The reception was simple, held in the Dalton ballroom, with their close friends and family in attendance. The theme, per Blaine's request, was Disney, and it worked beautifully. The New Directions and the Warblers took turns serenading the night with old classics, including the newlyweds' first dance, "You'll Be in My Heart," sung by Blaine's best man, Cooper. Finn and Mercedes, with both singing groups as back-up, announced dinner with a rousing rendition of "Be Our Guest" that had everyone in stitches. The Hudson-Hummels and Blaine danced in varying combinations to "Two Worlds," and Burt would swear to his grave that there were not tears in his eyes.

Photos were taken, kisses were shared, jokes were told, memories were swapped, tears were shed. Everyone danced with everyone, and few turned down a turn at the microphone. Blaine broke the Disney theme and gave a beautiful performance of "Teenage Dream" that did not fail to reduce Kurt to sobs. Kurt then retaliated with an especially heart-wrenching solo of "Blackbird," after which Blaine had to retreat to the bathroom for several minutes, only to return to give his new husband a teary-eyed kiss. The two sang a lovely duet of "A Whole New World" that brought a hush over the gathering.

Sometime during the evening, while Rachel sang "Someday My Prince Will Come," the newlyweds slow-danced in the center of the ballroom, the entire world falling away. Blaine's head fell against Kurt's chest, and Kurt's forehead rested against Blaine's gelled curls.

"We're married," Kurt whispered in awe.

Blaine's eyes flickered upward with a half-amused, half-disbelieving smile. "That we are. Took us long enough."

Kurt chuckled softly. "We're husbands."

"You keep talking like that and it's making me think you're starting to regret it," Blaine murmured wryly, earning himself a nudge from Kurt's arm around his waist.

"Shut up. You know I'd never regret this in a thousand years. I just can't believe it. It's been nearly eight years, and yet here we are. Just as in love as the day we met." He paused for a moment. "Well, I'm just as in love with you as the day I met you. Can't say the same for you, though..."

Blaine's head whipped back in surprise. "Oh no you don't mister."

"Kidding! Kidding." Kurt sighed. "I love you, Mr. Anderson-Hummel."

"I love you too, Mr. Anderson-Hummel." He pressed a heavy kiss to his slightly taller husband's lips, and a camera flash went off.

The reception dwindled to an end sometime around six, as the wedding took place early in the day. The grooms said their goodbyes, Blaine announcing with a wink that the two were off to an undisclosed honeymoon location, much to his new husband's disgruntlement. "I don't understand why you can't just tell me..." was the last thing the guests heard as Blaine dragged the older man from the microphone with a murmured promise of, "You're going to love it."

The drive to the airport in Columbus took very little time, and they boarded a plane to Atlanta. Kurt figured out quickly that Atlanta was just a layover, but Blaine refused to tell him where the second flight would land them. Both slept soundly on the plane. When they awoke and exited, Blaine quickly affixed a blindfold around Kurt's eyes and stuck headphones in his ears, whispering that he'd take them off once they were in the air again. They made their flight, and within a few minutes, Kurt was allowed to see and hear. He wanted to be angry, but the exited puppy-dog eyes his husband unleashed broke his resolve quickly. They cuddled together in their first-class seats. This flight was longer than the first one, but in time, Blaine was cutting off Kurt's senses of sight and hearing once more. Kurt was herded off the plane to baggage claim, where Blaine secured their bags, and then to the car rental stand, where Blaine retrieved the keys to the convertible he'd rented for the week and a half they were there. Kurt complained the entire car trip to their final destination, but Blaine just squeezed his hand in apology.

Finally they arrived. Blaine quickly deposited their bags on the front porch and led Kurt slowly to the small cottage. He removed the earbuds first, and a distinct sound filled Kurt's ears. "Is that...an ocean?" A brilliant smile lit up Kurt's face. "Oh Blaine..." With tender fingers, Blaine silently removed the blindfold, and Kurt gasped. In front of him, glowing under the shimmering light of a nearly full moon, stretched the Pacific Ocean, nearly black in the night. The moon bleached the smooth sands white, and the waves roared softly against the rocks at the far end of the beach.

Kurt was speechless. He turned to his husband, jaw dropped. The shorter man in grinned. "Welcome to Malibu."

"But...how...I don't...you...Blaine."

Blaine gently led Kurt onto the steps of the front porch, which faced the ocean and not the street, and sat them both down. "You can thank Cooper for this. A favor from a friend of a friend or something like that. His acting career may not have gone anywhere, but he's got friends out here, so..." He dropped his head slightly. "I wanted to take you to France, somewhere really awesome and fancy, but the tickets were kind of steep, so..." His face turned red. "Hope this is okay."

"Blaine Anderson-Hummel." The man in question turned just in time to have his face grabbed and pulled into an enthusiastic kiss. "Shut up and make love to me."

"O...kay." Blaine stumbled up, pulling Kurt with him. He grabbed their luggage and whisked it quickly into the house, returning for Kurt moments later. He then took the older man by the hands and led him inside, savoring the change on Kurt's face as they stepped out of the moonlight and into the dark cottage. Kurt supposed the place was beautiful, but it was impossible to know for sure with the most beautiful man in his world right there, mere inches away.

Once inside, time slowed to an absolute stand-still as the rest of the world melted away. The husbands held each other, suddenly lost in a turbulent sea of emotion and desire. After an immeasurable time, Kurt took Blaine's hand and led him slowly through the house, never breaking eye contact; he smirked internally as he watched the other man's pupils blow wide and irises grow dark with lust. In mere moments that took hours to pass, the lovers found themselves in the bedroom, a small, cozy space with a king-sized bed, a wide armoire, and a door leading to a comfortable bathroom. The curtains framing the single window were drawn back, and the dazzling light of the silver moon reflected off of the dark waves, throwing the room and the men in it into a world of brilliant beauty.

They simply stood for a while in each other's arms, gazing deeply into the other's eyes. Blaine moved first, his softly calloused fingers nimbly undoing the latch of Kurt's cummerbund. He smiled and bit back a laugh when he pulled of the garment to reveal Kurt's white button-down—those damn layers—and slowly unfastened that, too.

As Blaine moved, Kurt's own hands lowered to Blaine's belt buckle, undoing the clasp and sliding the leather through the loops. Kurt then tugged the hem of Blaine's dress shirt from the waistband of his trousers, unlatching the cummerbund in the process and allowing it to fall to the floor. Then, with an indulgent smile, he unwound Blaine's pink bowtie.

After Blaine helped Kurt shrug off his white shirt—both of their tuxedo jackets had been shed on the plane and were resting with their bags—he paused to admire the effect that the silver moonlight had upon the older man's porcelain skin. He absolutely glowed, his muscles shining and his slender frame casting irresistible shadows upon the hardwood floor. Even after all those years, Blaine had no idea how he'd managed to fall in love with the most beautiful creature on the planet—no, that was easy to understand, for who wouldn't be completely entranced by Kurt's perfection? For Blaine, the real mystery lay in how this flawless being ever fell in love with him.

Blaine's fingertips moved from Kurt's bare shoulders to the buckle of his belt, brushing gently along the outline of every muscle and enjoying the way he elicited goose bumps from the otherwise smooth skin. Trembling slightly with anticipation and emotion, he slipped the belt from the loops. Before he could lower the zipper, however, he dropped his arms to allow Kurt to slip his shirt off his shoulders. In the process, Kurt shuffled much closer, their bare torsos now brushing against one another, Blaine's thin trail of chest hair tickling Kurt's skin. Pressing their foreheads together, they both looked down to finally unfasten each other's pants fully, stepping apart only to remove their legs, their shoes already abandoned at the door.

Now clad solely in boxers, Blaine took Kurt by the hand and sat beside him on the bed. Then, at last, he attached his lips to his husband's.

That kiss was not like any other the men had ever experienced. It was not like Kurt's first kiss, which was hard and scary and full of hatred. It was not like Blaine's first kiss, which was quick and light and full of confusion. It was not like their first kiss as a couple, which was unexpected and sloppy and full of questions. It was not like their first kiss as married men, which was public and short and full of smiles.

That kiss was long, so long that it did not break as they fell backward onto the sheets, or as Kurt moved to straddle Blaine's hips with his knees, or as both grew increasingly hard against each other. That kiss was passionate, so passionate that it did not cool as their lips trailed off of each other onto cheekbones and jaws and clavicles, or as they fumbled with the sheets, or as the weight of the entire day crashed over them in a tidal wave of emotion. That kiss was full of love, so full of love that it did not fade as they grew painfully out of breath, or as they laughed softly against each other at their own exhilaration, or as they carefully shed the final physical barrier between their bodies.

They'd seen each other naked before, of course. Each gave the other his virginity in high school, and since then they were anything but chaste. If they thought about it, they'd had every type of sex imaginable at least once. Despite that, nothing could compare to the feeling, the energy, that surged through their veins as they took in the silver-cast wonder of their bodies for the first time as husbands. They buzzed with a magic that made every inch of the other man a thousand times more stunning than ever before.

Blaine, now hovering over Kurt, removed his lips from the older man's navel to look him in the eyes. "Are you ready, Mr. Anderson-Hummel?" Those were the first words spoken since the couple entered the beach house. Blaine's voice was thick and deep and rough with lust and desire and need.

From below, Kurt nodded. Movements laced with regret, Blaine dragged himself off of the bed to extract the requisite materials from their luggage. "My smallest suitcase," Kurt called out softly. Blaine turned back to him, expression confused. "Go into my smallest suitcase and pull out the black box. Trust me." Blaine did as he was told. When he opened the black box, he snorted; inside were dozens of different types of lube and what had to be a hundred condoms of various flavors. Blaine looked up at Kurt, eyes dancing with laughter and questioning. "A gift from the girls. Bachelor party." Kurt rolled his eyes.

Blaine chose one of the more normal varieties of lube—4-in-1 flavored lubricant? That has to be from Santana.—and returned to the bed. By the time he realigned his body with Kurt's, the taller man's already darkened eyes had nearly blackened, all traces of amusement long gone. Blaine's lips reattached themselves to Kurt's skin. "I love you so." He pressed a kiss to the hollow of Kurt's neck. "Very." Kurt's chin. "Much." Kurt's nose. Then he flipped open the tube and squeezed a liberal amount of its contents onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the lube. "Tell me if it hurts too much," he whispered, making sure Kurt was listening by keeping eye contact as he spoke. They'd discussed their first time as husbands before—who would top, whether to use a condom, if they should try something kinky or stick to the normal stuff—but, as usual, Blaine was doubting himself. "Unless you wanted to top, which is totally fine, I can just—"

Kurt placed his hands on either side of Blaine's face and pulled him down for a kiss. "Baby," he murmured, "you talk too much."

Blaine grinned and nodded. Then he moved his lubed fingers to Kurt's entrance and, slowly, slid one knuckle in. Kurt hissed and Blaine froze. "Love?" The two had abstained from sex for an entire month before this night to ensure that it was as special as possible, so Kurt was extremely tight. Blaine's nervous pulse throbbed so loudly in his ear that he almost didn't hear Kurt's reassuring reply. Encouraged to continue, Blaine pushed the rest of his index finger into his husband, marveling at the tightness and closeness and warmth.

After a surprisingly brief adjustment period, Kurt felt amazing. The sensation of his husband, his lover, his soulmate inside of him, after such a long time, completely overwhelmed his world. He gasped at the utter pleasure that coursed through his veins. The sound caused Blaine to pause again, and Kurt groaned in frustration. Before Blaine could inquire into Kurt's wellbeing, the older man said, "Blaine, you can't keep stopping because I make a noise. If our previous encounters are anything to go by, I'll be making a lot of noise tonight. So please, don't stop. Ever. I love you, and it doesn't hurt, okay?"

Blaine nodded and smiled sheepishly. He knew he was being silly; he'd had sex with Kurt many times before, and only freaked out like this the very first one. It was the weight of having sex as husbands that caused Blaine so much anxiety, though most of it came from excitement. He took Kurt's words to heart and slowly removed his finger, only to press it back in with a second one. Kurt hissed again and clutched at the sheets. Blaine fought the urge to pause and carefully spread his fingers apart. Kurt thrashed beneath him, but Blaine could tell by the way he bit his lip and groaned from the back of his throat that it was out of pleasure, not pain.

Within a few minutes, Blaine added a third finger, and then he bent all three, searching for Kurt's prostate—and when he found it, the taller man let out a garbled scream. Blaine stroked the gland a few times, stimulating the knot of nerves and sending the man below him into an incoherent frenzy. Blaine always loved watching Kurt fall apart because of him; it made him feel worthy and loved.

When Blaine removed his fingers fully, Kurt whimpered both in loss and in anticipation. Blaine squeezed more lube from the bottle and warmed it in his hands. Then he spread it over his aching cock, shivering at the touch and the lingering coldness. Touching himself reminding him that Kurt was still laying there, so he reached over with one hand and stroked Kurt gently, taking great pleasure in the way Kurt's back arched off of the bed and into the touch. Blaine pulled his hand back, smiling at the way Kurt growled in disappointment. "Hold on, love," he whispered, leaning in close to Kurt's ear. "I don't want this to end too soon." He grazed his teeth down Kurt's earlobe as he moved away. Kurt merely bit his lip in ambivalent agreement; he didn't want the night to end ever, but he needed Blaine to touch him now.

And touch him Blaine did. Settling a hand on either side of Kurt's head on the pillows, Blaine hovered over his husband carefully, lining up their bodies as Kurt slipped his legs around Blaine's back. Blaine dipped down to press his lips to Kurt's, which parted open almost instantaneously. Their tongues danced together for a moment, caressing each other lightly.

Then, not breaking the kiss, Blaine pushed into Kurt.

There were no words to describe that moment. Three fingers had not quite adequately prepared Kurt for all of Blaine, but even through the stinging, pure ecstasy swallowed Kurt whole, drowning him in the sole sensation of feeling. Blaine had not expected Kurt to be that tight still, and through the haze of pleasure that clouded his mind, he wrenched his eyes open to make sure that Kurt was alright.

He saw a single tear running down Kurt's pale cheek and stopped moving, buried to the hilt in his husband. He kissed the tear away, and then pressed their faces together, forehead to forehead, nose to nose. "Hey," he breathed. "Are you okay? Are we good?"

Kurt's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at the concerned eyes staring back at him. He removed his hands from where they had tangled into Blaine's curly hair, the gel long gone by this hour, and placed them on Blaine's cheeks once more. "Yes," he whispered back. "We are perfect." He adored the fact that their new status as husbands seemed to have caused Blaine to revert to the same state of nervousness he was in when they made love the very first time.

Not shifting his face from Kurt's, Blaine began to move once more, pulling himself nearly all the way out of Kurt before pushing slowly back in. The two reveled in the smooth friction of the movement as they began to move together, their hips pistoning in sync. Blaine wrapped one hand around Kurt's leaking cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. Kurt moaned wildly, his own hands clawing at Blaine's rippling back and dancing curls. He attached his mouth to Blaine's neck at a spot just below his left ear and sucked on it, causing the younger man's breath to hitch and the steady rhythms of his hips and hand to falter. Kurt left a trail of dark marks from Blaine's ear to his clavicle, smiling in passionate glee as the other man nearly collapsed atop him in unbearable pleasure.

Blaine exacted his revenge, however, by evening out and quickening his movements inside Kurt. His hand left Kurt's rock hard cock, choosing instead to focus his energies on meeting that tiny bundle of nerves in Kurt as often has he could. Kurt's own hands flew up to the pillow in surrender, where Blaine interlaced their shaky fingers and pressed their conjoined fists into the fabric.

And so they progressed, Blaine rocking at an increasingly rough, albeit tender, pace in and out of Kurt, whose back arched off of the sheets and slammed back down. Kurt's lips were desperate to touch every inch of Blaine's thoroughly sweaty skin they could reach, even though his hands remained pinned beside his head. Both men could feel the heat in their bodies rising to the point where spontaneous combustion seemed inevitable. They each felt an incredible pressure behind their navels down their cocks, and they knew exactly what was coming next.

Blaine lifted one hand—Kurt's free one sliding immediately to the small of Kurt's back—and softly, so softly, stroked Kurt's throbbing arousal. Seeing stars, the older man cried out his lover's name as he exploded a fountain of white between the two.

The sight of Kurt losing himself so readily at his touch and the contraction of Kurt's muscles around his own trembling cock sent Blaine over the edge. He gasped Kurt's name as he emptied himself into his husband, collapsing on top of the sweaty, sticky, gorgeous man below him.

The husbands lay together for a while, panting and kissing and moaning and wondering how life could get better than this moment.

Finally, after several eternities, Blaine rolled off of Kurt and onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. He took one of Kurt's hands into his free one and brought the knuckles to his lips, kissing each joint individually. "You, my love, are perfect."

Kurt twisted his head to smile serenely up at Blaine. "I don't know...What you did to me just then? I'm fairly sure you're the perfect one. I don't think you can call anything we've done before this sex in comparison to that."

"I know..." Blaine buried his face into the crook of Kurt's neck as he tried to gather his thoughts. "I know we've done this before. I remember our first time like it was yesterday." He smiled into Kurt's skin. "But now...that feels like ages ago. We actually became a part of each other just now, and...you completely spun my world around, and nothing looks the same anymore." Blaine lifted his head and wiggled his eyebrows in exaggerated seduction. "I wonder how everything will look when you have the chance to be in the position I was just in."

Kurt laughed lightly, trying to ignore the schoolboy blush that still crept up his check whenever Blaine made such comments. "I have no doubt that you do—and I'll be happy to oblige, before this trip is over. But right now, I'd really rather just be here with you."

To Kurt's disappointment, however, Blaine pulled away. "Before we get too snuggly, I suggest we clean up. I have a feeling this—" He gestured to the whiteness that glittered in the moonlight. "—will be uncomfortable to sleep in."

Kurt groaned. Blaine was right, of course, but he couldn't imagine moving for the world. Understanding this, Blaine stood, walked around to Kurt's side of the bed, and lifted the older man gently into his arms. He set his husband on the closed toilet lid and started the shower, pleased with how quickly it warmed. Then he pulled Kurt to his feet and the two stepped in together.

The steam cleared Kurt's post-orgasm haziness, and he really looked at the man before him. His thick, dark curls, already damp with sweat, clung to his face heavily, dripping down into his slowly lightening hazel eyes. Rivulets of water washed the semen from his tangled chest hair. Kurt took erotic pleasure in watching his effusion trail down Blaine's perfect body.

Suddenly looking wasn't enough. Kurt moved closer to Blaine, helping the younger man clean off, even though they'd left their toiletries in the other room. He worked his fingers through the curls, and Blaine's eyes drooped in contentment. Kurt's hands glided over the flawless features of Blaine's face, pausing for a moment at his lips, which parted with a sigh. They then brushed over Blaine's sternum, pectorals, abdomen, rinsing Blaine clean. Kurt attached his mouth to Blaine's, and the two stood there, feeling the blazing warmth of the water surrounding them and the slow movements of Kurt's hands on Blaine's chest and the tiny circles Blaine was rubbing into the small of Kurt's back.

After a long while, the water grew cold, and Kurt bent down to shut it off. He snaked a hand out from behind the glass door and slid two fluffy white towels from the bar on the wall. Handing one to Blaine, he began to dry off his husband, running the cloth over his arms, chest, and legs. He paid special attention to Blaine's hair; those damn curls got to him every single time.

Blaine chuckled softly as Kurt sped through his ministrations. "Beautiful, what's your hurry?" he breathed, pausing Kurt's hands on his stomach.

"I just really want to hold you." Smiling at Kurt's murmured reply, Blaine toweled Kurt off quickly but gently and, taking Kurt's towel from him, deposited the cloths on the floor. Then, keeping both of Kurt's hands in his own, he led the way back into the bedroom, where the two climbed into bed together. He pulled a musty sheet over their bodies. Arms wrapped around Kurt's shoulder, Blaine once more tucked his face into Kurt's neck. Kurt, in turn, locked his wrists behind Blaine's torso and rested his cheek against Blaine's mess of curls.

The husbands lay there for the rest of the night, bodies interwoven as one. Their hearts beat steadily as one. Their breaths came slow as one. Their thoughts melted into nothingness as one. Their lives proceeded into the future as one.

They slept.