WATC 10
The following Friday night is spent in an almost identical way to the previous Friday. Tai is working and Kurt is sitting on his couch in his sweats, watching reality TV; only this time he's made a healthy stir-fry and is chewing happily on some grilled, soy flavored chicken while somebody does something horrifically embarrassing on live TV.
Blaine is beside him, dressed almost the same, sipping from a cool glass of lemonade that Kurt has freshly made; and has a rice noodle wrapped around a chopstick suspended half way to his mouth.
During an ad break, Blaine looks around the apartment and smiles. He sighs a little wistfully which has Kurt looking at him oddly. "You know, I love this place. It's just so cool and small and homey and just nice." He shrugs placidly.
This is the second time this week that Blaine has come over. The first time being on Wednesday, claiming that he had a fashion crisis and was desperate for Kurt's help. As it happens, when he had arrived Kurt was very quick to realize that Blaine's so called emergency was nothing but a basic colour picking decision for a tie and shirt combo for some management meeting. Tai had found it all very amusing; given them both pointed looks and then promptly left for an evening study group he had pre-arranged. This left Kurt and Blaine spending the rest of the evening playing board games that Tai had brought from his parents house when he'd moved in.
It had been better than anything Kurt had planned for his Wednesday evening, that much he'll admit.
"Oh yeah," Kurt scoffs, amusement etched across his face. "Because I'm so sure that this old shoebox is much nicer and bigger than wherever you live—where do you live by the way?" It had never occurred to Kurt to ask until now.
Blaine glances away sheepishly. "Greenwich Village— I have a condo."
Of course you do. Kurt scoffs again, also laughing. "Oh you poor thing, how awful. I sure bet that you don't get the luxury of standing in your kitchen, watching the TV in your living room while also being able to hear your roommate in the shower and Mrs Hammersmith from next door wandering up and down the hallway outside your front door looking for her cat!"
Blaine giggles and smirks at him. "I'm just saying that I get lonely. My place is too big for just me. I feel more comfortable here."
"Aww" Kurt sticks his bottom lip out teasingly, "why don't you just move to the slums, huh? Or better yet just move on in here with us." Blaine's face lights up and Kurt is quick to shake his head no, his brow knitted tight. "I was kidding, Blaine."
Blaine pouts and Kurt looks back at the TV smiling and shaking his head. The show they were watching starts up and again and they're both quiet for a short while with just the odd chuckle from one of them because of something stupid happening on screen.
"You wanna come?" Blaine says quietly.
Kurt turns his head away from the TV, his eyebrow arched. The question 'where?' stated clearly in his eyes.
"My place." Blaine reiterates. "You wanna come check it out sometime? I mean-I um, I don't really know how to cook per se but I like watching cooking shows, so I could probably try and rustle up something, and I could show you my games room. It'd be fun—"
"We're not talking Mr Grey style here?" Kurt asks mock-indignation in his tone. To be honest, he wouldn't put it past Blaine.
"No!" Blaine replies, looking appalled. "My room is way better equipped than that idiot's." He winks and Kurt bats his knee against Blaine's, giggling.
"You busy tomorrow at anytime?" Blaine asks before Kurt can even answer his original question. He finishes his food and puts the empty bowl down in front of him. "That was delicious, by the way, thank you. You're an awesome cook."
"You're welcome, thank you." Kurt replies, blushing a little. He carefully stacks his own empty bowl inside of Blaine's. "I have some studying and rehearsing that I should probably do for my finals tomorrow but apart from that I have no plans."
Blaine squeaks and bounces on the couch cushion beside Kurt and angles his body to face Kurt. "Will you come for dinner, please?"
And with pleading eyes like that and such an excited smile; and the fact that he'd already said he had no plans, how could Kurt say no?
"Hey!" Blaine says brightly the moment he's opened his front door, he swings it wide and steps aside to let Kurt come in. He's wearing light gray slacks and a white shirt that is un-tucked and unbuttoned down to his breast bone. His feet are bare and his hair looks like he's pushed his hand through it a number of times during the course of the day.
Kurt's eyes quickly sweep up and down Blaine's body before peeping around Blaine's home. On very quick inspection he finds (just as expected) that the condo is huge, elegant and must have cost an amount of money that Kurt can only dream about. It's well decorated and fabulously furnished. The walls are painted in a pallet of muted Grays infused with clear glass that lets you peek into the next room. The furniture throughout is mostly black leather and dark finished wood; and there's thousands of dollars of technology all around, all bigger than anything Kurt owns put together.
It's beyond lovely, of course, but it just doesn't scream home to Kurt. It's so clear and empty and open. He can almost understand what Blaine was talking about last night. Kurt isn't sure if he would like to live here alone either.
In true Blaine fashion, he steps forward as soon as the door is closed, intending to pull Kurt into a warm hug; only he's stopped by a big grocery bag hanging from Kurt's hands below his stomach.
"What's this?" Blaine asks, trying to peer down into the bag.
"Well," Kurt smiles, small and a little shy "you've brought me flowers, and had that massive basket of chocolate sent to me—which I'm still working on by the way, and I just thought as I'm the guest tonight I would bring something too, for you. Well, us actually."
"Oh," Blaine grins, "and what is it that you've brought?"
Kurt's face changes from coy to impish. His tone is dripping with sarcasm when he speaks. "Please do forgive me for assuming, and I apologise if I am wrong. But may I ask what's for dinner?"
Blaine's expression goes from delighted to disappointed in under a second. It's very amusing. "I- I tried to think of something to cook for us that wouldn't burn my kitchen down or smell or taste like dog food but- I- well I know this great Asian place that delivers and—"
"Just as I thought," Kurt clucks his tongue but he's smiling. He hikes the bag up into his arms and the top of a carrot pops up into view. "I'm going to make us dinner, and while doing so teach you how to cook. Now direct me to your kitchen."
Blaine's jaw hangs as he points down the hallway, and as he watches Kurt march off his smile widens so much that it almost hurts.
"This dish is so quick and easy to make." Kurt says as he washes up at Blaine's kitchen's sink. "You can make it for a number of events and you'll always be able to add new ingredients to change it up a little every time you make it."
Blaine is standing behind him listening intently, his eyes following Kurt's every move. Every time Kurt peeks back at him over his shoulder he loves the fond expression he finds on Blaine's face. It's so endearing.
Blaine is wearing a red apron that Kurt had brought for him, with the words 'Chef's little helper' emblazoned on the front. They swap positions and Blaine's scrubs his hands while Kurt puts on his black apron and ties it around his waist. Kurt had dressed prepared tonight in a pair of stone-washed jeans and a simple teal colored Henley; comfortable and easy to move around the kitchen in, old enough for cooking stains or marks but also nice enough for Blaine's gaze to linger on him a little too long.
Blaine's kitchen is your typical dream kitchen you'd find in Forbe's magazine and Kurt hadn't expected any less. There are a number of shiny appliances plugged in along the counter tops, pretty much every cooking utensil or gadget that any cook could ever want but none of it looks used. At all.
"Have you even cooked in this kitchen at all?" Kurt asks Blaine as he empties the bag of groceries onto a clear black, shiny granite worktop.
Blaine hangs his head and shakes it side to side, making Kurt giggle at him. "Not once? How long have you lived here?"
Blaine looks back up at him with a pout on his lips but a playful twinkle in his eye. He shrugs, feigning a look of innocence. Kurt laughs and picks out a chopping knife from the holder. "Get over here. First lesson, rinsing and chopping."
Kurt doesn't care to admit exactly how much the sweet, warming feeling of having Blaine beside him while he bosses him around his own kitchen, is leaving him somewhat satisfied and slightly, inexplicably…happy.
"Blaine, how many times do I have to tell you, no!" Kurt laughs, bending over to stack the last dish into Blaine's entirely too large for one person dishwasher.
When he straightens and turns he catches Blaine looking at him, his eyes focused a littler lower down than they need to be. When Blaine sees he's been caught he only grins and leans against the counter, hands in his trousers pockets. "Come on Kurt. I'll offer you a great a salary, benefits you can't refuse and—"
Kurt laughs louder, swats at Blaine with a nearby dish cloth and says "no, I won't be your live-in chef. Quite frankly I'm surprised that you don't already have a legion of staff around here."
"Why do I need a legion when I can have you?" Blaine replies, charmingly, eyelashes fluttering.
"Seriously, why don't you have any help around here?" Kurt asks, genuinely curious.
"Don't need it." Blaine shrugs and the way he answers indicates that he's not quite prepared to expand. He sidesteps and catches one end of the cloth as Kurt playfully swipes at him again; only this time he holds on tight and pulls hard leaving Kurt no option but to be pulled with it, closer to Blaine.
When they're standing toe to toe, Kurt drops his end of the towel but doesn't get very far as Blaine swoops in, tackling Kurt by the waist and tries to tickle his sides.
"Oh my god, you are not about to start a tickle fight" Kurt gasps, wriggling away from him, "you child." His smile is wide and teasing and Blaine's is almost identical. As they laugh, wriggle and scurry their way out of the kitchen and into the hallway in a tangle of limbs.
They're like children. Playful, naughty, happy children. Kurt can't remember the last time he allowed himself to just be like this. To not rise to any expectation of himself.
Blaine skips ahead giddily. "Come on this way" he calls and takes off around a corner, his hand waving in the air for Kurt to follow.
When Kurt rounds the corner he finds the door to the last room in the hallway open. He approaches it and can just make out the dark curly top of Blaine's head from the back of a large, cosy looking, black leather couch.
Kurt steps inside, a slow grin starting to spread as he looks around the, deviously large room. The walls are painted a bright, happy purple and the floor beneath his feet is cherry, shiny oak, hardwood. Along the whole back wall are shelves among shelves of DVD's, video games, CD's, books, comic magazines, board games. You name it, it's there.
There's a chess table, a pool table, chairs and couches everywhere. A sound system built into the wall with speakers in every crevice. Kurt's eyes flick over once again to the black leather couch where Blaine is hiding. A very, wide and thin Plasma TV screen is hanging from the ceiling in front of it, halfway from the floor, extended by a sturdy metal frame.
Kurt walks over to the couch, braces his hands along the top and bends over. "Boo" he smiles; laughing at Blaine's grinning face looking up at him. He's spread out wide, two playstation controllers resting in his lap.
"Let the games commence." Blaine announces, patting the space beside him.
Hours later, Kurt is kicking Blaine's ass, button bashing and yelling at the screen, with Blaine curled up to his side, laughing and yelling also; when it occurs to him that Blaine simply could be…lonely?
As smiley as he usually is, Kurt has still never seen Blaine smile quite as much as he has tonight, sharing his home and his space with Kurt. There's a spring in his step and spark in his eye, more so than usual.
This house is amazing, everything in it is amazing. But how cool can one thing be if there is nobody around to share it with? How boring and lonesome must it become?
Blaine is the man who has everything and yet somehow…not enough?
Where are his friends? Kurt wonders. His family? Why doesn't he have a cook, a cleaner? Does he live on take-out every night or dine out? Where are his fans and the flash of cameras outside of his windows just dying to get a glimpse of Blaine Anderson's home life?
There are none. It's non-existent.
Blaine pauses the game noticing that Kurt's heart isn't quite in it anymore and sits up straight, looking over at Kurt questionably.
And Kurt gets it, he sees it in the set of Blaine's jaw and the flinch of his Adam's apple when he swallows. Blaine might like to have a budding relationship with Kurt eventually, but before he gets there he needs to learn how to have a friendship. He needs companionship.
Maybe something, that he has never had the joy of knowing.
And it's then when Kurt looks back at Blaine, slowly blinking, understanding settling deep within him that he realizes something he himself needs. Something that he has never had the joy of knowing, either.
Maybe, whatever this is between them is a two-way street, after all. Maybe they can beat the odds.