Guess who's officially a college graduate?!

It had taken a few years, but Blaine was finally capable of admitting that he was not the most perceptive of people, especially when it came to romantic feelings. His complete misreading of the Jeremiah situation was one of the most egregious examples, but the Rachel, Kurt, and Tina incidents also stood out vividly in his mind.

He did catch on eventually, though, and once he was aware of certain turn-ons or kinks of Kurt's, they were totally fair game for exploitation, especially since Kurt acted the same way with him - he knew Kurt's claim that tight jeans and sheer button-downs were in Vogue that month was bullshit, since they both read the magazine, but God if his libido hadn't been into it all the same. He was still recovering from that marathon sex session, honestly.

Fair's fair, Blaine thought as he walked as quietly as he could into their bedroom. He didn't want to wake Kurt before he was in position.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" he sing-songed once he was sitting on the edge of Kurt's side of the bed. "I brought you something!"

"Whrrr?"

"Coffee in bed for my one-and-only," Blaine said, same chirpy tone in his voice. "I just wanted you to start your day on a high note."

Kurt just looked at Blaine for a moment, stunned and sleepy and a little bit interested. "Thanks, B." He took a sip, smiling in bliss over the mug. "You're the best."

"I'd say no, you are, but that would only lead to a never-ending argument," Blaine teased.

"You may be right about that." Kurt leaned over and set his mug on the nightstand before pulling Blaine into a deep kiss. "But I still think you're pretty great."

Blaine's brain was too overloaded from that kiss for him to respond.

Later that day, Blaine wandered into the living room to see Kurt hunched over his laptop with a disgruntled expression on his face.

"Something wrong, babe?" Blaine asked, concerned. He plopped down on the couch next to Kurt.

"It's this project for my costume design class," Kurt said, huffing out a frustrated sigh. "I just can't get the clothes on screen to look like the clothes in my head, and I feel like I only know how to use about two of the features in this program."

"I'm sorry, honey," Blaine said. He felt the metaphorical light bulb click on over his head, making him scoot closer to Kurt and wrap an arm around his shoulder. "Mind if I help you out?"

"How - ohhh," Kurt moaned. Blaine had started massaging his shoulderblades, digging into the stiff knots all along his spine. "Keep doing that!"

"Whatever you want, my dear," Blaine said, grateful that Kurt had his eyes closed and couldn't see the smirk on his face. "I just want to make you feel better."

"You are, you really really are," Kurt said, relaxing into Blaine's touch.

Blaine grunted as he worked a particularly tough knot. "God, you're stiff."

Kurt practically threw his laptop to the ground before turning and pinning Blaine to the couch. "You've got that right," he said before sucking at Blaine's neck.

I have never had a better idea in my life was Blaine's last coherent thought.

"Hey, baby," Blaine called out cheerfully when he heard the front door swing open that evening. "How was your study group?"

"It was - guh."

"Good?" Blaine asked cheekily, holding the spoon he was stirring his pasta sauce with to his mouth. He bent over the stove as coquettishly as he could as he tested the flavor, hoping it made the apron bow over his ass stand out to good effect.

The glance he directed at Kurt made him believe it was.

Kurt was frozen in the entrance to the kitchen, jaw agape and face flushed. He was staring at Blaine's body, which was clad in a pink polo, white highwaters, and a matching pink-and-white gingham apron, tied tightly around his waist to highlight its narrowness.

"Well don't just stand there," Blaine said, keeping as straight a face as he could. "Dinner's almost ready! I've just got to get the food on the table." He gestured with his head to the nearby dining table, set with their nicest plates and candlesticks. He'd even run and gotten a bouquet of fresh flowers for an extra touch.

Just as Blaine finished dumping the sauce into a bowl and leaving the pan in the sink, he felt a lithe body press him into the corner of the countertop.

"You are driving me crazy," Kurt growled. He kissed Blaine like he was trying to devour him, groping Blaine's ass the whole time. "God, that apron."

Blaine couldn't help but laugh into Kurt's mouth, making him pull away and give Blaine a suspicious look.

"You have such a domesticity kink, Kurt Anderson-Hummel," Blaine said, smirking. "I could probably get away with just about anything if I was wearing this apron when I asked."

"Wait, you've been doing this on purpose?" Kurt asked, shocked. "Oh my God, I can't believe you!"

"Like you didn't exploit my love of your skinny jeans last week," Blaine shot back, making Kurt blush.

"I wear skinny jeans all the time!" he defended weakly.

"Those skinny jeans, though? With that shirt?"

"...Fine, I may have been teasing you. But you're hitting below the belt, Blaine! Your love of my ass is no secret, but I thought I was keeping my desire under wraps," Kurt said, frowning.

Blaine leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. "Babe, you almost defeated the purpose of me doing laundry when you walked in on me folding our clean sheets the other day. Not to mention the mess we made when you caught me scrapbooking our wedding photos."

Kurt's face was a mixture of shame and desire as he flashed back to those memories. "I'm not very subtle, am I?"

"Not at all. But there are worse turn-ons you could have," Blaine said. "This one's pretty easy for me to work with."

"So you like it?"

"Would I have gone to all this effort if I didn't?" Blaine shimmied his hips against Kurt's crotch, which was still pressed to his own.

Kurt groaned. "Blaine."

"I made sure there's whipped cream for dessert," Blaine said, winking. "But first, my gorgeous husband needs to enjoy the delicious dinner I made from scratch and get his strength up. I think I might need more than one round tonight."

Kurt's knees went weak, and Blaine had to catch him as he sagged. "You're killing me, B."

"Now you know how I felt last week when you 'dropped' that book in front of me and purposely jutted your ass out as you bent to pick it up," Blaine said, giving Kurt a quick peck on the lips. "Payback's a bitch, sweetheart."

"This isn't over, darling," Kurt retorted. "I'm expecting a new pair of jeans in the mail any day now."

Blaine stifled some kind of gurgle/moan combination. "Let's just have dinner."

"If that's what you'd like, dear." Kurt shook his hips the whole way to the table, making Blaine choke down another groan.

This was either the best idea I've ever had or the worst, he thought as he followed Kurt. I'll decide after tonight.

(Four rounds of mindblowing sex later, he went with best. even as he realized that Kurt was already planning a sneak attack of his own that might just kill him.

But what a way to go, right? he thought as he drifted off, Kurt pressed to his side.)