She liked to do the soap and shampoo by herself as much as she could, so Kurt sat back and kept a watchful eye on her, his thoughts swirling around the good-bye that had taken place with his dad, Carole, and Finn back in Lima. It hadn’t been a tearful or upsetting event – in fact, it had been quite the opposite. Three weeks ago, Kurt had been fearful that he was going to lose his dad for good, a feeling that he found intensified over the years, something that stayed deep in his gut, ready to cut him when the time came. But when they’d hugged and said good-bye, it was as if Kurt had been vacationing, like Burt had seen him for nothing more than a quick, impromptu stay. Kurt told his dad that he missed him, and Blaine echoed the sentiment, and Burt had hugged them both and assured them he felt the same, but then he was ushering them off towards the car, where Finn was waiting to drive them to the airport, ready to bring them back to their life, the life Burt knew Kurt loved. Burt had leaned into the backseat and kissed his granddaughter goodbye, telling her to send him pictures of camp, and she had grinned back and promised she would, even though she had no idea how to do that. Blaine had winked at her and said he’d make sure Pop-Pop got the pictures.

And now they were home.

Elizabeth finished her bath and Kurt helped her dry off, then slipped her into her nightgown and quickly blow-dried her hair. The heat from the dryer made her eyelids droop, and before they’d even brushed her teeth, she was blinking heavily and asking to go to bed.

The tinkering in the living room had long since stopped, and Kurt could hear Blaine puttering around in the kitchen, filling the dishwasher. Kurt scooped Lizzie up and tucked her into bed, singing softly under his breath until she was totally out, then kissing her forehead and pulling her door halfway closed behind him as he left. He went back out to the kitchen.

Blaine was just closing the door to the dishwasher. He smiled at Kurt as he hit a couple buttons to start the wash cycle, then leaned back against the counter as Kurt stopped in front of him.

“She go down okay?”

Kurt nodded, then moved forward to slip his arms around Blaine’s waist. Blaine pulled him close, their noses touching, lips centimeters apart. Kurt hummed contentedly and smiled as Blaine cradled his face with his warm hands, thumbs brushing lightly over Kurt’s cheeks.

“I love you,” Kurt breathed, and Blaine breathed it back, soft and wonderful, slipping his arms to Kurt’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “I know I say that a lot,” Kurt continued, “because I say it in place of things that I don’t tell you.”

Blaine pulled back slightly so he could focus on Kurt’s face. “What do you mean?”

Kurt’s gaze dropped from Blaine’s. “You’ve taken care of me every minute of every day for the last three weeks,” he said with subtle admiration, looking back up and locking eyes with Blaine. “You are the most wonderful husband, and such an amazing father. I don’t know how I got to be so lucky, in finding you. I’m the luckiest guy I know.”

Blaine tugged him closer, one side of his mouth lifted in a loving smile. “Now, that’s not true,” he said softly, “because I’m the luckiest guy you know. I have you.”

Kurt smiled and bashfully bit his lip, bringing his hands up to Blaine’s face, running his fingers over Blaine’s forehead, his nose, and his beautiful lips before Blaine gently shifted them closer to seal their mouths in a warm kiss.

Their lips moved luxuriously together, open-mouthed, tongues darting in and out of each kiss, drawing them out as long as possible as their lips met languidly in the middle. Kurt’s hands tangled into the back of Blaine’s hair as Blaine locked his arms around Kurt’s waist. In this position, their actions quickly snowballed, building from passion and rolling into insistent and needy, and as Blaine broke their kiss to mouth his way determinedly down the inner slope of Kurt’s neck, Kurt murmured breathlessly with half-lidded eyes, “Been a long time since we made love.”

Blaine nodded against his skin and let out a low noise of desire, lifting his head to hurriedly reconnect their mouths, clutching Kurt through the back of his shirt. “Bedroom?” he asked hopefully between urgent kisses, and Kurt nodded swiftly against his mouth.

*

They made love amid whispers and muted tones, bodies slotted securely together, mouths never too far from each other. Kurt clung to Blaine, wrapping his legs around Blaine’s thighs, his face buried in Blaine’s shoulder, fingers digging into Blaine’s skin. Blaine held Kurt from underneath, one arm supporting himself, one arm flat against Kurt’s back, his still-slick fingers splayed out against Kurt’s shoulder blade, pressed firmly. They found their rhythm easily, Blaine thrusting into Kurt at that perfect angle, making Kurt gasp into his shoulder and shudder with utmost pleasure on every stroke. Blaine breathed shallowly into his ear, moaning his own pleasure, whispering words of love, words of encouragement, words that no one else in the entire world ever got to hear.

With the heated friction from their bodies, Kurt came first, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly he saw stars behind his lids, body convulsing blissfully under Blaine’s for an indeterminable amount of time. He continued to spasm with less intensity as he panted through delicious aftershocks with satisfaction. He loosened his grip on Blaine then, right hand gliding down to Blaine’s collarbone, leaning up to kiss him as he stilled over Kurt. Gently, Blaine pulled out, and Kurt leaned back against his pillow, slipping his hand down between their bodies to grasp him with knowing fingers. He stroked evenly against the slickness, causing Blaine to bury his face into Kurt’s neck with an appreciative groan. Kurt sped his hand up, concentrating the movement underneath the head the way he knew Blaine liked it, as Blaine rocked steadily into his fist. It only took a moment before Blaine came with a series of stuttering, relieved moans, his arm pulling Kurt close up to him until the aftershocks subsided.

Blaine slumped comfortably into Kurt then, breathing hard and kissing him attentively, smoothing his hand over Kurt’s forehead as he gazed down at him with soft eyes. Kurt weaseled his hand out from between them, placing it on Blaine’s back. They held each other, sharing enamored kisses, until their breathing slowed back to normal. Kurt reached into the first drawer of their nightstand and located the hand towel they kept there for this exact occasion, and they cleaned one another off in relaxed, sated silence. Blaine then moved to stretch out on his stomach next to Kurt, while Kurt remained flat on his back, one hand in Blaine’s hair, twisting a renegade curl while Blaine smiled sleepily back at him.

It was dark in their room, tranquil, and Kurt felt mightily at peace for the first time in weeks.

“Remember that time,” he began, breaking the silence with a chuckle, “Lizzie almost caught us having sex?”

Blaine groaned into the mattress, covering his face with one hand while the memory came back to him. “Cockblocked by my own daughter,” he wailed in mock despair, slapping his hand down next to him.

Kurt laughed again, his eyes trained on the ceiling. It had happened about three years ago, when Lizzie was three years old and still a little unnerved about sleeping alone in her own bed, in her own room. They hadn’t heard her slip through their door, which had been closed at the time, but luckily, they had just been getting started. Kurt had been naked underneath Blaine, who had still had his underwear on – thankfully – and the sheet was still halfway up their bodies. When they’d heard Lizzie’s frightened voice call out to them in the dark, Blaine had frozen above him immediately, the two of them staring at each other in shock. Quickly, Blaine slipped to the side, allowing Kurt to pull the sheet up over his lower half, and while Lizzie – seemingly oblivious to what she had interrupted – climbed into Kurt’s lap on the bed, Blaine slid out and pulled his pajama pants back on as quickly as possible. He returned just in time to hear Lizzie ask Kurt, “Was Daddy hurting you?” in a worried voice.

Kurt had looked back at her, confusion on his face. “Of course not,” he’d replied gently. His heart was still pounding from the initial realization that their daughter had just walked in on them, and it thumped even harder as he tried to imagine what she must have seen. “Daddy loves me. He would never hurt me.” He smoothed her hair comfortingly, hoping to calm himself, hoping his minimal explanation would be enough for her.

It clearly wasn’t. “But you were making funny noises—“ she began, and Kurt went rigid in front of her, his mouth dry, brain immediately devoid of any sort of coherency. They’d known Lizzie was smart from the get-go, but her powers of observation were practically unheard of for someone her age. Mercifully, Blaine had stepped in right then, easily distracting Lizzie from her own thoughts with a simple question about whether she wanted some water or not.

He’d known her answer would be a yes, so he’d picked her up when he got one from her, balancing her on his hip while he took her to the kitchen for a small glass. His face burned with humiliation as he filled the cup and held it to her mouth so she could drink, her big eyes watching him, unperturbed and utterly clueless as to what had just taken place between the three of them. She snuggled into his chest as they made their way back to her bedroom, and after placing her tiny frame into her bed and singing until she fell back asleep, Blaine had returned to his bedroom to find Kurt’s face red as a beet, even redder than his own. After all their years together, and the countless times they’d had sex, they’d thought nothing could embarrass them anymore on this particular subject. But they were still new parents, and they’d found out that night that they were horrifyingly wrong in their assumption that everything concerning them was old-hat. They were in new, uncharted territory, now navigated by a toddler. But after this incident, they were pretty sure nothing else could top it, which probably meant they were safe from now on, which was the only comforting thought that had immediately come out of the whole disaster.

Kurt’s eyes sparkled at Blaine through the darkness now, as he shifted to his side to look at him. “There’s no parenting handbook for that situation,” he mused.

“Not at all.” Blaine looked thoughtful. “But I think we handled it well.”

“Yes, if by ‘handled it well’ you mean we couldn’t look at each other for the rest of the night and halfway through the next day,” Kurt said, poking Blaine playfully in the ribs.

“Ugh,” Blaine replied shamefully. “Sorry about that. I just…felt icky.”

Kurt raised his eyebrow, barely containing his laughter. “I did, too. Talk about a buzzkill.”

Blaine started laughing, turning his face into the mattress to muffle the noise. “Why do we have such a crazy life?”

Kurt laughed, too. “Keeps us on our toes, I guess.” He moved closer to Blaine, who put his arm around him, palm resting against his lower back. “Keeps us reminded of all the good we have around us.”

“Hmm,” Blaine replied, stretching his neck for a kiss with a grin that spoke volumes of concurrence.

Kurt cupped Blaine’s cheek as the kiss intensified, and he pushed Blaine to his back with renewed fervor, moving to straddle him. He leaned over and kissed Blaine hard. “Come on,” he whispered seductively, moving Blaine’s hands further up his thighs with a glint in his eye, “you can help me make some more of those funny noises.”

And seeing that their six-year-old was now a relatively heavy sleeper and had been content to stay in her own bed during the night these last few years, Blaine grinned devilishly up at him and very willingly complied.

*

The next morning, Kurt and Blaine were finishing their scrambled eggs and toast while Lizzie jumped around the living room on front of the TV deliriously singing, “Art camp! Art camp! I’m going to art camp!” with her pigtails bouncing all over the place.

Kurt took their plates to the sink, and as Blaine re-folded a dishtowel over the oven handle, Kurt caught his eye and smiled. “I love you,” Kurt said, and his words from last night reverberated in Blaine’s mind, causing him to smile effortlessly back. The simple phrase had now taken on another meaning, something deeper that Kurt had always kept locked away inside his heart.

Wonderful husband. Amazing father. And they both thought it about the other, indubitably.

“I love you, too,” Blaine replied, an adoring expression seeping across his face.

*

Later that day, after Lizzie had been dropped off at camp and Blaine had already started teaching his first summer session music theory class, Kurt sat at his desk in the studio, looking over Claudia’s photos for the Pastiche spread.

“What’d I tell you?”

Mercedes’ voice came from the doorway, and Kurt looked up at her and smiled. “Just gorgeous,” he replied, glancing down at the photos again. “When did you say my interview was?”

“Tomorrow, ten a.m.,” Mercedes responded, coming to sit in the chair across from his desk. “I wonder what they’ll title the article.”

Kurt put Claudia’s photos back down on his desktop. “Probably just use our tagline,” he said. “A fit for every body. Which reminds me,” he added, looking back up at Mercedes, “I do believe you are due for another photoshoot. I have an idea in mind for a summer wrap-dress collection that will look incredible on you. It’ll be selling like hotcakes come August.”

Mercedes grinned at him. “You know I’m ready,” she said with a sassy flick of hair over her shoulder.

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but the phone on his desk rang then, and his face went white at the caller ID. Mercedes sat up quickly, watching with eagle eyes as Kurt shakily picked up the phone and squeaked out a hello.

“Hey there, kiddo,” Burt’s voice rang out jovially. “Couple questions for you.”

Kurt blew out a relieved breath, waving to Mercedes in a gesture of It’s fine, I’m fine. She nodded and got up to give him some privacy, walking to the door and pulling it closed behind her.

“Hi, Dad,” Kurt said happily, turning in his chair to face the sun shining in through his window. “What’s up?”

“So, a while ago, some kid I know told me to start taking care of myself…”

Kurt grinned internally.

“…so I was wondering if I could snag some of his completely tasteless, borderline disgusting vegetarian recipes so my wife can try her hand at one of ‘em. Y’know…’cause I’m really trying to take better care of myself now.”

Kurt barked out a laugh and propped his feet up on his desk, leaning back in his chair. “Sure, Dad,” he said, his heart feeling light. “Sure, I’ve got a couple recipes you could try…” And you might actually like them, he didn’t add.

Kurt spent the next twenty minutes giving his dad some cooking tips to pass to Carole, and reminded him to watch his salt intake. Burt hung up after making sure that either Kurt or Blaine were still going to send him some summer camp pictures of Elizabeth, and the smile stretched wide across Kurt’s face long after their conversation ended. It lasted all the way into the afternoon, hanging lazily on the outer edges of his mouth, even as he pinned hemlines and chose crimson over violet and tore an awful sketch in half to toss into the wastebasket. Even as he sipped his half-cold coffee, planned out his next day with Mercedes, and re-took her measurements so he could start on his wrap-dress idea. Then it grew ten-fold when Blaine showed up, his classes finished, Lizzie’s day at camp finished, their daughter perched on Blaine’s hip as he carried her in. Her face lit up when she saw Kurt, and immediately she was holding out a macaroni necklace that had been haphazardly fingerpainted in smears of blues and purples.

“Oh, look,” Kurt crooned as he leaned to kiss the two of them hello. “It’s my princess!” He turned to his daughter. “And Lizzie!” And that prompted Blaine to stick his tongue out – actually stick his tongue out at him, like they were sixteen again and Blaine was losing badly at DDR like always – but Kurt just laughed and pressed another kiss to Blaine’s lips to mollify him.

“Daddy, Daddy, look,” Lizzie was gushing, and Kurt had an eyeful of blue macaroni, which he took gratefully from her and placed around his neck as he praised her artwork. Then Lizzie held something else up in his face, her smile radiant. “Look! It’s a polar…a polar…”

Kurt leaned back enough to focus on the object. “A Polaroid,” he finished for her. “It’s a Polaroid picture.”

Lizzie nodded. “Uh-huh! And see what I’m doing in it?”

Kurt could see. “You’re playing the tambourine!” he cried, his eyes twinkling at her.

“Uh-huh!” she answered smugly. “Miss Green said I was the best! And I asked her about playing the harp, but she said the harp was too big to bring into the park, but maybe someday, she said, just like you said before, maybe someday I’ll be able to play one in front of a bunch of people, and they would clap, and I would bow…oh, and I’d get to wear a pretty dress with flowers in my hair, and you and Daddy would be there, too…”

Kurt looked at Blaine as Lizzie kept rambling happily to herself, and they shared an amused grin, Blaine’s hazel eyes shining in the dying sunlight streaming into the studio.

Crazy life. The thought came back to the both of them at the same moment. With the quality of the people in their lives, with their hearts so strongly safeguarded by these people who loved them, so cushioned against every unexpected bump or jolt, who wouldn’t enjoy every last second of this? Life in this place may have been chaotic, gut-wrenching, and overwhelming at times, but it was also entirely rewarding, amazingly fulfilling, and undeniably complete.