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- Goodbye with the Car Lights Off Kiss
It’s Ohio, and if any gay couple knows they have to be careful, it’s Kurt and Blaine, because they’ve both lived here all their lives and they know what it’s like here.
But Blaine’s still at Dalton, as much as Kurt has asked him (he’s starting to go a little mad with Blaine’s ‘But the warblers are my friends!’ speech), and they really don’t get to see each other as much as they’d like to, with the distance and schoolwork and how Kurt’s stressing over his room because he’s planning to redecorate it soon, and he needs absolute silence to work out the correct shade of blue to match his complexion, so these moments are precious to them.
They went to the movies, had to just go as ‘friends’ of course, but it’s not like Kurt’s going to be comfortable enough anyway to start making out with Blaine at the back of the cinema - he’s always too worried about the other people there, anyway. Still, he does think about it, thinks about simply being able to hold hands on a date without the fear of vulnerability, because here, the love they share isn’t an easy obstacle to overcome. Not to other people, at least.
So it’s in the car that they can truly be themselves, Kurt driving Blaine home in his navigator and Blaine just looking at him like it’s the most natural thing to do, and Kurt is a little too aware of it, just keeps his eyes on the road.
Some way through the journey, though, his hand moves off the steering wheel, finds Blaine’s in the middle, clutches it. And they both don’t say anything, because nothing needs to be said. Kurt is just happy they have this time, now. They listen to Joni as she sings her high notes, ‘I’ve been to sea before…’ and push on, the relaxing sound of the car engine washing over Blaine’s ears, the calmness of late-night drives home putting him at ease. Kurt squeezes his hand as a signal pf finality before putting it back on the wheel, getting wary of the harsh darkness of the night. And Blaine looks out the window, wistful.
*
When Kurt drops Blaine off, a blocks down because Blaine’s dad is iffy about parking (they both know that’s not what he’s really ‘iffy’ about in that situation), it’s weird how there’s sudden silence - that silence signals the end of the journey, and Blaine already misses Kurt; Joni’s not singing anymore and Blaine’s heart pulls because he knows Kurt plays it because it reminds him of his mom, and Blaine loves the originality of the singer’s voice.
They turn the lights in the car off because it’s Ohio, they really do have to be careful and it’s nearly eleven, and Kurt reaches over again and grabs Blaine’s hand, notices how his face is shadowed by the moonlight, smiles lightly.
Blaine says, words blurring together slightly now he’s a little tired, “I’ll see you at the football game on Sunday?”
Kurt sighs, “Yeah. Not if I can help it.” and Blaine laughs, looks down and shakes his head. His watch beeps eleven ‘o clock, and it’s curfew now, and Blaine needs to leave.
“I… need to go.” He mumbles although it’s exactly the opposite of what he wants to do, and Kurt breathes in and nods, so adult-like the way he does it, like he’s always leading these situations like he’s grown up to be this way because he had to.
“I’ll miss you,” He says and the moonlight is the only light in the car, “See you soon.” and kisses Blaine, lingering for just a moment with the car lights off and the rest of the world quiet around them, and when Blaine pulls back he says, “Love you.”
Kurt smiles, “Love you too.” and Blaine opens the car door.
- The Shopping List Kiss, and engaged
“So we’ve got…” Kurt takes a moment to recount in his brain everything they need from the store, “peas, milk, wine…”
“Balsamic vinegar!” Blaine exaggerates, and it’s almost hysteric how Kurt can see him thinking back to the salad they had the night before, no dressing at all and basically just some salad leaves in a bowl.
“You know how expensive that stuff is…” Kurt trails off, but writes it down on his little A6 pocket notebook anyway because Blaine has a look of such desperation on his face like if he doesn’t buy balsamic vinegar it will be the end of the world , and clicks the top of the pen as he thinks again: don’t need any more flour, Blaine bought like two packs of that last week and then I cried over making him a Bakewell tart; don’t need any more butter, there’s still that weird vegan stuff in the fridge; we’ve already got orange juice…
Blaine says, interrupting Kurt’s thoughts, as boring as they may be, “Would you be so kind and get some full-fat milk instead of skimmed? It tastes like water, Kurt.”
Kurt looks at him, eyebrows raising, “Are you criticising my milk choices?”
“...Yes.”
“How does full fat even make a difference? It’s literally just milk.”
“It tastes like water! ”
The sound of a click on his pen again - Kurt’s fiddling with it as he presses it against the notepad, thinking thinking thinking. He says, “Only if I get a kiss first,” and raises his eyebrows expectantly and taps his cheek, and Blaine gets up from where he’s sitting at their tiny dining table, puts his hand lightly on Kurt’s forearm as he presses his lips to the skin with a loud smack, and Kurt laughs, “Fine.” and adds the words ‘full fat’ to where he’s written ‘milk’.
- Welcome Home Kiss, and husbands now
Blaine’s mind is a whirl of different worries, his bag filled with papers to mark and grades to give and there’s a lot to think about, recapping through his day; how his teaching assistant is off sick with some sort of awful flu thing and it’s hard, managing everything on his own when his kids can be so unpredictable and he is new to this. But he’s good at what he does. He knows that.
He’s barely moving consciously during his journey home, through the New York subway just like many of the other people here on their daily nine-to-five. It’s so relative to him now, this journey - he doesn’t really think about it anymore. He just knows that when he gets home, Kurt is actually going to be there instead of working late in the office - things have eased off a little since fashion week ended - and it’s an incredibly comforting thought, that when he gets home, there’ll be Kurt there, real and beautiful and there. Blaine thinks about what he might be doing, maybe he’s got the wicked soundtrack on, maybe his soft voice is singing sweetly to the melodies of Joni Mitchell’s voice - something that always reminds Blaine of when they were young, or maybe he’s making dinner, sizzling in the pan - his signature stir-fries are always delicious.
And Blaine is so happy he’ll be home.
*
He opens the door and there Kurt is, scrolling through his phone as he leans against the counter near the hob where there’s some pasta boiling (it’s rigatoni - Kurt will always lecture Blaine about how it is the superior pasta shape) and some sort of sauce on the go too, and if he listens closely there is Joni Mitchell playing in the background, and Blaine smiles because A Case of You will always be one of his favourite songs.
He drops his bag on the floor and puts his coat up on the hanger by the door, walks over to his husband and kisses him quickly. “Hey,” he says, “smells delicious.”
Kurt hums appreciatively, “Hmm. Welcome home.”