Kurt and Blaine love watching each other sleep. ~1100 words, PG, sp-oiler free.
There aren’t a lot of mornings when Kurt’s awake before Blaine. Blaine has always been an early riser, thanks to his meticulous hair routine and his love of actually preparing breakfast instead of eating the first thing in sight like Kurt tends to do, so he’s usually up for an hour or so before Kurt can finally force himself out of bed.
For once, though, Blaine’s ended up sleeping late, allowing Kurt to treat himself to the wonderful view of what his fiance looks like while he’s asleep. His head is pillowed on Kurt’s collarbone and one of his arms is flung over Kurt’s torso, and he looks so young and serene that Kurt doesn’t want to breathe too deeply for fear of waking him up. Blaine’s calmer than usual this way, not as fidgety as he can get when he’s awake, but his face still exudes a lively energy that’s just so innately Blaine that it ensnares Kurt to the point where he simply has to reach out and touch.
Kurt starts running his fingers lightly over Blaine’s strong jawline, feeling the scratchy stubble that pops up when Blaine goes longer than about eighteen hours without shaving before moving his hand upward to Blaine’s hair. He smiles at the softness of Blaine’s thankfully ungelled curls, twirling them in his fingers before digging down to the roots of Blaine’s hair to rub his scalp. His other hand starts massaging Blaine’s back in the same rhythm, and he soon loses himself in the feel of Blaine’s warm body against his.
NOTHING BETTER THAN SHOWERING AND PUTTING ON A BIG TSHIRT AND GETTING INTO BED WITH CLEAN SHEETS LITERALLY NOTHING DON’T FIGHT ME ON THIS
anonymous prompted: I’m sure this has already been prompted a million times but after last night’s episode all I can think about is Blaine’s weight gain NOT being due to the freshman fifteen, but due to Kurt knocking him up during their intensely hot make up sex, and the clinic calling Blaine to tell him that whilst he doesn’t have any STDs, he is pregnant uwu I would love you forever if you wrote this fic c:
The mirror lies. It has to. Blaine stares forlornly into it, a hand cupped over the distended curve of his belly. His jeans are hung low, just under the dip of the V of his hips, unbuttoned because—god, because he can’t even button them. These jeans hadn’t necessarily been his tightest, but they also hadn’t been his loosest, and the last time he’d worn them he’d had no problem cinching them up.
“There’s no way this is just the freshman fifteen,” Blaine says, almost inaudible. He knows he’s been eating more than usual lately to curb the rise of unwanted, sour emotions (and he even seems to be more emotional than usual, thinking back to the way he’d teared up—for no reason—during one of the Star Wars fics he was reading to Sam), but it’s only been a few weeks since he began and this much weight gain seems almost impossible.