I can't stop myself from making Klaine sing the cheesiest songs, guys. I think it has something to do with my own taste in music...


The sound of water running is the first thing Blaine notices when he enters the loft one day after class.

"Crap, did we leave a tap running again?" he asks himself worriedly. He and Kurt had gotten a little, well, distracted one morning when Kurt had thought it was a good idea to walk into the bathroom wearing nothing but his softest, smallest kelly green briefs while Blaine was trying to wash his face, and Santana had almost shivved them with a butter knife for the accidental flood that she'd come home to later that day.

Blaine quickly shakes himself out of that memory and sets his bag down on a kitchen chair before heading down the hall to the bathroom. As he gets closer, he can hear a voice singing above the water, just barely louder than the pounding of the drops hitting and echoing, giving him the hint that someone's actually using the water this time, thankfully.

"Oooh, good song!" he chirps once he recognizes the tune. "Wait..."

"God, how is One Direction even popular?" Kurt's voice replays in Blaine's head as he remembers a conversation they'd had a few weeks ago. "They just sing cheesy pop music for preteens, it's not even that good."

"It's happy, Kurt!" Blaine had defended. He wasn't particularly into the band, but their music was catchy enough. "Also, weren't you a JoBros fan once? I swear I saw a poster of Nick in the back of your closet a while ago."

"Shhh, Blaine," Kurt had said, jokingly holding his finger to his lips. "That was when I was young and misguided. And I've been rethinking my stance on pop songs since I moved to New York, the hipster capital of the world. Just you wait, you'll be ashamed of your theme park days in no time."

"You hypocrite," Blaine giggles to himself as he stands outside the shower stall and Kurt's voice strengthens, apparently really into his performance.

"Said her name was Georgia Rose! And her daddy was a dentist!" Kurt sings. His shadow flashes against the shower curtain, and Blaine can see the shape of it striking poses with the bar of soap in the breaks between lines. "Said I had a dirty mouth! But she kissed me like she meant it!"

"Whoa, baby, you did what?" Blaine says, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard over the rushing water and Kurt's own voice. He hears a yelp from inside the shower and sees Kurt's shadow flail for the faucet. "Do I need to get you to sign one of those non-cheating contracts? They have them on Oprah's website, you know," he continues to tease when Kurt's bright-pink face appears from behind the curtain.

"Blaine! Where did you come from?" Kurt splutters and reaches for his towel, steam pouring out gently around him. He wraps the towel around his waist while most of his body is still out of Blaine's view. Darn it, Blaine curses mentally.

"I get home at this time every day, Kurt," Blaine says. "It's almost five o'clock right now."

"Shit, is it really?" Kurt says, surprised. "I've been in here longer than I thought."

"And enjoying yourself, apparently," Blaine smirks. "What happened to being over pop music, huh?"

"Hush, you. Don't mock my shame," Kurt says before overdramatically hiding his head in his hands.

"Baby, I shot a topless calendar as a show choir fundraiser. In a Santa suit, no less. I don't really think I have the right to mock you," Blaine says. He walks over to Kurt and kisses his damp hair before gripping his shoulders. "Please stop hiding?"

"I still don't know how that got approved," Kurt throws out offhandedly before lifting his head. "Anyways, I tried not liking One Direction, I really did, but then their songs just kept coming up on my Pandora stations and they got stuck in my head and then last week I found myself YouTubing all of their music videos when no one else was home. I think I have a problem."

"I'd say you do," Blaine says. Kurt lets out an offended "Hey!" before Blaine can continue. "Your problem is you haven't told me which one you think is the cutest."

"You're such a dork, B," Kurt says, playfully shoving Blaine away from him.

"That doesn't answer my question, Kurt."

"...Zayn," Kurt says after a moment.

"Louis," Blaine responds. "Now, can we go make dinner, or were you not done showering?"

"I still need to wash my hair," Kurt tells him, turning to hop back in the shower. "Order Chinese while I finish?"

"Sounds perfect," Blaine says. He smacks Kurt's ass teasingly on his way out of the bathroom, giggling at Kurt's choked squawk the whole way down the hall.


Later that week, Kurt's returning home from his breakfast shift at the diner, ready to collapse into bed for a quick power nap before tackling his homework.

"Mmm, maybe I can convince Blaine to cuddle with me," he says to himself, smiling at the prospect. They were on conflicting schedules last night – Blaine with a closing shift, and then Kurt on the early shift he just finished – and they weren't in bed together for very long last night. He's closing the loft door behind him when he notices the loud voice emanating from the bathroom. Kurt walks down the hallway to the source of the noise, laughing the whole way.

"Forget about game, I'mma spit the truth – I won't stop til I get 'em in their birthday suuuuits!" Blaine's voice is rapping. When Kurt gets in view of the shower – Blaine didn't shut the outer curtain behind him, and isn't that a terrible idea in case Santana and Dani come home early and decide to hide his clothes – he can see Blaine popping his butt in time to the rhythm through the shower curtain, one hand holding the bar of soap to his mouth as an impromptu mic.

"And you made fun of my shower song choice, B?" Kurt yells through his giggles. The water cuts off hurriedly, and Blaine pokes his head through the curtain sheepishly.

"I don't suppose there's any chance we can just never mention this again," he says.

"Just be glad it was me and not Santana, honey, or else you'd be the next viral sensation," Kurt says, still holding back some laughter.

"Oh God, don't even go there," Blaine says. His eyes widen, and Kurt can almost see the horror in them. "The twerk video was bad enough."

"Is there something you're not telling me, Blaine?" Kurt asks, full of faux-concern. "Do you want to drop out of NYADA to break into your rap career?"

"You're not funny, Kurt Hummel," Blaine says as he reaches for his towel. He steps out of the shower before he gets it wrapped around his waist, and Kurt can't say he doesn't appreciate the view.

"Au contraire, fiance of mine. I am hilarious," Kurt says. He swoops down to kiss Blaine, though he avoids standing too close to his soaked body so he doesn't get his vintage dip-dyed shirt wet.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Blaine grumbles once his lips are free, though he still chases Kurt's lips as they break their kiss. "I think I'd really feel better if you kept kissing me, though. Preferably on our bed. Wearing less clothing."

"I'll see what I can do," Kurt teases, walking towards the door. He unties the scarf he has looped around his neck and drops it to the floor ahead of him. "Oops!" He bends over to get it, shamelessly lingering as he feels Blaine's eyes settle on his ass.

"Oh my God," comes a groan from behind him before warm, damp hands settle on his arms and start pulling him toward their room. "Yep, definitely feeling less shame now."

Kurt laughs all the way into bed.