It was a regular Monday afternoon in Paris – a winter afternoon where the torrential downpour turned the otherwise cheerful city into a palette of greys and blues. Kurt fought the wind and rain which mostly bombarded his long trench coat missing his large black umbrella altogether. It was only a three block walk from the Metro to his and Blaine's apartment. They had moved to Paris from New York on a short-term stay in order for Kurt to advance his fashion career as the interim Editor-in-Chief of Vogue Paris (and effectively doing Isabelle Wright a favour). Blaine of course, being a songwriter – and a successful one at that - could work from anywhere and happily followed his husband to the romantic City of Lights.

Kurt finally entered their building – it was classic Parisian style architecture with a baby pink exterior and black iron balconies framing large rectangular windows. Kurt had fallen in love with the building at first sight but despite their more than decent pay cheques Blaine had been concerned about the monthly rent. In the end, though, he couldn't say no to his husband. He never could and really, he liked it that way.

Kurt shook his umbrella and climbed the three flights of stairs up to their suite. He entered and removed his outerwear and made his way into their large airy bedroom to change out of his suit and fix his wet and now unkempt hair before Blaine could make it home. They had gotten into the habit of Blaine picking up fresh food at the market, since his schedule was more flexible. They would cook dinner together and either spend a snuggly evening indoors or take in the fabulous city around them. After five years of marriage they were still irrevocably in love and enjoyed spending time together – no matter what city they were in.

"Je suis rentre," Blaine called out as he came into the apartment carrying a bag of fresh fish and vegetables. Blaine loved learning the language and culture and would try out new phrases out on Kurt all the time. It was a good thing Kurt was a quick learner because Blaine had immersed himself.

Kurt came in from their small rectangular kitchen to greet him when he stopped in his tracks. His eyes right away settled on the burst of colour around his husband's throat. "Blaine, is that a new bowtie?"

Blaine grinned because he knew that Kurt would notice right away. "Yep, I was walking to the market and popped into that cute boutique that we like. It was on sale and I just couldn't say no."

"It's beautiful, Blaine … you … it's … yeah." Kurt's noticed that his body was reacting very nicely to the way his husband looked in the new tie. He knew every item of clothing and every accessory in Blaine's wardrobe – it was Kurt's thing. He loved fashion, he loved Blaine and the two things put together were like an aphrodisiac for Kurt.

"Blood red has always been your colour," Kurt purred as he glided closer, placing his hands to Blaine's biceps and leaning in to peck a kiss to his still cold lips.

"Merci, mon coeur," Blaine said with a blush. "Do you like the little orange and lilac stripes too?"

"Yes," Kurt breathed moving even closer and tracing the triangular shape of the tie with a fingertip. "The lilac brings out your eyes … not that they need bringing out." Because they didn't, Blaine's eyes had always just shone on their own … in their own way.

Blaine noticed how entranced Kurt was with the new item. And maybe he had known how Kurt would react when he was still at the boutique deciding whether or not he should buy it. And maybe that is what finally pushed him to make the purchase. Kurt could never resist his bowties, which is probably the reason Blaine had such a grand collection of them. "I'm glad it gets the Kurt Anderson-Hummel seal of approval," Blaine grinned then pressed a kiss to Kurt's jawline, trailing back towards his ear.

"We … we need dinner," Kurt managed to gasp out as his entire body was set aflame by Blaine's very agile tongue.

"Later," Blaine murmured as his hands slid around Kurt's narrow waist. "Right now, I want to enjoy you."

"Ohgodpleaseyes," Kurt moaned.

Blaine knew he had him. "What do you say, sweetheart," he sing-songed teasingly.

"S'il vous plait," Kurt played along as he drew Blaine in closer by the bowtie.

"Ca serait avec plaisir," Blaine whispered as he pulled his husband toward their bedroom.

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A/N

Je suis rentre - i'm home

Merci, mon coeur - thank you, my heart

S'il vous plait - please

Ca serait avec plaisir - it would be a pleasure