The cold weather crept up on the city, making the streets treacherous and decorating roofs with icicles, their sharp points gleaming in the weak winter sunlight. For the first time since they'd gotten married, Kurt and Blaine couldn't afford to fly back to Ohio and spend Thanksgiving with their families, instead staying in the city and spending it as a couple. Blaine ordered pizza, both of them switched off their mobiles and unplugged the house phone, and their evening in was more romantic than any time snatched together in the past year. Giggling like they were ten years younger, they fed each other pizza, exchanging kisses between bites, drank a bottle of wine, rolled around on the floor trying to tickle each other into submission and made love on the kitchen tiles.

After that night, the spark finally returned to their marriage, and they quite suddenly couldn't get enough of each other. It was like they were teenagers again, just discovering everything that sex could be, only needing their eyes to meet to be in each other's arms and kissing fiercely, frantic fingers fumbling as they stripped each other. If Kurt spent too long on the phone to Santana, talking on and on about plans for her wedding, Blaine would push his thighs apart and crawl between his legs, teasing him through his pants until Kurt had to hang up, or risk Santana making fun of him for months to come about having sex while he was on the phone. While Blaine was trying to learn lines for his role as the stirring ex-husband, Kurt read in for the wife his character was desperately trying to get back, all stripping looks from underneath his lashes and coy smiles until Blaine's character shattered and he tackled Kurt to the ground.

Despite constant sex, Kurt slipped into a sadly familiar feeling of inadequacy when he went to his appointment at the beginning of December, glad that Blaine would've been at his side for once if he hadn't been called in for script changes to be discussed, to discover that he still wasn't pregnant. Yet again, he was sat down and told he simply wasn't ready to start hormone therapy. "Have you and your husband discussed adoption or surrogacy?" the doctor asked, his face a mask of sympathy as Kurt's hand, resting against his stomach in fervent hope, clenched into his sweater and his smile slipped away. "You've been my patient for four years, Mr. Hummel-Anderson, and we are yet to see any change in the results of your examinations. It could be time to seriously consider adopting a child or looking for a surrogate."

"No, Blaine and I always planned to have biological children, we don't care how long it takes, it will happen," Kurt insisted, though he could hear the doubt ringing through his words, smiling with false bravado to hide how close he was to tears. "I'll see you next month. Next year could be our year." The doctor gave him a sad nod, and turned back to his papers.

Walking out of the clinic, returning the waves of the nurses who knew him well by now, Kurt determinedly swallowed his tears until he was outside, the snowflakes dancing through the air around him as he tugged his scarf tighter around his neck and set off, hands shoved deep in his pockets, eyes trained on the sidewalk to make sure he didn't slip. The tears fell freely, warming his cold cheeks, as he walked slowly up the stairs to the apartment, nervous of walking in and having to tell Blaine again that they weren't having a baby, and the process to raise the likelihood of conception still wasn't ready to begin. Blaine wanted a baby so badly, even if he hid it well to help Kurt through the hard times after each disheartening appointment, and it was Kurt who kept failing to give him one, with time running it before their self-imposed deadline of Blaine hitting thirty. With their friends all starting families with ease, Kurt would never admit to the nightmare that haunted him in the dead of night, of Blaine leaving him for a younger man who would give him a baby within a year of marriage, not these endless medical bills and days of black gloom.

Blaine was sitting cross-legged in the armchair, a fire crackling behind the guard, and he looked up when he heard the door creak, his face lighting up the moment his eyes fell on Kurt. "Hi sweetheart, how was the appointment?" he asked, immediately launching into an apology. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, I wanted to be, but Olivia called this meeting and I can't just ignore her, she got me the job."

"The tests all brought out negative results again," Kurt said morosely, collapsing into the couch and stretching out a hand to beckon Blaine close. Seeing the tear tracks glittering on his cheeks, and his eyes outlined with red, Blaine immediately took him into his arms, kissing his cheek and pulling him in close. Encased in the warmth of Blaine's embrace, Kurt began to cry again, nuzzling his cheek against the soft sleeve of Blaine's cardigan, inhaling the scent of fabric softener. "It's just not fair. There are so many people out there with unplanned pregnancies and babies they don't want, and our friends all stunned to get pregnant so soon but so happy and proud, and we've been trying for so long and we want it so badly, and it just won't happen, and it's my fault."

"It's not your-"

"Of course it is, when we got tested in June you were still perfectly fine, everything in working order and fertile enough to have knocked me up several times by now," Kurt cut across him, a touch of bitterness creeping into his voice. "Not only did I have to be a carrier, just another reason for me to be called names and told I was a girl, but my body had to be so messed up I need treatment to actually be able to carry children. I'm so sorry, you could've married any carrier but you ended up with the one who can't actually have children without spending thousands on appointments and treatments, I don't know why you don't just leave me for someone who could pop out a baby every two years." Tears flowed thick and fast, his vision obscured entirely by them, sobs shaking his shoulders as he shrank back into Blaine's embrace, clinging desperately to him. "Please don't leave me for someone better."

Blaine held him even tighter, pressing a fierce kiss to the top of his head. "Kurt, I would give up all my dreams of being a father to stay with you, I don't care if we're never able to have children," he whispered into Kurt's hair. When he pulled away, Kurt turned in a panic, sniffing hard, trying to silence his sobs, and saw Blaine navigating quickly through his phone to Facebook, finding the inevitable pictures of Puck and Lauren's boys finger-painting. "I want this," Blaine said, pointing to the two boys with their round faces and mischievous grins, their skin and clothes and hair layered in a rainbow of drying paint. Tossing his phone aside, Blaine leaned over and cupped Kurt's face between his hands, wiping away his tears with his thumbs. "But I want this more. I love you more than any hypothetical future children we might have. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Kurt replied through a sob, and surrendered himself when Blaine leaned in for a fierce kiss. It wasn't about the want for each other surging through their veins, but a reassurance. They loved each other, and they would make it, and nothing could turn them off course. Not working too hard, not difficulty in having children, not even a one night stand with an incorrigible flirt who was probably still boasting about the ease with which he'd lured a married man into bed.

As Christmas drifted closer, commercials and advertisements featuring doting parents buying their children the presents of their dreams sending Kurt spiralling in melancholia, Blaine was the poster for a sweet, supportive husband. He steered Kurt away from the children's department when they went Christmas shopping, reassuring him that it would happen one day but looking would only drag him down, gave him foot rubs and massages, cooked for him and drew baths thick with bubbles and was so incredibly patient and romantic that Kurt wondered how he could ever have thought him inconsiderate or wanted to spend time in someone else's arms.

The spell was finally broken the night they put up their Christmas tree. Returning with a small tree for their small apartment, Blaine had sliced off the bottom of a cardboard box to stand the pot inside and avoid getting needles all over the floor and they'd decorated it together, carefully hanging the ornaments and baubles before draping the branches in string of lights and small gold bells, tinsel in every colour glowing in the moonlight. When Blaine had lassoed Kurt's waist with a length of tinsel and reeled him in for a kiss, Kurt had let the want that had been bubbling within him all day flow freely and pulled Blaine down on top of him, the dancing lights illuminating Blaine's dark eyes as they made love, writhing together like dancers before collapsing in a heap where the presents would be stacked on Christmas Day.

Alas, it was too cold for them to stay naked for long, and they wrapped up in their pyjamas and ugly Christmas sweaters, curled up together on the couch withLove Actuallyturned down low on the TV and mugs of hot chocolate warming their hands. "This is a perfect Christmas," Kurt murmured, leaning against Blaine's chest and stretching his legs, purring like a cat when Blaine's hand strayed into his hair, fingers combing through it and gently massaging his scalp. "I love our families, and the roommates we've had have been so entertaining, but it's nice to just be a couple and be able to mess around outside the bedroom without Rachel yelling about the roommate agreement, and avoid not sleeping together for two weeks for fear of your dad catching us in the act."

"Can we talk?" Kurt knew that tone of voice, when all the laughter and flirting and happiness had to fall away and they had to talk seriously, and he couldn't help the jolt of fear that Blaine had somehow found out he'd slept with Sebastian. Who could've told him? One of the restaurant staff, maybe the cab driver had been one they'd had before, or Mike could've seen him, him and Tina lived close to that restaurant and the first trimester of Tina's second pregnancy had brought odd cravings at all hours of the night.

Blaine nudged him upright and reached for his hands, giving him a reassuring smile. "Kurt, it's okay, you don't need to look so terrified," he said with a chuckle, and Kurt gave him a wan smile, heart pounding with nerves. "Okay, Cooper invited me to spend the New Year in LA with him, but we can't afford two tickets if we want to get that apartment soon. He's offered to try and get his agent looking for work for me, or put out feelers for a New York-based agency, so I thought I could go over there for a few days, a week and a half at the most, to see if anything out there might be good for me. I mean, I have the ex-husband part, and the run of Hairspray starting after that, so I'm not starved for work, it would just be nice to go looking for opportunities."

"So, you'd be gone for a week?" Kurt asked carefully, trying to keep his voice level and not betray how upset such things made him. He had another appointment on the fifth of January, and he was determined to get Blaine along with him this time before shooting and rehearsing dragged him away. In seven years of marriage, they had hardly spent a night away from each other, both knowing they didn't cope well with separation and distance between them. Not that Kurt was afraid Blaine might cheat on him again. He was afraid he might cheat on Blaine. "But you promised you would come to the clinic with me, since you'll be busy with rehearsing and shooting afterwards. If you're going for a week, you won't be back for the fifth."

"Kurt, I'm sorry, I know you want me there, but the shooting won't take up too much of my time and I can come with you another time, and I just know that'll be the day we find out we're having a baby," Blaine said, kissing the tip of Kurt's nose and smiling sweetly. "So is it okay for me to spend a little time in LA looking for work? I'll keep my phone on all the time and you can call any time you miss me, even if it's four in the morning and all you want to do is cry."

Inhaling sharply, Kurt pinned a smile on his face and said, "Absolutely, it's fine. I'll stay and watch the house and see if Rachel or Santana wants to pop over on New Year's Eve." The pleased, proud look in Blaine's eyes was worth the prickling guilt of lying as Kurt let Blaine's arms wind around him and pull him into a soft kiss before they lay down, bodies pressed close, and watched the film, the Christmas tree flashing and twinkling in the corner.

Saying goodbye to Blaine on New Year's Eve, after a glorious Christmas, spending the morning in bed beneath the curious gaze of a watery winter sun and rising to open presents and cook together, Kurt meant to keep his dignity intact and not cling or cry. But, clutching at Blaine's hand in the waiting room, watching the departures and arrivals flickering over the boards overhead, Kurt couldn't help the tears that sprang to his eyes when Blaine leaned in to kiss him sweetly. "I'll miss you," he murmured, words choked with emotion, and Blaine gave him a melancholy smile, sliding the tip of his nose along the length of Kurt's, their breath mingling in the air between them.

"It's not for long, I'll call you every day, and Skype you if the niece and nephew aren't using the computer," Blaine promised, kissing Kurt again. "I'll be back on the seventh and we'll have a week to enjoy before we're both back to work." The intercom rang out with the call for the flight to Los Angeles, and Blaine stood up, eyes glistening with tears, and wrapped his arms tightly around Kurt. For a moment they stood, swaying slightly, clinging to each other, then Blaine broke away and walked towards the boarding ramp, turning to wave as the crush of people swept him along and he disappeared from Kurt's sight.

The apartment was empty without Blaine there, without someone to tuck a blanket around Kurt's shoulders and ply him with hot chocolate and toasted marshmallows, with no one kissing his cheek and neck and shoulder, that sweet sound of Blaine sliding to the floor to part Kurt's legs and kiss his way up the insides of his thighs a mere wistful echo. Kurt had never felt lonelier than he did when the silence greeted him, pressing in on his ears and drumming through him. Even the glow of the Christmas tree couldn't distract him from his gloom.

After three lonely days, only seeing Blaine's face through a computer screen and hearing his voice through the phone, New Year's Eve found Kurt hunched in the armchair, blanket thrown over him, listening to the bangs and whoops of people already starting firework displays to ring in the new year. Blaine had called earlier to say he was going with Cooper's family to a local fireworks display and wouldn't be able to call Kurt at midnight like they'd planned, leaving Kurt feeling empty and sparing frequent glances for his phone, lying innocently on the coffee table.

Finally, after a hundred fleeting looks, telling himself sternly not to call, he reached for his phone and dialled the number he was yet to call, guilt and excitement in equal measure shooting through him as he waited for Sebastian to pick up. "Well, well, well, Mr. Hummel-Anderson, I wasn't expecting to hear from you," came Sebastian's silken voice, and Kurt rolled his eyes upon hearing the smirk in his tone. "I would've thought you'd be in Times Square with your husband, waiting for the ball to drop so you can kiss him."

"Blaine's in LA visiting his brother," Kurt said stiffly, pinching at his thigh as he squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and asked, "Do you want to come over?" in a rush. When Sebastian didn't answer, he continued, "Blaine won't be back until the seventh and all my friends are tied up in their own celebration, there would be no reason for anyone to catch us. I...just don't want to spend New Year's alone."

"Babe, the pleasure would be all mine," Sebastian drawled, and Kurt couldn't help the smile that crossed his face as he tugged at one end of the drawstring on his hoodie. "Do you need me to bring anything?"

"You'll need to bring condoms, I don't have any," Kurt said, just picturing Sebastian's smirking face on the other end of the line. "And maybe bring some champagne? I think I drank the last bottle of wine we had here the night Blaine left."

"Give me twenty minutes, and I'll be over," Sebastian assured him gently. "Put a robe on for me, gorgeous. Run a bath, wait for me, and I'll finally cross fucking someone at midnight on New Year's off my bucket list."

Kurt was shocked by the lewdness of the groan that fell from his lips as he hung up, and he tossed his blanket aside to get ready. Body thrumming with the thrill of anticipation, he brushed his hair up into its usual high coif, moisturised frantically and dropped eye drops into eyes reddened from days of lonely crying. As he slid his arms into a thick robe, tying the cord neatly around his waist, he ran a hand through his hair and wondered why he was trying so hard. He'd never tried to look so good for anyone but Blaine, and suddenly here he was, putting in eye drops and rubbing in moisturiser for someone who wasn't his husband.

Turning on the taps in the bathroom and lighting the candles arranged neatly around the room, half burnt down in their holders, he dabbed cologne on his pulse points and was just finishing lighting a fire when the buzzer rang. Pressing his finger to the button beneath the intercom, he cheerfully said, "This is Kurt Hummel-Anderson, how may I help you?"

"Just let me upstairs, babe," Sebastian said, and Kurt smiled helplessly as he pressed the button to open the door, waiting in a state of high excitement for the knock to come on the door so he could fling it wide open and take in the stunning man on his doorstep, body elongated by a dark fitted suit, a bottle of expensive looking champagne in one hand and a ridiculous bouquet of condoms in the other, that he held out to Kurt. "A far more functional substitute for flowers," he said with a wicked grin, and Kurt yanked him inside with a heavy sigh.

"Bathroom, get in the tub," he ordered, and Sebastian gave him a salute. Kurt could feel his electric gaze running over his own body, and deliberately added an extra sway to his hips as he waltzed into the kitchen to get glasses, carefully pouring out the champagne and joining Sebastian in the bathroom, where his clothes were curled up like slumbering creatures on the floor and his body mostly hidden by bubbles.

Sinking into the warm water opposite him, Kurt handed him a glass and leant back against the side of the tub, smiling at Sebastian over the water and taking a sip of champagne that seemed to go straight to his head. "This is such a romantic novel cliché," Sebastian observed with a raised eyebrow, and Kurt kicked out at him under the water. "The handsome man with the steady career has his equally handsome and dashing lover over while the husband is away, and they bathe together and make slow, passionate love in every room."

"Well, I don't know about equally handsome," Kurt teased with a smirk. Shaking his head, Sebastian slid across the tub and plucked the glass from his hand, setting both down on the tiles and leaning in to kiss him, damp fingers sliding into Kurt's perfectly styled hair. "No, no fingers in my hair, I just fixed it to perfection, you'll just mess it up."

"Did you fix your hair for me?" Sebastian asked softly, leaning over Kurt, their chests sliding together through the bubbles and water, curlicues of steam rising around them. "You dressed up for me? Damn, Kurt, I'm so flattered. I can't believe you'd spend all that time on your hair just for me. Not when all I'm going to do is mess it up."

Sebastian's mouth covered Kurt's, his body weighing along Kurt's, pressing him down into the water. Kurt went with him gladly, opening his mouth when Sebastian's tongue swept across his lips, asking for entrance, winding his arms around Sebastian's neck and trusting him not to let them slip beneath the water. Once again his body thrummed with excitement, feeling as if he was floating free, his ropes cut from the dock and Sebastian's arms welcoming him in. He pulled away with a lazy smile, eyes heavily-lidded with lust, and stretched his arms above his head with a sigh. "You could never fuck me in every room," he said, his eyes settling on Sebastian's, a clear challenge.

"Want a bet?" Sebastian dared, and leaned down again, moving away from Kurt's mouth and down his neck, laying soft kisses into the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. Slipping his hand beneath the water, he slid off the two gold bands warmed by Kurt's skin and reached up to place them out of reach of the water, then stroked two fingers down his crack.

"Not in here," Kurt said abruptly, sitting up and letting Sebastian slide away. He didn't want to mention how this seemed a centrestone of his and Blaine's relationship, where Blaine would slide his arms around Kurt's waist from behind and kiss his neck while he brushed his teeth, chin hooked over Kurt's shoulder as they gazed at their reflections in the mirror over the sink; where they lay in hot scented water in each other's arms, kissing slow and languorous and arguing playfully about what adhesive stickers to get for when their child would be in the bath alone and liable to slip; or in the past when illicit showers had been the only way to find any privacy, making love and swallowing each other's moans until the water ran cold and fists were beating the door down for access. "Living room, I'll light a fire and we can dry off there and maybe watch the fireworks."

"Babe, I think we'll be far too absorbed in making fireworks of our own," Sebastian said with a wink, and Kurt rolled his eyes long-sufferingly at the line, climbing out of the bath and wrapping his towelling robe around him, thrusting a towel at Sebastian before he could reach for Blaine's royal blue robe, hanging on the back of the door, rubbing shoulders with Kurt's emerald green one. Maybe it was stupid, to think so when he had knowingly invited Sebastian over for sex, but he didn't want Sebastian in Blaine's clothes, in Blaine's place, lying on Blaine's side of the bed. Sebastian would never replace Blaine.

Kneeling down to light a fire, Kurt stiffened when Sebastian crowded in behind him, pushing the halves of his robe open beneath the tightly knotted cord and sliding his hands up Kurt's damp thighs. "You're stunning," he murmured, tongue flickering expertly along the shell of Kurt's ear. Watching the flame steal through the logs, charring them so the bark flaked away to expose vulnerabilities, Kurt pushing Sebastian's hands away and turned around to kiss him, pushing him down onto the rug and tugging at the cord of his robe, the two pieces untangling from each other as Sebastian smirked at him and flipped him onto his back, the towel wrapped around Sebastian's hips hanging loose as Kurt reached for the bottle of lube sitting beside the fireplace. "Obviously someone with an active sex life," Sebastian teased softly and Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the half-full bottles in Sebastian's hand and spreading his legs, pulling his arms out of the robe and presenting himself to the man leaning on his elbows and perfectly still above him.

"It's twenty to twelve," he mocked Sebastian, rolling his eyes pointedly at the clock ticking away on the mantelpiece. "If you want to cross fucking someone at midnight from the no doubt ridiculous bucket list you keep, you better get started." Sebastian smirked at him, looking almost dangerous in the moonlight with his eyes darkened by lust, and traced his slicked-up fingers in leisurely circles around Kurt's hole, mercilessly teasing until Kurt was almost chewing through his lip to hold back desperate cries.

Sebastian's lips and free hand were everywhere, seeking out all of Kurt's most sensitive spots, places only Blaine had ever discovered, the delicate patches of skin and flesh and bone a little secret exchanged in sleepy, lust-filled glances across crowded rooms. Kurt was ashamed of how desperately he moaned for more, body writhing beneath the steady hold of Sebastian's hips locked down to his, all thoughts and regrets of Blaine wiped from a mind reeling with lust. Sebastian's hands were steady and sure as he pulled Kurt closed by the hips and sank slowly into him, the condom between them barely deadening the glorious sensation, so wonderful Kurt almost threw back his head and screamed before he remembered where he was.

"Gorgeous," Sebastian murmured, gazing at Kurt with half-lidded eyes, tracing his thumb around Kurt's lips, swollen with kissing and slack around ever-hitching moans. "I should've tried to seduce you in high school. God knows I'd have had more success with you than with Bl-" Kurt silenced him by smashing their mouths together, sucking greedily on his tongue, hot guilt pricking uncomfortably over his skin like an itch at the very mention of Blaine. Not like this, not when he lay in their house tangled with another man on New Year's Eve, when for eleven years he'd spent every night lit by spiralling fireworks with Blaine, sharing a blanket and wine and kisses.

When Kurt demanded hot and fast and frenzied from Sebastian, he was given it, Sebastian thrusting into him so hard his body slid along the rug with every movement, until the rug was bunched up beneath their bodies and Kurt was pulling kisses from Sebastian's lips to keep his screams quieted. It hadn't been like this with Blaine for a long time, this frenzied rolling and twisting of bodies, not when they had all the time in the world and an apartment of their own, when they could take their time without fear of interruption. Sebastian wasn't Blaine, never could be Blaine, but he was an amazing lover, kissing and licking every inch of Kurt's neck and shoulders and collarbone as the minutes ticked by.

Midnight finally struck and the first firework cartwheeled into the sky, heralding the New Year. As the sparks dyed the moonlight gold and red, similar fireworks exploded behind Kurt's eyes as he came with a muffled yell, streaking his own stomach with come. Cradling Kurt's head in one hand while using the other to prop himself up, Sebastian carried on thrusting as Kurt lay limply back, hazily watching the fireworks through a window, until Sebastian came and pulled out almost immediately, weaving towards the bathroom.

BastardKurt thought as he sat up. He hadn't even thought of cleaning Kurt up or staying with him a while, prolonging the afterglow. Blaine always got up first to find a damp flannel, and he would stay with Kurt as long as possible, kissing his hair and face and murmuring praise. Wincing, Kurt clambered laboriously to his feet and padded into the kitchen, cleaning himself up with pieces of tissue and scooping up his robe, sliding it tight around him.

"I should go," Sebastian said as he returned from the bathroom, smelling of Kurt's own shower gel with his hair slicked to his head. Kurt barely spared him a glance. Even the way he held himself was cocky and self-assured, so confident that any passing man or woman would find him attractive, dream about being taken to bed by him. "You've given me my best celebration in years. I always begin the new year as I mean to go on." Winking, he picked up Kurt's hand and brushed a kiss against his knuckles. "If you're lonely again, don't hesitate to call me."

In fact, Kurt resolutely refused to call Sebastian again in the week before Blaine's return. No doubt feeling guilty for abandoning him on New Year's Eve, Santana arrived two days later with a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses and a mountain of wedding magazines, asking Kurt's opinion on everything and daring him to drink until they were both drunk out of their minds, and Santana had to crash on the couch before she went home, and Kurt sent drunken misspelled adoration to Blaine. They awoke the next day with debilitating hangovers, and Kurt almost threw his phone against the wall when it rang mid-morning, splitting his aching head open. But it was only Blaine, hoping he was looking after himself properly after drinking so much and assuring him the slurred voicemail he barely remembered leaving hadn't be at all embarrassing.

On the fifth, Kurt had his doctor's appointment. This time he hadn't allowed his hopes to rise, absolutely ruthless with his own expectations, and was prepared when the doctor told there still wasn't a prayer of him starting hormone therapy, keeping himself together while he stood in a swirling snowstorm just outside the clinic, listening gratefully to Blaine reassuring him that it wasn't his fault, that they would have a baby soon, and noting the reminder of when Blaine's flight was getting in so he could meet him straight from the airport.

Waiting for Blaine to arrive, holding up a sign withBLAINE HUMMEL-ANDERSONwritten in block capitals across it, Kurt looked at the other people waiting for loved ones, and their ecstatic smiles when people poured into the arrivals lounge. Mistily watching a man with grey-streaked hair hugging an adorable little girl, their smiles identical, Kurt didn't realise who was heading towards him before a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, almost knocking him over when he jumped. "Blaine Hummel-Anderson, reporting for duty," Blaine said, laughing at Kurt's shocked expression, and Kurt laughed and hugged him.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, fingers sinking into Blaine's hair, pressing himself closer to Blaine's warm body. "I love you." Grinning, Blaine tugged him in for a kiss by the lapels of his coat, and Kurt went willingly, pouring every ounce of love in his body into the point when his lips met Blaine's, suppressing an inappropriate moan as Blaine's hands crept inside his coat.

Only Blaine knew how to do this, to reduce him to jelly in less than thirty seconds, in public, with merely a kiss and his gently caressing hands. Blaine was the one he loved, the one who had given him the rings shining and newly-cleaned on his left hand, the one he would have a baby with. No one else compared.