beydc prompted “Last night I got into a fight with my husband. I told him to take what’s his and leave. He picked me up and walked straight out of the door” and lalalenii requested “
more Kurt wooing Blaine,” so I combined those ideas and created THIS *waves hands a la Vanna White*
~1300 words, PG-13 for language.
Kurt didn’t remember exactly how the fight started, honestly. He and Blaine had both been taking their stressful weeks out on each other rather than their therapists, and a snide comment from one of them had somehow turned into a screaming match with no end in sight.
“You don’t know how to be quiet in the mornings!”
“You can’t handle something being even a centimeter out of place!”
“You are so pigheaded!”
“I’m pigheaded? Pot calling kettle!”
“Why do I even put up with you?”
“Fuck if I know. But I’m done putting up with you. Just take your stuff and get out,” Blaine said coldly, turning away from Kurt.
Kurt’s numbing bubble of rage popped at that, making his stomach sink down to his toes.
Based off this picture, because it is so effing cute. ~900 words, PG with a little cursing.
Much to his surprise, Blaine really enjoyed hitting the gym with Kurt every couple of days. He suspected that part of his enjoyment came from being able to watch Kurt’s muscles stretch in various enticing ways as he went through his workout, but Blaine also did like how fulfilled and strong he felt after a good session. He may never lose the little pooch of belly he had, but he could tell he was in the best shape of his life regardless, so he wasn’t concerned.
(It helped that Kurt had drunkenly admitted to him once that he loved how comfy Blaine’s belly was as a pillow, if he was being entirely honest.)
Whatever the reasoning behind it was, Blaine was still riding an endorphin high as he and Kurt finished up their workouts one afternoon. He had been focusing more on core work and stretching that day, while Kurt had been doing some killer arm and leg routine he’d found online that apparently worked miracles, for reasons unknown to Blaine. Once he’d finished his cool-off crunches, Blaine headed off to the locker room, knowing Kurt wouldn’t be far behind.
“Hey, baby,” Blaine said cheerfully as he stepped out of the shower. “You able to break a concrete block with your hand yet?”
Kurt just groaned from his place on the bench, halfway between his gym clothes and his street clothes. “I think I’m broken.”
Because Blaine is the world’s biggest Kurt stan. ~1080 words, G, obnoxiously fluffy.
Blaine ignored the curious looks being shot at him by everyone nearby, too amped up about the concert he was currently attending to care. Let them stare - Kurt Hummel was about to take the stage for his first solo musical performance!
“Woooo!” he screamed as Kurt walked onstage, earning himself another round of strange looks. Camera flashes also went off, informing Blaine that his handmade concert t-shirt was being memorialized for the ages (or at least for Twitter).
Good, he thought, smiling. I worked hard on this shirt.