Blaine awoke slowly, a feeling of peace infusing him. A smile broke out on his face thinking about the previous night. He opened his eyes and turned, only to find the bed beside him was empty. Even that couldn't diminish his good mood. Stretching languidly, he hummed a tune that had been playing around in his head for the last couple days. He'd have to write it down and play it on his guitar to see if he could take it somewhere. Getting out of bed, he went to take a long shower. After that his plan was to hunt down his husband and kiss him on those delicious full lips. It was going to be a long day as his belongings were supposed to arrive. He wanted to carry on the fun and bonding that had been going on between him and Kurt over the past couple days. As much as he'd cursed and ranted about having to move and marry a stranger, he was starting to think it was the best thing that could have happened to him.
Leaving the shower and dressing in bright red slacks with a black polo shirt, he left the bedroom in search of Kurt. He still couldn't get over how big the condo was. Room after room went by before he heard Kurt humming. His husband was curled up in a chair near the floor to ceiling window in the main living area.
For a moment, Blaine paused and took in the sight before him. Kurt was dressed in black skinny jeans and a shimmery red button up. His feet were bare and Blaine had to admit to a weakness for bare feet. He wanted nothing to do with feet, but the look was just somehow raw. Kurt had his long legs hanging over the side of the chair, slowly bouncing to the quiet rhythm of the song he was humming. He had a large sketch pad in his hand and was busily filling in a sketch.
Blaine walked up to him and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Good morning, husband."
Kurt hummed at the kiss and looked up with a carefree smile. "Good morning, husband. Did you sleep well?"
"I did. Did you? Looks like you've been up for a while," Blaine commented.
"I slept very well," Kurt said, blushing. "I woke up and was inspired, so I got up to draw before I forgot the ideas. Do you want to see?"
"Of course! I've been curious about your creative process," Blaine said.
Kurt turned his pad toward Blaine and showed him the picture of a man dressed in close fit slacks and a highly detailed jacket.
"I really like that, Kurt," Blaine said, pointing out the details he appreciated. "I swear that model looks familiar."
"That's because it's you, silly," Kurt said, smiling. "You inspired me."
"Awesome! So, if you end up making this, does that mean I get the outfit for free?" Blaine said, wiggling his eyebrows at Kurt.
"Of course you get the Kurt Hummel husband discount," Kurt teased.
"Just a discount?" Blaine replied with a shocked expression that made Kurt burst out giggling.
"Yep. It couldn't be as little as ten percent or as high as one hundred percent off. Depends on how nice you are to me," Kurt informed him.
"Uh huh. Well, I do remember being pretty nice to you," Blaine said with a wink.
"Blaine!" Kurt cried, his face burning red.
"You are so cute when you're blushing. I'll leave you to your drawing. I smell coffee and that takes precedence over embarrassing my husband," Blaine said and walked away. Something hit his back and he looked down to see a balled up piece of paper. "Did you throw that at me?"
"No," Kurt deadpanned.
"Uh huh. Sure. See if I let you sit in my massage chair when it gets here today," Blaine said and stuck his tongue out.
"Go drink your coffee before I decide to dump it out," Kurt threatened.
"Going," Blaine called and hurried to the kitchen.
Blaine prepared his cup of coffee before calling out to Kurt. "Can I get you a cup?"
Kurt smiled his way. "Sure. Two sugar cubes and a nice dollop of half and half, please."
Following his orders, Blaine brought the cup to him before settling in the chair across from him.
"Thank you, this is perfect," Kurt said, giving a sigh of satisfaction as he sipped the hot liquid.
"No problem," Blaine said.
They went quiet, though Blaine noticed it was a comfortable silence. He didn't feel compelled to say anything and Kurt was busy with his pencils and tablet. Blaine gazed out the window, appreciating the view from up so high. Though he had to admit to a feeling of vertigo with the floor to ceiling windows. He could look straight down the building to the streets below where the cars looked like toys and the people looked like ants rushing about. Turning his eyes to his husband, he couldn't help appreciating the view. Kurt was utterly lost in what he was doing and there was something beautiful about it that he couldn't resist. Watching him creating his art, his passion. Blaine completely got it, he was the same way when he was writing or composing. When you found that one thing that you loved to do more than anything else, you could lose yourself for hours and never know a single minute had passed.
"Why don't you use those designer computer tablets?" he asked Kurt. He kept his voice quiet so he didn't scare the man in the quiet room.
"I've never liked those things. Sure they work great and have a ton of options. It would certainly make designing quicker. But it doesn't feel the same to me. I've been drawing clothes all my life, since I was little and would plan my outfits for the weekend. When I went to college and was taught how to use the tablets, it felt like I was losing out on something, that there was something missing from my creative process. My grades actually went down for a while because I couldn't create like I wanted to. But I adjusted and did things their way. I ended up graduating at the head of my class. As soon as I graduated, I gave my tablet away and haven't used one since."
Blaine nodded. "I completely understand. I hand write when I compose and write songs. It's more organic than putting everything through a machine. And obviously, for you, it hasn't done you wrong. You created a name from something you did with your hands. I'm impressed."
Kurt looked at him and smiled. "Thank you, really. So many people tell me how much more I could do, how much more I could put out if I gave in and used computers like all the other designers do. But I think I'm doing just fine," he said somewhat arrogantly.
Chuckling, Blaine agreed. "That you are."
They were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Kurt leapt up and went to the door with Blaine trailing after him.
A tall, muscular man was at the door. "I'm Max with Gentle Movers. Blaine Anderson?"
"That's me," Blaine said. "You guys are right on time, I appreciate that. Did the drive go okay?"
"Yes sir," Max responded. "It was kinda fun to drive all the way across the country. Can we begin bringing your stuff up?"
"Yeah, that would be great," Blaine said.
"If you tell the front desk that you are bringing stuff up to my condo, they will shut the elevator down to everyone else, so you won't be interrupted," Kurt offered.
"How do you rate that?" Blaine asked, his eyes wide.
"Well, it comes with the name and the fact that I own the most expensive condo in the building," Kurt said, his cheeks filling with color.
"What is your name sir?" Max asked, digging out a well used notepad and pencil.
"Kurt Hummel," Blaine told the man.
The man's eyes widened. "Kurt Hummel? Like the designer Kurt Hummel?"
Kurt nodded warily. "Yeah, that's me."
"Oh man, my wife is going to go nuts! I bought her one of your purses for our tenth anniversary. Didn't you do a guest spot on Project Runway as a judge?" Max asked excitedly.
"I did. Did your wife like the purse?" Kurt asked graciously.
"Are you kidding? She loved it!" Max cried. "Oh my god, she's gonna freak out. Is there any way I can get a picture with you. She's not going to believe me if I just tell her." He dug out his phone hopefully.
"Of course," Kurt said, moving forward. "Blaine, would you mind?"
"Sure thing," Blaine said. He was feeling a little out of his element. He hadn't been exposed to Kurt's fame. It had seemed like an abstract idea, but here it was staring him in the face. This man knew more about his husband's career than he did. He took the man's phone and lined the two of them up in the lens before snapping a picture. "Hold on, I'll take a couple in case they turn out bad." He snapped a couple more and once again saw another side to his husband. Kurt looked natural in front of a camera, giving him subtly different looks and poses for the few pictures he took. This was a different Kurt than the one he'd been married to the last couple weeks. This was a celebrity.
Blaine handed the phone back to Max and watched as Kurt graciously signed his notepad, writing out a personal message to the man's wife. Kurt seemed completely comfortable in the situation, not surprised or angry like some celebrities might be.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Hummel," Max said. "I'm going to get down there and start unloading the truck. We have a team of four, so just tell them where to go when they get up here."
"Sounds good," Kurt said. "Blaine will handle the directing, so just have them listen to him."
Max disappeared out the door and into the elevator. Kurt left the door open and turned back to his chair and his abandoned cup of coffee.
"That was… interesting," Blaine said.
Kurt looked at him, concerned. "I'm sorry. Did that make you uncomfortable? Did it seem like I took over the situation? Because I didn't mean to."
"No, no, it's fine. I just haven't been exposed to Kurt Hummel, designer, before," he said. "Maybe I'm a little star struck."
"Oh stop," Kurt said. "It's just part of the package. Think you can handle it?" he teased.
Blaine went and stood right in his face, his gaze scorching. "I can handle you and I think that's all that matters," he said darkly. Taking Kurt's shocked face in his hands, he tilted his head and kissed him hard. His tongue demanded entrance and it was given with a soft whimper. He controlled the kiss, dominating Kurt's mouth and tongue with his own. The heat rose between them quickly and they wrapped their arms around each other. Blaine's hot tongue dueled with Kurt's, licking and sucking.
A knock on the door interrupted them and Blaine turned away to give the movers directions on where to start putting the boxes.
He turned back a moment later and saw that Kurt was standing there looking stunned and turned on, his fingers tracing over his lips. Grinning, he gave his attention to his belongings as they came in the door.
. . . . .
Later that afternoon, they sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen munching pizza and drinking sodas. They had both put in a lot of work getting Blaine's stuff sorted between his two rooms and the master bedroom. Kurt had taken over his wardrobe and got all of it organized and put away. Blaine had started in his music room and was satisfied with the progress he'd made so far.
"It feels like it should be later," Kurt mused.
"I know. I'm tired already. I must be getting lazy in my old age," Blaine said, taking a long draw on his cola. He needed the caffeine if he was going to get anything else done today.
"Yeah you are," Kurt teased.
"Hey, you can't say anything. You're older than me by a week, Mr. Hummel," Blaine stated.
"Shut up," Kurt said.
"So that means you'll turn thirty before me, and forty. Wow, Kurt. You're going to age faster than me," he laughed.
Kurt smacked his arm. "Knock it off before I make it so you stop aging all together."
"Touchy, touchy, old man," Blaine pushed. A piece of pepperoni hit the side of his head with a wet slap. "Hey now, that wasn't necessary!"
"Death by pepperoni!" Kurt cried and threw another piece.
Blaine retaliated with a piece of sausage and they broke into a food fight, laughing and flinging bits of pizza at each other.
The doorbell broke them apart and Kurt grabbed his napkin and wiped at his face.
"If this pizza sauce doesn't come off my shirt, I'm going to get revenge. Preferably while you are asleep and helpless," Kurt giggled as he made his way to the door.
Opening the door, Kurt dropped his napkin in shock. His ex, Adam, was there on one knee, holding out a black jewelry box, a platinum band glittering in the light.
"Kurt, I made the biggest mistake of my life when I left you," Adam said, his British accent thick with emotion. "Please forgive me and do me the honor of being my husband."
Kurt stared at him as the pizza sauce stain set permanently in his favorite weekend shirt.
. . . . .
If you know my writing at all, you know I do love a good cliffhanger. Love to all my readers and reviewers. I read each review and treasure them like the gifts they are.