Author's Notes: The train rattles as it speeds down the railway tracks. Outside, buildings, random dusty trees and utility poles slide away quickly. Blaine feels as though someone has trapped him into a tin can. His heart rolls from side to side along with the rocking of the train.

*

He was at the coffee shop when he got the text from Kurt. The last customers had left and he was wiping at the tables in silence. Wes was mopping the floor, whistling some top 40s song or other. The phone vibrated in his pocket and he hastened to fish it out. His heart jumped up in his throat as he read Kurt’s name on the screen. After Blaine read the text, he remained frozen to the spot, hands clutching his cell phone, trying desperately to crush down the hope that was threatening to take over.

“Are you alright?”

Wes’ voice came muffled to Blaine’s ears, eyes focused on Kurt’s words. He was scared, of course he was. This could mean anything, from a definite goodbye to the promise of a shared future. It was terrifying. But that didn’t change the fact that Blaine would go. He would take the train, the very same train on which he had met Kurt months before, and face it all. He had run away many times in his life, but he wouldn’t – couldn’t- this time.

“I…I am not sure.”

He heard Wes moving, but he didn’t turn around.

“What’s up?”

Blaine didn’t feel like talking at all. He simply held up his phone for Wes to read the text.

“What do you want to do?”

“I…I don’t think I’ve a choice.”

Wes squeezed his shoulder.

“You always get a choice.”

Blaine looked down at the surface of the table he had been cleaning. He thought of Kurt – of the arch of his back, of the hurt in his eyes, of the tenderness of his touch.

“I want to see him.”

“Then do it. You should…just do what you think it’s right.”

It wasn’t a question of right and wrong to Blaine. Seeing Kurt felt indispensable, like breathing after having spent too much time under water. He typed the text and sent it quickly, heart lodged in his throat.

*

Blaine remembers meeting Kurt on that train going back to New York. He remembers that cold morning and the excited flutter in his stomach when they had said goodbye to each other on a Central Station’s platform. But now he looks at the buildings sliding away past the window and feels uncertain, trembling in his own skin. At the back of his mind Blaine knows that wasn’t the first time he met Kurt. The knowledge is heavy like lead at the bottom of his veins, gluing him to the train’s floor.

When he was a kid Blaine dreamed of meeting a beautiful boy, falling in love and building a life with him. There wasn’t pain or heartbreak in those dreams; his real life was already hard enough as it was. Kurt is the man that boy of his dreams has become – Blaine is sure of it. But they are not living in a dream. They have hurt each other pretty badly. There are scars that have never faded on Blaine’s body, marring the skin over his ribs. That’s where those kids in middle school hit harder. Blaine has never looked away from those white and gaping lines. He knew with terrifying clarity that he couldn’t remove those. Yet, he has somehow managed to remove Kurt completely. He still doesn’t know how he did it.

The train slows down, the world outside does too. The sky stretches over the beach and over the sea, grey with thin clouds. Blaine pushes his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He hops off the train and the wind tugs at his hair. Somehow this place, this small train station, feels like the center of the world. The need to see Kurt, to look into his eyes, is overwhelming, building like a tide inside his chest. Turning around, though, Blaine doesn’t spot him. The platform is deserted, the wind blows around an old newspaper. Blaine imagines Kurt sitting on the train, the milky light caressing his face. He imagines him arriving at this silent station.

The sand shifts under his shoes as Blaine makes his way to the shore on wobbly legs. There’s no one around, only the seagulls riding the wind above the water. Blaine stops in his tracks, sinking slightly in the sand. He remembers drawing a small bird on the inside of Kurt’s wrist. Kurt had laughed, tickled by the tip of the pen. It was morning and they were still in bed. They had gone to karaoke the night before and Kurt had sung Blackbird. Blaine had never heard him sing and just hearing his voice had made him fall in love a bit harder, a bit faster.

The wind tugs insistently at his hair and Blaine blinks. The ocean rumbles in his ears and his thoughts scatter around confused. Why isn’t Kurt here? He forces his legs to move, following the line of the shore up to the diner he was in the last time. It is closed today, shutters covering the windows and sign creaking in the salty wind. Blaine feels as if he has fallen right into a dream from which he doesn’t know how to wake up. Maybe he doesn’t want to. The past weeks have been draining; his heart and his bones too heavy to smile properly, to even feel the warmth of the sun on the rare sunny days February brings to the city. Standing here, on the edge of the unknown, breath coming a bit short with trepidation, Blaine feels more alive than he has felt in weeks. He knows it is because Kurt is close to him and because his heart is hoping too much.

He keeps walking along the shore, before taking a turn and walking up the beach, towards that house he has always liked so much. The wooden stairs creak under his shoes, Blaine can feel his thoughts running too fast and something like memories trying to bubble up to the surface.

“You asked me to spend the night here with you.”

Blaine’s heart jumps up in his throat as he lifts his gaze. Kurt is standing on the patio, right in front of the door.

“What…”

“I left. It took all my willpower, though. You were so beautiful.”

Blaine swallows thickly, somehow forcing his feet to take the last steps. Kurt looks straight at him, eyes clear and lips hidden behind his blue scarf. Blaine’s whole body is wrung up tight with the need to reach out, to pull him closer. Kurt belongs in the circle of his arms.

“At first I thought I was crazy. I kept blanking out and I would see you, always you.”

The wind plays with Kurt’s hair, Blaine thinks about all the dreams he has had. How solid and true they felt.

“We had already met.”

Kurt nods, his brows furrowed, and Blaine wonders if he is biting his lower lip behind the scarf.

“We had already loved each other.”

Blaine lets Kurt’s words sink in, like shards of glass travelling right to the core of him. He has suspected it, how could he not? Especially after the evening he spent alone on the Charles. Yet, it had seemed so absurd. Blaine knows his love for Kurt, knows the way it is nestled deep inside of him. For him to decide to erase it all…it seems impossible. He lowers his gaze. There’s sand gathered on the old wooden boards.

“Why then? Why did we end up here?”

“Once you told me that we had lost each other. Maybe we ended up here again because of that.”

Blaine blinks, something hard pressing against his breastbone. He remembers how hard he slammed the door that day, the vibrations crawling up his arms. Slowly he lifts his gaze. Kurt is still looking at him, his eyes slightly watery.

“It was the day we broke up. For the first time, I mean.”

Kurt nods, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. It all comes in a rush, like a slap. The tiredness and the pain. How much it had hurt to see that Kurt didn’t believe in him, in what they had.

“You hurt me. You…didn’t trust me.”

Blaine can see the shift in Kurt’ eyes, in his posture. He is standing straighter now, like he does when he wants to defend himself. Blaine has always hated to be responsible for that look on Kurt’s face.

“And you deleted me, Blaine.”

Kurt turns, striding up to the bannister, his hands gripping it tight. Blaine remains where he is, looking at his back.

“I asked Quinn and Rachel, you know? And as they talked…every single word…it was the truth, Blaine. I could feel it, I could see it in my mind.”

Blaine nods, even though Kurt isn’t looking at him. He hates the way his voice breaks when he finally speaks, but he can’t help it.

“We…we loved each other very much, though. I…”

He wants to say he still does, he always will. It is the truth, but it is terrifying. What if Kurt says he doesn’t love him anymore? What if they keep breaking each other?
Kurt turns around, the setting sun like a halo behind him.

“We did.”

Blaine takes a deep breath, heart hammering against his ribcage. The crazy rhythm of his need and his fear.

“Do you have any idea…why the erasure didn’t work? Was it because we are meant to…”

“I…I don’t know.”

Blaine closes his eyes. It is easier like this, not looking at Kurt. It feels so good to be close to him again, to see him instead of living off memories of his eyes and his smiles. But Blaine doesn’t want to see Kurt saying that he doesn’t know how they managed to find each other again. He doesn’t want to see him doubting them once again.

“Why. Why can’t you believe there is a meaning in this? In me and you and…”

The touch of Kurt’s hand on his forearm comes like an electric shock.

“Look at me.”

His voice is steady, but the weight of the words left unsaid is almost a physical force pressing against Blaine’s chest. He lifts his gaze. Kurt’s scarf has slid down and now he can see when Kurt bites on his lower lip.

“Don’t…don’t think I don’t want to believe.”

Kurt doesn’t let go of him and Blaine can feel his fingertips pressing into his coat and down into his skin.

“Then what is it?”

“I am scared.”

Blaine knows the feeling, curled at the bottom of his stomach, but he has seen - he has felt - how happy they can be together. He doesn’t think he could live with himself if he let Kurt go. He will never be able to let go. The failure of the erasure showed them that much.

“I am too, but…”

Kurt’s grip tightens, his eyes darker in the half light.

“You promised, Blaine. You…”

Before Blaine can even register what is happening, Kurt has already thrust a small box in his hands and has turned to walk away.

“Wait, Kurt!”

He doesn’t turn.

“I just…need some space. I’ll be back there.”

He gestures towards the far away corner of the patio. Blaine nods numbly, fingers tightening around the box. The sun is paling and there isn’t much light. He moves closer to the patio’s edge. The ocean keeps roaring in front of him, there’s the faint trace of Kurt’s cologne in the air. Blaine can feel his heart thumping in his ears as he opens the box. There’s a ring nestled inside of it. Blaine blinks, not understanding why Kurt has brought it here. Then he notices that the ring is made of gum-wrappers and it’s as though the whole world has just clicked back into place.

He remembers in perfect clarity the evenings spent at the kitchen table while Kurt slept in his bed, sated and beautiful. He remembers how his thoughts used to revolve around his and Kurt’s wedding as he worked. Blaine had imagined it all, from the dresses to the songs. He remembers Kurt’s smile when he fell to his knees and offered him that silly ring. Most of all he remembers the happiness, bone deep and untamed.

Kurt is sitting on the stairway that leads from the house down to the beach. He is looking in the direction of the lighthouse. The sun paints half of his face orange. He looks otherworldly and Blaine clutches the box closer to his chest. His throat feels too tight when he forces out the words.

“It was pretty cheesy even for my standards.”

Kurt shakes his head and turns, a small smile on his lips.

“It was.”

Blaine moves closer and without a word Kurt shifts to the side to leave him space to sit down.

“I meant what I promised.”

He can hear Kurt’s intake of breath but Blaine quickly lifts his hand. He needs to say it all, to bare it all.

“I know we’ve hurt each other. We didn’t communicate, I let go of your hand and you of mine. But I loved you. I remember it now. I loved you as I love you now. I…I’ve fallen in love with you two different times, despite all that it was in between.”

This time his fingers tremble when he opens the box and takes out the ring. The foil of the wrappers shines feebly in the half light.

“You were, you are, the only one, Kurt. I…I’m sure I’d keep loving you through thousands of erasures”

Kurt’s sob resounds like thunder in the space between them.

“Blaine…I…”

There’s so much fear in his voice and Blaine hates that. He knows he was born for Kurt, to make him happy. Hoping that Kurt won’t reject him, Blaine reaches over and takes his hand. Kurt’s skin is cold against his and Blaine can feel Kurt tensing up, even though he doesn’t pull away.

“Both the first time we met and the second time, I was alone, Kurt. I thought I was happy but I wasn’t. I was like…a lonely warbler.”

Kurt sniffs, his fingers curling around Blaine, giving him the strength to go on.

“Did you know that real warblers won’t sing alone? If a warbler loses its flock or is caged separately it sits silently until another one shows up. It’s not that he doesn’t have a beautiful voice - it’s just that without a companion he just doesn’t feel like singing anymore. I was like that, before I met you. Before I fell in love with you. You…are the love of my life, Kurt.”

Blaine keeps his gaze on Kurt’s face, on the whirlwind of emotions in his eyes. He can see it all, wrapped up inside Kurt. The kid who played in the backyard with his dad, the boy who got slammed against lockers, the man who took his own life in his hands and shone so much brighter than everyone else around him. Blaine sees Kurt, the man he has fallen in love with all over again despite their own mistakes and the cruel game of fate. He wants a life time of this – sitting by Kurt’s side, looking into his eyes and holding his hand.

Kurt blinks, tears like pearls on his eyelashes.

“You…you mean it?”

“Every single word, Kurt. For as long as you want me.”

Kurt’s smile is breathtaking. Blaine is sure he could write songs about it until the end of time. Kurt doesn’t answer, he simply frees his hand from Blaine’s grip. For an instant Blaine freezes, heart almost stopping its wild race. Then Kurt’s arms are around him, strong and safe and home. Blaine buries his face in Kurt’s coat and closes his eyes. He wonders if this is what it feels like to be born.

“Forever.”

Blaine pulls back slightly, tilting his head up to look at Kurt. He is smiling, eyes still teary. Blaine wants to kiss him so badly his whole body shakes with it. Kurt smiles, slow and tender.

“That’s for how long I’ll want you.”

This time Blaine doesn’t give himself the chance to hesitate. Kurt’s arms tighten around him the moment their lips touch. He can feel Kurt’s warm breath, the wetness of his tongue. And he shivers from head to toe, down to his heart. The ring he made all that time ago digs into the skin of his palm, closed on Kurt’s chest, holding tight. Heat sparkles at the base of his spine when Kurt moans against his lips, small and rich and precious.

They break to breathe and Blaine blinks in the bluish air. The sun has set, but they are close enough that Blaine can see the way Kurt’s eyes crinkle at the corners. He brushes their noses together. Now Blaine remembers how Kurt used to laugh about it the first time they got together. Blaine would tackle Kurt, pinning him to the mattress and would brush their noses together until Kurt would kiss him and flip them over to make him stop.

“I am sorry. For having run away again.”

Kurt’s voice is grave, his lips set in a thin line. Blaine can see the guilt in his eyes and shakes his head, cupping Kurt’s cheek and running his thumb over the curve of it.

“I am sorry too. Guess that when you love too much, you’re always bound to make mistakes. Just promise me that if it happens again we will stay and figure it all out.”

///

Kurt’s throat is tight and he is sure his heart has just burst open. The pain and the confusion are still a dull ache at the back of his mind. He knows they’ll remain there for a while longer, but now happiness is like a balm, soothing and already healing. Even in the darkest moments, when he had wanted to smash something after he had discovered that his visions were memories, that Blaine had gone and deleted him for real, hope was always lurking under the surface. Hope that they’d fix it all and get back to the beginning. Like they are now, sitting on a staircase in Montauk, Blaine so close that his breath caresses Kurt’s lips with every exhale.

“I promise.”

Kurt has always known that when it comes to his own feelings, he has never been the bravest. He could face his bullies back in high school, he can make his voice heard in the fashion design jungle of New York City, but when it comes to baring his own heart it is a completely different story. He also knows that Blaine was and is the only one he felt ready to try for. Because under Blaine’s attentive gaze, under his gentle touch, Kurt never felt ruined or wrong.

Blaine smiles and it is like a punch to Kurt’s breastbone, how much he has missed it. Then Blaine lowers his gaze and opens his hand. Resting on his palm there is the ring, the gum-wrapper ring Kurt didn’t throw away the day he piled up broken memories into the bags he carried over to the Serenity Clinic. It is darker now and the only lights are the ones of the lighthouse up ahead of them and the one of an old lamp post higher on the road. The colors of the wrappers glint faintly and an emotion too big to contain sloshes inside Kurt.

“Can I?”

Blaine’s voice is like silk and Kurt nods. His touch is sure as he takes hold of Kurt’s hand and slides the ring in place. The feeling of the band around his finger is familiar, it grounds Kurt’s floating heart.

“I love you.”

It stumbles past his lips before Kurt can do anything to keep it inside. The feeling has always been there, but during the train ride to Montauk Kurt didn’t envision himself saying it out loud. It feels as though those words have become part of him, as though his love for Blaine has become something intrinsic, forever to stay. That’s why he was scared. As always, when it comes to Blaine, it seems his heart tries to break free of his ribcage for Blaine to see, to know it all.

Blaine hugs him close, lips brushing against Kurt’s ear as he speaks.

“When I’m with you I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Kurt closes his eyes against the sheer force of love spreading through him. He holds onto Blaine tighter as the night settles over Montauk and the ocean keeps roaring its lullaby.

***
Four years later

Blaine stretches, standing right in the warm patch of light the sun has printed on their bedroom’s floor. Kurt is still asleep, legs tangled in the sheets and an arm stretched out, resting on Blaine’s side of the bed. His naked back rises and falls and Blaine’s fingertips tingle with the desire to slide down the smooth milky skin.

Waking up by Kurt’s side still takes him aback sometimes. It feels like they have already spent two lifetimes together and yet the simple truth of Kurt’s legs tangled with his, of Kurt’s hand splayed on his stomach, makes Blaine’s life seem brand new every single morning. Even on those days when their schedules don’t line up, Blaine pads into the kitchen to find Kurt’s mug in the sink and the scent of coffee still in the air. Their clothes are hung side by side inside the wardrobe and Kurt’s products are religiously lined on the bathroom’s shelves.

*

The first night they spent in their new house, Kurt curled close to Blaine, head resting on his shoulder, whispering that the sound of the ocean so close made his soul tremble. The following morning Blaine woke up early, put on only a pair of boxers and sat at the foot of the bed with his guitar. Strumming gently he sang about their souls, calling for each other through lost memories. Kurt woke up with a sleepy smile and crawled across the bed to lie beside Blaine. Azure eyes looking up at him, naked skin stretched on the blankets like an unknown continent. They spent that day in bed, singing together and making love until Blaine felt as though his contours were blurring, seeping in and out of Kurt. One.

That’s the title Blaine chose for his first album. Getting back with Kurt, sliding back into what felt like his right place in the universe, opened a dam Blaine hadn’t realized was closed. A simple touch, a simple word from Kurt made Blaine’s whole body shiver with the need to compose and to sing. It was Kurt who helped him contact the independent label that finally decided to produce the album. Kurt’s lips tasted of the salt of his tears when Blaine showed him the album cover for the first time. Blaine had added a small post-it. It read:

To my beautiful blackbird:
In the gentle curve of your heart – that’s exactly where I want to be

*

Cooper and the others will be here in a couple of hours and Blaine is supposed to get down to the kitchen and fix him and Kurt a quick breakfast. But the sun is warm on his skin, the ocean sings outside and Kurt looks too gorgeous to be a creature of this world. Slowly Blaine lies down on the bed again, heart heavy with love in his chest. Kurt stirs, muscles flexing under Blaine’s hands.

“Mmm”

“Good morning, baby.”

Kurt turns onto his back, eyes fluttering open. They are clearer in the morning, all azure and light grey. His arms wrap around Blaine, pulling him closer. Kurt has told him how much he likes the feeling of his body covering him, pressing him down into the mattress. It feels safe, he said, like being anchored to Earth. Blaine takes hold of the blanket and drags it down. Kurt’s legs open silently for him to nestle between them.

Kurt’s naked skin is warm and smooth, his thighs firm where they press against Blaine’s waist, bracketing and defining him.

“I’ll never stop wanting you, you know that?”

Kurt smiles and thrusts his hips up. His half-hard cock presses against Blaine’s hip. Even after all these years, it still sends sparks scattering around inside of Blaine, the knowledge that Kurt desires him, that he is the one who can do this to and with Kurt.

Blaine kisses Kurt like his life depends on it, mind made fuzzy by the feeling of Kurt filling up against him. His fingers trail down Kurt’s chest, before grazing against his length and disappearing in the warm place behind his balls. They made love yesterday night, Kurt riding Blaine with his hands splayed on his chest. Afterwards he said he could feel Blaine’s heart as it slammed against his ribcage with every trust. Blaine knows he is still stretched, but he takes his time anyway. He loves how responsive Kurt is, how his back arches off the bed and his thighs tremble when Blaine crooks his fingers just so. But above all he loves the fact that in these moments any distance between them is annihilated. He is inside Kurt or Kurt is inside him and there are no boundaries to define where one starts and the other begins.

When Blaine pushes inside, Kurt bites down on his bicep. The spark of pain ignites the pleasure even more. It rises and breaks and spreads as they move together – skin sliding and breath mingling in the space between their brushing lips. Blaine’s fingers dig into the soft skin of Kurt’s thighs and he shivers as Kurt moans, the sounds vibrating down his body and up up to Blaine’s heart.

Kurt makes love the same way he sings. He lets go of the restraints he keeps up in the outside world. He is pure and crystal clear, naked down to his beating heart in Blaine’s hands. Blaine knows he’ll never stop being grateful for this, for the way Kurt chants his name, nails digging into Blaine’s shoulders and body twisting to meet every thrust. When he comes, Kurt’s legs tighten around Blaine’s waist, his heels digging into the small of his back, driving him deeper. Blaine loves the feeling of Kurt squeezing so tight and then relaxing all around him. He loves to push into him again and again as Kurt’s body goes soft and unbearably warm. Blaine comes whispering “I love you” against the corner of Kurt’s mouth.

///

“Is this okay?”

Kurt lifts his gaze up from the tomatoes he has been chopping. Blaine is holding up a package of penne.

“Yup.”

Blaine throws the package in the air and catches it, a bright grin on his lips.

“You remember last time when you spilled spaghetti all over the kitchen floor, right?”

Blaine shrugs, his curls are still wet from the shower and don’t bounce around as usual. Kurt still feels warm and loose, the ghost of Blaine inside of him still making his skin tingle.

Sometimes it doesn’t even feel real, what they have built for themselves on the ruins of their failed erasures. It took time to remember it all again, to learn all over again how to fit into each other’s lives. At first Kurt had been scared, but then, step after step, kiss after kiss, the world had shifted back into place. Waking up beside Blaine, sipping coffee at the kitchen table with his foot pressing against Blaine’s ankle, coming back home to Blaine’s music sheets piled on the coffee table and peeking out from under the couch. Everything is such a big part of his life that Kurt doesn’t remember how it was to live without.

Kurt slips around the kitchen isle and easily plucks the package out of Blaine’s hands.

“Hey!”

“I am the cook here, remember?”

Blaine’s arms squeeze at his waist as Kurt is weighing the pasta on the scale. Blaine’s breath is warm between his shoulder blades.

“A bottle of white, a bottle of red, perhaps a bottle of rose instead. We'll get a table near the street in our old familiar place. You and I, face to face.”

Kurt laughs and can feel Blaine’s matching grin through the thin cotton of his t-shirt.

“That song is about a restaurant, Blaine.”

Blaine chuckles.

“Well, you cooked me that lasagna and bought a bottle of Chianti for our second anniversary, don’t you remember? You are a bit like my personal Italian restaurant.”

“You are ridiculous.”

Blaine tugs at his t-shirt and Kurt turns around.

“You love me.”

Three words that hold more truth than anything else in the world. Blaine’s eyes are brimming with affection and wonder. Kurt wonders how can Blaine still be so amazed when it comes to what they feel for each other. How could Kurt not be completely in love with him? Beautiful, talented, kind Blaine who can paint the world brighter with a simple smile?

“Of course I do.”

Blaine tastes of coffee and a faint trace of strawberry jam. Kurt would gladly spend the whole day kissing him. But the water is boiling and the first guests will arrive soon. Kurt’s thumbs trace soothing circles over the triangles of Blaine’s hipbones as he pulls back.

“Later.”

Blaine’s eyes glint as his lips pull up in a grin.

“Deal.”

*

Kurt easily avoids tripping on Cooper’s stretched legs and makes his way to the table holding a bowl of fruit salad. Blaine is busy talking with Wes, hands flying around as he recounts the last concert. Wes had been busy with university, something about grading papers for his literature class, and had missed it.

Among the many things Kurt loves about Blaine there’s the way he cares about his friends, the way he truly opens himself up and trusts them. Kurt still remembers how betrayed by Rachel and Quinn he had felt when he had discovered they had known of the erasure all along. Now he knows they didn’t have any choice if they wanted to protect him, but he didn’t want to see it at first. Blaine, instead, didn’t yell at Wes’ face and didn’t shut him out. Kurt looks at them talking and knows down to the core of his bones that he wants to grow old by Blaine’s side.

“Hey, squirt! How did you manage to get Kurt here so hopelessly in love with you?”

Kurt spins around to face a grinning Cooper.

“I got lucky.”

Blaine’s voice is soft and gentle and Kurt’s heart skips a beat. He busies himself with serving the fruit. Quinn’s bracelets jingle as she reaches out to take her cup. Rachel is sitting on her lap, a tanned arm draped around Quinn’s shoulders.

“Thank you, baby.”

Kurt sits down on the patio’s floor right beside their chair. He doesn’t have much free time lately, what with helping Blaine promoting “One” and with the work over at the fashion firm. He likes being busy and coming home with his body buzzing, but he misses spending time with them.

They used to have brunch together in random small cafes or at Kurt’s apartment. Sometime they would watch old movies on Quinn and Rachel’s couch. Then Blaine joined them, after he and Kurt got back together. It felt absolutely right and a bit like being a family. The day Kurt opened the door and found Blaine holding up a picture of the old house on the beach in Montauk, Kurt’s heart had threatened to burst out of his chest and flop down on the landing. The thought of them having a house to call their own had burned like a star in his mind – blinding – but Kurt had known he was going to miss having his best friends close enough that he could knock on their door only fifteen minutes after having hung up the phone.

“I miss you girls.”

Rachel smiles around a spoonful of fruit and Quinn’s hand comes up to squeeze at Kurt’s knee.

“We miss you too. We should do this more often.”

Kurt nods. He loves having space to be with Blaine freely, a place where they can make love on the living room’s floor or lounge on the patio trading kisses on warm evenings. But he also loves those summer weekends when Quinn and Rachel come over and sleep in the guest room. To have Rachel blinking sleepily at him from behind a mug of coffee reminds him of their university years and of their small apartment in Bushwick. He likes the way there’s always noise filling up the house – laughter and conversation and songs.

Cooper’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, Kurt! How long before I get to be an uncle?”

Kurt looks at him, grinning and waving his spoon around, then turns to look at Blaine. He is looking right back, his smile shy and hopeful. They have talked about children, soft whispers under the shared refuge of their blankets. Kurt knows Blaine would be a wonderful father. Sometimes, when Kurt looks at him sitting on the wooden stairs outside strumming his guitar, he can almost picture a little boy or girl sat beside him. They haven’t spoken about it with their friends yet. Their lives have been a whirlwind of moving to their new house and dreams coming true, moving fast enough to leave Kurt’s head spinning. He wanted to be sure before saying it out loud, but now, looking at Blaine his heart expands with happiness and certainty.

“Don’t you worry about it, Coop.”

“I knew it! Hurry up, Blainey.”

Blaine shakes his head, the smile on his face is almost blinding and Kurt’s heart literally leaps in his chest.

///

The sun is setting when they wave at their friends’ cars. A gentle breeze is playing with Kurt’s hair, his face painted pink by the light. Blaine looks at him and thinks about the gum-wrappers ring he made years ago. Now it rests on Kurt’s nightstand, right beside the postcard of Penn Station. When they moved into their new house Kurt told him he wanted them to be there because he didn’t want to forget ever again. Blaine kissed him then and he kisses him now. Kurt’s hand comes up to cup his cheek, Blaine can feel the coolness of the real ring he slipped on Kurt’s finger on their first anniversary. He isn’t afraid of forgetting, not anymore. After all, they have learned that the heart that truly loves never forgets.

THE END