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i.
Exactly four hours before the Musical Theater department faculty meeting, Kurt receives an email detailing the classes he will be teaching that upcoming semester. Which means that Kurt has exactly four hours to stew in anger about it, and four hours to build up one of the most dramatic entrances to a faculty meeting he’s ever given.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks as he walks in, shoving his printed out schedule in Blaine’s face. Blaine barely glances at it, his lips curling into a little smile as he sips his coffee.
“I would assume it’s your fall semester class schedule Professor Hummel,” he says calmly, eyes flicking up to Kurt’s and shining with mischief, “Is there a problem with it?”
“Is there a – yes, there’s a fucking problem. Why the hell do you have me teaching four bi-weekly MMT classes?”
The corner of Blaine’s lips just keeps going up and up, “Are you all still using that silly term?”
“Yes, we fucking are, because these Mandatory Musical Theater classes are the bane of our existence and calling them by their full name is a bit of a mouthful when you’re ranting.”
“You did just fine now.”
Kurt shouts in frustration and turns on his heel, storming over to the other side of the faculty breakroom and falling into the seat farthest away from Blaine. He can hear Blaine chuckling to himself and the few other present professors whispering quietly amongst themselves. He crosses his arms over his chest and crumples up his schedule in his hand. He’s going to have some words with Carmen about this, that’s for sure.
Ten minutes later the rest of the Musical Theater department professors have arrived. That is to say, the head of basically every other department at NYADA have arrived, as well as the two professors who actually teach subjects specific to musical theater. God, Kurt hates these meetings.
Ever since fucking Blaine had the absolutely wonderful idea of creating a Musical Theater major he’s hated these meetings. Nobody other than Blaine and Rachel actually want to be here, most of them still knee deep in preparation for the upcoming semesters, and not a single person every leaves these meetings happy. A quick glance around the room lets him know that the majority of professors are also rather pissed at the schedules Blaine has emailed out.
“Are we all here?” Blaine greets, standing up and clapping his hands together. Nobody answers him, but he still smiles and begins, “Let’s just jump right into it, shall we?”
“Yeah, let’s,” Kurt spits, glaring daggers at the other man, “Let’s start with my bullshit schedule, how about that?”
“Now, Kurt, come on, there’s no reason for that kind of language.”
“Actually,” Sam clears his throat and stands as well. His wife, Mercedes, looks just as disgruntled as Kurt is, sitting next to Sam with her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed in Blaine’s direction, “We’d like to talk about our schedules as well,” he points between himself and Mercedes.
“I was kind of hoping to do the same,” Tina says, though she doesn’t stand. There’s a couple more murmurs of assent, and Blaine sighs.
“Okay, I guess we’re starting here today,” he rubs his hands on his jeans and exchanges glances with Rachel, “It has come to Rach and my attention that none of you have actually been teaching any of the Mandatory Musical Theater courses. You’ve just been pawning them off to whichever professor is the newest in your respective departments.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, “That’s because MMT’s are absolutely awful,” he spits out, “We all know it. None of the students actually give a shit about those classes, and most of them aren’t even that great in them. Do you know how frustrating that is?”
“I do, actually,” Blaine says, not even a hint of bite in his voice, “I’ve had to deal with disgruntled Theater and Vocal Performance majors who couldn’t give two damns about musical theater in my classes for about ten years now. If Rachel and I can deal with it for ten years, you guys can deal with it for one semester.”
“You can’t just take over our schedules like this,” Kurt says, “Carmen is making me cut back to five classes a semester so I can spend more time dealing with the rest of my department. That means I only have one class I get to choose for myself, and I don’t even get to do that because I always teach Dance 101 during the fall semester. You’ve literally fucked up my entire semester Anderson.”
“Look, I knew this was going to be frustrating for some of you, but we thought it was in everyone’s best interest-”
“This is not in my best interest!” Kurt shouts, “Teaching every single MMT this semester is in none of our best interests. I’m a fucking dance professor, not a musical theater professor.”
“You’re part of the musical theater department,” Blaine says, still entirely calm. Kurt could kill him.
“Because of you. Because you shoe-horned your stupid major into all of our departments and forced us all to make at least one of our professors teach some dumbass MMT every single semester despite the fact that literally all of us hate it. And now you’re going to make us, the heads of every department, waste an entire semester on students that aren’t even ours? You’re deluded.”
There are quiet murmurs of agreement, but Blaine just smirks, “We thought you’d say that,” he says, exchanging an amused glance with Rachel, “Which is why we’ve created another schedule for all of your departments that you may find less… frustrating.”
He walks around the room handing out schedules, pausing when he reaches Kurt and sending him a coy wink. Kurt scowls.
When he looks down at the schedule he finds a frustratingly good compromise. Instead of him teaching all four MMT classes this semester he’s only teaching one – the senior class, thank god. Mike is teaching the freshman class, Brittany the sophomore, and Santana the junior. Kitty, the prof he usually shoves most of the MMT’s to, isn’t teaching a single one.
“We’re tired of you making one professor teach all the Mandatory Musical Theater courses,” Blaine says, “It’s why we specifically asked Carmen to put them all in one semester this year. These are your options. You either spread the mandatory courses out amongst your entire department, or you teach them all yourself. The choice is obviously up to you.”
Sam looks down at the schedule and shakes his head, “Goddammit Blaine. Way to manipulate the shit out of us.” He’s grinning though, as is Mercedes.
Blaine shrugs, “It was Rachel’s idea,” he says, “Let us know your decision by the end of the day, as we have to send Carmen a finalized Musical Theater schedule by midnight so she can begin assigning classrooms. If we don’t hear from you by nine, we will assume you’re teaching all the classes yourselves.”
“As much as I’m loathe to admit it,” Kurt says, leaning back into his couch and crossing one leg over the other, “It’s a pretty good idea,” he smirks, “Good job Anderson.”
The rest of the profs stare at him in confusion, and Kurt knows that not a single one of them will argue with Blaine’s plan now. Blaine sends him a private smile, and Kurt winks at him.
“Alright,” Blaine says, “Now that that’s cleared up, let’s talk about the actually important stuff.”
ii.
“Professor Hummel?” Kurt looks up from the sheet music he’s looking over, raising an eyebrow when he sees one of his senior musical theater students standing in his doorway, “I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”
Kurt shakes his head and wordlessly gestures to the chair in front of his desk. The student, a girl by the name of Marley Rose, scurries to the chair, cheeks bright red.
When she doesn’t speak for at least two minutes he asks, “Is there something I can do for you Miss Rose?”
“Right,” she squeaks, “Um, I was just. My boyfriend and I have been working on our tango, and-”
“Stop,” he puts his hand up, “You and your tango partner are dating?”
“Um. Yes?”
He shakes his head, “You can’t be partners anymore,” he says, opening a drawer and rifling through it, trying to find the list of his tango pairs, “I’ll be reassigning both of you immediately. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
“Wait,” she says, eyes wide, “Can you… can you not do that? I just. The dance is kind of… sexual? And I don’t really feel comfortable doing it with anyone other than Jake. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I was hoping-”
“Stop again,” he says, “You don’t feel comfortable doing a somewhat sexual dance with anyone other than your boyfriend?” she nods and he snorts, “What, are you expecting that your boyfriend is going to be cast as your love interest in every musical you do?”
“N-No, that’s not-”
“Miss Rose,” he says, leaning forward, “The point of this school is to prepare you for a career in the arts. As a musical theater major, I can only assume that you intend on pursuing a career in musical theater. Do you know how many musicals involve ‘somewhat sexual’ situations?”
“I – I know, but-”
“How are you supposed to prepare for scenes of intimacy with a total stranger if you can’t even do a sexual dance with your boyfriend? Don’t,” he puts a hand up again when she opens her mouth to protest, “I know exactly where this meeting was going.” Her mouth snaps shut and he sighs, “Look, Miss Rose. It’s no secret that I despise teaching these musical theater dance classes, almost as much as you despise taking them,” she blushes and looks down at her lap, “The very least I can do is actually prepare you for the real world, seeing as I am most definitely failing to teach you how to dance.”
She doesn’t reply, her cheeks getting redder and redder by the moment.
“I’m going to assign you and your boyfriend new tango partners,” he says after a few moments of silence, “If you have a problem with that, take it up with Professor Anderson or Madame Thibodaux.”
She nods, but stays seated.
“Was there something else?” he prompts, trying not to sound too unkind. He fails, of course. He always does around these damn musical theater kids.
“No, sir,” she murmurs and high tails it out of his office. Kurt smiles to himself, makes a little note on the corner of his page to switch her partner, then goes back to what he was originally doing – looking over sheet music for things that are actually important to him.
He’s made about four little notes along the sheet music margins when he hears a knock on his door. He looks up, smirking when he sees Blaine standing in his doorway, glowering.
“Professor Anderson,” he says, “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Cut the crap Kurt,” Blaine says, “You need to stop terrorizing my students.”
“Who, me?” he puts his hands to his chest innocently, “What did I do this time?”
Blaine snorts, “You mean besides tell Marley Rose – who is one of my most promising students, by the way – that she can’t dance and she’ll never have a successful career?”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, “Seriously? She’s one of your most promising students? Geez, she must be really good at the written aspects of musical theater.”
“I told you to cut the crap,” Blaine snaps, “I’m being serious. Stop telling my students that they’ll never amount to anything. I’m getting tired of students showing up in my office, barely holding back tears, because of you.”
“Honey,” Kurt simpers, and Blaine scowls.
“Don’t,” he says, arms crossing over his chest. Kurt rolls his eyes.
“Blaine, none of your students can dance. None of your students think they need to know how to dance. Musical Theater students seem to think all there is to musical theater is singing and acting, and you know as well as I do that that isn’t true. I mean, they’re forced to take a dance class each year for a reason, right? It’s not my fault none of them take it seriously.”
“You could be nicer about it,” Blaine grounds out.
“Well that’s no fun,” Kurt pouts.
Blaine glares at him, shakes his head and points a finger, “Stop terrorizing my students,” he says, then turns on his heel and storms out of Kurt’s office. Kurt smirks as he watches him go, shaking his head to himself. He wonders how many more times he and Blaine will have this argument before Blaine realizes that he is never going to get his way when it comes to this.
Rachel peeks her head in the doorway and asks, “Everything okay in here?”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
She shrugs, “You and Blaine don’t usual shout that loud when you go at it. I’m just trying to keep the peace, you know how it is.”
“Oh,” he hadn’t realized that he and Blaine had been shouting, “No, it’s fine. We’re not going to start like, beating each other up in the middle of campus if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you two,” she says, leaning against the doorway, “Seriously. Will you two ever be able to get along?”
Kurt smirks, “Me and Blaine? Get along?” he purses his lips to keep his smile from spreading too large, “No way. Not as long as we both work here.”
“I’m not firing Blaine, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“I would do no such thing,” Kurt says, raising his hands in defense, “Do you need anything else?”
Rachel narrows her eyes a bit and says, “Yeah, actually. Stop terrorizing my students.”
Kurt laughs, and he sees Rachel’s lips twitch at the edge, “No promises, Professor Berry,” he says.
She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head as she leaves, but Kurt saw her smile the second before she turned. Kurt just chuckles and goes back to work on his sheet music.
iii.
“-heard the whole thing,” Kurt hears someone whispering as he walks down the hall of the Garland building. “Professor Hummel called Professor Anderson ‘honey’. It was so condescending, I’m surprised Professor Anderson didn’t clock him.”
Kurt pauses, glancing to the other side of the hallway, where a pair of girls are gossiping.
“Do you think Professor A would do that?” one of the girl asks, her eyes wide. The girl shrugs.
“Who knows? For all we know he could be some kind of championship boxer or something. But he didn’t. He just yelled for a while and then stormed off. He looked really steamed.”
“Geez,” the first girl shakes her head, “How did you overhear this again?”
“I had to talk to Professor Jones about changing the date of my voice projection evaluation,” the second girl says, “I don’t know why anybody thought it would be a good idea to put Professor Hummel’s office anywhere near Professor A’s. All they do is snip at each other.”
“Yeah, no kidding. I wonder why they hate each other so much.”
“Who knows. I heard that Professor A had sex with Professor Hummel’s mom.”
Kurt can’t help but laugh out loud at that one, “Professor Anderson had sex with my mother?” he says loud enough for the girls to hear. They both turn, eyes wide in shock and – in the case of the first girl – fear. “Now, there’s one I’ve never heard before.”
“Professor Hummel,” the girl telling the story says, swallowing thickly, “I – You – I –”
He takes a few steps toward them, “You two are in my Dance 402, aren’t you?” Dance 402 was his senior MMT, the class he’d been stuck with during that scheduling debacle about a month earlier.
“Yes, sir,” the first girl says, looking about ready to pee her pants.
“Hmm,” he says, looking them over, “You need to work on your pirouettes,” he tells the first girl, then to the second, “You need to actually show up to class. I only have twenty students per class, I notice when they’re missing. I can’t teach you how to dance if you aren’t there,” both girls blush and nod, obviously too embarrassed to argue.
He gives them a couple more glances, then smirks, “Don’t gossip so loudly next time. You never know who can overhear.”
“Yes, sir,” the second girl whispers, all of her previous bravado gone.
He starts to leave, then turns one last time and says, “Oh, and hey. If you hear that rumor about Professor Anderson having sex with my mom, could you please shut it down? I know you all like to speculate about what kind of crazy, dramatic life he must lead outside of your classrooms, but he’s a history professor at a school for the arts. His exploits aren’t nearly that dramatic.”
They both nod quickly, and Kurt debates whether or not to say this, but decides to go for it, “Besides,” he says, “I’m sure Professor Anderson’s husband wouldn’t be very happy to hear about his relationship with my deceased mother, don’t you think? Best keep it on the down low.”
The girls’ jaw drop, and they shake their heads slowly, their eyes wide in surprise. Kurt smirks, and continues on his way, hearing slightly quieter whispers of, “Professor A is married?!” and “I knew his ring wasn’t just a family heirloom!”
He reaches his own classroom with a huge grin on his face. Honestly, he can’t wait until Blaine barges into his office to shout at him about boundaries. He simply cannot wait.
iv.
He’s quite early to his next class, which is why he can’t help but stop and watch when he notices the door to Blaine’s class wide open. Blaine is pacing the room, hands waving excitedly as he explains something about musical theater that would most likely be of more interest to his sixteen year old self. Still, it’s fascinating to watch. Despite their long running feud, Kurt has never stopped and actually watched Blaine teach.
The class is obviously winding down as Blaine bounces on the balls of his feet and asks the class if anyone has any questions. Kurt has to press his lips together to keep from smiling. No matter how crazy the other man drives him, he will never understand how all his students come up with these insane theories about him. How anybody could think that someone like Blaine had some sort of dark, sordid past… it was beyond him.
Although he was a bit interested in the championship boxer theory.
Blaine points out somebody in the class, and Kurt rolls his eyes at the way Blaine address the student by name. Seriously, how could all his students make dumb shit up about him behind his back? Just because he wasn’t as forthcoming about personal information as other professors didn’t mean anything. He obviously cared about his students and was passionate about what he taught. That’s really the only personal information any student needs about their professor.
“Is it true that you’re married?”
Kurt’s eyes widen. He didn’t expect that piece of information to spread that quickly. Of course, this was NYADA. He feels a bit silly for thinking otherwise.
“Excuse me?” Blaine asks.
“Well, it’s just that I heard you were married and I was just wondering if that was true.”
Blaine purses his lips and looks to the other side of the room, “Does anybody have questions about The Golden Age of musical theater?” he asks, side-eyeing the student who asked. Kurt smirks a bit. Blaine’s better at the Super Mysterious Man thing than Kurt expected.
A couple of students have questions about the Golden Age, which Kurt barely pays attention to, instead focusing at the way Blaine answers each question. He’s detailed, but not long winded. He doesn’t make a single student feel stupid, even though the sounds of chuckles after several of the questions imply that they are. Not making students feel stupid, especially musical theater students, is something Kurt struggles with. Something he hasn’t done much to attempt to remedy, honestly.
Blaine announces the class is over, and Kurt scurries out of the way, not wanting to be caught.
v.
He’s drinking coffee in the faculty break room, chatting with Sam and Mercedes about their upcoming fifth wedding anniversary when someone slams the door open. The three of them glance over to look at Blaine, already spitting mad. Kurt straightens his back, excited. He didn’t think Blaine would pick such a public space to call him out.
“I need to have a word with you,” he says, stalking over to Kurt. Kurt blinks up at him innocently.
“Me? What on earth could you need to talk to me about?”
“Don’t play dumb, Kurt, I know you told my students I was married. How many times do I have to tell you-”
“Wait,” Sam slams his hand on the table, “You’re married?!”
Blaine groans, “Do you see what you’ve done?” he asks Kurt, glaring.
“Why do you assume it was me?” he asks, smiling widely.
“Don’t start with me,” Blaine points an angry finger, his arm close to his chest, “I’ve told you a thousand times, there are boundaries Kurt.”
“Can we go back to you being married?” Mercedes asks, “Because, for real, you’re married?”
“Yes, I’m married,” Blaine says, rolling his eyes, “I wear a ring, it’s not exactly some big secret.”
“Then why didn’t we know about it?” Sam asks. Kurt raises his eyebrows at Blaine, feigning confusion as well. “Actually, let me rephrase that – why is Kurt the only one who knew about it?”
Kurt smirks, “I know Professor Anderson’s husband quite well.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Blaine says, throwing his arms in the air, “I’ve made it very clear that I want to keep my work life and my personal life separate, and it’s not your choice to just-”
“Blaine, sweetie, I know you’re mad,” Mercedes says, “But I just keep coming back to: you’re married?!”
“Why is that such a surprise?” Blaine asks, “Most of you are married, hell most of you are married to people on faculty here! Hell, even Kurt’s married, so I don’t see why you’re all so shocked by this.”
Shit. Kurt hadn’t counted on this coming back to bite him in the ass so quickly. Mercedes and Sam turn on him, their eyes even wider than before.
“You’re married?!” Sam shouts, “What the hell is happening right now?!”
Kurt shrugs, “Like Professor Anderson, I wear a ring. It’s not a huge secret. I enjoy keeping my private life private as well,” he says, sending Blaine a cool glare. Blaine shrugs, entirely unapologetic.
“This is unbelievable,” Mercedes says, “You know before today I knew exactly four facts about both of you?” Kurt raises an eyebrow, and she nods in confirmation, “Yep, I know Kurt loves dance, I know he despises musical theater, I know he despises Blaine, and I know he’s an absolute terror to his students,” Kurt smiles proudly, “And I know that Blaine loves musical theater, that he loves his students, that he has some weird feud going with Kurt, and that he refuses to be set up on a blind date with Sam’s old football pal Sebastian.”
“Guess we know the reason for the last one,” Sam mutters.
Blaine sighs, “Just…” he groans in frustration, “I told you, Kurt. Boundaries.”
Kurt salutes him, “You got it chief.”
Blaine shakes his head and stalks off, muttering angrily under his breath. Kurt watches him go, smirk finding its way back to his face.
“One day you’re going to tell me why that poor man hates you so much,” Mercedes says, “Because he has been nothing but kind to every other professor here since he started.”
“Guess I just rub him the wrong way,” Kurt says, going back to drinking his coffee. Mercedes and Sam glance at each other and shake their heads. Kurt looks back at where Blaine just left.
That went far better than he expected.
vi.
“Okay,” Rachel claps her hands together as soon as everybody has taken their seat around the faculty lounge, “I’m glad that everyone’s here. Now, I know we usually only do these at the beginning of the semester, but seeing as we scheduled all of your MMT’s into one semester this year, Blaine and I thought it would be a good idea to discuss the pro’s and con’s of our little experiment before we all went off for break.”
Nobody speaks for a while, but eventually Sam clears his throat and stands up, “Well, a pro for me was I gained some respect from the professors in my department. Since there’s only two Stage Combat MMT’s, I decided to just teach both of them myself, and honestly it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought. Plus everyone in my department loved me for it. So… yeah.”
“Excellent, Sam,” Rachel says, “I’m so glad to hear it.”
“Another pro,” Mercedes chimes in, “Is we won’t have to teach any MMT’s next semester,” she shrugs, “It’s kind of nice to have them out of the way to be honest.”
“We thought that was something you all might appreciate,” Rachel says, sharing a conspiring smile with Blaine, “This is fantastic, who else has something they would like to share?”
“Well, this doesn’t really have much to do with the MMT’s,” Tina says, standing up, “But we all discovered an important personal detail about Blaine’s life,” she grins at everyone, “I think it was about damn time, don’t you guys?”
Everyone cheers, except for Kurt and Blaine, who both roll their eyes.
“That is very true Tina,” Rachel says, “But does anyone else have any comments about the program?”
There’s a couple more, mostly positive comments, although there’s a few negative. Kurt doesn’t contribute, not wanting to admit that this ended up working well for him in the long run. Kitty adores him now, and the rest of his department have agreed to rotate throughout the years and semesters who takes the MMT’s, ensuring that nobody will ever have to teach more than one a year ever again. Blaine and Rachel don’t need to know that though.
Rachel spends about ten minutes waxing poetic about how glad she is that this worked out for everybody, and “See, the Musical Theater department isn’t so bad after all!” Kurt feels a yawn coming on. He has a final exam to supervise in an hour and he was kind of hoping this meeting would be shorter so he could squeeze in a bit of a nap between now and then.
“I think that’s all,” Rachel finally declares, clapping her hands together, “I think overall we all had a wonderful semester. I can’t speak for Blaine, but most of my students agreed that their MMT’s this semester were far less awful than they’ve been in the past.”
Everyone cheers half-heartedly, then start to get up and leave. Blaine clears his throat before anybody can walk out the door, “Actually I have one last thing to say.”
Nobody interrupts him, so Blaine begins, “So, obviously it came out this semester, thanks to a certain someone,” he glances in Kurt’s direction, “That I am in fact married. Now, I’ve tried my very hardest to keep my private and my professional lives separate, but after much discussion with my husband we’ve decided that it would be best if I allowed all of you a little peek into my private life. We’ve been colleagues for over ten years, after all. It feels about time,” he starts walking around the room, handing small pieces of paper to everybody.
“What’s this?” Tina asks, looking down at hers suspiciously.
“It’s an invitation,” Blaine says, handing one to the professor next to Kurt, then skipping him entirely and giving one to the professor on his other side, “My husband and I are celebrating twenty five years of marriage in a few days.”
“Twenty five years?!” Rachel shouts, “You don’t even look forty five yet!”
“I’m actually exactly forty five, but thank you Rachel,” Blaine says, smiling, “We got married young, and we’re very excited about the upcoming celebration. We would love if you would all be a part of it.”
Everyone looks over the invitation, and Kurt doesn’t have to glance at one of his neighbors to know exactly what it looks like. Plain, with only a date and an address printed on it. It holds their attention more than Kurt expected it to.
“This doesn’t look like the address to a venue,” Sam says, “Are you like, inviting us to your house?”
“Yes, I am,” Blaine says, “Like I said, I think it’s time.”
There’s a general murmur of excitement, and many people stop before leaving to tell Blaine that they will most definitely be in attendance. After what feels like an eternity only Kurt, Blaine, and Rachel are left in the room. Rachel tells Blaine that she and her own husband will most definitely be in attendance, then glances over at Kurt, who has stretched out along the couch and is getting ready to doze off for a few minutes.
“Kurt, where’s your invitation?” she asks.
Kurt groans, “Didn’t get one,” he says.
“What?!” she turns on Blaine, “You didn’t invite Kurt?”
Blaine shrugs, “I didn’t think he would want an invitation,” he glances at Kurt, and Kurt sees the mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Given our working relationship, you know.”
“Still, Blaine, you invited everyone in the Musical Theater Department and I really think it would nice of you to invite Kurt as well.”
“It’s okay Rachel,” Kurt says, “Blaine’s right, I don’t need an invitation. Now, can you both get out of here? I want to rest my eyes a bit before your senior students destroy all my faith in the dancers your department produces.”
Blaine rolls his eyes, but leaves. Rachel looks indignant, but soon follows him out. Kurt laughs to himself, sets an alarm on his phone, and finally manages to doze off.
vii.
To: Kurt
From: Rachel
I know we aren’t as close as Blaine and I are, but I would like to think that over the years we have cultivated quite a friendly work relationship. That is why I am letting you know that I will not be attending Blaine’s anniversary party if you do not attend as well.
Kurt rolls his eyes as he reads Rachel’s text message. It’s the fourth she’s sent him over the past couple of days, and regardless of how many times he says he doesn’t care she still keeps bringing it up.
To: Rachel
From: Kurt
Rachel. Go to the party. You’ll understand why I wasn’t invited when you get there.
She doesn’t reply, which Kurt is thankful for. He has enough on his plate without worrying about Rachel’s melodrama.
“Everything okay in there?” his husband calls out from where he’s been decorating the living room. Kurt places the guacamole dip in the center of a plate full of chips and carries it into the living room.
“All refreshments are ready to go,” he announces, pecking his husband on the cheek on his way to the dining table. “Decorations?”
“See for yourself.”
Their living room does look incredible. Much better than Kurt thought it would. There’s a giant banner across their window that announces Happy 25th Anniversary with their names underneath, as well as several streamers and balloons hung around the room in the same color scheme. Simple, yet festive. Just as his husband promised.
He walks over to his husband and wraps his arms around him, “I love you,” he says quietly, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss.
“I love you more,” his husband replies, giving him a wide, dimpled smile, “Happy anniversary.”
“Happy anniversary,” Kurt kisses him again, only parting when the doorbell rings.
His husband raises both eyebrows in excitement, “Showtime!” he says, heading over to the door.
Kurt’s father and step-mother are the first to arrive, carrying gifts that are far too large for Kurt to feel comfortable with. His husband’s family comes next, his parents and brother having flown in together and taken a cab directly from JFK to their apartment. A couple of their mutual friends arrive soon after, and Kurt is in deep conversation with a high school friend, Unique Adams, when the first of his husband’s guests begin to arrive.
“I hope you know,” Rachel Berry’s voice pierces through the crowd, “That I am only here out of my respect for you, and because Kurt absolutely insisted. I was entirely dedicated to skipping this event unless-” her eyes catch Kurt’s across the room, “Kurt!” she says, face falling into a frown, “You’re here. I thought you said you didn’t want an invitation.”
Kurt chuckles, “Actually, I said I didn’t need an invitation,” he corrects, “This is my party too, after all.”
Rachel’s frown deepens, and Kurt just nods to the banner on the other side of the room. She looks up and her eyes widen as she reads it, “Happy 25th Anniversary Kurt and Blaine?!” she shouts, “You guys are married to each other?!”
Blaine joins Kurt, his arm automatically wrapping around his waist. It feels so strange to do that in front of Rachel Berry, “Surprise?” he tries, giving her a winning smile.
“But-” Rachel stutters, glancing between them, “I don’t – you two hate each other!”
“Do we?” Kurt asks, turning to Blaine, “Do you hate me?”
“Oh, I hate you very much,” Blaine replies, “Do you hate me?”
“Infinitely,” Kurt says, leaning down and connecting their lips in a kiss. He hears his dad chuckling in the background.
“You – kiss – is this a joke?” she asks, looking around the room, “Am I being punk’d?”
“Rachel, I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re not nearly important enough for that,” Kurt says, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Hey,” Blaine elbows him, “Be nice. This is our anniversary.”
Kurt just shrugs, and Blaine leans his head on his shoulder.
“I don’t understand,” Rachel says, eyes darting between them rapidly, “You act like you hate each other at work. Why do you hate each other at work?!”
Blaine shrugs, “Honestly? When I got hired at NYADA a few years after Kurt we wanted to keep it a secret so it wouldn’t look like I just got hired because of him,” he smiles up at Kurt, “Then we came in fighting one day and realized that everyone thinking we hate each other… kind of helped the images we wanted to exude at school.”
“It was actually kind of great,” Kurt says, grinning, “We could get out all our frustration at each other at work, and then we’d just love each other at home. Kind of the perfect situation, if you ask me.”
“You wanted to keep your work and private lives separate,” Rachel whispers, “Oh my god. I can’t believe none of us saw it!”
“Actually, I’m kind of surprised too,” Kurt admits, “There were times when we weren’t exactly being discreet.”
She just shakes her head and walks over to a couch, “I need to sit down,” she says. Her husband follows after her, offering Kurt and Blaine a quick congratulations as he goes. Kurt and Blaine chuckle and then share another kiss.
Kurt’s dad approaches them, “So. That’s why you never wanted me to come see you guys at work, huh?”
Kurt winces apologetically, “Sorry, dad,” he says, “We… we really wanted to keep our private and professional lives from blurring.”
“Yeah,” Blaine snorts, “Until blabbermouth here told my too most gossipy students that I was married.”
“Eh,” Kurt shrugs, “Maybe my subconscious was ready for this before my conscious caught up.”
“I’m glad we both caught up at the same time then,” Blaine says, “Although I have to admit, it’s going to be weird not to bicker with you at work anymore.”
“Mm, I know. No more pretend hate sex in your office,” Kurt pouts and his dad puts his hands over his ears.
“That’s my cue,” he says loudly, walking away, leaving Kurt and Blaine to laugh together.
“No regrets, right?” Kurt asks Blaine, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together.
“Just love,” Blaine agrees. Kurt bumps their shoulders together and fondly calls him a dork.
Their private reverie is interrupted moments later, when someone opens the door and Sam’s voice fills the room with a triumphant, “I knew it!”