So this is based off of the amazing song 'Housewife' by Jay Brannan, which I would highly recommend listening to before/after/during reading this story. Actually, I wouldn't even mind if you just didn't read this fic at all but listened to the song instead. It's that beautiful.
Dedicated to my dear friend Ellen for sharing this song with me.
Two bodies pressed together
Two boys are falling hard
When they get to Blaine's house, they don't do it straight away. They curl up together on his bed, bodies fitting together like pieces of a jigsaw. ("I've finally found you, my missing puzzle piece." Blaine had sang, and Kurt had giggled and buried his face in Blaine's shoulder.) And then they just wait, frozen in a moment that is so beautiful and so amazing and so much that neither boy can fully comprehend it.
They've snuggled like this numerous times before but somehow this seems so much more intimate, so much more meaningful, knowing what is going to come afterwards. They're so close to each other that their noses touch in the occasional eskimo kiss, that they're breathing the same air as each other. Their legs are tangled together, their proximity so close that neither boy can say exactly where he ends and the other begins.
After an indeterminable amount of time that is simultaneously a second and an eternity, the moment is broken.
"I love you." Blaine whispers, and for the first time since he said it to Kurt back in the Lima Bean, the phrase is not enough. Those three little words can't even begin to contain the enormity of what he feels for Kurt right here, right in this moment. They imply that Blaine's feelings are current, just present tense, when Blaine knows they have always been there and always, always will be.
"I love you, too." Kurt breathes. He smiles shyly, ducking his head slightly. "Are you ready?"
Blaine smiles and opens his mouth to sing, ever-so-softly. "Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love."
Kurt joins him on the next line. "We can dance until we die, you and I, we'll be young forever."
They simultaneously seem to fall into the other's arms, and in the process they fall even more in love-that-is-so-much-more-than love with each other.
The smell of sweat and leather
At first, Blaine had regretted doing things with Kurt out of order – kissing him, asking him to be his boyfriend, and then asking whether he'd like to go on a date – but now, he is applauding himself on his unconventional approach. That is, in lieu of a customary chaste goodnight kiss after a first date, Kurt has pulled him into the backseat of the car and is kissing him with such reckless abandon that Blaine is convinced he will actually forget his own name if Kurt doesn't keep gasping it when they both come up for air.
They've been kissing for what must be half an hour (though Blaine wishes it would never end), growing more and more enthusiastic and athletic in their kisses as they go. When the first beads of sweat had materialized on Kurt's forehead, he had pulled away, abashed, but Blaine had managed to patiently, caringly coax him back into kissing because kissing is the best thing ever and no way is a little bit of sweat (especially not Kurt's) going to get in the way of Blaine's new favourite hobby.
The plush leather of the car seats is not exactly conducive to making out, especially when either one of them shifts slightly and the leather squeaks in imitation of a rather unattractive bodily function. It's not awkward, though; it's quite the opposite as both laugh to each other, giggling into the kiss, which introduces a whole new sensation that Blaine is totally okay with – another perk of being totally comfortable with each other before going on a date.
In fact, Blaine muses as he breathes in the mingling scents of sweat and leather and Kurt and him, if he were to do it all again, he would do the exact same thing. Because right here, right now really couldn't get any more perfect.
A kinky greeting card
"Kurt, mail's here!" Burt's yell pierces through Kurt's thoughts as he completes his morning moisturizing routine.
"Huh?" Kurt sticks his head around his bedroom door. He does his very best not to blush when he sees his dad. The residual embarrassment last night's sex talk has left in Kurt is running very strong at this moment in time.
"Mail for you." Burt, oblivious, holds up an envelope which indeed has his name scrawled on it in a messy cursive that seems very familiar.
"Um, thanks." Kurt frowns as he retreats back upstairs to his room. He never gets mail. Like, never. Even less frequently than Finn, whose main correspondent is their local library, demanding he return his plethora of overdue books. What Finn was even doing in a library in the first place, Kurt has no idea.
He shuts his door, sits down at his vanity, and opens the envelope to pull out a card with – oh my God. Kurt tosses the card onto his vanity as if electrocuted by the image on the front. Of all the things he'd been expecting, that was not even an option. He glances to the array of pamphlets on his bedside table, which now look like picture books in comparison. Courage. Finally, after an eternity, when Kurt's blush has changed its hue from crimson to fuchsia, he picks up the card again.
Two men are curled together in a... Well, compromising position would be putting it lightly. Thankfully, there are no hideous tattoos this time. That being said, there is the telltale silvery glint of handcuffs in the bottom left-hand corner. Kurt shudders, torn between being utterly appalled and slightly (very, very slightly) turned on. With trembling fingers, Kurt opens the card to read its inside inscription in that handwriting that is so very familiar.
Just so you know, I'd pick a baby penguin over this any day. - Blaine x
Kurt's blush has returned. They haven't spoken since he kicked Blaine out of his room a few days previously, but Kurt recognises that this is Blaine apologising – an apology he readily accepts. But... is this Blaine flirting too? Consciously this time? He examines the picture more closely, and with a sudden burst of laughter, Kurt notes that one man is shorter, stockier with black, curly hair. Blaine is many wonderful things, but subtle is not one of them. Well, two can play at that game. Kurt can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he composes a text to Blaine, tapping out one of his favourite lines from Rent.
I didn't recognise you without the handcuffs.
When the two move in together years later, the greeting card takes up permanent residence on the noticeboard above their bed.
Crazy about each other
"I am crazy about you."
Kurt has to suck in a startled breath. It's not that he's scared or that these five words (these five, small, glorious words) have come too soon, or anything. He's just taken aback, really. Because Blaine has just put into words what Kurt has been struggling to articulate since he first met his boyfriend.
Crazy about you.
They don't 'like' each other, 'like' is too mild, too ordinary. Blaine occupies Kurt's every thought, every idea, every dream (but not like that, oh my God). Kurt genuinely feels that his existence is conjunctive to Blaine's own, that he really would lose his mind without him. Yes, that definitely all equates to insanity. But Kurt finds he doesn't mind all that much. Being crazy about Blaine seems the best kind of crazy to be.
Of course, Kurt doesn't tell Blaine that right there and then in Breadstix. Crazy about Blaine he may be, but he also recognises a golden opportunity for coercing Blaine into going to prom when he sees one. The conversation moves on to lighter topics – how heinous a colour tangerine is on everyone, the latest Grey's Anatomy episode, et cetera – but Kurt is still silently glowing at Blaine's admission.
He resolves to whisper his admission of Blaine-sanity when they're making out in his car after dinner.
We both have fucked up pasts
Kurt tells Blaine about Elizabeth Hummel a couple of weeks after they first meet. He bursts into tears immediately, understandably, and Blaine wraps an arm around him and holds him so tightly that it must cause him pain as Kurt tells him about the death of his mother. As Kurt sobs into his shoulder, Blaine is hit by the freight train of a realisation that he is the first to hear the full account of what happened. When he's finished, Kurt gives him a watery smile and launches into profuse apologies upon seeing the state of Blaine's Dalton blazer. Blaine waves away the apology, pulling Kurt in for another hug. Blazers aren't nearly as precious as what Kurt just shared with him.
Blaine isn't as brave as Kurt. It takes him much longer to work up the courage to tell him his reason for transferring to Dalton. After Kurt's prom outfit obtains a lukewarm reception from him and Burt, Blaine follows his boyfriend upstairs, attempting to conceal how much he's shaking. At first, Kurt refuses to let him into his bedroom, but immediately throws open the door and wraps his arms around Blaine when he begins to cry. It takes about thirty minutes and a handful of tissues and Kurt kissing away his tears for Blaine to recount the full story of the Sadie Hawkins dance. When he's done, Kurt hugs him again and murmurs, "Thank you for telling me that, Blaine." He accepts him. He knows about Blaine's past and doesn't judge him one bit. All that Blaine can see in Kurt's eyes is concern. In that moment, Blaine is almost certain he is in love with Kurt. "Thank you for listening." He breathes.
But when we are together
We have a fucking blast
Kurt should really just give up on Blaine. After all, the Warbler has spent the past few weeks pining for a guy with a bad perm and a GAP discount, and Kurt doesn't need the multiple Cosmo quizzes he's taken to realise that Blaine really is just a 'Fab Friend' and not a 'Faithful Frencher' – Kurt understands loud and clear: Blaine just isn't interested. All he's got out of his crush is some premature wrinkles. He should just let Blaine go. But he can't.
"Oh my God, this is the worst production I have ever seen." Blaine whispers in Kurt's ear. "And that's saying something, because I've seen an all-male production of Annie." Kurt freezes, moving his head jerkily to check if anyone heard.
"Blaine, you can't say that." He hisses back.
"Come on, Kurt," Blaine looks up at him through his eyelashes. "You know it's true. The guy playing Professor Higgins is more off-key than Rex Harrison, and he spoke all of the lyrics."
Kurt bites down on his lip to keep from laughing.
Blaine nudges him playfully. "Knew you'd agree. And don't pretend you don't have something to say about Eliza's outfit."
Kurt shudders slightly. "I mean, seriously? Pink and orange lace? She's trying to become a lady, not an eyesore!" He murmurs.
Blaine lets out a sudden bark of laughter at Kurt's comment, causing the poor actor on stage to falter in the middle of 'On the Street Where You Live'.
"Blaine." Kurt clamps a hand over Blaine's mouth to ensure silence.
Thus ensues a silent struggle between the pair, with Blaine tickling Kurt's side and Kurt kicking him away and Blaine licking Kurt's palm (don't think about it, Kurt, don't think about it) and Kurt shrieking with laughter and Blaine all but climbing over the armrest that separates them to tickle Kurt further, all the while crowing the words to 'Wouldn't It Be Loverly'.
The two are brought crashing back to reality and to their current setting when an usher marches up to them and demands they leave for disrupting the performance and making the actor playing Freddy Eynsford-Hill cry in the middle of his big number.
"I cannot believe you got us kicked out of a theatre!" Blaine laughs as they step out into the cool night air.
"Are you serious right now, Blaine Anderson?" Kurt fixes him with Bitch Glare Number Five: 'do not mess with me'.
"Maybe I played a minor role in the proceedings." Blaine admits, linking his arm through Kurt's. "Frozen yoghurt? It's on me."
Kurt smiles. "Sounds perfect."
Kurt should really just give up on Blaine. But they have too much fun together.
I wanna be a housewife
What's so wrong with that?
I wanna be a housewife, yeah
And that's just where I'm at
"What would you do if Blaine proposed to you today?"
For a split second, Kurt freezes, wondering if Rachel has figured out what he hasn't told anyone – not even Blaine. But he shakes it off, knowing Rachel is just trying to prove her point. She doesn't know what she was so close to uncovering. All Rachel knows is what Blaine knows, what his dad knows, what the followers of Jacob Ben Israel's blog know – he wants to be married by thirty, legally.
But that's not the whole truth. Kurt may not want to jump into marriage straight away, not like Rachel and Finn, but he wants it sooner than thirty – twenty two, maybe. Hopefully.
Of course he would say yes if Blaine proposed today. He'd say yes at any time, in any place. Because he wants everything with Blaine. He wants to share everything with Blaine, only Blaine, always Blaine.
He's willing to wait, though. Even if Blaine asked him to wait longer than thirty. And yes, while he wants to marry Blaine and do married things, his first priority is Blaine and it always will be. Because marriage wouldn't mean anything if he didn't have Blaine – not now, not when he's thirty, not ever – because nothing would mean anything if he didn't have Blaine.
But he doesn't tell people that. Not Blaine, not his dad, and especially not Rachel, because they won't understand. Kurt's not sure if he even understands it himself.
Kurt wants to take care of Blaine. He looks at couples pushing prams in the park and catches the glint of a person's wedding ring and sees his dad and Carole curled up together on the sofa, and each sight makes Kurt feel certain that he will marry Blaine and take care of him in that way and share that life with him.
Just not yet.
I'm making guacamole
He's working on the car
Blaine hums to himself thoughtfully as he lifts a spoonful of freshly-prepared guacamole to his lips. Perfect. He grins to himself. Guacamole is the only culinary art that seems to have eluded Kurt Hummel – not that he hasn't tried everything: online tutorials, copying Blaine's recipe, having Blaine personally teach him (that had been particularly disastrous... In terms of the guacamole and the kitchen counter, that is. Blaine had seen it as a complete success.) Thus, guacamole has become somewhat of a treat for Kurt, something Blaine prepares out of the blue just to see Kurt's exuberant reaction.
Blaine arranges the (low fat) pita bread chips artfully on a plate and makes his way through to the garage. The only visible sign of Kurt is his legs, somehow still managing to look long and slender while clad in coveralls, sticking out from the underside of their car. Kurt's humming to himself as he works. Blaine is convinced he can hear the intro to Katy Perry's 'Teenage Dream'.
The humming stops. "Hmm?" Blaine can almost hear the smile in his voice. Kurt rolls out from underneath the car. His hair, which began the morning perfectly coiffed, is sticking up at odd angles. He has a grease stain on the tip of his nose. Blaine can't help but grin at how adorable he looks.
"I made you some guac." Blaine proffers the plate he's holding.
As predicted, Kurt's entire face lights up – his smile increases twofold in size, his eyes sparkle as he looks at the plate and back to Blaine.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" He crosses the garage in two strides, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck and pulling him in for a kiss, being careful not to upset the guacamole.
Kurt giggles as they finally break apart. Blaine raises an eyebrow.
"You've got a little grease... here." Kurt presses a finger to the apple of Blaine's right cheek.
"Oh, really? You know, that's funny, because you've got some guacamole right there." Blaine dips his finger in the mixture, smearing a generous portion on his boyfriend's face. Kurt's tongue darts out to lick away some guacamole gathered at the corner of his mouth. He smirks.
"Oh, it is on, Blaine Anderson."
The pita chips remain forgotten. The two have found a much better medium for consuming guacamole.
When he grills turkey burgers
He knows I like them charred
The tantalizing smell hits Blaine the moment he steps into the apartment and he all but bounds into the kitchen, where Kurt looks up from the grill to smile knowingly.
"Would you like a burger, dear?" He asks innocently.
Blaine pulls him in for a kiss. "Have I ever told you I love you?"
"Hmm," Kurt leans into him. "Yes. On average, five times a day. But I have no problem with you upping that number to six."
"I love you." Blaine says, resolute. "How did you know I was having a bad day?" He nods towards the two turkey burgers Kurt is grilling. Kurt much prefers to cook vegetarian food, only indulging in things like burgers when he feels that Blaine needs and/or deserves them.
"I have my ways." Kurt grins. "Now go away, I have to burn yours to a crisp before serving it, though I'll never understand why you like them like that." He swats Blaine playfully with his spatula.
"Because while you wait for mine to burn, I can do this." Blaine pulls him in for a kiss, deep and passionate and designed to take Kurt's breath away, which he succeeds in doing – Kurt is panting by the time he remembers to push Blaine off him.
"Blaine, there is still time for me to throw these out and make tofu stir-fry." Kurt's tone is just a little too breathless to be threatening, but Blaine relents anyway.
"Fine, fine!" He retreats to the kitchen table. Blaine doesn't bother to mention that charred turkey burgers remind him of a fourth of July barbecue in Kurt's senior year when Kurt had burned the burgers because he'd been kissing Blaine instead. After that day, Blaine realised just how much he preferred his meat well-done.
I like to wash the dishes
I like to scrub the floors
Blaine is always filled with a sense of crippling guilt every time he walks into the kitchen to find Kurt cleaning, no matter how many times his boyfriend insists that he doesn't mind, that he likes washing up. And it's true. Cleaning reminds Kurt of home, of taking care of his father, of the way his dad used to kiss his mom when she was doing the dishes, much like Blaine does now. Kurt finds cleaning almost pleasurable, a thoroughly relaxing pastime.
That is, except for right now.
"Blaine, it's not coming off! It's not coming off, oh my God, what do we do?" Kurt all but shrieks as he attacks the floor with his sponge, scrubbing furiously.
"Kurt, it's a tiny speck," Blaine bends down to where Kurt is kneeling on the floor, dropping a kiss into his hair. "Burt and Carole aren't going to notice it."
"A speck? A speck? Blaine, it's humungous. They're not blind, they'll notice it in an instant!" Kurt glares down at the white spot on the floorboard.
"Honey, it's really not that bad." Blaine strokes his thumb over Kurt's cheek. "And even if they do see it, is it really that big a deal?"
Kurt gapes at him, incredulous. "Well, excuse me for trying to keep the details of our lewd sexual relations from my parents." He throws the sponge back into the basin of soapy water, which sloshes over the sides and onto the floor.
Blaine grins. "You're excused. And speaking of our lewd sexual relations," his tone becomes suddenly husky. "I can think of a much better reason for you to be on your knees."
Kurt's eyes become so wide they threaten to pop out of his head.
"Oh my God, Kurt, I was kidding! You should see your face right now!" Blaine doubles over with laughter.
"That was not funny, Blaine." Kurt says through gritted teeth.
"It was very funny and you know it. Oh, hey, you missed a spot." Blaine points down at the white stain on the floor before dashing in the opposite direction as Kurt chases after him with his sponge.
Don't mind doing his laundry
What are boyfriends for?
"Okay, so I have them ordered according to item of clothing, then by colour, and then by fabric." Blaine gestures to the vast array of laundry baskets surrounding them. "Did I forget anything?"
Kurt scans the room, beautiful eyes darting from basket to basket, before he nods and gives Blaine the smile he saves for Blaine and Blaine only – head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side, eyes sparkling. "This is perfect." He leans over to give Blaine a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek. "You're sure you don't mind doing this?"
Blaine shrugs. "That's what I'm here for, right?"
Kurt's entire face softens. "That's not true," he breathes, his gaze so warm and loving that Blaine is certain his heart skips a beat.
Kurt smirks. "I also keep you around for the amazing backrubs."
"I'm sure." Blaine nuzzles Kurt's neck.
"And the cookies."
"And the sex, too, I guess."
Blaine smiles against his neck. "I'm offended that that's number four on your list."
Kurt shrugs his shoulders slightly, careful not to disturb the very pleasant thing Blaine is doing to his throat right now. "Hey, it beat out some pretty tough competitors. Number five is that setting on your TV that allows me to record Project Runway."
Blaine nibbles the junction between Kurt's neck and his shoulder. "I'm glad you consider my sexual prowess to be better than TiVo." He murmurs.
"Only by a very small – ah! – margin. I love being able to – Blaine – re-watch Tim Gunn one-liners." Kurt's reply is just a little too breathy to be snarky.
"Oh, we'll see about that." Blaine grins, pulling Kurt down onto the floor.
He'll get to the laundry later – just as soon as he rearranges Kurt's list for him.
I wanna be a housewife
What's so wrong with that?
I wanna be a housewife, yeah
And that's just where I'm at
"I'm looking forward to marriage equality in all fifty states."
Blaine is telling the truth, he really is. He has been campaigning for marriage equality ever since he realised that being gay denied people the right to the happiest day of their life. But now, as he stares across the circle of misfits at his boyfriend, he acknowledges that he has an ulterior motive.
He wants to marry the boy he loves. He doesn't just care about the marriage of Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka or that cute lesbian couple he saw on vacation in Florida, he cares about himself. Himself and Kurt, that is.
He wants to marry Kurt. He wants to see him looking unfairly beautiful in whatever flawless outfit he designs for the occasion. He wants to put a ring on Kurt's finger. He wants to kiss away the tears Kurt will undoubtedly shed when they say their vows. And he wants the state of Ohio and wherever else to recognise this union of two people as legal and beautiful and the best thing that will ever happen to Blaine.
And even more than that, he wants what comes after the wedding. He wants kisses before work and breakfast in bed and household chores and wedding anniversaries and a ring around his finger that tells the world that he is linked with the person he loves.
Perhaps 'looking forward to' is a bit of an understatement on Blaine's part.
I want to have his baby
Blaine's always loved kids. He's always dreamed of having his own, of taking them on picnics, of going to the park and pushing them on the swings. That being said, they've always been vague ideas, blurry outlines of a faraway reality.
But ever since he's started dating Kurt, way back in high school, those sketches have solidified, become something so real and concrete in his mind that Blaine can scarcely believe it. The little boy chewing a cheese sandwich on their picnic has chestnut brown hair, the girl Blaine pushes on the playground's rickety swing grins up at him with grey-blue-green eyes that sparkle. Kurt is to be found in their every movement, in every curve of their faces, in every smile they give Blaine.
But even more important than their resemblance to Kurt is Kurt's presence in these visions – as constant as Blaine's own. Kurt is there, always there, with an arm around Blaine's waist or his head resting on Blaine's shoulder, saying kindly but firmly that no, you can't eat cupcakes before dinner, you'll ruin your appetite, or lovingly brushing their daughter's hair, or playing 'tea party' and hide-and-seek and snap, or reading a bedtime story in a voice so soft it seems almost reverent.
Of course, being gay complicates matters a bit. That's why Blaine has left this dream unsaid for so many years. But now, every time they go out, kids are all he sees – in the park, at the grocery store, on the subway, in the streets – so he figures the time is right.
He leaves the adoption papers on the kitchen table, waiting for Kurt to see them when he comes home from work. Blaine's always wanted kids, but now he's found the perfect person to share the experience with.
I want to wear his ring
Kurt knows he jumps the gun a little when Blaine first pulls out the little box. He can't help it. He loves Blaine so much that he wants to shout it from the rooftops but, being a gay teen in very anti-gay-teen Ohio, he can't do that. Still, he wants something to show the world that he is Blaine's, and Blaine is his. That they belong to each other. And so, when he sets eyes on that little box, his heart starts speaking for him before his brain can catch up.
"If this is an engagement ring, yes! What's better than Christmas in New York? Eloping and getting married in Central Park, on Christmas!"
It's not an engagement ring. Which, Kurt realises in retrospect, is probably a good thing. Especially since the promise ring – homemade and adorable and so very Blaine – is even better than any diamond. And while it isn't the ring Kurt first envisioned himself sporting, he wears his new ring with the utmost pride, his chest tightening in a way that isn't exactly painful every time he looks down at his hand. Because this ring is Blaine's promise to him. This ring shows that they both belong to each other. This ring reserves the place for an engagement ring Kurt is certain will come in the future.
He couldn't have asked for a better Christmas present.
He drives me fuckin' crazy
Remember how there used to be a picture of Kurt Hummel next to the entry of 'baby penguin' in the dictionary? Well, from where Blaine Anderson's standing (or, rather, lying) the dictionary needs to be updated because right now Kurt is much more hungry lion than cute fluffy bird.
Not that Blaine is complaining, of course. He has no qualms whatsoever with lying under Kurt, writhing as Kurt renders him completely undone by swirling his tongue around Blaine's nipple in a manner that seems positively illegal.
"Kurt, I – ah, Kurt, please –"
"Patience, darling," Kurt murmurs and Blaine can hear the smirk in his voice which only serves to turn Blaine on even more. "We don't want to rush something so fun, do we?"
Blaine is having a lot of trouble with words right now, so he just kind of grunts his affirmative. Things his seven-year relationship has taught him: Kurt Hummel is a tease. He could probably win an Olympic medal in being a tease, if it were a sport.
Kurt ghosts his lips down the length of Blaine's body, leaving a trail of hot air that is all at once too much and not nearly enough. Blaine whines.
"You know, Blaine," Kurt hums. "I'm having an awful lot of trouble understanding you right now. Is there something you want?" He runs a hand up Blaine's thigh. Blaine whimpers.
"I – ah – Kurt, ah – touch me!"
"Oh, is that all?" Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Okay." Blaine sighs in relief. "But wait a second!" Blaine groans. "That wasn't very polite of you, Blaine. Do you want to try asking me again?" He bites down on Blaine's collarbone.
"I – what?"
"Not what I was looking for. Try again." Kurt smirks against his skin, tongue darting out to catch a drop of sweat on Blaine's shoulder.
"Touch me, please." Blaine says through gritted teeth.
"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" Kurt asks innocently before complying. Blaine has to stop his eyes rolling back into his head.
Kurt's teasing may drive him crazy, but Blaine doesn't mind if this is the reward.
I am his everything
Kurt's lucky. He has a loving family, with a father who has always accepted him no matter what at its core. While bullies have made occasional blips on his system, his whole life has been filled with love. He didn't always appreciate it, but now he realises how lucky he has been in life.
Blaine's not so lucky. His family was barely there for him growing up, he has parents that will never come to terms with his sexuality. Even his relationship with Cooper, though much improved, will always bear marks of the strain between the two brothers. Blaine's never known real love. Until now.
Kurt can see it in his eyes, how much he means to Blaine reflected back in those pools of golden brown. It's scary, sometimes, knowing that you are the person fundamental to your significant other's existence and happiness – the only person they depend on. It's a lot of pressure for just one person to bear. But it's also nice – it's nice to see Blaine's face light up when Kurt comes home, it's nice to feel devoted to a person who is so devoted to you, it's nice to know that Kurt is the person to show Blaine what real love is and that he makes Blaine so deliciously, ecstatically happy all by himself.
So when Blaine whispers, "you are everything to me" in Kurt's ear after they finish making love, Kurt doesn't mind at all. And whenever Blaine calls him his everything, Kurt is reminded just how lucky he really is.
I wanna be a housewife
What's so wrong with that?
I wanna be a housewife, yeah
And that's just where I'm at
I wanna be a housewife
What's so wrong with that?
Can't wait till he's in my life, yeah
Cause we haven't met
We haven't met yet
We haven't met yet
We haven't met yet
"Excuse me, can I ask you a question? I'm new here."