“Yes?” That voice still sent a shiver up his spine. It was actually a pretty normal voice, but to Kurt it was harsh and punishing. The speech he’d planned flew out of his mind. He felt 18 again. “Hello? Hello? I have things to do, so you might want to start talking.”

“I – I -”

“You what? Do you have any idea what my time is worth? Who is this?”

“Mr Anderson, my name is Kurt. We’ve actually met before.”

The voice paused.

“Kurt who?” he asked suspiciously.

“Kurt… Anderson. Well, Anderson-Hummel. I’m Blaine’s husband.” There was another pause. Kurt closed his eyes, praying Alexander wouldn’t hang up. He heard slow, deep breathing.

“You… you got married?” Alexander swallowed. He’d tried so hard not to think about this. He’d spent so many years telling people his son had moved away that he’d started to believe it himself. Images of his son all grown up in a suit, dancing, cutting a cake, all those things he’d pictured when Blaine was little, all came flooding back to him. He blinked, trying to shut them out. He tried to keep it together, even though that dull ache had started again in his stomach, the one he thought had finally gone. “Congratulations.” Kurt looked at the phone, confused. “Is that what you called to tell me? Why couldn’t Blaine do it himself? Why shouldn’t I just put this phone down?”

“No, no, please! Blaine actually doesn’t know I’m calling you. I just, we, I didn’t know who else to call. We need your help.”

***

Blaine met Rebecca in college. She was fascinating, and they’d hit it off immediately. She was pre-med, planning to become a surgeon, and she was driven and ambitious. These traits applied to her personal life as well as her studies; she knew how to party and often convinced him to stay out longer than he really wanted to. That being said, he always ended up enjoying himself. She was just one of those girls that everyone gravitated towards. She always seemed to be laughing, even when she was cramming for an exam or right after throwing up behind a club. Blaine didn’t mind holding her hair back. It was worth it for such a good night, and she made the distance between him and Kurt bearable. They were on opposite sides of Manhattan, and both constantly busy with rehearsals and papers, but they both got through it and it was largely thanks to Rebecca keeping Blaine busy.

Even now, when they’d all graduated and we working ridiculous hours, her at the hospital and Kurt and Blaine at a different theatre every week, they stayed close. She’d swap a shift for an even tougher one just so she could go to dinner at their house. Within minutes, she and Blaine would be laughing as if they were back at college, and would be laughing at them, and they would eat and drink until 2am, when she would say ‘Right, I better leave you to it. You boys have a lot of sex to catch up on,” and she’d kiss them both and keep shouting back at them as they stood in the doorway until she was out of sight. It was on one such night when the idea came up.

The three of them had finished their meal hours ago, but they were still gabbling away, plates uncleared, discussing Rebecca’s job. Ironically it seemed more dramatic than Kurt and Blaine’s put together, and they were both actors.

“So she’s screaming the place down, and he’s standing there, dumbstruck. The guy doesn’t have a fucking clue what to do. He keeps whimpering encouraging shit, like ‘that’s it, honey, you’re doing so well,’ and she’s like ‘FUCK. YOU’. She doesn’t give a fuck what he has to say, because as far as she’s concerned it’s this bastard’s fault she’s there. And we have to be professional and get the baby out and all that crap, but we all kinda wanted to see how long we could leave it, how far she’d go, because I was like 80% sure she’d have killed him if she’d had another hour. So anyway, she keeps yelling at him, and she’s just wasting all her energy screaming when she’s supposed to be pushing, so I tell him to get the fuck out and I tell her to shut the fuck up, and we’re all working for the kid now. It was like ER. This kind of dramatic shit is why I wanted to do it in the first place. I felt like fucking Wonder Woman. I just swept in there and got the kid out and shipped her off to the maternity unit and for a second I had my hands on my hips and I was just standing there, like some tough, victorious motherfucker. It was awesome.” Rebecca swore a lot. Especially when she’d had a drink and she was talking about work. Kurt and Blaine stared at her in disbelief and the three of them cackled for ten minutes. “The guy’s face when it came out, though. I mean, he was a jackass, but he was a fucking happy one. It was cute.” She took another gulp of wine as Kurt and Blaine looked at each other with a small smile. She tilted her head, suddenly seeming much more sober. “So, have you guys thought about kids and stuff? I mean, you’ve been married for what, a year? You should hurry up before your ovaries dry up or something.” They both took a breath. They hadn’t really discussed it. Well, not seriously. They hadn’t made plans or anything. It was just an unspoken agreement that they wanted it to happen. They really wanted it.

“We haven’t really-”

“I don’t know-”

“Bullshit. I know those looks.”

“What looks?” Kurt didn’t like the idea that she could read him so easily, even though she’d been doing it for years. She smirked.

“That adorable, ‘Hey-Kurt-hey-Blaine-imagine-us-with-kids-imagine-their-tiny-clothes-imagine-their-tiny-hands-and-feet-and-the-future-oh-I-love-you-so-much’ look. It’s kind of your main look. Have you seriously not spoken about it?”

“I guess we’ve never had to,” Kurt said, still smiling at Blaine, “it’s always been a given. Hasn’t it?”

“Yep!” Blaine slipped an arm around Kurt’s waist, pulling him in clumsily and kissing his cheek. “I mean, I’ve been trying to get pregnant for years, but nothing.” Kurt slapped his leg, but grinned at him. “But seriously, maybe we should start thinking about it. You know, which route do we want to go down? Adoption?”

“Maybe. I don’t really mind, either way. Um, are we really having this discussion now? Like, seriously?”

“Why not? I mean, it’s not like we can just screw and then in nine months, boom, baby. Doesn’t it take years sometimes? But I’ve kind of always liked the idea of surrogacy. Then it would biologically be ours. I mean, a little baby version of you? Tell me that wouldn’t be the cutest thing ever.” Kurt laughed.

“Well, I don’t know. It wouldn’t have curly hair. And it would probably try to give us a lot of manicures.”

“True. Could you bear to let anyone other than you touch my nails?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe if it was really adorable.”

“Ugh, how did you get all cute again so quickly? I thought we were talking technicalities? Ins and outs of turkey basters, etcetera.” Blaine snorted. Kurt looked pensive.

“Well, what would we have to do? Find an oven and just…” he made some crude gesture with his hand that was supposedly meant to represent insemination. “Just mix our stuff together and put it in?”

“No, no, we’d have to find an egg donor too. Then we’d be the only ones with any legal claim to it.” They weren’t laughing any more. This was The Baby Talk. “I mean, we’d have to cover ourselves. We’d need to make sure the surrogate couldn’t change her mind or anything.”

“Does that really happen? Who would do that?”

“I wouldn’t.” They both stared at her. “What?” She took another sip. “I think I could be a pretty good oven. You can still get hammered when you’re pregnant, right?” Their mouths opened slightly to correct her, and she rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Guys, I’m a fucking doctor. What’s wrong with you? I’m just saying, I could handle it. I love my job way too much to go stealing babies or anything, and I’m super healthy, and I’m your best friend. I could just have it, hand it over, go back to work. You guys get a baby and I get to eat for two for a while and not care about getting fat. And you two would obviously be my bitches while I was carrying your cub. I want to get in on these manicures and shit.”

“Becca,” Blaine touched her hand, “are you serious about this?”

“I don’t see why not. And you guys don’t know this for obvious reasons, but my vagina is really strong. I’m extremely proud of it, and unless I do it for someone else I’ll never get to give it the ultimate test.” Any other day, this would have cracked them up. Tonight, they looked at her, then at each other, eyebrows raised. They looked back to Rebecca, who was running a fingertip round the edge of her plate and sticking it in her mouth, closing her eyes to savour the sauce. She made a noise that would have been inappropriate in any other company because, well, Kurt had made it, and when she opened her eyes again, Kurt and Blaine’s were wide and staring at her. They were both biting their lips, and Blaine had his hand on Kurt’s arm. They were clearly trying not to freak out. It would be way too early, and nothing was set in stone, and she was drunk and so were they so they couldn’t get ahead of themselves, but…

“OK. Here’s what we’ll do. I know you don’t want to go nuts yet, because you think I’ll sober up and change my mind, so I will go to bed and tomorrow I will make my offer again. And we’ll make a baby. And I’ll be the coolest aunt ever because I’ll teach it lots of bad words and let it play with scalpols.” She kissed them both on the heads and grabbed her bag, heading for the spare room. Kurt snapped out of his daze and stood up.

“Becca?” She turned around. “Where are you going?”

“I’m your sacred baby house now. Can’t have me wandering the streets at this time of night. Also, I don’t have cab fare on me. Night!” She disappeared down the corridor. Kurt looked back to Blaine.

“Are we doing this? Are we… Are we trying to have a baby?”

“Uh, I think so. I don’t know. Are we?” He stood up and walked over to Kurt. “She means it you know. She would totally do it. And I’ve heard nothing but praise for her girl parts.” Kurt didn’t laugh. He took Blaine’s hands.

“Blaine.” He sniffed. His eyes were stinging a little.

“I know. Can you imagine it though? I mean… wouldn’t it be perfect?” Kurt bit his lip again, smiling. He nodded slowly, then quickly threw his arms around Blaine’s neck, nuzzling into his hair. Blaine squeezed him and kissed his cheek as he felt him nodding.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “perfect.”