Chapter Text
“There’s too many light colors here, they are in dire need of some depth,” Kurt said, surveying the home. “Pastels are for spring. It’s September.”
“Stop reading into this with your Vogue eyes, sweetheart,” Blaine replied playfully. “This is Ohio, not New York.”
Pastel blue and pink garlands lined the driveway of the Blazes’ house. The home was the perfect size for Becky and Darrel, a small ranch with light brick siding and a deep brown roof. Cars lined the Lima neighborhood, all coming to celebrate the gender reveal of baby Blaze.
“Who else is here?” Kurt asked. He had been surprised to receive the invitation a few months ago, but Blaine reminded him that they had been friends with Becky for quite some time. They sliced a bit of time out of Blaine’s show schedule and Kurt took time off from work so they could come back to Lima.
“The Sue-tourage, definitely. Tina and Artie were invited but they couldn’t get away from work,” Blaine replied, turning off their baby blue CR-V.
Kurt dropped his head back over the head rest of the passenger seat. He let out a groan. “I have no desire to see Sue today. Or ever.”
Blaine turned and reached into the backseat to grab the present. “It’s only a few hours, you’ll live.” He turned back to give a quick kiss to his husband. “Besides, we’re seeing Mr. Schue tonight! You’ll have something to look forward to.”
“I guess,” Kurt smiled. He opened the car door and quickly ran around to the driver’s side to open Blaine’s before he could. “My good sir,” he said, offering his hand. Blaine accepted and stood up. He pulled Kurt down for a kiss, meeting in the middle of their tiny (but mighty) height difference.
“Break it up, gaybirds!” shouted an angry voice.
Blaine pulled away in annoyance to see a tracksuit-clad 6’0 frame. “Nice to see you too, Sue.”
“Porcelain, Mrs. Porcelain, I’d like to invite you into Becky and Darrel Blaze’s fine home. This is not a slobberfest, this is a gender reveal, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d treat it with the PG respect it ought to have,” Sue rambled. “I will go inside and retrieve my whistle if you are not inside and congratulating the happy couple in the next ten seconds.”
“Going!” Kurt exclaimed. He turned to his husband and whispered dragon lady before running towards the front door. Sue patted him on the head as he ran past her.
“Good job, Lady Trousers,” she smiled. Blaine ran after him, gift in hand, as Sue patted him on the head as well. “Lost the gel, did ya?”
“No, they confiscated it at TSA for being over three ounces,” he sighed.
“You should go through TSA more often.”
~~~
“Thank you all for coming, it truly means a lot that you’re here!” Darrel said, raising his pink polka dotted Solo cup.
“We have some cupcakes for everyone, but first Darrel and I are going to do these confetti poppers to reveal our baby’s gender,” Becky said happily, rubbing her round belly.
The partygoers cheered, and Sue’s daughter, Robin, had her mother’s signature look on her face. “Everybody shut up!” yelled the eight year old, with her mom’s feathery blonde hair in her eyes. Becky gave her a high five and she went back to playing with her putty.
Becky and Darrel started a countdown as the crowd joined in. Blaine grasped Kurt’s hand, picturing them holding the confetti blasters as they got to one. Maybe someday, Blaine thought.
The Blaze living room was showered in blue confetti.
~~~
Dinner at the Schuester house was always organized in a way that suggested Emma had prepared for every possible outcome of the evening -- natural disaster included.
The table was set with precise symmetry: folded napkins, matching plates, and a centerpiece that looked more like it belonged in a magazine than a home where a three-year-old lived.
Which, Kurt thought as he stepped inside, was already being tested.
“Uncle Kurt!” A four-year-old Danny barreled forward with the full confidence of someone who had never considered personal space as a concept worth respecting. His reddish blond curls bounced as he ran.
Kurt bent immediately, catching him before impact. “Hello, sir,” he said gravely. “Have you grown since last time I saw you or are you just standing on books now?”
Danny giggled like this was the funniest possible explanation and promptly buried his face in Kurt’s shoulder.
Blaine laughed softly behind him, carrying in a small gift bag that had already been inspected twice by Emma at the door for safety purposes.
Danny looked up and saw Blaine, clutching his knees. “Uncle Blaine! Your hair matches Dad and me now!” He looked at the gift bag dangling from Blaine’s fingers. “Is that for me?” he gasped.
“Hi Danny,” Blaine chuckled, crouching slightly so he was eye-level. “We brought something for your sisters too!”
At the mention of them, Emma appeared from the kitchen like she had been summoned by a carefully timed alarm. “The twins are asleep,” she said quickly, as though apologizing for the concept. “For now. If the universe cooperates.”
“That’s… hopeful,” Kurt said.
“It’s delusional,” Emma corrected, but she was smiling.
Will came in behind her with a dish towel over his shoulder and the expression of a man who had accepted chaos as a long-term roommate. “We’ve got pasta, salad, and whatever dessert Emma decided was emotionally necessary today.”
“I made emotionally necessary lemon bars”
Kurt sat down, still holding Danny on his lap now that the toddler had decided he belonged there permanently. Blaine took the seat beside him, glancing around the table with an easy fondness that Kurt noticed immediately. It was the kind Blaine only got in spaces where he felt safe enough to relax into himself.
Danny reached for Blaine’s fork. “That’s not yours,” Blaine said gently.
“It’s shiny,” Danny argued.
“I know it is” Blaine said. “But it is still not yours.”
Danny considered this, then turned back to Kurt. “Can I have yours?”
Kurt handed it over without hesitation. “He negotiates aggressively,” he told Blaine.
“I see that,” Blaine replied, amused.
From the other end of the table, Will watched all of this like a man observing a sociological case study in real time. “So,” he said carefully, “how’s New York treating you two?”
Kurt made a small sound that suggested Vogue was both a blessing and a curse.
Blaine, on the other hand, smiled. “Broadway’s busy. The good busy.”
“Same,” Will said. “Principalling is… loud busy.”
“Parenting is just loud,” Emma added, appearing again with two bottles balanced expertly in one hand and a plate in the other.
As if on cue, a noise drifted from down the hall. Both Aurelia and Maggie had woken up mid-nap cycle with the determination of people who had very strong opinions about being left alone. Will and Emma stood up in perfect sync and ran towards the girls’ room. Danny played with his trucks on the table
Kurt glanced at Blaine. “We should probably tell them we’re impressed.”
“We should,” Blaine agreed. Then, quieter, after a beat: “It makes you think, though.”
Kurt didn’t respond right away. Danny was now stacking bread rolls like architectural components on his plate, fully absorbed in his work.
“Yeah,” Kurt said finally, lightly. “It does.”
Blaine looked at him then, a glance that lingered a second too long to be casual.
Then Will and Emma reappeared juggling two red headed babies on their hips, and the moment folded back into the rhythm of dinner.
But something had shifted.
~~~
Back at the Hummel house, Kurt felt like he was in a graveyard. For the last few years, every time he came home, Kurt felt a presence over his shoulder. Maybe it was the pictures of his brother everywhere, maybe it was the wall that he shared with Finn’s room turned guest room, but it was unsettling. He hadn’t told his dad or Carole about it, but Blaine knew.
Even sitting in the driveway, Kurt was holding his breath. It had been ten months since they’d stayed at their house for Christmas. Blaine took Kurt’s hand and kissed it softly.
“You can do this,” he assured him.
“I know I can,” Kurt breathed out. “It’s just hard.”
Blaine left the passenger seat and went to the trunk to get their suitcases. They’d gone straight to the gender reveal when they drove from New York, so the bags had been in the trunk since this morning when they left the motel in Akron. Blaine picked up the suitcases two at a time and shut the trunk. He looked up to see Kurt leaned up against the closed driver side door, arms crossed across his plum button-down.
“Have I ever told you how hot it is when your arms flex?”
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “That was a quick tone change.”
Kurt shrugged and walked over to take his suitcase from Blaine. He took a deep, shaking breath and walked up to the front door. Blaine followed, ringing the doorbell.
The door opened before the second ring finished echoing.
“Blaine! Kurt!” Carole’s voice carried immediately, warm in a way that made Kurt’s shoulders drop before he could stop them from doing it.
She pulled them both into a hug at the same time like it was the most natural thing in the world. Kurt hugged her back automatically, one arm around her shoulders, the other still gripping his suitcase handle like he might need it for emotional balance.
Behind her, the house smelled like roasted chicken and laundry detergent--familiar in a way that made Kurt’s chest tighten more than he expected.
Burt appeared a second later, wiping his hands on a towel. “Hey, kid. Hey, Blaine,” he said simply.
Kurt nodded. “Hey, Dad.” It was never a big greeting with Burt. It didn’t need to be.
Inside the house, everything was exactly as it always had been--too normal in a way that made Kurt hyperaware of what wasn’t there. The framed photos on the wall hadn’t changed, except for one new one Carole had added near the staircase: a family picture from last summer, everyone smiling in the sun.
Finn wasn’t in it.
Kurt noticed that immediately, even though he told himself he wouldn’t. It had been over five years, but he always noticed.
“You guys thirsty?” Carole asked, already moving toward the kitchen. “We’ve got water, tea…”
“Carole, stop bombarding,” Burt smiled. “Let’s sit down.”
Kurt walked towards the sofa, sitting quietly. Blaine sat beside him without hesitation, their shoulders touching lightly in a way that felt like a quiet anchor.
For a while, the conversation stayed easy; Broadway schedules, the tire shop, the kind of updates that filled space without asking for anything in return.
Kurt found himself relaxing in increments, like a muscle remembering how.
But every so often, his eyes drifted to the hallway leading toward what used to be Finn’s room.
Now a guest room. Now just a room. Still not nothing.
Blaine’s hand shifted slightly on the table, close enough that Kurt could take it if he needed to. Kurt did, without looking down.
Blaine squeezed once. Not a question. Just there. That was something Kurt had come to notice more and more over the years: Blaine didn’t try to fix the way Kurt felt in places like this. He just… adjusted his distance. Stayed where Kurt could reach him if he needed to, never far enough to feel abandoned, never close enough to feel trapped.
When Carole finally stood and declared that everyone was “absolutely exhausted and pretending otherwise,” Kurt almost laughed.
“I am not pretending,” Burt said immediately.
Carole looked at him. Burt sighed. “I am slightly pretending.”
“Good,” Carole said, satisfied. “Because I’m going to bed.”
The decision seemed to settle over the room like a curtain drop. Chairs scraped back, dishes were gathered, the house shifting into its nighttime rhythm.
Upstairs, the hallway light was warm and dim, the kind of lighting that made everything feel softer than it had any right to.
Carole handed them towels from the linen closet like it was instinct. And it was, in a way. Kurt had to keep reminding himself that Carole was something of a mother to him. “You’re in the guest room at the end,” she said. “Same as always.”
Kurt nodded, taking them automatically. “Thanks.”
Burt lingered for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at them. He scratched the back of his neck. “You two good?”
Kurt hesitated. Blaine answered first. “Yeah. We’re good.”
It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth either.
Burt seemed to accept that. He gave a small nod, the kind that meant I’m here if you need anything, even if he didn’t say it out loud. Then he disappeared toward his own room, footsteps heavy and familiar on the stairs.
The house quieted quickly after that.
Upstairs, the guest room was already made up -- clean dark purple sheets, folded blankets at the foot of the bed, a buffet lamp left on low like Carole had thought about them being too tired to want darkness right away.
Kurt set his suitcase down beside the dresser and stood there for a second longer than necessary.
Blaine closed the door gently behind them.
The click sounded louder than it should have. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Downstairs, the last sounds of the house settling faded into silence. Up here, it was just them. Kurt finally exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath since the driveway.
“Okay,” Kurt said quietly. Blaine didn’t move right away. He looked at him for a second longer than usual, like he was making sure Kurt was actually here, actually okay, not just performing “fine” the way he sometimes did in this house.
Then Blaine nodded once, almost to himself. “I can still see it,” he said gently.
Kurt blinked. “See what?”
Blaine’s eyes flicked, briefly, toward the hallway. Not toward Finn’s room exactly. Not pointed. But aware of it in the way Kurt always was, even when he tried not to be.
“How heavy this place gets for you,” Blaine said.
Kurt went still. It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t any kind of pity either. It was just an observation. One that was held carefully in Blaine’s hands and not dropped.
“I’m fine,” Kurt said automatically, then paused, like he heard himself. “I mean--”
“You don’t have to be fine,” Blaine interrupted softly.
That landed quieter than anything else. Kurt looked down at his hands. For a moment, the room felt too still. Too full of everything it wasn’t saying out loud.
Blaine stepped closer, slow enough that Kurt had time to move away if he wanted to. He didn’t.
“I keep thinking about dinner,” Blaine said after a beat. Kurt glanced up at him. “At Will and Emma’s,” Blaine clarified. “Danny. The twins. The way it exists for them. Even when it’s loud, even when it’s messy, it’s still… theirs.”
Kurt’s throat tightened slightly, unexpected.
Blaine swallowed, then let out a small breath through his nose, almost a laugh but not quite. “And I keep thinking,” he continued, quieter now, “about how you looked at it.”
Kurt frowned faintly. “What do you mean?”
Blaine’s gaze held his. “Like you were already halfway there,” he said.
Silence. Kurt’s fingers flexed once at his side, like his body had reacted before he could decide what to do with that feeling.
Blaine reached for him then. Not grabbing or pulling, just taking his hand the way he always did when he was trying to be there for Kurt.
“I know this house makes things come up for you,” Blaine said carefully. “About Finn. About family. About what’s missing and what isn’t.” Kurt’s eyes stung, sudden and unwelcome. Blaine didn’t flinch at that. Just stayed.
“But I also know,” Blaine continued, voice softer now, “that it doesn’t just make you sad. It makes you think.”
Kurt let out a shaky breath, almost a laugh at how accurately that hit him.
Blaine nodded slightly, like that was what he needed to hear. “I’ve been thinking too.” Kurt looked at him. Blaine’s thumb moved slowly over Kurt’s knuckle. “About what you said at dinner,” he continued.
Kurt’s breath caught a little. “I didn’t say anything at dinner.”
Blaine smiled faintly. “You didn’t have to.”
That did it. That softened something in Kurt’s expression without him meaning to let it. Blaine took a small breath.
“Do you ever think about us,” he asked gently, “starting a family?”
The question didn’t land like a demand. It landed like a door left open. Kurt, for the first time since they had pulled into the driveway, didn’t immediately know how to answer.
Tears welled up in his blue-green eyes. He took his hands away from Blaine’s and sat down on the edge of the bed like his legs finally remembered they were allowed to rest. Twisting his wedding ring around his finger, Kurt thought for what felt like a long time. Blaine didn’t sit next to him, instead he opened his suitcase, giving his hands something to do while the room settled around them. He pulled out a folded shirt then paused, listening more than moving.
“I’m not saying no,” Kurt said quietly.
Blaine looked over at him immediately.
Kurt swallowed. His voice came out steadier than he felt. “I mean… this isn’t something we can answer in a single conversation in a guest room in Lima after a gender reveal. And I don’t want to say yes just because it feels like the right moment,” he added, softer now. “Or because I’m emotional. Or because--” His breath caught slightly. “Because we’re here.”
Blaine set the shirt down. Slowly. He crossed the room and sat beside Kurt, close enough that their shoulders touched, but not pushing further than that.
“Okay,” Blaine said.
Kurt let out a shaky laugh that didn’t really have humor in it. “That’s it?”
Blaine nodded once. “Yeah.”
Another pause. Then, more carefully: “I don’t need an answer right now, Kurt. I just… needed to know if you ever think about it the way I do.”
Kurt glanced at him. Blaine’s eyes were steady, but not intense.
Kurt exhaled. “I do.” The words came out quieter than he expected.
Blaine didn’t react big. No sudden relief, no dramatic shift. Just a small softening in his expression, like something inside him had unclenched. Kurt kept going before he could stop himself.
“But when I think about it, I don’t just think about wanting it,” he said. “I think about how. And when. And what it would actually look like for us. Two men. Our jobs. Our lives. The cost. The process. The waiting. The possibility that it doesn’t work the first time, or the second, or at all…” His voice wavered slightly, and he stopped.
Blaine shifted closer then, just enough that their knees brushed. “We don’t have to solve it tonight,” Blaine said gently.
Kurt let out a breath through his nose, looking down again. “I know.”
A silence settled between them. Still, but not heavy. After a moment, Blaine spoke again, quieter.
“I just keep thinking about what it would feel like,” he admitted. “To come home and… and have that. With you.”
Kurt’s chest tightened at that. Not painfully, just deeply.
Blaine reached for his hand again, threading their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“And I know it’s complicated,” Blaine added. “I know it is. I’m not pretending it isn’t.” He squeezed Kurt’s hand once. “But I didn’t want to keep it to myself anymore.”
Kurt looked at him then. Really looked. And something in his expression softened. He felt seen.
“I love you,” Kurt said, like that was the only thing he could safely put in the room without it breaking.
Blaine smiled, small and real. “I love you too.”
Kurt leaned in first this time. It was not rushed, not desperate, just drawn. Their kiss wasn’t a derailment. It was a pause button. A quiet agreement that this wasn’t something they were solving tonight, but it was something they were building toward together.
When they pulled apart, Blaine rested his forehead lightly against Kurt’s. “Come on,” Blaine murmured. “Let’s get ready for bed.”
Kurt nodded once, and for the first time that night, the house felt quiet in a way that didn’t press on him so hard.