A/N There is a severe lack of Kadam on this site, especially in multi-chapter stories. I am here to remedy that! So enjoy this new fic, which is also on Ao3!
The Pursued and the Tired
Chapter 1
Kurt's arms were straining against the tight sleeves of his sweatshirt, sweat dripping down from his brow onto his cheek. Huffing, he placed down the heavy box on top of the others and surveyed his work with an immature hatred. He could just feel his hair drooping away from their perfectly executed bounds, and that, accompanied with the sure red flare on his cheeks, infuriated him in the most irrational way.
He was standing amongst taped boxes of all sizes, stacked like a game of Jenga, and haphazard pieces of furniture. The room had a low ceiling, and the paint was chipping on the walls in the main foyer – if you could even call it a foyer, it was really just their living room with a top hat – and Kurt was sure someone had died in the bedroom, as he liked to whisper, scandalized, with wide eyes.
It's a small apartment, holding only a single bedroom, a single bathroom, and a living room with a practically miniscule, built-in kitchen in the corner. There was hardly enough space for all of Kurt's clothes, but he was promised a hole would be cut into their neighbor's apartment, if it came to that, to accommodate Kurt's wardrobe.
Kurt Hummel was nineteen, in his mere sophomore year of New York Academy of Dramatic Arts, and was already renting his second apartment in New York City, having only arrived to this luxurious city a year and some ago. In his detailed dreams of future interviews on late night talk shows, Kurt would be asked if he ever knew he would end up in this position. "No," he would reply, smiling, "but who's complaining?"
He sighed and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, grimacing at the sheen of moisture. "Damn," he muttered to himself, "this body was not made for heavy lifting."
Suddenly, soft, padded shoes came running into the room, and a box fell uncouthly to the floor, and before Kurt had the sense to realize that he probably should have closed the door after coming in, he was being swept up into a pair arms, his feet off the ground.
Later, Kurt would regret the squeal of surprise that left his mouth. He craned his neck at an almost painful degree to see what was happening in his first haze of confusion, but soon he felt the cold metal of a necklace pendant against his neck. He sighed happily, a grin on his face.
He smacked the arms that were holding him lightly, giggles pouring out of his parted lips. "Adam!" he chastised mockingly, "Let me down!"
"Come on, Kurt," Adam whined, beginning to twirl them around amidst the boxes, "All work and no play?"
"There will be play if you would just let me down! We just need to finish – "
"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, love. I just brought up the very last box," Adam said, setting Kurt right on his feet. Kurt's grin lessened in suspicion as he readjusted himself and looked up into Adam's eyes.
"Is that so?" he asked, narrowing his eyes playfully. Adam nodded and took a step back, throwing his arms open wide and presenting the room to Kurt. Kurt placed his chin in his hand, and regarded the multitude of boxes around him with amusement. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely positive," Adam said, stepping forward once again and pulling Kurt into a hug, feeling him relax in his arms. "Welcome home, Kurt!"
"To you, too, Adam," Kurt mumbled, nuzzling into the warm embrace. He sighed. "You know what we should do now?"
"I can think of a few things…" Adam replied softly, his hands stroking slowly up and down Kurt's back.
"Oh, good, so we're on the same page." Kurt pulled away from the hug and looked up at Adam with mischief. Adam grinned and leaned in, lips only beginning to purse when he was met with a rush of air against his face.
"Let's start unpacking!" Kurt exclaimed from behind a tower of boxes, completely hidden from view. Adam groaned lightly, but a smile made its way onto his lips, nonetheless.
Adam Crawford was twenty-three years old and had only just graduated from NYADA, the same school Kurt was currently attending. He had been a musical theatre major, but had a steady job now, working the sound booth for a stable Broadway show, counting his days until the inevitable moment he would be discovered by one of the countless producers and directors running around the set.
He and Kurt, his boyfriend of a year, had just rented out this small apartment together. Rachel had proven to be a roommate spawned from Satan himself, so Kurt was relieved to be out of that fiasco, and in any case, Rachel was fine without him.
The rent was smaller on this apartment than it was on Kurt's previous abode, and with two people weighing in, the load would be much easier. Adam's old apartment had been trash, to say in the least, and though this home needed a bit of tender, love, and care, it was already two steps better; plus, he'd be living here with Kurt, so, Adam thought with a smile, it was more along the lines of ten steps better.
Adam snapped out of his reverie at the sound of boxes dragging across the hardwood floors. He looked over to see Kurt pulling a large box across the room, his chest puffing with a slight vigor. He looked to be building some sort of cave, or an igloo, from the boxes. Adam strode over. "What're you doing, love?"
"Well," Kurt said, slacking over one of the boxes, "I decided I didn't want to unpack today."
Adam paused, and then he said, teasingly, "That's a nice story, but I hope there's more to it."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yes, but then it occurred to me that our bed hasn't arrived yet, and it won't for another two days. I'm still pretty angry over that, you know, this is New York City – the city that never sleeps – but they can't manage to move our bed – the place where we sleep, ironically – in less than two days?" Adam grinned and kneeled down, crawling over to where Kurt was sprawled across a box.
"Anyways, I unpacked a few pillows and a couple blankets for our bed the next few days. I figured it would be more fun to sleep in a cave, so here we are. I'm building a cave."
"Or a castle."
Kurt grinned and nodded. "Castle is better."
Adam leaned his body over the box and caught Kurt's lips in a kiss. "You're my prince," he murmured through the kiss. Kurt blushed.
Hours later found the two giggling together underneath a canopy of boxes, no particular joke having been made, yet it was still just as sidesplitting. The blankets were spread out, on top of each other, to provide some sort of matting, and the pillows were strewn about with no regard to the belongings within the paper walls surrounding them.
Adam's hair, blonde, wavy, and loose, was falling into his eyes, and Kurt gently swiped it away with a smile. "You need a haircut, mister," he whispered playfully. Adam shook his head briskly, the hair previously moved now drifting, once again, into his eyes.
"I think you need to get your vision checked, my dear," he responded, pursing his lips and grinning when Kurt pecked them quickly, "as my hair is at a perfect length. There are so many hairstyles I can pull off with this hair. I can pull it up, and then it looks fantastic with a beanie, or, I suppose, I could leave it be and let you push it aside as you kiss me."
"So forward, aren't you?" Kurt asked softly. Adam shrugged and pulled the blanket up over their pajama-clad bodies. He wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist and snuggled closer to him.
"I think after all this time, I can be forward, can't I?" Adam responded, biting at Kurt's nose teasingly. Kurt stifled the squeak that bubbled from his lips in the fabric of his sleeve. Adam laughed and continued to place small nips to Kurt's nose, his ears, his lips. Kurt was chuckling and trying to squirm away from Adam's persistent mouth, but to no avail.
"Adam, Adam! I give, I give!" Kurt gasped with a wide grin. Adam ceased, and Kurt placed his hands on his shoulders. The laughter between the two died slowly in a pure decrescendo, and then the only sound that remained was their steady breathing and the lethargic tick of Adam's watch.
"You know," Kurt started, "I'm so happy about this – about us living together, I mean. I couldn't be more overjoyed. Is that too dramatic?"
"I love that about you, Kurt," Adam whispered, his watch the metronome to the melody in his voice, "and the same stands for me, here. I just adore the idea of waking up in the morning with you in my arms, to letting you bump me out of the way of the mirror, and to making us meals – just for the two of us."
"I love you so much," Kurt sighed contentedly, closing his eyes. Adam tilted his head down into the alcove of Kurt's neck, and placed a lingering kiss onto his collarbone.
"I love you, too," Adam murmured, letting his own eyes slide close, "my prince."
Adam was on the very drifts and waves of sleep when a faint voice from next to him roused him. Kurt was mumbling into Adam's hair. "Hmm? Kurt?" Adam whispered.
"Now that I think about it," Kurt yawned sleepily, his eyes remaining closed, "you don't need to cut your hair. I like the idea of pushing it aside when I kiss you."
Adam chuckled and placed his lips on Kurt's neck.
