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Not long before the sun goes down, Kurt escapes to the veranda out the back of the barn. He settles on the top of the creaky old steps and wraps a hand around one of the pillars to steady himself. There’s no one out here. Everyone is still inside – talking too loud, hands pressing too close, a never ending windmill of bodies spinning around him – but out here there’s no one. The clean, cool air is the best reprieve from the muggy heat of the party. For the first time all afternoon, he can take a breath. It’s quiet and empty, and out here he feels more balanced, less like he’s going to vibrate into a million pieces from all the overstimulation.
It’s a beautiful sunset – a mass of dark purple clouds drifting over a fierce orange backdrop. Kurt wants to stay out here forever, watch the orange turn to dusk turn to indigo, and just think. All the years he spent marrying off his Power Rangers and pretending it was him, he never expected that his own wedding would feel so... suffocating.
That’s being uncharitable. He’s happy, happier than he can even describe, and he feels all the more overwhelmed because of it. He can smile, and dance, and laugh, and cling so tightly to Blaine’s – his husband’s – hand and none of it is fake, not one bit. Walking down that aisle with Brittany on his arm felt like he was floating, like he was made of air, and he’d never felt so sure of anything in his life. He’d held Blaine’s hand on the podium, and he’d forgotten the existence of everyone else in the world.
He twists his ring on his finger.
Underneath that beautiful, glowing happiness is an itch that he can’t quite reach. Buried just beneath the surface, he feels... panicked. Frenzied.
He’s been ignoring it so far, and it’s been so easy to ignore because Blaine was beside him and his eyes were so bright and his smile looked like it might burst off his face it was so wide, but now he’s alone with the cool night air and it’s like acknowledging the panic gives it room to live.
He has no idea what he’s doing.
Just as the sun dips below the surface of the horizon, the fly door behind him clacks open and a sharp shock of music blares out before the door cuts it off again. Two heavy steps and then a groan as his dad lowers himself onto the step beside him.
‘Hey dad,’ he says.
‘Hey kiddo,’ Burt says.
He seems happy to sit in silence after that, but Kurt knows that he’s just giving him the chance to start the conversation first. If there’s anyone in the world who knows him just as well as Blaine, it’s his dad.
Kurt twists the ring on his finger.
‘Am I making a mistake?’ he asks.
Burt shifts beside him. ‘Could be,’ he says after a moment. ‘That’s up to you, buddy.’
Kurt takes a breath, and all the fears that have been building up in his head burst. ‘It’s just – you and Carole were talking about making the most of every day and Brittany wanted us to marry and Blaine wanted us to and I wanted it, but it’s crazy, I mean, we only just got back together and we didn’t even talk about this, shouldn’t we have at least talked about this? And we couldn’t make it work last time and who’s to say we can make it work this time and what if being married is terrible, what if we hate each other next year, what if we screw up again, I just – ‘
‘Kurt,’ Burt interrupts, and places a soothing hand on his shoulder. Kurt expels his held breath slowly and tries to calm his fluttering heart.
‘First of all,’ Burt begins, ‘you are going to screw up again. Both of you. That’s what being in love is, buddy. You make mistakes, you grow from them, and you love each because of and in spite of it. What’s that – what’s that show you like, help me out, Lucille – ?‘
‘I Love Lucy?’
‘Yeah, that one. You think Lucy and Ricky never hated each other? You think they never wanted to hide thumbtacks on the other’s side of the bed some nights?’
‘There was probably an episode about that,’ Kurt says drolly.
Burt gives him a look. ‘My point is, kiddo, that that doesn’t mean that they didn’t love each other just as much as they always had. And they stayed in love because they worked for it. And that’s what you and Blaine gotta do too, or else it’s all gonna fall apart.’
Kurt sighs. ‘I just – I know. I do know. And I keep telling myself that what happened last time won’t happen again, but what if it does? Only this time it would be worse because getting married means that we’re promising that it won’t happen, so it’s just humiliating when it does.’
‘Are you ever going to stop loving Blaine?’ Burt asks him patiently.
‘No.’
‘Then calm down,’ Burt says firmly. ‘You’ve never been afraid of hard work, Kurt. You know that you and Blaine can do this thing. You knew that when you said your vows, and you gotta keep knowing it in fifty years time. Don’t over think things, or else you’ll be too afraid to do anything at all.’
He knows that his dad is right, because he can’t even remember the last time his dad was wrong about something. It doesn’t stop it from being scary, but the panic is his chest feels sleepier. He feels calmer, like the doubt is giving way to a larger rationality. He loves Blaine. Staying away from Blaine isn’t an option for him, wasn’t even when he tried to convince himself it was, and that’s never going to change. His love for Blaine is one of the foundations of who he is. It’s immutable, unchangeable, and as long as Blaine always feels the same way in return... they can do this. He just has to remember that, and he’ll be fine.
Things always seem so much clearer when he has his dad to talk him through them.
Kurt sighs and twists his ring. ‘If Finn was here, he’d hit me on the shoulder and tell me to stop being so stupid.’
Burt huffs a tiny laugh. ‘If your mother were here, she’d kiss you on the forehead and then tell you to stop being so stupid.’
It’s a lump in his throat, that it was never going to be perfect. He doesn’t mind the fact that he got married in a barn, in a suit that he didn’t choose, with another couple standing beside him. He figures that it’ll be a story to tell at the dinner table to embarrass their kids when they have friends over in the years to come. But he could have planned for fifteen years and it was never going to be perfect. There’s no BFG stumbling around on the dance floor, treading on everyone’s toes and apologising with a big open smile. And he adores Carole, but he’d give anything for his mother to be here to kiss his temple and tell him that she loves him, even just one more time.
He misses them.
Burt clears his throat. ‘I have something to give you,’ he says. He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a smooth, oval piece of metal. It looks almost like a locket, but it’s too thin. It has an inscription on it – rough, shaky symbols that say 1989 and a tiny love heart below that.
‘Your mother found this piece of metal on the side of the road on our wedding day,’ Burt explains quietly. ‘And she took it home with her and inscribed it the next day. And after that, she’d take it with her to all of our friends’ weddings, as a sort of good luck charm. I found it half hidden beneath the carpet the other day, and I thought I’d continue the tradition today.’
Kurt runs a finger over the inscription, feels the tiny uneven bumps of the metal. The lump in his throat doubles in size.
‘I want you to take it, Kurt,’ Burt says. ‘Keep it and continue her tradition, and know that just cause she and Finn are gone, that doesn’t mean they can’t be with us in the most important moments. Okay?’
Kurt’s fingers close around the metal and blinks back tears as he nods. ‘Yeah,’ he says thickly. ‘Yeah. Of course.’
Burt is silent for a moment, and then runs his hand over Kurt’s shoulder again. ‘She’d be so proud of you,’ he says softly. ‘So would Finn. You’re following your heart, Kurt. That’s not a mistake.’
‘I know,’ Kurt whispers. ‘I... thank you, Dad.’
When they hug, it’s as comforting and safe as it always has been.
Burt pulls back after a moment and claps him on the knee. ‘Alright, buddy, this day isn’t about being sad,’ he tells him. ‘You go back in there now and find your husband and dance with him some more, okay? I’ve gotta go check that Carole isn’t falling over with all the alcohol yet.’
Kurt climbs to his feet and takes a fortifying breath. Inside, the heat and the sound and the brightness of the party are a slap to his senses after the cold night air, and for a moment he feels almost disoriented. The crowd engulfs him immediately, a living, breathing animal, but it doesn’t take him long to find Blaine dancing with Sam and Mike. And the moment he sees him, there’s that surety, the simple truth that this is the right decision to make. Just the sight of Blaine settles him, calms him, quashes the drowsy panic in his chest completely.
Blaine is... everything. Blaine is broad smiles and kind hands, a bright heart like paint spattered on a blank wall (crimson and plum and diaphanous orange, like amber, or tea, or the exact shade of his lovely autumn eyes). Kurt loves him. He is so richly, vibrantly alive, and Kurt loves him. He loves his uninhibited grins and tactile nature. He loves the way he wears his feelings on his sleeve, the way he values heart over mind. He loves his passion, and his pure heart.
Blaine’s eyes meet Kurt’s across the room, and his entire face lights up. He says an inaudible goodbye to Sam and Mike and begins weaving his way through the crowd to get to Kurt, who waits and feels his heart thud faster the closer Blaine gets.
He loves Blaine.
Marrying him could never be more right.