And baby makes three

In the NYC

Blaine sat cross-legged on the couch, massaging his aching hips as he waited for Kurt to come out of the bathroom.

He and Kurt were going out - where, Blaine didn't know, as Kurt refused to tell him - and he was both excited and nervous. Last time they'd "gone out", it hadn't ended particularly well. But he figured they wouldn't be going to Callbacks this time.

At least, he hoped they wouldn't be. There were too many bad memories there.

He listened happily to the sounds of Kurt moving around in the bathroom, running the tap to brush his teeth and the telltale sound of hairspray and cologne being sprayed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped the smell of it wouldn't make him sick. He couldn't afford to have any mishaps tonight, not when it was so important - not that Kurt knew, yet, or had any idea just how important it would be.

To say that Blaine was nervous about what might happen was an understatement. Nervous, afraid, anxious, apprehensive; all of those adjectives would be adequate to describe how he was feeling. He had absolutely no idea, given the new status of their relationship, - was it even a relationship anymore? - how Kurt would react. What he would say, if he said anything at all. What he would do.

Would he throw him out? Demand that he leave and go back to Lima immediately? Refuse to speak to him ever again?

That last option, it was more than Blaine was sure he could handle. The first few months after the initial break-up had been hell, so crippled with guilt and shame he could hardly breathe. He had no idea what he would do if Kurt rejected him now, a second time, and he was left alone again.

He only hoped that Kurt still cared about him enough not to do that. He had been adamant that they were "just friends", but deep down Blaine knew that that wasn't the case.

The bathroom door opened and Kurt came out with a flourish and a bright smile on his face, trailing a scent of soap and lotion and hairspray that drifted out from the open door.

"Ready?"

"Always." He got up from the sofa, wincing at the ache in his hips at the movement, and went for his coat.

It was a little tight around his middle when he buttoned it.

He had no time to dwell on it, however, because Kurt was at his side, still smiling and offering Blaine his arm, which he took gratefully, relishing the feeling of Kurt's warm body pressed to his side.

It was cold out, and he shivered a little in the frigid New York air; Kurt pulled his scarf tighter around his throat and Blaine wished he'd thought to wear one himself.

"So where are we going....?" he asked, as Kurt turned them round a corner and down a dark side-street with clusters of busy restaurants either side, warm orange and yellow light spilling from their doors and windows.

"I told you." Kurt said. "It's a surprise."

"Can I have a hint, at least?"

"No!"

He turned them round another corner. They were by a taxi rank, and a long line of bright yellow cabs stood in the light from a streetlamp.

Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"It's a surprise." Kurt repeated. "I'm not telling you, so stop looking at me like that."

Kurt motioned to one of the cabs and the driver inside cocked his head to let them know they could climb in. He handed the driver a slip of paper through the gap in the partition between the front and back seats. Blaine resisted the urge to roll his eyes; his curiosity was burning within him. Where was Kurt taking him?