Klaine Advent

06 – Fan

Blaine takes his time packing up his notebook and pencils, waiting for the crowd of his classmates to pass before heading for the door. He's too tired to attempt to join the maddening rush, and since he only plans to grab a pretzel from the vender down the block for lunch, he's in no hurry to brave the December air.

“Excuse me, I'm looking for my husband; perhaps you've seen him? Future Broadway star, the cutest –”

“Kurt!” Blaine had started to turn before the first sentence was finished, leaving his bag sitting on his desk, the strap still swinging as Blaine scrambles to cross the room. “Kurt – everything's ok, right? I just – I thought you had a shift at the diner?”

“I may have switched shifts so I could bring you lunch. But you were taking so long I couldn't stand waiting any more so…” Kurt holds up a bag in his right hand while making jazz motions with his left, “surprise?”

Blaine stares.

Kurt's still smiling, though he lowers his arms during the ensuing silence, setting the bag on the desk closest to him. Blaine gapes for a moment more before hurrying around the rows the desks, skidding to a stop before Kurt and reaching out, pulling him into a kiss even as his arms curl around Kurt for support.

He manages to pull back moments later, offering a smile even as he ignores the blush he feels heating his cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kurt murmurs, and Blaine's smile widens as he takes in the breathless quality of the words.

“So,” Blaine muses as he keeps his arms around Kurt, “to what do I owe this surprise lunch?”

“I can't have just wanted to see my husband?”

“Kurt –”

“I saw your notebook last night,” Kurt answers, “for your theatre class. I'm going to assume you just forgot to tell me that you're Polinices –”

“It's an in-class production,” Blaine interrupts, “so we didn't even have auditions.” Blaine gives a small laugh, “We don't even have an audience forAntigone; we're just borrowing the theatre space next week –”

“You'll still be the best Polinices; your professor wouldn't have chosen you otherwise.”

“You're biased.”

“Perhaps,” Kurt smiles and steps back. “Just get your bag, Blaine. Even surprise lunches have a schedule.”

Blaine gives a small hop backwards and heads for his bag. “Why are we having one, again? Don't think I didn't notice how you skipped over my question.”

Kurt laughs and picks up the bag he'd set on the desk. “Maybe I was just hoping to spend time with the best Polinices to grace the stage – after all,” Kurt winks, “I'm your number one fan.”

“Cute,” Blaine comments as he shrugs into his coat and throws his bag over his shoulder, “So, my ‘number one fan' – what's next?”

“C'mon,” Kurt teases, taking Blaine's arm once he comes into range, “the lobby I passed looked like it had some comfy chairs; I think they're calling our names.”

“It is a five-star establishment,” Blaine agrees, allowing Kurt to lead him down the hall.

Slips of conversations echo off the tiled floor, but Blaine ignores them, keeping his focus on Kurt. They arrive in the lobby a few minutes later, and Blaine takes a seat (pushing his chair so it rests beside Kurt's), feels his eyebrows raise as Kurt pulls out the tablecloth from their dinette set, followed by a large thermos and several plastic containers of food.

“Kurt –”

“Wait!” Kurt turns to his own messenger bag, pulling out napkins and silverware. “Now we're ready.”

“You're amazing,” Blaine shakes his head, “but really, Kurt. What's the occasion?” Blaine pauses, leaning to the side so he can take Kurt's hand. “I didn't forget something, did I?”

“I already told you,” Kurt smiles, “I'm your biggest fan.”

“You're impossible.”

“I love you, too.” Kurt deftly begins serving from the various containers, splitting sandwiches and chilled pasta salad before pouring coffee from the thermos.

Blaine feels himself relaxing as Kurt shares the latest NYADA gossip, complete with complaints of Rachel's latest attempt to convince Kurt to duet with her in Central Park.

“I hope you told her you already have a duet partner,” Blaine replies.

“Trust me,” Kurt's voice holds a touch of annoyance, “she knows.”

Blaine laughs, reaching to give Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek. “I'm glad; I like our duets.”

“Doesn't everyone?” Kurt teases, reaching to steal the last bite of Blaine's pasta salad. “Anyway,” Kurt continues, moving to put lids back on containers, offering Blaine a quick smile when he moves to help, “I'm not keeping you from anything, am I? I know this probably took longer than you planned…”

“My class isn't til two,” Blaine comments as he begins folding up the tablecloth, “but what about you? What's the actual schedule of my amazing husband?”

“Funny,” Kurt finishes wiping off the silverware with the extra napkins, “and I'm not due at the diner til three. But I meant,” Kurt pauses, glancing around the lobby, “I'm not keeping you from your friends, am I?”

“No,” Blaine draws out the word so it sounds more of a question by the end, leaning forward again to catch Kurt's gaze. “Kurt, what –”

“I was actually hoping you'd say that,” Kurt interrupts, “because I had one more surprise planned.”

“Kurt –”

“Here,” Blaine startles back at the interruption, staring at the small wrapped package in Kurt's hand, “Just a little something.”

Blaine stares at the package for a moment, taking in its square shape. A glance to Kurt shows his husband leaning forward in his seat, his face a mix of eagerness and apprehension.

Blaine unwraps the present, setting the ripped paper on the table before staring at the frame in his hands.

Inside, a copy of the OMEA Regionals 2011 Program sits, placed so Blaine's name as a soloist rests centered behind the glass, with his and Kurt's signatures (done at Mr. Hummel's request) penned off to the side.

“I don't –”

“You're amazing,” Kurt murmurs from his chair, “and I'm sorry that those stupid seniors can't see that, I am. But you'll kill your performance inAntigone, I know it, and soon I'm sure you'll be inundated with love-struck admirers. I just wanted to remind you, before that, that you already have a number one fan,” Kurt nods to the frame, “and I've believed in you from the beginning.”

Blaine is out of the chair within seconds, the frame trapped between them as he pulls Kurt in for a kiss.

He hears a whistle from behind him, whispers of conversation he ignores in favor of tightening his hold on Kurt until an especially loud shout has them pulling apart, laughing.

“Thank you.” Blaine whispers, staying close.

“And here I thought that's what the kiss meant,” Kurt teases.

The only acceptable response is to pull Kurt in for another kiss, even as Blaine's already mentally going through his scrapbooks and loose pictures his got from Carole; after all, he's Kurt's biggest fan, too.