Kurt comes home from a rare Saturday work day, eager to go out on a date with his husband. But he finds Blaine acting strange, withdrawn, with odd Sharpie marks all over his skin. (2100 words)
Okay, so, I’ve been a little down on myself, and this is something I’ve been toying around with. I just recently got motivated to finish it. This is something that actually happened to me a long time ago when I started modeling, I was just way sassier back then with how I handled it xD I don’t know for sure if they do it now, but to be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised. Warning for angst, body issues, self-esteem issues, and body shaming. Mention of Sam. Kurt and Blaine still attend NYADA, but Kurt works at Vogue.
“Hey, honey! I’m home!” Kurt announces while he struggles with
full hands to unlock the door to the loft. He’s relieved to finally be home. He
hates working on Saturdays. Saturdays and Sundays are the only days he and
Blaine get to spend 100% alone with each other. They turn off their phones,
stay in bed all day, ignore the occasional knocks on the door from friends who
can’t take a hint. Kurt loves his job at Vogue.
He loves his boss, Isabelle. But Saturdays are reserved for him and his husband.
In order to win my heart, you have to have an accent, specifically a German accent, and tall, with stunning eyes, with interesting marks on your skin, speaking of skin, it has to be blue, blue skin and a tail, oh, and you have to go by the name “Kurt Wagner”…
Summary: It’s the morning after their wedding, and Kurt and Blaine are still marveling over the fact that they’re actually married.
A/N: My otp’s getting married that’s all.
The very moment Kurt opened his eyes he could instantly feel it. The way his life had changed, yet remained the exact same. How very different he felt, but how very much the same as always. He was now a married man.
And, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at 23 And I’m thinking ‘bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways Maybe just the touch of a hand Well, me I fall in love with you every single day And I just wanna tell you I am
If this is what Blaine will wake up to for the rest of his life, everything he’s heard about married sex is a lie. Then again, no one with anything to say about married sex has been married to Kurt Hummel.
(Anon prompted: “Blaine asks Kurt to leave his ring on when they’re being intimate” and this is where it went.)
This time yesterday, Blaine was lying in bed in his apartment, his new-but-not-new boyfriend lying next to him, rousing him awake because “Blaine, baby, get up,
Santana and Britt are getting married, we have to get ready, we have to
pick up your mom, we have to drive to Indiana…” And Blaine had
grumbled, pouted, laid on top of Kurt to keep him in bed for as long as
possible, because then Blaine wouldn’t have to face the possibility that
he might’ve dreamt their reunion after all.
Because Kurt and
Blaine probably use every chance they get to call each other “husband” uwu
Blaine touches his nose to Kurt’s back, between his
shoulder-blades where the ridges of his spine become valleys. “Kurt…?” he
whispers. He can feel Kurt’s breathing, up and down, as their fingers knot
together underneath the sheets, Blaine’s arm draped warmly like a blanket over
Kurt’s side. There’s silvery moonlight in his hair, slick as water, from the
streaks slanting through the blinds.
Face half-buried in the pillowcase, Kurt mumbles, eyes
closed, into the fabric, “Wha’?”