So I know that I'm really late with this, but I've been super busy and totally in love with WTTIR… ; ) but I've had this rolling around in my head for a while now, it's kinda-sorta my little reaction drabble to 5x16 Tested and it's based around a month or so after that episode and probably during some of the later episodes (in the bits that you don't get to see), just a little fluffy thing, hopefully ; ) Enjoy!
Kurt's shoulder burned from the strap of his leather satchel digging in too tight, his forearm ached from the weight of the three heavy books he had balanced between it and his chest, his hands and fingers were a little sore from his earlier combat class and that's not to mention the quake in his thighs and calves from his early morning run with Sam before half of New York were even awake.
His eyes felt heavy and tired and his toes bunched up in his new jazz shoes whilst they stretched out and gave a little, and it was only just gone Twelve-Thirty, he still had Three more classes left of the afternoon, yet he roamed the NYADA halls happily with a spring in his step and a toothy smile on his face.
He clutched the small brown paper bag in his free hand tightly and neatly as he curiously peeked through each open doorway as he made his way past, it was lunch period for most students and the corridors and classrooms were emptier than usual, but he knew that the performance rehearsal room at the end of this hallway, last on the left, would most definitely be occupied with the sounds of chords and lyrics filling the air. Every now and then Kurt liked, he loved to do this, to treat Blaine and surprise him, and to just see him.
Classes and work were hard and tiring, New York was hard and tiring, and the detrimental effect the lifestyle was leaving behind on Kurt and his life and more importantly Blaine and their relationship had become only too obvious in the recent weeks. They were working things out though, they were learning, they talked, they pretended, they fought and learnt from their mistakes and made-up in the best of ways, Kurt couldn't expect or want much else or more, at least they weren't going backwards, anything but that.
They still weren't living together yet but it was coming, he knew it, they still spent more than enough time with each other, spending more time together in each other's homes than alone in their own, but still offering the other time and space, respectively.
Their schedules still lined up together sometimes but Blaine switched one of his classes to something that he actually liked and wanted to learn from as appose to just being in it because Kurt was there, he didn't have to do that now, he knew that, they loved each other no matter how much they seen or didn't of each other in school. However there was no denying the way Blaine's face would light up whenever he'd spot Kurt coming towards him after looking all over the building for him, with lunch in his hands and a welcoming smile on his lips that he just wanted to kiss and taste and keep for the rest of the day.
As Kurt neared the end of the hall where he could see one half of the double doorway was left slightly ajar, Kurt's stomach fluttered with both hunger and pleasant anticipation of seeing Blaine. Today he had brought them finger cucumber sandwiches on wholemeal bread, non-roasted and lightly salted cashew nuts and some generous slices of watermelon, with bottles of pomegranate juice.
They were still focusing a little on eating and cooking healthier after that whole 'thing' a while back when Blaine thought of himself as insecure, and not strong anymore and loosing the 'race'. Kurt could still shudder at the thought, at the way Blaine looked at him that night when it all came pouring out, and how he had tried to talk about it but just couldn't get through, but again like everything else, that was behind them now, they were better, Blaine was better.
Of course Blaine loved how strong Kurt had become, in both body and mind, he was the man that Blaine had always seen within, it was just a surprise that's all, a nice surprise, to see him so sought after, but that and the not so great timing mixed with the internal worries and the self-depreciating thoughts that Blaine had already been having, and of course the undiagnosed comfort eating, was not a good combo for the couple. Water under the bridge.
For the first Four weeks straight after that they grocery shopped together for fruit and vegetables, mostly fresh and organic and without any extra cost than the more preferred 'calorific' food, they cooked together, taking turns with who's kitchen to use and would freeze the leftovers for the next few night's dinners. They were still taking the 'Ab class' together down at the gym and had even bumped up to intermediate level, and when Blaine had gotten over the worst of his self-confidence issues and his fitness had increased a little back to what it was, he even started running with he and Sam in the evenings.
Eventually they had stopped being too tough on themselves constantly, now that Blaine had learned that he could enjoy chocolate and pastry and dough and carbs of any kind within a reasonable amount and not all to be consumed within one day, they allowed themselves to order in once in a while. Kurt had even lightened up on his own strict regime, he was tall and slim, that was his build, the way he was born, the muscle and the definition came with age and puberty (and gorgeously so) and he could allow himself a slice of cheesecake or two or three now and then like he did back high school. At the end of the day, they are still young men, growing and learning in both physical and spiritual states.
They started to have fun with it and deliciously like when Rachel had left the loft early one Sunday morning for a day at the theater and Blaine had stayed over the night before. Kurt was in his bedroom in the middle of his morning press-ups (50 as apposed to 100-because come on) when Blaine came in with his now healthier but just as tasty tray of fresh fruit and Greek yogurt, grilled bacon and toasted crackers and coffee and fruit juice. Usually Blaine would get back into bed, get himself all comfy and settled with the tray balanced perfectly in the middle, and wait for Kurt to finish and come and join him, or he'd set the tray aside and join in for the last set but for whatever reason on that day he was feeling particular playful.
Kurt was still only wearing a pair of Black of Armani boxer-briefs with a white trim around the waist and buttons down the front, he'd put them on after a delightful wakeup call in the form of Blaine's tongue and hands, and he himself had thrown on just a pair of grey sweatpants to go and make breakfast.
His muscles rippled along his back and shoulders and arms with every push up and down, and a light sheen of sweat dribbled deliciously along the nape of his neck and down the curve of his spine.
It had been an utterly tempting sight and who could have blamed Blaine really for placing the tray down hastily and settling himself on his bare back on the floor, before shuffling sideways until he was lying directly underneath Kurt's rising and falling torso.
Kurt smirked and shifted his arms and legs to accompany Blaine snug underneath and with every time he lowered himself he was met with Blaine's grinning though very lovely and obliging lips and morning stubble. As he pushed himself backup with the strength of his arms Blaine would take the time to sweep his eyes over the expanse of Kurt's defined chest and abdomen and Kurt could do the same from his view up top. And maybe the breakfast had to wait a little longer while another morning exercise of a completely different gorgeous calibre was performed mutually. It was a win-win all round really.
Kurt passed the second last door on the left and suddenly wondered why he couldn't hear the tell tale sounds of his Fiancés lovely voice and piano playing, Blaine took almost every free opportunity to practise and work on something, to better himself, he was a try-er, a Kurt became aware of the lack of melodies he became more tuned in to the soft thuds and dull thwacks becoming louder and louder, accompanied with quite grunts and huffs of breath, maybe the martial arts class had taken the space and Blaine had been moved somewhere else. But by the time he could think to turn around he was already at the open door, he was already watching, eyes wide and mouth agape in delightful, wonderful surprise.
The piano had been moved to the far corner of the room next to the stretching bars and posts, and in its place was a large black boxing bag hanging from a silver stand, being punched and beaten this way and that so hard that the whole stand shook and wobbled with the force.
Blaine was wearing a black Nike lightweight jacket unzipped and falling from his shoulders as he pulled his arms back and swung for the punching-bag within an inch if it's life. A tight black tank top clung to his chest underneath the jacket and tucked into the waistline of a pair red workout shorts hanging deliciously low. His hair was breaking free from the thick layer of gel he'd applied that morning and clean sweat rolled from his forehead, down to his upper lip and clean-cut cheekbones where there was a slight dark shadow starting to appear from his morning shave.
Kurt took a couple more steps inside and dumped everything he was holding down onto a nearby bench, his eyes never leaving the sight in front of him, it was strangely, utterly captivating. Kurt had seen Blaine box before, all of the time back at Mckinley, but this was different, this was new, back then Blaine boxed to help build up a level of self-defence and maybe ward off some underlying frustration and anger issues. But now there was no real purpose to it, no reason, other than the obvious of getting fit, but Blaine hadn't told Kurt about that, why, why hadn't he discussed that with Kurt?
Kurt took another moment of unnoticed silence save for the beats and the pounds and the breathy groans to watch Blaine, he looked amazing, his bare shoulders and biceps straining where the fabric had dropped, fast on his sneakered feet and red-gloved hands thumping and thumping non-stop. The bag flew backwards and did a little turn before returning back to Blaine in the opposite direction with sheer force and speed, Blaine had taken a split second to swipe a glove over his sweaty forehead and in that time the bag swung sideways and almost knocked him upside the head. Blaine laughed, he took a step back to steady himself and set the bag back into position, and laughed, head back and free and easy whilst he mumbled something to himself, light and breathy and carefree and suddenly Kurt knew, he got it.
Blaine was doing this for himself, not for bullies, or to get fit or to ease any unwanted tension, not even for Kurt. Blaine hadn't discussed this because he was just doing it, because he liked to, because he wanted to, he enjoyed it, having nobody around to impress, if he was proving any point to anybody at all it was to himself, to show, to remember who and what he was. Kurt's eyes almost filled with unshed emotion, raw and completely admirable.
He adored this man, loved him dearly with all that he had, he always would. Blaine was worried that he wasn't as strong as Kurt was, but he was wrong, strong doesn't have to be a physical sense or form, Blaine has always had it deep within no matter which way it shows.
They are equals, they are best friends, they are lovers, always.
Kurt sniffed and Blaine's eyes lifted to his, shuffling back from the bag immediately and stepping forward, his eyes glazed from exertion, but his smile so wide and bright, he looked at him so eagerly, like Kurt was the sun in the break of the clouds.
"Hey you."
