It was six o'clock on a Friday evening. Kurt and Blaine were too busy getting dressed to notice the knocks on the door. Well, more like Kurt was too busy dressing Blaine, and Blaine was too busy trying to keep Kurt from making him look ridiculous to notice the knocks on the door.

“Blaine, hold still!”

“How can I hold still when you're attacking my hair with that, that… thing! That monstrosity!”

“It's not a thing, Blaine! It's called a hairdryer, Blaine.”

“I don't believe you! It spits fire! It must be a dragon.”

“It's not fire, it's just heat. It blows heat to dry your hair. Hence the name, hair dryer.”

“Kurt, I already let you put that leave-in conditioner and styling cream in my hair. You combed it, and you cut like two inches off the sides. Haven't I suffered enough?”

“Blaine, we live in New York City. It's spring, and it's fifty degrees outside. If you walk out there like that, you'll get sick.”

“Oh, that's just an old wives tale.”

Kurt sighed in frustration.

“You owe me this! We replaced Rocco!”

“Yeah, for the better!”

“Really? Because an ancient, rusty clock that's basically falling apart and probably gave me tetanus as soon as I touched it is better than my Jonathan Adler original?”

Blaine sighs. “You know what, Kurt? Fine, you win. Blow me away.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, shakes his head and chuckles a little, then goes back to drying Blaine's hair. Blaine won't deny that he kind of likes Kurt taking care of him so much. Kurt had picked out their outfits. They were complementary, not matching, because according to Kurt “matching outfits are tacky unless your five.”

Finally Kurt was finished, and when Blaine looked in the mirror, he couldn't argue with the results.

“Wow, Kurt. While I don't necessarily agree with you torturous methods,” he says while Kurt rolls his eyes again, “I will say that you did a good job. My hair actually looks good right now.”

“Damn straight! And now it actually feels like hair, as opposed to a rock that's been brought up from the bottom of the sea, pressurized by tons of water.”

“I can always count on my husband to make me feel special, can't I?”

“Oh, you don't need me to make you feel special. I think you know how special you are without me telling you,” Kurt says as they walked out from the bathroom to the living room, finally ready after what felt like hours to Blaine. Kurt looks at the clock.

“Oh! It's already six! I wonder where Rachel and Jesse are?”

Then they heard a pounding on the door.

“Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson! Open this damn door immediately!” they could heard Rachel shrieking outside their apartment. Kurt looked at Blaine with a panicked look.

“Oh God,” he said, and ran to open the door.

“Honey, calm down, or you'll hurt your voice,” they could hear Jesse say.  

“I don't care! I have been knocking for the past ten minutes! If you don't get your sorry asses to this door right now, I swear to Barbra Streisand herself that I will-!”

Kurt swings the door open wide, revealing a seething Rachel and a frightened Jesse.

“Oh,” Rachel says, regaining her composure and smoothing out her dress. “Well, it's about time.”

He let them both inside. Blaine comes up and gives them both hugs. Apparently Kurt isn't the only one who can't resist a Blaine hug.

“Sorry about that,” Kurt says. “I was just trying to tame the beast known as Blaine's mane of hair.”

“Oh!” Rachel says, taking a step back to get a good look at Blaine's tamed curls. “Well it does look a lot better then his helmet of gel.”

“Hey!” Blaine says.

“Right!” Kurt exclaims at the same time.

Jesse pats him in the back. “Good job, Kurt. I knew it could be done, I just figured the right man had to come along.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Oh my goodness.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? If we keep dallying we'll lose our reservation at the restaurant,” Rachel chastises. “Come on, let's go!”

They walk out of the semi-modern, semi-new (if you consider the 80's new) apartment complex and catch a taxi to the other side of town. Jesse pulled some strings and reserved dinner for them at a fancy, four star, new up and coming thai fusion restaurant that all the critics were raving about.

“Whoa, what a cool place!” Blaine exclaimed as they walked in. There was a giant stone water fountain in the middle of the restaurant, and traditional Thai decorations throughout the whole place. They were seated at a table by a waiter named Susie. She was a perky woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties, and had a thick African accent. She complimented Kurt and Blaine on their outfits, and then took their orders for drinks. By the time she returned with them, Jesse had already launched into a lengthy (but quite funny) story about how he had recently found out about Rachel's previously secret obsession with the Barney theme song.

“No way!” Kurt exclaimed. “How did I not find out about this when we were living together, Rach?”

“Because I only sing it when I'm positive that no one is around,” Rachel grumbled.

“Except I caught her this time!” Jesse said. “So, she was going to do yoga, right? And I was just about to leave to go to work at the theater. But, I forgot my script. Normally, I could just ask for another one, of course, but this had all my notes and highlights in it, and my good luck essence on it.”

“Good luck essence?” asks Blaine.

“Of course,” says Jesse. “Since I spent so long holding it, the script absorbed my escence, which basically infused it with good luck.”

“Naturally,” Kurt says, with an imperceptible sarcastic tone in his voice. Well, imperceptible to Jesse, at least, who continues with his story.

“So I come back to the apartment, and there I see Rachel, my amazing wife, dancing to “I love you, you love me” which is playing on the television!”

Kurt, Blaine and Jesse laugh, while Rachel glares at all of them.

“Ha ha guys. Very funny, so hilarious.”

“Oh, come on sweetie,” Jesse says to her in a saccharine soaked voice. “Don't take it so hard. I'm sure there will be plenty of chances later tonight to embarrass me.”

“You're right,” she says. “And believe me when I tell you I will be taking advantage of every single one of them.”

Everyone laughs again, and they enjoy an easy conversation over their food. Blaine's over earnestness and Kurt's searing sarcasm and wit balance out Jesse's and Rachel's over inflated egos, so it's a particularly good match. All goes well until Jesse spills a bit of peanut satay sauce on his shirt.

“Oh shoot!” he exclaims. Rachel tries dabbing at it with a napkin.

“What? Are you insane? Don't do that!” Kurt exclaims, smacking the napkin out of Rachel's hand and onto the floor. “You're just rubbing it in! This is exactly why I carry a stain emergency kit everywhere I go,” he says, pulling a small black bag out of nowhere.

“Come on Jesse,” he says. “Come to the bathroom with me. I'll have you cleaned up in five minutes flat.”

“Wow, Kurt. You're a hero!” Jesse exclaims, following him to the bathroom like a puppy.

Blaine and Rachel sit at the table in silence for a few seconds until Blaine tries to make small talk with her.

“So, I heard that Barbra Streisand is making a special appearance at the Tony's this year. Are you excited?”

“I know what you did,” she tells Blaine.

She was afraid to say anything at first, knowing how Kurt would react if he found out, but she couldn't hold it in any longer. Blaine looks at her, confused.

“Wh-what do you mean?” he asks.

“I know what you did to Kurt all those years ago, when you came to McKinley,” she says, hissing out her comments quietly, afraid they would carry to Kurt's ears.

“I-I still don't understand...” Blaine says, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Don't play dumb!” Rachel yells, smacking her hand down on the table. Blaine flinched backwards. People in the restaurant turned around to look at her. Certain tourists hoped that there would be some signature New York City drama, just like how they saw on all of the TV shows. But Rachel lowered her voice again.

“I know everything, Blaine. I know how you were friends, how he defended you in front of Karofsky, how you ran away. I know you ignored him afterwards, and how you made friends with all the bullies. I know how you beat him up.” Rachel hardened her tone even more on those last three words, visible shaking with rage. Her gaze was aimed straight at his, like a laser, daring him to look away, to act cowardly again. But he held, his eyes looked sad.

“Well,” she said, after a few more seconds of silence. “Do you have anything to say? Huh?”

He hugged himself. “No.”

“No!” Rachel yelled again, drawing looks from more than half of the restaurant this time.

“Okay, okay,” Blaine said, attempting to shush her. “I do have something to say. I...I tried to forget about that for a long time. I was so ashamed. I was a coward, and Kurt was so brave.” Blaine's voice was thick with regret.

“When he said he had forgiven me for what I did, I didn't believe him at first. But then he kept insisting that it was fine, and I just took it as a miracle.”

“Well isn't this convenient for you,” Rachel says, the bitterness obvious in her voice.

“Look, I know that you have every right to hate me…”

“Damn right I do!”

Blaine looked up at her with sad eyes.

“Rachel…”

“No, you listen to me, Blaine Anderson. You are lucky to be married to someone as wonderful and great as Kurt is.”

“I know,” he says.

“No, you don't. For the longest time, I thought this whole stupid feud was over jealousy. That he just disliked you because you got more solos or something. So yeah, I thought he was being a little petty. But then, after a little digging,” she lied, not wanting to reveal that Kurt had told her, “I found out what you did. He cared about you and you stabbed him in the back!” She yelled once more, and the tourists turned to the attention again, hopeful looks in their eyes.

“And I feel awful-”

“I don't care how you feel! Kurt may have forgiven you, but I sure as hell don't.”

Blaine was a little scared. He had never seen Rachel so angry before.

“You hurt my best friend. And that is something I don't forgive easily. You're on my radar, Anderson. And I swear to God if you ever lay an unwanted hand on him again, I will call my personal lawyer and file a domestic abuse case. You will regret much more than that stupid hairstyle you wore for half of your life.”

Blaine was shocked. He knew Rachel better to know that they weren't hollow threats. He just didn't think that what happened so long ago would ever surface again. He hated himself for so long for what he did to Kurt, and when Kurt had told him to forget it, that's honestly what he did. He had known that his actions would come back to haunt him again eventually, though. He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again.

“You're despicable,” Rachel said.

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. Then Blaine saw a weird look in Rachel's eyes. She started laughing and kicked him underneath the table.

“Ow,” he said and turned around. Kurt and Jesse were back from the bathroom, stain completely gone.

“That's amazing!” Rachel exclaimed. “You got it all out!”

“Yeah,” Jesse said, sitting down in his chair. “Kurt pulled out this little bowl and started mixing all of these ingredients together. He was like an alchemist! Then he puts this white colored paste on my shirt, and three minutes later, the stain is gone! It wasn't even wet afterwards!”

“Wow, that's really impressive.”

“Well, you know, you can't love clothes as much as I do without knowing how to take care of them. So what did you two gab about while we were gone?” Kurt smiles, looking between Blaine and Rachel.

“Uh…” Blaine stammers.

“Oh, you know, just silly stuff. I was telling Blaine about how I think my mom will be nominated for another Tony this year.”

“Of course she will!” Jesse exclaimed. “Did you see her in her newest piece? She was fantastic!”

The rest of dinner continued on as if nothing had happened. The group enjoyed the rest of their time there, and once they were home, Kurt and Blaine bid Jesse and Rachel goodnight.

“So, did you have fun?” Kurt asks Blaine.

“Um, yeah, I did.” Blaine says. “Jesse and Rachel are a lot of fun.” Except I'm pretty sure that Rachel hates me now. Although that's my own fault.

“Perfect! I'm so glad. You were right, tonight was a good decision. I'm glad we went.”

“I'm glad we went too,” Blaine said.

“So,” Kurt began, wiggling his eyebrows. “Do you want to watch more American Idol? We still have three episodes to catch up on.”

“Sure,” Blaine says. They both change into pajamas and sit on the couch together. Blaine wonders if Kurt can ever love him if his best friend hates him. But after a few moments, he decides to stop worrying and focus on the beautiful man sitting next to him.

On Sunday morning, despite Kurt's protests, Blaine had convinced him that it was a good idea to take a walk outside.

“Blaine, it's April, and my app says that there's a seventy-two percent chance of rain for the next hour.”

“And? Come on Kurt! Live a little! Who cares if we get soaked? I found this bakery not too far from here that sells Nutella crepes! NUTELLA!” Blaine yells, jumping up and down and pulling Kurt forward by the arm so that he stumbles behind him.

“Okay, alright,” Kurt says laughingly. “If I had known that you loved Nutella this much, I would've made you some of my amazing Nutella truffles.”

Blaine freezes and turns to look at Kurt.

“N-Nutella truffles?” he asks, stammering. “Y-you can d-do that?” Blaine looks at Kurt with eyes wide in wonderment, as if Kurt just told him he might possess some magical powers, or that he could breathe fire.

“Uh, yeah,” Kurt says, confused at Blaine's sudden awkwardness and misplaced reverence. “Is that okay?”

“O-okay?” Kurt thinks Blaine might start hyperventilating, considering the way he was breathing heavily. “Kurt,” he whispers in admiration, “you're my hero.”

“Um, okay. I'm guessing this is your way of telling me that you want me to make some for you.”

Blaine's face blanches. He puts one hand on his cheek and the other over his mouth. Something between a high pitched squeal of disbelief and a giggle escapes his mouth, before he lowers his voice and says “Kurt, you would do that for me?”

“Blaine, it's not that big of a deal…”

Suddenly, Blaine gets on one knee and starts reciting Shakespeare's sonnet 18.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more-”

“Alright,” Kurt says, cutting him off. He pulls Blaine up by the coat collar and pushes him out of the door. “That's enough of that.”

They walk together to the bakery. It was only a few streets away, and while it wasn't warm outside, it wasn't too cold either. At one point, Blaine chances it and grabs Kurt's hand. Kurt turns and smiles at him, and simply grasps his husband's hand a little tighter.

Oh my goodness, thought Blaine. This is amazing. It's happening! The only thing that could make this better is if Kurt actually did make those Nutella truffles later. No, we're already having Nutella crepes. I have to cut down on the sweets and stay fit for my hubby. Otherwise I'll end up like the people in that Buzzfeed article that Tina showed me. I can't believe that .2 percent of all divorces in America now begin from the resentment of their spouse getting fat!

“You're pretty quiet,” Kurt says to Blaine, a delightful smile on his lips. “Lost in thought?”

Blaine chuckles nervously. “More like suffocating in them, am I right?”

Kurt gives him a look that says, “I don't really know what you're saying, but I'll smile because you're adorable anyways.”

“I mean… look Kurt, I-I,” Blaine sighs, confused about how exactly to put things without giving Rachel away. “I was thinking the other day about some of the things that happened between us when we were at McKinley.”

“Oh, Blaine” says Kurt, shaking his head. “Look, I'm really sorry about all the stuff I did, but I thought we agreed to move past that.”

“We did, we did. But I'm talking about what I did.”

Kurt looks at him confused, until he realizes what Blaine is talking about.

“Did Rachel mention anything to you?”

“What? No, not at all.” Not a good idea to start a relationship on a lie, Blaine, he thinks to himself.

“It's just something I thought about the other day. I mean, I was pretty awful, with the things I did. Especially when I… shoved you.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes. “It wasn't a big deal. I forgave you, I got over it. Remember, we said we never had to talk about it again, ever.”

“I know, I know. But I can't help but think that maybe that's part of the reason why you hated me for so long afterwards. I mean, I don't blame you. Quite frankly, I was an asshole. And I am so, so sorry for what I did. I can't even give an excuse because I know that anything I say won't be good enough to condone my actions-”

“Blaine, stop! I don't want to hear this anymore.” Kurt stops in the middle of the sidewalk and pulls Blaine to a halt. “I forgave you for that a long time ago. And you're right, maybe I did let it get to me for awhile, but it's a non-issue anymore. That part of our lives is over. I just want to focus on what's happening now.”

“O-okay,” said Blaine. He was still averting Kurt's gaze a little bit, but Kurt put his fingers under Blaine's chin and tilted his head up so he could look into his eyes.

“Promise me that this won't worry you again, and we'll never speak of it again.”

“I promise,” Blaine said in a breathy voice. Kurt still had one hand on his face, and they were close enough to kiss. But Kurt would never do that, and even if he would, Blaine definitely didn't want their first kiss to be on a crowded street in New York City, where people were already staring at them. So Blaine backs away and clears his throat.

“Come on,” he tells Kurt. “We're basically there.”

They walk a few more blocks to the small, hipster bakery that made “the best Nutella crepes ever, second only to my Nonna's,” according to Blaine. They walk inside and order two. Then they sit down by a window and enjoy their “extra thin pancakes burritos,” as Kurt called them. The couple have an enjoyable time, laughing and talking about the strangest dreams they had ever had. Blaine wasn't even sure how the conversation had come up.

“So my most bizarre dream was actually about us. I had it the other night. It was like some sort of alternate universe. We were dating in high school, but then you went to NYADA and we broke up, and then we got engaged, and then we broke up again! And finally, you got married to this elderly man, and I dated Karofsky.”

“Karofsky! And an elderly guy! Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I know right?! And then you two got married in a barn. And I was officiating!”

“That's insane! Okay,” Kurt began. “My craziest dream was actually about you too. I had a dream that you and I went to prom together, and for whatever reason, I was compelled to go in a skirt!”

“A skirt?” Blaine asks. “That would've been so cool!”

“And you went without hair gel!”

“Ooh, not cool.”

“Oh, come on! I like your hair now that you've stopped trapping it in that helmet of gel.”

“Yeah, but it only looks good because I have you to teach me how to style it. Otherwise I'd look like sheep before shearing day.” Kurt giggles.

“Anyways, that wasn't even the weirdest part! I got nominated prom queen!”

“What?!” Blaine laughs. “Did you give an acceptance speech?” he asks, lowering his voice to sound pseudo-serious.

“No! But I did look fabulous in my awesome kilt!” Kurt's tone got a little more serious right before he said “Finn said I looked like gay braveheart.” He chuckled mirthlessly.

“Oh, Kurt. I'm so sorry,” Blaine said comfortingly.

“It's not your fault,” Kurt said.

“No, but I should've backed off of him more. He was your brother, and I-”

“Blaine, you can't blame yourself for being friends with him. That's not what made that drunk driver hit him that night. And if he picked you over me, well then, that's just life. I don't hold anything against you for that. In fact, I'm grateful that Finn had a good friend like you, one that he trusted enough to text afterwards.”

“Yeah, but I know how much it hurt you to find out that Finn messaged Rachel and I about the car accident, and not you.”

“Well, it did sting, but I got over it. He didn't text Carole either, so we both wallowed together.”

Blaine gives Kurt a weak smile and, once again, reaches across the table to hold Kurt's hand. Once again, Kurt and his inner voice begin to argue.

There he goes again! How am I supposed to resist something so tender and sweet?

Why resist? Looks like you're having a pretty good time.

Well, yeah, but… I don't know, isn't this going too fast?

You're married. MARRIED. And you haven't even kissed the guy yet. Things are going pretty fast and slow at the same time if you ask me.

Yeah, but-

No buts! Why not just enjoy the moment? Is this hurting you? Is it bad to hold your husband's hand?

Well, no. It actually feels pretty nice.

Okay, point made.

But!

Nope! Inner voice out!

Kurt looks up to Blaine and smiles. “Come on, let's talk about something else. Finn wouldn't want us to be so sad.”

“You're right. Also, you should finish your crepe before it gets too cold.”

Kurt looks down at his half finished crepe. “Okay,” he says before taking another bite. He moans. So thin pancake burritos filled with chocolate and hazelnut spread was actually pretty good. Blaine starts talking again, saying something about how much he likes the atmosphere of this place, how it's so quaint and earnest. Kurt is too distracted by the culinary masterpiece in front of to pay too close of attention, but he listens when Blaine says his name.

“Oh, Kurt. You have some Nutella on your face.” Kurt's hand flies up to his cheek to try and wipe it off. He misses completely, and Blaine reaches up and wipes it off with his finger. Without even really thinking, he sucks his finger clean. A millisecond later, the full affect of what Blaine did kicked in. He and Kurt stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Kurt clears his throat.

“I-I just didn't want to waste good Nutella,” Blaine stammers out.

“Oh, right.” Kurt says, trying not to think about it too hard. “Well, I think I'm about done. Shall we go back home? I have to get ready for rehearsal pretty soon.”

“Okay, sure. Let's go.”

Kurt and Blaine walked back mainly in silence, but they were still holding hands.

Later that night, after they had both gotten back from work and eaten, they ran into a small problem.

“Blaine! Why is your room so cold?” Kurt asked, feeling the draft as he walked past.

“Oh, well, funny story. When I was opening the window the other day, it got stuck. I accidentally pushed too hard and it broke. Now it's stuck and won't close.

“You can't sleep in here! You'll freeze to death!”

“Kurt, it's not a big deal. I'll just use lots of blankets tonight.”

“But it's going to be really cold tonight. At least that's what my weather app says!” Kurt exclaims, holding up his phone. Blaine glances at it and sighs.

“Okay, I'll, uh, sleep on the couch then.” Blaine begins to gather up his pillow and blankets and head to the couch.

“Don't,” Kurt says. It's barely above a whisper, but Blaine still hears it anyways.

“Pardon?”

“I-I mean, you'll be really uncomfortable if you sleep on the couch. Why don't you just sleep in my bed. With me. Together.” Blaine's eyes widen.

“I-I mean not together, together! Just like, you know, in the same bed. But not too close. I mean... ugh,” Kurt groans. “What if I sleep over the sheet and you sleep under it?”

Blaine laughs, even though he's just as red as Kurt is.

“Sure,” says Blaine.

So when they got in bed, Kurt and Blaine started off on opposite sides of the bed. But when Kurt woke up the next morning to find Blaine spooning him, well who was he to complain?