Work Text:
Morning sunlight filters through the bedroom window. Blaine can sense it before he quite manages to open his eyes and knows that Kurt must have already gotten up and opened the room-darkening shades.
Blaine slowly feels his brain surface from a luxurious sleep and hears the gentle click of the apartment door closing and careful footsteps moving away down the stairs. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and stretches under the covers. He wishes he’d been awake enough to say goodbye to Kurt, but when he rolls to face the other side of the bed, there’s a slip of paper with Kurt’s loopy handwriting.
My love, my one and only.
Happy wedding day!
I can’t wait to see you this afternoon.
Yours, forever and ever,
Kurt.
Blaine reads the note three times before carefully tucking it into the drawer of his bedside table. He sprawls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. A family of butterflies lands in his stomach, and he can’t stop the grin that takes over his face. He can feel his whole body start to vibrate, and before he knows it, he’s kicking his legs and swinging his arms and giggling and yelling to absolutely no one, or maybe to the entirety of New York City.
“We’re getting married today!”
* * *
Kurt steps out into the crisp spring air and walks to the end of the block to flag down a taxi. On any other day, he might walk or take the subway. But today he’s carrying a small suitcase full of toiletries and a garment bag with the most exquisite suit he’ll ever wear. Plus, he’s planning on showering at his destination, so he’s scruffier and less put-together than he ever allows himself to be in public - best to get there as quickly as possible.
Kurt has pulled every string, worked every contact, and called in every favor to give himself and Blaine the wedding day of their dreams, which is how he finds himself pulling up in front of a fabulously funky converted warehouse on the other side of Brooklyn. He's bartered services with a few of his favorite hair and makeup artists from Vogue, so his favorite girls will look their best. (And though he's quite capable of managing his own look, he certainly isn't going to turn down the services of a professional hairstylist today.)
Years of curating a designer wardrobe on a practically nonexistent budget have made Kurt Hummel an expert in judicious spending and creative use of resources. As he hangs his garment bag on the waiting wardrobe rack and watches the makeup artists unpacking their supplies, he feels a fierce sense of pride at what he's managed to pull together.
Their wedding will feel far more extravagant than it should have any right to; they're a pair of recent college graduates with degrees in performance, for heaven's sake. But if anyone can stretch a dollar and get something for practically nothing, it's Kurt. He unzips his bag and fondly touches the fabric of his tuxedo - black with the tiniest bit of shimmering dark gray woven through it - found dramatically marked down with a "defect" tag because it was missing a button and had a small tear in the fabric exactly in the spot where Kurt knew he'd be taking in the seam, anyways.
It's not only that Kurt has exquisite taste, though he does, obviously, and why would he not let that show for his wedding, of all things? It's that this deserves to be special. He wanted to make it special for Blaine. They're only going to get married once, and there's no way either of them is willing to put it off until they have more money to spend on it. So Kurt has been determined from the moment they started planning that this would be the wedding they wanted, no matter how creative he had to get to make it happen.
Rachel and Santana arrive at the loft a few minutes after Kurt does, hanging up their own garment bags and setting out a box of croissants from Kurt’s favorite bakery. Tina and Mercedes follow shortly behind with orange juice and champagne; if ever there were a time for mimosas, certainly the morning of a wedding is it. He feels like a grown-up, but maybe also a kid playing grown-up, as they fill their plastic cups for the day's first toast.
“To my dear Lady Hummel,” says Santana. “We’ve all known that you and the Hobbit were joined at the damn hip from day one. So I guess it’s no surprise that you’re the first of this ridiculous crowd to tie the knot. But if anyone was made for a lifetime of boring married-people sex, it’s you two.”
Kurt smirks and rolls his eyes. He’s had years of living with Santana’s clever-but-casual insults and long ago learned to hear the affection underneath them.
“I think what Santana means to say,” Rachel interjects in a haughty voice, waving a dismissive hand as Santana scoffs, “is that we are all very happy for you and Blaine. We all knew this day would come, and we are so excited that it is here. We wish you the best and brightest happily-ever-after.”
“And may all your ups and downs be between the sheets,” adds Santana, grinning wickedly as she raises her cup.
Tina and Mercedes cackle as they lift their own cups and repeat the toast. “And may all your ups and downs be between the sheets!”
Rachel looks put out at being upstaged but reluctantly taps her cup to Santana’s, and Kurt can only laugh at this collection of characters and their very odd ways of saying “I love you.”
Kurt is in his element, practically in work-mode, as he begins to direct the stylists around his dearest friends. He knows what he wants, and he has both the vision and the vocabulary to get it just so. The details of planning and executing a look come naturally to him, and his time at Vogue has only sharpened his skill. He is business-like but at ease. He knows what he's doing.
“I’ve brought photos of a few of my favorite up-dos that Barbra wore in Funny Girl,” Rachel prattles to one of the hairstylists. “I’m thinking this one, here, that is really piled high on her head, with these flowers kind of stuck in it-”
Kurt cuts her off with a glare. “Rachel Berry, you are not coming to my wedding in a tacky, dated hairstyle from a movie that is nearly as old as our parents.”
Rachel looks like she’s been slapped across the face, as though Kurt has dared to insult Barbra Streisand in her presence.
“When it’s your turn," Kurt continues, "you are welcome to make your own wedding an homage to Barbra. But today you are going to have the most incredible blow-out of your life, and I will not hear another word about it.”
Once they're settled (no one else is fool enough to argue with his vision), he makes his way to the bathroom. As the hot water pours over his head, work-Kurt starts to wash out of his skin. The event planning is done. The looks are being executed. That part is over. He's left standing there as just Kurt. Blaine's Kurt.
He thinks of the vision he left this morning: Blaine still asleep in their bed, stubbled face and messy hair, face completely relaxed in sleep. Waking up next to him, like that, is his very favorite thing.
And suddenly, it sinks in. His hands tremble as he grabs the shampoo bottle and tears prickle the corner of his eyes, but he smiles.
We're getting married today.
He gets to wake up to that sight, to Blaine, every day for the rest of his life. It's not theoretical, it's not just wishful thinking. It's real. It's official.
He finishes his shower in a giddy daze. He tones and moisturizes by muscle memory. He pulls on his underwear and undershirt, cinches a robe around his waist, and wanders back out into the loft. The buzzing chatter of a room full of women stops, and all eyes are on him. Mercedes is starting with her mouth slightly agape while Tina looks like she’s trying to stifle a laugh. Kurt touches his cheek and wonders if he looks as dopey as he feels right now.
"Um, Kurt?" asks Rachel, tentatively. "Are you okay?"
Kurt looks at her half-concerned, half-smiling face and can't quite stop the near-hysterical sound that squeaks out of his mouth. "I, yeah. Yes. I'm good. I'm... I'm great, actually." He feels like he could skip around the room like a lovesick teenager. (He may or may not have done that a few times when he was a lovesick teenager.)
Santana rolls her eyes. "Kurt, seriously, are you high right now?"
Another strangled, high-pitched noise bubbles its way out from his chest as he feels himself almost involuntarily starting to bounce on his toes and flutter his hands. "You guys, I'm getting married today."
Tina giggles madly, and Mercedes snorts indelicately before her laughter quickly escalates to the point of doubling over. Rachel laughs loudly and scrunches her nose, and Santana shakes her head in fake exasperation; even she can’t hide her smile.
Kurt doesn’t particularly care that they’re laughing at him and not with him. He’s fairly certain this is going to be the greatest day of his life, and he lets his friends' bubbling laughter fill him up until he feels like he's floating.
* * *
On the other side of town, Blaine whistles as he finishes packing his overnight bag - they don't leave for Paris for a few days but still wanted to get a swanky hotel room for the night - and sets it next to Kurt’s by the front door. They’ve lived together for several years, and Blaine can predict with startling accuracy which clothes Kurt will want to pack for any given occasion, but he has long since stopped offering to pack for him. It’s not worth the look of horror on Kurt’s face.
Shockingly on time for once, there's a knock on the door before Sam and Cooper barrel into the apartment.
"Dude!" Sam wraps him in a tight hug. "I can't believe this is really it! You ready?"
"Yep, everything's all set." Blaine ticks through his mental checklist. "Tux is pressed, rings are with Kurt, bags are packed for tonight. Tina's meeting us at brunch once she's done with hair and makeup, and we're good to go!"
"Then brunch it is, Squirt," says Cooper as he ruffles Blaine's not-yet-styled hair. He leans in closer in a conspiratorial whisper, "Let's just make sure we get a discreet table inside; I don't want to draw too much extra attention since it's your day."
Blaine rolls his eyes fondly at his brother's ever-inflated sense of celebrity. "Sure, Coop. You got it."
They're in no rush; they've got plenty of time to kill before they have to get ready, even factoring in how long it takes to tame Blaine's hair. But Blaine is a buzzing ball of energy as they walk to his and Kurt's favorite neighborhood cafe.
"Katie, hi!" he says to the regular Saturday-morning hostess, who never seems to want to match his enthusiasm. "Guess what? Kurt and I are getting married today!"
"Congrats," she replies in a monotone, barely looking up from her seating chart. "Table in the corner is free."
"Great, thanks, Katie!"
Cooper and Sam share a look as they take their seats and pull out their menus, but Blaine can't be bothered to care.
"Hey, Mr. Blaine! Beautiful day today!" One of the busboys stops by the table to greet him.
"Isn't it, Carlos?" Blaine and Kurt have been regulars at this place for a while. Kurt teases him for it, but if someone has been working there for more than about two weeks, Blaine has probably made an effort to learn his or her name. Carlos has been around longer than most.
"Where is Mr. Kurt this morning? Sleeping in?"
"Nope!" Blaine grins and bounces in his seat. "He's off getting ready. We're getting married today!"
This earns a cheer and a hug from Carlos, and Blaine feels like every person he shares his excitement with only makes it bigger and better.
"Dude, I think you've told every person between your apartment and here that you're getting married," says Sam, when Carlos finally gets back to work and Blaine takes his seat again. "I think you might want to take it down a few notches."
"But Sam, this is huge! I mean, I'm marrying Kurt. Kurt! We're getting married today!"
"Yeah, I know, and it’s really cool. I'm just not sure that guy who was waiting for the bus really cares that much."
Blaine, frankly, feels like half of New York ought to take to the streets and sing a song for this glorious occasion. Don't they realize? He gets to marry Kurt today. Kurt. Beautiful, strong, flawless, sometimes terrifying Kurt. Kurt is marrying Blaine. How are people not getting the magnitude of this? Because Blaine feels practically drunk with it.
(He's totally not drunk. He's only had coffee with brunch, and he may have even heard Sam telling the waiter to switch it to decaf. It's a new waiter - Sasha had to switch to Tuesdays - so he only said "yeah, dude, you told me already" when Blaine accidentally mentioned a second time that he is, in fact, getting married today. Sasha would totally have been good for another hug.)
Tina joins them halfway through the meal, looking like a movie star from the neck up with her glamorous hair and professional makeup, and a broke college student from the shoulders down, wearing a baggy button-up shirt and yoga pants.
"Kurt sends his love, Blaine!" she trills. "I'd give you a kiss from him, but I don't think you want this lipstick all over your face."
"How is he holding up over there? Are Santana and Rachel behaving themselves?" The first year he and Kurt lived together, Blaine had moved into the loft with all three of them. He knows first-hand how quickly things can escalate in that group.
"Everything is going just fine, he's got it under control and mostly has the same goofy grin as you do."
Blaine's smile somehow shines even brighter, and a spot of tension he didn't know he was carrying melts off his shoulders to hear that Kurt is happy and not too stressed. He carefully pecks a kiss on Tina's cheek. "You look beautiful, Tina. I'm so glad you're here."
"You know I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Blaine thinks back to the day he and Kurt debated the presence of groomsmen and not-actually-brides-maids. Did it make any sense to have them? Did the gender make-up of the group matter? What would they call them? (Santana still insists on referring to herself and Rachel as "best bitches," but Kurt refused to print it on the program.)
He leans back in his chair, sips his coffee, and looks around the table at his brother and his best friends. Once he and Kurt had agreed that they wanted to include other people in the ceremony, deciding whom it would be was simple. Having the three people in front of him share this day feels as natural as… well, almost as natural as marrying Kurt.
Sam and Tina are the ones who helped put Blaine back together during his miserable year apart from Kurt. It's still a little painful for Blaine to remember that year - the distance and loneliness, the break-up and the regret. Brutal as it was, he ultimately discovered a new kind of friend in both Sam and Tina - not the supportive-but-formal Warblers who'd revered one part of him but not quite known the rest, and not the soulmate that he'd found in Kurt, but something different. People who loved him at his lowest and who saw his potential when all he could see was hurt. Those two had been with him through so much, he couldn't imagine not having them by his side on his wedding day.
Rachel and Santana, meanwhile, had not just been Kurt's first New York roommates but had bonded into the strangest kind of adopted family as they struggled through their first years on their own. The three of them were just as likely to be singing and dancing around the apartment together as they were to be throwing insults in each other's faces. For a trio of only children, they all somehow became the brother and sisters each never had. They might fight like cats and dogs, but they will also defend one another to the bitter end. Having Rachel and Santana stand with Kurt wasn't even a decision; it was a given.
Although Cooper is Blaine’s brother, they quickly deemed him too unreliable as a primary support system. Thankfully, his ego was easily soothed when they asked him to use his considerable talent to do a reading at the ceremony (hopefully with a minimum of pointing).
Mercedes and Kurt weren’t as close as they had once been, living on different sides of the country for years, now. But Kurt wouldn't even think of having someone else sing at the ceremony, and when he called her, she had accepted the invitation with a shriek that Blaine could hear from the other side of the apartment.
"Okay, Tina, you be the judge." Cooper flashes her a show smile. "Whose Nicholas Cage impression was better, mine or Sam's?"
Blaine laughs at the crazy trio in front of him. Having these people with him today is a gift. He knows he doesn't need anyone else to confirm the love he has for Kurt; he doesn't need anyone to validate his devotion. But knowing they are here to support them and their commitment to one another seems to give it a little extra weight, and he is grateful for it. No matter what they call them.
(He can't remember what Kurt finally put in the program - was it the boringly neutral "honor attendants," or did they go with the more tongue-in-cheek "groomsman and groomsmaids?"
"Don't worry what the program says. Just call them our people," Kurt had said to him. And so they are. Our people.)
He smiles and drains his coffee cup, letting the comfort of having his people nearby soak into his skin. The buzzing in his brain quiets down and he feels, simply, at peace.
“Alright, Blainey-days.” Tina snaps him out of his reverie. “If I don’t keep this train moving on schedule, Kurt will have my head. Time to go get pretty, boys!”
* * *
Kurt’s event-planning nerves kick back in on the way to the ceremony, riding in the limousine. His brain is swirling with the details of the day. Did the programs get dropped off in the right place? Was the florist on time? What if one of the string players gets stuck on the subway? And why isn’t the coordinator from the venue picking up the phone?
He has to physically restrain himself from running his hands through his perfectly-styled hair. He looks up to find all three of his girls eyeing him suspiciously. He may have muttered some of his worries out loud, apparently.
Rachel is the one who climbs into the seat next to him, grabs onto both of his hands, and tries to makes him meet her eyes. “Kurt, everything is going to be fine, okay? Everything is where it’s supposed to be.”
“But what if the florist couldn’t find those roses I liked?” His voice is squeaky and a little frantic; his heart is pounding. He feels like he’s forgetting something important, but can’t for the life of him figure out what it is, and it’s threatening to send him into a panic.
“Kurt, look at me.”
It’s the calm look on Rachel’s face that makes him pause. They lived together for long enough to know when one of them needs the other to be a rock. If Rachel, the biggest drama queen he’s ever known, has her calm face on, then he must be pretty far gone.
“What are you going to do today?” Rachel asks.
“Well, I mean, first we have to get there and then -”
“Kurt, what are you going to do today?”
Kurt stops his internal flailing and meets her eyes. He lets out a breath and holds her gaze. “I’m getting married to Blaine.” His smile comes back, and so does Rachel’s. His nerves quiet down and his head stops spinning.
“And if the florist didn’t find the roses, which I’m sure she did, but even if she didn’t, are you still getting married to Blaine today?”
Kurt’s smile grows, and his shoulders drop down from his ears. A sense of calm washes over him. “Yes. Yes I am.”
“Yes you are. The rest is decoration. It’s going to be beautiful, everyone is going to have a lovely time. But today you are marrying Blaine. That’s what matters.”
For neither the first time that day, nor probably the last, Rachel pulls tissues from her jeweled clutch and passes them around.
Kurt takes the tissue, dabbing his eyes though tears aren't really threatening to fall, as he settles back into his seat with a contented sigh.
Kurt loves obsessing over details. Details are what make clothes worth wearing. Details make life interesting. But for a crystal clear moment, he can see that there’s only one truly important detail today: he’s marrying Blaine.
* * *
Blaine sits on a leather chaise in the dressing room off the lobby. He can hear their guests gathering, making their way inside, finding seats. He can pick out some familiar voices above the crowd, and each flicker of recognition warms his heart. Across the room, Cooper is telling their parents a story they've heard before, but they react in all the right places as though it's the first time. His father and brother are the very picture of class in their tuxedos; let's face it, Anderson men were practically born wearing suits. His mother is breathtaking in a sparkling golden floor-length dress, which somehow manages not to be too gaudy or showy.
Blaine looks around and imagines all of the other grooms and brides who have sat in this room before him. Did they all feel this odd combination of butterflies and utter contentment? Were they this excited to see their other halves? Were they bursting with pride to announce to that room full of people, "I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine?" It's a surprising feeling of being connected to a world full of strangers he's never met, but who have been in this very place, in this very same moment of anticipation. There's a certain kind of peace in it, after standing on a soapbox for so many years, feeling like he needed to convince the world that his and Kurt's love was just as good as anyone else's. Today, no one needs convincing. Today, they're getting married, and it's both intensely special and completely mundane, in the most wonderful way.
Sam is slouched in a chair in the corner with Tina perched on the armrest. Blaine watches Tina lean down and whisper something in Sam’s ear, and they both stand and walk to Blaine’s side of the room. Sam plops down on the seat next to him, slapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. Tina kneels carefully in front of them, needlessly straightening their boutonnieres and patting their lapels when she's satisfied there's not a petal out of place.
"Look, dude, um." Sam's voice is a bit rougher than usual, and he pauses to look away and collect himself. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm really honored to stand up there for you guys. And I'm just really, really happy for you and Kurt." Blaine puts an arm around Sam's back and grins at his goofy and loyal friend. "I don't have, like, a big speech planned or anything. I know the rest of the day is going to be pretty crazy, so in case I didn’t get a chance to say it later, I just wanted you to know that I'm really proud to be your friend, and thanks for being so awesome all these years."
Blaine loops his arm around Sam’s neck and pulls him into a playful headlock, using the momentary height advantage to plant a kiss on top of his head. "Thanks, Sam. It means a lot to me to have you guys here."
"I'm just so happy to be here, Blaine!" Tina's voice cracks as she tries not to openly weep and ruin her makeup. "I'm so happy for you guys, and I'm so excited!" She grabs Blaine's hand and squeezes, and then there's a knock on the door. All six people in the room stop talking and look up.
Carrie, the event coordinator, pokes her head in. "Ready, everyone? Blaine, you ready?" Blaine stands and straightens his jacket. His voice seems to have momentarily left his body, so he just nods. "okay, Sam and Tina, come with me,” she says. “Cooper, you can go ahead in and take your seat in the front row. Mom and Dad? I'll be back for you in a minute."
Blaine turns to face his parents as the door clicks shut behind Sam, Tina and Cooper. According to the plan he and Kurt had come up with, the two sets of parents are the last to walk in before the grooms make their entrance. And now, here they are, the only ones left. It's really happening.
His mother seems to see the last-minute nerves on his face, or maybe her stomach dropped through the floor at the same time his did. She walks over and holds his face in both hands, carefully kissing his cheek before wiping off the hint of lipstick with her thumb.
"We love you, honey. Everything is going to be great, and your dad and I are so happy for you and Kurt." Blaine tries not to tear up at the affectionate tone in her voice.
His father walks over and claps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it and lingering, about the closest he ever gets to a hug. His eyes are shining, too, and Blaine thinks he's absolutely done for. "We're very proud of you, Blaine. We're proud of both of you. Congratulations, son."
"Thank you," Blaine chokes out. He has become accustomed, over the years, to a certain neutral formality from his parents. When he and Kurt announced their engagement, there had been hugs and handshakes, polite questions about the wedding. But if Kurt had never been rejected by Blaine’s parents, sometimes it felt like he’d never been explicitly welcomed, either. Hearing his mother and father say they were happy and proud - of both of them - might be the best gift he could ever hope to receive. "Thank you guys. I love you both."
Another knock from Carrie saves Blaine from a complete emotional breakdown, and his parents smile at him as his mother takes his father’s offered arm, and walk to their places.
For a moment, Blaine is alone. He catches his reflection in the mirror and instinctively smooths the front of his jacket and checks his bowtie. He takes a deep breath, looks himself in the eye, and smiles.
It's time.
* * *
Kurt spends most of the time in his dressing room pacing. It's not exactly a nervous movement, but he feels like he has so much adrenaline rushing through his body that it needs to get out somehow. Better to use it to move his limbs than to have it come snapping out of his mouth, since the people in the room with him are more dear to him than anyone - well, almost anyone. He feels ready to burst with the knowledge that Blaine is right across the hall, in a room that is probably a mirror-image to this one.
It's silly, really. They've lived together for several years, now. They've seen each other in every state of dress and undress, sickness and health, anger and joy. But Kurt Hummel is a man who appreciates ceremony and occasion. There's something about spending these last few hours getting ready on their own that marks this day as different, as special. It contributes to the heightened mood, the excitement, the desperation to see Blaine - his Blaine - and to grab hold of his hand, solidly tethering them together.
Carrie knocks on the door to collect Rachel and Santana. They each give Kurt one last squeeze on the arm and air-kisses to the cheek before taking their bouquets and walking towards the lobby. Rachel turns with a small wave before Carrie closes the door behind them.
Kurt turns to face his dad and Carole, sitting on the small leather couch. His dad looks great in the simple tuxedo, but as much as Kurt loves fashionable and well-fitting clothing, it's always a little strange to see his father without a flannel shirt and a baseball cap. Carole is much more fun to dress up, anyways, and is lovely in a strapless lilac gown with a chic and fitted shrug to cover her shoulders against the lingering chill in the air.
This is probably the happiest day of his life, but looking as his father and stepmother, Kurt is struck by a sudden sense of longing and loss. He is viscerally aware of who isn’t here.
He lowers himself down on one knee and faces Carole. He can barely form the words, and he doesn't want to bring sadness into this joyful occasion, but he knows he needs to say it.
"I wish he was here."
Finn had been such an unexpected gift in Kurt’s life. That they made it past the ugliness of Finn’s passive bullying and Kurt’s misplaced crush to become friends and brothers seemed a near miracle. That Finn’s life was snatched away from them, so unfairly young and just when Kurt was starting to appreciate the brother he never knew he wanted, is a constant ache in his heart. Even if they never had much in common, there was no question that they cared about each other, and Kurt would have been proud to have Finn standing next to him with Rachel and Santana, all easy grin and awkward limbs.
Carole manages a smile at her son’s memory. "Me too, honey. Me too. He would have wanted to be here so much."
Kurt marvels at the way grief changes over time. A few years ago, hardly anyone could mention Finn without bursting into tears. It’s not as sharp as it used to be - they can actually remember with a smile - but it still hurts.
She squeezes Kurt's arm. "He would have been so proud to stand up there with you."
Kurt nods and grabs Carole’s hand for a moment but can’t say anything further to her. He doesn't really believe in spirits, but if he did, he'd like to think that Finn's was one of two in the room with him right now.
As he turns to face his dad, they both let out a sigh at the same time, which turns into a laugh. It's the kind of laughing you do so that you don't cry. Or maybe you just do both.
"Your mom would have loved this, Kurt." Burt manages to speak without crying, and Kurt isn't sure how.
He's suddenly struck with the memory of photographs from his parents' wedding, and he's pretty sure that if he ever lost Blaine the way his father lost his mother, he might not be able to keep going.
"She would have thought everything was so beautiful,” Burt says, wavering a bit. “But I know that you being this happy would have been the greatest thing she'd ever seen."
Kurt gives his dad a watery smile. He wonders what it would have been like to have his mother there to help plan his wedding. What stories would she have told? What trinkets and traditions would she have wanted him to incorporate? It’s been a long time without her; Kurt is used to not having answers to questions like these, but that doesn’t stop him from wishing. He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at his eyes as he stands up.
“Hey, now, no crying,” says Burt, rising from the couch and patting Kurt on the arm with a smile. “This is a great, great day. And I know you’ll be mad if your eyes are all red in the pictures.”
Kurt manages a chuckle, because god, no, his face will not be splotchy in his wedding pictures, and there's the knock on the door from Carrie.
Kurt offers a hand to Carole. She squeezes it as she gets up and puts her free hand on Kurt's cheek, holding his eyes for a moment before walking to the door. Burt nearly crushes Kurt in a hug (just barely angled enough not to ruin the flowers pinned to their lapels). Kurt lets the feeling of warmth and acceptance and safety wash over him. No matter that he’s a grown man, about to be married for heaven’s sake, his father’s arms around his back will comfort him like he’s a little boy with a skinned knee.
"I am so proud of you, Kurt." Burt's voice is finally cracking, and Kurt squeezes his eyes shut. "I am so proud, and so happy for you and Blaine." He releases Kurt from the embrace, takes a step back, and claps his hands together with a grin. "Let's do this thing!"
Kurt laughs as his dad backs away towards the door and turns to Carole, who is reaching her hand out for him to take. She blows him a kiss and his dad winks, and the door closes behind them.
Kurt takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He has never in his life looked forward to something so much, and now it’s here. He spins once in place and clasps his hands together, smiling so big he wonders if his face will split in half.
It's time.
* * *
Blaine opens the door to step out of his dressing room as Burt and Carole are lined up, hand-in-hand, at the back of the aisle. They catch each other's eyes and smile, and then his in-laws-to-be are gone. Blaine rubs his hands together, stretches his neck side-to-side, and bounces on his toes as he watches the door across the hall. He feels like he's ready to take the stage.
The door opens, and out steps Kurt. Kurt. His Kurt. Blaine puts one hand to his chest where it feels like his heart is swelling a bit with fondness. You take my breath away, he thinks.
It's not as though he's never seen Kurt in formal attire before. And it's not as though there's anything particularly different about his hair or the cut of his tuxedo; it's stunning and fits him to perfection, of course, but that's simply how Kurt wears clothing. In fact, by Kurt's adventurous standards, it's practically sedate. There are no bright colors or bold patterns, and the the tiny details that made him fall in love with this suit over another are so subtle that the average person probably wouldn't notice until Kurt pointed them out.
But today, thinks Blaine, today Kurt is radiant. It's a kind of tunnel vision - it feels like the rest of the room has blurred out of focus and all he can see is Kurt. He is magical. He is perfection. He is mine and I am his. Radiant.
* * *
When Kurt steps out and sees Blaine for the first time, he feels momentarily transported, like sense memory or deja vu.
Blaine looks amazing, of course. His tuxedo is cut and tailored to show off his strong shoulders and his slim waist, and he’s always been a man who can pull off a tux. His smile is positively beaming and his eyes are soft, and Kurt is pretty sure his heart skips a beat at the idea that he gets to marry this gorgeous man.
But it's Blaine. His Blaine. Always and forever the prep school boy on a marble staircase. The one who sang to him in school courtyards and took his hand at the prom. The same Blaine who wraps himself around Kurt in the middle of the night, so they wake up in the morning as a tangle of limbs. The one who still, almost every day, takes his breath away.
He can still feel the swoop in his stomach and the tingle in his fingers from the first time Blaine kissed him. He knows the warmth of every touch and embrace. He knows the meaning of every quirky smile and raised eyebrow. If there are any nerves remaining, they aren't about Blaine. That's the simplest part of this whole thing - the boy on the staircase and the man standing in front of him - he chooses Blaine.
Kurt closes the distance between them, hand reaching out and ready to grab hold, fingers itching to lace together. It's only been a few hours since they were last together; they're apart for more than that on an average work day. But this is something different, something new. A beginning.
Blaine's hands are in Kurt's hands, on his waist, his shoulders, his cheek. Kurt isn't the most tactile person by nature. But he lives for Blaine's touch, which today feels particularly gentle and almost reverent. He opens his mouth to speak at the same time as Blaine and his words come out in a rush, tumbling and tangling with Blaine's.
"You look incredible."
"I missed you today."
"I love you so much."
"So much."
Kurt squeezes Blaine's hands and pulls them up to place a kiss on his knuckles. Blaine smiles at him, and Kurt can't help but smile back. His cheeks are already starting to ache from smiling so much, but that's an awfully nice problem to have.
The string quartet pauses ends once piece and starts the next, and that's their cue. Carrie smiles at them (was she there? Kurt didn't notice) and holds the door open as all of their friends and family stand up and turn to face them.
Kurt twines the fingers of his left hand together with Blaine's right.
Blaine looks him in the eye. "Ready for this?" he asks, as if Kurt has ever felt more ready for anything in his entire life.
Kurt draws himself up, smiles, and says, "Yes. Absolutely."
"Okay," Blaine says softly. "Here we go." He holds Kurt’s gaze for a second longer, then they turn towards the waiting crowd.
Hand-in-hand, Kurt and Blaine walk down the aisle together.
* * *
For all of the time and thought that went into planning the ceremony, Blaine finds that large parts of it seem to go by in a blur, especially when the justice of the peace is talking. She's a lovely woman, but Blaine is floating in his own little world right now, and Kurt is the sun and the moon and the stars. Anything outside of Kurt is just a pleasant buzzing in his ears. He feels a little bit bad, it's probably rude to tune out the person who is actually performing the act of marrying them, but he can't help it. Kurt's eyes are even more spectacular than usual today.
Blaine does tune in when Cooper stands to read their favorite e.e. cummings poem, and for once in his life, there is no pointing. There is no dramatic shouting. There is honest, genuine emotion in his voice, and Blaine's heart swells because he knows his brother isn't that good of an actor. He really is choked up for his baby brother's wedding.
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
The justice of the peace says something else - it was probably very moving, but Blaine really can't be sure at this point - and then Mercedes stands next to the string quartet to sing. Kurt's eyes are locked on Blaine's, and Blaine can read them like an open book; Kurt is on the edge of falling apart, and needs Blaine to be his anchor in this moment. Staring into Kurt's eyes isn't exactly a hardship; Blaine is all too happy to oblige while he lets Mercedes’ beautiful voice wash over him.
I want him everywhere
and if he's beside me I know I need never care
but to love him is to need him
everywhere, knowing that love is to share
each one believing that love never dies
watching his eyes, and hoping I’m always there
Vows. Oh god, it's time for vows. Blaine snaps back into reality and finds himself a little nervous. They'd written their own vows and had been working on them for a couple of weeks, trying to compare notes without giving too much away, but now it's actually time to say them out loud. What if they're too much? What if they're not enough? But then Blaine looks at Kurt's face, so open and full of affection, and he knows he'll be fine.
"Kurt." Blaine practically sighs his name. "I love you. I have probably loved you since the moment I first saw you, even if I didn't realize it right away." A soft chuckle ripples through their assembled guests, but Blaine's eyes never leave Kurt's.
"You are the strongest, bravest, most compassionate and creative person I have ever met. I am in awe of you, every single day. I am so honored that you have chosen to spend your life with me, and I am so excited to face everything that the future holds with you by my side. I promise that I will always love you, that I will always respect you and respect our life together, that I will always take care of you and be your biggest fan. I love you, and I am so, so proud to marry you today."
Blaine can hear the sniffs and rustling of tissues, but Kurt is so calm and happy in front of him that any residual nerves have vanished. He can see in Kurt's face that his words were enough. They were just right, and it was easy, because it was simply the truth.
But now it's Blaine's turn to listen, and his hands tremble just a bit in anticipation. Kurt is about to speak not just his mind, but his heart. Blaine is enthralled before he even begins.
"Blaine," Kurt begins, voice soft with affection but unwavering. "You flirted your way through a Katy Perry song, and I was done for." Blaine lets out a laugh, ducking his head at the memory and squeezing Kurt's hands. "Meeting you changed my life, and not just because you're the man I'm marrying today. I was at such a low point, and then you came in like a ray of sunshine and I knew, one way or another, that everything would be okay."
Kurt takes in a deep breath, and Blaine's heart aches at the memory of that first meeting. He knows now how strong Kurt is, but at the time, he was as close to beaten down as Blaine would ever see him.
"I was wrong, of course," Kurt continues. "Life with you is so much more than 'okay.' Your energy and optimism put joy into even the worst days. Your charm and affection make me feel like I'm living inside of an old Hollywood movie. Your kindness and loyalty make you the best friend I have ever known. Loving you is the greatest joy I have ever had, and I am so happy that I get to do it, every day, for the rest of our lives. I am so proud to be with you. I love you."
They lock eyes and stare for a beat, basking in the moment. Blaine has never felt so thoroughly adored as he does in this moment, and he hopes his words had the same effect on Kurt. He can feel the buzzing energy returning to his body; he’s shaking their joined hands back and forth and starting to bounce on his toes. The slightly heavy emotion in the air lightens a bit, and nearly everyone in the room lets out a soft laugh as he grins his toothiest grin at Kurt, who gives him an indulgent smile in return.
The justice of the peace laughs, too. “Let’s make this well and truly official, shall we?” Blaine nods frantically, unable to contain himself for one moment longer, and is delighted to see Kurt do the same. “Do you have the rings?”
Santana produces both rings, and Blaine can feel Kurt's hands tremble in his as they slip the rings on each other’s fingers and repeat the words whispered in their ears.
“Kurt, this ring is a token of my love. I marry you with this ring, with all that I have and all that I am.”
“Blaine, this ring is a token of my love. I marry you with this ring, with all that I have and all that I am.”
The red hot second that ring is on Blaine’s finger, he can no longer help himself. He pulls Kurt’s face close to his with two hands and presses their lips together with an urgency that has been building for hours - well, probably for years.
I’m kissing my husband, he thinks. My husband!
It's the same and yet completely different. Kurt's lips feel just as soft and perfect as they did yesterday. It's the same tiny nibble on Blaine's lower lip, the same gentle touch of tongues. But, then, this is something that is usually so private. Even after so many years together, they still don't often kiss in public, and certainly not with as much intimacy as this. Blaine feels Kurt's hand come up to his cheek, and it's the same touch he's known for years, but now he notices the smooth, hard surface of Kurt's wedding ring, resting against his jaw. It's incredible.
They break apart because Blaine is smiling too wide to keep going.
The applause is deafening.
* * *
The reception is gorgeous, exactly as Kurt knew it would be. The space is almost industrial-looking, all exposed brick walls and steel beams, sleek stainless-steel fixtures and dark wooden floors. But the clear glass bulbs of the cafe lights strung overhead and the stark white orchids on the tables give it a magical quality. Kurt knew from the first time they visited that it was perfectly Blaine, perfectly them: masculine but elegant, both vintage and modern, and a soaring high ceiling that gives the space a reverent feel, and takes your breath away when you first see it.
Kurt and Blaine spend most of the cocktail hour with their photographer: a NYADA friend with a gift for creative photojournalistic shots who is trying to "build his portfolio" and was willing to charge them a lot less money in exchange for using some of the shots in his promotional materials. Kurt thinks he stands with every conceivable combination of people, between their families and their attendants, but the time passes in the blink of an eye. He trusts his friend's judgment on which shots and poses to try and gets to spend most of the time gazing adoringly at Blaine, so what's to complain about? He's so blissfully happy he feels like he can just float as the evening moves along with no particular need for intervention.
The reception gets underway as they are officially introduced to the room and Rachel takes the microphone to sing for their first dance.
Some day, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight
On the dance floor, Blaine's arm is around his back, and they're moving effortlessly to the music. It's an old song. A classic. A standard. And for whatever reason, that's what triggers a lightbulb moment for Kurt. Newlyweds have used this song for ages. His parents could have danced to it. His grandparents, even. He's just like they were - except not. Because at the time of his grandparents' wedding, of his parents' wedding, Kurt and Blaine wouldn't have been able to have one of their own. Less than a decade ago, easily within Kurt's own memory, they would have had to go to another state to get married and then wonder if it would be worth the paper the marriage certificate was printed on once they got home. He is struck by both the absurd injustice of it all, and the incredible fortunate to be living in the time and place that they are.
Kurt doesn't spend a lot of time thinking about politics and policies. Blaine is more often the one to take up big causes and volunteer for organizations that crusade for social justice. It's not that Kurt isn't aware or doesn't care; it's just that he tends to fight his battles on a more personal level, rather than a political one.
But in this most personal of moments, dancing with his new husband, surrounded by loved ones, he can't help but recognize the big picture. Without the political changes, this personal moment could not happen. Not with the same weight as it did for his parents and grandparents, not with the same recognition.
Kurt sinks a bit further into Blaine's arms, leans his cheek into Blaine's temple, and feels grateful; not just for this man, this moment in his life, but for this moment in history. He mentally thanks the countless people who paved the path that allowed this moment to happen.
Smiling, he lets Blaine lead them, turning gracefully around the center of the dance floor, and if he knows his husband (husband!), there's probably a dip coming soon.
* * *
Blaine takes Kurt by the hand when the dance is through (and spinning Kurt into a dip at the very end had gone off without a hitch, thank you very much) and leads him to their table on the opposite end of the room from the band. The salads arrive, and Blaine tries to walk a fine line between appropriate table manners and inhaling his food. Not only is he suddenly starving - he suspects the near-constant vibration of excitement in his body is burning extra calories - but he remembers one of his castmates saying that she never actually managed to eat at her own wedding. He figures he’d better eat while he has the chance. He’s only a few bites in when there’s a lull in the background music and a distinctive throat-clearing over the microphone.
“Uh, hi, hello everybody. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Burt Hummel, Kurt’s dad.”
Blaine turns to Kurt, who drops his fork with a clatter and grabs Blaine’s hand. “Oh god,” Kurt whispers. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this.” Blaine squeezes his hand and pulls a spare handkerchief out of his pocket to hand to Kurt. Burt claims, sometimes, that he isn’t great with words. But Blaine knows that Burt never holds back when it comes to his love for Kurt, and there’s something about the straightforward, honest way he says it that has sent Blaine looking for a tissue on more than one occasion.
“Welcome, everyone. It’s great to see all of you here to support our boys on their big day.” Burt nods to Blaine’s parents at the next table, and they smile in return. Blaine sees him tug a little at his bowtie and suspects he’ll pull it loose the moment his job here is done.
“You know, when you first become a father, you can’t help but imagine what the future will look like for your kid. You think about these things, these big milestones. I’m not going to pretend that this is the wedding I pictured when I first found out I was having a son.” He grins and winks at Kurt, who laughs and shakes his head. It might have felt like a loaded comment a decade ago, but Blaine knows they can both both find it funny, now.
Burt’s smile fades from a laugh into something softer. “I have never been so glad to be wrong. Kurt, I am so proud of you, of everything you have accomplished, of how hard you’ve worked. I am so proud that, no matter what, you have always been yourself.
"When your mom died, I felt lost. I was so caught up in what I thought dads were supposed to do with their sons - sports and roughhousing and stuff - that when those things didn't fit, I didn't know what else I should do. I know there were some rough years in there, and I'm sorry if I fumbled it."
Kurt shakes his head a little, a wistful smile on his face. Blaine never knew Kurt and his dad as any different than they are now, but Kurt has told him about those difficult middle years. He can imagine 10- or 12-year-old Kurt, such an enigma to his father but so desperate to be understood.
"But then, you always were smarter than your old man." A few laughs ripple through the room, and the smiles return. "You were so brave, and you came out to me even though I really already knew, and suddenly it was like we could see each other again. And you taught me that what a real dad does is love his kid, and that's it. The rest was easy. I mean, I may have no idea what you're talking about when you start in on fancy designers and Broadway shows, but I know that you are my son, and I love you, and I'm proud of you."
Blaine feels tears prick the corners of his eyes, and can see half of the room openly crying through their laughter at this point. Kurt has tears quietly streaming down his face, and Blaine squeezes his hand a little tighter. But Burt isn't quite done.
"And then, Blaine shows up in my shop one day and asks if I've talked to my son about sex."
The room explodes in hoots and hollers, and Blaine tries to hide his face in his hands. He can't believe that day actually happened and is retroactively mortified for his righteously earnest younger self. But he still remembers the feeling of that day, one of his first real conversations with Burt. He remembers the slight pang of envy over how openly Burt loved his son. It’s not that his own father was ever unkind. At face value, Blaine probably fit more neatly into his parents’ vision than Kurt ever would with Burt, but the smooth-looking surface of the Anderson family always lacked the depth of the Hummels. Even teenaged-Blaine could see the difference and longed to be a part of something so special.
Of course, that’s exactly what happened. From the beginning, despite a gruff and protective exterior, Burt had let him in. He invited Blaine to Friday dinners and teased him and said he was proud of him as though he’d been there all along. And if the price of that acceptance is never quite living down a rather embarrassing few minutes from high school, well, then so be it.
"Okay, fine, I can never resist giving him crap about that one." Burt chuckles at the memory before continuing. "But Blaine, even from that day - that really awkward day - I knew how much you cared about my son. For a long time, it had felt like it was just me and Kurt against the world. But the way you came into his life, the way you looked at him, the way you talked about him - I knew there was another person who would be just as fiercely on Kurt's side as I am. You became a part of our family a long time ago, but today I am so incredibly happy to call you my son-in-law. I couldn't have picked a better man to love my son.”
Blaine’s head is spinning a little bit. He has always felt like he wanted to deserve Kurt. He wants to be worthy of this amazing man. To hear Burt, who means the world to Kurt, speak nearly as highly of Blaine - it’s an honor. It’s overwhelming.
"I'm almost done, so don't worry, I won't keep talking all night long. Just one little bit of advice for our pair of newlyweds, here. Look, you never know what life is gonna throw at you. You never know what's going to happen next." Burt looks over at Carole, eyes shining. They know what it is to love, and lose, and love and lose again. His voice cracks a bit, but he keeps going. "But what I do know is that everything is better, everything is easier, when the person you love is standing next to you. Anything is easier to face when you face it together. So remember that, when things get hard. Remember to stand up for each other, no matter what. When you've got each other, you're never alone."
Burt quickly wipes his eyes on his sleeve as he picks up his champagne flute. "To Kurt, to Blaine. To our boys. We are all so happy for you. Congratulations."
While the rest of the room murmurs "cheers!" and applauds the speech, Blaine feels Kurt’s hand tug him out from behind their table and up to the front of the room. He stands back to let Kurt and his father embrace, but within two seconds, both of them are reaching out an arm to fold Blaine into the hug. Neither of the Hummel men have ever been shy in welcoming him into their family, but in this moment, Blaine can feel the roots of it sinking into the ground. It’s not just Kurt’s family anymore, he thinks. This is my family, too. It’s ours.
Words are both amazing and totally inadequate on this day, so they'll have to settle for their arms around each other and their hearts beating close enough together that they can feel the love seep into their bones.
* * *
Kurt is all done crying after that. A few more speeches come from their friends, but they all seem to prefer the sharing of embarrassing stories to the more emotional memories.
In between dinner courses, Kurt makes his way to the table where his Vogue co-workers are sitting, while Blaine visits some slightly-distant Anderson relatives that Kurt isn’t sure he’s ever seen before. Splitting up for a few minutes, to make sure at least one of them says thank you to each table of guests, seemed like a good idea. But Kurt can feel Blaine’s presence from across the room, can feel the tug of an invisible thread connecting them.
He looks over and sees Blaine at his dapper, gentlemanly best. He’s shaking hands and accepting hugs and kisses from formal uncles and doting aunts. He’s not performing, he’s not demanding attention, but his natural magnetism has every person at the table hanging on his every word. Kurt knows the feeling. He’s barely been able to take his eyes off of Blaine since the day they met.
Kurt distractedly finishes greeting the Vogue table and tries not to break into a run as he crosses the room towards Blaine. More than usual, he simply does not want to be more than arm’s distance from Blaine if he doesn’t have to be. He laces his fingers in with Blaine’s and tucks his other hand in the crook of his elbow. The newness of being married, of Blaine being his husband, makes him want to be wrapped up in it, wrapped up in Blaine. It’s a heady thought.
“Hey you,” murmurs Blaine into Kurt’s ear when his great-aunt is done raving about the salmon they served for dinner. “Doing okay?”
Kurt feels the warmth of Blaine’s voice seep into his skin and leans his body into Blaine’s just a little more. “Mmm,” Kurt hums. “Perfect.”
“Me too,” says Blaine, as he brings their linked hands up to his lips and kisses each of Kurt’s fingertips.
Kurt can feel his fingers tingling as they move, together, to greet the next table.
* * *
The party is in full swing, and Blaine mentally pats himself on the back for being the one to have secured the band. He keeps in touch with some of the old McKinley High Jazz Band guys who have also landed in New York, and they pulled together a great group to play the wedding. They’ve got a deep repertoire, and after years of shenanigans in the high school choir room, none of them seem to mind when the reception turns into live-action karaoke. It’s a room full of New Directions, Warblers, and NYADA alums, so there’s no shortage of talent.
There’s also a photo booth set up in the corner, and Blaine sees Santana climbing out of it with Brittany, adjusting her dress. He shakes his head, he doesn’t want to know. (He surely will, soon enough. Maybe suggesting the booth wasn’t his smartest idea.)
Blaine is mid-conversation with Nick and Trent when he hears Kurt’s voice over the speakers.
“Hi, everyone! Blaine and I are so happy to have you all here with us today. I know a lot of our friends have been taking over the mic and providing entertainment, but now it’s my turn.”
He sees Kurt scan the crowd until they lock eyes.
“Blaine, my love, this one’s for you.”
Blaine’s heart swells with pride. Kurt doesn’t perform as often these days - demand for a spectacular countertenor is rare, which Blaine thinks is just criminal - but he absolutely loves hearing Kurt sing, especially when it’s just for him.
At last
My love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
Blaine’s mouth is suddenly dry. Kurt’s voice... He’s heard Kurt sing this song before, maybe in the shower, or quietly into Blaine’s ear as they dance slowly around their tiny living room. It’s a favorite of theirs, so obviously Blaine is thrilled to hear it as Kurt’s choice of serenade. But this time he’s performing it.
His voice is downright sultry. The song may be slow and romantic on the surface, but there’s an underlying sexiness to it that Blaine thinks is so Kurt, and it makes him feel weak in the knees. The music builds with a sort of abandon that Kurt - so often controlled and deliberate in his performances, even when he’s being vulnerable - almost never shows. Blaine, of course, is fully aware that Kurt is capable of it; he just didn’t think he’d see it in front of a hundred of their closest friends and family members. It has such an intimate connotation in Blaine’s head that seeing Kurt perform it so boldly in public feels almost scandalous.
Blaine is transfixed, watching Kurt on that stage. He’s pretty sure he can feel himself smiling, but Kurt fills the rest of his senses.
The song ends, and Kurt has brought the house down. Blaine, though, all but forgets to clap as he rushes to the stage.
“God, you’re incredible,” he says as he pulls Kurt in for a kiss, a little dirtier and with a little more tongue than he might otherwise do with their parents in the same room.
Kurt gives him a knowing smile and pulls Blaine in just a little closer. “Glad you liked it,” he whispers in Blaine’s ear.
Blaine shudders at the feeling of Kurt’s breath on his neck and, for the first time that night, wonders how much longer it will be until they can get out of there.
* * *
Kurt isn’t surprised when Blaine commandeers the piano. Blaine noodles around on the keys while he talks, and though it’s improvised Kurt easily recognizes the key and the chord structure. He grins, he knows what’s coming.
“Hey everybody, thanks again for being here. It really means a lot to see all of you. My beloved Kurt is an impossible act to follow, but you all know I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to sing this song to him.”
Kurt hears Blaine’s fingers land on that dissonant chord, and his heart swells as he hears the familiar lyrics and the voice that he has loved for years.
You think I'm pretty without any make-up on
You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong
I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down
It’s the song that started their story, that shattered them to pieces, and that has long since been reborn and reclaimed. Kurt remembers all the times Blaine has sung it to him, like signposts of their relationship. Boyish and flirty, side-stepping with the Warblers. Shattered at the piano at Callbacks, those terrible first months in New York. Cautiously over the phone after they reunited, testing the waters and offering it as something of an apology and a wish. Kurt thinks tonight’s performance holds pieces of their entire history in Blaine’s voice - earnest and heartfelt, hopeful, and straight into flirty and passionate.
Blaine winks at Kurt while he sings, and Kurt chews on his bottom lip as his heart starts to race. If 16-year-old Kurt thought the boy in the blazer was kind of hot when he sang this song, he’d probably faint at the sight of the man in the tuxedo, blatantly looking Kurt up and down, eyes blazing. Kurt feels his face heat up, and he doesn't think he can blame the half a glass of champagne he had an hour or two ago. He's long had a slightly possessive streak around Blaine, and it suddenly sinks in that the whole point of today is that Blaine is his. Forever and ever, his.
The song ends, and Kurt strides purposefully to the piano bench and climbs onto Blaine’s lap, for once in his life not caring one single bit how many people are there.
Kurt kisses Blaine, hard and fierce and mine, but it melts into something a bit softer with the pleased little hum that Blaine gives him in return, and Kurt’s fingers scratch a little along the nape of Blaine’s neck. He smiles and chuckles into the kiss when the room changes from applause for Blaine’s performance to catcalls and shouts of “get a room!”
"We will!" he yells in response, and kisses Blaine one more time for good measure before stepping down from the stage and smoothing down his jacket, a little bit embarrassed but mostly feeling rather proud of himself.
A short couple of songs later, Kurt hears the band say the words "last dance," and he doesn't think that could possibly be right. I mean, it's only... he lifts his wrist to check his watch. Oh. It's 11:30pm. Where did the night go?
But apparently their friends have one last trick up their sleeve, as all of the New Directions and Warblers in attendance take the stage for the final song.
If tomorrow is judgment day
And I'm standing on the front line
And the Lord asks me what I did with my life
I will say, "I spent it with you."
Kurt wraps himself in Blaine's arms in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by their friends and family. A motley crew of slightly drunken and disheveled show choir alumni are singing a Whitney Houston song, and he chuckles into Blaine’s temple. Of course this is their wedding. His dad and Carole are dancing nearby, as are the Andersons, and thankfully they all seem amused at the shenanigans.
No matter that it's an upbeat song, suddenly he has barely enough energy to remain upright. Kurt’s eyes drift closed as he lets Blaine support a little more of his weight. It’s been an amazing day, but a long one. The anticipation and the adrenaline that he’s been running on all day seems to be rapidly washing out of his bloodstream (and, he realizes, Blaine was right - they’ve barely eaten any of the food they had so carefully chosen).
If the way Blaine is curled into him is any indication, he must be just as exhausted.
"Hey," Blaine mumbles into Kurt's neck.
"Hey, yourself."
"Y'know what?"
"What?"
Kurt can feel Blaine's smile against his skin. "We're married."
Kurt wraps his arms even tighter, one hand pulling at the back of Blaine’s neck, trying to get him even closer. "We are. You're my husband." Kurt smiles as he feels the word pass his lips. He never knew such a strangely formal word could feel so inviting.
"Mmm," Blaine hums. “Say it again.”
Kurt leans in so his lips brush against the shell of Blaine’s ear, “my husband.” It’s intoxicating to say. “My husband.” He feels Blaine shiver and wants to keep saying it over and over again.
“C’mon,” says Blaine. “Let’s get out of here."
"Blaine, it's our wedding. I don't think we can just leave." Kurt’s protest is half-hearted; amazing as this day has been, surrounded by the love and support of so many people, he’s ready to be somewhere quiet and private, just the two of them.
"Kurt, it's our wedding. We can do whatever we want." Blaine's eyes sparkle with adoration and a touch of mischief as he calls Kurt’s bluff. "Come on, we've said hello and thank you and 'I love you' to every single person here. There's nothing left to say, the party's over anyways. Let's go."
Kurt steps back with a smile and holds out his hand. Blaine takes it and follows Kurt as they wind their way through the hall, between tables and knots of people in conversation, barely managing a couple of smiles and waves to the few friends who notice them leaving. Kurt doesn’t let Blaine stop to make polite excuses; they don’t hug anyone goodbye. There’s a brunch sometime tomorrow, so he knows they’ll have another chance to see their parents and close friends.
Just before they reach the exit, Kurt feels a tug on his hand as Blaine pauses.
“Wait, hold on a sec,” Blaine says softly. He pulls Kurt back a few steps and places his hands on Kurt’s shoulders, gently turning him to face the room.
Blaine wraps an arm around his waist as they take one more look at the party winding down. Kurt no longer sees all of the decorative choices he made, lovely as they were. He sees loosened ties and abandoned high heels and the happy faces of some of the most important people in their lives.
Blaine leans in to speak quietly into Kurt’s ear. “Thank you for our wedding.”
Kurt smiles and tips his head to rest on Blaine’s. “Thank you for marrying me,” he replies.
Blaine, ever the gentleman, holds open the door to the cool night air. Kurt pulls him in for another short but fierce kiss before they cross the wide sidewalk to the waiting limousine. The chauffeur is ready for them, opening the door with a smile and a nod, and Kurt steps gracefully into the car. Blaine climbs in after him, grinning into another kiss as the door shuts behind them and they pull out into the New York City night.