It had been one of those rare days in March, warm and dry, sun shimmering through the kind of cerulean sky New York rarely saw. They’d spent the day cooped in their apartment, music in the background, windows open, longing to go out. Instead they responsibly worked through various projects, Blaine was studying harder in law school than he had preparing to go to law school, often spending hours in the same position at their little table, fingers cramping over the keyboard of his computer.

As he so often did, Kurt would come around, gathering coffee cups and setting a glass of water down and some sort of healthy snack on the table next to him, chiding Blaine to put something healthy in his body.  Blaine loves these moments, comfortable and cared for, when Kurt nags him away from his studies, taking his hands and massaging his fingers, reminding him absently to eat while telling him amusing stories.

That night, Kurt drags him away from his books, complaining that it’s a Saturday, that they needed a break, away from home,

“We’ve missed all the sunshine, we’re starting to mold in here, come on it’s going to be a beautiful night.” Blaine lets himself be led, standing back and watching Kurt move with purpose around their apartment. Warmth spreads through his chest; Kurt is pulling on dark jeans and debating the weather appropriateness of a shirt he’s been dying to try and Blaine falls in love. It’s been seven years of falling in love over and over again and this time it’s like he’s been hit by a truck, he loves this man so much and he has to turn quickly to hide his tears from Kurt.

In the bathroom he runs the water, leaning over the sink and exhaling long and slow.
Thank God, he thinks.

Two weeks later he’s somehow managed to manipulate Kurt into thinking that he’s coerced Blaine into an open mic night at the café they used to frequent.  They make a night of it, inviting some of Kurt’s friends from his old theater troupe, new associates he’s met at his internship, Jan and even some of Blaine’s law school group. Even Rachel manages to come, happy to find that her day off coincided with their plans.  

Blaine’s plan is simple. He starts with Teenage Dream, pared down on his guitar, winding his way through A Case of You, which never fails to make Kurt blush and smile. The song is a memory, sparking between them, and it is a moment so intimate, made more so by the presence of so many others, people watching and enjoying with no real idea, clueless to the subtext and wanting Blaine’s voice is layering into the air. By the time he gets to Somewhere Only We Know, his heart is pounding harder than he’s ever felt it beating in his life. He thinks of his ring, the ring Kurt now holds, words inscribed in the band, and the terrible force of longing and loving inside his self. He manages to get through, barely, fingers shaking and voice just shy of steady. One look at Kurt and he knows he’s got him; Kurt’s eyes are bright and his smile- he’s smiling that smile, the one that is only for Blaine, unguarded and wide, teeth showing. The kind of smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes his nose scrunch up.

So when Blaine gestures toward Brian, who hops up on stage to take the guitar, he’s not surprised by Kurt’s puzzled frown.

“Hey everyone,” Blaine has to steady his voice, wrapping his hands around the mic stand to hide the trembling. “My friend Brian here is gonna help me out. I have one more song, and it’s really kind of special to me. So, Kurt, baby, it shouldn’t be hard to figure out, but pay attention ok?”  Blaine laughs a little at Kurt’s face, flushed red, and Kurt is covering it with a dismayed hand, pretending embarrassed as people turn to look at them but sort of preening a little. It’s such a Kurt thing, Blaine breathes out a little easier because he knows the answers to every question he has, and they all start and end with loving Kurt.

The song starts quiet; Blaine works to reign in his emotions. He’s pretty sure Kurt hasn’t heard this song before, grateful for the quiet atmosphere of the café, knowing Kurt is hearing each word. He starts to feel his body shaking midway through (I love it when you sing to me, and you, you can sing me anything) and by the time he’s made it to the break, he can feel tears running down his cheeks. So he breathes through the notes, looking back up and into Kurt’s eyes (But I, I love it when you give me things, And you, You ought to give me wedding rings) growing wider and wider and spilling over with tears and by the time he’s gotten to the end of the song he can barely sing, can hardly see Kurt through his tears and trembling and Kurt is in his arms, pressed up hard against him, bodies shaking together.

And they don’t care, they don’t hear the whistles and cheers from the patrons, lost together, lips and fingers and breathing into each other. When Blaine pulls out the ring, carefully stowed in his pocket, the noise around them breaks through and he looks up, stunned and happy. With a laugh, he pulls Kurt closer, leaning into the mic.

“I know I said he ought to give me wedding rings, but…” He lets his voice trail off, question unspoken, turning to Kurt with his ring in hand and Kurt is laughing and crying and pulling Blaine’s ring out of his pocket. They kiss once more, sweet and close and Kurt whispers in his ear,

“I’ve been keeping it on me. Waiting.”  And when Blaine hugs him close, too close, its hard and hurts and that’s ok because they’re in this together now. He thinks of all the lines they had to cross, all the ways they’ve managed to tie each other in knots and make a mess of things. The painstaking work, taking it all apart, putting it back together again. These rings, their hearts, and all the ways he wants to bind his life with Kurt’s, all the ties holding them together- rarely simple, but lasting.