Blaine lies nestled into Kurt side, one leg thrown over his hip, knee pressed up warmly into Kurt’s groin. His hand is skimming across Kurt's torso, counting his ribs, fingertips catching on the drying sweat on his skin. He wants to bite the curve of pectoral muscle resting under his cheek. Sink his teeth in and never let go.

He is perfectly content. He’s not thinking about Dave or Sebastian or Quinn or anything at all, save for the answer to an unasked question pressing urgently against his tongue.

Blaine rises up over Kurt, placing his hands on either side of his head. Kurt’s eyes are still closed, but he squirms against the bed, pressing closer to the pressure of Blaine’s knee, shifting to get the friction right where he wants it. He is so beautiful like this. Like always.

“Yes,” Blaine says, low and fervent.

Kurt hmmms a little, hips still moving, sliding his hands up Blaine’s sides. “Yes what?” He doesn’t remember asking Blaine anything, though the knee pressing into him is its own kind of question.

“Yes I’ll marry you.”

Kurt’s eyes snap open, impossibly wide. Blaine is looking down at him, eyes golden in the dim light of his bedroom, a tiny smile quirking the corners of his mouth. He is perfectly serious.

“Someday,” Blaine says.

Kurt remembers what he asked Dave to do and does the same for himself.

Looking into Blaine’s earnest, adoring eyes he sees them in ten years. He’s on Broadway, of course he is, and sometimes he and Rachel co-star together. Blaine’s a music professor at NYU and his students adore him, of course they do.

They have an apartment in Chelsea, but they’re thinking about getting a house. Partly because Blaine wants a dog - a big dog - and he wants the dog to have a yard to play in. And Kurt needs a bigger mantle for his Tonys.

Sunday mornings before Kurt’s matinee shows they pull themselves from their bed and shuffle down to the little cafe a few blocks from their place for breakfast and the crossword puzzle. Blaine steals Kurt’s fruit, but Kurt finishes off Blaine’s coffee.

He can see it so clearly, and even if it doesn’t happen exactly like that, if it comes close, he’ll be good.

Kurt laces his fingers around the back of Blaine’s neck and pulls him down into a slow, sweet kiss.

“Yes,” his whispers against his mouth. And he means it. “Someday.”