1. Blackbird

Blaine was not panicking. He was a Dalton man; a Warbler; an Anderson. He was calm, cool, and collected at all times. He was the epitome of dapper. Unless he was thoroughly embarrassing himself by coming on way too strong to cute boys he’d only had a group coffee date with. He barely knew Jeremiah and had still managed to throw all decorum and class right out the window. Jeremiah meant nothing. Kurt meant everything. And if he was that bad at just a little crush than he was going to completely screw this up and Kurt would hate him and never speak to him again and Blaine’s whole world will spiral into a chaotic bottomless pit of despair. Ok, maybe he was panicking a little.

On his desk in his dorm room was a loose sheet of notebook paper he had torn roughly from one his notebooks during Math. It had a few half-finished equations on the top and then under that all the way down to the uneven tear cutting off the bottom right corner of the page were ideas. Ideas for wooing Kurt. He’d almost started a new paper with a more proper title and outline; Ideas for Wooing Kurt: a Five-Step Plan for Love. But that seemed a little ridiculous, even for him. Also, he couldn’t chance his roommate seeing it and making fun of him for being a cheesy sap (What are you going ask him to go to the sock hop? Maybe share a malt down at the diner and give him your pin?) He would totally say that. Jerk.

No, he had to be more covert than that. So, in small handwriting scribbled down the paper were dozens of ideas; all of them crossed out with angry black lines. He’d torn the paper a bit on the last one. Blaine poked at the hole on the page and scrubbed his other hand over his face. Then banged his head on the desk a few times for good measure.

#7 Sing “Wind Beneath my Wings” 

 He was an idiot. An idiot who had terrible ideas. An idiot who had terrible ideas and no chance of getting Kurt to like him back because it was too late and he’d screwed up everything and he was going to be alone the rest of his life, and- Oh, the goes the panic again.

#12 Just be spontaneous.  

Right, he’ll just word vomit everything he’s thinking, that’ll go well. Hey Kurt, you’re my best friend and I think you’re amazing and super hot and remember how I was all, let’s just be friends? Yeah scratch that, that was stupid. I think about your lips all the time. We should totally make out.

#20 Gather the Warblers for a serenade of “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?” 

Seriously, what was wrong with him? Blaine was good at singing out his feelings, or making a statement with a song and usually that was enough- too much at times, really. But this...this was new. When Kurt was singing Blackbird it was like the whole world shifted under his feet and if he’d reached up over his head there would have been a lightbulb switching on. It was just...oh.Oh. Of course. 

How could he possibly explain that? Everything he’d ever wanted and had been looking so hard for was right there in front of his face the whole time. He was searching for that missing piece so hard that he hadn’t stopped to realize that he’d been holding on to it the whole time.Oh, there you are.

#27 Be honest.

2. Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?

Kurt had known without a doubt that he wanted this. And that his dad was right, sex did mean something. And to him it meant literally and metaphorically opening himself up and laying himself bare to another person. Blaine. Who was also literally and metaphorically bare. 

They were twined together still, the last layer peeled away with shaking fingers and pounding hearts. Kissing. So much kissing. There was mood lighting and soft music; Blaine had put his iPod on a "romantic music" shuffle and it was perfect. Kurt could admit that he’d thought about this moment a lot. Seeing all of Blaine. Touching all of Blaine. He wanted, oh did he want. He had not really factored in, however, the logistics of being naked with another person. With Blaine. Because instead of looking and touching and having he couldn’t stop thinking about what he looked like just now. 

Like, should he lay on his side or his back? If he was on his side would there be an element of...how to put this delicately...floppage? Was that sexy? Or no? Also, Blaine would be certain to feel him. It. Feel it. Was it time for that? When was the appropriate moment to make it known that hey, here’s my dick, go on then? It was hard to discern.

Or maybe on his back? Maybe on his back with hands tucked under his head and his eyes all low and sultry and his lips puckered and- no. Who was he? Rita Hayworth? 

Draped over Blaine, maybe. He seemed to like that when they made out, Kurt on him, chest over chest. It would avoid the whole early poking issue...Only, what about his armpits? With a shirt on it wasn’t a big deal, armpits touching shoulders or arms and that was ok. But naked armpits? Would that gross Blaine out? Oh no, were his armpits sweaty? Was Blaine grossed out by him right now?

No. He didn’t looked grossed out. He looked...Kurt took a peek. Well this close up it was hard to say but he looked pretty happy. Blissful, even. Maybe this was good then, slightly on his back, but bent forward to reach Blaine’s mouth. 

Was he the only one worried about this? And who should make what move now that they were naked together and kissing and now...yep. That would be Blaine’s dick. Well, that problem was solved anyway. 

The track on Blaine’s iPod switched to The Police’s Every Breath You Take. And as Sting went on about stalking and obsession; Kurt was so focused on really, Blaine, this song is creepy; not romantic,  and wondering if he should be flexing his abs right now or not; that his mind had been elsewhere when Blaine reached out and ran his fingers feather soft over the head of Kurt’s dick.

Kurt squeaked in surprise and jerked away on instinct and Blaine froze and his eyes widened.

“I’m so sorry Kurt I-”

“No! I’m sorry just-”

“-thought you wanted to and crap-”

“-do. I do want to. I’m sorry-”

“If you don’t it’s ok-we don’t have to-”

“-creepy song and naked we are so naked, Blaine!”

“-probably think I’m gross and weird-looking-”

Their words tumbled over each other and Kurt couldn’t get Blaine to stop and listen and he wasn’t really explaining himself well anyway and crap, now they wouldn’t even have sex- Suddenly they both went silent as the music switched again.

Why don’t we do it in the road! 

Well that’s inappropriate. Kurt opened his mouth to try and explain and salvage this night somehow...

Why don’t we do it the road!

Could a worse song have come on right then? With Paul McCartney practically moaning about having sex in public? And, oh god, was Blaine crying? 

No one will be watching us! Why don’t we do it in the road!

Kurt is officially the worst boyfriend ever and also? Still a virgin. And then Blaine snorted. And barked out a laugh. Then started giggling helplessly. Kurt couldn’t help but join in and soon they were both laughing and holding each other tightly. Kurt ended up under Blaine who looked down at him all warm honey eyes and a soft smile. Just like that; the awkwardness and tension was gone. 

There was mood lighting and soft music and the electric buzz of bare skin on bare skin. Blaine’s body slotted perfectly with Kurt’s like they had been made for each other. Kurt let his eyes drift shut and then literally and figuratively opened up and took Blaine inside of him.

3. I Am The Walrus

Kurt loved college. Loved getting to choose his classes (well, prerequisites aside...) loved the inclusive atmosphere, loved the freedom and the challenge and feeling like the world was opening to him in new ways. But right now? Right now he hated it. He had been cramming for exams all week. He was exhausted and frazzled and he detested Organic Chemistry so much that he felt homicidal. He was convinced his professor was speaking Russian or Zulu or Martian during his lectures just to mess with them, because that could not be English.

Blaine wasn’t faring much better; Kurt was pretty sure he was gulping down his sixth coffee of the day as he scribbled furiously in a notebook and was only noon. Kurt couldn’t be sure but it looked like he was actually vibrating. Things were so tense that they had been sniping at each other all week, and they hardly ever fought.

Kurt sighed and threw down his pencil, then slammed his book shut. He needed to clear his head. He ran his fingers through his hair. Ugh. He needed a shower. When was the last time he’d showered? Kurt wearily dragged himself to the tiny bathroom. Maybe a nap, too. He ducked under the sink to grab a towel and was greeted with a few rolls of toilet paper, their electric razors, and some mostly finished lotions and shampoos that Blaine was supposed to have thrown away weeks ago. No towels.

Kurt tossed the bottles in the trash and looked around. No towels hung on the rack. Not over the shower curtain. And then- there. In a soggy pile on the floor. All six of the oversized soft towels Kurt had insisted were worth the extra price (and they so were) just in a heap. Kurt groaned. Why was everything so hard this week? Why couldn’t he just take a shower? Why couldn’t he figure out that stupid chemistry study guide? 

“Blaine. Why are all of the towels wet and on the floor?” He tried to ask nicely, really he did. It came out snippy anyway.

 Blaine looked up, curls askew, eyes rimmed with dark circles.“I was going to wash them.”

“And you didn’t because...”

“I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet! I’m trying to study and I can’t focus because not only were the Puritans insane they were horrendously boring!”

“I want to take a shower, Blaine! How can I do that with no towel?”

“Well how was I supposed to know? You always expect me to read your mind, Kurt! I don’t know what the hell goes on in there!” He waved his hands over his head wildly.

“Right, because after all these years I’m such a mystery that you haven’t figured out that I prefer to dry myself with, oh I don’t know, a dry towel!” Kurt spat.

Blaine had gotten up then, threw his notebook down on the table and walked out of the apartment. That was five hours ago.

Kurt had done a load of towels and showered. Then tried to lay down and nap but he was too keyed up. And then he felt guilty. And then worried. And now he was kind of angry again because Blaine wouldn’t answer his phone. The whole fight was so stupid. Where was he? Fine. He didn’t want to talk to him anyway. But what if he was hurt? What if he wasn’t coming back?

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together

Oh god, he wouldn’t

See how the run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly

Who is he kidding? It’s Blaine, of course he would.

I’m crying

Kurt wrenched open the window overlooking the street to see Blaine on the sidewalk, holding Rachel’s bedazzled pink boom box and singing his heart out. Kurt just laughed and shook his head, motioning for Blaine to come back up, just as he was finishing the first goo goo g’joob.

“I Am The Walrus?” Kurt asked once he had Blaine back in his arms.

“I’m tired and Rachel would not shut up about soul-mates and compromising and supporting each other’s dreams and I had to get out of there...” Blaine nuzzled into Kurt’s neck and let out a slow breath. “Isn’t it about fighting and being sad and apologizing?”

“Pretty sure it was just about acid,” Kurt laughed. They decided they both needed a nap after that. And after some other, more pressing concerns.

4. Two Of Us

Blaine was not panicking again. He was a mature adult who was rational and unflappable at all times. He was a grown man for heaven’s sake, this should not be so hard! Blaine picked up the rumpled piece of notebook paper and tossed it into the trashcan next to his desk with a groan. Then banged his head on the desktop a bit just for old times’ sake. He wanted to propose. And it had to be perfect because Kurt deserved the perfect proposal and so much more. And Blaine was still an idiot. A jumbo-tron? What on earth had he been thinking. Sky writing? Pathetic. He was an idiot. A hackneyed  idiot.

Blaine sighed and moped into the kitchen to start dinner. Kurt was working late so Blaine hoped to have dinner ready and waiting when he got home. He’d also managed to snag some of the Merlot that Kurt liked that they always seemed to be sold out of at the wine store. Blaine had cornered the stock boy one day and asked when they usually got new shipments of it. Wednesday. Personally Blaine didn’t think it tasted all that different than all the other red wines, but Kurt loved it so...

Blaine tried to think as he chopped vegetables. Walk on the beach? No, not as romantic as it seems. Sand gets everywhere; learned that the hard way. Hire an orchestra and...what just set them up in the living room? Would that be awkward? Marry me and ignore the band taking up half of the house. Harp? Oh! Doves! No...

Blaine started to saute the vegetables and turned up the volume on the classics station he’d put on as they sizzled in the pan. 

We’re on our way home

We’re on out way home

We’re going home

He was so caught up in singing along that he hadn’t heard the door open and close again, or noticed Kurt standing in the doorway watching him, a soft smile on his face.

You and I have memories

longer than the road that stretches out ahead

“Marry me.”

Blaine spun around to see Kurt, tears filling his eyes, smile turned exuberant. 

“What?”

“I said...” Kurt dropped to one knee and held Blaine’s hands. “Marry me. Will you?”

It wasn’t until much later, after they’d laughed and cried and called their parents and families and friends and tumbled into bed, giddy and breathless, that Blaine had finally answered; whispering it into his skin as Kurt rocked above him: yes, yes, yes. 

It was the perfect engagement.

5: I Will

“I’m going to kill Rachel.” Kurt slammed the front door and flopped onto the couch; Blaine didn’t bother looking up from the novel he was reading. Kurt would have been annoyed, but he did tend to say that a lot. It wasn’t even the first time he’d said it that week. Or that day, actually. But still. This time he meant it.

“This is my wedding, not hers, and yet she is constantly haranguing me about the flowers or the cake or having an all vegan menu Blaine! Vegan!”

“Don’t you mean our wedding?” Kurt waved a hand to say, you know what I meant, and Blaine flipped the page of his book.

“And she seems to think she’ll be singing for our first dance! I mean, of course she has an amazing voice, but way to try and make it all about her-”

“Why can’t she?” Blaine set his book down. Kurt leveled a stare at him. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You know Rachel views her singing talent as a gift, and if she wants to give us that then why not? You know she means well.”

“She always means well,” Kurt muttered.

“Let her pick the song for our first dance and perform it and she’ll probably back off about the other stuff.” 

Kurt sighed and stood up. He had to make a final decision about the cake; (Blaine’s contribution being: “I like all of them!”) he didn’t have time for Rachel’s dramatics anyway.

“Fine. But if she belts out You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings for our first dance, it’s on your head.” With that he strode from the room and Blaine turned back to his book, mentally patting himself on the back for crossing that one off his wooing Kurt list all those years ago.

In the end Rachel pulled off a gorgeous and moving version of I Will and Kurt and Blaine had danced twined together as husbands for the first time trading off murmured lyrics in each other’s ears as everyone they loved gathered around to watch them.

Love you forever and forever

Love you with all my heart

Love you whenever we’re together

Love you when we’re apart

Bonus:  Beautiful Boy

Blaine pulled to the side of the road; tears clouding his vision. He was going to cause an accident- god, he was a nervous wreck. Never had a a drive home seemed so fraught with peril. Had the world always been this dangerous?! Blaine heard a sniffle from behind him. He threw open the door and quickly climbed into the back seat.

“I can’t believe he’s real.” Kurt reached out a shaking finger and brushed it along delicate eyelids, a button nose, puckered rosebud mouth.

“I know.”

“He is so perfect.”

“I know.”

“He is so beautiful.”

“I know.”

“We’re Dads, Blaine. What they hell were we thinking? That’s insane!”

“I know!”

They were silent for a while after that, the idle engine clicking and whirring, gentle breeze tousling the leaves lining the random side street they’d stopped on. They watched his tiny chest rise and fall; rise and fall. Mesmerized. Their baby. Their boy. 

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

beautiful boy

Blaine sang softly as Kurt stroked the baby’s curled up fingers and a tiny hand flexed and grabbed and held on tight. “I would die for him,” Kurt whispered as the song ended.

“I know."