Blaine was excited.

Kurt had been in Paris for 5 weeks, definitely the longest amount of time they’d spent apart since Blaine’s senior year when Kurt had been in New York, living the dream, and Blaine missed him. Adjusting Lucy, their 3 year old daughter, on his hip, he walked into the majestic hotel just outside JFK that Kurt was staying in until tomorrow when he would be back at home with Blaine and Lucy. And this time, Blaine would be sure not to let him get away for a very long time.

“Hello there, we’re here to see Kurt Anderson-Hummel. But it’s a surprise.” Blaine said to the receptionist behind the main desk, grinning brightly as Lucy tangled her little hands into his curls.

“Room 505,” the woman said, not looking up from her laptop as she typed away with polished 4inch acrylics and a sour face.

“Thanks”, he said brightly, walking away from the reception desk toward the elevators. No one was going to rain on his parade today. Blaine grinned as Rachel Berry’s face swam in his mind, a flashback to high school of Kurt and her singing and dancing around the choir room.

“Daddy,” the small, curly haired girl with Kurt’s eyes and a pink dress turned in Blaine’s arms to face him, “are we going to see Papa now?” It had always amazed Kurt and Blaine how, even with Kurt’s sperm and Rachel’s eggs, Lucy had managed to achieve curly brown hair. He ruffled them before answering, laughing at her impatience.

“Yes, honey. We’re going in this magic flying box and it’s going to take us straight to Papa.” Lucy laughed at this, a symphony of soprano notes. Well, what else could be expected from Kurt Hummel’s influence? Right on cue, the elevator doors opened with a happy ding, and Blaine walked in, pressing the silver button with number 5 engraved above it. The doors slid closed, and Lucy instinctively moved closer to Blaine’s chest, fisting her tiny hands into his waistcoat. Knowing he was seeing Kurt the weekend after fashion week, Blaine had tried to dress in the nicest way possible, a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up from chasing a 3 year old around all day, dark washed jeans tucked into black lace up combat boots, with an intricately hand embroidered waistcoat, an anniversary present from his loving husband. The elevator came to a stop, the doors parting and Blaine walked out onto the corridor.

“Walk, Daddy.” Lucy grinned at Blaine before struggling profusely in his arms to get to the floor.

“Alright, just hold my hand, okay?” he said, kneeling down to his daughter’s height and straightening her dress before taking her hand and setting off in the direction of Room 50, Lucy attempting to run forward, giggling quietly to herself, giddy at the anticipation of seeing her Papa for the first time in weeks.

At last, Blaine pulled her to a stop outside a white door, complete with a very modern door unlocking system, marked clearly with an ornate gold room number, announcing that this was in fact number 505. Coughing once, he knocked on the door, butterflies coming alive in his stomach. After waiting for 30 seconds, Blaine knocked again, the butterflies quickly turning into panic. There was a thump on the other side of the door, before the lock clicked and Kurt was standing there, hair messy, clad in a black robe with a look of panic on his face. It quickly transformed to happiness, love and a flicker of something that Blaine couldn’t place.

“Papa!” Lucy shouted, before wrapping her tiny arms around one of Kurt’s legs and smiling so widely, her face could’ve split in two.

“Hello, beautiful girl!” Kurt said, smiling brightly down at her, before picking her up where she immediately buried her face in his neck.

Blaine stopped breathing.

When Kurt picked Lucy up, his robe had gaped slightly at the top, uncovering a smattering of bruises and unmistakeable hickeys along his protruding collar bone. Kurt glanced up at Blaine, smiled brightly, before bringing his hand up to run it along his neck into his hair, a greeting motion that Blaine had memorized.

Blaine felt sick.

He ducked out of the way of Kurt’s hand, tears forming in his eyes as they ran along the line of markings from another man’s mouth stained into his husband’s skin. Kurt looked confused before Lucy came to his rescue.

“Papa, did you hurt yourself?” she wondered aloud, tracing a line around one of the unmistakeable hickeys. Kurt’s eyes flashed up to Blaine’s, guilt running through them, and apology and explanation on his lips.

“Oh, honey,” Kurt said, glancing down at the little girl cradled to his chest and simultaneously adjusting his collar, covering the marks, “I just burnt myself with the hairdryer this morning! I was in such a rush to see the both of you.”

“Come on, Luce. Let’s go and wait downstairs for Papa. We can colour some pages in your book. You know, the one with Princess Belle?” Blaine said quickly, avoiding Kurt’s eyes as much as possible. “I booked us a table at that Italian place that you like in the Time Warner Center. Thought we could celebrate you getting home, if you’re up for it. You must be very tired after the week you’ve had.” Blaine couldn’t help the hate that shot through his eyes towards his husband.

“Blaine, that sounds amazing.” Kurt’s eyes were leaking all of the emotions previously hidden inside as Blaine looked at him. Kurt handed Lucy over, promising he’ll see her soon, before pulling Blaine, who immediately tensed up, into a hug. “Please, not in front of Lucy. I promise I’ll explain everything when we get home.” Blaine nodded stiffly once, trying not to inhale the smell of another man’s aftershave polluting the sweet aroma of Kurt’s body. “I’ll see you downstairs in a bit, baby.” Kurt said, directing his attention to the toddler in Blaine’s arms. “You can show me the new colouring book Daddy bought you!” Lucy clapped her little hands and giggled.

“Okay, Papa.” She chirped, before turning to Blaine. “Let’s go! You can colour in her dress!”

“Okay, Luce. Let’s go. See you later Kurt.”

Then, without even a backward glance, Blaine walked away, shattering internally.

*

Blaine was moving the yellow pen in a practised motion, not even looking at the direction or neatness of the lines as he coloured in a Disney princess for the 5th time that day. Lucy was colouring the Beast in orange, her brown pen sitting underneath the leather sofa in the intricately designed living room, everything screaming Kurt Hummel.

“Daddy, will Papa be down soon?” Lucy said, sighing at the drawing. Blaine looked up from the paper, and smiled half-heartedly at his daughter.

“Don’t worry, honey. He’ll be here soon,” Blaine reassured her, ruffling her unruly curls. Lucy wasn’t looking at Blaine though, she was concentrated on the elevator doors opening, and the man that entered the lobby, eyes scanning the room.

“PAPA!!!” She screeched, before running from the couches to where Kurt was standing, a smile on his face as he took in the little girl running towards him.

“Hey, baby” Kurt whispered into her hair as his picked her up, Lucy’s face going straight to the crook of his neck. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Over there, with Princess Belle.” She said, giggling. “He was colouring with me.”

Blaine looked up reluctantly as Kurt approached him, their daughter cuddled to his chest. Shoving the unfinished colour pages into his satchel, Blaine stood, sanding his hands together. “We should get going, or will miss the reservations.” Blaine mumbled, not meeting Kurt’s eyes, instead focusing on a particularly interesting piece of wall.

“Okay.” Kurt said sadly, offering Blaine the hand that wasn’t holding Lucy to his chest. Blaine silently declined, instead putting his free hand in the pocket of his jeans before turning and walking toward the revolving doors, before Kurt could see his tear-filled eyes.