Epilogue

… And they lived happily ever after.

Sure, there were some bumps in the road:  finding enough clothes to slip into so they could spread the awesome news of an official proposal to anyone who would listen, groomzilla times two during the planning stages, and finally Blaine going missing after his bachelor party with Santana.  In Vegas.  For three days.

All of that is gravy though, because they've finally made it to the day they've been working toward since the Lima Bean and broken ribs and the misery of New York and two full years of not quite making it back to each other.

It's September twelfth twenty-twenty, and not a cloud is in the sky.  Kurt is standing in the shade, right outside of any sunshine that could color his skin and ruin his day.  He looks out into the city they've made their own together.  The Golden Gate is brightly colored with the sun, waves crashing into it below.  It's a picture-perfect location for a small, intimate wedding and the impeccable depiction of his relationship with Blaine:  a wedding at the foundation of a bridge, the strongest it's ever been.  He smiles and brushes off each of his arms of any remaining lint and cracks his neck to both sides.  He's ready.

“You got this, lover boy?”

Kurt turns around and grins at Santana.  She looks absolutely stunning in a beige lace bridesmaid dress and crystallized stilettos.  She's the epitome of beauty today and Kurt gasps at just the sight.

“I'm fine.  How's B?”

“Not so great.”  Santana is radiant.  “He was talking about how he might die from nerves or some shit.  He wasn't making any sense.”

Kurt laughs and shrugs.  “He's not going to die.  What a drama queen.”

“Ready for the reveal?”

“Fuck, San.  This is it.”  Kurt blinks.  “Go get him!”

“I love you, Lady.”  Santana kisses his cheek. 

“I love you too, honey.  More than words.”

They hug and uncharacteristically peck on the lips.  They love each other and this friendship is forever.

The photographer's assistant comes over and leads him up a hill and behind a tree.  He closes his eyes tight for good measure and his heart is beating erratically out of his chest.  He says a quick prayer to a god he doesn't believe in and holds his breath as he hears the crunch of footsteps behind him, and as he feels Blaine's back up against his.

xK&Bx

There's no way he can fucking do this.  Blaine is going to trip down the hill toward the ledge and then he's going to plummet to his death by way of the San Francisco Bay.  He has a clear view of each guest's arrival, which is making him even more nervous because the number he's counting in his head just surpassed fifty.  There are fifty witnesses here to watch Blaine make a complete fool of himself when he tumbles, like a human somersault, straight into disgustingly freezing water.  Like, colder than the Titanic.  Or whatever.  He can't do this.

“Hey, loser.  You ready?” 

Jimmy crosses his arms across his chest then immediately unfolds them as if he forgot he was dressed in Armani and Italian linen appears to wrinkle.  A lot. 

Blaine stares at him with wide eyes.  “No.  This is the most terrifying moment of my life, Jim!  What the fuck am I doing?”

“You'll be fine.  Santana told me to get you for the reveal picture or whatever.”

“Tell Kurt I can't do this.”

“No way, man.  You know I'd get shot.  Come on… pictures.”  Blaine flinches when Jimmy slaps his back as hard as ever and pushes him up toward the hill.  He focuses quickly on the back of Kurt's head, the muscles stretching across his back in his tuxedo, the bulge of his perfect ass in his tailored-to-the-centimeter pants, and somehow all the butterflies in his stomach float away and everything is alright.  Kurt, his very soon-to-be husband, is about to see him for the first time in a day and a half and on their wedding day, no less.  Their wedding day.  Blaine is going to be fine. 

He turns and situates himself up against Kurt's back and exhales for seven long seconds.  He slouches his shoulders, arches his back, swallows the saliva pooling on his tongue.  Just Kurt's presence calms him; just Kurt's presence ignites a fire.

“Hey, pretty.”

“Good day, Mister Pretty.”

“Mister pretty?  As in the husband of pretty?”  Blaine laughs and jiggles his shoulders like a cartoon character.  His eyes, he knows, are squinty and happy.  There's no place he'd rather be.

“As in the husband of pretty.”  Kurt giggles.  “Are you okay?”

“I am now.  Are you… okay?”

“I am.  Do you want to see me?”

“I do.”

“Blaine… you can't say-” The small crowd watching them – Carole, Burt, Cooper, Jimmy, Steve, Santana, and Willa – abrupt in laughter.

Blaine interrupts.  “Yes, Kurt.  I want to see you now.”

The photographer chimes in.  “On the count of three, then, gentlemen.”  Blaine turns his head to see the flashes start.  “Three…”

“Two…”  Kurt says.

“One.”  Blaine responds and turns around in the same millisecond as Kurt. 

Blaine grins sheepishly and then looks down at his feet as he blushes because Kurt is staring sexual positions directly into his eyes. 

“Blaine Devon, you look…”

Blaine gazes into Kurt's storm of slate and may actually witness a collection of greys and blues swirling around his irises.  There are no words in Blaine's vocabulary to correctly describe the way he feels when he looks at Kurt in this moment.  He allows his jaw to drop, slacked and wanton.  He leans in.

“Uh, uh.”  Kurt leans back and puts his pointer finger to Blaine's lip.  “Not until we are husbands.”  He checks him out openly.  “You are ravishing.  Stunning.  The most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”

“There are no mirrors in Kurt Hummel-Anderson's world.”

“Vomit on my wedding day?  I prefer not to, thanks.”

Blaine laughs, giggles, cackles in delight.  They stare at each other and nod.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Everyone seems to take their places according to yesterday's rehearsal.  Kurt steps up to find his place but Santana grabs at his arm.  Blaine watches the exchange and the look Kurt gives her, as if she's stopping him from marrying the love of his life. 

“Wait, you guys.  I just… I have a wedding present for you two that I don't want to get lost in the shuffle and I think now is a perfect time to give it to you.  Could you just… hang back with me a second?”  Santana can't look into their eyes and she's jittering with nerves, clearly.  “Please.”

“Santana?”  Blaine tilts his head and looks at Kurt for help.

“Um, honey.  We're kind of on a schedule here.  Can we do this after?”

“Now is really the right time for this, I swear.”

Kurt and Blaine exchange a look and follow Santana away from the crowd for a few steps.

“So you know that I love you both like brothers and without you I'd be-”

“Stripper.”

“Right so, um.”  She pulls a small rectangle-shaped box out from between her boobs.  “I really, really love you guys more than I ever thought possible and I just really need you to have this before you get married.”  Santana sighs.  “Just open it before I have a heart attack.”

Blaine takes it from her and looks at Kurt.  He opens it to reveal a… what the fuck is this?

“Honestly, Lopez.  What the fuck is this and why would you ever-”

“I'm pregnant.”

“You're…”

Kurt gasps and starts jumping up and down with tears in his eyes and a fist in his mouth.  It takes Blaine a full thirty seconds to honestly remember that Santana is a lesbian and that they've inserted his sperm regularly for a few months now, in hopes of Santana becoming their surrogate. 

“Oh my God.  Oh my God!  Kurt!  Pretty.  Holy shit.”

“Daddies, B.  We're going to be daddies!”

“Oh my fuck.  What the shit?  Kurt.”

“I love you so much!” 

Blaine nearly falls backwards by the tackle Kurt's capable of, forcing him to also jump up and down.

“I love you, Blaine.  I love you so much.”  Kurt applies hard pressure to Blaine's lips then snatches Santana's face between his hands and kisses her lips too.  “I love you both so much, holy shit.  We're going to be daddies!”

“I get that, I totally do.  But don't you guys want to be married daddies?  Your guests are kinda waiting.”  Santana smirks and bites her lip.

Blaine laughs and hugs her tight, twirling her in the air.  “Thank you, San.  Who knew you'd be my baby mama when you handed me that map?”  He puts her down.  “I owe you my life, baby.  I love you so much.”

“I really don't want to be carrying your bastard child, though.  So if you could please hurry up and put a ring on it?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Come on, pretty.  We have to go get married.”  Blaine holds out his hand and Kurt takes it, their fingers quickly and quietly becoming tangled in each other.  “Ready?”

“Ready!”