Ficlet of the future where Kurt and Blaine live together in New York and have a tiny, 5-month-old baby boy named Theo!
Kurt startles when the front door to the apartment unexpectedly cracks wide open, a flurry of frost-freckled evening air spilling in, and his eyebrows lift in curiosity when Blaine chases the icy breeze over the threshold, shoes tapping against the cherry wood floor. Snowflakes speckle the sooty ink of his eyelashes, lips berry-red from the nip of the temperature, and he pauses, shoulders curving against a shiver, before his eyes skate to the living room.
It's warm and dim, unlit apart from the creamy twinkle of fairy lights, looped around the Christmas tree and nestling beside glossy baubles and ornaments that throw shapes across the room, and the crackling glow of flames in the hearth. An aged classic accompanies the pops of the fire, filling the strange, freshly-unfamiliar quiet of the apartment, spilling softly from a beaten stereo in the corner.
"Kurt," he breathes. It has to be the sixth or seventh time since the beginning of Winter that he's returned home from a draining, rampant day at work to a similar scene, so it shouldn't be as stunning as it is, but Blaine still catches himself halting in the doorway. Tugging a beanie from his head, scarf from his neck and gloves from his hands, yet distracted, eyes bright and marvelling at his bundled-up husband on the couch. The lines of Kurt's face are sharper in the cloak of shadows, more beautiful in the dusky light of the fireplace. Starbursts of colour from the Christmas lights paint streaks into the chocolate gloss of his hair, and he's entirely long, slender legs and fleecy hoodies, too many blankets knotted around his hips, and their son, their little baby, dozing, cradled warmly to his sternum, a puddle of dark ringlets and rosy cheeks-
And Blaine's breath hitches, heart giving a staccato-flutter of wonder.
Kurt crooks a finger, beckoning him inside the private cocoon he's knitted for their tiny family, but Blaine's already there, shoes kicked off by the door, padding up onto the couch to nest into the slot of nonexistent space between Kurt's side and the cushions. Delicious warmth embraces Blaine as he wriggles into place, a shuddery sigh on his lips when he feels how soft Kurt's clothes are against the chill in his bones.
"You're home early," Kurt says. Blaine cups the shape of his jawbone, letting his fingers slip to the hollow behind Kurt's ear, and nods. "I have no more classes, so I left," he explains.
"Bad day?" The tilt to Kurt's head is concerned, eyebrows slanting slightly.
"Long day. Missed you," he whispers, bumping the tips of their noses together. Kurt giggles, dipping to bite playfully at Blaine's chin. "Missed you, too," he says, smiling, and when the warmth of Blaine's eyes drift down, Kurt's lips part so that he can kiss him, on the mouth, damp and soft and intimate. Warm honey dripping from a ladle, filling their chests until it draws a whispery sigh from Kurt, Blaine's socked toes curling delightedly beneath one of the blankets.
"You really did, huh?" he teases breathlessly. Kurt just smiles, blue eyes whimsical and round, cheeks flushed. Blaine is helpless to do anything but kiss him one last time, a mmmwah of lips, before his attention shifts to the baby in the centre of Kurt's chest, breathing soft puffs of air through his tiny nose.
"And hello to you, baby," he hums, stroking a soft fingertip along the swell of Theodore's rosy cheek. He smoothes a kiss to the indent of his temple, breathing fragrant baby shampoo, vanilla fabric softener, raspberry yoghurt and something that is distinctly little Theo. Patented. A scent that has filled the nursery upstairs for the past five months; perfumed Kurt and Blaine's own skin more than their own aftershaves. He strokes an errant curl from Theo's forehead, tucking it behind his small, hot ear. "I missed you too, button," he croons.
"Button refused to sleep all day- until now," Kurt murmurs, running his fingertips along the arch of Theodore's spine, slipping beneath the hem of his tiny t-shirt. Theo gives a huff of contentment, popping his red lips and Blaine kisses his forehead, softly, before blinking up at Kurt. Concern and a shred of gentle mirth in the honey-gold of his irises, he asks, "How was your day? I called at lunch but you never answered."
"Long," Kurt says, rolling his eyes fondly. "I should probably turn off the music and put Theo in his crib, but I'm scared to move."
Blaine props himself up on an elbow, stroking the pad of his thumb beneath the fan of Kurt's eyelashes, smiling as they flutter and close.
"I'll take him tonight. Bed's all yours and he's all mine," he promises.
"Does it make me old if I say that that's the best thing I've heard all day?"
"Yes," Blaine scoffs, cocking an amused eyebrow, and Kurt grins against Blaine's palm, inhaling the crisp tinge of outside on his skin. "Then I'm so okay with that," he whispers, chuckling, and before they know it, they're kissing again. Soundless and sweet. Blaine's hands cradle Kurt's cheeks carefully as his mouth opens, tugging Kurt's cherry lower lip between his own, and Kurt keeps his own fingers on Theodore, following the gentle rise and fall of the baby's lungs.
"Mm, you taste like sugar," Blaine chirps, pulling away only to flash a radiant smile, eyes crinkling further when a bubble of unbridled laughter brightens the sapphire of Kurt's eyes. "Coffee. Lots of it. I needed something to help me stand today," Kurt admits, and Blaine caresses his cheek in understanding, making a soft sound of sympathy that dwindles when Theodore begins to snuffle, nosing against the fabric beneath his cheek.
"Uh-oh," Kurt mouths. Blaine stiffens, palm still pressed to Kurt's face.
Theodore, eliciting no response from his parents by wriggling alone, fills his chest with air and liberates a sharp squeal of protest. Tiny clenched fists knead roughly at his eyes, writhing with an aggravated whine, elbows and knees scraping Kurt's abdomen.
Kurt sags tiredly, a sigh of exasperation, and lets his head drop back against the armrest.
"Shh, I've got him," Blaine soothes.
Theodore squirms when Blaine's hands circle his waist, soft but nimble, and kicks an excited leg at the attention. A wild sock lands on Blaine's side.
"What's the matter, little man, hm?" he wonders, tucking the infant into the crook of his elbow. Kurt scoots to the edge of the couch, letting Blaine rest the purring baby between them, and lulls a flailing fist against the dough of his palm. "Oh, you're just not going to sleep today, are you?" he says, bringing Theodore's hand to his lips to kiss the sticky knuckles affectionately.
"Ta!" Theo chirrups, worming happily on the flat of his back. "Ta!" he squeaks, wrapping his hand around Kurt's fingers.
"Are you singing, button?" Blaine chuckles.
Theodore's lips lift with a lopsided grin, wiggling at the familiar timbre of Blaine's voice. "Ta tata," he babbles eagerly, lips wet and slippery against each other. Blaine dusts a kiss to both of his chubby cheeks, grinning as Theo fists a cluster of his curls, tugging merrily on the glossy strands. "Ta," he twitters.
"Broadway's future star," Kurt says, stroking Theo's hand.
"Our little firecracker," agrees Blaine emphatically.
"He has the lung capacity at least- he screams enough for us to know that."
"He'll be right up there with his Papa," Blaine whispers, petting his fingertips along Theodore's chest. Kurt hums in agreement, aching body melting into the embrace of the cushions beneath him, and just looks, tender and indescribably appreciative as he secretly maps the familiar hills and dips of Blaine, chin tucked atop the steeple he's made of his fingers.
Loose and glossy, at some point throughout the day Blaine's hair has twisted free of the gooey restraint he smears on it every morning, curls of pure satin tumbling to rest at his temples and forehead. The shadows cast by the enviable length of his eyelashes, paired with the gentle flicker of a candle flame, coax golden tones of coffee from the skin of his cheeks, dappled lightly along his cheekbones with a rosy hue. The smile on his face is nothing but adoring, hazel eyes warm and animated as his singsongs adorably at their baby, nuzzling Theo's cheek just to hear the snag of belly-deep giggles in his throat.
"What?" he wonders, softly, when he catches Kurt's doe-eyed, molten stare.
"Just.." Kurt breathes, pressing his dopey smile to Theo's hand, "I love you."
Blaine shivers happily at the words, eyes glittering with a swell of emotion as he leans over Theo to draw Kurt into a slow and sweet kiss. Whispers a private, panted "I love you, too" against the soft seam of his lips, melting when Kurt cups Blaine's cheeks gently. Theo incorporates himself into the expression of affection by squirming between their thrumming hearts, nosing between their ribcages.
"Ta tata," he warbles, snuggling close to bury a tiger yawn in the toasty crook of Blaine's neck.
"Aw," Blaine coos, breathing a smile into their kiss. Kurt parts with a soft and wet sound, pressing their foreheads together, and smoothes a hand soothingly along the curve of Theo's belly.
"Maybe he'll sleep for you?" he hopes, as Blaine links their fingers together.
"He's probably hungry," he says, dropping a butterfly-soft kiss to Kurt's forehead.
"Theo is always hungry," Kurt clarifies with a chuckle. Blaine nods, cracking a grin, and scoops the baby into his arms as he straightens. "Bottle time then," he decides, climbing over Kurt's blanket-swaddled legs.
"Baby bag's on the countertop," Kurt says, rolling into the warmed, vacant space of the couch, and Theo whines, nuzzling the hollow of Blaine's collarbone impatiently.
"Got it. Go to sleep, Kurt," Blaine chuckles. He strokes Theo's curls softly, shushing the baby's muffled keens.
"His dummy's in the crib," Kurt drawls, yawning already at the prospect of a nap. "And he needs his teddy when-"
"I know. I know," Blaine interrupts, smirking. He bends to press a final, goodbye kiss between Kurt's eyebrows, dusting a string down the bridge of his nose until he catches his lips. Kurt's eyelashes settle against his cheekbones, fair and long, fissions of tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Get some rest, baby," Blaine whispers.
Theo knocks the crown of his head against the underside of Blaine's jaw, tugging on the material of his shirt.
"Hungry?" wonders Blaine, petting the baby's back in soft circles. Theo babbles, slipping two fingers between his lips to suckle thirstily upon.
Blaine falls prey to a dazzled grin, wrapping a frazzled curl of Theo's hair around his fingertip.
"Let's get you something nice to drink then, hm?"
This was way too much fun to write, ahh! :D Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading :) x
