A/N: Now you, my devoted readers, have gotten a little taste of my usual writer's block. I apologize. I hope this is a great ending to this fic, which had received such enthusiastic love from all of you.

Kurt had managed to get twelve blocks away before Blaine caught up to him. If Blaine hadn't known where he was headed, he would have easily lost his husband in the crowds. He certainly was fast.

"Kurt! Kurt, stop!" Blaine was half-running to catch up with his husband, dodging and pushing people out of the way (as every New Yorker had at one time or another), but he couldn't catch up with him. Kurt didn't even turn around. Muttering to himself about obstinate husbands who refused to listen, Blaine ducked in one of his least favorite alleys, sprinting out of the dark space until he had cut Kurt off, almost barreling right into the lithe man.

"Leave me alone." Kurt's voice wasn't loud or angry, it was quiet and deadly-sounding.

"Not until you hear me out." Blaine figured Kurt could see this semi-logically, even as angry as he was, because it was honestly not Blaine's fault. "Please, you have it all wrong." In hindsight, this was a horrible thing to say.

"I have it 'all wrong'? Have what 'all wrong'? Your morals? Your sense of integrity? Your honesty? Oh wait, I forgot you don't have any of the above." Kurt turned on his heel to walk away, but Blaine caught his arm.

"Please," was all he said, but Kurt's eyes softened. Minutely, but it was there.

"You have two minutes, and don't touch me." Kurt pulled away his arm but stayed there, hands placed on his hips. Blaine took a deep breath, knowing the wrong thing could very well end the relationship they had going. Kurt started tapping his foot impatiently, and Blaine knew if he didn't start talking quickly than Kurt would either start counting down or withdraw from the conversation regardless of the remaining time.

"I love you," seemed to be a good way to start," and I'm sorry for everything that's happened between us." Blaine probably should have given a formal apology earlier, but, like they say, 'no time like the present.' Whoever 'they' were, they were idiots. "I'm sorry that I've hurt you, and I'm sorry that I hurt Sam, but I can't be sorry that things turned out the way they did. I had never even looked at that letter, I just started opening and ripping apart junk mail in anger when I got that letter from Sebastian. There was some ranting involved." Blaine scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, a nervous habit. "Everything that happened was my fault, and I'll admit that, but I didn't start this. I swear to you that I didn't start this."

"Why should I believe you?" Kurt asked immediately. "Why should I put my faith in the man that tore my life to shreds?"

"Because I've never lied to you." Kurt's face was both shocked and skeptical in reaction to Blaine's bold proclamation. "Yes, I teased you a little bit about us having a drunken one-night stand, but I've never seriously lied to you, and I don't plan to start now."

"Why did you do it?" Blaine raised an eyebrow, silently asking for more information. "Why did you do all of this? Why didn't you just divorce me, continue chasing after Sebastian, and forget this ever happened?" Fair questions, but Blaine didn't really want to answer them, especially not in the middle of a crowded street. Kurt clearly wasn't moving, ignoring the way the crowd split around them in response to the rolling waves of hostility coming off of the lithe fashion critic.

"I... I wanted revenge. I know it isn't mature, I know it wasn't the right choice, but I wanted you to feel what I had felt. I wanted you to know what it's like to have your life ripped out from under you. I wanted to knock you, your presumably smug personality, and your mostly-successful business down a peg... or, I don't know. Five." Blaine admitted all of this in a hurried rush, but Kurt understood what he was saying.

"Well, you succeeded." There was no sufficient response to that, so Blaine just waited. "Whatever-is-up-there, why are you doing this to me?" Kurt asked melodramatically, slumping his shoulders and letting his hands fall from his hips. "I'm starting to call into question everything I thought my life should be, would be. I thought I should marry a mild-tempered guy with a nice smile, not someone who could match me fire-for-fire. I thought I should become a fashion critic because that's what I spent most of my free time doing, maybe I should take all the fancy singing and acting techniques I learned at the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts and go on Broadway. Who even knows?"

Blaine answered Kurt's load of rhetorical questions with a kiss, trying to convey what he was feeling without words. The fashion critic melted into his embrace, kissing him back with the same kind of passion, but Kurt looked a little confused when he pulled away. "Anything you decide to do right now, I will always love you, want to be with you, and be here for you. No matter what. Even if you decide to become the second hobo that pisses in the fountain outside my office, I will be your devoted subject. If you become a pot-smoking hippy with an attitude problem who spends all day stealing bunnies from cosmetics companies trying to test products on them, I will clear the apartment of weed smoke every day and keep your rabbit cages hidden in my office." Kurt was laughing by the end of his overly-dramatic speech. Blaine overdid it to keep the mood light, but he meant every word.

"I love you," Kurt said finally, "and I'm ready to go home."

"I love you too," Blaine answered, taking Kurt's hand and releasing the lithe man from his embrace at the same time. Kurt and Blaine headed back the way they came, as if their little spat had never happened. "'My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late!'" Blaine quoted with a grin. "How romantic." The tycoon rolled his eyes. Kurt just smiled in response, squeezing Blaine's hand.

"I didn't use to believe in happy endings, you know," Kurt offered. Blaine didn't reply, unsure of what to say. "I do now, even after everything that's happened. My dad told me on the phone a few days ago that when you're in love, you don't sweat the small stuff."

Blaine couldn't help but snort. "I don't think two heartbroken fiancé's, one now in Tokyo, two independent businesses, and almost losing a deal for Vanity Fair counts as the 'small stuff'." 'Small stuff' must have a broader definition in the Hummel clan.

"I do," Kurt said with a smile, and Blaine couldn't begrudge him that.

"So, when do I get to meet the Hummel clan?" Blaine asked, wondering if he should be excited or terrified.

"First I have to tell all of them that I called off not only the wedding for a second time, but also my engagement. Next, I have to tell them that we're married. Only then does my dad get to point a shotgun at you and try to frighten you to the point you urinate in your pants." Kurt's grin was wide and quite terrifying in it's own right.

The twelve blocks Kurt had managed to run seemed a lot shorter, oddly, now that they were walking together. Before, Blaine had been so afraid that this was the end of a wonderful romance that time slowed, but 'time flies when you're having fun'.

"You need a key to this place, don't you?" Blaine asked as they bypassed the doorman with a wave. Kurt had only ever knocked on Blaine's door three times, but that couldn't happen all the time now that he was living there.

"I do," Kurt said as if it had just occurred to him as well. Blaine called the elevator as they stood to the side of the lobby, still hand-in-hand. "If we're really serious about me moving in here."

"Of course we are. I thought we established that last night." Please, Lord, not this argument again. Kurt was one of those people that was so stubborn he would stick to his point no matter how wrong it had been proven.

"I just thought, after this morning..." Blaine just shook his head at his silly husband.

"This morning didn't mean a thing," Blaine promised, leaning forward (and, embarrassingly, up) to kiss his husband on the forehead. "Let's forget it ever happened." The elevator dinged right at that moment, and the two walked in.

"Agreed." The couple rose in silence until they reached the penthouse they would be living in. It was much nicer than Kurt's apartment, the fashion critic know, but he had never really realized how beautiful the place was until he was viewing it as 'home'.

Blaine grabbed a package from the entrance, not saying what was in it, but smiling to himself. Ripping open the package easily, Blaine pulled out a small velveteen box and immediately got down on one knee. Ignoring Kurt's confused look, Blaine turned the box towards himself to check inside, before turning it back towards Kurt.

"Kurt Hummel, will you marry me?" Blaine asked very seriously, and Kurt almost laughed... until he saw the ring in the box. It was beautiful, a silver band with a strip of onyx in the middle, accented by three diamonds, a larger one in the middle of the onyx, and a smaller one to each side.

"Already taken care of," Kurt said with a huge smile, trying to ignore the inkling of tears forming (it was his automatic reaction to being proposed to, he swore). Nevertheless, he let Blaine slip Sam's ring off of his finger and replace it with his own, putting Sam's carefully in the box.

Grabbing the other box from the package, Blaine slipped off the ring given to him by Sebastian and put it in his box, placing a matching ring on his finger. The only difference was there was only one central diamond on his ring, and it was smaller than Kurt's central diamond, but they were obviously a pair.

Blaine then took the two velveteen boxes and placed them side-by-side on the bookshelf in the living room. "Someday," he promised, "we'll tell our kids this story, and we can even show them the proof." Blaine turned back to Kurt with a smile.

"Sam might want that back, you know," Kurt said automatically, knowing Sam wouldn't. Inside, he was thinking 'kids?' with equal degrees of hope and fear, deciding it was a discussion to be had later.

"I doubt it," Blaine said with a snort. "By the way," he began slyly," is Kurt Anderson fine by you?" It was obvious that Blaine wanted them to share his last name, and Kurt had no arguments. As cute as Blaine Hummel sounded, there was a ring to Kurt Anderson that the fashion critic liked. Maybe it was just the nagging reminder that he had been prepared to take Sam's last name.

"Kurt Elizabeth Anderson... fine by me, Blay," Kurt said flirtily, looking at Blaine from under his eyelashes. Kurt had mistakenly called Blaine by the nickname he hated, but Blaine didn't even noticed, too focused on striding over to Kurt to kiss the hell out of him.

"God, you're gorgeous," Blaine whispered as he mouthed along Kurt's jaw.

"B-bedroom," Kurt stuttered out, more than ready to.. consummate with his husband. Blaine didn't reply, preferring to pull Kurt close, hands on his ass, and lead them in a clumsy walk towards his king-size bed, never disconnecting their lips.

It wasn't until (late) the next day that Kurt made his way to Sam's apartment to get his stuff. He couldn't say he was surprised to see the 'For Lease' sign in front of the building, but Sam had certainly been fast about it. Kurt walked up the familiar steps, avoiding the creak in the third one that always gave him a headache, and headed into the building.

This was his lobby, the one he'd walked into so many times. The lobby where Sam had held him when he'd gotten the call about his father's second heart attack, the lobby where Sam had accidentally proposed once, and then thought it was so funny he really proposed there a few days later, the lobby where he'd first met Charlie. Things would never be the same.

Kurt took the stairs, running his hand over the polished wood banister. He had never spent much time on these stairs, preferring to get his exercise in bursts and usually taking the elevator, but he regretted not spending the time to himself. All his thoughts seemed louder in the open space below the skylight.

The fashion critic wasn't nervous until he reached the fourth floor. He'd been to almost every apartment on the fourth floor for various reasons, even made an entire round when they'd first moved in. The apartment he was the most worried about seeing was his own.

What was appropriate when entering a home that used to be yours and now is no one's? Should he knock? Should he just open the door? He had a key, after all. Kurt would hover awkwardly by the door in the hopes that a movie-perfect moment would finally occur for him, but he knew it wasn't likely Sam was even awake yet. Thus, opening the door was his only option.

Kurt shut the door behind him, and turned to find Sam sitting at the table, eating breakfast calmly. "Good morning," the mechanic greeted his once-fiancé politely. That moment, standing in his old apartment, key in hand, while Sam calmly watched him, sitting in their kitchen, in McKinley High pajamas, was the most awkward time so far in his life, and probably (hopefully) would be when he died.

"Hi. I just came to..." Kurt wasn't sure how to put this delicately.

"Pick up your stuff, like we agreed." Sam seemed a little amused, though Kurt couldn't imagine why. "Moving in so soon?"

"We decided it would be best. You certainly seem in a hurry to move out." Kurt winced once he realized how rude that sounded.

"Actually, I was kind of counting on the idea that you would be moving in with Blaine soon." Sam didn't seem offended at all. He still seemed entertained.

"Well, that was rather presumptuous of you." Kurt winced again as he automatically snapped at Sam. Sam actually laughed at that one.

"Kurt, you need to calm down. Relax. I'm still me, I'm not upset with you, and this is still your home. You have as much of a right to be here as I do. I know the retorts are your defense system. I know you. I know you fall easy and fall fast, and you're completely head-over-heels in love with Blaine. It's all right." Everything that came out of the mechanic's mouth was completely one hundred percent Sam, and Kurt felt oddly homesick. He had missed the mechanic's easy-going demeanor.

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized. "I guess I was a little bit.. unsure of how things would be between us, now that I'm with Blaine." Sam shrugged.

"I told you I don't begrudge you the man you deserve. Like I said, if he makes you happy, then I'm happy." There wasn't a note of melancholy or jealousy in Sam's tone, reminding Kurt how purely selfless his once fiancé was. "Nice ring."

Kurt looked down at his finger, knowing his expression was probably guilty. He had forgotten he was wearing the ring Blaine had given him. "Oh, thank you. I, um, I have yours, if you would like it back." Sam shook his head, as Kurt had suspected he would.

"Keep it. It's yours." The two stood in awkward silence for a moment, their very friendly air ruined by a tense topic.

"I'll start packing, I suppose." Sam didn't respond, returning to his breakfast, so Kurt headed for their old bedroom, mentally cursing the amount of personal belonging he had in there. He didn't want to carry all his boxes out himself, but considering his husband was at work and it wasn't likely Sam would be helping him move out, he resigned himself to some heavy-lifting and then a nice massage later. Possibly from Blaine.

Kurt could hear Sam walking around, putting away his dishes, and turning on the TV as he packed. Realistically, this wouldn't be a one-day process, but Kurt was very organized, and it wasn't as if it were his teenage wardrobe. Yes, all his clothes were designer, but it was an apartment, there was limited space.

It had probably been a few hours when Kurt finished packing his things. One good thing about having a fiancé with different tastes in movie and music was that not many of their things were a gray area, and those that were Kurt left. He didn't feel like splitting hairs over a few CDs.

Kurt groaned (it was intended to be mentally, but it was audible before he knew it) when he realized how many boxes he had to carry. Blaine had lent him his SUV (Kurt hadn't even been aware that he had a car) to bring things back, but he still had to load them. Plus, he hadn't taken into account how heavy the boxes would be whilst packing them.

"Need some help?" Sam offered quietly from the door, and Kurt nodded. Between them, they managed to get all of Kurt's boxes out (Kurt knew Sam was taking all of the heavier ones, but he couldn't bring himself to protest. Sam had always treated him as if he were fragile) to the SUV in about half an hour. Sam had given quite a loud whistle (which Kurt had taught him) when he saw the car, but the mechanic didn't comment.

"I suppose that's it," Kurt said when they were both back in the apartment. Kurt picked up his Vivienne Westwood coat and put it on while Sam hovered awkwardly. "It was nice seeing you Sam," the fashion critic said politely.

"Nice seeing you too. Don't be a stranger." Sam's smile was a little forced, and Kurt knew that as nonchalant as Sam was being, they would both need some time. If this had been normal, friendly circumstances, they would have hugged, but as it was, they both nodded at each other, and Kurt headed for the door, leaving his key on the counter.

Just before Kurt left, he turned to face the mechanic. "Sam?" The mechanic turned to face him with a questioning expression. "I know you're being very.. charitable about Blaine and I, but you deserve someone who makes you happy as well. Just, promise me you won't close yourself off." Without waiting for an answer, Kurt left their apartment for the last time.

It had been two weeks, and Sam couldn't stop thinking about the last time he had seen Kurt, and the last thing the fashion critic had said to him. No, he wasn't hung up on his old fiancé. He had never seen two people as happy as Kurt and Blaine. Sam had run into the two of them at a restaurant both he and Kurt liked, but they had been far enough away, no conversation was necessary. The mechanic could see how in love the two of them were though, even from a distance.

Now Sam was sitting at a bar Kurt liked and wishing to his lucky stars (if he had any) that Kurt and Blaine weren't about to walk in and start having sex on the middle of the dance floor or anything. That would be just his luck, considering the weeks he'd had.

First, he lost his fiancé. He wasn't obsessed with Kurt or trying to win him back, but yes, he still had feelings for the lithe fashion critic, and yes, losing him had hurt. Next, he'd sold the apartment with ease, but had trouble finding a bachelor pad. Then he'd had a falling out with his family, and now he really needed some good Scotch.

"You here alone?" The man that approached him was attractive, he would admit, with dark hair, almost black, and bright green eyes. He was shorter than Sam, probably about 5'6", and the smile on his full mouth was pleasant. The lines of his face were gentler, making him look younger than Sam would guess he was (which was about 24 or 25).

"Yes, and I would like to leave the same way." Sam knew he was being rude (the words out of his mouth sounded rather like something Kurt would say, but he wouldn't dwell on that).

"Well, as luck would have it, I feel the same way. This seat open?" Sam nodded, and the man sat on the bar stool next to him. "The name's Aiden, by the way. Aiden Hilty."

"Sam Evans," Sam replied. As long as this wasn't another guy trying to hit on him (there had been a few girls in the mix too), he was fine with some polite conversation.

"So, is there a reason a guy like you is so... anti-social?" Aiden asked calmly as he waved over the bartender. Sam would guess (not trying to sound conceited) that 'like you' meant fairly young and attractive.

"My fiancé just left me a few weeks ago," Sam said honestly, half-hoping it would scare this man off.

"Ouch, I'm sorry. Musta been a pretty stupid man to leave a guy like you." Now Sam wasn't entirely sure what 'like you' meant. Aiden ordered a Scotch, like Sam had.

"No, he made the right choice. He's completely head-over-heels in love with his new husband." Aiden choked on his drink, and Sam wondered what he'd said.

"Husband? Didn't ya say it had only been a few weeks?" Oh, that. It didn't seem so odd to Sam because he knew what had happened, he forgot how it would sound to the rest of the world.

"It's kind of a long story," Sam avoided. He didn't particularly want to rehash everything that had happened with Kurt and Blaine. Seeing them was bad enough, he didn't really need to think about them too.

"Well, it's only ten o'clock, and I'm here at least until midnight. Think that's enough time for ya?" Aiden asked. Sam shrugged, knowing it would be. "Ah, I get it. You don't wanna talk about it. That's fine. Musta hurt." There was some backwoods accent to Aiden's speech, but Sam couldn't quite name it.

"Yeah. This is going to sound a little odd, but where are you from?" Sam was more than curious about the accent.

"Maine, the land of lobsters and trees. Not much else up there." Aiden sounded as if he were more than happy to have left this state. "So, I came down here. There's plenty down here."

"What do you do for a living?" There was no harm in getting to know the guy, right? It's not like Sam was going to jump right back into dating, but Aiden was interesting and nice, and seemed interested.

"Ah, so we're gonna play 20 questions. All right. I'm a solar energy consultant down at Société de la Vie." Sam snorted. Of course.

"What does that company even do?" Sam muttered under his breath. Naturally, he found the one man in the bar that works for his ex's husband.

"What?" Aiden asked, obviously confused by Sam's reaction.

"I asked what that company does. I've... heard of it, but I don't actually know what it is." 'Heard of it' was a little bit of an understatement, but telling Aiden that he knew the owner would involve telling him at least part of the story.

"It does everything, really. There's a branch in almost every profession, and it buys out companies all the time, letting them keep their names but running them from the inside. The man that owns it is incredibly rich." Aiden sounded bored talking about his work.

"Well, that I knew," Sam said before he could stop himself.

"You know Mr. Anderson?" Aiden asked, and hearing anyone call Blaine 'Mr. Anderson' was almost laughable, considering he'd almost beat the man up once in a bathroom.

"On a first-name basis, as a matter of fact. Blaine is my ex-fiancé's new husband." Aiden whistled.

"You were engaged to Kurt Hummel. I see." The conversation fell into a little bit of an uncomfortable silence as Sam ordered another drink with a wave of his hand. "So now that I've made everything awkward, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a partner at Carlton Garages." Aiden whistled at that too. "Yeah, Blaine got me that job."

"Well, this will never be less awkward, will it?" Aiden said, sounding pretty amused but probably not laughing out of courtesy.

"Probably not. I'm sorry, it's just been a bad few weeks, and I'm in no mood for the little back-and-forth." Sam had figured out that Aiden intended this to lead somewhere. Aiden was turned towards him, leaning on the bar, not ordering anymore drinks, and had been looking up at Sam through his (incredibly long) lashes before Blaine was mentioned.

"That's understandable. I'm sorry I'm kinda making a move on you," Aiden admitted sheepishly. "You're just kind of insanely hot. So, if you ever are in the mood for this little back-and-forth, or more, here's my number." Aiden slid a card over to Sam and got up.

It would be three weeks before Sam called that number and went to coffee with Aiden. The day after would be the first time he had talked to Kurt since that day in their old apartment.

It would be a month before Sam explained everything that had happened with Kurt and Blaine, and Aiden held him as he finally let his emotions out.

It would be two months before Sam would admit to anyone they were dating. The first person he would tell was Kurt, at a Hudmel family gathering Sam and Aiden were invited to.

It would be a year and a half before Aiden was the one who grew some balls and asked Sam to marry him. Kurt was the obnoxious friend that screamed into the phone and rushed downtown to hug both of them when he found out.

It would be four years before Kurt was Sam's best man at his and Aiden's wedding. Sam would be the 'best man' when Kurt and Blaine renewed the vows they had never gotten to do the first time a few months later.

It would be eight years before Sam and Aiden adopted little Brandon, living in a Victorian on Long Island. Brandon would be just the right age to play with Blaine and Kurt's second little one, Annabeth, and just a few years younger than their little Jake.

For now, Sam tucked Aiden's number in his coat pocket and finished his Scotch, knowing that there was something between them that he'd never really felt before. Chemistry.

"Anata wa, nani o baka yatte iru no? Anata wa bu no kaigi o motte iru!" Sebastian's assistant, whose name he couldn't pronounce, yelled at him. Sebastian had no idea what he was saying, even after three weeks at the office.

Things weren't going well for Sebastian. He had discovered that Ivor was in a lower position at his company and had been using him to get a promotion. So that relationship had tanked. His bosses were annoyed that he hadn't picked up Japanese yet. He was having trouble finding a place to live because he couldn't communicate with anyone, so he was living about an American restaurant, with the only people in the entire city that could understand him.

Tokyo was the Japanese version of New York City, and Sebastian couldn't help but feel homesick looking out his window at Times Square, Japan version. He missed everything about his old life, especially his Blaine.

A picture of Blaine and him in Times Square had replaced the picture he'd had of him and Ivor on his desk, and every time he looked at it he felt miserable. The day before Blaine had answered his letter, telling him a crazy story of what had happened after he'd tried to marry them illegally. Blaine was married, in love, and happier than ever. He'd messed up his entire life, and he had no way to fix it.

He was going to get fired because he couldn't pick up the language.

He didn't have a boyfriend and had no way of meeting anyone.

He had to live above a smelly restaurant in the bad area of town.

He missed New York City.

Fuck. His. Life.

A/N: Yes, I included Sebastian in the epilogue part. I just kind of wanted to watch his life fall apart. The Japanese was Google Translate phonetic for 'What are you doing, you idiot? You have a meeting in four minutes!' As you see, Sam got the happy ending I promised him. I hope you guys enjoyed!

BROADCAST LOVE ACROSS ALL REVIEWS.