Song: Parachute – Train
Date: 21.08.12
Kurt giggled as he tried to open the door to his room, a task made harder by the fact that Blaine was stood on his tiptoes, planting tiny kisses across his neck. It was their one night a week that Reed spent the night elsewhere, leaving Kurt and Blaine with the room to themselves. And it seemed that tonight, Blaine couldn't wait.
Eventually, Kurt managed to open the door and the two of them tumbled into the room. In their haste to make it over to Kurt's bed, he clumsily knocked over a can of red paint.
"Fuck," he mumbled, breaking away from Blaine to survey the damage. The paint was slowly spreading across a seemingly blank canvas that had been lying on the floor, which on closer inspection was covered in Reed's messy sketches. He snatched the paint can back up but the damage was already done.
"What is it?" Blaine asked, already lying on the bed with his blazer unbuttoned. Kurt held up his – literally – red hands. "I knocked over Reed's paint and I think I've ruined one of his sketches."
Blaine sat up and looked at the red paint that covered the canvas; he let out a low whistle.
"Ohmigod, Reed is going to kill me," Kurt said, reaching for an old towel to wipe his hands on.
"I'll take the blame," Blaine quickly said before he'd even thought about what he was going to say. "It was partly my fault."
"Really? You'd do that?" Kurt asked, trying to mop up the remaining paint.
"Of course," Blaine said. He paused to think of what to say to justify his actions. "I'm your parachute," he said with a smile.