Title: What dreams are made of
Genre: college!au, romance, fluff, future!fic for this chapter
Rating: R for this chapter
Word count: 1315/7593
Notes: written for lsklainegleek who requested a fluffly college!au. Finally here’s the epilogue! In this part there’s only Blaine’s POV. As for the texts the ones written in italics are from Kurt and the ones written in bold are from Blaine- Finally, a special thanks to alianne who supported me through the writing process and proof-read this for me and simply is awesome! <3 I hope you enjoy <3
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters (if I did there would be so many more klaine scenes!)
Blaine doesn’t feel like waking up; he loves Sunday mornings, when Kurt doesn’t have to rush to work and has time to cook breakfast, when he usually doesn’t have rehearsals and can curl around Kurt, holding him under the blankets as long as he wants.
Right now Kurt is still asleep, hair tousled and a small smile on his lips. Blaine watches him and remembers the first morning they woke up together, legs tangled and arms entwined, in the small bed of his dorm room. That morning they had breakfast in a small café, in front of the huge windows, people passing by outside and pale winter sun shining, Kurt smiled the whole time, bright and beautiful over their cups of coffee, foot touching his under the table. In that moment Blaine thought he had finally learned what happiness meant.
Four years have passed from that January morning and Kurt still smiles at him that way when they sit at the small table in their kitchen, sleepy and full of love, and Blaine still feels the luckiest man on Earth. He thinks he’ll never stop feeling like this with Kurt by his side, which means he’ll feel like this until the day he dies because when he pictures his future Kurt is always there, waking by his side in the morning, kissing him goodnight and bringing him flowers after every performance.
He asked Kurt to live together right after their graduation from Tisch; he had practically been living at Kurt’s place, his clothes hang in the wardrobe beside Kurt’s and their toothbrushes side by side on the bathroom’s sink, but he wanted a place for them, a place where they could build a new life together.
When he gathered enough courage to ask they were sitting on a bench in Central Park, warm spring sun washing over them; Kurt had dropped the Styrofoam cup he was holding and hugged him tight, lips brushing against the shell of Blaine’s ear as he repeated “yes” over and over again. Blaine had held him tight, heart soaring.
They went house hunting together, hands swinging between them as they walked along the busy streets, hopes flying high above their heads, because the moment was come to move on from their university years, to take their dreams in their hands and morph them into something beautiful and they were doing it together.
The day they moved into their new apartment, small but cozy, Blaine made love to Kurt on the small air mattress they had brought with them. Kurt held onto him tight, their moans mixing and rolling over the wooden floor, echoing against white walls. As Blaine sank deeper and deeper, love burning along his veins and igniting his bones, he realized that Kurt was to him like a beautiful dream come true. A dream made of pale skin and soft lips, a dream who loved him and took his hand and didn’t let go.
At first they only bought the bed and a few pans and plates, waiting to save up more money to buy the rest. They ate sitting on cushions on the floor and cooked their meals on a small camp stove Burt gave them. It didn’t look like a normal house at all, but it was perfect nonetheless. They came back home to each other after long days spent doing internships and part time jobs- Kurt worked in a small café and Blaine in a little bookshop- and that was what mattered.
Showering together, Kurt gently washing his hair, falling asleep together; it wasn’t new but it meant so much more now that they were in their new house. The place where they learned and loved, the place where Kurt drew and Blaine composed; the lyrics of the songs he wrote for Kurt scribbled on crumpled paper and pinned to the walls of their bedroom.
Slowly they raised up enough money to start buying new pieces of furniture, new sheets and curtains, they definitely needed those. Piece by piece they kept making it theirs, piece by piece they learned how to work around each other even better than before, small things like Blaine passing Kurt a spoon or a glass without the need for Kurt to ask, or Kurt making sure to cook Blaine’s favorites after a difficult rehearsal. Small things and so precious Blaine’s heart was always on the verge of cracking because of all the happiness and the gratitude piling up inside of it.
Of course there have also been fights, slammed doors and yells, nights Kurt slept on the couch and Blaine had the feeling of drowning in the vastness of their bed. Times when their love was too big and cumbersome to react properly, when words hurt too much and pride prevented their hands from reaching out. Afterwards came hours spent talking, hands holding tight mugs of tea or of coffee, apologizes and promises. They always went back to their feet, the thread linking their hearts together stronger. Blaine hated fighting with Kurt, but loved the fact that from every fight they emerged with a deeper knowledge of each other, steadier on their feet, his love for Kurt engraved a bit deeper in his bones.
Kurt starts to stir and Blaine allows himself to lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead.
“Mmm good morning.”
Blaine smiles against Kurt’s warm skin.
“Good morning, love.”
Kurt blinks his eyes open, azure and grey and freckles of green, impossible to describe in a song, despite how hard Blaine has tried. Blaine presses closer, until every line and every curve of him fit against Kurt’s.
“You are so beautiful when you sleep, Kurt. Like something that isn’t supposed to be here on this planet.”
Kurt smiles, cheeks coloring and eyes glinting, his palm pressing gently against Blaine’s lower back to pull him even closer.
“Oh I think this is exactly where I’m meant to be.”
Blaine’s heart flatters like the wings of a small bird and he smiles before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of Kurt’s mouth.
Kurt makes love to him gently, long and slow thrusts, because they have all the time in the world today, today the universe is contained in the small space between their arching bodies and the whiteness of the sheets. Blaine feels too tight in his own skin, love simmering and rising, as every cell of his body seem to vibrate in sync with Kurt’s breath.
He’ll never get tired of this, of the way their bodies keep calling each other, sliding and entering and becoming one over and over. He’ll never get tired of the way being held by Kurt makes him feel, safe and happy and walking and breathing through a constant dream.
Kurt kisses him hard as he comes and everything overflows inside of Blaine at the feeling of Kurt pulsing inside of him, part of him as no one else can be or will ever be.
They spend the rest of the morning holding each other, caressing and kissing and whispering future plans and snippets of songs.
When his stomach starts to grumble, Blaine pushes himself out of bed and puts on a pair of sweatpants and a beany, ready to brave the winter afternoon to go and grab a couple of cappuccinos because they are out of coffee. Kurt accompanies him to the door and presses a small kiss to his lips.
His heart seems to float inside his ribcage, fill with love and adoration and sheer joy, pure and untamed. As he is making his way to the nearest café, he fishes out his mobile phone and types.
I love you so much words or notes are never going to be enough.
Good, because I don’t need words and notes. I simply need you (and that cappuccino, so come back soon!) <3