So this started off as I was going to try and write smut for the first time, but for some reason, as much as I read it, I cannot bring myself to write it down. Naturally, I end up writing the fluffiest thing ever. xD Anyway, I'm keeping this as Complete and rated T for now unless end up writing Chapter 2 if I can think of a tasteful way to do so, but it all depends on my personal ability to develop a successful kink of mine. I would love to continue this, but I can't make any promises. Meanwhile, enjoy a little future!Klaine...
Kurt's legs were crossed straight out in front of him under the sheet, the comforter down bunched up at his ankles. He wore simple black framed reading glasses that he'd detested at first, but learned to live with after he realized how much he needed them as he crossed out, highlighted and made notes all over the stacks of papers in front of him. Being editor-in-chief of Vogue magazine was far from the easiest job he'd ever had, but he hardly ever complained, because he loved it so much. Revising articles on Thursdays at midnight was just part of the process. They went to print on the third Friday of every month, and he knew he would most likely be up all night.
He still wore his navy and white pinstriped work shirt, the top buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but had slipped off his black skinny jeans to just plain, white, boxer-briefs. He was tired, but this needed to get done.
When Blaine walked in from the bathroom, shirtless with dark gray sweatpants, Kurt didn't look up from his work. And he was far too concerned with how one of his writers managed to misspell Versace seven times in a row to notice Blaine climbing into bed, turning off his desk lamp, and rolling over to face away from him. Only when he finished reading the article did he look over to his fiancée, reach his left arm out and begin to massage Blaine's right shoulder softly.
But Blaine wasn't asleep like Kurt had assumed he was and shrugged off Kurt's hand, scooting even closer to the edge of the bed. Kurt was confused and set his pen down on the paper next to him and leaned his left side of his body down closer to Blaine.
"What's wrong, BB?" he asked, using a voice normally directed towards infants and small animals.
"Nothing," Blaine mumbled, pulling the comforter up closer to his face.
Kurt shifted his weight and set his right hand on the blanket that was covering Blaine's arm so that he could get a better look at him. From what he could see, Blaine's eyes were open, but he had no visible emotion except for possibly annoyance from the way he pouted.
"Did something happen between dinner and now, hun?" Kurt began. "Because you were fine not five hours ago."
"I'm fine," Blaine groaned, trying to pull away from Kurt but having no where else to go since he was already at the very edge of the bed. "Go do some of your work or something."
Now Kurt was the one pouting, obviously not liking the fact that Blaine wasn't telling him what was wrong. "I don't want to do my work. I want to talk to you."
Blaine rolled his eyes. "That'd be a first."
Kurt's left arm began to fall asleep, and he moved closer to Blaine, resting more on the pillow and less on himself. "What's this about, hm? You upset about something?"
Blaine moved the blanket away from his mouth so that he could talk clearly. "I never bring my work home with me."
"Bullshit!" Kurt laughed.
Blaine's gaze finally moved up to the man next to, and sort of on top of him. "You don't see me carrying around a binder of papers everywhere I go for a week every month. And I mean everywhere. You take that thing to the bathroom with you."
"That's cause you're an actor, Blaine. Your job has different requirements." Kurt looked at Blaine's face who had scrunched in eyebrows and a jutted bottom lip that was open ever so slightly. He mimicked his fiancée's lower voice. "Kurt. Help me run lines. I have an audition tomorrow."
Kurt was smiling, but Blaine's face just fell flat again as he rested his head back on its side away from Kurt. "47 days."
"Huh?" Kurt said, brushing some fallen curls out of Blaine's face.
"It's been 47 days since you even mentioned the word 'wedding,'" Blaine clarified. "And we've been engaged for seven months."
Kurt finally understood why he was angry, but he almost wished he didn't. He felt bad about the situation, and he knew this conversation was inevitable, but why couldn't it wait for a little while longer? He really did have a lot of work to get done in the next 12 hours.
"Sometimes," Blaine continued, "I feel like you don't even want to marry me anymore."
Kurt sighed, moving his hand to under the comforter so he could run his fingers softly up and down Blaine's bare back. "Of course I want to marry you! Do you think I would've bought this house with you if I wasn't one billion percent sure that I want to spend every minute of every day for the rest of my life with you?"
Blaine's lip quivered as he thought this over and looked up at Kurt. "Then why do I sometimes feel like you love your job more than you love me?"
Kurt was quite close to Blaine at this point, his chin resting in the nook between his neck and shoulder. "Do you remember what I said when I proposed to you? That I would literally kill to be your husband?"
Blaine smiled, barely visible and hardly there, but it was a smile at least.
"Well, this is me killing," Kurt explained. "I know that I have to work my ass off at this job so that we can do the whole 'happily ever after' thing. I mean, that's what you want, right? Go hard or go home?"
Blaine shrugged, turning his body to get a better view of Kurt. "If you're there, I'd rather just go home."
Kurt laughed out again, making it apparent that he agreed with him. "But look at me, honey. I'm Anna Wintour."
This time Blaine laughed as well, biting hit lip quickly as if to remind himself that he was still supposed to be mad at Kurt. "Yeah, and I'm the lowly ingenue who's biggest claim to fame is his fiancée."
"No, no," Kurt shook his head. "You're a budding starlet! Look at me; I've peaked. It's all downhill from here for me. You? You've got a bright future ahead of you!"
"Hey," Blaine smiled, finally looking to Kurt's eyes with familiar kindness. "As long as you're in my future, I could give a damn."
Kurt smirked and placed a kiss on Blaine's ear. "I have an idea!"
"Hm?"
"Do you know what tomorrow is?" Kurt asked, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.
"Print day?" Blaine offered, rolling his eyes playfully, because asif he didn't know that. When print day was coming up, Kurt made sure everyone knew it.
"Friday," Kurt's grin turned into a full, wide smile. "And as far as the evening goes, I don't think either of us has anything planned. For Saturday either, to be honest. So if for some reason we're unusually exhausted Saturday morning... It's not like we're missing anything."
"Kurt," Blaine chuckled. "The fact that you still find other ways to say 'Let's have sex' is highly amusing."
"Fine," Kurt straightened his posture as much as possible while practically lying down. "Tomorrow night. Kitchen Floor. 6 PM. Let's fuck. Deal?"
Blaine began laughing harder now. "God; That's even funnier."
Kurt rolled his eyes with a smile and sat up straight. There was no way he was going to finish all this work tonight, so he closed his binder, set it on the floor next to the bed and turned off his light. The moonlight shone through the curtain so the room wasn't completely dark as Kurt pulled the blanket up around him and snuggled close to Blaine, wrapping one arm around his torso.
"I love you," Blaine scooted in even closer to Kurt so he wasn't about to fall off the bed.
"I love you," Kurt said, his lips barely grazing Blaine's curly hair.
There was a moment of silence as the two men closed their eyes and became comfortable in the darkness.
"Goodnight, little spoon," Kurt whispered, secretly knowing that it made Blaine frustrated to be a couple inches shorter than him.
"Goodnight, big spoon," Blaine answered back, secretly loving being held that closely.
And even though Kurt woke up a couple hours later, knowing that he would have to work extra quickly to make up for his four hours of missed time, he really did sleep beautifully.