Title: Better than Dessert (One - Shot)
Word Count: ~ 1,300
Warnings: Teeny spoilers for Yes/No
Summary: Kurt shares his cheesecake.
A teeny follow-on from the Finn/Rachel/Kurt scene in Breadstix. Blaine was missing and that wasn’t right. I had this ache in my stomach watching that scene. Kurt at Breadkstix always makes me feel things for some odd reason. I just imagine his dates with Blaine and their quieter moments when it’s just the two of them but I just had this image of Blaine being with Kurt when he has his moments of despair.
Anyway, I wanted to write something short and sweet and had time during my morning train journey. Please enjoy! : )
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[FYI, for those reading, Au Pair will be updated tomorrow. I’m finally united with my own laptop then!]
Kurt watched them leave, Finn’s shoulders hunched over and tense and Rachel clinging like a limpet to his arm. Their impending talk with Carole was destined to end in tears – literally and including Rachel.
So much for a nice meal. They’d spent most of it grumbling about life and how much it so clearly hated them all.
He’d meant every word about growing up – it was spectacularly unfair. All of it.
They weren’t the first to go through it all and they certainly weren’t the last but it didn’t take the sting out of being slapped square in the face by cold, stark reality when you’d spent most of your life, to date, imagining the beauty of life - the true possibility of it all.
There were dreams of the hot lights of Broadway, unpacking boxes of every cherished thing he’d collected throughout his life and presenting it to his adorable new flat in New York City and sharing it all with a special someone.
As if on cue, Kurt jumped a little at the sudden weight pressed to his side.
“A whole cheesecake?” Blaine asked, his eyebrows raised and a smirk playing on his lips. He settled down into the booth.
“Don’t you dare judge.” Kurt scowled at his fork, carving sad faces into the soft creamy topping. “This is the one thing keeping me sane right now.”
Kurt fought back a smile as Blaine’s fingers wrapped around his own, forcing the fork to trace a smile under the already indented eyes. The entire cheesecake was beginning to look inedible but it deserved it. High calorie food shouldn’t be so delicious and tempting. Kryptonite for sad people – that’s what it was.
“Bad everything,” Kurt groaned, well aware of exactly how pathetic he sounded. “How was yours?”
It was then that Kurt chose to glance sideways, eyes finding Blaine’s with ease. They were always ready to settle him, soothing him with their depth and sincerity.
Blaine smiled. “Not bad. Not great. Mediocre at best.” He let go of Kurt’s hand, patting it gently as he release his grasp. “Definitely not bad enough to devour an entire cheesecake. So you win.”
“I don’t devour, Blaine. And you should know by now, I always win.” With a soft chuckle to himself, Kurt sighed, big and desperate. Blaine leaned in, shaking his head.
His laughter teased at his words when he spoke. “I know you well enough to know you’re never going to finish that alone so I can help,” he offered. Kurt shivered at the press of Blaine’s hip against his, the warmth of having a body close and comforting. “I never turn down desert. And if I leave you to destroy it any further it’s going to be a disaster.”
“It already is.” Clearly the pastry chef at Breadstix was sans necessary taste buds and, well, talent. “I could make better.”
Clearly amused, Blaine tucked in and Kurt watched him intently. It was a rare moment when he could just watch Blaine go about his daily life and, clearly, still marvelling at the mundane things in a relationship was a good sign. Kurt knew he could focus on the crinkles at the corner of Blaine’s eyes as he frowned out of pleasure, happily humming just how tasty it was, forever. There was a lot to be said about being allowed to stare.
Not that he did it often. Creepy people gawped and Kurt definitely didn’t allow himself to tip into that territory but Blaine was an exception.
He was the exception.
“So, Finn is still miserable and upset, which is understandable, and Rachel is still moping about NYADA as am I.”
“Remember what we said,” Blaine tried, resting his chin momentarily on Kurt’s shoulder and grinning up. Kurt felt the gesture down to his bones, the warmth of being listened to, cared for.
“I know. Positivity. It ain’t over till it’s over. I know. I remember.” He sighed, nuzzling back into Blaine’s arm, the one moving backwards and forwards with each mouthful. “It doesn’t make my heart stop hurting though.”
“Well.” Blaine hummed around the spoon in his mouth, nodding with purpose as he swallowed. “When you get your acceptance letter and you’re planning your assault on Broadway, I’ll remind you of this moment and your heart can be happy. It should be. Always.”
Kurt gawped then. Just when he’d vowed never to do so. Blaine didn’t seem phased, his words flowing naturally as if he delivered pep talks in his sleep but Kurt ached to cuddle close to him, to remember all of the wonderful parts of the past year and forget the uncertainty of the future.
Instantly, Blaine stopped, fork suspended in mid air. “What?” His eyes twinkled and, then, Kurt realised what he’d done.
“I mean, I, um, you may have a valid point.” Kurt scowled to himself, snatching up the other fork and stabbing at the soft cheese.
“No,” Blaine laughed, grabbing for Kurt’s hand, “no. You said I was right.”
“No I didn’t.”
Blaine’s arm snaked around Kurt’s waist, his chest pressing close and Kurt could feel his breath tickle at his neck. Blaine was giddy, making wild accusatory eyes right in his line of sight. “You did. I win.”
“You never win, Blaine Anderson. Just accept your lot in life.”
“Never,” Blaine giggled, taking an enormous bit of cheesecake and grinning madly as he chewed. Kurt fought it desperately but a smile eventually triumphed. He tried to suppress it but Blaine was quick and observant. “See. You know I won. You just won’t admit it to yourself. But its fine,” Blaine sighed dramatically, leaning back into the booth cushion with his hands at his belly, rubbing in circles, “I’ll be alone in my smugness.”
“Yes, you most definitely will.”
All of a sudden, the pitter patter of fingertips dotted at Kurt’s thigh and his squirmed in place, biting his lip. He couldn’t let Blaine have the upper hand. No way.
“Do I have to resort to dirty tactics to make you smile because I will. You know I will.”
Kurt hummed, attempting nonchalance as he fanned his hands and inspected each nail in turn. It was definitely time for a manicure. Cutting the silence, Blaine’s tiny growl of mock frustration was delicious and Kurt knew he was a lost cause because Blaine had his hand, fingers tangling easily and gently drawing patterns against the skin at his palm. It tickled, the shudders of pleasure travelling to the pit of his stomach and fluttering madly.
Hand holding was kryptonite to Kurt Hummel. So, it seemed, was Blaine Anderson.
Blaine chuckled, low and playful. “So you keep saying but you still come back for more.”
Turning, Kurt forced a glare but it slid away at once. Blaine was there. He’d successfully managed to pull the doom and misery away like a clever table cloth trick. The very fact that one flash of Blaine’s ever sparkly eyes was enough to make Kurt’s heart stop seemed to be enough to take the darkness away.
“Let’s get out of here,” Kurt sighed, gripping Blaine’s hand back tight.
“Where?” Blaine asked without a moment’s hesitation. This, Kurt loved. Having someone so willing to spend time with you; knowing that person wanted be close to you and actively sought out your company was still a reality that Kurt could never take for granted.
“Anywhere. A walk, perhaps?”
Blaine smiled wide, nodding. “Ok. My parents are out till late if that interests you?”
Kurt couldn’t hinder the light in his eyes. Blaine obviously noticed their added sparkle because he laughed, tugging his coat on and sliding money onto the table.
“Blaine – “
“No,” he rushed, “I’ll get it. I ate most of it anyway and you’re sad. Nobody should pay for their pity party dessert. It’s, like, a law.”
Kurt spat out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Is it now?”
“Yes,” Blaine sing-songed. He offered his arm, clearly blocking out the rest of the diners and any beady eyes. Kurt took it defiantly.
As they reached the exit, the cool air hit them quick but Blaine was swift, sliding to rest his head to Kurt’s shoulder. It was like being wrapped in a blanket and Kurt closed his eyes for a second, memorising the lovely way his body tingled in contentment.
Forget cheesecake. Blaine Anderson was better.