In that moment on the staircase at Dalton, with Blaine kneeling and offering up a ring, looking at Kurt like he hung the moon and the stars, Kurt was suddenly certain. His heart, his veins, his whole body flooded with love, and in that instant he knew. Blaine was his everything. The only answer that could possibly come out of Kurt in that moment was yes.

Kurt’s memories of the next hour or so were not very clear at all. Certain images were vivid—the ring on his finger after he put it on, the look on his father’s face just before they hugged, how Sebastian had clapped him on the shoulder and good-naturedly said, “you win.” The rest was a blur—congratulations and handshakes and hugs lost to the giddiness of his emotions, the negotiations over logistics of driving away mainly dealt with by others, the nostalgic glance over his shoulder as he walked away from the Dalton building where he’d made so many memories.

He found himself in the backseat of his father’s car, Blaine nestled close beside him and holding his hand, his father lecturing them about hard work and responsibility and commitment as they drove down the highway toward the airport. He didn’t hear a word of it. Or rather, he heard all the words, but they faded out of his consciousness without making an impression. The only thing that mattered was Blaine, physically beside him for just half an hour more, and the need to drink up and fully live every moment of this joy that seemed so overwhelmingly all-encompassing but could not possibly burn so white-hot for long. His love for Blaine would go on forever, of course. But this bursting-at-the-seams feeling could not exist for more than a short time. It was too rich, too thick, too unendurably much.

He hugged his father once more at the curb outside the terminal. He turned to Blaine and they joined hands. Neither of them could let go.

“I’ll see you again soon,” Blaine said, his voice breaking a little bit.

“I …” Kurt couldn’t find the words. “I’m so happy, Blaine.” A tear ran down his cheek.

Blaine kissed the tear away. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

Kurt nodded. “Me too.”

One last kiss and they backed away from each other slowly until their fingertips couldn’t reach anymore.

“I love you,” Kurt said, trying to will himself to turn around and enter the airport.

“I love you too,” Blaine said. He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Don’t miss your flight, Kurt,” Burt said gruffly.

Kurt nodded and turned to walk briskly away before he could stop himself.

“And that is why I wouldn’t let you drive him yourself,” Kurt heard his father tell Blaine.

------

Alone in the airport, Kurt twitched with nervous energy. He checked himself in for his flight and walked to the gate. He only had about ten minutes until boarding, but he couldn’t make himself sit. He walked back to a newsstand and bought a bottle of water he didn’t need and a magazine he knew he wouldn’t read. He walked back to the gate. He sat down and then immediately stood up again. He walked down the corridor and back. The pre-boarding announcement for his flight came over the loudspeakers and he paced quickly to the boarding door. He hovered there, fidgeting while an old lady using a walker was helped into a wheelchair and rolled down the access ramp. He shifted his weight from one leg to another as the business class passengers boarded. He ran his fingers through his hair over and over again, watching two families with small children hoist all their gear and trudge down the ramp.

Seated in the cheap seats at the back of the plane, Kurt was in the next boarding group. His hand shook as he gave his boarding pass to the flight attendant, and as he took it back. He walked down the ramp quickly, lifted his carryon into the overhead compartment, took his seat and buckled in. And then he waited while the other passengers slowly filed onto the plane. He waited. And waited. And waited.

He’d said yes. He’d agreed to marry Blaine. He had told Blaine that they could spend their whole lives together.

Had that really happened?

He looked down at his hand. The white gold ring glistened on his finger. The way it pressed against his pinky and middle fingers on the sides was unfamiliar and slightly weird. It would take some getting used to. He stared at it, observing the way the skin of his ring finger pinched inwards under the ring, creating the slightest hourglass shape on his finger. The little hairs below his knuckle seemed darker than usual, the ring making them stick up instead of lying flat. Maybe he should pluck them. Would that be weird? Did people pluck their finger hairs? If he did, should he pluck just the ones on that finger, or all of them? What about his other hand? Would it look weird to have finger hair on just one hand?

He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and took a sip. A woman stopped beside his seat, gesturing that her seat was the window one next to his. He stood up quickly, but didn’t make it—he’d buckled his seatbelt and he jerked back onto the seat awkwardly, spilling a stream of water onto his shirt.

“Shoot! I’m sorry!” He unbuckled his seatbelt and grasped around for a napkin, but there was nothing handy. He stood up and let her into the aisle, then rushed down to the lavatory at the back of the plane to grab some paper towels. At least the water was just on his shirt, not his dry-clean-only suit jacket. He patted the towels against his bright purple shirt, now much darker on the wet spot in the center of his chest. He looked at it in the mirror and sighed.

Then he glanced up at the reflection of his face. His hair was a mess from running his hands through it in all his fidgeting. He looked flushed, anxious, uncertain. Not at all like someone who had just gotten engaged.

What if he’d made the wrong choice? What if this was all wrong?

The speaker crackled. “All passengers must be in their seats with seatbelts fastened before we can back away from the gate.”

Kurt guiltily returned to his seat, trying to ignore the glares of his fellow passengers.

He didn’t know what to do.

His leg bounced nervously through the whole flight home. He paged listlessly through the magazine, not reading anything. What would he say to Blaine? Should he call the whole thing off? Ask for more time to think about it? How could he ever explain it? How could he do it without breaking Blaine’s heart?

The ring was like a lead weight on his hand. It throbbed with every movement. It bored a hole into Kurt’s skull whenever he looked at it. He should never have accepted it so soon. He should have said maybe. He should have told Blaine that no matter how in love they were, they should wait. He should have known that he was carried away with feelings that were not fully rational.

Wheeling his suitcase through the New York airport, Kurt found a gate that was almost completely empty. The info board showed a flight that didn’t leave for another five hours, and only two people were sitting in the chairs there, both of them typing on laptops. He took a chair in the farthest corner, away from the corridor and the other people, and he pulled out his phone. His muscles locked with tension as he pressed the call button beside Blaine’s name.

“Hi,” Blaine breathed happily into the phone. “How is New York?”

Blaine’s voice poured through the phone and into Kurt’s head like a warm stream of water. He began to relax instantly. It felt like stepping into a hot shower after a long, hard day. The muscles in his face gentled first, and then his shoulders dropped their tension and settled into a softer position. His back lost its rigidity and he leaned back into the chair. He looked out at the corridor and watched the people rush by, suitcases rolling behind them, backpacks on their shoulders. “New York is … like it always is. Lonely in a crowd.”

“You never have to be lonely again, Kurt. I’m always with you.”

Kurt smiled broadly. He felt light as air. “I wish you were here for real,” he heard himself say.

“I’m right there with you, sweetheart. Look down at your hand. That’s my ring on your finger. That’s my love in your heart.”

Kurt looked at the ring that had seemed so alien just a few moments ago. It looked exactly the same, but it was transformed now. It felt smooth against his skin, a comforting reminder of how much he was loved. It tied him to the man that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, because yes, he wanted that, desperately and with all his heart. How had he forgotten that? Where had those worries come from? This was Blaine. This was the love of his life.

“I miss you like crazy,” Kurt said. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. Call me tonight, okay? When everything is quiet and you’re done with everything you need to get done today, and then we can just be together, okay?”

“Okay,” Kurt whispered. A wave of emotion washed over him at the thought of curling up in bed with Blaine tonight. Even though Blaine wouldn’t be physically there, he’d always be there.

------

A young man and woman were making out on the subway car Kurt walked into on his way home from the airport. He tried not to look, but they were right there in front of his face. They were standing, the man holding an overhead rail with one hand and his other arm protectively around his partner. Her arms were thrown around his neck, her face tipped up to lock mouths with him. She let the motion of the subway car sway her body, trusting that he would hold her up.

They looked so happy, Kurt though, trying not to seem like too much of a creeper as he watched them. They looked like they had no worries in the world, no fears, just certainty in each other and happiness. He was happy with Blaine, sure he was. But was he that happy? The worries crept back in. They were so young. How did they know that what they wanted at nineteen years old would be what they’d want at twenty-five or forty or seventy? They’d talked about their future together only in fantasy, fairy tale terms. They weren’t really going to buy a renovated lighthouse and start an artists’ colony. Blaine didn’t think that was really the plan, did he? What if their real desires didn’t match up? What if Blaine wanted to adopt a dozen kids or try screen acting in Los Angeles? What if Kurt got a fabulous job offer in Milan? Would Blaine go with him? What if he refused to? What if he went but then resented it later and that grew and grew until it became a huge point of tension between them that could never be resolved? What if everything fell apart between them?

Kurt let himself into the apartment, his head spinning with worries and what-ifs. He unpacked his clothes and stowed the empty suitcase under his bed. He ironed the clothes that had gotten wrinkled in transit. He made a quick dinner of some pasta and a jar of tomato sauce, then wrote out a grocery list so he could go shopping the next day. He swept the floors even though they were already clean.

Rachel arrived home four hours after him. She burst through the door of the apartment giddy with excitement. She talked incessantly, going over the details of everything that had happened at Dalton earlier in the day. The performance, the proposal, and all the background things that Kurt hadn’t been privy to—the planning, the wardrobe selection, the dress rehearsal, the way she’d groomed Blaine for the event and reassured him that Kurt would love every bit of it. He had loved every bit of it, hadn’t he?

He reassured her that he had, but inside he felt less and less sure. He couldn’t tell her his worries. Not without telling Blaine first. Kurt quaked with the pressure of it all. So many people were invested in this. If it all dissolved away, so many people would be disappointed. Not just Blaine, but also Rachel and Mercedes and Santana and Sam and the Warblers and all those people he’d never even met, and oh god, his father.

Kurt excused himself as soon as he could. He closed the curtains around his sleeping area, secluding himself in the semi-darkness. He took off his suit and shirt, shedding the expectations of the day. He slipped on a pair of pajamas, but the comfort of the clothing didn’t transfer into emotional comfort the way it sometimes did. His pulse beat in his finger under the engagement ring’s gentle pressure. Did it belong there? Did Blaine belong here?

He folded back the covers, slid underneath, and pulled the sheet and heavy comforter on top of himself. He let his head fall back onto the pillows. Uncertain, he called Blaine.

“My love,” Blaine whispered into his ear, and oh, there was the comfort. There was the certainty, the relief, the joy. How had Kurt forgotten this feeling of being wrapped up in Blaine’s love? Of course everything was perfect between them. Of course they would spend the rest of their lives happy together.

“I’m going crazy without you,” Kurt whispered back.

“Me too, baby. I wish you were here, or I was there. I wish we’d had a night to spend together after everything that happened today.”

Kurt was giddy with joy, and dizzy with the disorientation of his emotional reversal. “You don’t think we had enough sex before that?” he teased.

Blaine laughed. “That’s not what I meant. Not that I’d mind having more sex! I just meant … it was a lot. Today. Getting engaged, all the nervousness and excitement and then you just … had to leave right away. I wish we could have spent some time together. Adjusting to that, I guess. Getting used to it.”

“That would have been nice,” Kurt said. He thought about telling Blaine how nervous he’d been feeling all afternoon. But it seemed so irrelevant now. His worries had been ridiculous. Of course he belonged with Blaine. Of course everything was going to be okay. There was no reason to bring it up. It would be so difficult to explain, and Blaine might misunderstand, and that would be terrible. Better to bask in this happiness instead.

“It’s like a whole new world,” Blaine said. “A whole new world with you.”

“Unbelievable sights, indescribable feelings?” Kurt deadpanned.

“We should do a duet of that, when I’m in New York!” Blaine said, and Kurt could practically see his eyes shining with excitement.

Kurt grinned. “Okay, fine. But not in public. And I get to be Jasmine.”

------

Kurt’s calm lasted through a night full of the sweetest dreams he’d ever had. It lasted through his shower and breakfast, and through his whole commute to the NYADA campus. He smiled as he walked into the building. He couldn’t wait to share all of this—his school, his city, his life—with Blaine.

His phone buzzed with a text message, and he fished it out of his pocket to read. It was from Ian, a friend from his acting class that he chatted with pretty frequently at school.

Heard you’re back in town. I’ve been meaning to ask you out for coffee. Today? My excuse is that I’ll fill you in on what you missed in class, maybe? ;-)

Kurt stared at the screen. The winking face, the line about needing an excuse, the fact that he’d been meaning to ask Kurt out … it seemed like it could be a date. It was at least flirtatious. He didn’t know how to answer something like this. Obviously the news of his engagement had not traveled to NYADA yet.

He stuck his phone into his bag and headed to the locker room to change for dance class. He kept his eyes carefully off the other guys. The NYADA locker rooms were weird. Since so many of the men here were gay, the unwritten code of conduct seemed different from what he had experienced at McKinley. It was more casual in some ways, but more nerve-wracking in other ways. Kurt hadn’t figured it all out, even after several months at school, so he mainly tried to get in and out as fast as possible without looking at any of the others.

Sometimes he wondered if any of the other guys there were checking him out. The first time that idea had occurred to him, it had seemed laughable. But once he started dating Adam, and Adam kept assuring him that he was gorgeous and hot and anyone would be lucky to date him, he started to believe that it might be possible. In the privacy of his bedroom, he started looking at himself differently in the mirror—less critically and more appraisingly. He started to realize that he was actually a rather good-looking guy.

Things hadn’t worked out with Adam, but he’d never tried dating anyone else. And now he was back with Blaine. Permanently. He was going to get married to Blaine, and he would never date anyone else ever again. For the rest of his life.

He felt claustrophobic all of a sudden, sandwiched in a narrow aisle between two rows of lockers. There were so many opportunities he would miss out on. When he was thirty, would he look back and regret that he’d never taken advantage of being a young, single gay guy in New York City? And how did he even know that Blaine was his true love when he’d hardly even tried being with anyone else? Maybe there were dozens of other guys who could make him feel just as good as Blaine did. Maybe there was someone who could make him feel even better.

He took his frustrations out in the dance classroom, leaping and twirling with fierce determination that earned him an approving nod from Cassie July. Was he trapped? Had he fashioned a beautiful cage for himself, where he could feel safe with Blaine and never have to experience the rejection and uncertainty of the dating scene? Was this a tradeoff he wanted to make—stability instead of excitement? Was he really ready to settle down, at less than twenty years old?

There was a voicemail waiting for him when he came back to the locker room. He pressed play and held the phone up to his ear.

“I just wanted to tell you I love you.” Blaine’s voice on the recording was pure joy. “I woke up this morning and I couldn’t believe how lucky I am that I found the love of my life while I’m still in high school. So many people have to go through years of loneliness and uncertainty, but you and I, we found each other and we’ll never have to do that, and I am so incredibly happy, Kurt. I love you so much.”

Kurt smiled with a lump in his throat. All those disadvantages of an early engagement he’d been dwelling on for the past hour, in an instant they seemed like benefits. He texted back to Blaine. You’re right. We are so lucky.

And then he texted back to Ian. Sorry, don’t have time for coffee. See you in class.

------

Kurt was on his way out of the school building at the end of the day when he came careening around a corner and almost physically bumped into Carmen Tibideaux. He halted in his tracks, arms flailing out to the sides to stop himself from falling over. “I’m so sorry, Madam Tibideaux! I should pay more attention to where I’m going.”

“You should,” she said in that unperturbed tone she always used, even at her most perturbed. “It looks like you have some big things on your mind, though. Is that a wedding ring on your finger? I’m quite sure it wasn’t there a few months ago.”

Kurt brought his hands together automatically, sliding the ring back and forth with the thumb and index finger of his right hand. “It’s an engagement ring, actually. My high school sweetheart proposed to me while I was back in Ohio yesterday.”

“Well, congratulations, Mr. Hummel,” she said, actually breaking into a small smile for once. “People will be saying you’re too young, I’m sure, but I’ve always found that married students are usually the most stable, hard workers I’ve ever taught. Many congratulations to you.” She nodded a farewell, then stepped around him and disappeared into her office.

Kurt walked to the subway station in a daze. Carmen’s words were not what he’d expected. He was always a hard worker, married or not. But what did she mean by stable? He didn’t feel very stable. He felt confused and uncertain, veering wildly from emotion to emotion ever since Blaine had proposed. Where would this stability come from? When would it find its way into his mind? If he didn’t feel it, did it mean he wasn’t ready to get married yet?

He started baking a cheesecake when he got back to his apartment. He could have bought it ready-made, easily. Good New York cheesecake was available everywhere, and he knew all the best bakeries. But making it from scratch was a ritual allowed him the time and space to think.

Graham crackers went into a ziplock bag and he smashed them against the countertop, then pressed his hands into them over and over again, grinding them into crumbs. The muscles of his shoulders worked methodically up and down until the crumbs were fine and evenly sized. He opened the bag and poured them into a bowl, working in the melted butter gently with his fingertips until the consistency was right to press them into a crust at the bottom of the pan.

He rinsed his hands off and then set to creaming the sugar with the cream cheese and eggs. The whir of the electric mixer was soothing calm. His left hand on the edge of the bowl to hold it steady, he looked at the ring on his finger. Did he want it there? Was it the right choice?

His panic was gone now, but he didn’t know whether it would return. He still lacked certainty. When Blaine was there, everything was gloriously good. But when Kurt was alone with his thoughts, there was so much doubt. What was the right answer? Was Blaine his anchor, holding him steady to what he knew in his heart was right? Or was Blaine singing a siren song to him, clouding his judgment whenever he spoke? Shouldn’t he know? Wasn’t this the kind of thing people should be sure about? Was the fact that he was uncertain a sign that they should slow things down?

He poured the cheese mixture on top of the crust and set his creation gingerly in the oven. There was nothing to do now but clean up the dishes and wait. He put on some music and hummed softly to himself, trying not to think too hard.

When the timer rang, he slipped two oven mitts onto his hands and opened the oven door. He gripped both sides of the cake pan and pulled it carefully out of the oven. He set it on the countertop and shook it, gently but firmly, from side to side. The outside of the cheesecake was set, adhering firm and solid to itself. The middle jiggled, not completely liquid, but most definitely not solid either.

A novice baker would put the cheesecake back into the oven, thinking it wasn’t done cooking. But Kurt knew that a cheesecake would continue setting as it cooled. The right balance was necessary, and there was no measurement for it. Kurt jiggled the pan again, watching the ripples move without breaking the surface. His intuition told him it was ready. He put the mitts back in the drawer and turned off the oven. There was nothing left to do but let it cool and see whether the center would set properly.

He leaned back against the counter and took a long breath. He couldn’t take his eyes off the cheesecake. It would take hours to cool, first on the counter and then in the refrigerator, before it was ready to eat. There was no point in standing here and watching it. But as he stared at the smooth surface of it, shining in the middle where it wasn’t quite set, he thought of Blaine.

Maybe planning the future was like this, too. The edges were set. Their love for each other was solid and unchanging. But there was still wiggle room. There was space for the two of them to grow together, to create themselves with each other instead of on their own.

Kurt’s phone was in his hand before he realized he’d taken it out. “Blaine? Sometimes I’m not sure. About whether getting engaged was the right thing to do or not. But I’m sure about us. I’m sure it’s what I want. I want us to make it work, no matter how scary it seems sometimes.”

“I’m nervous too,” Blaine said.

“You are? But you always sound so certain.”

“That’s because I hold on to the one thing I know for sure. That I love you, and you love me too, and no matter what happens, our love is going to get us through it. Because it’s worth it. I don’t know what’s going to come in our lives, but I know that whatever it is, I’m going to face it with you by my side.”

Kurt took a deep breath. He felt peace and love settling deeper into his bones. “Hand in hand, forever.”

“Forever, Kurt.”

“Forever.”