicate to Kurt that he'd put on weight and Blaine knew and Blaine would start to harbour a similar disgust to what Kurt already felt.

Blaine returned and Kurt handed him the plate with his dinner on it while Blaine frowned at Kurt's. "You aren't eating much."

Kurt shrugged and pushed the basic salad he'd made around his plate. "I wasn't all that hungry. I had a big lunch and then I saw the most fabulous coat on the way home but I know I'd look better in it if I lost a few pounds."

Blaine looked as though he wanted to say something further but refrained, his hand reaching over the table to cover Kurt's. "I love you."

Kurt smiled, wondering if it looked as weak to Blaine as it felt on his face. "I love you too. What happened today at the theatre?"

Blaine launched into a story, filling it with lavish details and mocking the accents of those he worked with enough that Kurt smiled shyly and even giggled once during the tale. For any minor complaint Blaine had about his work colleagues, they gave him a job and allowed him to live out his dreams treading painted floorboards with elaborate backdrops in the hope of finally landing The Big Role.

Blaine cleared the plates, shushing Kurt into silence when he tried to protest and sending him to the couch to relax. Faintly disgruntled but secretly pleased, he curled up around a pillow and let the pictures from the television wash over him in a blurred haze. He barely even noticed when Blaine scooted in behind him, repositioning Kurt so his head rested on Blaine's thigh, until Blaine's fingers gently carded through his hair and the tension in his shoulders began to ease. He let out a contented hum as his eyes drifted shut, Blaine soothing his anxieties away until he almost forgot about them.

His plan of toast and salad worked for the first ten or so pounds, but increasingly he felt exhausted and run-down. He knew that it was probably the decrease in food but he also knew he had to battle through it, because he didn't want to lose his hard work simply because he was hungry for crying out loud. He found that drinking water instead of coffee helped trick his stomach into thinking it was full and the clawing desperation for lunch passed easier. The only downside so far had been that Blaine hadn't commented so far on the lost weight but Kurt thought that was probably because it wasn't really noticeable. The scales at work told him he'd shed the pounds, but his twice-weekly ritual of ripping apart magazines and prodding and pressing had shown him that wherever the weight had disappeared from, it wasn't anywhere it needed to be gone from. His belly looked just as saggy and awful as ever and he still had bunches of fat if his jeans were too tight. And he'd already gone up a size since leaving high school! It just wasn't acceptable and he knew he had to work harder.

He started offering to do lunch runs for the others at work, craving the extra exercise and pretending he'd eaten his sandwich already on the walk back. He'd get off the subway a stop earlier than necessary and walk the extra distance home and take the stairs rather than the elevator to his sixth-floor apartment with Blaine.

Blaine continued to frown at Kurt's reduced meal portions but didn't dare comment, remembering a time during college that Kurt had thirds of a particular meal and then grown hysterical later that night with the weight he was going to put on. He wondered what Kurt was doing, what was going through his mind and why he was starting to insist on wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt to bed. It was like they were back in high school, when Kurt had blushed at the idea of sleeping naked after they'd had sex and insisted on putting clothes back on. Except they wouldn't even have sex anymore. Kurt would step out of the bathroom fully dressed, yawning and saying he was too tired, or that his arms hurt from carrying bags around for someone all day, or his legs ached from crouching and adjusting the hemline on a dress. There was always an excuse and it reminded Blaine of those movies where the wife would feign any sort of excuse to get out of having sex with her husband before she left him. The idea made his heart twist a little and he clutched Kurt against his chest tighter, breathing against his neck and whispering over and over how much he loved Kurt until exhaustion claimed him and he fell asleep.

Once, he'd asked about the coat Kurt had seen which spurred his latest attempt at losing some weight but Kurt's eyes had shadowed, falling to his plate as he muttered that it had sold out. Blaine tried to get him to smile, because it was only a coat and Kurt already had at least two dozen and there would surely be another that he fell in love with just as much, but Kurt had shrugged and pushed his plate away with disinterest. Blaine didn't think he could blame Kurt because the salads he'd been eating for the past three weeks hadn't deviated in their blandness and it had to be getting boring, but he couldn't help biting his lip at the way Kurt's eyes looked so distant and tired. He knew Kurt wasn't sleeping well because he often felt Kurt stirring in the middle of the night, little cries falling from his lips until Blaine shook him enough that the nightmare escaped from behind Kurt's eyes and he snuggled back into Blaine's arms. At other times, he felt the bed shift as Kurt shuffled to go to the bathroom to relieve himself and Blaine pawed at the fading warmth of the sheets until his husband returned and pressed their bodies together again.

When it entered the fourth week since Kurt's obsession with salads had begun, Blaine noticed the dark X on the calendar and smiled as his thumb brushed over the date. He couldn't believe it had been ten years since he'd been stopped by Kurt on the steps of Dalton and asked for directions, couldn't believe that someone so beautiful and stunning had quite literally stopped him in his tracks while he tried to gain some form of coherent thought back. He'd organised a day off from the theatre but pretended to be going to work anyway, kissing Kurt's cheek as he chewed on a slice of toast and reminding him of how much he was loved.

For Kurt, the day was meant to be something wonderful, something that made him feel lighter and freer as he remembered meeting Blaine a decade ago. Instead, it was a day of torment as his supervisor reamed him for not having Miss Jennier's dress done and Mr Burlam's suit tailored and trashing the sketches he'd been working on for a month. Sebastian held up picture after picture, asking what had possessed him to draw such pathetic designs and demanding to know if he'd faked his qualifications from Parson's because surely they wouldn't have allowed someone so terrible to graduate.

He held his hand over his mouth, refusing to cry in front of the self-entitled jerk, even when he started picking apart Kurt's own clothing style, which Kurt had always prided himself on.

"I mean, surely you know those pants need to be a size larger, Kurt? Are you utterly delusional in what you look like? You look like you can't decide whether to be male or female so you try to mix patterns and shapes that don't flatter you or anyone else!" Sebastian said, tossing Kurt's sketchbook across his workspace and shaking his head. "I see your husband in the tabloids. It's a good thing he has his own stylist because he'd never want someone like you to dress him."

Kurt whimpered behind his hand, his eyes staring down at the pristine white table and swallowing the sobs that he just wasn't going to shed.

"And God, Kurt. Why would someone like him choose someone like you anyway? It's probably because he feels sorry for you. How long has it been?" Sebastian sneered and leaned over the table. "It doesn't matter, because the answer is too long. He's too good for you and one of these days, he'll wake up and realise he married a slob. A slob who is lazy and untalented and who can't even dress himself let alone design clothes we'd even entertain making."


Kurt's head snapped up at the sight of Blaine storming through the work area, his face looking furious as he shoved Sebastian backwards into a wall.

"Don't you dare talk to him like that, do you hear me?"

"Speaking of the devil," Sebastian drawled, gaze shifting between Blaine and Kurt and looking entirely unfazed. "Is that a Ralph Lauren shirt? My my, even they do a better job of outfitting you than Kurt could hope to do. What's it like being married to someone who doesn't support you or pay the bills?"

Kurt saw Blaine's hand rising but knew he was powerless to stop it. The smack stunned his quiet sobs into total silence as Sebastian staggered and clutched his cheek.

"Wow. Quite a punch you pack there. Pity Kurt isn't feistier, although I guess him being so overweight means it's a struggle for him."

Kurt flinched at the venom in Sebastian's eyes, stumbling off his stool and out of his wretched workplace as Blaine punched Sebastian in the gut and winded him.

He wasn't sure where he was going, where he wanted to go, he just needed to get away and out. He caught Holly's pitying look as he shoved past her out the front door and started to run down the street, tears blurring his vision as he fought to just escape. He yelped when he rolled his ankle over a crack in the pavement, shrieked when a cab appeared out of nowhere with its horn blaring at him, but he kept moving, kept running, just trying to put distance between him and Sebastian because it hurt, oh God it hurt. Sebastian had finally voiced Kurt's fears and now that Blaine had the idea planted in his head, it would grow and manifest until Blaine began to resent him and then ultimately leave him like Kurt had always fretted. And today, of all damn days! It felt like some cruel stab of fate to bring them together and sow the seed that would tear them apart on the same date.

He stumbled into an entrance of Central Park, collapsing against the grass as he struggled to breathe through the anguish of Sebastian's words. He'd worked on those sketches for months and the others in the office had been really encouraging, but they must have been lying to him and Kurt had been kidding himself to think Sebastian would be interested in them anyway. He curled his knees to his chest, mindful of his ankle which was aching in his shoe, and cried until he wasn't sure he had any tears left. He must have looked such a stupid sight, a huddle beneath a tree in the middle of the afternoon, but no one approached him and Kurt was both relieved and hurting because it was like high school all over again, when no one took the time to see if he was okay. Honestly, if he was worth so little, maybe he should have stepped in front of a bus on his fleeing trip here so Sebastian could hire someone else more talented and Blaine could find someone else more attractive and deserving and it'd just save everyone a whole lot of trouble.

As he fought to get his breathing under control, he became aware of the vibration in his pants. It took him a moment for it to register that it was his phone and not something far weirder and more awkward to try and explain as he fumbled to slide it out of his pocket. He saw Blaine's name flash across the screen and a sob bubbled out of his mouth as he tried to swallow down the hurt and pressed the answer button.

"Kurt? Where are you?" Blaine sounded so frantic, so worried, that Kurt almost broke down again.

"Central Park. Somewhere. I dunno. I just ran and I hurt my ankle," he cried, tucking his knees tighter and hiccupping into the phone. God, he probably sounded awful.

"Shh, okay baby. Look around. Tell me what you see. There must be something you recognise."

Kurt stared at the buildings around him and inhaled deeply. "There's the ABC studio up a little from me and this church across the road. It might be that Lutheran one? Between 65th and 66th West I think. Maybe?"

"Okay, okay. That's not far. I want you to stay there," Blaine commanded, his voice gentle and Kurt could hear the rush of traffic around Blaine and imagined him trying to cross against the lights to get there faster. "Keep your shoe on because I don't want it to swell and have you walk around New York City without a shoe on, alright?"

Kurt nodded before realising Blaine couldn't see him. "Okay."

"I'll be there soon, alright? Just…stay calm. I love you."

Kurt mumbled an 'I love you' back but Blaine had already hung up. Kurt wriggled backwards, careful not to put too much weight on his injured foot as he found a tree to lean against. He twisted his phone in his hands, fidgeting and anxious, wondering what would happen at work on Monday. For once, he was actually glad that it was a Friday and he didn't have to face Sebastian and his stupid face for three days. Still, he didn't know how violent Blaine had gotten after he'd left and there was sure to be resentment for being assaulted by Kurt's husband, Kurt's husband who was also half a foot shorter than Sebastian but also with a name that could bring Sebastian's world down around his head if Blaine spoke to a few people here and there, tarnishing Sebastian's reputation and ultimately spoiling his complete career before it had even truly begun. Part of Kurt wanted to allow Blaine to do it, but another part, the larger part, wasn't as callous and heartless as to screw over another human being, even when they were an ass like Sebastian.

He looked up at the same time as Blaine spotted him, pushing past a lady with a pram and a dog, as he hurried over the grass and fell to his knees beside Kurt. He dropped the bag of Kurt's things he'd grabbed on the way out and gathered Kurt into his arms, cradling him and pressing kisses to the top of Kurt's head as Kurt started crying and clinging to Blaine's shirt.

"I'm so sorry," he babbled softly. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen or heard that. He's not usually so awful although I'm not sure you can be awful with the truth and-"

"Wait, what?" Blaine drew back, tilting Kurt's head up with a firm pressure to his chin. "Truth?"

Kurt dropped his eyes, his stomach churning into knots as Blaine forced Kurt to meet his gaze.

"What are you talking about, Kurt? What truth? Nothing he said was in any way honest or truthful."

He looked so earnest, so stricken, at how Kurt felt that it felt like Kurt's heart was breaking apart in his chest, like a piece of glass that was shattering into a million incredibly painful pieces.

"He was just telling me what I already knew," Kurt whispered, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I don't deserve you. I'm not attractive and I'm not famous or renowned and I'm not worthy of your time or-"

"Stop." Blaine shook his head and scratched at his hair raggedly, tugging the ends. "Stop talking like that as if you mean it."

"I do though," Kurt murmured, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his cheek against them. "I hate myself, Blaine. I hate who I've turned into. I'm not that boy you met ten years ago anymore. I'm this pathetic person that lives in your shadow and put on weight and is so grossly unattractive that you won't even look at me soon because I'll be so fat and disgusting."

Blaine choked on his own tears that were rolling down his cheeks, staring at Kurt who looked so small and accepting that he was worthless. He'd missed it. He always missed it. He knew the salads meant more than Kurt was letting on, knew that they hadn't gone through bread as fast as usual. He'd noticed Kurt's exhaustion and the curve of his collarbone in the thin tees that he wore to bed, but he thought it was something else, not some…some…some eating thing that had suddenly reared up and swallowed the light that Kurt emitted without even realising that it was like Blaine was a moth and forever entranced.

Kurt was still mumbling about his hatred for himself and Blaine shifted to push Kurt's face up until he could press their lips together, silencing Kurt's diatribe until Blaine felt Kurt sag a little and curl his fingers into Blaine's shirt. It was warm, faintly salty from the tears that still trickled down each of their faces, but Blaine pulled back to lean his forehead against Kurt's and gaze into his eyes, even though they were incredibly blurry at such a close proximity.

"I love you, and only you," he said firmly, kissing Kurt's nose. "And I will show you why when we get home and don't have people around and after you've eaten, actually eaten, alright?"

Kurt shrugged and then nodded nervously at the look on Blaine's face. "How are we going to get home? I'm not sure if I can walk."

Blaine shifted to carefully assess Kurt's ankle, who hissed with pain as Blaine coaxed the hem of his jeans up to have a look. "I'm not a doctor, but I don't think it's broken," he said, lightly touching his fingers to the joints on both side and feeling at least a little satisfied that nothing shifted apart from the soft swelling that was discolouring Kurt's skin. "I'll help you hobble to the street and we'll get a taxi back to the apartment. I don't want you on the subway or a bus in case it jolts or someone bumps you because those things are just too crowded."

Blaine slung Kurt's arm over his shoulders while looping his other around Kurt's waist, helping raise him until Kurt was hopping on one foot and smoothing out invisible creases in his clothes. Blaine rolled his eyes affectionately, hauling Kurt's bag over his other shoulder and leading him the short distance to the road where he managed to wave down a cab that took them across the city. His hand stayed firmly within Kurt's, brushing his thumb over the knuckles of Kurt's fingers and being grateful that he'd already organised dinner so he didn't need to order out for something that might freak Kurt out after almost a month on salads. It still made his head reel that Kurt had been hiding something so big, so fundamental to their entire relationship. He'd had inklings in the past, certainly, that there was more to Kurt's random bouts of healthy eating and gym attendance, but he never knew it was so…so consuming, for Kurt to have to deal with.

He paid the cab driver who even assisted Kurt out of the car (which resulted in a nice tip) and once they were entering the foyer of their building, Blaine swept Kurt into his arms like a damsel in distress, pushing the Up button on the elevator and cooing nonsense to Kurt about saving and returning him to his tower like a fair, beautiful maiden. Kurt was blushing and giggling by the time Blaine stepped over the threshold of their apartment and Blaine felt relieved that at least the distress had eased for a few moments. He settled Kurt onto the couch, gently prying off Kurt's shoe and sock and apologising as Kurt whimpered in pain.

"I'll be right back with an icepack," Blaine said, kissing the top of Kurt's head and scurrying into the kitchen to retrieve the frozen wrap thing Kurt had insisted on keeping in the freezer 'in case of emergencies'. He wound a towel around it so it didn't burn or stick to Kurt's skin and returned, gingerly easing it onto Kurt's foot where the swelling was the darkest.

"I'm nothing if not clumsy," Kurt complained softly, propping his foot up on a cushion and adjusting the icepack so it was draped over his foot comfortably.

"I'm not sure a lack of co-ordination can be blamed for running around New York with tears in your eyes," Blaine pointed out, rubbing his hand along Kurt's shin and gazing at him.

"If I had better control of my emotions, then-"

"Stop it," Blaine interrupted, his eyes dark. "Stop. What Sebastian said to you…I don't know how long it's been going on, I don't know how long he was at you today, but you don't deserve that, Kurt. No one deserves that, do you hear me?" He shifted along the floor to clutch Kurt's hand. "I saw your designs, and they're amazing. Holly and Kaitlyn both told me that they were better than anything they'd ever drawn and do you know who else I saw? Simone came out to see what the commotion was about and saw your sketchbook in the bin. She retrieved it and started praising them and Sebastian stood there and tried to point out flaws until she smacked him over the head with it."

Kurt gave a half-hearted laugh as Blaine squeezed his hand. "Sebastian doesn't have the final say on your designs, Simone does. And Simone loved them."

"It's still not enough though," Kurt said with a sigh.

Blaine frowned down at the fabric of the couch, wondering if he could burn a hole in the fabric with his gaze. He hated this depreciating attitude Kurt had.

"I'm…going to go cook dinner," he announced finally, climbing to his feet and handing Kurt the remotes for the television. "I'll bring it in when I'm done. I don't want you on that foot any more than you need to be."

Kurt nodded and flicked the television on to anything that looked vaguely interesting but found his attention easily wandering. Now that Blaine knew, it was only a matter of time until it became too much to handle and he walked out. He was surprised Blaine hadn't figured it out earlier, hadn't abandoned him earlier, but Blaine had always been a little oblivious to things even more obvious than the nose on his face. His fingers traced over the scar on his neck absently as he tried to roll his ankle a little to shift the icepack. He could hear Blaine moving around in the kitchen and the fact they marked this as an anniversary-type occasion… He knew he'd have to eat, he knew he'd be trying to please Blaine but it had just been such a long day and he felt so utterly vile on the inside.

He snugged a cushion beneath his head and let his eyes close, the lingering feelings of doubt and loathing making his heart ache at how losing Blaine to all these awful things he thought was probably inevitable now.

He felt guilty, but at the same time he not only wanted Kurt to eat the food he'd cooked, he needed Kurt to eat it because he was honestly frightened. He set the plates down on the coffee table and gently shook Kurt until his eyes blinked open and focused on Blaine's face.

"Hey, I, um…" He sat on the floor beside the couch and kissed Kurt's forehead softly. "I made dinner and…well, was hoping you'd share it with me."

"Of course," Kurt murmured, taking the plate and resting it on his lap. It was simple and, dare he say it, acceptable to his warped sense of food rules because the grilled chicken on steamed rice and vegetables was healthy enough that he could stamp down on the feelings in his stomach and enjoy the meal. He couldn't finish it though, weeks of restricting his intake making it a struggle to finish much more than half the meal, but Blaine didn't kick up a fuss and took the plates away to clean them off. The soggy icepack on Kurt's ankle was making the cuff of his jeans damp so he tossed it onto the coffee table and sat up to have a look at it.

It was definitely swollen and bruised and looked like he'd done something to the arch of his foot leading up to the bone on the inside of his ankle. He hoped it was just a bad sprain or twist because a broken foot in New York was asking for trouble trying to hobble around on crutches.

Blaine re-appeared during an ad break with a smile on his face. "So…I was hoping that you might like to take a bath and rest and soak your foot and just…y'know, relax." He shifted from one foot to the other as his hands knotted together behind his back. "I can help you into the tub and everything, and you can say no but…but don't. I don't want you to say no."

The corner of Kurt's mouth quirked at Blaine's goofiness as he nodded, holding his arms out to his husband to get some assistance in standing. Blaine scooped him up carefully and carried him to the bathroom, sitting him on the lid of the toilet as he turned the taps until the water was cascading into the tub.

Kurt unbuttoned his vest and shirt, handing them to Blaine to put in the clothing hamper as Blaine tugged his tee over his head and put it on top.


"Hmm?" He wriggled out of his jeans and socks before moving to help Kurt out of his own, guiding the fabric over his swollen ankle and discarding the clothes into the basket.

"Can you put some of that vanilla salt stuff in the bath? I like the way it smells…" Kurt said shyly, feeling his face heat as Blaine crouched by the tub and swirled his hand through the water.

Blaine reached for the small bottle they kept on the shower recess and added a pinch of the crystals, the smell enveloping the room as steam fogged the glass. Kurt closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling calmer as the warmth in the bathroom seeped into his muscles and the smell invaded his senses. They eventually cracked back open when Blaine shut the water off and his knees creaked a little to stand up. And even though they'd known each other ten years and been married the last six, he still flushed scarlet when Blaine shucked his boxer-briefs off and added them to the clothing pile before taking Kurt's off. He tried to cross his legs awkwardly, feeling completely vulnerable and exposed as Blaine led him to the bathtub and lowered him into the water. He couldn't help the small moan that the warm water encouraged out of him as Blaine slid in behind to hold Kurt against his chest.

Blaine's hands roamed lightly over Kurt's body, his chin nuzzling into the crook of Kurt's neck as he kissed beneath Kurt's ear.

"You're completely amazing," he whispered, his fingers slipping deftly over the soft skin of Kurt's thigh. "You took my breath away on that staircase, and you take my breath away now. I don't understand how you could possibly hate the beautiful man you've grown into."

Kurt trembled slightly, feeling a wave of emotion swell within his chest. "Because you're so perfect. You're Blaine Anderson and everyone loves you. They write about your cutting-edge style or your latest great escapade on-stage or behind it and I…I can't compete with that." Kurt drew his fingers through the water, sending ripples across the surface. "I'm not good enough to be by your side. I've put on weight and I'm not that…that perfect person that you deserve to have."

Blaine kept his emotions carefully in check as he passed his hand over Kurt's stomach and mouthed at the back of Kurt's neck. "But perfection is so much more to me than appearance," he breathed into Kurt's ear as a shudder shook Kurt's frame. "And maybe you have put on a little weight since school, but so have I. So has Rachel and so has Finn. We've all gained a little weight. But you know what? That's what happens when you go from being a boy to a man." He moved Kurt until his head was tilted back against Blaine's shoulder and he brushed his hair back with warm, wet hands. "You haven't let yourself go and become part of America's obesity epidemic that never seems to end. You haven't turned into a rhinoceros, although I'd probably be more frightened by the extra horn on your head than the weight you'd gained."

Kurt snorted as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. "I think I'd probably be more concerned about a horn in my head than the weight too."

"Okay, so now that we've agreed you aren't to turn into a rhino," Blaine teased and kissed Kurt's temple. "It's been ten years, Kurt. Ten years. And I've seen you change hairstyles and clothing labels and graduate from McKinley and then Parson's and I have never ever stopped loving you or being proud of you or adoring everything about you."

"But I'm fat," Kurt mumbled, poking at the flesh of his hip. "I'm always flushed with exertion and I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror sometimes."

Blaine cuddled Kurt's body against his more firmly, refusing to let Kurt give in to the thoughts that easily. "You're flushed because you do so much. Or because you have the ability to turn pink at one stray comment. And as for the rest…honey, you are not fat. If that's fat, then I have that too." He prodded his own hip and bunched up the skin on the side. "Do you see me hating myself?"

"No, but that's just skin."

"That's all you have too, Kurt," Blaine hushed. "You aren't fat. You aren't disgusting or worthless or ugly or pathetic. You are perfection. You are glorious. You are amazing. You are loved."

Tears dribbled over Kurt's cheeks and splashed into the tub as Blaine lavished all the positive words he could think of until he started using different languages and then ran out of words as well. The water had started to cool and he shivered briefly as Blaine turned on the hot tap to fill the tub with more warm water.

"I'm constantly in awe of why someone as talented as you chooses to stay with me," Blaine confessed as he turned off the tap and snuggled Kurt against him again. "But I try not to question it too much because I worry one day I'll wake up and this will all be some incredibly vivid dream I had after getting beat up at the Sadie Hawkins."

"Blaine, no…"

"I know, I know, this is real life, I would have woken up by now," Blaine said, nosing at the hair at the back of Kurt's neck and kissing it. "Sometimes it just seems too good to be true that I have someone like you by my side, sharing my pain and my success and loving me always."

Kurt sniffled and Blaine placed little nipping kisses over Kurt's neck and shoulder, his hands wandering over Kurt's chest as he tried to breathe love over the body that Kurt hated so passionately. He sucked a hickey into the back of Kurt's shoulder, dark purple and faintly resembling a heart, and then licked over it to soothe the slight pain. When his right hand dipped lower on its circuitous path of Kurt's body, he covered his smile at the erection Kurt had developed by scraping his teeth along the junction of Kurt's neck and shoulder.

"I love you," he murmured, hugging Kurt against him. "And I'm going to climb out now and help you to the bed where I'm going to kiss every damn inch of your beautiful body and your flawless skin until you realise I'm completely serious about loving everything about you."

He steadied himself and towelled off quickly before helping Kurt stumble out of the bathtub and wiping his body down with a towel to get rid of all the moisture. He avoided acknowledging Kurt's erection, knowing Kurt was already shy and uncomfortable, and helped him hobble into the bedroom and climb onto the bed. He darted back to the bathroom, letting the water out of the tub, before crawling onto the bed to kneel beside Kurt.

"You're going to lay there. You're not going to move. And you're going to let me love you as only I can do, okay?"

Kurt nodded, his cheeks red and his eyes dark, as Blaine lowered himself to the hollow of Kurt's throat. "I love this because when you inhale quickly, it vibrates. When I'm fucking you, you moan louder when I lick at this spot." His tongue slipped out and pressed into the gap between Kurt's collarbones and Kurt whined low in his throat.

With a smile, Blaine drifted over to Kurt's shoulders, kissing along each of Kurt's collarbones and whispering why he loved them too. He kissed Kurt's arms down to his fingers, sucking at the wrinkly pads until Kurt's eyelids squeezed shut.

"I want you to watch," Blaine said softly, stroking Kurt's cheek until his eyes opened again. "I want you to see that at no point do I have even the slightest hesitation in touching and loving you."

Kurt bit his lip as Blaine continued his slow mapping of Kurt's body, kissing where he wanted and licking at places that smelt like vanilla and a little of sweat and just so Kurt. By the time his chin bumped the slender curve of Kurt's erection, Kurt was gripping the sheets and writhing beneath Blaine's mouth and struggling to maintain eye-contact with the top of Blaine's head.

Blaine moved around Kurt's dark erection, kissing down his thigh and then massaging the foot that wasn't injured. "You remember back at McKinley, when we sang Perfect to Santana?"

Kurt groaned a little when Blaine dug his thumb into the arch of Kurt's foot.

"Because I feel like singing that to you now. I feel like you've forgotten how perfect you are, that it doesn't matter to me if you're eighty and grey and wrinkly, or in your late twenties and feeling insecure but still being so gorgeous, I'm still going to love you anyway. I love you for more than just your body, Kurt. I love you for your talent, your passion, your wit, your strength, your versatility and resilience." He pressed a kiss to the ball of Kurt's foot, sliding his nose down and kissed Kurt's heel. "It's more than just what you look like on the outside, but who you are on the inside, and I love that Kurt just as much as the Kurt I can physically see spread out in front of me."

Tears drifted over Kurt's cheeks as Blaine moved back up the bed, cupping his cheeks and kissing him with as much passion as Blaine could find.

"You're beautiful, Kurt. You're so beautiful and I'm blessed and astounded that you chose to share your life with me. I love you. I love everything about you and I promised, for better or for worse, that I would always love you and prove it to you."

A sob escaped Kurt's mouth as Blaine cuddled his body gently, his hands gripping at Blaine's smooth and taut skin because he'd never felt so exposed, physically and psychologically, as he had this evening. Blaine had uncovered a secret he'd harboured much of his life, and he hadn't run, he hadn't flinched or faltered, but calmly reassured Kurt and loved him in ways that Kurt had maybe dreamed about but never expected.

"I love you," Blaine murmured again and again into Kurt's ear, slotting their bodies together and cautious of Kurt's injured ankle as he tried to seek as much skin-to-skin contact as he could. "I love you and I'm never leaving you."

The feel of Blaine's skin stretched over his calmed him more than he would have imagined, his heartbeat syncing up with Blaine's as his breaths opposed Blaine's. His stomach inflated when Blaine breathed out and he felt like they were so connected, so in tune, that he snuffled at the vanilla-scented curls of Blaine's head and soaked up the love and adoration that Blaine warmed his skin with.

At some point, Blaine wiggled away to reach into the bedside drawer and retrieve the bottle of lube they kept there. His eyes met Kurt's as he raised Kurt's good leg up and slung his swollen foot over his shoulder so it wouldn't get crushed.

"I love you," he repeated, squeezing lube onto his fingers and encouraging Kurt's hips to raise enough that he could tuck a pillow beneath them. "I love you so much that sometimes I think my heart is going to explode and I can't bear the idea that you've been hurting for so long and I never knew."

His slick fingers circled Kurt's entrance before he pressed the first one in slowly. Kurt exhaled against the slight burn as his stomach clenched with need and desire. He knew Blaine was trying to love him, trying to make it careful and gentle and filled with devotion, but he'd been hard so long that he wanted to sob at the agony he was in, pleading for more until Blaine was satisfied that he'd stretched Kurt as much as he could and wiped lube over his cock, positioning himself so they could slide together.

"Blaine," he mewled, tugging at Blaine's hair and arching his hips until his hole was clearly exposed.

"I know, I know," Blaine soothed, lining himself up and pushing in with one clean movement.

Kurt cried out, his neck flexing as the back of his head buried into the pillow. Blaine's arms shook as he moaned lowly, leaning down to nibble at the exposed tendon of Kurt's neck.

"So beautiful," Blaine whispered, dragging his hips back and then impaling himself again, finding a slow rhythm of rolling his hips that was nowhere near enough for either of them.

"Please," Kurt sniffed, tears of need running over his face as Blaine kissed them away and thrust in sharply, hitting Kurt's prostate.

Kurt keened with pleasure, his nails digging in to Blaine's scalp and bicep where his grip was almost painfully tight, as Blaine started to rock in harder, urging Kurt closer and closer to orgasm as he continued to find that spot within Kurt that had him alternating between panting and whines of pleasure. He could feel the tightening in his own balls, knew he couldn't hold himself off much longer. He fumbled his hand between their bodies, gripping Kurt's cock and twisting his wrist roughly.

"C'mon Kurt, I'm gonna come too…Come with me, love…"

With a broken gurgle, Kurt pulled Blaine down until their lips were smashed together, his scream of release swallowed by Blaine's mouth as Blaine grunted into Kurt's, coming so hard his arms gave way and he nearly whited out against Kurt's chest.

His pleasured convulsions finally slowed and he wiggled free of Kurt's body, kissing over his cheeks until Kurt's lips met his, slow and languid and tongues dipping and tasting and touching.

"I love you," he said, cradling Kurt's face between his. "I know it will take a lot to make you believe in yourself again, but I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I love you."

Kurt smiled tiredly, stretching his arms around Blaine's neck and feeling so sated and relaxed. "I love you too."

Blaine gathered a few tissues from the bedside table, cleaning him off until he switched off the light and climbed into bed behind Kurt, pulling him tight against his body and revelling in the feel of Kurt's naked skin lined up against his own after so long without it.

"I love you, I love you," Blaine sighed into Kurt's neck, a mantra that sent Kurt off to sleep with a lazy smile still on his face.

When Blaine stirred awake the following morning, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and peered over at Kurt, who was quietly sitting on the floor in a t-shirt and boxers and flicking through a book.

"Kurt?" he croaked, groggy and feeling rather too naked when Kurt had clothes on.

"Blaine! I…I didn't expect you to wake up…" He shut the book and shoved it under the bed.

"What're you looking at?" he asked as Kurt hopped back into the bed and under the covers to press into Blaine's chest.

"Just…a book…"

"Wow, really?" Blaine said sarcastically, nuzzling Kurt's hair and kissing his forehead when he peered up. "Can I see?"

"It's…" Kurt looked down, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "It's not something I wanted to share with you."

"Why not?" Blaine's hand ran down Kurt's spine and back up again, attempting to ease away his anxieties.

"Because…" Kurt bit his lip and tried not to betray that he was crying. "Because it's something that shows what I want to be but can't. It reminds me of my imperfections."

Blaine's hand faltered for a moment before he tucked Kurt closer, his leg curling over Kurt's and ignoring how he was naked just to tangle their bodies together.

"I want to see, please? I want to see what you want and I want to show you why you are better than any picture in a magazine."

It took a while as Kurt internally battled with himself before he nodded finally and reached beneath the bed for the scrapbook. Blaine was surprised at how large it was and wondered where Kurt had been keeping it for so long.

"Behind the shoe boxes," Kurt admitted when he saw the look on Blaine's face. Blaine sighed to himself at how well Kurt had been hiding all this as Kurt started to show the pictures to Blaine.

It took a while. No, it took hours for Blaine to go through every page and point out what he liked and didn't like about each image, what Kurt had that was better than the models taped in, what Blaine preferred to each of the models displayed. There were lots, probably a couple of hundred, but Blaine was painstaking and out to prove a point, trying to show to Kurt that even if Kurt considered the people in the pages flawless, Blaine still found something he liked better about Kurt.

When Kurt announced it was the last page, Blaine checked and then tossed the book across the room where it landed with a loud thump.

"C'mere," he said, urging Kurt into his arms and stripping off the shirt so he could press their skin together again.

Kurt steadied his breathing and his heart rate, finding his fears had also settled with Blaine's systematic and methodical process of reminding Kurt what he loved about him.

"I love you," Blaine mouthed into Kurt's throat. Kurt shivered and squirmed slightly at Blaine's light hands that made his skin twitch and quiver. "I love you, and I'm never going anywhere. You're mine. You're everything to me. I love you."

Kurt nuzzled his face into Blaine's hair, feeling calmer and more secure in their relationship than he had in…perhaps ever. It felt sad and sobering that he hadn't trusted Blaine with his worries earlier, because it might have made the past decade a lot more enjoyable to live when he wasn't being surrounded by concern that Blaine was going to leave him for someone else more attractive.

"You're all I want," Blaine whispered, pressing his lips to Kurt's and angling the back of his neck until his tongue could slide over Kurt's lower lip.

Kurt's tongue tentatively poked at Blaine's until Blaine groaned and rolled Kurt onto his back and hovered above him. His eyes were dark and his erection was very obvious as it pressed against the boxers Kurt was wearing.

"You're insatiable," he complained teasingly, his hand palming over the cotton covering Kurt's own cock.


"Hmm? What?" Blaine cooed, bending down to suck one of Kurt's flushed nipples into his mouth.

Kurt whined, shoving Blaine away and wriggling out of his boxers and tossing them onto the floor. "You know what," he said grumpily, pushing the lube into Blaine's open hand.

With a faint smirk, Blaine stretched him open until he was pleading breathlessly to just be fucked already. Blaine's smirk widened as he buried himself within Kurt, knowing that he would never get tired of feeling Kurt everywhere and breathing him in and just loving him so much.

Kurt wasn't as patient as he had been the night before, cautiously looping both his ankles around Blaine's waist and grabbing hold of tufts of Blaine's curls, urging him to thrust harder and deeper and faster until his back arched and his mouth opened in desperate pants as Blaine thrust into him relentlessly until he started trembling and came between them, the sticky slick of come helping Blaine rock his hips quicker until he groaned at the pleasure coursing through his body.

Kurt trailed his fingers through Blaine's curls, kissing him occasionally but mostly content to just stare into Blaine's honey-coloured eyes which were so pure and honest with love.

"It's going to be okay?" he asked nervously, his fears still there that Blaine would leave.

"You're all I want, ever," Blaine assured, kissing him silent until he couldn't think anything else but Blaine, Blaine, Blaine.

Original Prompt: Blaine is incredibly confident in his body. Not in a cocky way, he just literally has no problems or insecurities with himself.

Kurt, on the other hand, is incredibly insecure in his body. He spends hours looking up attractive male models and celebrities, comparing himself and always ends up hating his body even more.

Kurt tries to hide it from Blaine. He knows how secure Blaine is, and is afraid Blaine will leave him when he realizes how troubled Kurt is from all this. It doesn't help that Blaine has the perfect body. Toned chest, strong arms with a strong jawline. What does he have? He's not insanely skinny, lean, or toned. He actually has a bit of weight on him. Not much, but he's far from a six pack.

Blaine is completely and utterly in love with Kurt. Like, would walk across an ocean of nails for him in love. He thinks Kurt is the most beautiful person to ever grace this earth. Blaine knows Kurt doesn't have a six pack, and knows Kurt is a bit rounded. Does he care? Not. At. All. He loves Kurt's body.

One day Blaine overhears Sebastian insulting Kurt, calling him ugly and fat and not good enough for Blaine. Kurt's on the verge of tears, Sebastian saying everything Kurt fears to be true. Blaine flips his shit at Sebastian, going extremely protective!Blaine on his ass. Blaine takes Kurt home and completely worships him. Focus on Blaine's love for Kurt as person and his body, and how he has no reason to ever be ashamed of his body. Kurt is basically sobbing through the entire thing, from bliss, relief, and terror at Blaine seeing him like that.

Cross-posted to the Glee Angst Meme.

Overdone? Maybe. Any less amazing and wonderful? NOT AT ALL.

A/N: No more, no more, no more! This was just something I was so desperately drawn to write but there won't be any further chapters. I hope you enjoyed reading it and as always, I welcome feedback! :) xo