OH MY GOSH THIS IS AMAZING!!! <3 <3 <3 It even has the cookies!! <3 holy smokes. (lol) So very cool.
Ohhhh, this is incredible - the gifset, and the fic.
"Okay," Santana says, pointing at Blaine, "Spill your secret, Anderson. A piano, an engagement ring, NYU and Columbia as ‘safety schools,’ where do you get all your money?"
Blaine plunks out a melody on the piano and Kurt threads an arm through his and smiles up at Santana.
"Blaine’s grandfather invented hair gel," Kurt says, a little smug, "He’s an heir to a fortune."
Santana whistles low. “Damn, Hummel. Nice one.”
They high five and Kurt preens.
"Thank you," then he stops and look at Blaine, "Not that money is the only reason I’m marrying him, of course.”
"Of course," Blaine agrees, leaning into kiss him. "It’s also my dapper charm and suave good looks."
Sam snorts, loudly, but he’s ignored as Kurt giggles and leans in for another kiss. Santana makes a noise of playful disgust and joins Rachel in the kitchen for drinks.
"Of course," Kurt says quietly, "The money doesn’t hurt. Especially when I get to flash this bad boy,” and here, he holds up his ring hand, “around to everyone on campus.”
"Wait until you see the wedding band I have picked out," Blaine says, winking and Kurt leans into him, content.
There’s a nervous fluttery feeling in Kurt’s stomach as he sits cross-legged on his bed, his laptop opening and glowing blue-white in front of him. He absently runs his hand over his shoulder, the still-sore red patch of skin underneath the thin black of his tank top.
He hasn’t connected the Skype call to Blaine yet, and his fingers hover nervously over the keys. What if he had been too rash and too impulsive? This isn’t necessarily something that he and Blaine have talked about in depth, or even explicitly, so Kurt has no idea how he’s going to react.
With a sigh, the fingers of his free hand fluttering absently over where his heart is pounding fast inside his ribcage, he clicks call and waits for Blaine to pick up.
in lieu of meta
He didn’t mean for you to be the rebound. He’s never had a rebound before, how was he supposed to know what the word meant?
He didn’t mean for you to get so invested. He isn’t used to being desired, knows what he looks like when he stands in front of a mirror, but has no idea what he’s like lit by late afternoon sunlight in a coffee shop, bashful grin and lowered eyelashes until he forgets himself and says something so mean and razorishly funny that it’s all you can do not to guffaw your chai right out your nose and into your lap.
When your hipbones bumped in your tiny kitchen, rustling up vegetable noodles, and you turned, looked, asked and answered with that look, and leaned to kiss for the first time, it felt like leaves unfurling in spring, green and young and seeking, but knowing, too, knowing what sunlight would feel like, bent on finding it.
It didn’t feel like a kiss-to-forget.
He was complicated. He was different, which to people like his parents might be a fate worse than death, but to him was something interesting. He was jazz in a world of Bach, that was all – and he would rather be an unconventional genre of music than silence any day.
Blaine Anderson, Immutability: Affliction of the Greeks ch. 14, fabfemmeboy
“Is this the famous space lube?” Blaine asked, already flipping the cap open and squeezing some on his fingers.
“I don’t think they actually use sex lube on satellites, Blaine. God, maybe that’s why the Republicans stopped funding NASA?”
actualwizardbillykaplan666 said: KURT AND BLAIEN AND DINER SHENANIGANS
"Don’t look now," Santana says, hitting the back of Blaine’s head with her towel. There’s a guy over by the door that’s been checking you out all night."
Blaine turns, sees the guy Santana is talking about, then grins, shakes his head at Santana, and then heads over towards the door. “So I hear from Santana that you’ve been checking me out all night.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow. “Of course I have, I mean, have you seen you in that uniform.”
Blaine reaches up and pulls on his collar. “I always did say you enjoyed me in a uniform. You don’t look half bad yourself.”
Kurt twirls the towel he’d been using to dry off the table tops. “Don’t I?”
They both laugh, and then Kurt leans in to kiss his fiance. “I’m glad that I was on the same shift as you for your first night. And I think they’re going to keep us on the same shift as well, considering our little duet was a huge hit.”
Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt’s waist, his other hand moving to grab the salt and pepper shakers still on the table. “I think that I’ll be able to deal with that. I mean, I’m going to have to get used to spending all of my time with you anyway, for when we get married.”
Kurt hums. “Mmm, married,” he says, leaning in to kiss Blaine again. “I like the sound of that.”
Kurt and Blaine pull away, looking to where Santana is resting her cheek on her hand and leaning against the back counter. “What?” Kurt asks.
Santana rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe that I got stuck with the lovebirds for closing.”
Blaine laughs, but pulls Kurt closer while his fiance raises an eyebrow. “Says the girl who made out with Dani all night two nights ago and I had to close all by myself.”
Santana scoffs. “We did not make out all night.”
Dani walks past her and hits her with her towel. “We actually did.”
Santana shrugs. “Oh, I guess we did.”
Kurt shakes his head, then looks back over at Blaine. “We should finish cleaning up so we can get back home. My feet are so sore, and my first class tomorrow is dance.”
"Aw," Blaine says, pressing a quick kiss to Kurt’s lips. "Tell you what, before you head off to class tomorrow, I’ll rub your feet."
Kurt’s face melts into one of complete adoration. “I loooove you,” he sings as he moves away to finish cleaning up.
"I love you toooo!" Blaine calls back and Kurt blows him a kiss.
"You both are groooooss!"
Laughing, both Kurt and Blaine turn and blow Santana a kiss. “We love you too, Santana.”
did the reaction-fic thing
all the cool kids were doing it :)
He lays him out slowly across the duvet, no-shoes-no-belt-undershirt-only, and crawls up to him clad similarly with a smile on his face. They want to kiss and touch and fuck, god Blaine wants to fuck him, wants to consummate this like they’re already married. But they’re breathy, giggly, chatty, they want to talk too, like some great episode of their reality TV flavor of the week needs deconstructing, flailing and gabbing and oh oh and remember the part when. Except it’s not a flavor of the week.
When his dad turns the corner onto the familiar road, Kurt groans.
"You okay kid?"
"No! He beat me!"
Burt glances over. “Pardon?”
"I worked so hard on that marching band choreography. Do you know how difficult it is to meet with McKinley students and Blaine not know about it? We had to work at night, in the dark, and it was perfect and took him by complete surprise. That ass.”
"Kurt, what are you talking about?"
"Dad. I know you’re taking me to my surprise proposal-"
"Wait, what? How do you know."
"Oh, please. He asked me to wear a suit? You’re driving me to Dalton," Kurt waves his hand, "Not important. I can’t believe he beat me. Oh, he’s going to pay. Oh yes. Our wedding night, yep. I’m going to do a medley of every song we ever sang together accompanied by all of our friends plus family members all the while a slideshow plays in the background. Oh yeah. He’s not winning this one.”
Blaine rolls Kurt onto his back licking filthily into his mouth, causing Kurt to groan, his hands sliding down Blaine’s bare back to rest on his ass.
"I was," Kurt mumbles between kisses, "Supposed to be. In New York. Hours ago."
"I’ll buy you a new ticket," Blaine promises, sucking Kurt’s lower lip into his mouth.
Kurt squeezes, lets his head fall back onto the pillow and closes his eyes as Blaine begins to mouth along his neck. “Seriously. I-I have work tomorrow. And school.”
"Oh, yeah, sure, ‘excuse me for being late Professor, you see, I was too busy having hot post-engagement orgasms with my fiance’ that will go over real well."
Blaine grins, then begins mapping a path down Kurt’s chest; a nibble on his collar bone, a kiss pressed right over his heart, tongue flicking a nipple and down, down, down.
"Oh, God," Kurt breathes, hand cradling the back of Blaine’s neck as he gets closer to the spot he wants him the most. "I’m never going back to New York, am I?"
"That’s the plan," Blaine promises.
"Oh, God, you suck.”
"Not yet. Gimme a minute."
Kurt’s laugh chokes off into a moan as Blaine’s lips finally close around him.