Imagine...

Kurt and Blaine walking down the corridor to their New York appartement when Blaine suddenly stops and sweeps Kurt into his arms.

Kurt, giggling, exclaims: "Blaine! What are you doing?"

"I made a promise today. I promised to carry you through all of the hardships for the rest of my life... isnt that what a husbands supposed to do?" Blaine answers as hes carrying Kurt over the threshold.

Kurt smiles happily as if he cant believe he actually married handsome, gorgeous Blaine today - and it just feels damn right.
Today - in this moment - he won.

They look deep into each others eyes, telling one another what no words ever will be able to express.

Kurt starts giggling again, so Blaine asks "What?" with a laugh because he loves the way Kurt chuckles.

"You know what a husbands supposed to do as well?" Kurt responds with a naughty smirk.

"Tell me." Blaine demands curiously.

"Fulfilling all Vogue-related phantasies of his husband during wedding night..." Kurt grins with a sensual look.

Blaine laughs, "Certainly!" and shoots him a seductive glance.

Leaning in for a passionate, but still gentle, satisfying kiss Blaine shuts the door closed with his foot.
Excited for tonights night and all the years hell live with Kurt by his side.

Years filled with holding Kurts hand in public, frustrating girls by telling them hes already married, snuggling up to each other at the couch while eating ice cream and watching Musical DVDs in the middle of the night, provoking a lawsuit with the neighbours cause of their karaoke-marathons with Rachel and Sam, singing flirty duets together - and not only on Christmas -, having numerous discussions about Blaines out of fashion clothing (even though Kurt will give in everytime cause secretly he falls for Blaines bow ties), having Kurt paying for Blaines coffee and Blaine surprising Kurt with flowers every now and then... and years of kissing Kurts delicious, warm mouth with those soft lips and checking out his well-shaped butt when Kurts about to go to work, leaving Blaine alone at the breakfast table thinking with a grin to himself

That ass is mine - legally.