A bit of fluff for this cooooold day.
"Well, here goes nothing," Kurt said, settling back into the cozy armchair in his and Blaine's living room. He had a basket full of yarn wedged between himself and the side of the chair, two needles in his hands, and a short how-to video cued up on the TV - everything he needed to learn how to knit.
Sutton, their kitten, chirped from her bed in the corner.
"Are you encouraging me, Suts?" Kurt asked, adopting a baby-talk tone that he could never shake when addressing the cat. "Are you ready for me to make us all matching sweaters for our Christmas cards next winter?"
Another loud meow.
"I'm taking that as a yes," Kurt said. He leaned over to hit play on the nearby remote, then watched as the instructor explained how to cast on and start the first row. It took him a couple of tries, but he eventually managed to make a decent slipknot and create a few stitches, wobbly though they were.
"Maybe we'll all have to settle for matching scarves," Kurt mused, pursing his lips as he took in his knitting. "It is only my first day, though."
Kurt yanked out his row and started over, wanting whatever he ended up making to at least look passable. His wrists were beginning to feel stiff from the unfamiliar position, but he thought his newest attempt was already looking a little better than his first try. He was knitting slowly but surely when a truck honked unexpectedly out on the street, making him jump and knock over his yarn basket. The skein he was working with spilled all over his lap, while the other balls he had purchased tumbled to the floor.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said to Sutton, who was yowling frantically and running toward him. "It's okay, Sutton, it was just a truck."
He shifted his needles to his left hand and bent down to pet her gently with his right, feeling her little body trembling beneath her bristled ginger-and-white fur.
"That's right - hey!"
Sutton bit the piece of yarn looped around his wrist and started running with it, darting beneath the chair and back out again multiple times so that he was tied to the leg. She then shifted her attention to one of the other skeins Kurt had dropped, seizing an end in her mouth and wiggling a length free with her paws. That piece of yarn ended up tying his left ankle to the other leg of the chair, leaving him well and truly stuck.
So of course, his phone, which he'd left on the coffee table, would start ringing just then.
"Shit, it's Blaine," Kurt said, recognizing the special ringtone he'd given his husband. "Oh God, please don't let him be calling to say he's going to be late for lunch."
After a minute of Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud" played, Kurt's phone went silent.
"Maybe I can get myself out of this before Blaine even gets here," Kurt said after a moment. "I have my left hand free - but if I start messing around with the yarn too much, I'll probably pull out all my stitches."
He went quiet again as he contemplated the slight progress he'd made on his project - definitely a scarf, he'd decided.
"Damn it. Blaine's never going to let me live this down."
Kurt sighed just as his phone started ringing again, signaling another call from Blaine.
And then again, a couple minutes later.
And one more time after that.
"Is someone dying?" Kurt wondered aloud. "He cannot possibly be so concerned about what I want for take-out."
Footsteps pounding along the hallway drew Kurt's attention, especially when they stopped outside the front door. He watched as Blaine practically yanked the door off its hinges as he ran inside at top speed.
"Kurt!"
"Down here," Kurt said, feeling himself flush with embarrassment - not that he could get much redder, with his head forced down by his arm the way it was.
"Oh my God," Blaine said, rushing over and dropping to his knees near Kurt. "Oh my God, okay, you're conscious, thank goodness."
"What? Why wouldn't I be conscious?" Kurt asked.
"I called four times! One or two missed calls isn't concerning, but four?" Blaine said, wild-eyed. "I knew you planned on staying home today, too, so it's not like you were on the subway and couldn't get service. I thought you'd passed out in the shower or something!"
"No, I'm just - all tied up," Kurt said sheepishly. "Help?"
"What? Yes, of course," Blaine said. He shook his head before carefully untying Kurt from the chair legs, helping him ease down to the floor and rest against the front of the chair once he was free. "Don't move too quickly - you could pass out from a head rush."
"I'm fine," Kurt said, placing his needles on the ground next to him before shaking out his right shoulder. "Stiff, but fine."
"How did you even get into that position?" Blaine asked, wrapping an arm around Kurt's shoulders gently.
"Sutton," Kurt said, a slight scowl on his face. "She got spooked by a truck horn and took it out on my yarn."
"Well, clearly she's over it," Blaine said, leaning up to check out her den. "Seeing as she's curled up with her mouse toy and fast asleep."
"Now that she's worked all the demon energy out, she's probably exhausted," Kurt grumbled heatlessly - he already knew once he took a look at the cat, he'd forgive her.
"You're really okay?" Blaine asked softly. Kurt could see the last vestiges of fear and panic in his eyes, and his own heart squeezed in response.
"I'm really okay," Kurt said, taking Blaine's free hand in his own. "Starving, though."
"I was calling to ask if you wanted to go to that Mediterranean place for lunch - shawarma sounds so good to me right now."
"You had me at shawarma. But first-" Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine, cupping a hand around his cheek. "That's for rescuing me. Wanted to get that in before we both had the most disgusting garlic breath."
"You'd let garlic breath stop you from kissing me?" Blaine said, faux-wounded.
"I suppose we'll find out after lunch," Kurt teased.
(It most definitely did not stop them.)