The building block is exactly how Blaine remembers it. Large and tall, rather normal and boring looking-just like any other New York city office tower.

The lobby is wide and grand looking as Blaine strolls through, with people in suits carrying briefcases hurrying around trying not to bump into one another. There are serious looking security guards standing by the entrance doors and harried secretaries sat behind the front desks.

The only difference now is there's a prim looking Christmas tree sat over in the corner by the row of elevators, dressed in bright magnolia lights and little red and gold hanging decorations. There are crisp bright blue and sparkling silver streamers hanging from corner to corner with a huge glittery star suspended from the center of the ceiling.

Also it's freezing. A typical winter, one week before Christmas type of freezing. Not like the last time when Blaine was here, in April, two, almost three years ago.

Blaine remembers the weather being dry and warm back then, the sunlight pouring through the upstairs office windows, spreading over the flooring and furniture.

He'll never forget it, the way that the golden rays caught Kurt's reflection perfectly, the tips of his carefully styled hair and the slope of his nose. The twinkling of those eyes and the way he tried to hide that little smirk. The smirk that was Blaine's undoing, among other things.

That day had etched a permanent picture behind Blaine's eyes and in his head. A picture as beautiful and priceless as a family heirloom or an old famous piece of artwork. To Blaine, Kurt is the very embodiment of what art is supposed to mean and be worth. To Blaine, Kurt is a timeless beauty, a unique work of nature, persistent, relentless and consuming in all the best of worst ways.

Blaine joins the small crowd of people waiting for the elevators to reach the ground floor and carry them all back up, and for whatever reason his stomach flips, like it too is travelling back in time with him. Remembering those thoughts and feelings, those images, understanding and appreciating the fact that Blaine is still able to keep them close to him, he can relive them and renew them day by day. 

Blaine hums quietly along to the holiday themed elevator music as he travels upwards, keeping those first interview feelings at bay, trying to swap them with the memories that have been made ever since.

That had been such a huge day for him. The last time he'd rode up in this elevator, he'd felt sick to his stomach, worried that whatever decision he was unknowingly about to make would change his life- and not in the good way.

Thankfully he had been wrong, oh so wrong. His life had been changed in the best ways, and he'd been right to feel nauseous and terrified but for the wrong reasons. It's like one of those premonitions when you know something is about to happen, about to change, but you just don't know how or why or which way, or know of any way to stop it.

Blaine had been lost the last time he had ridden up in this elevator, lost and unsure, needing and searching for something, anything to give him back hope, his well being, his whole life. And he'd found it, he'd found it in a freshly painted strange little office, with a lady with a kind a face and man who's face and who's words had changed Blaine's life. Forever.

The elevator stops at his floor and Blaine exits, stepping out into the small vacant lobby and walking over towards the door which leads to the little holding area that Blaine had been sitting in with a clipboard like a little, lost soul, ticking and filling in the empty blank boxes of his life.

Blaine has every right to feel those butterflies dance around his stomach with warm and welcome anticipation, the last time he was here, his life had resumed from its ongoing game of pause, and now it's still going, strong and lively, fun and filled with enough adventure as ever.

And also, now it will have a double dose of his loveable brother Cooper.      

Blaine breathes deeply through small nervous private smiles as he approaches the door, taking in the sights of potted plants and small plastic trash cans scattered about, with small hanging paintings of sunsets and golden fields of corn.

God, where has two years and eight months got to? How time flies indeed.

Blaine and Kurt had arranged to meet for Cooper's interview separately. Blaine had some stuff he had to finish up regarding both his new up and coming production company- with the prospects of a new fancy label- and of course Kurt's business.

Blaine still isn't exactly sure why they have to do all of this, this whole charade with Cooper. Yeah he gets it, that the world will talk once Cooper Anderson- Blaine's mouthy elder brother and part time model/actor- is suddenly employed within the business.

But honestly? Screw the world, they've spent enough time learning how to overlook and forget what the critics say, that this is just child's play to them now. They have their reasons, they are appropriate and understood to those who matter and that is what's important.

Secretly Blaine is a little relieved that a large portion of his work load will be passed on to someone else to worry about, he's still not sure how he feels about that someone being his brother, but he understands Kurt's reasons for it all the same.

Kurt needs to be surrounded by people he cares for and who cares for him back, it's a vital part of his work ethic, his energy, its how he stays sane and keeps the most spectacular of diva strops at bay. It's how he keeps grounded, with the help of Blaine of course.

It's how and why Blaine fell for him so hard, because no matter how much they tried to deny their feelings, Blaine couldn't keep away, and Kurt wouldn't let him. 

It's not as if they hadn't talked the topic to death and back with each other before even proposing the idea to Cooper at all. They may be hasty (or sometimes maybe not) but they are also smart.

They'd talked over every pro and con, every possible occurring setback, how the media will feed from it, how it may effect any future potential business arrangements. And they still can't come up with a good enough justification as to why Cooper can't or won't do the role any justice.

On paper, Blaine was not the best of applicants to hire as Kurt's PA, but that didn't stop his application from hitting Carole's inbox, grabbing her attention and front runner-ing him over to Kurt.

Something's are just meant to be.

Blaine is a little a sad, honestly, it is kind of like the end of an era, but he's not leaving, he's not. He's not leaving Kurt nor the business, he just won't be around as much that's all, but primarily his main duties within the business will all be still revolved around Kurt.

Kurt is his main source of concern, always has been from pretty early days, and now always will be, no matter what or where his life lead may lead him.

Blaine glances at his watch and turns the door knob. He's early and there's no need to knock, he may even have beaten Kurt here, maybe they'll have time work up a little heated steam that they can blow off whilst terrorizing his brother. Oh yes, butterflies or not, Blaine is looking forward to this very, very much.

Unsurprisingly the scent of paint has settled and dried and has been replaced by the waft of industrial jasmine carpet cleaner. The furniture of the little waiting room is all still the same, not even worn looking, the walls are still bright and the same plastic plant is sitting leaning up against the far corner, with probably out of date magazines splayed out on the adjacent coffee table.

Blaine chuckles a little to himself, for no reason other than feeling contentedness seep into him and ease his not so troubled mind. He's about to sit down in the same spot he had been sitting that very first time when he hears a throat clearing in the next room.

And then an unmistakable, unforgettable voice, “Blaine, honey? Is that you?”

*

The office is bright and warm, even with the outside winter chill cooling the streets and spreading through the dull gray sky. Everything looks much the same as Blaine remembers it, the bookshelf, the plant pots and decorative touches.

There are still picture-paintings hanging on blank spots of the warmly painted walls, and when Blaine squints and looks a little harder he can just make out a few choice small framed photographs pinned sporadically between them.

They're photos of him and Kurt. Some taken from Santana's sly hand, some sent via email attachment from Carole. And then there are some that Blaine had managed to snap using the forward facing lens of his phone's camera, when he and Kurt had been happily working together on a bright summer's afternoon, side by side with matching grins.

He'd known that Kurt was officially buying this floor as his own, to use for business related affairs, and as a work space for Cooper and Santana, for anybody that needed it.

Kurt has obviously grown comfortable in the knowledge of sharing snapshots of he and Blaine's life together with those who will enter this premises.

Blaine's heart beats double time.    

The large oak desk is still sitting in the center, only now it's not the main attraction of the room. Blaine's eyes landed on the reason why his breath catches in his throat. Kurt. Kurt is seated on the far side of the desk, facing him, looking at him deep and dark and intently.

It's that look that Kurt had first given him when they'd met for the first time in this room all that time ago. Only now his face is not etched with lines of worry and weariness, now his expression is calm and soft and passive, he looks like the Kurt that Blaine has came to know and love, his Kurt, his very special Kurt.

The second thing for Blaine's brain to click on to is the fact that Kurt is wearing that suit, the very same charcoal gray suit he'd worn for Blaine's own interview. It still fits him impeccably well, tucked and trim in the best of places, highlighting Blaine's very favourite parts of him.

If Blaine wasn't 110% sure that they were set to meet his brother here today, (his straight brother) then Blaine may have reason to believe that Kurt was trying to dress to impress, and Blaine may have further more reason to feel a little unreasonably jealous.

But this meeting is for Cooper, and god knows that Kurt doesn't need to nor would he want to impress him, quite on the contrary actually. Kurt is dressed for Blaine, and Blaine only.

Of course Blaine can't deny that he didn't think long and hard about choosing his outfit this morning. He's wearing a similar pair of dark slacks and an updated fitted version of the light blue button down that he had worn for his interview. He's also wearing a sleek purpling-blue waistcoat from one of Kurt's collections, and the patchwork bowtie that Kurt had made him for Valentines Day earlier that year.

He's the perfect blend of colour and business mixed with pleasure. As pretty as a picture if he does say so himself, words that he had learned from Kurt's vocabulary of ‘Blaine descriptions'.     

Blaine's heart jumps from inside his chest like little excited bunny hops, he breathes and smiles, blinks his eyes as he closes the door and steps further into the room.

Why is he suddenly feeling like this, like a young boy on a first date, or man waiting to hear his sentence?

He licks his dry lips, swallows past an unexplainable dry lump in his throat and approaches the desk, catching Kurt's eyes and offering him a bright smile in return for the shy toothy one Kurt is giving him.

“Hi sweetheart,” Blaine says, a little roughly.

“Hey there.”

Kurt's cheeks are minutely flushed with colour and Blaine can see the flash of something in his crystal like eyes, it looks the very same something that Blaine feels at this moment.

Blaine wants to place little kisses all over that blush. There's time yet, there will always be time for that.

Why are they both so affected in this way, just by being here? Why does it thrill Blaine that Kurt appears to be flailing in the same way as him? It's just a stupid, preliminary, obligation interview for his bro-

Cooper.

Blaine eyes dart around the room as he slumps down in to the seat set out for him on the opposite side of the desk, and Kurt. He doesn't notice that there's only one chair set out.

Cooper's certainly not folded into any bookshelves or hiding behind an Elm bush plant along the room's perimeter.

“Don't tell me, he didn't show?” Blaine sighs, unable to disguise his disappointment. Kurt smirks, leaning forward in his chair slightly. He doesn't look put out at all, and it's quite unsettling for Blaine to see him act so casually about something he would usually go quite scatty about.

“No, He didn't show,” Kurt starts. Blaine knits his eyebrows together, frowning down at the desk in annoyance. “But then again, he wasn't invited.”

“Huh?” Blaine's eyes lift to Kurt's, the rim of forest green around his iris's catching in the bright glare from the back window's reflection. “Kurt? What-”

Kurt stands, his chair wheeling away behind him as he comes around the desk, placing himself right in front of Blaine and cups his jaw softly, his thumb gently brushing over a pronounced cheekbone down to the slight dark fur above his lip.

Blaine is looking up at him so bewildered and confused that Kurt can't keep back his little chuckle as he slowly sinks to a crouch at Blaine's knees, his hand dropping, gliding down Blaine's chest to settle at his hip.

He watches as Blaine's eyes move down with his movement eagerly, wide and bright, wanting and captivating, just like that first time Blaine had looked at him.

“Can you believe that it's been almost three years since we were last here?” Kurt asks him quietly with a little smirk softening the weight of his words.

Blaine cocks his head to one side, unable to not smirk back as Kurt looks up at him so expectantly, so fondly. He has been with Kurt professionally for nearly three years, and with him intimately for nearly two.

“Yes and no.” Blaine replies. “I find it believable that my employable services are still required after all of this time,” Blaine allows a grin to break free. “We are quite the team after all.”

Kurt smiles with him. “That we are.”

“But I don't believe that as of next week we will have been ‘us' for two years.”

“Oh?” There's no worry to Kurt's tone, he knows that there's nothing to worry about here.

Blaine leans forward and down, folding his arms and resting them on his bended knees, as he comes face to face with Kurt, just a nose brush away.

“I can't believe that you're mine, that you ever allowed yourself-that you allowed me the privilege and the honour to-to-” Blaine shakes his head lightly, blinking his eyes closed and trailing off from that current thought pattern. “I just can't believe that after almost three years, we're still- you're still mine, and I'm- I'm-”

“Mine too.” Kurt finishes for him, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “You honestly didn't think that we'd end up here after all this time?”

Blaine holds himself silently still and looks down at Kurt rather incredulously. It's neither an answer nor is it a sign of ignorance.

“Ok, I know I was a little difficult to deal with in the beginning, rough around the edges and all that, and obviously you probably wouldn't have came to this conclusion,” Kurt continues when Blaine still doesn't speak, “but you saw in me, you felt in me what I wanted you to, what I knew that you could, even before I'd actually realized it myself. You didn't give up on me.”

“God, Kurt, never, I couldn't possibly, even though maybe sometimes I told myself that I should-” Blaine unfolds his arms and wraps them around Kurt's neck, bringing them snug together cheek to cheek.

“You wanna keep doing this with me then?” Kurt whispers, his warm rush of breath tickling against Blaine's unruly curls that are flopping over the shell of his ear. “This dance of goofing off in the office that we're doing together, rumpling the sheets of six star hotels, drafting up emails and eating and drinking, dancing and playing music until we're sick with it, signing papers and walks in the park, movie marathons and meetings with miserable people worried about and wanting my money. Loving each other and actually being able to call it work, all of it, everything. Are you going to- do you want to keep doing it all with me?”

“Kurt,” Blaine breathes into his ear, he pulls back just enough to look into Kurt's eyes, so close that he can see the glassy shards of green breaking up the blue of his iris's. “Loving you is never something that I would call work. And working for you has always been part of the reason why I love you.”

Kurt gasps lightly, “I-I love you too.”

His brain shifts into overdrive as his body takes over automatic control. Blaine's words sink deep into him, slotting themselves into elected little gaps of Kurt's heart and his head and soul, melting and moulding like burning hot steel, forever in place.

He stands pulling Blaine up by the hands and onto the ledge of the desk as he ducks down and sucks open mouthed, wet kisses into the homey dip of Blaine's throat above the collar of his shirt.

“Kurt.” Blaine chokes out, arms and legs flailing as items from the desk slide and fly in all directions by Kurt's hands, as he presses forward with his thighs, pushing Blaine backwards even further up onto the desk.

Blaine groans as Kurt grips him by his thighs, fingers pressing just under the cheeks of his ass and lifts him into perfect position, exactly how he wants, how he needs him. His head falls back on his shoulders, eyes rolling in their sockets back to the wide clear windows behind them.

“Oh god, Kurt, baby, the-the windows.” Blaine croaks out as Kurt's hands fall to his belt buckle, gently easing Blaine's pelvis, hips and stomach down to the desk's surface as his fingers work.

Kurt groans deep and dirty, cheeks flushing with colour, his eyes light up in all different shades of blues and bright greens.

“Oh god,” He growls out, dropping down, continuing to suck at Blaine's flushed skin under his chin. “Yes, say-say that again.”

Blaine grins, caught up by a gasp, just managing to breathe out “Baby, the windows- people can see-”

“From way over here, twenty-three floors up? Hardly.” Kurt laughs softly, as he undoes the buttons of Blaine's waistcoat in lightning speed and pulls his shirt out from the waistline of his pants. “Unless somebody owns a pair of binoculars over in the building across the street.”

Blaine laughs, his hands swiping off Kurt's suit jacket from his arms and shoulders. “Since when did you become so ‘Oh I don't give a shit'?”

Kurt unbuttons his own shirt in between nips and kisses, “Since I have you in my life to remind that I don't need to give a shit, not about anything or one but you. Not anymore.”

They both smile as they kiss, licking in to each other's mouths.

“Make those sounds for me Blaine, those sounds that I love.” Blaine moans, loud and delicious, unable to help it as Kurt rocks against him, fingers working at his bowtie, still standing hovering over the edge of the desk. “That's it sweetheart, that's the one. Just for me, nobody else on this floor to hear you.”

They fumble through the rest of undressing each other, until they're both down to similar pairs of boxer-briefs, straining at the seams and panting ghosting breaths over bare heaving chests and sharp angled stomachs.

Blaine has now managed to slide himself up and off the desk, rubbing himself up against Kurt, thick and hard. They've twisted around so that Kurt is now resting neatly against the edge of the desk with Blaine's arms rubbing up and down his back and around his sides.    

“Mmm, Jesus Kurt, the things I had thought of doing to you, of you doing to me, back on that first day.”

“Tell me,” Kurt pants, hooking his thumbs under the elastic of Blaine's underwear at his hips, “Show me. I just know that it's most likely the very same as I what I had dreamed about doing to you.”

It's like a blur, a rapid whoosh of movement as Kurt finds himself bent over, face first down on to the desk, his underwear pulled down to pool at his feet, and Blaine down on his knees behind him.

There's no preamble, no build up, not for this. Kurt cries out almost soundlessly as Blaine kisses up the crack of his ass, his fingers pulling him apart and his tongue searching and seeking, teasing.

“Fuck- shit, aah Blaine, you-you thought about doing this to me, that first day?”

Blaine makes a low throaty sound of assent as he licks into Kurt's hole, opening him up, wet and hot. The vibration of his lips against Kurt's ass cheeks and fleshy opening make Kurt's knees quiver and buckle beneath him.

He pulls away, nibbling a trail from Kurt's milky soft cheek down to his thigh and groin and back up again. “Among other things, yes.”

Blaine continues teasing him some more, delighting in the way that Kurt rocks back against his tongue, moans in time with his lapping.

“Open up for me Kurt, I can't wait.” Blaine rasps, licking his lips as he sits back and watches with dilated pupils at the sight of Kurt's pucker pink and glossy, hungrily seeking out more.

Kurt raises his hand, sucks two fingers into his mouth and before Blaine can groan out a response of satisfaction, Kurt is reaching back and fingering himself open for Blaine.

There's probably not enough prepping but Kurt can take it. His own knowledgeable fingers and Blaine's skilled tongue are quite sufficient enough. He pulls his fingers out and before Blaine can grab his hips and fold him into position, Kurt reaches across the desk into a drawer, opens up and pulls something small, hard and round out.

“Wait,” He mumbles, “Take this, please.”

Blaine makes a strained groaning sound from behind him and Kurt smirks when the gasp comes next.

“You've came prepared, although for an interview? I'm not so sure.” Blaine says, bending forward to take the silver butt plug from Kurt's fingers, his still clothed hard-on throbs against Kurt's lower back as he moves and Kurt makes a very low, guttural noise in return.

Kurt hands him a small bottle of lubricant next and then settles himself back into position against the desk. “Hurry please, put it in and fuck me, hard. Then I'll return the favour.”  

The process of stripping of his underwear, stretching himself open with slick fingers followed by the cool, slippery feel of the small bullet shaped plug takes a lot less time than what it should.

It doesn't hurt, but there's going to be friction and Blaine will definitely be feeling the after-affects tomorrow, though that's not necessarily a bad thing.

When Blaine finally curls his fingers and warm palms around Kurt's hip bones, bends his knees and slowly starts to push forward and sink into him, Kurt sighs out high and breathy, a mix of relief and pleasure washing over him.

“Oh fuck,” Blaine breathes into Kurt's shoulder blade as he bends over his body, olive dark haired chest to pale, smooth back and pushes in, in, deep and slow until he bottoms out. “Fuck Kurt, love you, so much.”

He presses a circle of kisses to a lean slab of muscle on Kurt's back, whining and cursing as he settles and stills his body, allowing both of them to accommodate the heat and the stretch.

Kurt braces a cheek on the desk, moves his face so that he can just see the outline of Blaine's body behind him. “I love you too Blaine.”

Blaine groans, presses in deep. “I hope to fuck that Cooper doesn't show up.” He breathes, kissing up and down the knobs of Kurt's spine.

Kurt giggles before it turns into a moan as Blaine slowly rotates his hips. “I told you, he's not coming.”

“He never was?”

Kurt shakes his head from side to side as Blaine starts up his thrusts forward in slow, rhythmic patterns. “Nuh-uh. Oh Blaine, there, there-”

“So it was a ploy? You used my brother to lure me into one of your fantasies.” Blaine murmurs as he slowly pulls back, slipping free from the tight grasp of Kurt's heat until he's almost all of the way out.

“Stop talking about your brother and fuck me like you want to.” Kurt all but cries out, and then Blaine slams forward with a shout, effectively ending the conversation.

It's quick and filthy, fast and dirty, hard pushes and slick pulls to the beat of skin and bones slapping together and a chorus of moans tied with the most juiciest of words.

“Shit Kurt, the plug-” Blaine gasps, “Ugh the plug.” He says again, angling his hips in sporadic movements.

Kurt can feel when Blaine's close, can feel the quiver of his thighs as they press against the backs of his. He can imagine the bullet pressing into Blaine's prostate as he fucks into Kurt with vigour, stimulating him wildly, pleasurable torture from both ends. Kurt encourages it.

“Come Blaine, come.” All it takes after that is a few purposeful clenches of Kurt around Blaine and then Blaine is coming and coming, hips pumping with fervour, smacking against Kurt's backside as he whines and whimpers out Kurt's name.

Kurt only allows him a moment to breathe through the come and down, soften and slip out and then Kurt has him turned around, sprawled across the desk face up, legs spread.

“Yes.” Kurt hisses, hopping up after Blaine and bracing himself on his knees between his bent legs. Slowly and carefully he removes the plug with an extra dribble of lube, hitches Blaine's legs to rest over his shoulders, ankles to ears.

“Yes honey, oh look at you, so ready and waiting, yet so done.” Kurt breathes, slicking himself up with leftover lubricant on his fingers, lining himself up and then pushing in.

Blaine looks so beautiful underneath him like this, dishevelled and fucked open, ready for more, ready for Kurt, always. With the bridge of his nose and the tips of his cheeks dotted a pinkish red, and his dark feathery lashes coming to rest against his skin, Blaine looks like the very embodiment of glorious satiation. Kurt could come just from looking down at him.

After the good fucking that Blaine had given him just moments before, it doesn't actually take long for Kurt to climax. Blaine is tight and hot around him, rolling his eyes and grunting from deep in his chest with each grind and thrust. It's pure bliss, its heaven.

Kurt comes keenly, crying out as his thighs quiver and his hips pummel into Blaine's body until he's finished filling him up. They moan and breathe and wriggle gently together until Kurt pulls himself out from Blaine's body and then flops down on top of him like a starfish.

Blaine's substance from his earlier release is dribbling down Kurt's cheeks and down his thighs and apart from the travel pack of hand wipes that's in the top drawer, he hasn't really thought this through.

To hell with it, he'd do that again ten times over if he could, the whole thing.

“Wow.” Blaine mumbles after some time, smacking his lips together and winking one eye open with a smirk to look at Kurt. He brushes his hands through Kurt's slightly sweaty hairline, the curve of his neck, the sharp lines of his shoulder blades and then down to the soft round globes of his ass with a light squeeze.

“We're lying naked on Cooper's new desk, in his new office.” Blaine laughs.

“We've just had sex on Cooper's new desk, in his new office.” Kurt corrects, sighing blissfully as Blaine's hands start to massage him.

“Ok, so I think I get why you didn't invite Cooper here today.” Kurt giggles. “But it's still on isn't it? The whole Cooper PA thing?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Kurt traces the letters of his own name into the warm, moistened skin of Blaine's back. “There won't be an interview, no need I've decided, but yes this very much is Cooper's desk.”

“And we're still lying naked atop of it.”

They laugh and kiss through the clean up and re-dressing process, using all of Kurt's handy pack of wipes and then fumbling through their pockets to look for handkerchiefs.

Kurt sits down on his seat behind the desk and gestures for Blaine to do the same opposite him.

Blaine grins as he sits, raising an eye brow. “So, really, this is it? You faked Cooper's interview for a little tumble on the tabletop of the place we met? Because you know, you didn't need the charade, I would've done as I'm asked, I'm a good boy.”

Kurt scoffs a laugh. “You are indeed. Though I um, I did have other reasons to get you back here.”

Kurt quiets for a moment, diverting Blaine's gaze no matter how hard the other man tries to catch it. He focuses on his breathing, in and out, deep and long, and then his eyes finally flick back up and land on Blaine.

Orbs like a galaxy sky, shining with depths of hidden truths, meeting with orbs of golden liquid, all wide and open.

Wordlessly Kurt opens up the desk drawer again which for some reason makes Blaine smile.

“What else you got in there, in your box of tricks huh?” he laughs, while leaning in trying to peer around Kurt's hand.

“Are you now going to evaluate me on what we've done here today? Renew my contract based on a scale of 1 to ‘oh my god Blaine' ”?

If his stomach wasn't currently back flipping all over the place, then Kurt would laugh at his zealous boyfriend and smile at the smug look on his face. 

Instead he takes a deep breath, takes out a very small black leather box from the drawer, and with shaking hands places it gently on the table top in front of Blaine.

Blaine's jaw drops, his gasp audible and his eyes as round and bright and wet as something from a lovable cartoon. He stares at the little black box under his nose. Kurt clears his throat.

“Um, this is your new contract, if you like.” Kurt says, his voice small and so quiet as he looks down at the box and then back up to Blaine with fleeting glances.

Kurt clears his throat once more and when he tries to speak again his voice almost breaks and turns hoarse. Blaine bites his lip, sniffles and lifts a hand to his mouth when Kurt uses one finger and his thumb to open up the box.

The gleaming beam of Blaine's pearly white smiles when he drops his hand almost reflects the impressive sparkle coming off of the tiny object inside of the box.

Through quivering, smiling lips and shining eyes that are mirroring the facial reactions of Blaine, he covers Blaine's left hand with his right, brushing a thumb over his second last finger.

“A-and this one's until forever, if-if you say yes.”