"It’s late," Kurt says between kisses, knowing he should let go of the lapels of Blaine’s blazer but not quite able to bring himself to do it. "You should probably get going, you know, before…"
"Before I can’t stop kissing you?" Blaine finishes for him, smiling sweetly, his eyes crinkling at the corners when Kurt darts forward to kiss him again. "We’re not very good at this whole saying goodnight thing."
Kurt sighs. Blaine has a point - they’ve been “saying goodnight” with lazy kisses for the past five minutes with no real sign of stopping, taking turns pulling away only for the other to lean in for one more last kiss.
since it’s three years since kurt and blaine met today, i combined my post 5x04 fic with having kurt talking (gushing) to someone else about his blaine. ♥
“So engaged, huh?” Elliott can’t help but to ask as he leans back against the couch, the question on the tip of his tongue finally slipping out.
He keeps his voice hushed, Rachel having already gone to bed a couple of hours ago and Santana tugging Dani with her to her room a few moments before.
Kurt’s face lights up with a proud little smile, eyes darting down to his ring and he lifts his hand almost unconsciously, spreading his fingers to look at it.
Anonymous prompted: Blaine watching a playback of Roar and seeing this (x) and getting self conscious and Kurt telling him he’s a dummy and he likes the tum (((I feel like you get a lot of prompts like this but honestly I saw the jiggle and just smiled because Darren’s lil tum /)w(\ there’s never enough tum love)))
"Something’s on your mind," Kurt says as soon as they finish their hellos, and Blaine sighs, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders and staring at the laptop. He’s trying not to sulk, but he doesn’t think he’s succeeding.
"You’re blanket-burritoing, Blaine, and you only do that when you’re upset or sick." Blaine slumps and Kurt’s voice softens. "What’s wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me anything."
"It’s… kind of silly."
"So are two-hour discussions about which Salvatore brother is hotter, but we still did that the other day, didn’t we?" Kurt says with a smile, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. "Try me."
anonymous prompted: first time meeting with one of the boys literally falling in the other’s arms, and kurtsies prompted: kurt owns a little boutique (or something) and blaine is the guy who comes to wash the windows
Kurt usually doesn’t pay much attention to the people cleaning his windows – they are, after all, cleaning his windows, and if Kurt thought of it as an exciting experience he would have done it himself instead of hiring them.
Except it’s kind of hard to ignore the guy who keeps pausing in his movements, staring straight through one of the big floor-to-ceiling windows in the small but exclusive fashion store Kurt opened a few months ago.
The guy doesn’t even shy away from looking when he sees Kurt noticing him, simply smiles back, and when Kurt catches him drawing a little heart to him on the window followed up with a wink, Kurt blushes so hard he has to slam the register shut and flee to hide in the backroom.
Five months into their relationship Kurt realizes that Blaine is atrocious at certain accents, and once he starts laughing at Blaine’s falsetto, “May the odds be ever in your favor!” he can’t seem to make himself stop.
"Oh my god,” Kurt says behind his fingers, covering his mouth with one hand and clutching his stomach with the other. He’s laughing so hard it’s starting to hurt, and after Blaine gets over his initial pouting once he realizes what Kurt is laughing at, he reaches for Kurt’s wrist, trying to tug his hand away from his mouth.
"Hey, no, c’mon, don’t hide! You know how much I love your smile, Kurt."
Kurt hiccups around a breathless laugh and then presses his lips together to hide his teeth. He shakes his head, and Blaine crawls closer on the bed, kissing Kurt’s dimpled cheek.
More tropes: Cheerio!Kurt/Nerd!Blaine. Also a prompt from anonymous for Model UN Klaine.
The clump of students milling around the door part like the Red Sea when he saunters into the room. Well, as much as seven students can be parted. Model UN is admittedly not the most popular club at McKinley.
Blaine has no idea what he’s doing here. Bored? Lost? Sent on a dare from the other Cheerios to scare the nerds?
But then he sits at a desk in the front, crosses one long leg over the other and looks around expectantly, so Blaine gets up with a sigh, finds a placard for an available country and hands it to him with eyebrows raised. Kurt Hummel may think this is all a joke, but as founder and leader, Blaine takes it very seriously.
“We’re finishing up a committee topic on access to sanitation,” Blaine says. Kurt wrinkles one side of his nose. “But study up on your country for the next meeting and be prepared to participate on gay rights issues.”
Kurt reads his card and wrinkles the other side of his nose as well. It’s really not cute. Except for the fact that it very much is.
“No, no, no, don’t touch that!” Kurt says, coming into the room like shot out of a canon, Blaine barely having time to register he’s there before Kurt slips and falls to the floor with a yelp.
“Honey!” Blaine squeaks out and hurries over to him, crouching down and trying to see if he’s okay. Kurt blinks up, looking like a startled Bambi and Blaine can’t hold back a little giggle before going serious again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Kurt huffs out and blushes, holding out his hand for Blaine, clearly wanting help. Blaine stands again and hauls Kurt up, Kurt slipping a little on his fluffy winter socks.
“Be careful with those,” Blaine says, sliding his arm around Kurt’s waist just to be sure he really is steadied enough. He pulls him a little tighter against himself, just to be sure. Pressed chest to chest is probably the safest option in this particular situation. Maybe kissing as well, he thinks, before furrowing his brows and putting that thought on hold. “What were you running in here like a hunted antelope for?”
more tropes: werewolf!kurt/vampire!blaine
“The werewolf thing is terrible for my skin.” Kurt rubs the apricot scrub in increasingly violent circles, as if sloughing hard enough will remove whatever paranormal toxin was injected into his DNA via werewolf attack. He told his dad that taking out the garbage was bad for his health, but did he listen? No.
“At least you don’t have to drink blood,” Blaine says next him, shuddering and scrunching his nose.
“Plus all the death,” Kurt points out, passing him a wet wipe to remove the remnants of the scrub on Blaine’s smooth, flawless skin.
“Near-death,” Blaine corrects. “If I have to suck someone’s blood I’m going to drop them off at the hospital after. It’s only polite.”
Sort of a 5.02 reaction fic. Blaine visits Kurt in NY after prom. NC-17.
Prom is on a Friday, and Kurt had insisted Blaine go out and enjoy his senior prom and senior-night-after-prom and senior prom-the-morning-after, but the truth is he’s had more than enough school dances, more than enough drama from school dances that he mostly just wants it to be over already.
He goes to the Waffle House with the gang anyway, sticky vinyl seats and the sickly yellow glow of cheap lighting on the formica tabletops and stained laminate flooring. But it’s fun, eating greasy junk food and drinking terrible coffee and only annoying the clearly exhausted waitress a little bit.
Okay, a lot. They leave her a huge tip. He hopes she’s off work soon and gets some sleep. And maybe a multivitamin.
His parents have graciously offered an allotment of frequent flier miles, and he knows he just saw Kurt and he could probably stand to wait, but he just- He’s so happy, and didn’t really get a lot of time to celebrate with his fiancé. Fiancé.
So he books a flight for Saturday morning to Sunday night, last minute and totally worth the extra frisking at the airport.
Blaine answers his phone with a chipper hello - he has chicken and rice and vegetables all cooking and he is absolutely not going to burn anything this time - but he freezes in surprise when he hears an unmistakable soft, high voice say, “Hi, this is Kurt, I don’t know if you remember me or not—”
"Of course I remember you," Blaine says, warmth spreading slowly through his stomach that has nothing to do with the heat from the stove. They’ve been texting back and forth, getting to know each other over the past two weeks, but Blaine had decided to wait until Kurt was ready to call him instead of making the first move.
Kurt laughs, nervous and sweet, and continues, “Oh, well, I— I’m calling for personal reasons.”
Blaine doesn’t pump his fist in the air, but it’s a near thing. “Mmhmm?”
Anonymous prompted: two vampire friends (kurt and blaine) lying on the floor getting drunk and describing each other because they can’t use mirrors (x)
It takes remarkably little alcohol to get them drunk - an unfortunate side effect of a diet of synthetic blood - and Kurt is stumbling into Blaine’s apartment, stopping in the hallway to hang his coat and scoffing at the empty mirror across from him.
"Something wrong, darling?" Blaine asks, sliding an arm through Kurt’s and leading him to the living room where Blaine promptly collapses, dragging Kurt down with him. Kurt laughs through the sudden vertigo, stretching out next to Blaine and sighing heavily, his senses overwhelmed with the sharp smell of alcohol and Blaine’s cologne.
"I miss my reflection," Kurt admits, turning his head to meet Blaine’s dark, curious eyes. "I just— I miss looking at myself. It’s been 20 years since I was able to see what I’m doing when I style my hair, or see how well my shirts fit my shoulders, or- or see if I’ve aged gracefully or not.”
"You haven’t aged a day since you were bit, Kurt," Blaine reminds him gently. "An eternity without wrinkles: the greatest benefit to being undead, surely."
Anonymous asked: imagine one day blaine and kurt are making out and then blaine pulls back and kurt’s all confused because it was getting really good and blaine asks, “what would we do if there was an alien invasion?”
aka blaine being a huge dork, inspired by the time capsule video. PG-13.
Blaine invites Kurt over to his house to celebrate their six-month anniversary - made all the more sweet by the fact that they get to see each other every day at school now - and Kurt only raises an eyebrow when Blaine leads them straight up to his room, cheeks pink and palms a little sweaty.
Kurt gasps when he steps into Blaine’s tidy room, warmly lit by the dim glow of candles lining Blaine’s dresser and decorated with rose petals scattered across the bedspread. It fulfills every silly notion Kurt has of romance and he turns to Blaine, grinning widely, watching the way Blaine’s shoulders slump in relief.
"You like it," Blaine says with a hint of a smile, and Kurt leans in to kiss Blaine slowly, sweetly, just long enough to leave them both breathless.
early!klaine drabble based on this post: ”Can you imagine the awkwardness of Kurt and Blaine after they started dating at Dalton, randomly meeting in the bathroom because both needed to pee?”
PG-13. (this is not a kinky fic, unless you have a kink for sweet new boyfriends in awkward situations)
Kurt rarely leaves class for anything - especially not since he started at Dalton, where the curriculum is a pain in the ass compared to McKinley - but ever since he and Blaine began their trend of morning coffee dates (and now they’re actual date dates, too) Kurt’s come to realize his bladder can only last so long.
He hurries down the hall to the closest men’s restroom and opens the door with a relieved sigh that turns into a squeak of surprise when he sees that he’s not alone.
Blaine is standing in front of a urinal with his sleeves rolled up and his hand on his zipper, and Kurt says, “Blaine!” before he realizes the exact kind of situation they’re in, and how Blaine was seconds away from pulling out his… “Oh my god.”
"K- Kurt,” Blaine chokes out, startled, and Kurt watches him move to cover himself even though his pants are still zipped. “I, uh, I wasn’t expecting you.”
It takes nearly an hour just to come up with the title; Blaine’s final, very clever actually, suggestion of “Hit List,” being rejected right off the bat.
“Ugh, Blaine no,” Kurt says, crossing and uncrossing his ankles behind him, stretched out on his belly next to Blaine. “Ooh, To Do List.”
Kurt raises both eyebrows, in what Blaine guesses is a suggestive manner, only it kind of look like he’s having an eyebrow spasm. “Get it? Do?”
“You say no to ‘Hit List’ but “To Do List’ seems better somehow?”
Kurt huffs and snaps the eraser end of his pencil down on his spiral bound notebook, titles crossed out and hearts doodled in the margins. Snap, snap, snap. Blaine passes the time by kicking his legs behind him and drawing little robots dancing across the top of his page.
Kurt rips out the paper, tosses it in the general direction of his trash can, then writes something down in large, dark, angry letters on a fresh page.
In The Unlikely And Tragic Event That Our Marriage Does Not End With Us Passing In Our Sleep While Holding Hands And Smiling At The Age Of 102 The Following Is An Acceptable List Of Suitable Pre-Approved Second Husbands: