Disclaimer: I don't own any of the familiar characters or places mentioned, just most of the plot!
A/N: I wrote this fic based off of the movie The Break-Up. It differs from the movie in a lot of ways, however. I have planned this out as a 5-8 chapter fic. If I make it longer/shorter, you'll know in advance. Please read and review! Enjoy! ((:
Thanks to my beta, Rachelle, for taking the time to fix all of my mistakes. (her beta profile: LoonyLegs01; her tumblr: behindthesehazeleyesxo)
As the curtain fell, blocking the actors from view and the lights in the theatre began to turn on, a voice coming from the loud speakers said, "We will now be having a twenty minute intermission. Refreshments are available in the main lobby, to your right, and bathrooms are to your left."
A moment later, a sea of people shifted from their seats and made their way towards the entrance of the theatre, leaving to get a snack or use the restroom. Blaine Anderson, a theatre nerd and guitar salesman, was one of these people. Alongside him stood his closest and best friend, Noah Puckerman, or, as his friends called him, Puck.
It took a short while for the two men to leave the theatre, and then they were making their way towards a table that was covered in an array of baked goods, sugary drinks, a few coffee makers, and dozens of water bottles.
Blaine snatched a water bottle and a box of his favourite candy, Milk Duds, and Puck picked up a soda and a bag of chips before they went to the end of the line. As they waited in the decent sized line, Blaine's eyes roamed around the room. His gaze stopped on a slender figure ahead of him and Puck in the line. The tall man had pale skin and perfectly styled hair. He wore an extravagant outfit; Blaine could tell, even though he wasn't a fashion expert, himself. He recognized the man, but he couldn't quite figure out where he had seen him before.
To the man's left stood a short brunette woman in a white sweater over a red dress that looked like it came straight out of the fifties. She wore white socks that reached the bottom of her calves and a pair of Mary Janes with heels. The girl laughed loudly at something the man had said, and she slipped her arm through his as they continued to talk.
The lights flickered as they handed their money over at his makeshift cash register. The people ahead of Blaine and Puck sighed and moved out of line, making their way back into the theatre. Blaine and Puck stayed in line, however, waiting for the couple a few feet from them pay for their refreshments.
Together, the two hurried away as Blaine and Puck came up to the register. They showed their items to the man, as he rung them up. Blaine paid swiftly with a swipe of his credit card and they headed back toward the theatre doors as quickly as possible.
Blaine stopped in the middle of the hallway when something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. On the floor lay a wallet. Blaine looked around, hoping to find its owner, but seeing no one.
"Come on, man, we gotta go in before they lock us out," Puck called to him. Blaine thought quickly, snatching up the wallet and heading after his friend.
He opened it, to check for an ID, and he was surprised to see that the wallet belonged to the man he saw in line. Blaine looked around the theatre, seeing the man almost instantly. That's where he remembered him from; the man sat a few seats over from Blaine. He looked at the name on the Driver's License. Kurt Hummel. He nodded to himself. Cool name.
"I'll be right back," Blaine whispered to Puck. "Dude, where are you going?" Puck asked as Blaine squeezed down the row of seats. He watched as Blaine stopped in front of a man and a woman, being his usual polite self. Puck smiled to himself. Maybe his best friend was going to be getting some, if he asked the pasty guy out.
"Excuse me?" Blaine said politely to the man in front of him, instantly getting both Kurt and the woman's attention.
"Yes?" Kurt asked, looking up at Blaine with beautiful blue eyes and raising a sculpted eyebrow at him.
"Uh…um…" Blaine drew a blank for a moment and then shook his head, expelling the sudden fog in his brain and squelching the sudden airiness in his stomach. "You dropped this out by the door," Blaine's eyes moved to the entrance doors and then back to Kurt's, as he held the wallet out to the man in front of him.
Kurt looked down at the wallet in confusion, a cute crease appearing between his eyebrows. He reached a hand down and patted his pants pocket and turned a faint shade of red. "Oh…I….I guess I did," he nodded, as he took the wallet from Blaine's hands. "Thanks."
"No problem," Blaine smiled kindly at him. "I'm gonna go back to my seat. I hope you enjoy the show," he said before nodding at Kurt and the woman to Blaine's left and then making his way back to his seat.
"What was that about?" Puck asked, raising an eyebrow at Blaine as he returned to his seat.
"The guy dropped his wallet," Blaine stated, focusing his eyes on the stage as the lights dimmed and the show resumed. He didn't notice Kurt staring at him from his seat.
Later that night, when the show was over, Blaine and Puck walked into a pub. They ordered drinks and sat at the bar, talking about the play they had just seen and watching the game.
The bell above the door of the pub tinkled, and then the door closed. Blaine was sipping at his beer when he heard a voice from behind him order in a high, yet masculine, voice, "Can I get a Shirley Temple for me and a beer for my friend?"
The bar tender nodded and then scurried off to make the two drinks. A second later, the two open stools beside Blaine were filled by the people who had just stood behind him and his eyes widened.
Oh no. They'll think I'm stalking them, he thought to himself as he saw Kurt and the girl from the theatre sitting together, unaware of Blaine's presence.
Blaine turned to Puck, who sat to his left. "Pst!" Blaine slapped his friend on the shoulder.
Puck, who was talking to a woman, paused whatever he was saying, apologizing and then turning to his friend. "What, man? Can't ya see I'm busy?" he whispered.
"I'm sorry," Blaine said, and then hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "That's the guy I returned to the wallet to in the theatre. What do I do?"
Puck raised an eyebrow at him and then looked at the man behind him, who seemed enthralled in the conversation he was having with the woman beside him. "It looks like he's got a girlfriend, so there's no need to worry. Right? Just chill. Okay?"
Blaine nodded, glancing once more at the couple next to him and then whispered, "I think I'll just go. I don't wanna creep them out." He stood from his stool and winked at his friend. "Have a nice night, man."
Puck smiled up at him and mock punched him on the shoulder before turning back to the pretty blonde girl he had been chatting with a moment ago. "So, your name's Quinn? I've never met anyone with that name before," he was saying as Blaine walked away.
He made his way to the restroom, standing at the sink for a moment to splash his face and calm the flutters in his stomach. Blaine went into a stall, emerged a few minutes later and walked over to the sink to wash his hands.
He heard the door behind him open and close and looked in the mirror, mentally smacking himself. There was Kurt. Of course.
Kurt walked up to the sink beside Blaine and put down what looked like a make up bag and pulled out a cream. It looked like moisturizer, from what Blaine could tell, as Kurt applied it to his face. Blaine shrugged and then hit the dispenser on the wall, lathering up his already damp hands before putting them under the spray of water coming from the faucet.
"You know," Kurt said, looking down at Blaine's hands in disgust, "that's not very sanitary."
Blaine looked up at the man, who was a few inches taller than him, with a raised eyebrow. "I just washed my hands, though," he stated dumbly.
Kurt rolled his eyes and rummaged through his bag, pulling out a bottle of hand sanitizer. "Yes, but you then touched the faucet knob to turn the water off. You touched it right after going to the bathroom. And do you know how many men have done that exact same thing?"
Blaine looked at the man before him in confusion. "A lot?"
"A lot," Kurt nodded, flicking the lid of the bottle, "hold out your palm."
Blaine did as commanded, and Kurt squeezed the clear gel into a puddle on Blaine's palm. He rubbed in the sanitizer and then said, "Better?"
"Better," Kurt nodded and then cocked his head at Blaine. "Do I know you from somewhere?" He paused, and then realization flashed on his face. "You were at the play. You found my wallet."
"Yep," Blaine nodded, his face turning a little red. Then he shifted from foot to foot, feeling awkward, before deciding he had better leave. "Uh…well, I better go. See ya."
He took a step towards the door before Kurt reached out and arm to stop him. "I mean, I don't believe in fate or soul mates or anything, but, um…" he looked down at his feet and bit his lip."Since we did see each other twice in one night, and you seem like a nice guy…maybe I could get your number? Maybe we can go for coffee some time?"
Blaine raised an eyebrow at Kurt, "Really? I thought you had a girlfriend…"
Kurt's eyes bulged for a moment and then he laughed. "Rachel's my best friend. Nothing more." Then, to clarify things, "I'm gay."
A smile played on Blaine's lips, "Really? Me too."
"Oh, that's good," Kurt let out a sigh of relief. "At least, that heightens the chance of you actually saying yes to my proposition."
Blaine snorted and then pulled out his phone. "What's your number?"
Kurt looked up at Blaine in surprise. "Is that a yes?"
"Yes," Blaine nodded with a smile. "By the way, my name's Blaine."
"I'm Kurt," Kurt said grinning widely.
Almost A Year Later
He awoke with a jolt, his body tingling all over as pleasure coursed through his veins. Kurt moaned aloud when he opened his eyes and looked down his stomach to find a curly head of hair between his thighs.
Blaine looked up at Kurt, his mouth still around him, and winked at the man before him. He relaxed his mouth and throat, allowing him to pull Kurt deeper into his mouth and continued sucking on his lover.
It didn't take long for Kurt to reach the brink. He fisted his hands, which had long since found their way into Blaine's hair, signalling that he was almost there. Blaine only sucked harder at this, and then Kurt was letting go and coming thickly down Blaine's throat. Blaine swallowed everything Kurt gave him and then sat up on his knees and licked his lips.
He smiled at Kurt before crawling over to his still dazed boyfriend and whispering a quick "Good morning," before kissing him on the lips. Sighing softly, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist and pulled him to lay flat on top of him.
After a few endless minutes of sweet kisses, Kurt groaned against Blaine's lips. "We'd better get up," he kissed Blaine one more time before slipping out from under him and standing up, still naked. "Sue's gonna kill me if I'm late again."
Blaine watched his boyfriend from the bed, his head resting in his palm Kurt searched for a pair of briefs and pouting when he found them.
"Why don't you just call in sick and stay in bed with me all day?"
Kurt looked over at Blaine with a raised eyebrow and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "That would mean that you would have to call in sick too," he smirked smugly as Blaine frowned, realizing that he was right.
"It's all right, though. We still have Sunday."
He walked over to the bed, kissing Blaine on the forehead one last time before making his way to the bathroom. "Oh," Kurt called from another room in their shared condo, "and don't forget that we have dinner with our parents tonight!"
Blaine made a face and then rolled over in bed, putting a pillow over his head and groaning. Today was going to be hell.
Kurt barely made it to work on time, thanks to Blaine forgetting to throw the clothes in the dryer last night and the fact that he'd also forgotten to fill the tank in the car after the last time he had gone out.
He tossed his satchel onto one of his leather arm chairs and then went to sit at his desk. Quickly logging into his computer, after putting on his glasses, he responded to a few e-mails and started to read the newest article from his new journalist's report on How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.
Kurt remembered that play. Blaine had really wanted to see it a last month, since he had been a Jonas Brothers fan and Nick Jonas was the new leading character. He, personally, had disliked the play. Whether it be that the songs weren't all that catchy, or the audience was far too loud for him to hear half the dialogue, Kurt didn't know.
As he read the article, he could tell that the new writer, Artie Abrahams, really enjoyed the play. When Kurt finished reading the article, he skimmed it a second time, finding mistakes that he missed and reworded one of Abraham's awkward word choices. Then, he sent the article back with his alterations.
"Porcelain," a voice came from the now open door of Kurt's office.
He rolled his eyes at the nickname, pausing in the article he was now reading, to look at his superior.
"Yes, Sue?"
"I have a favour to ask you," the tall blonde woman stated, walking into the office and closing the door behind. "Well," she considered, "since I'm your boss, it's less of a favour and more of an order."
Kurt sighed, pulling off his reading glasses, and looking up at the woman quizzically. "What do you need?"
"There's this awful choir group that performs concerts all over the city," Sue started, slapping a paper down in front of Kurt. "They're called the New Directions. I want you to write an article bashing them, so no one wants to ever hear or see them perform ever again."
Kurt looked down at the paper and read the short paragraph describing the school choir group. He sighed and looked up at his boss, handing back the paper.
"I'm sorry, Sue, but I'm going to have to say no to that."
He put his reading glasses back on and turned to his computer, reading the next article another, by the same author as before, about another play. Kurt was really impressed with the Abrahams guy. Maybe he could have a chat with the new guy and give him some tips.
"You can't say no to me, Hummel," Sue said, her voice menacing. "I could fire you."
Kurt's eyes didn't even stray from his computer screen as he said in a nonchalant voice, "I'm the best editor and head of the Arts section of the paper that you've ever had." He typed away a quick reply and then turned to Sue one last time. "You wouldn't want to lose your job by firing me. Now, please, leave. I have work to do."
Sue growled low in her chest as Kurt turned back to his computer. She stormed out of the office, slamming the glass door behind her. Kurt's secretary, Brittany, watched as the angry woman stomped from the office. She twirled her hair on her finger tip and answered the ringing phone in front of her.
"Hi," she said into the phone. After a moment, she nodded, "Yeah, this is Mister Hummel's secretary." She blew a bubble with her gum as she listened to the person on the other line. "Yeah, I guess that's cool. I'll tell him." She chewed her gum a few more times before placing the phone back in its holder.
She walked into Kurt's office. "Kurt," she called lightly to him, getting his attention.
"Brit," Kurt acknowledged her before turning back to her and nodding for her to continue.
"That guy from that perish school called," she stated. "He wants you to call him back."
"Perish school?" Kurt looked over at her in confusion, and then it dawned on him. "Oh, Parson's?"
"Yeah, that," she nodded with a smile on her face.
Kurt smiled at her and shook his head. "All right. I'll call him back soon. Thank you, Brittany."
She nodded at him, her ponytail moving around wildly before she walked back out to her desk and took a seat in her comfy desk chair.
Blaine let out a huge yawn as he stretched his arms over his head, exposing a little bit of skin on his toned stomach. The two girls across the room who had been staring at him all morning looked, practically drooling.
He smirked at his co-worker and pulled down his shirt. "So, how's it goin', man?"
"Same old, same old," Nick Duval shrugged, looking over Blaine's shoulder. "They're coming over here, Blaine."
Blaine looked over his shoulder and muttered, "Do I have to get I'm Gay tattooed on my forehead for girls to stop hitting on me?"
He turned around, just as the girls who had been staring at him all day walked up to him, flirty smiles on their faces. "What can I do for you ladies today?"
"We'd…um…like your help," the short blonde one said.
Blaine looked at the girls expectantly for a moment, hoping they would continue. "With what?" he asked after a few moments of silence. He could hear Nick snickering in the background and mentally flipped him off.
"We don't know which guitar would be better to buy," the taller brunette one explained. She pointed to a rack across the store filled with Gibson Les Paul's.
"Hm…good choices," he murmured before making his way over to the stand. The girls made sure to follow behind him, so they could look at his ass.
Nick continued to snicker as he went back to the Fender racks and lightly dusted them off.
Blaine arrived home hours later, plopping on the couch the second the door was closed, his coat was thrown somewhere, and his shoes were kicked off by the door. He grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and switched on the TV. He turned on a college football game. Tonight, the Titans were playing.
Kurt scurried into the front room, his face red and his apron smattered in flour. "Did you get them?" he asked as he walked into the living room where Blaine was sprawled on the couch, his feet up on the arm rest.
"Yep," Blaine nodded absently as he reached over to pick up a bag off of the coffee table. He handed it to Kurt and returned to watching the game.
Kurt looked down at the bag of lemons in his hands and closed his eyes, trying to keep his cool. "You only got three lemons, Blaine," he whispered.
"Hey, can you get me a beer, sweetie?" Blaine asked a moment later, obviously, unaware that Kurt had spoken.
"You only got three lemons, Blaine," Kurt repeated, louder this time, ignoring Blaine's request.
Blaine looked up at him in confusion. "That's what you asked for, baby."
"No," Kurt's voice rose a little higher, "I asked for twelve lemons. Twelve!" By now, Kurt was almost screaming.
Blaine sat up, his hands up in surrender. "Sheesh. I'm sorry, Kurt. I guess I misunderstood you."
"I reminded you five times," Kurt growled. "How am I supposed to make a centrepiece with three god damn lemons, huh? How? Three lemons won't fill a vase."
"Those were for a centrepiece?" Blaine scrunched his nose, as he continued to watch the game. "Anyway, why don't you just put them in a drinking glass or something? It'll still be a centrepiece," he looked up at Kurt, finally, "only mini." He smiled up at Kurt expectantly.
"No," Kurt spat, throwing the lemons down on the hard wood floor and storming into the kitchen. "You can't do anything I ask you to do, can you?"
Blaine heard loud shuffling in the kitchen. Sounds of pots and pans being banged together and glasses clinking together could be heard in the front room. He sighed, running a hand through his still gelled hair and clicked the remote to pause the TV.
He walked into the kitchen, seeing his boyfriend leaning over the stove and stirring something.
"Baby," he started, but Kurt interrupted him. "You need a shower. Everyone will be here soon."
Blaine rolled his eyes and shrugged, walking back into the front room and turning the volume back on.
"Sure, just after this play," he announced, his attention back on the game.
He heard one last bang from the kitchen, and then Kurt was storming in front of the TV, and manually turning it off. "No, get a shower now, Blaine."
Blaine squinted at Kurt and then pressed the power button on the remote, "After. This. Play." He shrugged, "I have time."
Kurt bit his lip hard and walked over to Blaine, snatching the remote away from him and turning off the TV. Then, the doorbell rang and Kurt cursed, "See? I told you they would be here soon? Can you please get the door while I go take my apron off?"
Blaine shook his head, running toward the bathroom. "Sorry, baby, I gotta go get a shower."
Kurt watched as Blaine ran down the hall and disappeared into the bathroom. He shook his head in anger and went to answer the door.
"Hey, guys," he greeted the people at the door cheerfully.
Dinner was not going as well as Kurt had planned. There was supposed to be tons of catching up between the families, who hadn't seen each other in a while, but the Hummel-Hudson's, Kurt's father, Burt, his step mother, Carole, his step brother, Finn, and his sister in law, Rachel, all sat awkwardly across from Blaine's parents, the Andersons.
Blaine's father was a serious man, who had made it very clear that he didn't approve of Blaine and Kurt's lifestyle. In fact, the only reason he was here at all tonight was because Blaine's mother, a serious woman, but much more accepting than her husband, had responded to Kurt's dinner invitation as quickly as possible to give him a resounding yes.
And, to add to the tension in the air, Kurt and Blaine hadn't looked at each other since dinner had started. They sat at opposite ends of the table, staring down at their plates with matching looks of annoyance on their faces.
Finn bit his lip and then turned to Blaine, "So, did you see the Titans game? They kicked some serious ass." Rachel elbowed him in the ribs and he corrected himself, "I…I mean butt."
Blaine looked up at Finn sarcastically, "No. I didn't. I tried to watch the highlights earlier, but Kurt went anal and told me to turn it off."
Kurt dropped his for on his plate and looked up at his boyfriend with fire in his eyes. "At least, I wasn't sitting on the couch and getting fat, when I should have been helping my boyfriend clean the house and cook dinner."
The Hummel-Hudson's and the Andersons shifted awkwardly in their seats looking at each man before staring back down at their meals and taking small bites.
Carole cleared her throat, breaking the intense silence, "The meal is lovely, Kurt. You're a great cook."
Kurt looked up at his stepmother and smiled at her gratefully, though it looked like it pained him to smile at all, "Thanks, Carole."
"Yeah," Blaine nodded, "it was a nice meal. A little dry, and sauce was a little watery, but great all the same."
Kurt looked up at Blaine, his mouth slightly agape. "Next time, get off your lazy ass and make dinner yourself, if you don't like the food I make."
"Fine," Blaine gritted out, as he pushed his plate away and stood up. "I'm done with my meal."
Kurt clenched and unclenched his fists and bit his lip. He looked at the plates around him and realized they were all empty. "Is everyone done?" he asked.
Everyone at the table nodded, and Kurt stood up, taking their dishes. He walked into the kitchen and placed the dishes next to the sink.
When he returned the dining room, everyone was pulling on their coats, and the room was still awkwardly silent. Kurt hugged Mrs Anderson before she left with her husband, and then he hugged and kissed all of his family members before they left the apartment.
After the door had closed, Kurt stood there for a moment and then sighed. He walked toward the kitchen, where Blaine was sitting in the same position as he had when he had an arrived home from work, getting ready to turn on the TV.
"Come wash the dishes with me?"
Blaine looked up at Kurt before shaking his head. "Nah," he looked at the TV, looking for the Titans highlights that he had missed earlier. "We can do 'em tomorrow."
"No," Kurt shook his head, "let's do them now."
"No, later," Blaine said, shaking his head again.
Kurt took a deep breath. "Please, just do the dishes with me. It'll take fifteen minutes."
"I don't want to do them right now," Blaine stated, annoyed. "Why can't they just wait 'til tomorrow?"
"Because you know I hate waiting to do the dishes over night," Kurt gritted through his teeth. He shook his head and then hunched his shoulders, "Fine. I'll do them by myself."
He walked into the kitchen, Blaine watching him go. He sighed and rolled his eyes and then got off of the couch and went into the kitchen. "Fine, I'll do them. Sheesh."
"No, it's fine," Kurt shook his head.
"Really," Blaine said, trying to pull a plate out of Kurt's death grip. "I insist."
"No!" Kurt shouted after a moment, stopping Blaine in his tracks. "I don't want your help, Blaine!"
"Why not? You just made a huge fuss over me doing the dishes, and now that I said I'll do them-"
"That's the point," Kurt shook his head, starting to clean the dishes. "You're only doing them because you feel bad. Not because you want to do the dishes."
Blaine scrunched his nose in confusion. "Who wants to do the dishes?"
"That's not what I mean," Kurt sighed, placing the dish on the drying rack and going for another plate.
"Then, what do you mean?" Blaine crossed his arms and leaned against the counter behind him.
Kurt dropped the plate in his hand noisily into the sink and turned to Blaine, fury in his eyes. "I mean that I want you to want to help out around here. I want you to want to help me do the dishes. I want you to do the laundry when I ask you to. I want you to fill up the car when I ask you to."
Then, he shook his head. "No, I actually want you to do those things without me asking you to do them."
"I seem to recall doing something for you without you asking me to this morning," Blaine muttered.
"That's not the same thing," Kurt said after a pause, "and you know it."
"What do you want from me? I come home from work and I just want twenty minutes to myself, so I can relax and watch the game and take off the load I get from work each day. Do you know how hard it is to work at your father's guitar shop? It's like he's always looking over my fucking shoulder, and I hate it!" Blaine hollered, his facing turning red from exertion.
"I work too, you know!" Kurt yelled right back. "I have to put up with Sue Sylvester for the entire day, and, on top of that, I have to come home, cook, clean, do the dishes, fill up the tank in the car, clean up all of your messes, and do all of this shit for you that you should do yourself, but you're too fucking lazy to do!"
"Why can't you just leave me alone, huh? I work hard everyday, trying to make it so you don't have to work, and you don't even thank me!" Blaine was getting angrier by the second.
"I want to work, Blaine! I want to go back to school! But, you don't understand that. I'm too busy doing everything for you and you should be the one thanking me!" Kurt growled.
"What have you done for me? I do everything for you! I work to pay our bills! To buy us nice things!" Blaine gritted his teeth at the man in front of him.
"What have I done for you? What have I…?" Kurt let out a loud groan. "Like I said, I cook, clean, do the laundry, do our taxes, buy your clothes, and I go to every play you want to see. Have you ever gone to a fashion show with me? No! Not once! I only do what you want to do!"
Blaine crossed his arms. "You know I hate fashion shows! And, for god's sake! You're a theatre critic! I thought you would want to see those plays!"
"Not the stupid ones like the one about that business man or the one about the football coach!" Kurt screamed.
"Just leave me alone. Jesus! I do tons around here! You're just over exaggerating. Just leave me alone, god damn it!" Blaine ran a hand through his loosely gelled hair and felt a few curls break loose.
"Is that what you want? Really? You want me to leave you alone?" Kurt asked his anger reaching its boiling point.
"Yes," Blaine nodded.
"Fine!" Kurt screeched. "I will leave you alone then!" He walked out into the front room, walking down the hallway toward the bedroom. Blaine was close behind him. Kurt stopped for a moment and turned to Blaine. "I can't keep doing this! I deserve to be with someone who actually gives a shit about me!"
He was fuming when he finally screamed the two words that stopped them both dead in their tracks.
"We're over!"
Blaine looked at Kurt with wide eyes. "What?" he whispered softly. "Baby, come on…"
"Don't call me that," Kurt's voice was hoarse, mostly because he had just been screaming, but also because he was fighting back tears. "I'm going to bed. Good night." He continued walking down the hallway to the bedroom and slammed the door shut, breaking down as soon as the door was locked.
Blaine could hear his sobs from down the hallway and walked dejectedly over to the couch, pulling out the pull out bed. He stripped down to his boxers and laid on the lumpy bed, cursing himself until he finally fell into a restless sleep.
Please, leave a review! The next chapter should be up soon! Thanks for reading! ((: