Title: Proposing
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to and including episode 12.
Words: 1400
Summary: Before, now and after: The story of how Kurt and Blaine didn't manage a perfect proposal.
A/N: Fluffy fluff in reaction to the new episode and Kurt being ohmygodadorable. With no porn. But fluff sappy fluff.

If Rachel asks you what you'd say if I proposed just let your eyes glaze over and DON'T give her an answer.

It's the most bizarre text message to get late one Friday night and Blaine has only been out of surgery a day and he's still mostly fuzzy-brained. So he just scoffs and is confused and tells his big brother all about it and then drops off to sleep.

A month earlier.

They are coiled up tight around each other. Multiple blankets over them, hands entwined, bodies close, the wood fire burning. It's the midst of winter and they've just come home to a cold, empty house and now they have to wait for everything to warm up.

"When do you want to get married?" Blaine mumbles into Kurt's hair.

Kurt doesn't feel his skin tighten or his back tense. He just nuzzles closer and mumbles, "In the spring."

"I mean what year."

Kurt huffs and thinks because even though the wedding has been crystal clear since forever ago and the husband-to-be has been clear ever since he met Blaine, the year in which to tie the knot is not. "Eventually," he says.

"No rush?" Blaine asks, his eyes slipping closed as he finds the perfect spot for his lips to rest against Kurt's neck.

"Why?"

Blaine mumbles something against Kurt's skin.

"Why, Blaine?"

He sighs and it's content, then he presses a kiss to the scratch of stubble at the angle of Kurt's jaw. "Just trying to picture it in my head."

Another happy hum and the silence stretches comfortably between them as the room slowly heats and they both start thinking about finding food and a movie and untangling themselves.

"What would happen if I proposed now?" Blaine whispers.

"I'd say yes." It's automatic and Kurt hears his teeth click shut after he says it.

Another silence stretches, just a little awkward and Blaine ponders whether this means he should.

Eventually Kurt wriggles and turns, finding space between them to lie face to face and raise up just a little on his hands. "I imagine it differently," Kurt mumbles. "If you asked now I'd be just a little disappointed."

"I wasn't going to—"

Kurt cuts him off with a quick press of lips to lips, a grin stretching his mouth as he pulls back. "Neither was I…" he huffs and his cheeks blush. "There's no pressure."

Blaine smirks, like he knows a secret and Kurt just smacks at his arm before dropping down close to him again, pulling the blankets tight across his back and around them.

Eventually Kurt starts again. "I imagine it being at the end of a brilliant day."

Humming, Blaine coaxes him on, eager to listen.

"Maybe you get some promotion or a really good grade in something or you get an audition. Or I do. Maybe I get my first big break. And we go out for dinner and get a bit tipsy and end up stumbling home."

There's another few minutes of nuzzling and the fire crackles away. Outside it starts to snow. "I don't even know who asks who," Kurt mumbles sleepily.

"You'd like me to ask though?" Blaine whispers, pulling him down and thinking a nap might be better than anything else.

"Bit or a fairy tale ending," Kurt mumbles back. There's another happy sigh and the exhalation of warm air up Blaine's neck and then a last snuggle and Kurt's slipping off to sleep.

Rachel pays a house call to Blaine a few days later. He's still reasonably happy from the pain meds and Kurt's been keeping a bedside vigil and soon Blaine will be back at school. But Rachel swans in and sets herself down with her usual flair. Kurt is out, picking up new magazines, if Blaine remembers correctly.

He just grins but sure enough, Rachel asks him after a few minutes of small talk: "What would you say if Kurt proposed?"

Kurt's had him practice and his glazed over eyes, his tilted upwards chin, his gaping mouth are spot on. Rachel assumes and keeps talking and Blaine sits there, self-satisfied smirk in place to have done what Kurt wanted him to.

Some years later.

He wants to play it perfectly. He's ummed and arred over so many days, so many almost-but-not-quite-perfect days. The day Kurt got top of his first class and Blaine turned up on his doorstep, unannounced, fresh from an exam in Ohio. The day Blaine joined him officially in New York. The day they played their first show together in the back room of the piano bar and had all their friends in attendance and got drunk and had sex in the empty cloak room.

There was the day Kurt was approached by the agent for an audition. The day he nailed the audition and was told to come back after he finished his degree. The day he graduated. The day Blaine graduated and Kurt seemed genuinely happier than ever. The random Christmas back in Ohio when it all just felt right. The day they got the apartment. Or the dog. Or when Burt visited and Kurt caught him looking a little teary eyed as he was shown around New York and Kurt held Blaine's hand tighter than ever.

But it was never quite right.

Then there was an innocuous Saturday. Early up and a long jog along their usual route with the dog. Back home and into the shower and then into bed and then long, languid, laughing sex. A nap. Lunch with friends, late in the afternoon. They read together on the couch, Kurt's feet ending up in Blaine's hands, his head tilted back as he moaned, mostly for show.

It was a late dinner at their favourite little diner. Their usuals and a bottle of wine and then they split a slice of cheesecake. They're wandering back when Kurt turns on Blaine suddenly and stops him with his hands against his chest. He drops to a knee and is pulling Blaine forward when he automatically steps back.

"Marry me!"

Blaine's eyes go wildly wide and he's pulling his hand back and saying past a grin, "No!" And then again, "Oh my god! No!" Kurt doesn't even really bother to look hurt, just waits. "No, no, no, no. Kurt! I mean, of course, but…No!"

Kurt's up and watching him as Blaine continues to freak out. "You…" Blaine runs a hand through his hair and he feels drunk off it. "Why tonight?" he asks.

Kurt just shrugs and pulls Blaine in, kissing him messily. "Just felt like it."

Blaine pushes him back. "No." Then it seems to click into place, what he's saying. "No, wait, not no. Just, not yet."

Kurt laughs at him.

Blaine actually turns on the spot and across the street there are a group of girls laughing and watching. "We're not engaged. I love you but give me some time."

Kurt just laughs again and it's not quite a bad thing yet because Blaine's pulling him close and walking them back towards home. He's not sure what's happening but it doesn't feel bad.

On the way to their apartment, Blaine's mind races. He can't believe it's just happened, like that. And then they're home and he's wondering what on earth to do. He meets Kurt, and Kurt's naked but what does it matter, in the bedroom. Kurt's just lounging there and grinning and it's meant to be a show of not being upset about the rejected proposal but it's a distraction.

Blaine crawls up the bed, fully clothed and ignoring the stretch of skin he'll never get sick of under his hands. He pulls from his pocket the ring he's had since his freshman year at college and holds it up between them.

"You wanted the perfect day," Blaine tells him. "We've had so many—"

Kurt cuts him off, pulling him down and kissing him hard, his hand meeting Blaine's and grappling for the ring. "Yes."

Minutes later, both of them blissfully naked and pressing and making more noise than they'd usually force their neighbours put up with, Blaine tells Kurt he had a whole speech ready.

Kurt asks him how long he's been waiting.

And Blaine tells him forever.

A half hour after that they lie naked under the sheets, coiled around each other close and happy and engaged and they come up with the story of how Blaine proposed. The perfect day with excitement and planning and the perfect proposal. They'll tell everyone that story before their grins break into giggles and they tell them the truth. Conveniently leaving out the nudity.