It’s dark in their room, the air close and still. Kurt has been sitting in the darkened living room for over an hour, thinking and planning and finding the courage to do this. It takes him a minute to adjust to the lack of light, to find the shadow shape on the bed. Blaine is on his side, facing Kurt in the bed they’ve shared every trip home for years now. They don’t speak, simply taking minutes to adjust and acknowledge and wait.

He moves simply, crawling onto the bed until he’s next to Blaine, the barest space between them, his head on the pillow next to Blaine’s. It’s dark, but not so dark they can’t see- the full moon is flooding through his window,  and Blaine is backlit in the glow, his face a study of heartbreak that pulls at Kurt until it hurts, the not touching they’re doing.  He knows, deep down and vicious, that no force on earth will get him to leave this bed without Blaine, without the love and family that they make.

“You left me. You left me so alone.” It’s a whisper, and Kurt can hear the tears. He’s closing is eyes, then opening them. His hand is fisted, so tight, under the pillow- he can feel the crescent marks of his nails digging into his skin.

“I know. I’m so sorry. I promise, it wasn’t on purpose.” He moves imperceptibly closer, pulled; it’s a feeling he cannot name but knows. Because it’s always been Blaine for him, he’s been a force in Kurt’s life from the moment he met him on that staircase in Dalton. He’s helpless to it, helpless to the tidal waves of love and lust and affection and heart-rendering need. 

“I was so selfish. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to call you, or that I forgot you, or that I didn’t think you needed to know and be there. I just couldn’t think of anything else. I didn’t see anything else. I was so scared.” When Kurt’s voice breaks, he stops.

“You’re my family. All of you. I thought you felt the same way.” Blaine sounds almost like a child, tiny and broken and ashamed of the naked need.

“I do.” Fervent, he doesn’t stop himself, putting his free hand on Blaine’s hip, squeezing hard. “You are. We all know it, we all feel it.”

“Don’t do it again. Please Kurt, please don’t do that ever again.” He’s whispering into Kurt’s mouth, his lips just barely ghosting against his.

“No, no baby I won’t. I’m not leaving, not leaving you ever again.” And then he’s kissing him earnestly, all need and teeth and terrible hurting.  And Kurt wants to touch him, make promises and apologies, but he can’t yet.

“Wait, Blaine, wait. I have something-“  he breaks away, ignoring the whimper and Blaine’s clutching hands. When Kurt pulls away, he tries to look into Blaine’s eyes, but even in the moonlit dark, he can’t see what he needs to see, so he turns and flicks on the small bedside light.  Once he’s back, forehead to forehead, he pulls his hand out from under the pillow, opening it slowly.

“I bought these last Christmas with Finn. He was so excited…he kept babbling about having a new brother. I was going to give them to you for our anniversary.” In the low light, the rings gleam, nestled in Kurt’s hand, the fulfillment of so many promises given and made over these years. But Blaine isn’t speaking, and Kurt is barreling into the silence, all nerves and uncertainty. “I know we’re young, and it doesn’t have to happen for a while if you want to wait, but I want you to know, I’ve known. I’ve known you are my family, that I want you to be my family in every way, whenever you’ll let me. And when I told my dad, he cried. He cried Blaine, and said he never imagined he’d have so many children to love.” And now Kurt is crying, just a little, and Blaine is covering his hand with his, shaking and laughing,

“Yes, yes, yes!” the words are punctuated with kisses, and before he can get a breath, Blaine’s putting a ring on his finger and Kurt has to pause, to let this sink in, before he’s taking his best friend's, his lover's and future husband's hand, sealing the moment with so many spoken and unspoken words. Their fingers are tangled, awkward but so lovely, and they are too, arms and legs and bodies pressed in love and desperate need.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I love you so much. And now you’re mine and we can be a real family, the family you always wanted. We’ll get a new apartment one day and that dog you want so much and have babies and-” He’s whispering, breathing his longing and apology into Blaine’s skin, into the smooth curve of muscle between his ear and shoulder, and for a moment, they just lay, together, hearts and hands and need together.

“Really?” Blaine’s whisper is awe and longing, fierce and happy, “You want all that?”

“Yes, Blaine. Yes, with you. And we’ll love them so much, give them all the love and acceptance that we always wanted, you can love them in all the ways you wanted your dad to love you, and we’ll make a new family, our own family.  I want to show you every day, how much I love you, how sorry I am for hurting you, for hurting this.”  And Kurt is really crying now, tears dripping onto Blaine’s face.

“I love you so much, god so much.” Blaine’s hands are framing his face, wiping at tears; they are looking at each other, into each other.  Together, they fold into their happiness, weighing the shape and weight of just how much they have, how much love they make, how much more they can and will in the lifetime they are promising each other.