Another domestic Klaine that same to my mind. Apparently, I've been writing only Blaine coming home to comfort Kurt, and I should probably switch it up. I'll wait for inspiration to kick in, until then, sorry slash not sorry.
Blaine was extremely grateful for the loft's fresh air contrasting with the heat of September in the Big Apple. Even if it was the end of the afternoon, the warmth of the air wouldn't give a break, and he felt like he was melting. So the AC was a plus.
Also, it was Monday, so he knew Kurt would be home. That's how it worked: on Mondays and Wednesdays, Kurt got to their apartment first because he didn't work the afternoon shift at the Diner; on Thursdays, they would both get home at around the same time – late –; and on Tuesdays and Fridays, Blaine would be there first and cook a delicious meal to treat his fiancé after the long day he'd had.
But today was Monday. And, indeed, Kurt was home, but he wasn't quite like Blaine had expected to find him. He was curled up in the couch watching Funny Girl, of all things, while eating ice-cream from a box of Häagen-Dazs, no less. And this is all some very suspicious behavior.
"Hey, I'm home," Blaine called carefully as he put his bag away.
Kurt made an acknowledge sound with his eyes fixed on the screen as he brought a spoonful of strawberry ice-cream to his mouth. If Blaine hadn't been right there, he would say Kurt was totally mourning over a break-up.
Slowly, he sat down next to him and looked at the TV. "Kurt, why are you watching Funny Girl again? Haven't we watched that show enough times? Like, more than Rent?"
When he didn't get a response, he kept talking.
"And why are you eating ice-cream? I thought you said no over-sugary things on week days."
Kurt stabbed at the light pink dessert in his lap a couple of times before looking at Blaine. "Remember when you asked if we should do something to the spare bedroom?" When Blaine nodded, he continued, but dropped his gaze to his spoon. "Well… maybe… maybe we don't have to do anything with it. I mean, we could have guests, and I wouldn't want them sleeping on the couch. I wouldn't want to be a bad host."
"Okay…" Blaine frowned. "We can keep the bed and everything, but the wardrobe and that dresser aren't really necessary. We could sell them and buy some new furniture."
"Yeah, but…" Kurt attacked the ice-cream a bit more. "Like, what if we end up needing them for something? There are all those candles inside the dresser that could be useful in case of a blackout or for… a romantic dinner or something. And I could use some extra wardrobe space."
"I guess?" Blaine still thought this was all very suspicious. "We could use the wardrobe and put the candles away in the kitchen or something. Then we could sell the dresser."
"Do we really have to?" Kurt turned to him with these big eyes that seemed a bit too bright to be normal. His face was hopeful and fragile, and Blaine couldn't help but frown again as he put an arm around his shoulders.
"Are you okay?"
He simply shook his head and went back to playing with his food, leaning back into him. Blaine let him and started gently stroking his arm with the one he had wrapped around him, easing him to talk when he was ready. However, the minutes went by and Kurt didn't show any signs that he was going to continue their conversation. He had in fact gone back to eating miserably.
"What's wrong?" Blaine whispered against his temple and softly kissed his hair. "Hm?"
Kurt took a shaky breath and turned a bit so he was kind of facing Blaine, although he wasn't looking at him, gaze still down. It took him a couple more moments to raise his eyes, which were now a bit bloodshot.
"I just really miss Rachel."
It was so quiet that Blaine almost didn't catch it. He did, though, and his first reaction was to pull his fiancé closer to kiss his hair again, letting him bury his face in his shoulder. Carefully, he took the ice-cream and spoon from Kurt and put them on the little table next to the couch before wrapping both of his arms around him and squeezing.
He didn't know what he should say. Of course, he missed her too. The three of them had adapted very well to living together, and she most certainly hadn't felt like a third wheel in there, always adding a female touch to everything. But he knew that Kurt missed her in an entirely different way, so he didn't say that.
"Do you wanna call her?" he asked instead.
"Calling her was what got me in this mess in the first place," Kurt said, backing away slightly so he could look at Blaine as he placed his hands in his chest and fiddled with his bowtie, undoing it. "I was just walking back from class when she ringed me to confirm that we knew the Pilot of her TV series was this Thursday, as if we could forget. And we just talked until I got home, and then she had to leave to do something." He took a deep breath. "I was still for about five seconds before going back down to buy the ice-cream because I remembered she wouldn't be coming home as well later on." He chuckled through his tears as he was finished with the bowtie, and then he undid the top bottom of the shirt. "And I accused her of being sappy."
"Hey, this is completely normal, okay?" Blaine said, lifting his head with a finger under his chin. "You saw her pretty much every day for five years, lived with her for the last two; it's okay to miss her. You guys were inseparable."
Kurt's lips turned up a bit, and Blaine took that opportunity to peck them lovingly.
"And, you know, we don't have to sell her dresser or anything. If you want, we can keep it, and we'll find a use for it. I'll think of something."
"Ugh, God, no," Kurt dropped his head back to Blaine's shoulder. "That singular piece of furniture doesn't go with anything I have planned for this place. We keep the wardrobe if, and only if, we paint it. But the dresser, definitely no."
Blaine laughed loudly, glad his Kurt was back.
