I posted this earlier today but I wasn't happy with the way it came out, so i edited a part of it. Sorry guys!
Hope you enjoy the new version :D
"Watch where you're g-" The words caught in his throat before he could finish him. It wasn't the woman with her uncontrollable, wildly screaming children. No, this was someone entirely different. A handsome, dapper looking man stood in front of him. "G-going."
"My bad." The stranger looked up behind his eyelashes at Kurt. He averted his eyes to the products next to him on the shelf. Kurt took it as a lack of interest in the apology. "Merely took my eyes off the aisle for a second."
"Well, be more observant," Kurt snapped at the man.
"Look I said I was sorry. I do-"
"Actually you said 'My bad,' not 'Sorry'" Kurt smirked at the frowning man. He lifted his chin higher and grabbed the bar of the shopping cart and prepared to walk away. He took these moments of this man's hesitation to observe him. His presumably curly hair was gelled and neatly combed, he had a nice button up shirt on and some slacks, his shoes shining with polish.
"Okay," he rolled his eyes, his next words dripped with sarcasm and disdain, "I'm sorry your majesty, would you ever forgive me?"
"I'll think about it." Kurt sneered and walked off, barely hearing the man scoff.
16 oz. for 11.99? Or 20 oz. for 14.99?
... Oh this is hopeless. I give up.
Kurt plucked the larger spray from the shelf and placed it in his cart. He turned back toward the end of the aisle and his eyes fell on a man, who just turned his head from this direction, wearing sweatpants. He winced and gave the guy a once over. He had a loose fitting red shirt, black sweats, high socks with sandals on, and a mop of curls on his head; he was scrutinizing the section of hair gel, positively asking for the best once with the strongest hold to magically make its way into his cart. Deciding to help this man with his poor fashion guided life; Kurt made his way over to him and grabbed the best brand, dropping it in the man's cart.
"Um, excuse me?"
"I thought I'd help out. You're welcome."
"Thanks, but no thanks," he grabbed the gel, putting it back on the shelf and grabbing a significantly cheaper one.
"That won't hold at all. At least take this one," Kurt said while grabbing a better but slightly more expensive brand.
"Okay. But if this one doesn't work, I'll never forgive you." He chuckled before turning to the helpful man. "Blaine. Blaine Anderson."
"Kurt Hummel." They shook hand and met each other's eyes. Kurt's eyes narrowed while Blaine looked amused.
"Oh, it's you."
"The sprays are both the same deal by the way." He smirked at the rising heat and the look on Kurt's face. "My apologies, your highness, but I need to get going, peasant business, you know." He turned and strolled of with his cart, leaving a very flustered Kurt behind. "I'm still holding it against you if my gel doesn't work."
"Hey Kurt!" Blaine chirped and smiled widely making his way over to the said man. He was oblivious to the groan from the taller man. "Guess what!"
"What, Blaine?" He forced a smile on his face and turned towards the man who was pointing to his head. His hair was gelled down quite nicely.
"It works!"
Kurt gave the hobbit a glare then looked to Blaine's grocery items. A cart full of TV dinners and junk food met his gaze.
"Blaine. What's that?
"Uh, food. Duh."
"Do you know how to cook?"
Blaine replied with an averted gaze and a sheepish scratching at his head.
"I'll take that as a no."
"... I can cook bacon."
"Oh Gaga. Here, take my cart."
"But-"
"No buts! I'm going to teach you how to cook."
"... Why?"
"Because his royal highness must help his people." He lifted his chin and hand gracefully. Blaine stared incredulously. "So in order to help my pe-... What?"
"Kurt, you don't just invite yourself into someone's home!"
"But I'm his majesty! I'm invited anywhere I want to be!"
"KURT! I could be a rapi- uh, a-a serial killer for all you know!"
Kurt raised one neatly trimmed eyebrow. "Are you?"
Blaine spluttered for a second. "N-No!"
"Well it's decided then!" Kurt hesitated. "But it's your place. I can't have you knowing where I live…" Just in case he is a serial killer… "Address? I'll be there at 6." Blaine continued to stare at Kurt. He was unbelievable! Blaine wrote down his address anyway. He could benefit from this and maybe, just maybe... Nah. He let the thought go.
Blaine dropped the groceries on his counter and started pulling out various spices that he didn't even know he had. He tried to organize them and gave up.
To hell with it.
He sat on the couch and grabbed his guitar, jamming out for a while. He sang his various renditions of his favorite Disney songs. After a while he stopped, fingers a bit numb, and clicked on his TV, not bothering to switch the channel as his doorbell rang. He got up and opened the door, seeing an impatient Kurt striking a diva pose; his hip jut out and a manicured hand on it.
"Hello." Kurt strut past Blaine straight into the kitchen area of his apartment.
"Please, do come in." Kurt smirked before turning back to the still unpacked groceries Blaine forgot about. He snickered and grabbed ingredients as Blaine furiously blushed.
20 minutes later, two pots were on the stove and Kurt was dropping various pinches and teaspoons of flavorings and spices.
"-and you add that for the zesty little bit in the aftertaste but if you add too much, you'll overload the flavor and it won't be quite as good. Got all of that?"
"Wha?" Blaine snapped back at attention after gazing at the pale man. He had such a grace a familiarity to the kitchen for being in it for less than an hour that Blaine was positively entranced by his movements. Kurt narrowed his eyes.
"You're hopeless."
"One can only learn so much when his cup is full." Blaine stood up from his stool and winked at Kurt, walking to his TV and shutting off the obnoxious show that was currently on.
"I can't believe you even watch that," Kurt drawled with an amused smile tugging at his lips.
"What?"
"That reality show. I could literally feel my brain cells dying and I wasn't even paying attention."
"Oh," Blaine chuckled, "I put it on two seconds before you rang. Didn't even get a chance to choose what show you'd judge me on."
"Oh please. You're not the first to use that excuse."
"I'm not!" He laughed. "I was playing my guitar!"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah." He glanced over at the musical beauty by his couch.
"Well?" Kurt rolled his eyes before continuing when Blaine shot him a questioning look. "Aren't you gunna offer to play me a song?"
"No," Blaine answered flatly, trying to hide a smile.
"Hmph, well I guess I'll leave all this food on your hands." He made a grab at his bag and coat, "Don't forget what I told you!" He made his way to Blaine's door.
"Wait!" Blaine already had the guitar in hand. "I'll play you one. Just don't leave me with uncooked food."
Kurt smirked and walked to the couch, eyes never leaving Blaine. Blaine dragged a stool over by the couch, sat on it, guitar in hand, and pulled out a pick. He started humming then strummed on the instrument. Kurt was in awe. The concentrated look on Blaine's face, his easy and gentle strokes on the guitar, and the wordless melody tumbling from the guitar was enchanting. Blaine's eyes met his, and the dapper man grinned.
"Want a napkin?"
"Huh?"
"You're practically drooling. Didn't know I was that good."
"You? Royal drool worthy? Ha. That food smells delicious." With that Kurt stood up and wandered back into the kitchen. Blaine shoved his hands in his pockets and followed leisurely. He saw Kurt furiously working and watched the way he moved about the kitchen.
"Do you, by any chance, know how to make Shepard's Pie?"
"…Yes," Kurt replied, back turned to Blaine. He caught the hesitation and noticed how stiff Kurt became.
Kurt left the burners on the stove top lit, keeping the food warm, while he rummaged through Blaine's kitchen. After a couple of moments he dropped a bunch of ingredients on the countertop. Soon he had two plates in hand and set them down on Blaine's table. It was a very complicated Italian pasta dish, Blaine gathered. On Kurt's insistence, Blaine dug out a wine bottle from somewhere and cooled it for dinner.
"Well make the Shepard's pie together after we eat. Maybe if I put you to work you'll actually pay attention."
"Hey! I was paying attention!" Blaine stabbed a piece of the ravioli and raised it to his mouth, a small grin there.
"What are we eating?" Kurt asked.
Blaine froze. "Uh, … food? Yes, we are eating food!" His grin grew wider.
"Ugh, Blaine, no. It's actually called-," but Kurt's correction was interrupt by a delectable sound.
"Mmm! Kurt, this is amazing!" Moans tumbled out of Blaine's mouth and Kurt's jaw dropped. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat.
"Well, I did cook it." He recovered, taking bites from his own plate.
"Touché, your highness." Blaine winked at Kurt. Heat rose in his cheeks but went unnoticed by Blaine; he was shoveling the pasta down his throat. Kurt sipped at the wine and continued eating himself, albeit much slower than Blaine.
"Alright, so that Shepard's Pie! Let's get started!"
"Blaine, we're already halfway done."
"We are?"
"Yeah, it's not that hard to make." Kurt's heart clenched with pain. He had repeated the words his mother told him when she was teaching him how to make it. "You ju-," he clear his throat after his voice had cracked. "You just have to… um, you know what? I'll finish this up. Um, go set up something to watch while we eat this." Kurt turned his back on Blaine and lowered his head, shutting his eyes tightly and willing tears not to fall.
"Kurt? Are you okay?" You don't have to if you done want to."
"It's fine, Blaine!" He shouted, turning his head and resting his red, tear filled eyes on Blaine. Blaine widened eyes softened and he walked up to him. He placed both his hand comfortingly on Kurt's shoulders before speaking.
"Don't worry about it." He rubbed his hands over Kurt's shoulders.
Kurt sniffed. "It's fine, really… I just have to cool down." He smiled faintly at Blaine. "Just go set up something."
"Alright, holler if you need me." And with that Blaine walked back to his TV set and popped the first DVD he could find into the player. He sat back and leaned into the comfortable warm couch. Minutes later Kurt walked in and sat next to Blaine.
"My mother taught me how to cook. She, ah, she died when I was eight. I've always cooked since then. Shepard's Pie was the first thing she taught me to make." Kurt sniffed and breathed out a heavy but shaking breath.
"Oh Kurt. You didn't have to continue making it. I could've finished it for you." Blaine smacked his hand to his mouth and his eyes widened slightly. "W-w-with instructions, o-of course." He added sheepishly.
"So you're telling me you already know how to cook?" Kurt fumed. "What the hell was this then? A game? Gaga, I'm so sick of people like you." He jabbed a finger to Blaine's chest.
"No! I-I mean, yes. Wait, no?" Blaine looked the floor and tried to gather his thoughts. "W-wait! Okay," He closed his eyes, "I can only make Shepard's Pie. I... I used to make it with my dad… Well when he wasn't trying to change me. I just wanted a reminder of when life wasn't hard. After we had a … disagreement, he changed… he stopped being fatherly and never made me the treat again. " He sighed.
Kurt was left speechless. Minutes of tense silence passed before Kurt let out a whisper. "Why did he shun you?" This caused Blaine to let a shaky breathe of his own go.
"It's because I'm gay."
A very pregnant silence followed.
"Me too."
"Well, Papa over here hit me with his shopping car-"
"I did not! Sweetie, we bumped into each other at the store and this Daddy" Blaine jabbed a finger in Kurt's direction, "over here was very rude to me."
"Don't blame me! You weren't paying any attention!"
Claire giggled as her two fathers bickered over how they first met. She dug her fork into her delicious pasta dish that her Papa cooked and blew on the food before taking a huge bite.
"Mmm! Papa, this is amazing!"
Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading :)