“Rise and shine, little brother!”

Blaine groaned and turned over, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “Uh-uh. Bed warm,” he mumbled into his pillow. The scent of coffee floated over from the other side of their room at the Hotel Chelsea, and despite his desire to go back to sleep, he could feel himself growing more awake.

“Come on! Up, up, up!” Cooper exclaimed cheerfully, and suddenly the covers were ripped from Blaine's grasp. His eyes shot open, most definitely wide awake, as his body was assaulted with the chill, conditioned air. He blinked, curling in on himself to try and retain some warmth, and Cooper waved a steaming mug under Blaine's nose before setting it on the bedside cabinet.

“Mmph. What time is it?” he rasped, sitting up to roll his neck and shoulders before stretching his arms above his head. He winced at the sound of his bones cracking and settling, and briefly wondered if he was getting old.

“Six,” Cooper said as he pulled back the drapes and opened the doors out onto the balcony. “Come on, up. Come and watch the sunrise.”

Blaine sighed—his brother had inherited their parents' capacity for not only tolerating, but enjoying early starts, whereas the gene seemed to have skipped him entirely—and shuffled out after Cooper, taking his coffee with him. Cooper was already reclining into his own patio chair when Blaine pulled his own over, dropping heavily into his seat and hooking his toes underneath the wrought-iron guard. It was already warming up, and the report he pulled up on his BlackBerry told him that the weather would be beautiful. All that was left to do was wait.

Blaine blew over the surface of his coffee and had drunk almost half of it before the taste caught up with his sleep-muffled brain. He swallowed with a splutter. “Coop, is there booze in this?” he managed in between coughs.

“Bailey's,” Cooper told him, thumping his back for good measure. “Thought maybe you could use some courage.”

“I'm not nervous,” Blaine said, and switched his mug with Cooper's.

The thirty minutes that followed was spent mostly in a comfortable silence, simply taking in the view of New York coming back to life after its brief slumber. The sounds of car horns and killer heels coupled with the scents of breakfast and gasoline floated up to greet them, and Blaine briefly raised his coffee to the brightening horizon, offering up a silent 'thank you and good morning' in reply.

*

7:10am

“Kristy, if you don't get out of bed right this second, I will cast the entire contents of your wardrobe into the Hudson. And I will feel good about it,” Kurt spat at the blonde, who simply stretched luxuriously and pulled herself upright at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Rein it in, Hummel,” she said with a smirk, “save it for the friendly neighborhood bitch.”

“Santana's not even awake yet?” Kurt exclaimed, and turned on his heel to march into the living room, filing away Kristy's satisfied grin in the back of his mind and vowing to turn it all back on her whenever she decided to settle down and it was the most important day of her life. He'd been up since around 5:30, having slept fitfully without Blaine's familiar warmth curling around him like a cocoon. He had dressed quietly and took a cup of tea up to the roof, sitting in one of the many rickety, abandoned chairs and watching the sunrise over Manhattan, wondering if Cooper really had made good on his promise to make sure Blaine was doing the exact same thing.

As with all wedding days, however, the minutes were running away from him and he did not have time for this shit. Blaine had given them a schedule, and Kurt was going to stick to it if it was the last thing he did—the final item on the schedule was '3:00pm - marry me! :)' and, Kurt mused, if that was the last thing he ever did, he'd die a happy man indeed.

“Santana, we have breakfast and spa reservations at Le Parker Meridien and if you try to come between me and my egg-white frittata today of all days, I will—“ Kurt stopped abruptly as he reached the living room and took in the sight of Santana sitting on the couch, fully dressed and leafing through a magazine with her pillow and blankets from the night before neatly folded over the arm.

“I'd be more worried about your so-called maid of honor, if I were you,” she said with one eyebrow raised, and for what he was sure wouldn't be the first time that day, Kurt's fists clenched at his sides and he unfurled them, one finger at a time, to a count of ten.

*

10:27am

Clearing his throat, Wes got to his feet and raised his glass. “I'd just like to say a few words before Coop steals the show later,” he began. Along with Toby and Andrew, the reassembled Warbler collective turned their attention toward him, as they had done so many years earlier within the confines of mahogany surroundings and navy and red polyester blazers. Wes no longer wielded a gavel, yet still he commanded their attention with the ease of a natural born leader. Turning to Mrs. Anderson, who was seated between her sons and looking about to burst with pride, he continued, “Mrs. Anderson, you've clearly raised two fine young men and I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you. Blaine is still one of my best friends, and as much as I would have liked to be the one setting examples, he was often the one giving me advice.

“Blaine, you're the first of us to get married. I know I speak for all of us when I say that we are so proud of how far you've come and everything you've achieved. The relationship and the love that you share with Kurt is something that I know we all aspire to. We are all so happy for you. We all knew this is where you'd be one day.”

Wes raised his glass high over the center of the table. “A toast to Mrs. Anderson, and to Kurt and Blaine. Long may you all live happy and fulfilling lives. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” repeated everyone seated around the table, and Blaine smiled at his mother, squeezing her hand affectionately.

“Your father would be so proud of you today, Blaine,” she said, reaching up to straighten his tie.

“I wish he was here,” Blaine replied, his throat suddenly feeling tight. “He... How did he feel about us? About Kurt?”

Fiona laughed and shook her head. “Oh sweetheart, he loved that boy. Lord knows he had trouble accepting your orientation, but he always liked Kurt. I remember...”

“Remember what?” Blaine prompted.

“That night after Kurt's graduation, when he came to dinner, and he was talking about going to NYU. His grand plan,” Fiona said, and Blaine bit back a laugh as he recalled the various incarnations of Kurt's Fabulous Five-Year Plan, all painstakingly laid out in a bright red, sequinned journal. “I think William was impressed that he was always thinking so far ahead, and that he always included you. He could see that you were never an after-thought, never taken for granted. He knew how much you love one another, and how much happier you are with Kurt. Did I ever tell you that we made a bet?”

“What bet?”

“We made a bet as to when you were going to propose,” she said, smiling at the memory.

“And?” Blaine managed, hooking a finger behind his tie and tugging until the pressure eased a little. At Toby's concerned glance from across the table, he shook his head, smiling tightly.

“I owe him ten dollars when I catch up with him,” Fiona answered, a far-away look in her eyes. “He was no saint, your father. But he loves you, and he respected you. He knew you'd never make this decision rashly, or for the wrong reasons.”

“I really wish he was here,” Blaine repeated. Fiona simply nodded, and patted his chest just above his heart.

*

12:49pm

“But what if—“

“Rachel.”

“I'm just—“

”Rachel.”

“Okay, but—“

“Rachel, shut up!” Kurt ground out through his teeth, somehow managing not to crack his face mask.

“If you keep on, I will take you to the carpet,” Mercedes called over from the manicure station, and Rachel sank back into her seat with a put-upon expression, glancing down every few seconds to check the pedicurist's work. “Kurt, everything is gonna be perfect. It's Blaine. Don't let mini-Streisand over there worry you.”

“I just thought it might be a good idea for Kurt to prepare himself in case it's not everything he's been hoping for,” Rachel said quickly. “After all, he and Blaine have very different tastes. I think we all learned that during Kitchengate last year.”

Kurt's jaw clenched beneath the mask, and he tightened his grip on the armrests. Thankfully, Kristy seemed to notice, finally stepping up to the plate and proving why he'd chosen her as maid of honor.

“That's enough, Tiny Dancer,” she drawled, waving a hand in Rachel's direction. “Blaine's done amazing work, and Kurt is going to love it.”

Rachel seemed to consider Kristy's words for a moment, before shooting Kurt a smile that was almost beatific in its radiance. “I'm sorry, Kurt. You know what I'm like.”

“And any other day I would appreciate the reality check, but today I'm getting married,” Kurt replied after his beautician had begun sloughing off the face mask.

“Do you remember that sleepover? The one where I asked you what you would have said if Blaine had asked you to marry him, right then and there?” Rachel asked. “What would you have said?”

“I don't know,” Kurt said honestly, and all four of the girls shot him disbelieving looks. “I don't! Maybe I would have said yes. He has this way of looking at me, even if he's asking me something so simple. Like if he wants me to pass the salt at dinner. There's something so... He always looks so hopeful, even when he's not trying to. It makes it impossible to say no. And if any of you ever tell him that, I will throw all of your wardrobes into the Hudson, not just Kristy's, and I will feel amazing about it. Especially yours, Rachel.”

“I think you would have said yes,” Mercedes intoned. “I mean, you guys had your ups and downs, but even back then everyone could see you were perfect for each other. You're really lucky, Kurt.”

At that moment, Kurt's phone beeped in his pocket. “It's from Blaine!” he exclaimed giddily, and Santana and Kristy crowded in behind him to glance over his shoulder. He read aloud, “my bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Rachel gasped softly, her palm to her chest. “He's perfect, Kurt. You're so lucky to have found him.”

“I know,” he whispered, bringing the phone to his lips. “I know.”

*

2:33pm

As Blaine stood in front of the full-length mirror in The Lighthouse's Hudson Suite, he paused to consider the fact that it was the last time he would do so and see Blaine Anderson staring back. In an hour's time, he would catch his reflection in a darkened window or polished champagne flute and Blaine Hummel-Anderson would be looking back. Instead, a married man—a husband—would be looking back.

All around him was a flurry of activity: Cooper was ensuring the groomsmen knew their cues; Wes was liaising with Rachel over the phone; Zara was fussing with his hair and his mother was handing out the boutonnieres, all of it seemingly in double-time. He knotted his tie, every movement practiced and easy, and vaguely wondered if Cooper had slipped a Xanax into his coffee along with the shot of Irish creme. Blaine had managed to hold on to their peaceful start to the day, and as he observed the insanity surrounding him with a sense of calm detachment, he had the sensation of being some halcyon island in the middle of a roiling sea.

Unfastening his watch, he set it down on the small end table beside him and watched the seconds count down.

*

2:52pm

Kurt held his untouched glass of champagne to his chest as he paced the length of the room. He had been dressed in his beautiful charcoal Westwood ensemble for well over thirty minutes, and all that was left for him to do was have a little patience. Carole was running between rooms to make sure everyone was presentable (and, in Finn's case, staying that way); Rachel was talking on the phone in a hushed voice with Santana listening in, and Burt was being lectured on the important differences between satin and silk by Kristy and Mercedes. He cast Kurt a helpless look, which Kurt returned with a quirked eyebrow and a half-shrug as if to say, “you asked”.

Every so often, he pulled his phone from his bag and slid the screen across until it was devoid of apps, and the picture of Blaine asleep in their bed was all he could see. Each time, he found himself letting out a contented sigh, feeling the weight of truth behind the knowledge that despite the vows he was about to make, nothing except his name was going to change. He would still spend mornings waking up to Blaine's soft rumble of breath in his ear; he would still spend his lunch hours exchanging text messages about the morning's events; he would still spend those evenings in the apartment when Blaine was away working comforted with the knowledge that wherever he was in the world, be it California, Melbourne or Tokyo, their love still paid no attention to such boundaries.

Once more, he locked his phone and set it back in his bag. For the first time since Kristy thrust it into his hand, he took a small sip of champagne.

*

3:00pm

Ready? Cooper's look from the end of the aisle asked, and Blaine didn't need to pause to consider the question. He thought that maybe he'd been ready, had loved Kurt, before ever meeting him.

Ready, his nod replied, and he stepped behind the piano that had been set up behind the archway and seated himself, flexing his fingers and testing the pedals. A hush fell over the mass of guests in attendance as he flicked the microphone's switch to ON, and after taking a moment to center himself, he struck the first chord. His version of the song was adapted from a beautiful, stripped-down cover of the original, and he'd needed only a verse's worth of listening to settle upon it. How could he have ever chosen anything else?

”I think you're pretty without any make-up on,
I think you're funny when you tell the punchline wrong,
I knew you got me when you let your walls come down, down,
Before you met me, I was alright but things were kinda heavy,
You brought me to life, now every February
You'll be my Valentine, Valentine.”

*

3:02pm

”When you're around me, life's like a movie scene,
I wasn't happy until you became my king,
I've finally found you: my missing puzzle piece,
I'm complete.”

The song was almost at the halfway point and Kurt was dangerously close to tears. Rachel and Wes, Mercedes and Jeff, Santana and Cooper, and Kristy and Finn had all disappeared inside the hall and Kurt could hear them providing a soft and lilting harmony layered beneath Blaine's heartfelt vocals. He gripped Burt's arm tightly with the fingers of his other hand pressed firmly against his mouth.

“It's time, kiddo,” Burt said gruffly, and pulled Kurt into a careful yet crushing hug. “You make sure you never let him go, okay? With him, I don't have to lose a son.”

“Oh god, Dad, I get to marry him,” Kurt whispered, and Burt held him tighter for a moment before stepping back and wiping at his eyes, sniffing hard.

“He's what your forever looks like, Kurt. So go get him.”

*

3:03pm

Blaine's eyes were fixed upon the entry, beyond which he knew Kurt had his fingers gripping the inside of Burt's elbow, waiting to make his appearance. With his fingers he played the chords and with his voice he sang of a love that was the reason there was light in his world and laughter in his heart. Beyond that entry was the man of his dreams, dreams that he got to hold onto even after he opened his eyes.

”You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream
The way you turn me on, I can't sleep
Let's run away and don't ever look back
Don't ever look back.”

And there he was. There was only a half-beat between lyrics, yet time seemed to stop as Kurt rounded the corner on Burt's arm and paused mid-step to take everything in. His eyes roamed over the high ceilings, the ornate chairs, the aisle scattered with petals, before finally finding Blaine at the piano through the archway draped in white silk, cherry blossom and lilacs. Just like that, Blaine's every nerve was alight and he was flying. His voice was stronger, his heart was racing (like the song) and Kurt was walking towards him with the most affirming smile Blaine had ever seen.

”And my heart stops when you look at me,
Just one touch, now baby I believe this is real,
So take a chance and don't ever look back,
Don't ever...”

*

3:04pm

Even as Burt hugged him once more, Kurt couldn't take his eyes away from Blaine, seated behind the piano and singing like it was the last song he would ever perform. In his periphery, he could see Rachel and Mercedes wiping their eyes as they harmonized, and everywhere there were smiles. They were surrounded by boundless love and it wouldn't have ever mattered where or when they did this because he was Blaine's, and Blaine was his, and it might already have been forever before Kurt woke up that morning but now it was forever.

”I will get your heart racing if that's what you need,
In this teenage dream tonight,
Let you rest your head on me if that's what you need,
In this teenage dream tonight.”

There was a brief silence where they simply looked at one another, drank each other in, and then the entire congregation burst into cheers and applause. Blaine stood, stepped around the piano and walked purposefully straight towards Kurt. As the officiant took her place beneath the archway, Kurt took Blaine's left hand in his right and cupped the back of Blaine's neck with the other, smiling as he brought their foreheads together and not even daring to blink in case he missed something.

“Bye, fiance,” Blaine whispered.

Kurt chuckled, because as always, he knew exactly what Blaine meant. “Bye, fiance.”

*

3:24pm

This is what forever feels like, Kurt thought. He glanced down at their joined hands and then back up into Blaine's eyes; still nothing had changed, and it had all begun with fingertips brushing a shoulder and a glance on a staircase. At Abigail's instruction, he turned to Finn and took Blaine's wedding ring, Blaine mirroring the motion with Cooper. Facing each other once more, they held their rings between pressed palms, unable to keep from smiling.

“Now, in addition to traditional vows, Kurt and Blaine have written their own,” Abigail said. “Kurt, would you like to go first?”

Nodding, Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand a little tighter. “Luck is a funny thing,” he began, having rehearsed his personal vows so many times at that point that he could have married Blaine in his sleep. “You and I have had a lot of luck in our lives, but I count myself the luckiest to have found you. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe we were fated, but every day that I wake up in your arms I remind myself how lucky I am. Some people spend their entire lives searching for the love of their life, and I thought I'd be one of them. But then, one not so extraordinary high school day, there you were. And here you still are.

“You support me without question, you push me to try when I'm scared that I'll fail, you love me without rules or boundaries or expectations. You're the best man I've ever known. I'm so lucky to be here today, with our life ahead of us, and I can't wait for it to start. I love you, Blaine, and I'm proud to become your husband.”

The happiness and warmth in Blaine's eyes was so concentrated, so potent that it was all Kurt could do not to lean forward, rest of the ceremony be damned.

*

3:27pm

Blaine's senses were on overload. The comforting, joyously intermingling scents of sakura and lilac petals scattered around them; Kurt's soft hands holding onto his own tightly enough for the rings contained between them to leave two perfectly circular indentations on his palm; Kurt's eyes unwavering from his own, streams of sunlight picking out flecks of cerulean and olive and ocher; the words of Kurt's vows weaving a golden trellis of love and protection around his very heart; the taste upon his tongue flavored with Sunday mornings and hyphenated surnames and housewarming parties and a lifetime with—Kurt had put it perfectly—the best man he had ever known. It was completely overwhelming, and in the best possible way.

He shifted from one foot to the other, re-centering his gravity, and cleared his throat.

“Kurt, you're the love of my life. I said those words for the first time to you when we were just kids, when deep down we were still so unsure of so many things. But standing here in front of you today, I realize that even then, I knew. I knew that someday we would be doing exactly this,” Blaine said, looking deep into Kurt's eyes and holding his hands just a little tighter. “You're the love of my life, and so much more. You're my best friend, my confidant, my anchor. You're the reason I wake up warm, and the reason I fall asleep smiling.

“Everyone's been asking me lately if I'm nervous, and I thought I was going to be, but I'm not. I woke up this morning feeling so at peace, so ready for this. This is where we were always meant to be. You're my soulmate, Kurt. My everything. You were my first love, and it makes me so much happier than I could possibly articulate that you'll be my last. I love you so much, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Unable to resist a moment longer, Blaine stepped closer and cupped Kurt's cheek, thumbing away the single tear that had slipped out. They both smiled, and Penny's camera flashed, capturing the moment.

“Now Kurt, if you'll place the ring upon Blaine's finger. Blaine, if you'll do the same, and both repeat after me,” Abigail intoned.

“I take you to be my husband,” they repeated in unison, voices breathless but equally as strong, “my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live.”

“By the power vested in me by the state of New York, it is with great pleasure that I declare you legally married,” Abigail announced, her smile wide and proud for them both. “You may now kiss.”

Kurt's mouth had already met Blaine's by the time Abigail had finished speaking, and Blaine felt it all the way down to his toes. His wedding band was warm and perfect against his skin, and he couldn't help but sigh into the kiss he'd been waiting so long to give and receive.

“Hello, Kurt Hummel-Anderson,” he murmured against Kurt's lips when they broke apart, their friends and family applauding them. “I love you.”

Kurt stepped forward and wrapped himself around Blaine, holding on so tightly that Blaine could no longer tell where he ended and Kurt began. “Hello, husband,” Kurt whispered into his ear. “I love you, too.”

*

6:19pm

When the last plate had been cleared from the last table, one of the wait staff approached the top table carrying a microphone, and handed it to Burt with a smile. As Burt cleared his throat and stood, Kurt refilled his and Blaine's glasses before settling back into the arm around his shoulders, relaxed and sated and completely happy.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my name's Burt Hummel, and I'm Kurt's dad,” Burt began, standing slightly behind Kurt and squeezing his shoulder. “Those of you who know me know that I'm a man of few words, which I guess is a good thing when you're just the warm-up act. I'll make this short, but Blaine, Cooper, if I bore 'em to sleep, that's your problem.”

There was a smattering of laughter at that, and Kurt smiled at his father encouragingly—he was nervous, despite the years he spent giving speeches as a Congressman.

“First of all, I just wanna thank my son-in-law, Blaine, for all of his hard work,” Burt continued, and Blaine couldn't keep the grin away at the new affectation. “If you'd asked me a month ago if I knew someone who could pull off a perfect wedding in three weeks, I'd only ever have thought of Kurt, because he has done it. But Blaine's proved me wrong, so here's to him.”

Kurt turned and pressed a kiss just beneath Blaine's jaw, fingertips curled back against the front of his shirt, and mouthed 'thank you' against his skin.

“Every dad raises their kid knowing that one day, they're gonna outgrow you. They'll move out, find someone, maybe get married, and end up with this whole life that's separate from yours. And that's okay, you know, that's the way it's supposed to happen. The best any dad can hope for is that their kid finds The One; that person who makes them happier than they ever thought they could be. Not every dad expects it to be their kid's best friend who, two weeks before they start dating, comes around encouraging a father-son “birds and the bees” talk...” Burt trailed off with a sidelong glance at Blaine, though there was only fond amusement in his eyes, “but honestly, these two are a perfect fit. They challenge each other, they support each other, and they complete each other. These two? Take a long look, because they're what forever looks like.

“Now traditionally, I'm supposed to give you advice on marriage, but you kids have been together for eight years already. Hell, you were practically married after just one,” he joked, turning to face them fully. “You two have served your apprenticeship and paid your dues, so what I'll say is this: marriage is a partnership. Always remember to put each other first. Fall in love over and over again with each other. And never, ever, go to bed in the middle of an argument. Be a man, stay up and fight. One of you has to lose anyway so you might as well get it over with. Love each other with acceptance and forgiveness, like you always have.

“Here's to your past, for all that you've learned,” Burt said, and all of the guests followed his motion and raised their glasses. “Here's to your present and everything you have, here's to your future, and everything you've got to look forward to. Here's to Kurt and Blaine.”

“To Kurt and Blaine!” the guests chorused, followed by a soft harmony of clinking glasses. As he had been doing all throughout dinner, Kurt raised his own glass to Blaine's lips, and smiled when Blaine responded by mirroring his actions. They shared another brief kiss, and Kurt could taste the dry, sweet champagne undercutting the bitter decadence of the dark chocolate and raspberry gelato they'd had for dessert. Squeezing Blaine's shoulder reassuringly at the nervous huff of breath he let out, Kurt handed his husband the microphone.

“Ladies, gentlemen and gatecrashers,” Blaine began, his leading man stage persona coming to the fore, “thank you all for being here today. Kurt and I appreciate and love you all more than we can say, and just to let you know, you can now call off those nice men in the white jackets I saw hanging around the pier earlier.”

“I'm on it!” Kristy called, making a show of speaking into her wrist, and Blaine gave her the thumbs-up with a wink.

“I won't bore you with a bunch of old, stale jokes, because that's Cooper's job,” Blaine continued, grinning as he paused for the quiet laughter to subside. “I do need to make you all aware, though, that Coop suffers from a very rare condition that causes him to live half his life in a fantasy world. Sometimes he even makes up stories, and absolutely believes them to be true. It's only right that I advise you of this ahead of his speech. I wouldn't want him to get upset, so if you could humor him, I'd appreciate it.”

Kurt batted at Blaine's hand half-heartedly and shared a despairing look with his mother-in-law, before catching himself and thinking, I'd feel so old right now if I wasn't so happy.

“But seriously, I do have an awful lot of you to thank for all your help, so I'll try and keep it brief. Firstly, to those of you who dropped everything to be here today, I realize it was all very last-minute, so thank you. Second to Kristy, Toby and Andrew—you three kept me from going completely insane throughout this entire process, and I owe you a huge debt of gratitude. Third, to the bridesmaids and groomsmen, you all look fantastic and thank you so much for all of your help.

“Last but never, ever least,” Blaine said a little more quietly, turning to Kurt and joining their left hands, “thank you to my incredible husband. Kurt, you're my best friend, my soulmate, and everything in between. You showed up today even though you had no idea what to expect, and you show that same faith in me every single day. The best piece of advice I ever received was from my grandmother, Lily. She told me, 'don't marry the one you can live with, marry the one you can't live without'. And that's you, Kurt. You're it for me, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Kurt wasn't aware of his own tears until Blaine was kissing them away, and he took hold of his lapels to pull him in for a crushing kiss. “I love you so much,” he whispered, moving his hands up to frame Blaine's face. “I can't wait either.”

Silently, Blaine sat back down and passed the microphone on to Cooper before pulling Kurt into his arms and sighing into the warmth of his neck.

“Well, Blaine told me his speech would be a hard one to follow,” Cooper said, getting to his feet and pulling a thick sheaf of cards from his jacket pocket. “You were right, B, it was hard to follow.”

Instantly, the mood in the room shifted and a lighthearted tone was set for the rest of the evening. Cooper knew how to work a crowd, and since his return to practicing law, he had only improved.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to thank all of you for being here today—especially those of you who knew I'd be giving a speech. It's really very touching that you still decided to come. Now, I read somewhere that a best man's speech shouldn't take any longer than the time it takes the groom to make love.” Cooper checked his watch, exhaled deeply, and continued, “so ladies and gentlemen, I give you Kurt and Blaine Hummel-Anderson!”

With that, Cooper took a sip from his glass and sat down, and laughter erupted around the room. Blaine was about to reach over and punch him on the shoulder, but Cooper was already standing up again. “For those of you who don't know me, I'm Blaine's big brother, Cooper. It's both a great and dubious privilege to be asked to be the best man at a wedding. I say dubious because it's like being asked to make love to the Queen—even though it would be a real honor, you're really not sure you want to do it. But there's nothing I wouldn't do for Blaine, and likewise there's nothing Blaine wouldn't do for me. In fact, we spent most of our lives doing nothing for each other.”

“It's true!” Blaine called out, and Kurt couldn't contain his laughter at the double act that was the Anderson brothers.

“I'd like to thank all of you again for being here today. Groomsmen, thank you for arriving sober. Bridesmaids, thank you for getting Kurt here in one piece—I understand he put up a struggle. You all look stunning by the way, and for the record, I am very much single and in room 529,” he joked, and Blaine could have sworn he saw him wink at Kristy. “I'll voice what we're all thinking by congratulating the happy couple. Some people are just made for one another, which is certainly true of these two, and I couldn't be happier that Kurt found Blaine. I say Kurt found Blaine because of my brother's abject cluelessness when it came to his own feelings. I'm assured that everyone here knows that story, so I won't bore you with tales of my brother serenading other guys in clothing stores.”

Kurt bit his lip and glanced around at Blaine, whose ears were flushed a deep pink at the tips.

“When I told him that I was having some trouble with this speech, Kurt was kind enough to give me some do's and don'ts. The list included: don't swear,” Cooper continued, and threw one of the cards down onto the table to uproarious laughter, “don't tell inappropriate jokes.” Two more cards were thrown away. “Don't tell lies.” Another card was discarded. “Do tell mostly positive stories about Blaine,” Cooper finished, and tossed away the rest of the cards, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking, for a moment, like he had nothing further at his disposal.

After a brief pause, he reached into the other jacket pocket and pulled out a single card, studying it intently. “Blaine is... witty, intelligent, ch—I'm sorry, B, what does that say?” he asked innocently, holding the blank card under Blaine's nose. “Kid's always had terrible penmanship, so I guess he can just tell me later.

“One piece of advice I'd like to give to my brother is to first set the ground rules. Establish who's boss,” Cooper said seriously, clearly pausing for dramatic effect. “And then do everything Kurt says.”

Fresh laughter erupted around the room, and Kurt gave Blaine a brief look as if to say, “don't even think about disagreeing with him” before laughing along with the rest of the guests.

“In all seriousness, though, I spent the better part of the past three weeks worrying about this speech. But what it really all comes down to is that nobody else could be standing here right now and feel more proud, more honored to be able to represent Blaine on this, the most important day of his life. Once again, thank you all for being here, and one last time I'd like to ask you to raise your glasses. Kurt, Blaine, may your love be modern enough to survive the times, but old-fashioned enough to last forever. Cheers,” Cooper toasted.

The guests' glasses clinked in symphony once more before applause broke out around the room as the former Warblers stood and made their way to one end of the dancefloor.

“And now, for the first time, I give you Kurt and Blaine Hummel-Anderson!”

Smiling, Kurt and Blaine walked hand in hand into the middle of the dancefloor and began swaying in time to the quiet harmony provided by the collected Dalton alumni.

“My love must be a kind of blind love,” Nick sang as he stepped forward, and Blaine rested his head on Kurt's shoulder as they turned in place. “I can't see anyone but you. Are the stars out tonight? I don't know if it's cloudy or bright. I only have eyes for you, dear.”

Blaine's hand was warm and heavy at the nape of his neck, and so Kurt disregarded their rehearsed dance in favor of a tight embrace, wanting instead to feel Blaine's heart beating at the pulse point in his jaw, the way the muscles of his back flexed and shifted with each movement, and he closed his eyes to take it in and wish briefly that life had a pause button. He couldn't recall ever feeling so much in love that he could disappear into it, that his every cell could dissolve into a rush of tawny hazel and become part of the very air he breathed.

“You are here and so am I, maybe millions of people go by,” the Warblers were singing, and Blaine hummed along quietly before pulling back an infinitesimal amount to take him in, his eyes deep and so intensely searching that Kurt's breath stilled in his chest the second before Blaine swept away the space between them and leaned up to gently lay claim to his lips. “But they all disappear from view, and I only have eyes for you.”

*

9:01pm

Brushing away a tear, Kurt let out a pealing whistle as Mercedes took a brief bow and beamed at him from the stage. He had never been prouder of her than in that moment, even when he and Blaine had been sitting at home months earlier and finally received the call from Mercedes, telling them that her third single—a soaring, orchestra-driven cover of Tuck and Patti's Take My Breath Away—had entered the Top 40 at number one. She had dropped everything to be at the wedding and perform it in their honor, proving beyond all doubt that theirs was a friendship built to last.

“Thank you so much, everybody,” she said into the microphone.

“We love you, Mercedes!” Andrew shouted out from the back of the room, words slurring a little, and Kurt turned back in time to see Toby wrestling him down into his seat and moving the large wine glass out of his reach before smiling apologetically at the people nearest.

“I love you, too!” Mercedes called back with a giggle, before focusing on the crowd. “I wanted to be here today to sing that song for Kurt and Blaine, because they've always been such an inspiration to me, as a person and as an artist. Their love is something that I believe in with my whole heart, and they've always been so strong, right from the beginning.”

Palm to his heart, Kurt caught Mercedes' eye from where he sat alone at his table and blew her a kiss. After catching and returning it, she turned her head to the side and nodded with an excited smile, and Kurt grinned as the Warblers began filing onto the stage.

“And speaking of the beginning, there's a lot of us here today that were there for it,” Mercedes said, gesturing as the Warblers arranged themselves in formation behind her. The hall grew quiet and Blaine finally climbed onto the stage, slipping back into the ranks with the same ease as pulling on an old, well-worn pair of faded jeans. “For one night only—until the next reunion, that is—please welcome the Dalton Academy Warblers!”

Kurt let out another whistle, Quinn and Santana pulling him onto the dancefloor as the hall filled with the soft opening bars of Hey, Soul Sister and the Warblers owned the stage with their reclaimed doo-wopping glory. The performance became an energetic mash-up that had Kurt bouncing on the balls of his feet with the rest of the guests on the packed dancefloor, breaking out his shimmy, sashaying around Rachel and side-stepping with Sugar and Tina. Brittany and Mike were doing the mambo in front of the stage, effortlessly finding their feet together even after so many years spent with other dance partners. Beneath the bright lights, the Warblers spun on their heels and segued into Silly Love Songs, and Kurt blushed hotly as Mercedes pushed him forward and everyone pointed at him, singing the words “I love you”. Blaine leapt from the stage like he was Johnny Castle, and Kurt recognized the familiar beat-boxed bassline as the song transitioned into Animal.

Blaine danced through the crowd toward him, singing, “here we are again, I feel the chemicals kicking in, it's gettin' heavy and I wanna run and hide, I wanna run and hide.” He swept Kurt into a stiff tango stance, nodding for him to pick up his old cue.

“I do it every time, you're killing me now,” he sang, pleased that he could still pull off the growling roughness, and Blaine linked both of their hands and spun them around like they were back on a lit-up floor as they sang the refrain together. “And I won't be denied by you, the animal inside of you.”

With one pull they were toe to toe, and Blaine took a deep breath before letting his voice soar again. “And if you have a minute why don't we go, talk about it somewhere only we know, this could be the end of everything, so why don't we go somewhere only we know.”

Kurt closed his eyes, felt Blaine take his hand and fleetingly brush his lips across his wedding ring, and then he was bopping his way back to the stage in time to end the song with his arms raised, belting out a repetition of “raise your glass!” The girls converged on him, whooping and cheering their applause as the Warblers bowed.

“Encore!” Rachel shouted, and Blaine waggled his eyebrows. Cooper strode onto the stage and gathered everyone at the back, turned away from the guests.

“What's going on?” Mercedes asked to his right, and Kurt shrugged one shoulder, craning his neck to try and get a better look.

“I don't know,” he said, eyes trained on Blaine's back. “Apart from the last dance tonight, I... Oh, sweet mother of—“

The Warblers were still in their huddle, but began tapping out a rhythm with their feet as Blaine and Cooper spun around, sporting Freddie Mercury mustaches and singing, “tonight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time, I feel alive, and the world is turning inside out, yeah, I'm floating around in ecstasy, so...”

“Don't stop me now,” joined in the rest of the chorus, five or six turning on each word until all of them were facing the guests, most of whom were doubled over with laughter at the sight of the straight-laced prep school boys all wearing matching mustaches and looking entirely ridiculous.

“What is it with those guys and fake facial hair?” Kurt asked Mercedes as she wiped away a tear. She tried to be serious for a moment but it was a lost cause and Kurt waved her off, giving in and grabbing Santana to dance.

He caught Blaine's eye on the line, “I'm a sex machine ready to reload”, he and Cooper thrusting their hips forward in time to the beat, and Kurt's jaw went slack as they all feigned the shakes and threw their arms to the side, exclaiming, “about to whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa explode!”

“Oh my god,” Santana sniggered. “You realize what you've just married into, right?”

“Yes.” Kurt nodded, his expression mock grave even as he returned Blaine's ridiculous wink. “Yes, I do.”

*

10:53pm

It was fast approaching 11p.m. and Wes had long since assumed command of the laptop connected to the sound system, taking the opportunity to blast classic Top 40 along with some guest requests—Blaine's personal favorite moments had been when Wes managed to get everybody up on their feet and dancing the timeless, genius moves of the Macarena and the Cha Cha Slide.

“What is that, the fifth time now?” he asked Kurt, loosely holding his hand where it rested over his shoulder. Mercedes had just approached Wes again, and he'd pulled her behind the speakers in front of his booth to point out something on the screen to her. Blaine watched as his old mentor, ever the gentleman, placed his hand at the small of her back and leaned in to say something close to her. Mercedes laughed and averted her eyes shyly, and Wes looked completely taken with her.

“Must be the seventh,” Kurt replied with a barely-contained snort.

“Nothing like a wedding to bring people together,” Blaine mused, thinking of how he'd seen Kristy and Cooper sneaking off ten minutes earlier. Looking around, he took in the sight of their friends; friends that had scattered across the four corners of the country and beyond, all reuniting to celebrate him and his husband. Tina and Mike, Burt and Carole, and Toby and Andrew were slow dancing below the undulating lights. Sam, Puck and Finn were chatting and laughing with Flint, Thad and David by the mostly empty buffet tables. His mom was at one of the tables further back, talking with Jason, Stuart and Jeff. Rachel, Santana and Brittany were whispering and pointing over to where Quinn sat deep in conversation with Artie, who was looking just as quietly, secretly smitten as he always had back at McKinley.

He sighed contentedly as the song came to an end and everyone seemed to vacate the dancefloor at once, leaving only Tina and Brittany. Blaine saw Mercedes striding away from Wes and shooting back a thumbs-up. The next thing he knew, Kurt was on his feet and tilting Blaine's face upward.

“Surprise, husband,” he said cryptically with a fast kiss, and then he was stalking across the floor to take his place between the girls and strike a pose.

Blaine's bewilderment vanished when a beat kicked in and they all began stepping from side to side, knees bent, one hand up and the other planted firmly on the hip. Kurt mouthed the words “all the single ladies” with Tina and Brittany as his echo, and when everyone's attention was captured, Rachel and Mercedes joined them, followed by Quinn, Sugar and Santana. They danced and rolled their hips seductively all the way through the first verse, and then Blaine's dopey grin turned to a jaw-drop as not only the male ex-New Directions members joined in, but so did most of the Warblers.

Kurt's mouth curved up into a wicked and sly grin as they all turned to the side and patted their asses. Toby, Andrew, Stuart, Jeff and Lori soon slotted themselves in amongst the group, and Wes nodded when Blaine gestured to ask, “did you know about this?”

Kurt led the group over to him as the song got closer to the end, and pulled him up to settle his hands on Blaine's hips, swaying him in time with the old choreography and brand new meaning.

“Pull me into your arms, say I'm the one you want,” Kurt sang, eyes dark and fixed.

“Put a ring on it, didn't I?” he replied wryly. Kurt laughed and kissed him, and they turned to watch their friends finish the dance. “I can't believe you organized a flash mob for me.”

“You go crazy over them every time a new one shows up on YouTube,” Kurt said, and Blaine couldn't help but kiss him again, because forever with this man was never going to be enough time.

*

11:46pm

Forever. It was the word that Kurt couldn't get out of his mind, nor did he want to.

The majority of the guests had begun taking their leave at around 11:00, needing to be at work the next day, and those visiting New York and staying in hotels had booked cabs for 11:30 to avoid past-midnight fares. Burt had left with Carole and Finn a few minutes earlier after pulling them both in for another of his bone-crushing hugs and telling them how proud of them he was.

Kurt shivered pleasantly as Blaine's breath ghosted warmly across his neck, and he dropped his head to rest on Blaine's shoulder, fingers creeping beneath the loosened collar of his crisp white shirt. They were the only two left, swaying mostly silently in the middle of the dancefloor, Blaine occasionally whisper-singing lines from Teenage Dream, kissing and touching and just being with one another as they wound down from the emotion of the day.

“Today was so perfect,” he whispered.

“It's not over yet,” Blaine replied, and Kurt could hear the smile in his voice. He hummed and pressed his lips to Blaine's neck, letting his eyes drift closed as he simply rested there for a moment.

“Take me home, please,” he sighed contentedly.

*

Thursday 29 August, 2019
12:17am

As they half-walked, half-jogged through the lobby, ties loose and faces flushed from the limo ride, the night guard grinned at them knowingly and Blaine felt like a teenager all over again. Kurt crowded him into the back corner of the elevator as they ascended, latching onto his earlobe and sucking softly in between a litany of whispered affirmations. Blaine's hands roamed across the smooth linen of Kurt's shirt, palming his shoulder blades and interlinking his fingers.

When they got inside the apartment, they found a trail of white and red rose petals leading away from the door and into the bedroom. Propped up on the coffee table was a bottle of champagne with a card reading, 'Enjoy. Love, Kristy & Cooper'.

“Do you think they—“

“Oh, I definitely think they,” Kurt said, flipping the card over and smiling. Blaine read over his shoulder that Kristy had picked up McQueen to stay with her while they were away, and to have a great time. He let out a sigh, dipping his head to the back of Kurt's neck. “Shower, husband?”

Blaine grinned and worked his fingers into the back of Kurt's hair. “Yes, husband. You know, I don't think I'll ever get sick of saying that.”

“Hmm, me either.”

They made quick work of showering; a practiced dance-and-shift they'd had perfected since back in the college days, when fifteen extra minutes in bed curled around one another had taken precedence over mostly everything else. Blaine climbed out first, taking with him a couple of extra towels, a new bottle of lube and a handful of condoms—they had mostly stopped using them a few years earlier, and despite the all-clear from the tests they'd paid through the nose to have fast-tracked after the lingering unsolved mysteries from their bachelor party, it was already late and they had an early start. Blaine wanted this to be slow, lasting, and not have to worry about cleaning up when instead he could make use of that extra time.

While he waited for Kurt, Blaine toweled himself dry and set everything in easy reach on the bedside before slipping beneath the covers in an attempt to stave off his shivering. It wasn't until Kurt finally appeared around the doorway, leaning against it and smiling at him for a moment, that Blaine realized he wasn't shivering because of the cold.

Kurt crossed the room, pulling off the towel wrapped around his hips, and slid in next to Blaine until they were flush against one another, pressed together from chest to hip with legs tangled at the knee.

“You're shaking, husband,” Kurt murmured, rubbing up and down Blaine's arm. “Are you cold? I could—“

Blaine shook his head, traced the backs of his trembling fingers along Kurt's collarbone and nuzzled against his jaw. “I'm just—I'm so happy right now that it's kind of terrifying.”

Kurt's kiss was light, fleeting. “It's just us. You and me.”

“Come here,” Blaine whispered, and pulled Kurt into a soul-searing kiss, one that he tried to pour every last ounce of his love and affection into. He kissed Kurt exactly like he had the very first time; gently, slowly, tentatively. Kurt cupped his cheek—exactly like he had the very first time—and finally Blaine believed it, trusted it, and gave into it. He let himself fall into the kiss headfirst, climbing on top of Kurt and slotting his knees either side of Kurt's hips as he settled his weight onto the arm that rested on the pillow over Kurt's head. Kurt's hands gripped at his shoulders and upper arms before traveling over the planes of his back, fingers kneading into the muscles and holding on like he never wanted to let go.

“I love you,” Blaine whispered, trailing his mouth down the column of Kurt's neck and along his collarbones, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake. “You're mine, and I love you so much.”

“Hmm. Yours,” Kurt repeated, tracing circles into his scalp and flexing his fingers through Blaine's hair just how he liked it. Lightly, Blaine moaned into the touch and shifted himself further down Kurt's body, flicking his tongue over the tightened nub of his nipple. Kurt gasped quietly, and his grip on Blaine's hair tightened and body leaning into the contact as Blaine slowly began moving against him, controlled circles of his hips down onto Kurt's, barely any real movement at all but enough to make them both hold on just a little tighter.

“Will you—“

“Yes,” Blaine breathed, before claiming his mouth fast and hard, the atmosphere between them shifting—imperceptibly, but just the right amount. It was all that Blaine needed for the trembling to finally subside, and he surrendered himself to the bright, crackling burn of want sweeping through him.

Sliding down between the fingertips pressed against his sides, Blaine peppered Kurt's chest and torso with nips and kisses. Kurt trailed his hands across the line of Blaine's shoulders and tightened his grip when Blaine lightly licked across the head of his cock before taking it into his mouth, moving slowly and causing Kurt to gasp as he pulled off with a feather-light rake of his teeth along the sensitive flesh.

“What do you want?” he asked quietly, thumb circling the inside of Kurt's thigh.

“All of you,” Kurt breathed.

Blaine surged forward and caught Kurt's lips in a feverish kiss, moaning a little when Kurt reached between them and gripped him tightly, his palm dry yet soft and guiding. They moved together slowly, no disturbances, nowhere they needed to be except right where they were. Languid glory, trading knowing kisses and light touches, and Blaine was soon coating his fingers and moving down the length of Kurt's body, once again taking the weight of him on his tongue and pressing a finger inside.

“Blaine,” Kurt whispered, rolling his hips upward when Blaine added a second, then a third, working him over with slick heat and strong hands. “Please... More.”

Gently, Blaine released him and sat back on his haunches, taking the condom Kurt held out and sheathing himself as Kurt loosely stroked his own cock.

“Turn over,” Blaine said, scooting up on his knees as Kurt did so. He leaned them both forward, running his hands over the cool gooseflesh of Kurt's arms and linking their left hands together. As Blaine grasped his hip and pushed inside, Kurt brought up both hands to brace himself against the headboard, groaning when Blaine rested flush against his back.

“I love you so much,” he said, the tail end sinking inside a moan as Blaine began to move—not yet pulling out, simply circling their hips together—and took hold of his other hand, leaning all of the way forward to kiss the nape of Kurt's neck and breathe.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered in reply, wrapping his left arm around Kurt's waist and holding him tightly. Blaine pulled back, and they moaned together as he buried himself again. Kurt's fingers curled tighter between his own each time, and his breathing grew ragged and close on Kurt's skin.

“Fuck,” Kurt ground out, pushing back and letting go of Blaine's hand to sit fully upright, gripping his thighs as he started to ride. Blaine groaned beneath the weight and brought his hand up to cover Kurt's heart, mouthing and licking at the meeting of his neck and shoulder and wrapping his cock in a blanket of touch and twist and up-down, up-down.

“Kiss me?” Blaine asked, his voice little more than a whisper, and Kurt shifted, still moving and gasping over hitched breaths whenever Blaine hit that sweet, sweet spot at his core. He laced his fingers through Blaine's damp hair and craned his head back to lock their lips together, sloppy and mismatched, but a kiss perfect in its imperfection.

“Baby, right—yes, there—oh, don't stop,” Kurt pleaded.

“Need to see you,” Blaine murmured, and their rhythm slowed to a stop. Kurt pulled off slowly before turning around straddling Blaine's thighs, eyes screwed shut as he sank back down with his nails dug into Blaine's shoulders. “Okay?”

“God, yes,” Kurt answered as he opened his eyes, holding Blaine's in an invisible vice grip. He started to move again slowly, gradually speeding up and pistoning his hips in figures of eight that made Blaine's own motions become jerky, his breathing erratic. The heat and pull settled in his spine was moving, twisting, roiling and expanding, spreading through him steady as a lava spill.

“Kurt, I—jesus, fuck,” Blaine moaned, his fist pumping Kurt faster and faster, eyes still locked which only made the pressure build further.

“Blaine, just—one more,” Kurt managed, and Blaine thrust up one last time and cried out as his entire consciousness reeled back from the force that hit him, dimly aware of nails on his scalp and liquid warmth hitting his skin.

He came around piece by piece, the air seeming close and thick as Kurt cradled his face and kissed his eyelids.

“That was...”

“Intense,” Blaine supplied, his breathing harsh and labored.

“I'll say. I think you might have blacked out for a few seconds,” Kurt told him with an air of satisfaction, shifting slightly uncomfortably. Scraping the bottom of his last energy reserve, Blaine supported him as Kurt lifted himself off and to the side, peeling off the condom and dropping it into the waste basket. They collapsed back against the pillows with a sigh, Blaine pressing a kiss to the top of Kurt's head where it lay on his shoulder.

“Thank you for marrying me,” he murmured, eyes closing.

“Thank you for asking,” Kurt replied through a delicate yawn.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, husband,” were the last words Blaine heard, and he took them under with him into a boneless, dreamless sleep.

*

8:47am

@WayfaringBlaine: Morning, guys. Guess who got married yesterday? ;)