Persuasive

When Kurt arrived home early, at 4:30 in the afternoon, he was surprised to find the couch without Blaine on it. Somehow in the course of one night Blaine had seemed to have become a permanent fixture in Kurt's mind, and Kurt had spent the drive home wondering what mood Blaine would be in, only to find that he apparently needn't have worried about it.

Shrugging it off and wondering vaguely if Blaine had used his absence as a chance to leave without having to answer for himself, Kurt set down his things and wandered into the kitchen. He was already in the midst of heating day-old lasagna before he heard the soft chime of piano music coming from his bedroom.

"Blaine?" Sure enough, when Kurt peered into his bedroom, Blaine was there, seated on the leather-padded bench, his eyes closed and his fingers moving softly across the ivory and ebony keys like a feather-light whisper. He was singing very lightly under his breath, a song that Kurt didn't recognize - maybe one that he'd written himself - and Kurt stood in the doorway watching, mesmerized, before it suddenly came over him that this moment was Blaine's, one that he thought he was alone in, and Kurt felt like an intruder on something private and illicit.

Before Kurt could turn away and retreat, the microwave timer in the kitchen blared out, snapping both men from their thoughts and recalling them to the present, and Blaine spun around to catch sight of Kurt lurking in the doorway. "Oh! I didn't know you came home." Blaine's speech faltered on the last word and a slight flush appeared in his neck and cheeks before he gestured to the piano and continued, "I hope you don't mind - you mentioned it needed tuning, and then I just got carried away…" Blaine trailed off and then looked innocently up at Kurt.

"It's fine. I'm sorry I was listening."

Blaine laughed suddenly, and then, seeing Kurt raise an eyebrow, explained, "You're apologizing for listening to your own piano being played in your own house."

"Yeah, I guess I am," Kurt agreed in a nervous chuckled. Then, looking at Blaine, he suddenly realized the physical transformation that accompanied the good mood and the ease with which Blaine smiled and spoke - he was wearing a fresh change of clothes and was shaven, his hair in its usual gelled order. "You got new clothes," Kurt observed aloud.

"I haven't gone to see Sebastian yet," Blaine said knowingly, answering the real question that Kurt had been too polite to ask. "I gave him back my key before I left and I'd rather not go back and have to ask to get into the place I used to live."

"You left all your stuff behind?" Kurt raised his eyebrows.

"Look, I wasn't thinking very clearly when I left, okay?"

Kurt sighed and seemed to be struggling not to roll his eyes. "Do you want a ride there?"

"What?" Blaine asked blankly.

"You're wearing new clothes, and they're not mine or apparently yours, so you must have bought them today, and I'm not letting you buy a whole new wardrobe just because you're too prideful to get your real clothes back from Sebastian."

Blaine looked uncomfortable and oddly hurt for a moment, but then his lips twitched into a smirk and he asked with overblown amazement, "Is Kurt Hummel really advising me to pass over an opportunity to go shopping?"

"Funny," Kurt deadpanned. "Now, do you want a ride there or not?"

"Thanks, but I'm good."

"You don't intend to go at all," Kurt said, narrowing his eyes. When Blaine only shrugged, Kurt pointed out, "You do realize that with you living here I'm going to notice if you don't go?"

Blaine frowned. "I don't live here, Kurt," he reminded gently.

Kurt chewed on his lip, apparently stumped, but only for a moment. "We'll talk about it over lasagna."

Blaine held up his hands in incredulity at Kurt's bizarre resolution to the conversation, but Kurt merely laughed and asked, "Do you want my lasagna or not?"

Blaine stood up from the piano bench and gestured towards the kitchen. "Lead the way."

"That's what I thought."

"Fine," Blaine finally said, scraping the last of lasagna sauce from his plate and licking his fork.

"'Fine' what?" Kurt looked up, feigning innocence, his eyes held open wide and ambivalent.

"You win, okay? I'll go. To see Sebastian."

"Good," Kurt smiled, his expression smug. He'd known from experience that all the persuasion needed would be the offer of a ride, planted there to niggle at Blaine all through dinner as Kurt made small talk and waited patiently for Blaine to cave in.

"Don't think I'm unaware of your plotting," Blaine growled playfully, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at Kurt across the small kitchen table.

"I haven't done anything," Kurt protested, smiling knowingly.

"I know all your tricks. You got exactly what you wanted without having to ask."

"It's not my fault you can't resist me," Kurt said coyly, rising and beginning to clear the dishes away. "Come give me a hand with this," he added, waving a dishcloth at Blaine, knowing that he would feel more relaxed to be helping out.

Blaine stood and took the dishcloth from Kurt, proceeding to take the rinsed dishes from Kurt and dry them. "I know what you're doing."

"Mmm?" Kurt hummed. "And what's that?"

"You're keeping me busy so that I don't have time to think better of this."

"Clever you," Kurt said dryly, inwardly relieved that Blaine wasn't perceptive enough to know that really, everything Kurt was doing was in an attempt to preserve the strange, fragile peace between them. Sebastian was easy. You drove there, let Blaine finish his business, and took him back. Blaine had said it himself - "I don't live here." Dealing with Sebastian to fill the time in the present was easier than trying to settle when Blaine would leave, where he'd go then, and why he'd even come in the first place.

A/N: I know this chapter was short and that nothing major happened plot-wise, but the next chapter is longer and full of drama and includes their visit to Sebastian. I've already finished writing it, so I'll post it once I get at least 5 reviews for this chapter. Thanks for reading! :)