This came solely from the mental image of Blaine with this umbrella, y'all.
Being a Broadway performer meant that there were a lot of uncertainties in Kurt's life every month, as jobs were hard to come by and not guaranteed to last. Regardless, Kurt counted on one particular place making a regular appearance: his hair salon, a tiny shop he'd found after scouring the city for stylists who knew more about men's hair than changing the setting of the razor guard but also didn't charge an arm and a leg for service. Kurt would have to be literally dying before he'd consider missing his monthly appointment with Isaac - it had taken too much work to find him.
Since Kurt was mobile and conscious, he had kept his April appointment, unexpected broken arm be damned. It wasn't like he needed two arms to let someone else wash, treat, and style his hair, after all. He'd even shrugged off Blaine's worried "at least take a jacket!" as he'd left their apartment, knowing he didn't have anything wide-sleeved enough to fit over his cast.
"Well, that was a bad decision," Kurt muttered to himself when he stepped out of the salon two hours later. He was safe under the slight burgundy awning, but the rest of the world was getting soaked by a freak rainstorm that would ruin both his hair and the padding of his cast if he left his shelter. "Guess I'm going to have to wait here for a while."
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his various social media apps, hoping that the rain would pass before he ran down his battery too much. Of course, that would simply be too easy.
"Fuck, I think it's raining even harder," Kurt said once he'd fruitlessly refreshed his Twitter for the fifth time. "Just my luck."
Looking both ways reflexively, Kurt pushed forward from the wall and tried to head in the direction of home. Before he could even take a step, though, he heard a yell from behind him.
"Freeze!"
Kurt spun to see a very familiar figure rushing up to him, bright red heart-shaped umbrella aloft.
"I knew you'd try to walk home in the rain, I just knew it," Blaine said, puffing slightly as he met Kurt under the awning and lowered his umbrella. "You, Kurt Anderson-Hummel, are so predictable."
"What other options did I have, Blaine?" Kurt asked, arching an eyebrow. While he couldn't say he wasn't happy to see his husband, Blaine was about to be sleeping on the couch that night if he didn't change his tone soon.
"Oh, I dunno, calling your husband to come usher you home?" Blaine said, giving Kurt a pointed look. "Or did you run down your battery scrolling through the cats of Instagram tag again?"
"I didn't want to inconvenience you!" Kurt said, ignoring Blaine's other, correct comment.
"Babe, it's more inconvenient for me to have to watch you mope about your hair being ruined than it is for me to come get you when you need me," Blaine said. "Plus, your cast smells really funky when it gets wet."
"Thank you, B," Kurt said with a scowl. "You're truly one of the kindest men I know."
"Aww, honey," Blaine said, leaning in to kiss Kurt briefly. "I'm here because I love you, you know that."
"I know," Kurt admitted, huffing a gentle sigh as the fight went out of him. "Not many other husbands would come rescue their partners from certain hair-related doom if they didn't have to."
"I'm pretty great, it's true," Blaine said, ducking away from Kurt's playful swat. "Hey, careful! Not with the cast arm!"
"Oops, sorry!" Kurt said, pulling his arm closer to his chest. "I'm so used to its weight that I kind of forget it's there sometimes."
"Only two more weeks!" Blaine said cheerfully, crossing to Kurt's other side so he could link arms with Kurt's uninjured side. "So let's try to keep it from growing mold before then, yeah?"
"Good plan," Kurt agreed, snuggling in close to Blaine, who put the umbrella up over both of their heads. He wanted to stay dry, of course, but he was also getting a little chilly in his thin button-down, and Blaine was always abundantly warm. "I'd probably pass out in the procedure room if I saw mold on my skin once they cut this thing off of me."
"Ugh," Blaine said, shuddering lightly as they started walking home.
"You're the one who mentioned mold in the first place!" Kurt said. "How are you the one grossed out by it?"
"I didn't actually picture it until right now and it's giving me the heebie-jeebies," Blaine said, looking a little green. "Can we change topics, please?"
"Wuss," Kurt teased gently. "Hey, do you want to marathon House Hunters tonight? I think the new season is starting."
"Only if we can play the drinking game."
"Like we'd watch House Hunters without playing the drinking game," Kurt said with a scoff. "How am I supposed to handle Mark and Judy Jones from Winnetka whining about needing granite counters and double sinks without alcohol?"
"I knew there was a reason I married you," Blaine said, laughing quietly.
"Makes up for me not listening to you telling me to take a coat, right?"
"Oh no, I had to cuddle my husband as we walk home from the hair salon, guess I'd better start the divorce proceedings," Blaine joked. "If this is what happens every time you forget a coat, I can probably handle it."
Kurt didn't bother responding, choosing instead to make sure he was securely under the eaves of their building before leaning in to kiss Blaine. "I love you."
"I love you too. Now let's get inside, I think this umbrella just dripped water down my underwear.
Kurt's cackles of laughter echoed off the walls of their building's tiny foyer.