Prompt December 6th: Fall
This is a future-fic, with no spoilers beyond the boys living together in New York, set some time post-graduation.
Kurt's been observing his fiancé silently, watching him fold clothes carefully before placing them in his biggest suitcase. His shoulders are raised to his ears, and there's a tension in his back. He hasn't looked in Kurt's direction the entire time he's been standing in the doorway, but focusing on his task – walking between the wardrobe stand and the bed where his suitcase is. Almost half of Blaine's clothes are already removed from the stand. Kurt doesn't know if Blaine's gone through their dresser yet.
"Blaine, please talk to me?" he sighs.
Blaine shakes his head stubbornly, and Kurt can't be sure if that's a sniff he hears. That's it. With a few long strides he closes the distance between them. He wraps his arms under Blaine's, cupping his shoulders, and leans against him until his chest and Blaine's back are merged.
"You don't have to do this. Not now. Not ever."
"It's inevitable, Kurt, and you know it," Blaine says shortly, still trying to fold a pair of baby blue capris even with Kurt clinging to him.
"It doesn't have to be," Kurt insists. "We can find a solution to make this work, without feeling choked or crowded."
"Kurt," Blaine says, and there's a clear tone of warning in his voice. "I saw the weather forecast. Summer is officially over. It's time to say goodbye to these lovelies, and get the winter clothes out of storage."
"But it always breaks your heart to leave the clothes you love. The sun is still warming outside."
"There will be a drop in temperature by almost 15 degrees over the weekend. My ankles will be cold," Blaine mutters petulantly. "And who knows if I'll ever use these again. Maybe I'll get fat, like I did during my cronut crazy after I moved to New York. Or maybe high waters will be totally unacceptable to wear for the fiancé of a Vogue columnist." Blaine sidesteps him to open one of the drawers.
"You were never fat. And this Vogue columnist's fiancé can always pull off tight-fitted capris."
"Oh my God, all my sunglasses," Blaine all but sobs, and turns around with a selection of his colourful sunglasses cradled in his hands.
"Honey…" Kurt scoops the sunglasses out of his hands, and places them in the suitcase on top of Blaine's folded capris. Then he takes Blaine's hands in his. "I'm going to remind you now of some of the things I know you love about fall. Scarves, Blaine, remember those?" he says teasingly, and Blaine bites his lip to hold back a smile. "And then all the hats, beanies and fedoras of yours, they fill an entire box in our storage. Don't tell me you haven't missed those."
Blaine huffs and rolls his eyes, and it's just such a Kurt-thing to do, and Kurt loves him a little more for picking up some of his traits. He knows he has adopted some Blaineisms during the years too.
"Then of course we have your gorgeous coats. Mmm, you know how sexy I find you in that navy duffle coat. It reminds me of when we were young and had just met."
"We're still young," Blaine objects, but his eyes are shining, and he's leaning closer to Kurt, their chests brushing against each other.
"Also, with a new season comes new clothes in the stores. Shopping, Blaine, we can go shopping! We're not poor students anymore, so we can actually enjoy the heavens on earth and introduce our wardrobe to some new friends."
"There's this gorgeous chunky sweater I pass each day on my way to work," Blaine admits.
"It's been calling your name, hasn't it, but you've ignored it while wearing short-sleeved polos?"
Blaine nods, and pouts a little for effect.
"Then of course we have the predictable, but still cherished, envelope from Carole with new knitted socks, and I seem to remember a certain someone who loves to slide across the floor on those socks while belting out the current ear-churner on the Billboard list."
"You love my impromptu performances," Blaine puts on a haughty tone.
"Yes, and you love my extra special spicy hot chocolate, and that is not a summer indulgence."
"I've missed that," Blaine moans.
"If you finish packing, I might be persuaded to run down to the grocery store and get the very secret ingredients for a preview sample of said hot chocolate."
"You once said you could only share the recipe with your husband."
"Then I guess you'll learn about the secret ingredient in May," Kurt bats his eyelashes.
"You forgot one thing," Blaine hums, and kisses Kurt's jaw. "This fall also means wedding preparations. We're going to have the most awesome wedding ever."
"I love you," Kurt murmurs.
"I love you too," Blaine exhales. "Now go make your fiancé a drink, and I'll haul this very heavy suitcase to the loft, and wear my butt off dragging the fall clothes back here."
"I better hurry then, because I wouldn't want to miss the look of bulging biceps and pert butt after such heavy exercise."
"Kurt," Blaine whines. "I don't want sex, I want hot chocolate."
"Already sick of our sex? We're not even married yet," Kurt chuckles, and grabs keys and wallet as he skips out. He'll enjoy the last rays of summer sun, before fall opens up a new world for them.