Fireplace

by padfoot

Inspired by post 12247871034 by leeminkyo on tumblr


"Blaine, what are you doing lighting a fire? It's not even that cold out!"

Kurt was scowling as he entered the living room, his eyes drawn, as usual, to the hideous statuette on the mantle piece before settling on his boyfriend. Blaine was kneeling before the fireplace, prodding at the pile of sticks and logs inside as they began to crackle, submitting themselves willingly to the small flames licking at them hungrily.

"But it could get cold soon," Blaine reasoned as he tossed the poker to the side and closed the glass screen, blocking out the cool breeze that had accompanied Kurt into the room. "Besides, it's much more romantic like this."

The last part was said with a grin, thrown carelessly over his shoulder before Blaine shuffled backwards to admire his handiwork. The fire was burning in earnest now, and Kurt could hear the faint whooshing noise as it sucked in air from outside, transforming it into wisps of smoke that were promptly wove up the chimney. He tired not to look impressed at Blaine's efforts, instead turning his attention back to the statuette as he approached, toeing off his shoes before stepping onto the fluffy carpet that covered the tiled floor.

The chalet was, although far from perfect, free - it had been a gift from Blaine's parents, who'd agreed to pay a week's rent as a peace offering to their son - and that simple fact made all of it far more attractive to Kurt than it would otherwise have been. Of course, the imperfections sometimes (often) got in the way, from the hole in the kitchen floor to the creaky beds to that damn statuette that was the single flaw in the otherwise charming living room.

Well, the second flaw, now that Blaine had lit the fire.

"You know that soot is going to get on the rug," Kurt pointed out, walking to stand beside his boyfriend, who was still kneeling on the floor, eyes fixed on the growing flames before him. "And then I'll have to clean it up, and do you have any idea how difficult it is to get soot out of shag? If I have to wash it it will never dry in this weather, and I don't even know how far away the nearest dry cleaner is-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted, turning to look up.

His hazel eyes still reflected some of the fire's light, and Kurt inhaled deeply to hide a gasp at the mesmerising effect of it - the deep russet and sparkling gold that danced in Blaine's irises, as is the fire itself was burning inside him.

"Hmm?" Kurt responded, unable to frame anything remotely close to a word, let alone a sentence.

"Relax. Please."

A small smile curled on Kurt's lips at Blaine's earnest tone, and he let Blaine take his fingers from where they were tugging on the side of his too-big sweater and pull them to his lips, kissing them softly.

"The rug is not going to get dirty. The fire will not be too hot. In fact, if you just sit down here with me, I promise you this evening will be perfect."

Kurt's smile grew tender at the words, and he reached out to trace a line down the side of Blaine's face, feeling where his cheeks were flushed from sitting so close to the heat of the fireplace. The light caress elicited a shiver from Blaine, and his eyes fluttered closed as he leant into Kurt's hand, needing to be nearer, needing to feel more.

"Come sit down," Blaine tried again, breathing the words into Kurt's palm, lifting a hand up to capture his fingers as their touch lightened and they began to pull away. "The fire is so delightful."

Kurt groaned, rolling his eyes and tugging his hand away, laughing at little when Blaine made a faint whimpering noise at the loss of contact.

"This evening is certainly not going to be perfect if you insist on quoting songs to me, Blaine Anderson," Kurt warned, fixing his boyfriend with a stern look as he moved away a step, closer to the fireplace.

Blaine opened his mouth to respond, but Kurt cut him off by saying, "And that includes any mention of it being 'cold outside'."

Frowning somewhat petulantly, Blaine obediently shut his mouth again.

Trying to hide a laugh at his boyfriend's expression, Kurt turned away, his gaze fixing again on that stupid little statuette that seemed to mock him from its position above the now roaring fire. As much as Kurt hated to admit it, this evening very well could be perfect - what with the fire and Blaine and the rug and Blaine and Blaine and Blaine, looking so damn perfect in his jacket and loose pants, warms socks on his feet and his hair beginning to fall from its shackles of gel. And despite his concern about ashes and soot, really, there was only one thing in Kurt's mind that was stopping this scene from being ideal (well, two things, given that Blaine was clothed, but that could be remedied soon enough): the statuette.

Hoping the action appeared casual, Kurt absently lifted a hand to stroke across the head of the small, ugly excuse for a - what was it, exactly? An angel? An elf? A fairy? Kurt honestly couldn't tell which - piece of art. He could feel Blaine's eyes on his back, and knew his next move would have to be careful if he wanted to get away with it.

"I don't think this should stay here," Kurt said, as if the idea were just an errant thought.

"Is that so?" Blaine replied, and Kurt could tell that already he was teasing. Blaine knew exactly how hideous that bloody statuette was. Good. At least they were on the same page.

"I mean, I wouldn't want it to get... dirty... from being above the fire."

"You make a valid point. Something as- uh, unique as that should be kept far away from anything that could hurt it."

The silent 'like you' was heavily implied.

"Yes. I agree. I think I'll move it."

Kurt picked it up, surprised at its weight in his hand, and did his best to resist throwing it against the nearest wall. Oh, it was would be so satisfactory to see it hit the brick, maybe lose an arm or a leg or one of those ridiculous wings...

But, no. This wasn't his house (thank God) or his statuette. He'd just put it out of sight. Somewhere where it's beady little eyes couldn't watch him, constantly staring as if waiting for him to do something offensive.

With a calmness that he was proud of, Kurt carried the statuettes out of the room, shoved it in the back of pantry and, skipping over the hole in the kitchen floor, returned to the living room. Blaine was still waiting for him on the floor, sitting with his legs crossed now, still in front of the fire. His cheeks were positively glowing, and Kurt wondered vaguely if it was possible to get sunburn from a fireplace.

But then Blaine was gazing at his with a wide, inviting gaze, lifting an hand out in a wordless beckon for Kurt to come closer. And, now that there was no creepy angel/elf/fairy monstrosity watching him, Kurt acquiesced, sinking down onto the rug and snuggling into Blaine's side.

"You're all warm," he mumbled into Blaine's neck, one hand coming up to tug at his collar so Kurt could press his lips against the skin there.

Blaine hummed in agreement, both his arms slipping around Kurt's body, pulling him closer, until his chest was pressed against Kurt's side.

"I think you need some warming up," he suggested, a smile clear in his tone.

Kurt let his eyes fall shut as he felt Blaine's lips tickling his hair, his forehead, his eyebrows, tempting his head up from where it was still buried in Blaine's neck. They shared a soft, brief kiss - a prologue, a promise, a spark: a mere hint of what was yet to come.

Struggling to open his eyes as Blaine kissed down his chin, along his cheek, over to his ear, Kurt watched the rough-smooth movement of Blaine's jaw, the shifting skin and light smattering of stubble, so distinctly human and real and Blaine...

"I love you," he murmured, letting his eyes close again and letting out a desperate sort of moan as Blaine pulled his earlobe into his mouth, sucking it lightly.

Of its own accord, Kurt's hand was pulling harder at Blaine's collar, urging him closer, trying valiantly to remove every inch of space between their bodies, curled up on the rug. He felt Blaine's hold on him tighten, a palm pressing hard and solid against his hip, fingers playing with hem of Kurt's sweater.

"Me too," Blaine whispered back, pulling detaching himself from his boyfriend's earlobe only for the moment it took to reply.

Kurt moaned outright this time at the new sensation of Blaine's teeth, just skimming over the shell of his ear as he kissed around it.

"So," Blaine started again, his tone still soft and silky smooth, his lips still brushing oh-so-slightly against Kurt's skin, making Kurt's whole body buzz with a pleasant mix of anticipation and adoration. "Now that I've got this romantic fire going, how about we shag. On the shag."

There was a moment of silence, and Kurt could practically feel the laughter that Blaine was suppressing twitching in his lips, which were still pressed temptingly against the hollow beneath Kurt's ear. But two could play at this game.

"Sounds perfect," Kurt replied.

And if, the next day, there were some unseemly stains in the rug, well... Kurt was sure that Blaine would be happy to scrub them out. And he'd make sure the statuette was there to supervise his boyfriend's progress.