A/N: So, this is it I guess.

Feel free to ignore my gushing, but here it is: This was my first story, my first genuine attempt, and everyone who's read this has made it amazingly fun, and so, soworth it. Honestly, every time I come on here and see another 'alert' or a new message it just makes me squeal and smile and... I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you, to every single reader. To those who have stuck with me from the beginning, and those who might have only recently started reading, you're all lovely and I adore you.

This is the epilogue then... I don't know whether it's what you're expecting but, here it is, and for the last time, and as usual, enjoy, remember to check the date, and read whose head you're in...

(The song used is If My Heart Was a House by Owl City. Definitely listen when it begins to get the whole picture)

Tuesday April 19th 2022

Ava

Something's changed.

I don't know how I know but I just know that something's changed. Something's different, not exactly bad different or even good different, but definitely different.

I first kinda noticed it loadsa time ago when we went on the plane and stayed with Kurty's daddy and almost mummy. Not last time, or the time before that, but that first time when I met Finn and he told me that when he and Aunty Rachel have kids that he hopes they're as awesome as me. I remember that, 'cause it made me smile so hard my face hurt. But it was a different hurt from the kind caused by cold, sort of like that happy ache you sometimes get in your heart.

But something changed after that visit. After we got back home to England and I started back at school. Kurty was around loads more. Well, he was always aroundI guess, but I mean, he was around even more. He'd spend days and days with me and daddy, having sleepovers. Sometimes we went to his which was nice because he had more channels on his TV, but I was always a little more scared of spilling my orange juice at Kurty's.

And then one day after school me and dad were walking to Kurty's, and I was thinking about whether dad might let me get the paddling pool out at the weekend because the sun really was extra, extrawarm that week. And he sort of looked at me and smiled and asked me a question that I could tell was really, properly important.

"Av," he said in his serious daddy voice, the one used only for when he taught me about naughty words, and that time I asked him where my mummy and daddy are now they're not… well, not here. "How would you feel about Kurt living with us?"

"He sort of already does live with us," I said back, watching as a butterfly flew lighter than air in front of us, wings burnt orange like rust but pretty and delicate looking. I wondered what it'd be like to fly; I'd go up and up and up and dance with the stars.

"Well, how about if it wasn't 'sort of' and we moved to a new house that the three of us could live in together?" he asked, watching me with his goldish eyes that I'm always being told I have, which I always think is kinda dumb, 'cause if I've got his eyes then whose eyes does he have?

I thought about it quickly. I thought about if Kurty was to live with us proper and what might be different. I'd definitely have to have a lid on my orange juice then. Although I hadn't spilt anything in days. Apart from the day before when I was carrying my plate and a dollop of sauce fell off and went on a scarf of Kurty's, which was apparently made my a man called Marc Jacob. I've always wondered what this Marc Jacob guy's doing with his life if he's got enough time to sit and make scarves.

Daddy said not to worry though, he'd buy a new one and Kurty doesn't need to find out. So that had been okay I guess.

But then; a new house? What'd happen to the house we live in now? And my bedroom? And the pictures of my mummy and daddy up the stairs?

"What about all the stuff in our house already?" I asked, squinting up into the sun.

"We'd take it with us, with Kurt's stuff, and get a new house. You'll hopefully get a bigger room and you can decorate it any colour you like," he promised me.

Maybe I'd paint it all different colours like butterflies and dream about flying to see Finn and Burt and Carole and Aunty Rachel whenever I liked. "M'kay," I said, already planning where I might find paint the exact colour of wings. Kurty'd know where to get some.

"Okay?" he asked, sounding a little bit surprised.

I glanced up at him as we turned onto Kurty's road, swinging our hands between us.

"Yeah," I said. He smiled so wide that I think it must have hurt his face like mine did that time with Finn. But it can't've hurt that much, because it stayed on his face for the rest of the day, smiling at the world like the happiest man alive. I wonder whether at that moment he wasthe happiest man alive. But then later, after dinner and after the kitchen had been cleaned, Kurty came over to me and was smiling just as wide, and I figured maybe they were just happy to see each other.

So that was the first big thing that changed.

We moved into a different house, tall and pretty with big windows and grey bricks and a door the colour of the ocean. We all put on our painting clothes and decorated every room in the house until paint coated my skin so thick that I thought I would be kaleidoscope coloured forever.

Kurty painted flowers along the bottom half of the walls in my new room, and big, huge winged butterflies across the top. He then lifted me onto his shoulders and let me help paint the ceiling bright, startling blue like the sky, one of my paint sodden hands gripping his hair. It was always summer in my room.

Then nothing changed for a little while.

We all lived together and it was a little bit further from Kurty's work, which he sometimes complained about, but then dad would say 'but think of all the money we're saving for later,' in a voice that made me wonder what he was talking about. And then Kurty would smile and kiss daddy and I'd turn away because kisses are icky.

And then I started Big School and I met loads of different friends. A couple weeks in a boy named Danny asked me where my mummy was because he'd only ever seen two men pick me up. I told him that my mummy and daddy died when I was little, and that my uncle is now my daddy. He made a sad face at that but I promised him that it's okay, 'cause I've got dad and Kurty, and they love me just as much.

He asked who Kurty was, and I told him he's my dad's best friend. He smiled and said, 'that's cool.'

When I got home that day I told daddy about Danny, and he told me the real word is 'boyfriend', if people ask again, but 'best friend' is just as good if I don't want to say the other word.

Later that week I sat with Danny to eat my lunch from my Batman lunch box and told him that the proper word was that Kurty was my dad's 'boyfriend'. Danny nodded and smiled and said, 'that's cool' again. Then he offered me half his cheese and pickle sandwich 'cause I'd told him that was my favourite the day before, and I gave him a finger of my Kit Kat.

Then, after another Christmas in Ohio, we came home and the school had something called a 'Parents Evening' where your parents are supposed to go and talk to your teacher about whether you're getting your spellings right, or something like that. Either way, I thought it was dumb, because my spelling was brilliant, but I told daddy anyway and he got really over excited.

And then hetold Kurty, who got sort of confused and a bit quiet and sat reading a book without any pictures. I was in the hallway practicing tying my laces when I heard them speaking;

"Kurt, what's wrong, are you upset over something?"

"Of course not, why would I be?"

"You've been really quiet ever since dinner."

"It's nothing," Kurty had said, although even a room away I could hear somethingwas bothering him. Maybe he preferred books with pictures and was majorly disappointed.

"Come on, Kurt, just talk to me."

"Honestly Blaine, I'm fine. The parents evening thing just sort of… hit home I guess."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well… the fact that I'm not her 'parent', and therefore wont be going, just made me remember that she's not technically mine," Kurty sighed a little and I wondered why they were talking about me.

"Oh Kurt," dad had laughed, "of course you're coming to parents evening, you idiot!" Why would Kurty not come to speak with my teachers? I wondered. "And she's just as much yours as she is mine, Kurt I can't believe you'd even think like that. You thought you weren't invited to parents evening?"

"Well no… seeing as I'm not her parent."

"Kurt, you don't need some silly bit of paper to define whether you're her dad or not. What defines that is the fact she relies on you every day for something, to be there and to listen and to love her no matter what. Did you know there's only one person other than me who she lets kiss her bruises and cuts better, and that's you. She even called you dad last week Kurt, you don't need much more confirmation than that," I can hear daddy pleading and I wonder whether I'd upset Kurty un-on-purposely.

There's a little bit of silence and I wonder whether they can hear me listening. But then Kurty speaks and I breath a sigh of relief, "so I can come to the school with you?" he asks.

"Of course, I expected you to anyway," and then they're both laughing, and I would bet all the birthday money hidden under my bed that they're kissing, so I stay out in the hall and try my laces a few last times.

Anyway, the parents evening thing was a waste of a night in my opinion, my teacher, Miss. Finch, just told them both that I was doing really good in all my lessons and that although I talk maybe a little too much in class, and that climbing the trees at the back of the field really, reallywasn't allowed, that there was really no problems with my development. Whatever my development is.

And then she said, "We did have a small incident," and I watched as she fiddled with the charms on her bracelet, pretty and gold and shiny.

"What happened?" Kurty had asked, daddy glancing at where I was sat beside him, my legs stopping mid swing.

"Well, a few days ago Ava was involved in a bit of a fight out on the playground," I instantly hang my head in shame, avoiding the gaze of the adults and watching out of the corner of my eye as dads body angles towards me slightly.

"What- what happened?" Kurty asks, while dad speaks at the same time;

"Ava, why didn't you tell us you were being bullied?" he asks, reaching a hand out to hold my knee.

"I'm not being bullied," I managed to mumble.

"I don't think you understand Mr. Anderson," my teacher said, and I looked up, surprised to hear her voice strong but not like she was going to tell me off. "Another student was saying some rather... hurtful things about Ava's home life. Specifically the fact that she has two dads."

I bit my bottom lip and willed myself to look at daddy and Kurty's faces, both of them with wrinkly brows and slightly parted lips before they turned to me.

"Maybe I should let Ava explain," Miss. Finch then said, giving me a reassuring nod that I wasn't in any trouble.

"Okay," I began, "well, me and Danny was playing skipping, and I was trying to teach him 'cause he'd never done it before," I look up and swallow as they all watch me. "And then this boy from two years above called James comes over, and says that playing skipping is for girls. So I said, 'well I am a girl', because I am. And I saw Danny got a little upset so I took the skipping rope from him, and told him we could go and play on the climbing frame because that's his favourite,"

They're all nodding at me to continue, Miss. Finch smiling sweetly, a little bit of sadness turning down the corner of her lips. "So we were walking away and I heard James say something about- about his father telling him that I lived with 'a pair of fags' and so not to be my friend. And I- I don't know what fags means but from the way him and his friends were laughing I knew it wasn't nice. And Danny looked really upset about what James had said, which confused me more, and he- he grabbed my wrist as I walked back over but I pushed him off."

I was frightened then, staring up at the grown ups, Miss. Finch looking the saddest I've ever seen her. Normally she's bright and happy with rainbow coloured bows in her pretty auburn hair, but not now. And as for daddy and Kurty, well, I've never seen them look so mad and angry and scared. But I just carried on, hoping that maybe they wouldn't be too mad once I'd finished.

"So I asked James what he said, and he repeated it, and did one of them nasty, not real smiles, and it made my tummy turn when his friends laughed again. And then I-" tears pricked my eyes as I tried to speak, hoping I wont get in too much trouble. "I got really mad because he was being so mean, and Danny was shouting me over and he kept saying, 'he's bigger than you Av,' and 'he's not worth it' and I just- I got really angry, and then before I even knew what I was doing I just sort of, jumped on him and was hitting and kicking and- and I'm really, reallysorry. I promise I won't do it again, I absolutely promise!" I'm practically sobbing by now as daddy pulls me onto his lap and smoothes down my hair, whispering that I'm not in trouble, and I was really brave, and that this James kid sounds like a meanie who deserved it.

It turns out I didn't get in trouble. Well, that's a lie, I did a little bit, but mainly Kurty just told me that what James said was mean, and that there's a lot of mean people in the world, and I can't go around hitting people just 'cause they're mean. Miss. Finch had told them that James had a black eye for a week after I hit him and I can almost swear I saw a flash of a smile across all three adults faces. So then I promised I wouldn't fight with anyone again, no matter what they said, and would just walk away with Danny and tell either daddy or Kurty when I get home.

And then things were normal again for a long, long time. All through summer and winter, another Christmas with our family, my hand pressed to Aunty Rachel's swollen belly and feeling as her baby kicks inside of her. Watching a dopey grin spread over Finn's face each time.

And then we were home again, and that's where we are now, with something having changed and different.

I reallynoticed it yesterday, when daddy told Kurty that he's taking me round Danny's to play, that's when I realised something really washappening. Because Danny's on holiday at his Granma's in Wales and has promised me a postcard which I've been checking the mail for everyday.

But Kurty just nods and smiles, distracted by some pictures, and before I know it dads bundled me in a taxi that's already waiting down the road. Practically jumping in his seat with nerves.

"What's going on?" I say, inquisitive at six and a half.

"Ava, I'm going to tell you a secret but you have to promise me you won't tell Kurt," he says sternly, turning to face me, wide smile so opposite to the serious look in his eyes.

"I promise," I reply instantly, watching him fidget, my mind swirling with questions.

"Burt and Carole, and Finn and Rachel and their new baby Zachary are coming to visit us for a little while, their plane lands today," he says excitedly, smiling as I gasp and half scream in joy.

"Really? Are they really coming all the way here to see us?" I ask, glancing out of the window and wondering where they are now.

"Yes, they are, we're going to the airport to get them now, but you have to keep your promise Ava, you can't tell Kurt!" he says again, and I wonder why he's repeating himself because I haven't forgotten.

"I won't," I promise, "but why can't he know? Won't he want to see his daddy?" I ask, suddenly confused.

"Of course he will, but it's only one day you've got to not tell him, just tonight and tomorrow morning before school, he'll see them tomorrow, I just want it to be a big surprise," he says, and the shininess in his eyes makes me smile and think of distant stars.

"Okay, I won't say a word," I grin widely as he pulls me awkwardly across the chair for a hug, restricted by my belt but grinning into his shirt none the less, and I can feel as his heart thumps quick beneath my palm and I smile, loving having a secret to keep. A secret that makes my daddy's heart pound like a drum.

George

It's almost two years ago now since Kurt practically floated into the office, smile so bright it would rival the sun and temper as calm as a lake. It was surreal.

He smiled at everyone he passed, and when questioned about it his grin simply widened. His eyes shining like stars as he spoke; "Blaine and I just bought a house together," was all he said before disappearing into his office.

The entire room fell silent, all glancing at each other with wide eyes, momentarily frozen before barging a stampede after him. He grinned up from where he was rifling through his desk, searching for god-knows-what, not at all surprised by our reaction, all our faces bursting at the seams with smiles.

"When!" I was the first to ask.

"We literally just signed the final papers," he beamed, and I could see his hands shaking a little as he settled them on the edge of his desk, anchoring himself to the ground.

Everyone cheered, rushing forward and engulfing him in a sea of limbs and arms and love, shouting congratulations and thumping him on the back. And he just grinned and laughed and held back tears. "I've got to go, but we're going to have a house warming party soon and you're all welcome," he said quickly, before gliding from the office; and I swear his feet never touched the floor.

So weeks later, after they'd painted and furnished, and no doubt christenedevery room of the house, we all arrived with crates of beer and bottles of wine and were introduced to new neighbours and old neighbours, friends from Blaine's work. (Some of them were old teachers of mine, which bordered on awkward but we soon got over it. Although I did keep slipping back into the habit of calling them Mr. and Ms.)

And because it was early summer and the night was warm and long we filed outside into their garden. We decorated the trees with fairy lights from their Christmas decorations, and the lawn with a mismatch of chairs and rugs and blankets. The earth was sun-warm beneath our bodies as the sky bled crimson above our heads, before night leaked like ink and stained it navy blue.

The music was too loud and the laughter even louder, and I watched as Kurt and Blaine moved like one long, drawn out musical note together. They were inseparable, hands twined and smiles shared, laughing together and kissing when no one was looking, and then kissing despite people looking. Kissing because people were looking, because it was theirhouse and theirrules, as Kurt took to saying throughout the night.

Slowly people began to leave, children to get into bed and jobs to go to in the morning, they all said. But each and every person hugged them both, congratulated them, told them the house was beautiful. And each time their smiles grew a little bit wider, and if possible they fell a little bit more in love with this new life together.

By the time I left I'd had too much to drink and I was drowsy with happiness, so I kissed them both hard on the lips and told them I hoped one day I fell as madly in love as they had. They exchanged shocked faces and then laughed into the warm air before closing me in a hug. They thanked me, but I don't remember what for, and then gave me money for a taxi because I'd lost all mine to Ava in multiple games of dominoes.

And then things fell back to normal. Kurt would grumble some mornings about the longer commute but would then spend his entire lunch chatting happily to Blaine.

So they fell into a pattern together, a rhythm of music which worked for them, and for a long time nothing changed. Well, of course things changed; Blaine got some promotion and Ava started at a different school, Kurt turned down a week at a fashion event in Paris and instead whisked Blaine off to Italy for his birthday.

But essentially, the things that mattered, remained the same. They were still madly in love and inseparable and unfathomably happy.

So when Blaine rang me last month, voice frantic and hurried and frayed around the edges, I thought, something's either very, very wrong, or very, very right.

"George, I need to ask you a massive favour but you have to swear you can keep a secret…" he'd said, my heart beginning to race as my mind hurried to keep up with his words.

"I- yes, of course." I instantly agreed.

"You promiseme you won't tell anyone? Not a soul?" he'd asked, the familiar seriousness in his voice making me laugh. Always one for dramatics.

"I promise, I won't breathe a word to anyone," I emphasised, pressing my ear closer to my phone in desperation for his secret.

"So, in about a months time," he said, "I need you to do a few things for me, you're the only person I can ask so please, pleasesay you'll do it?"

"Of course I will, what is it?"

"Well…" he began, before beginning to list things I needed to do, people I needed to speak to and arrangements and lies I needed to weave like intricate spiders webs. I listened diligently and took notes and smiled through his planning.

"Have you got all that?" he said when he'd finished, taking a deep, somewhat cleansing, breath.

"I have," I assured him, drawing little stars along the margin of my paper.

"And you promise me-"

"I promise, not a word to anyone until it's absolutely necessary. And even then I won't reveal the true reasons," I said, feeling secretive and completely thrilled by his elaborate plan and the huge secret he's trusting me with. "Oh- and Blaine?" I quickly said.

"Yeah?" he called back down the line.

I waited a second, imagining him stood out in their garden, away from where Kurt can hear, checking feverishly over his shoulder. "Congratulations," I said.

His smile reached me from the other side of London. "Thanks," he said, and I could hear the happiness sweeping through him.

But now it's a month later and the plan is nearly complete, one more task remaining. However this one is by far the most important part of the entire night. Well, maybe not themost important, but I like to think it's quite essential.

I smile in that knowledge before calling down the corridor, "you almost ready Kurt?"

"Yeah," he calls back, locking his office and shrugging on his coat, striding over to me and lifting a box into his arms. "Lead the way," he smiles; utterly clueless.

Burt

So I know I'm not exactly younganymore, but I wouldn't say I'm old either. Yeah, maybe I've got grown up kids, and I'm considerably nearer to 60 that I'd like to be, and my hairs just non-existent now, but I'm not nearly as oblivious as Kurt seems to think.

He just doesn't think I notice things, when really I notice everything and just wait for him to feel ready to tell me, if he wants to of course.

Just like how I realised he was gay long before he 'came out'. Why's it called 'coming out' anyway? People don't physically come out of anything; they don't break out of a shell or a cocoon of silk, or even a proverbial closet and are suddenly gay. He was born gay, and I love him no more, or no less because of it.

But yes, I knew before he actually told me. But I waited. I waited until he was ready to tell me, I waited through the whole pretending to be straight debacle, and I waited after that, and I would've waited for as long as it took. But eventually he told me, and it meant the world to know he felt comfortable enough to.

So my sons gay? So what.

And then he met Blaine, and I put up with the 'Blaine said this yesterday,' and 'Blaine and I are going here-and-there at the weekend,' and 'no dad, Blaine's just my friend.' So I just smiled and nodded and told him to invite Blaine over for dinner one night if he wanted. So Blaine stayed for dinner and I pretended not to notice how their hands slipped simultaneously under the table and the blushes that followed.

I, mostly, turned a blind eye to the laughter and whispers which floated from his closed bedroom door, and I ignored the way the two of them jumped apart when I would get home early from work.

And then one day, one inconspicuous day among many days, Kurt sat down with me while I was watching a game. Which was unusual on its own, but it was when he asked who was winning that I realised he wanted to talk to me. So I muted the TV and turned to him. "What's up kid?" I asked.

He sort of looked up, watching the silent TV before turning to me. He half smiled and I could see he was a little nervous. "How would you feel if- if I said I had a boyfriend?"

So this is it,I'd thought. I rubbed my head, sighed, and then smiled. "I'd say he's the luckiest guy alive and you should invite him over to meet us all some time." Kurt grinned so wide at that, eyes shining bright as the sun, bright as his mothers. He opened his mouth to speak, but I spoke over him just in time, "but I'm going to take a stab in the dark, and say you don't need to invite Blaine over specifically to meet us all, seeing as he's here practically every day."

Kurt's eyes went wide, shocked, cheeks staining pink. "You… you know?" he asked.

In response I laughed, turning back to the TV and unmuting it, "It's kind of hard to miss," I said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smiling, looking down and fiddling with a loose thread on the arm of the couch. He then stood up and headed to the door. "Kurt?" I called as he almost disappeared from view.

"Yeah?" he said back, poking his head back in.

I turned to look at him, smiled a little and held back the urge to tell him to stop growing up and to just stay my little boy forever. "Blaine's a good guy Kurt, I'm happy for you both," I told him instead.

And he just smiled back a little nervously, laughing under his breath, the world lifting from his shoulders. "Thanks dad," he said.

So that was that. Blaine was suddenly round a whole lot more and to some degree he felt like my third son. There they were when I got home from work; cuddled up on the couch sleeping, laughing in the kitchen and running down the stairs with hair breaking free of gel. But Kurt was so happy, and Blaine equally so, so I just gave them the benefit of the doubt and as usual pretended not to notice.

Then fast forward eight years or so and there we sat, at the same dining table three Christmases ago as I watched my son fall in love all over again with his high school sweetheart. And as before I pretended not to notice their hands sliding under the table, and even more so than that I pretended not to notice that thick, marker pen line that stained my son's skin.

I acted as if it wasn't there and wasn't significant and didn't make my head thrum with, too soon,and, please don't make a mistake,and, are you sure?

So maybe after that I watched a little closer. Eventually the line disappeared and left the skin as pale as before, but whenever I looked at his hand it was all I could see. And I watched Blaine too, I watched him watch Kurt's hand and thought maybe it wasn't too soon. Maybe that's where they're heading. Maybe that's where they've always been heading.

So as usual I looked away and waited for Kurt to tell me; I waited until he was ready to tell me something I already knew.

And then that night when they visited Blaine's parents. I didn't interrupt, I didn't demand to be told anything, it was their life, and Blaine's family, and it was up to them whether to tell me or not. Kurt did, a few days later, but I'd already heard the soothing words he whispered into Blaine's hair all night, and when I woke early I saw them. The sheets and duvet had been kicked almost all the way off, just wearing their boxers and curled so tight together that it was impossible to distinguish whose limbs were whose. And that intimacy, in that moment, Blaine's face buried into my sons chest, their arms straining to hold tighter, that was what made me realise that yeah, they're still young, they haven't been together all that long, but they're so completely in love that marriage is inevitable, with or without marker pen rings.

But then they left back to London, taking their secret with them, and I couldn't help but be hurt by the fact my son hadn't told me about one of the biggest decisions of his life. I didn't mention it to Carole, I didn't mention it to anyone. It wasn't my secret to tell after all.

So new years came and went, as did valentines and Kurt's birthday and then Blaine's, and still not one word of an engagement.

Then there was a phone call at three in the morning, and how many phone calls at three in the morning are good news? So I shot out of bed with my heart hammering and answered the phone, Carole racing behind me in a dressing gown and pressing her ear to the phone.

"Hello?" I shouted down the line, my mind running through a million different things that could've happened, a million different ways the people I love could have been hurt.

"Dad?" It was Kurt, he sounded uninjured.

"Kurt? What's up? What's wrong? Are you-" I was asking questions and leaving no time for answers but he didn't care, he's never cared when I ramble so instead he just spoke over me.

"We're buying a house," he'd said, and the happiness in his voice stretched over the ocean and filled my heart as I slumped against the wall, rolling my eyes at Carole who had tears instantly swelling her eyes.

"And this couldn't wait till later?" I teased, "you about gave me another heart attack."

"Huh?" he hummed, initially confused before he gasped. "Oh god dad, I'm so sorry, I didn't even thinkabout the time difference. I'm so sorry, have you taken your pills? Go and grab some water an-"

"Kurt, shut up, it was a joke," I tell him, rubbing my head and grinning at my wife. I held back the teases about himhaving forgotten the time difference for once.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, worry seeping into his voice.

"I'm fine," I reassured, "now tell me all about this house," I told him, ignoring the sinking feeling in my gut at the fact there was no word of an engagement yet.

So they moved in together, and summer passed. Autumn arrived and brought school changes for Ava and then another Christmas in Ohio. I studied his hand. I searched for a subtle tan line where a ring might be, maybe he took it off before coming here, but there was nothing. Then there was another valentines day and more birthdays and anniversaries and stillno mention of them being engaged.

Then this last Christmas, as we waved them off at the airport and I tried not to cry I figured maybe I'd just read into that damn marker line too much. Maybe it was just an insignificant smudge of pen and Kurt hadn't told me they were engaged because they weren't.

I guess I'd all but given up come New Year, then finally, completely out of the blue, mid January, came the phone call I'd been waiting on. It rang and rang as I wandered from the kitchen, sandwich in hand and leisurely answered.

"Hello?" I called down the line, listening to the crackle of static before someone spoke.

"Hey Burt," Blaine said, sounding a little strained but happy none the less.

"Hey kid, everything okay?" I asked, smiling and wondering what's warranted this phone call. It wasn't exactly unusual for Blaine to ring; it was just more regularly Kurt.

"Yeah- yeah everything's fine," he said, and even as he said it I could feel something was up. Something he'd rang specifically to tell me.

"You sure?" I wondered aloud, giving him the opportunity to tell me.

"Yeah, we're all great. I just erm… I just wanted to ask you something," he then said, and suddenly I was scared.

"Okay, ask away," I told him, stilling and trying to listen to any background noise on his side.

"I erm… d'you think you and Carole could come to London in mid April, hopefully for the 18th, definitely for the 19th? Finn and Rachel as well?" he asked, sounding nervous and putting me on edge.

"I'm sure we could work something out…" I offered, my mind running away with itself as I tried to work out the meaning behind his words.

"Really?" and he sounded so god damn hopeful that I laughed out loud.

"Yeah, of course," I assured him, hearing him laugh down the line, "why d'you want us there?" I asked, trying to sound natural, knowing him well enough that this wasn't just some random visit he was planning.

"I'm going to ask Kurt to marry me," he said with such confidence and joy and happiness that I felt tears well in my eyes. I didn't ask about that pen line, or about why that specific date, and I didn't tell him that I've been waiting two years for this news. Instead I just congratulated him and tried not to cry and promised him we wouldn't miss it for the world.

So here we are, Carole and I, Finn and Rachel and their baby, all huddled together like penguins, Ava in my arms, coats wrapped loose around us and smiling at the other people gathered. Everyone's spread in a circle with a small break where Blaine pushed people apart and is now pacing a little frantically. He keeps glancing at his watch and I wonder how much planning has gone into this. A lot considering the mass of people and the music set up.

But I wait, just like I always have for Kurt, offering him a smile when he looks over and watching as a million emotions decorate his face. And I wait.

Kurt

"I still don't understand why you won't just get a taxi," I complain as I shift the heavy box onto my other hip, following George across the street.

"Did your parents never tell you to not get in cars with strangers?" he teases, stopping to let me catch up and smiling as I approach.

"Well yes, but it's not really the same is it?" I say, rolling my eyes but smiling none the less.

"I dunno… I'm a pretty good-looking guy, one of 'em could just lose control and take advantage," he's laughing as he speaks and I can't help but laugh along.

"George," I say, "you're over six foot tall and built!I think you would struggle to find a taxi driver who could 'take advantage'," I'm shaking my head as I follow him over another road, not really paying attention to where we're going.

He practically roars with laughter, throwing his head back and laughing into the night as darkness just begins to creep over the city. The sky is burnt orange, fading into purple before sliding into dark, navy blue. Street lights begin to flicker on, glowing orange as white and red lights string together up and down the roads, beads of light against the black backdrop.

"How much further?" I complain, shifting the box again as my muscles begin to ache with the weight.

"Not far," he replies, leading the way into Hyde Park.

"What've you got in these anyway?" I ask, shaking the box a little in my arms and listening to the rattle of movement inside.

"Just stuff from work," he shrugs, smiling down at me widely before looking away.

I frown a little, trying to read his expression before giving up. Instead I grasp the box firmly under one arm and struggle to slide my phone from my pocket. I'd text Blaine just before leaving work, telling him I'd be late home, explaining that I was helping George with some stuff, but I'm yet to receive a reply. I stuff it back into my pocket with a huff, catching George's attention unintentionally.

"What's up?" he asks.

"Huh?" I glance up; catching his eye and watching him frown. "Oh nothing, just expected a reply from Blaine by now, doesn't matter," I assure him, offering a weak smile.

He hums a little, "maybe he's just busy," he says, looking in the opposite direction, apparently very interested in the trees along the edge of the park.

I nod, even though he can't see me, and ungracefully transfer the weight of the box to my other arm, trying to keep up with his long strides. "Hey, what d'you reckons going on over there?" I then say.

He looks down at me and follows my line of sight, smiling a little as he shrugs. "No idea," he says, although the smile in his eyes is unmistakable.

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously as we near the crowd of people, all formed in a loose circle. I crane my neck up to try and see what they're all looking at, but they're just too far away. "What're you grinning at?" I ask, unable to stop, or describe, the sudden sweeping feeling in my stomach. That feeling you get when you knowyou're missing out on something huge. Just as that swooping sensation takes place, I recognise the area of the park we're in, the area which that crowd is gathered around.

But George just shoots me a smile, a smile so childlike and carefree that I can't help but grin back, opening my mouth to speak before a voice calls my name, "Kurt!"

I turn suddenly, head swivelling as I search the crowd for the man whose voice I would recognise in my sleep.

And then there he is; hands tucked nervously into his pockets, hair neatly combed and a nervous, slightly shaky smile across his face, stood at what appears to be an opening to the circle.

"Blaine?" I question, eyes only for him as I approach, not noticing the tiny squeal of excitement that George makes, or the dozens of faces which follow my every move.

"Hey," he smiles, taking the box from me and dropping it to the floor, taking my hand and leaning forward to kiss me gently on the cheek. I notice his hand is shaking in mine, cold and quivering as I search his face, reading his emotions.

"What's going on?" I ask, grinning happily as I peer over his shoulder, trying to see into the circle, wondering what everyone's gathered for. But there's nothing there, just bare ground. So I look back to him and am momentarily blinded by the brightness of his smile, wide and unashamed and so indescribably happy that it takes my breath away. "What's happening?" I ask again, wondering what's got him so excited and nervous.

"Us," he then says, taking my other hand and tugging me with him as he walks backwards into the circle.

"What?" I ask dumbfounded, being pulled into the centre of the circle, my eyes now frantically scanning the faces surrounding us. But I only have time to momentarily recognise a few before his hand is splayed on my cheek, turning me to him, and I watch as he swallows and wets his lips. "Blaine, what's happening, seriously?" I ask frantically, my smile faltering as I take in his serious expression.

And then suddenly there's music filling the air, light and barely noticeable as it swells into the sky which darkens with every second. "Dance with me," is all Blaine says before he settles a shaking hand on my waist, looks up at me with expectant, hopeful eyes as his other hand waits for mine to slip into it.

My hand falls easily into his, stopping it from shaking and feeling as he clings tight, knuckles painfully white as he holds on. He takes a deep breath, stepping forward and holding me closer, moving our bodies together as lyrics begin to fill the night, mingling with his voice;

"You're the sky that I fell through / And I remember the view / Whenever I'm holding you"

He squeezes my waist slightly, looking up at me, catching my eye and smiling so heart-breakingly beautifully that I feel the earth move beneath me. And then it clicks. It's like a machine in my head has just fired up and everything slides into place, the grinding of metal as cogs begin to turn and the laughter which bubbles up from my chest. The world falls away then, the people disappear and every sound but for the music and the pounding of my heart in my chest, every sight but for his smile and every feeling apart from his body against mine.

"Is this you serenading me?" I lean down and whisper as the song continues in the background.

The sun hung from a string
Looking down on the world as it warmed over everything

He laughs through those lines and I see the night sky reflected in his eyes when he smiles up at me. "It certainly is," he assures me. And then suddenly his hand drops from mine as he lifts me effortlessly, turning us both with the music before lowering me gently. One hand on my waist lifts to run his fingers down my spine, and I feel as goosebumps erupt over my body, "Chills run down my spine"he sings, lacing our free hands and watching as our fingers fit perfectly together, "As our fingers entwine"while I watch him; the awed expression on his face and the soft, gentle curve of his smile.

And then he looks up, eyes bright as the stars which are breaking free above our heads. Breaking though pollution and clouds and the millions of miles of darkness to shine above us. Pin pricks of hope in a sea of black.

"And your sighs harmonize with mine"he breaths against my collarbone, hand twined with mine dropping to hold my shoulder before falling slowly down, resting above my heart, not doubt able to feel it thundering inside me. "Unmistakably,"he sings, and as he does so he smiles up at me again, and with the next words I understand why, "I can still feel your heart beat fast when you dance with me."

We got older and I should have known
That I feel colder when I walk alone
So I may as well ditch my dismay

Those next lines he doesn't sing, just allows them to swim over us and swallow us whole, their truth undeniable as we move like one soul, sharing smiles before he leans up and kisses me slowly, languidly, and just chaste enough considering the crowd.

I haven't yet had time to search for faces in the mass of people gathered, although the crowd does seem to have grown since he first tugged me into the middle.

Then suddenly the tempo picks up and he's lifting me again, hands on my hips as I grasp his shoulders and laugh unashamedly, twirling us before planting me firmly on the ground. He drags me against him a little rougher, hands tighter around my waist as mine get crushed between our chests, fisting the fabric of his shirt. I press our foreheads together and smile as he continues to sing, louder and move confident that before;

"Circle me and the needle moves gracefully / Back and forth / If my heart was a compass you'd be north"he leans up quickly, a brush of dry, smile-curled lips against mine before he dips me to one side. "Risk it all coz I'll catch you if you fall,"he smiles wickedly at my small yelp of shock before he straightens us up, a hand falling to rest open and splayed against my heart again. "Wherever you go / If my heart was a house you'd be home."

I can hear laughter around us and can't wipe the smile from my face, my heart swelling and doubling and tripling in size within me. Swelling so huge I can almost feel my skin tearing with the pressure of holding it in. Goosebumps decorate every inch of my skin, down my spine and along my arms, down my thighs as my nerves tingle with sensation.

"It makes me smile because you said it best,"he continues to sing, quieter now and moving us in a half waltz, head falling to rest against my shoulder as I swallow the lump in my throat and dare to press a kiss to his forehead. "I would clearly feel blessed, if the sun rose up from the west / Flower balm perfume / All my clothes smell like you,"he moves and grins up at me, toying with the hem of hishoney brown blazer I stole this morning, "Coz you're favourite shade is navy blue,"he scrunches his nose, and we both shake our heads and laugh, both knowing my real favourite colour.

I walk slowly when I'm on my own
Yeah but frankly I still feel alone
So I may as well ditch my dismay

We both mouth along, not really singing but just smiling and watching and falling head over heels for each other again. I can see moisture shimmering in his eyes and kiss each eyelid, before I sing the next lines, not sure whether he'd be able to and wanting to make sure he knows I feel exactly the same.

"Circle me and the needle moves gracefully / Back and forth / If my heart was a compass you'd be north,"I point to him, making him chuckle and hide his blush before I slide a finger beneath his chin and tilt his face up to look at me.

And then he's singing again, finishing the song off. "Risk it all cuz I'll catch you if you fall / Wherever you go / If my heart was a house you'd be home."He repeats, my eyes flooding with tears which I manage to blink back. My face aches from smiling and my heart is practically bursting with love.

Slowly the song winds down, floating into the sky and leaving us alone beneath the darkness, bodies surrounding us but neither of us have eyes or thoughts or hearts for anyone else.

Blaine steps back slightly, out of my embrace and my hands instantly move to follow. But he stops them, sliding our hands together and squeezing, keeping one intertwined with my own as the other slides away. I instantly feel cold on one side and bring it up to my mouth, covering my lips as I watch his free hand dip into his inside pocket.

And then he's smiling up at me as he pulls a small, red box from his pocket, and although I don't see the gold name on the top, the design is undeniable, causing me to gasp, mouth falling open in shock as he drops to one knee. Then slowly, painfully slowly and with a little bit of a fight, he pulls his other hand free from mine, leaving it extended and shaking before I drag it up to my face.

One hand covers my still gaping mouth as the other falls across my eyes, no longer even bothering to hold back tears as they fall down my cheeks. I begin to shake my head, happiness making me lightheaded as he looks down, observing the box in his hands before looking back up.

And then he freezes, smile stilted, "you're shaking your head," he says, and the doubt in his voice makes my heart drop through my feet.

"No it- I just- I can't believe you actually serenaded me," I say through a laugh, wiping at my eyes and watching as a smile rises like the sun across his face. I hear laughter around us and am startled, having completely forgotten where we are.

"I said I would," he teases through a chuckle, still resting on one knee, both hands grasping that closed red box. He then takes a deep breaths, seems to steady himself, before catching my eye and smiling. "So," he begins, laughing through tears which are yet to fall.

I laugh back and can't help as I fall to my knees in front of him, landing heavy against the ground and not caring at all about my clothes, not liking him knelt in front of me when this is both of our decisions. I shuffle forward and we both smile, his raised knee dropping, both leaning forward to kiss. "God, I love you," he sighs as we pull away, his eyelashes fanning briefly against my cheeks; he then shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. "Kurt I- I could talk for years about how much I absolutely adore you," I laugh and duck my head, cheeks staining pink as heat flushes my face.

"But, hopefully, dependant on your answer to my next question," he's blushing as well, "hopefully we'll have an entire lifetime for me to do that," I watch him swallow heavily; clearing his throat a little while I wait. I wait for the question which will seal our future, our hearts. "So Kurt, will you," he looks down at the box, and gently tilts it open, revealing a simple platinum ring with three diamonds set into it, "make me the happiest man alive? Will you marry me?"

There isn't a pause. There isn't a moment or a second or a heartbeat for me to consider my answer, to think about it, to mull it over. Because I don't need to think about it. I've known the answer for over two years, and arguably even longer, arguably since the age of seventeen.

So instead I smile so wide my face threatens to break in two as I whisper a simple, "yes," laughing as tears decorate my cheeks and Blaine's smile lights up the dark night. There is cheering around us, laughter and whooping and clapping, but all I can hear is the blood rushing through my ears and the gentle rhythm of Blaine's breathing, the strum of his laughter.

I feel his hands take my left one, shaking as he pulls the ring free of the black cushion. He glances up at me as our hands tremble together, my free one held over my quivering lips. He grins again, for the millionth time, as with stuttering fingers he slides the cold metal easily onto my ring finger, pushing it over the knuckle to where it settles; flush against my skin and breath-takingly beautiful and perfect and ours.

His hand remains holding mine, sliding the ring smoothly from side to side slightly, before laughing and looking into my eyes.

And then all of a sudden there are bodies around us. Hands hooking under my arms and dragging me up, patting me on the back and laughing and shouting congratulations. And I can't focus long enough to distinguish faces or voices, my hand is being dragged every which way, angled to get a better look as I stutter thanks through tears and wish my dad was at least here to see this.

And then out of nowhere there are a pair of arms I could never mistake, a smell which brings with it my childhood and surprise so strong that my knees literally give in beneath me. But he supports me like he always has, pounding me hard on the back in a way only dads do. "I'm so happy for you boys," he's saying, and I can hear emotion in his voice, as if I was able to control my body enough to look at him right now, I'm sure he'd have tears in his eyes.

But I'm speechless it seems. Speechless and frozen in shock and happiness. And then there's Carole, and someone is ruffling my hair as Carole hugs me tight and I sink into her, sending a thought to my other mum, I hope you can see how happy I am,I think as I bury he head into Carole's warmth and feel the press of Finn behind me. He turns me around and there's another person in his arms. Blaine,I realise with a chuckle as his face is crushed close to mine against my brother's chest.

We both laugh and smile and watch each other with wonder. Mine,I think, he's officially mine. And then out of no where there's Rachel, tiny and loud with a bundle of blankets in her arms which I realise is my nephew. I take him from her as she hugs me tights, squeezing and congratulating and wiping away tears. And then Ava is in Blaine's arms and she's smiling and talking and completely bemused by what is happening.

Blaine and I look at each other, grinning momentarily before we're once again tossed into the sea of people, Ava being swept from his arms by Finn. Some of the crowd I don't even recognise, strangers it seems who stopped to watch and are now wishing us good luck and all the happiness in the world.

So I smile and thank them and try to act composed when inside I'm shaking with happiness.

But now I can look properly, I see that all my closest friends from work are here, including Blaine's. Some of our neighbours and friends from our old houses and some of my college friends who I've kept in contact with. Everyone who matters to us is here and happy for us and loving us with their whole hearts.

They're all talking and shouting and introducing themselves, and slowly some disperse, strangers walk away with smiles on their faces, couples leave with hands intertwined. And then someone says something about going out to celebrate and everyone agrees, and before me or Blaine have had a chance to say anything we're being washed away with a tidal wave of people.

But we find each other, through the crowd of congratulations and laughter we find each other. His hand falls into mine, strong and ever present and real. He smiles, thumb dipping into the cage of our palms to run lightly over the skin-warmed metal, making me sigh with happiness as I step closer.

We both lean forward and kiss briefly, fleetingly, not nearly enough, before pulling away with shared reluctance.

"I can't believe you just did that," I whisper, resting my head against his shoulder for a second as we walk, the sounds of our family and friends filling the night.

He laughs, "Neither can I really. But I promised you'd be serenaded," he's laughing and I just can't deny him merit for sticking to his promise.

"You sure did," I reply, catching his eye, both still smiling impossibly wide, "and today of all days," I add with a laugh.

He chuckles under his breath before speaking, "that day meant so much to me I- I wanted it to be a day we had reason to celebrate,"

"We already had reason to celebrate it," I assure him, squeezing his hand. Silence engulfs us momentarily, both remembering as the swell of people around us drowns out our thoughts.

"I meant what I said," he then says, "about spending a life time telling you how much I love you," he confirms at my raised eyebrow.

I laugh under my breath, ducking my head and running my thumbs over his knuckle, "I know you did," I say back, "and I- I feel the same," I confirm for him, needing to say it aloud to make sure he hears.

He shoots me that look, that same look that he would give me when we were in high school. Just a simple half smile out of the corner of his eye which makes my stomach flip and my heart thump relentlessly. And I smile back, scrunchy eyed and unrestrained.

"Love you," he says, squeezing my hand again before lifting it, inspecting the sight of his ring looped around my finger, the perfect fit.

"Is that today's declaration of love?" I tease, earning a snort and a nod of his head.

"Yeah, I guess it is," he says, raising my hand to press a kiss to the skin where his ring meets my knuckle.

"Well… I love you too," I say back, watching his eyes flicker with laughter and his heart swell with joy and happiness. We cross the road, still following the foot falls and voices of our group of friends, but we have eyes only for each other.

Maybe tonight wasn't wholly necessary. We already agreed to get married, years ago, promised in the dead of night in the fits of passion, but somehow tonight made it real. I can practically taste our future sweet on my lips; teasing me. And I want it, I think, I want it all now.

I want the same last name and the shared bank account and the rings which promise forever.

I want the future we promised each other over a decade ago.

And I'm finally getting it.

If my heart was a house you'd be home.

A/N: So yes, it was cheesy and that but... how else would you want it to end?
So that's it, thank you again, and hopefully when I start my next story you might pop over and have a look. PS. Come and see me on tumblr ;) hopingtobefree