Neither one of them could remember how they got on this topic.

They had slowly made their way through the artful arrangement of rolled meats and cubes of cheeses with the accompaniment of crackers and hummus, and were now starting in on the colorful array of fruits, ranging from plump red grapes to cuts of juicy watermelon to strawberries that had been shaped into flowers with a blueberry accent in the middle.

Blaine looked thoughtful for a moment, chewing on a strawberry with his brow furrowed. He rolled onto his back, stretching out on Kurt’s favorite fleece throw, which they had spread out on their living room floor an hour or so earlier. The dying firelight from below the mantle danced through Blaine’s dark hair, making his locks shine with its last few flames.

“We’re talking overall, right?”

Kurt watched him contentedly from across the blanket, where he was laying on his right side, head in his hand, propped up on his elbow. “Yes. Overall. As in, generally.” He took a swallow of champagne, eyes brightening in the darkness when Blaine rolled back towards him.

“Got it,” Blaine declared. “I like you best when you’re sick.”

Kurt almost choked on a grape. “What?” he cried in disbelief. He rolled his eyes affectionately. “How romantic, honey.”

Blaine was grinning, having anticipated this reaction. “Hear me out,” he encouraged. He took a swig from his own champagne flute, then faced Kurt, sitting up and fixing his attention fully on him.

“First,” Blaine began, “it’s basically the only time I get to see you for an entire day during the week.”

Kurt conceded that point with a nod; it was definitely true, what with his hectic work schedule. Blaine was temporarily working part-time only, tending to the needs of their infant and their house and their lives when not at work, while Kurt succumbed to crazy long hours at his design studio downtown.

“Second, you still have that weird blanket that you had when we were in high school – the one that snaps closed around you like a Snuggie, but you insist is so much cooler because it’s handmade and doesn’t have an awful camouflage design.”

Kurt grinned. He could recite that defensive explanation in his sleep due to how many times he’d given it over the years, whenever Blaine lovingly teased him for secretly hoarding his own brand of Snuggie, which of course Kurt considered a total abomination of the fashion world.

“But what I like best,” Blaine continued, and his tone shifted into something more serious, “is that when you’re sick, you need me.”

Kurt immediately opened his mouth to reply in protest, but Blaine went on without missing a beat. “You’re strong, Kurt,” he said, undeniable admiration in his voice. “You’ve always been strong. You’re young and healthy and smart, and fiercely independent. You don’t need me.”

“Blaine—“

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” Blaine cut him off gently. “I’m not saying it right, but…what I mean is, you don’t really need anybody. Everything you have done since graduation, you could have done on your own. You didn’t, obviously, because I was with you and your family supported you and all that, but you honestly didn’t need us. Anything you wanted to do, you could have done on your own and you would have been just as successful as you are now.”

Kurt stared at Blaine for a moment, not knowing how to respond. His first instinct was to argue, to say No, that’s not true, of course I need you, not only because Blaine was his husband and they’d made their life together, but also because it was the truth, because some nights he couldn’t sleep with the thought of losing Blaine, of not having him resting there right next to him. Some nights he’d stay awake just to watch Blaine sleep, just to revel in the gratitude that he had this wonderful man always by his side.

But he understood what Blaine was trying to say. Blaine was giving him more credit than he deserved, really – but that was just how Blaine saw him. Blaine had always viewed him as someone who didn’t let others push him down, as someone who could face life and all its hardships head-on. He knew that Kurt was equipped with the type of strength that let him prevail in his endeavors, no matter the obstacles in his path.

It was an amazing compliment that Blaine had probably been formulating since they were seventeen.

Kurt reached his free hand out and clutched Blaine’s, squeezing. Blaine smiled and linked their fingers together.

“Anyway, it’s a whole different story when you get sick,” Blaine continued with a grin. “You get your blanket and my sweatpants and spend the whole day on the couch, watching Singin’ in the Rain and about ten other musicals back to back. You let me feed you and hold you and sing to you, which admittedly, you let me do that on other days, too. But it’s especially adorable when you’re sick, because you’re lying there wrapped up like a mummy with a stuffy nose, trying to hum the songs under your breath when you’re really too tired to do much of anything. And usually you just end up falling asleep in my lap and drooling on our couch pillows.”

Kurt had been grinning during Blaine’s speech, but the minute he finished, Kurt warmly grumbled out, “I do not,” in reference to his accidental driveling habit, which only made Blaine double over with laughter. There were quite a few of Kurt’s sick day drool incidents tucked into their past, which apparently Blaine looked back upon with adoration, while Kurt would rather just forget them altogether.

Blaine’s laughter died down quickly, and he cleared his throat. “You let me take care of you,” he said softly. “You haven’t bothered with moisturizing and you’re not worried about work and you let me take care of you.”

Kurt gripped Blaine’s hand hard, knuckles almost white, as a wave of emotion came over him. “You always take care of me,” he assured sincerely, almost forcefully. “Whether I’m sick or at work or at the grocery store or in Ohio. You always take care of me, Blaine.”

Blaine smiled, his eyes crinkling. He brought Kurt’s hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, which caused Kurt’s grasp to relax. “Your turn.”

Kurt let out a deflating sigh. How could he possibly follow that?

He dropped Blaine’s hand and rolled onto his back, much as Blaine had done. He plucked a small slice of melon from the tray between them and munched it whole, thinking. It didn’t take him long.

Kurt turned back to his side, propping his head up again. “I like you best on your days off,” he said, eyes twinkling in the firelight. “When I come home from a long work day, and you’re standing in the middle of the living room holding the baby.” Kurt gestured to where they were sitting right now, which was approximately where he’d find Blaine on such a day. “You haven’t combed your hair at all and there’s spit-up on your shirt and I’m pretty sure you’re burning whatever it is you’re trying to cook for dinner. But I walk in and you look up at me and smile, and it’s then that I know we’ve made it.”

Blaine looked curiously back at him, intrigued.

“You always smile at me like you’re the happiest person in the world, even when everything around you is a mess,” Kurt clarified with a tiny laugh. “You smile and I smile and it’s then – right then – that I know that there’s nobody who could keep us from this happiness. That despite everyone in Ohio – everyone in the world – who has ever told us we can’t have what we want, we have it.” Kurt locked eyes with Blaine through the dim light separating them. “We have it, Blaine. We have happiness.”

It took Blaine a moment to reply, and his voice wavered as he spoke. “Yes,” he agreed. “We do.”

Kurt sat up and pushed the tray to the side, so he could move closer to Blaine, bringing his hands up to cup Blaine’s face. They gazed at one another, Blaine’s eyes a little watery. Kurt grinned at him as their noses brushed.

“Happy Anniversary,” he whispered, eyes falling shut. “I love you.”

Blaine brought his arms around Kurt’s waist, pulling him closer. “I love you, too,” he murmured back, then kissed Kurt, mouth sweet from fruit and champagne.

“I think,” Kurt mused when the kiss broke, “that this is the start of part two of our anniversary date.”

“Oh yeah?” Blaine raised an eyebrow. “What’s part two about?”

Kurt looked at him from under his lashes, his voice dropping a couple notches. “Part two is when you take me to your bed and ravish me for the rest of tonight.”

“Oh,” Blaine said knowingly, not batting an eye. “I think I can manage that.”

They both stood, and Kurt leaned down to grab the champagne bottle, which only had a quarter of the alcohol left. He hooked their empty glasses in two of his fingers, then straightened and took Blaine’s hand with his other. Together, they tiptoed down the hall, past the baby’s room into their bedroom.

“Guess what?” Blaine whispered conspiratorially, as he gently pushed Kurt against the inside of the closed door.

Kurt smiled in the darkness, amused. “What?” he whispered back.

Blaine was flush against him, body heat seeping through Kurt’s clothes. He fiddled with Kurt’s belt buckle, nuzzling his cheek with his nose. “Right now, I think I’ll like you best when you’re naked.”

Kurt laughed adoringly under his breath, setting the champagne aside on his nightstand, then moving back to help with the slow removal of his clothing. “And tomorrow morning,” he said into Blaine’s ear, angling his face so Blaine could kiss the hollow underneath his jaw, “I’ll like you best when you bring me breakfast in bed.”

Blaine snorted good-naturedly, leaning back to kiss him soundly on the mouth. “Deal.”