Hi, you lovely readers! Here, have another mediocre-ly written chapter of Domestic Bliss! I mentioned basically all of the food I eat besides the usual. Reviews make me happy and more willing to study for my midterm exams! :)

"We are not ordering tikka biryani, okay? We're just not."

"What on earth is tikka biryani?"

"I don't know, I remember you talking about it once, and I just- no! No no no! It's my turn to order something, and I want to go out!"

"Fancy, it's vegetable biryani, and chicken tikka! Not tikka biryani," Dave said, shaking his head slowly, smirking.

"Whatever it is, we're not ordering it. I've had enough of your stupid Pakistani food!"

"…Did you just call the greatest food of all time stupid?"

"I did."

"You realize I grew up on this food, right? My dad's sister married a Pakistani man, and he used to make the best food I've ever tasted. Why wouldn't I want to order desi take out in rememberance?"

Kurt threw his hands up in the air, sighing loudly.

"Fine, I don't want any food."

"David Karofsky, don't be a child."

Dave said nothing, looking away pointedly.

"Come on, David! You can obviously see my point here, can't you? Last week it was minced meat and rice; three days ago it was yellow lentils and rice. I am tired of all the spicy food that I can't pronounce the names off."

"It's called qeema, dhal, and chaval."

"That's nice, David. Now get up, we're going out."

"Don't wanna."

"Do you know how much of a child you sound like?"

Dave huffed, and got up slowly, marching out of the lounge and into the bedroom. Reappearing two minutes later, he grabbed the keys and opened the door, looking at Kurt with narrowed eyes.

"Thank you."

As they walked out of the apartment door and stepped into the elevator, Kurt slowly brought his hand closer to David's, slipping his fingers through his hand and squeezing. Dave held on, but looked away, holding up his angry façade.

Getting into the car, Kurt started the ignition, backing out of the parking space, and programming the navigator.

"Also, thank you for actually putting pants on."

Dave looked over angrily as Kurt smirked.

"We're here."

"This is the place?"

"Yeah. I googled it when you were changing- it's a restaurant owned by a Middle Eastern couple. They may not have 'chicken teeka'-"

"Chicken tikka"

"Chicken tikka, but they do have lots of barbeque, and salads for me too! There's Fatoush, and-"

Dave abruptly pulled Kurt in for a kiss, making Kurt gasp as he brushed his thumb against Kurt's cheek. Kurt smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Dave's neck, moving in closer. Pulling away slightly, Dave smiled.

"You're fucking amazing, Kurt," he breathed, looking into Kurt's eyes.

"I knew you couldn't be angry at me for too long," Kurt teased, pulling away to open the door.

"Sometimes you knowing me too well doesn't have its advantages," Dave grumbles, getting out of the car.

"Be grateful and eat your chicken, Karofsky," Kurt said rolling his eyes.

"Oh, back to last names, are we?" Dave said, smirking as he wrapped his arms around Kurt, pushing the glass door open.

Suddenly they were swarmed by men and women, all very loud, very happy, and not speaking English.

"You didn't..."

"I didn't think I'd need to check!"

Dave chuckled, and pulled his arm away from Kurt, moving his arms around, trying to signal that they wanted a table for two.

One of the employees understood. Grinning, he led them to a table and motioned for them to sit down with a triumph grin on his face. Smiling, Dave sat down, looking over at Kurt.

"This is going to be fun."

Kurt laughed.