I really miss Bruce, you guys.
Blaine was lazing on the couch, half-heartedly watching Grease 2 and wishing Santana wasn't busy showering so she could help him mock it properly, when he heard Kurt's voice come from off in the kitchen. "Blaine? Can you come here a sec?"
"Yep!" Blaine said, already scurrying over to Kurt's place in front of the stove. "What do you need, baby?" He looped his arms around Kurt's waist from behind and kissed his neck quickly, just because he could.
"I know I'm toiling away over a hot stove, but I'm actually freezing thanks to this window draft," Kurt said, leaning back into Blaine's arms as he stirred pasta for dinner. "And I can't leave this pot right now because I'm at the trickiest part in this recipe. So would you be willing to get one of my sweaters out from the bin under our bed?" Kurt turned slightly and batted his eyelashes at Blaine, as if he needed more convincing for such an arduous task.
"Of course, Kurt," Blaine said, giving him another kiss before pulling away. "Would you any sweater in particular?"
"Just try to make it match, if you could," Kurt replied, more focus on his rapidly-boiling pot than on Blaine.
"One bright-orange sweater, coming right up!" Blaine teased, taking in Kurt's stylish forest green and gray outfit. Kurt flicked flour at him as he retreated to their bedroom, but it was so worth it.
Blaine crouched carefully as he approached his and Kurt's bed, not wanting to split the stiff fabric of his new pants, and dragged a long storage bin out from underneath. "Nope, nope, nope," he muttered aimlessly as he rifled through the bin, not finding anything that looked right to his moderately-discerning eye. "Where's that gray one he just bought? That would look nice."
Suddenly, a black, buckled case caught his eye. "This one's new," Blaine said to himself, pulling it over to him. "Maybe it's in- augh!" he shrieked once he opened it. "Ohmygod!"
Footsteps stampeding into the room startled his attention away from the mysterious case. "Blaine, honey, what's wrong?" Kurt demanded frantically, brandishing a still-wet wooden spoon. Santana was close behind him, towels wrapped haphazardly around her hair and body.
"There's a torso in here!" Blaine screeched, gesturing at the disembodied lump he'd come across. Kurt turned so red Blaine thought he might burst a blood vessel while Santana doubled over and cackled with laughter behind him.
"Oh, screw you, Santana," Kurt mumbled, swatting at her shaking figure with his spoon. "You have one too, you know."
"Yeah, Rachael Gay, but my girlfriend didn't have a screaming heart attack when she found out about it," Santana said, finally straightening up. "Professor Flit-dick here looked like he was envisioning himself in a world without hair gel."
"Hey!" Blaine started, offended, but Kurt was already giving Santana a death stare.
"I'll tell Dani there's a reason you got that lifetime supply of Yeast-I-Stat if you don't shut up, Santana," Kurt said. Blaine could see him almost vibrating with anger.
"Ooh, how scary," Santana replied dryly, obviously not intimidated, but she left them in privacy anyway.
Kurt's chest instantly deflated once she was gone, though the remnants of his blush remained on his cheeks. "So, uh, I see you found Bruce," he said lamely, gesturing his free hand at the case. He shifted his feet like he wanted to run from the room, so Blaine hoisted himself on the bed and patted the space next to him, hoping to calm his fiance down.
"C'mere," Blaine said, and held out his arms. When Kurt finally came over and sat down next to him after leaving the spoon on his nightstand, Blaine gave him a snuggle. "Just to clarify, Bruce isn't real, right?" He was pleased to see Kurt crack a small smile at his terrible opening.
"No, Blaine, I don't keep random dismembered corpses under our bed," Kurt said, relaxing a little bit into Blaine's hold. "He's a pillow. I got him last winter."
"They mass-produce these?" Blaine asked with genuine surprise. "I would have thought you made him."
"I'm not quite that creepy, B," Kurt joked, huffing out a laugh. "I did modify one for Santana so she could have a girl one, though."
"So both you and Santana have one of these? Did you lose a bet or something?" Blaine said, hoping to see Kurt smile again. When Kurt frowned instead, he tightened his hug and a matching frown appeared on his own face. "Baby?" he prompted after a moment of silence.
"I saw them on TV," Kurt began quietly. "They asked if I was lonely and needed companionship, and it was late at night and I couldn't sleep, and I just – really missed you, Blaine." He choked up a little mid-sentence and Blaine felt his heart crack in his chest. "Even though I was quasi-dating Adam, I always thought of you when I wanted someone around."
"Sweetheart," Blaine said, unsure of what else to say. He noticed that Kurt had let a couple of tears slip, and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug that shifted Kurt into his lap. "I'm so sorry, Kurt."
"You know I've forgiven you, Blaine, it's alright," Kurt sniffled. He twisted his left hand and made his ring sparkle, a silent reminder of his obvious forgiveness. "I just don't like remembering how low I felt some days."
"I understand," Blaine said, remembering his own dark times after their break-up. "If I'd seen that infomercial, I probably would've ordered a Bruce, too."
They sat in silence for a few minutes and just enjoyed the feeling of being together again. Blaine loosened his grip somewhat once he realized that Kurt probably couldn't breathe well, but Kurt made no moves to get off his lap, apparently content.
Finally, Kurt broke the silence. "And no, it wasn't Santana and I that had boyfriend pillows," he said, giving Blaine an impish grin. "Rachel had one, too."
"Why am I not surprised?" Blaine asked rhetorically, unable to stop himself from mirroring Kurt's smile. "Which leading man did she name it after? I might have to get offended if it wasn't Tony."
"I named it, actually," Kurt said. "I called him Colin, after the non-threatening boy in-"
"-The Secret Garden," Blaine chimed in as he caught on. "Great choice. Say, why'd you pick Bruce for yours?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow in curiosity.
"We'd just watched The Avengers, and, well..." Kurt trailed off. "I do like muscles on a man." He gave Blaine a wink, but Blaine was almost too stunned to notice.
"Baby, the Hulk isn't a man," he said, incredulous. He fought off the urge to shake his head and clear it. "He's a huge green monster that destroys his clothing every time he shifts. How would your head not explode when he did that?"
"Depending on which articles he destroyed, I might not notice," Kurt said, leaning up for a kiss. "Plus, Mark Ruffalo's not exactly unattractive."
"I'll give you that," Blaine said, nodding in agreement. "I'm more of an Iron Man guy myself, though."
"Does that make me Pepper Potts?" Kurt laughed as he got off Blaine's lap. The smell of burning food was beginning to permeate the apartment, thanks to Blaine's badly-timed shriek.
"You know, I've always thought he and Captain America had thing going, honestly," Blaine said. He followed Kurt out to the kitchen, ready to explain his beliefs as Kurt tried to either save dinner or just order a pizza. (He hoped it would be the latter, because, well, he deserved pizza after a scare like that.)