Word Count: 3, 704
Summary: Established relationship. The morning of a snow day, Kurt is grumpy and Blaine just wants to cuddle
Knuckles curved and poised just before the door paused when the familiar buzzing sounded in the pocket of Kurt’s blazer. Lips pursed in irritation, he dropped his hand from where it nearly rested against Blaine’s dorm door and extracted the cell phone from his pocket.
FROM: DALTON ACADEMY
SUBJ: SCHOOL CLOSING
MSG: Due to inclement weather, all classes have been cancelled.
Thurs, Feb 3 6:57AM
The thin line of Kurt’s lips tightened further as he read the message on his phone before he thrust it back into his pocket without any finesse. Holding back a litany of curses and swears, he rapped his knuckles against the door three times before he finally heard the muffled “come in” from the other side.
Kurt opened the door to reveal Blaine slowly moving around his side of the dorm, shifting his blazer on and twisting his feet around in his shoes as though trying to put them on without untying them from the day before. He looked up at Kurt with a sleepy smile and a lazy wave of his hand.
“I can’t believe Dalton,” Kurt said in way of greeting as he shut the door behind him with a bit more force than necessary.
Blaine winced with the noise. “Well, good morning, sunshine,” he commented teasingly with a questioning glance.
“Let me guess, you haven’t switched your phone from silent yet, have you?” Kurt asked, a shade of fondness mixing lightly with his previous annoyance. Blaine shook his head as Kurt sighed long sufferingly as he crossed his arms and stuck his hip out in his best bitch pose. “We have a snow day.”
“Oh, thank God,” Blaine exclaimed, his voice rough with sleep. Without another word, he shrugged the blazer off his shoulders and tossed it onto the back of his desk chair before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom.
Kurt huffed another sigh with the air hissing through his teeth. He lowered himself impatiently into Blaine’s roommate’s vacant desk chair, leaning back with stiffly crossed arms and legs.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for days off, but seriously? They don’t tell us until nearly seven o’clock in the morning after I’ve already been up for an hour getting ready and fixing my hair. I could have been using this time to sleep,” Kurt complained, staring at the closed bathroom door. Beyond it, he could hear the faucet running and moments later, Blaine reappeared with a mop of damp curls.
“They can’t make the call until seven. Some rule, I think,” he shrugged, running a hand through his newly wet hair. He answered Kurt’s raised eyebrows with the simple explanation of, “I’m going back to bed and hair gel is uncomfortable to sleep with.” He paused, chewing his lip, before adding, “And it dirties my sheets.”
“What time did you end up going to sleep, anyway?” Kurt questioned, noting how the skin around Blaine’s eyes looked bruised and swollen with sleep.
“Four thirty? Five?” Blaine answered off-handedly. “I needed to finish my paper analysis of Titus Andronicus.” He gestured to the desk across the room from where Kurt was sitting to where a rather impressive stack of papers was resting.
Sympathy cut through Kurt’s irritation with Dalton as he smiled at his sleepy boyfriend.
“Well, at least it’s done now,” he offered in what he hoped was a conciliatory manner. However, he was finding himself rather distracted by Blaine’s slim piano-player fingers carefully untying the standard red and navy tie around his neck.
“So, um,” he started with a shake of his head to clear his mind of the sudden, mildly inappropriate thoughts. Quickly, he cast about for a new topic. “Didn’t Josiah have that paper to do, too?” he asked, gesturing to Blaine’s roommate’s unmade and empty bed.
“Yes,” Blaine paused from his actions of kicking off his shoes. “He went to the library last night to work on it. I guess he found somewhere else to sleep.” He shrugged off the last statement without much concern as though someone else’s sleeping methods were far beyond his preoccupations at that time.
“Ah, sleep!” were the last words Kurt could hear coherently before Blaine tipped himself forward and fell face first onto the bed. His limps wrapped themselves in the tangle of sheets with one socked foot hanging off the edge slightly. The pillow was privy to a few moans and grateful sighs before Blaine turned his head to speak clearly to Kurt through lowered lashes.
“I’m so tired, my hair hurts. It actually hurts,” he stressed, drawing out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
“Oh no,” Kurt started dryly, “not the curls.”
He barely even flinched as a pillow nearly smacked him in its flight from Blaine’s hand. He just grabbed the corner of the pillow and, moving across the room to the edge of Blaine’s bed, smacked his boyfriend on the backside with it. Blaine made another noise into his remaining pillow that sounded too tired to really be any threatening.
“You cannot seriously be considering sleeping in your Dalton uniform,” Kurt said, disbelief and semi-mock-disdain coloring his words.
“I took the blazer off,” Blaine responded in way of an excuse. He lazily gestured with his toe at his chair where the blazer still rested.
“Your shirt is going to wrinkle,” Kurt chided, hands resting on his hips.
Beneath his annoyance, Kurt knew he should count himself as lucky. By this point, most people would have snapped at him or, at the very best, just ignored his comments. But Blaine instead rose himself to a sitting position, further mussing up his sheets, with a faint smile as he carefully unbuttoned his shirt.
Kurt watched once again with acute senses as, inch by inch, a broad expanse of smooth, tanned skin exposed itself with each flick of a button. Instead of dismissing Kurt’s growing blush, Blaine smirked idly and tossed the shirt to join the blazer with a bit more grace than necessary. Bare-chested and leaning back on his elbows, he raised a single thick eyebrow in a manner very reminiscent of Kurt’s own expression.
In an attempt to keep his blush at bay, Kurt rolled his eyes as his signature eyebrow raise was currently being used to mock him. He moved forward minutely so that his kneecaps made firm contact on the edge of Blaine’s mattress, inches away from Blaine’s still Dalton-uniform-clad leg.
“You are such a guy sometimes. I swear, are you sure you’re not straight?”
At Kurt’s words, Blaine pulled himself closer to the center of the bed and shifted his weight onto his knees so that he appeared directly across from Kurt. His position on the bed gave him a rare few inches on Kurt who found himself angling his head upwards slightly to peer into his boyfriend’s hazel gaze.
Tugging the tie still wrapped around Kurt’s neck, Blaine pulled him up the small distance between them to capture his lips in a full kiss.
Before Kurt’s hands could even settle firmly on Blaine’s shoulders where they had risen in response to his touch, Blaine pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against Kurt’s.
Kurt felt another lazy kiss pressed to his cheek before Blaine resumed his resting position lying on the bed. He reached out and clasped Kurt’s hand in his own, running his thumb over the ridges of Kurt’s knuckles with an exhausted sigh.
“I’m sorry you’re so tired,” Kurt broke against the silence. Blaine shrugged, the motion swinging Kurt’s hand into a slight pull. “If Dalton had come to the logical conclusion that it is impossible for any of the teachers to drive to school last night, then you wouldn’t be quite so tired now.” His voice solidified away from sleepy whispers and became full-fledged irritation once more. “I mean, honestly, the weather channel has been saying we were going to get a foot of snow for days now. Days, Blaine.”
He shook Blaine’s hand in his own to emphasize his point and glanced over at the window. Where the navy curtains had parted a few inches in the middle, Kurt could see small snowflakes passing each other furiously in their race to the ground.
Before he could say anything else, Blaine’s voice cut across any further ranting.
“Sweetheart, darling, light of my life,” he began verbosely, tugging at their entwined fingers. “Stop talking and come sleep with me.”
Once more with Blaine’s words, Kurt could feel some of the vestiges of his annoyance ebb away in favor of the small smile forming on his face.
“And what do you propose I wear? Unlike you, I don’t fancy the idea of sleeping in uniform,” he responded, joking lightly at Blaine’s intimate suggestion to stave off his blush.
“You’re such a snob sometimes,” Blaine muttered with a smile of his own before gesturing to the dresser near his bed. “Anyway, bottom shelf.”
Kurt nodded and made to move towards the set of the drawers, but Blaine did not relax his hold on Kurt’s hand. Kurt looked down at their fingers, his own longer and pinker against Blaine’s unrelenting grasp. He began to think that maybe he could get over his frustrations with Dalton if it meant Blaine would hold his hand like this.
“You know, you need to let go of me so I can change,” Kurt explained as though talking to a child, the corners of his mouth tugging further upwards into a larger grin.
“Fine,” Blaine agreed with a slow nod of his head, “but come closer first.”
Kurt fought the silly urge to bit his lip in anticipation as he inched closer to his boyfriend and watched as Blaine brought their hands up to his mouth to land a single, insistent kiss against Kurt’s skin.
“And why, pray tell, did I need to move closer for that?” Kurt asked as tingles and shivers ran the length of his arm and traveled warmly down his spine. He moved his hand from near Blaine’s mouth and stroked his cheek with his index finger.
Blaine shut his eyes and leaned into the gentle touch. “Because I’m too tired to lift my head from the pillow and I really wanted to kiss your hand,” he answered through his sleepy haze, turning his head to catch Kurt’s fingertip in another soft kiss.
Reluctantly, Kurt stepped away from the bed and the warmth of Blaine’s skin to the dresser. He extracted plaid pajama bottoms and a matching blue sleep shirt from the bottom drawer and slipped into the bathroom to change.
In the mirror above the sink, he caught a glimpse of his expression and was not surprised to see it looked nearly as tired as Blaine’s or the red tinge that lingered on the curves of his cheeks. With a shake of his head, he averted his attentions to changing his clothes and quickly stripped.
Despite the privacy of the bathroom, he still glanced over at the shut door before bringing Blaine’s sleep shirt to his face and inhaling deeply the rich scent of his soap and laundry detergent. It must not have been worn since Blaine had brought it back from Christmas break because it smelled like his sister’s spiced dishes.
He pulled the shirt over his head and let the fabric settle loosely around his stomach, the cotton brushing gently against his skin. Careful not to knock his clothes onto the floor where they rested precariously on the ledge of the sink, Kurt slid his legs through the flannel of the pajama bottoms, the elastic waistline stretched across his torso.
Barely an inch of ankle appeared below the hem of the pants leg and Kurt could see his ankle bones softened by his white socks. The image brought to mind the mental thought of Blaine in Kurt’s pajama bottoms. As he folded his now discarded uniform, he pictured Blaine in dark pinstripes, waistline low on his hips, deeply creased cloth around his ankles with the leftover fabric folded over his heel and hiding his feet from view.
Smile firm in place, Kurt exited the tiny bathroom to find Blaine sleeping soundly. The lines of his smile deepened as he quietly closed the door behind him, careful not to wake his boyfriend. He placed his folded clothes on the seat of Blaine’s chair and quietly padded across the wooden floor to edge closer to Blaine.
With a shake of his head, he tugged the sheets away from the tangle of Blaine’s legs and pulled the crimson comforter from the foot of the bed. Hand bunched around the sheet and comforter, Kurt slid into the empty space beside Blaine and lowered the blankets over both their lying forms.
If Blaine acknowledged the dip in the bed or Kurt’s body warmth beside him or the sudden pressure against his arm, his face did not register his thoughts.
Kurt, sandwiched between the blankets and the sheets, pressed his heels and elbows into the mattress to shift his body closer to Blaine. The pliable skin of Blaine’s rounded shoulder nudged against the tip of his nose as he turned towards the solidness of his boyfriend’s sleeping form and found himself facing a dusting of arm hair, thinner and lighter above Blaine’s forearm.
He allowed a grin to curve on lips with his face still connected to Blaine’s bare shoulder, teeth brushing against olive skin. Tucking one foot between Blaine’s ankles, he lowered his head onto the pillow, his arms folded at the wrist on his chest as he leaned into Blaine’s body, breathing in his warmth.
His last thoughts before finally drifting off were that, yes, perhaps he could forgive Dalton for not sending the message until that morning.
The all-too familiar sound of his cell phone vibrating against a hard surface broke Kurt from his dreamless sleep. During his nap, he had burrowed closer to Blaine, his head resting against the older boy’s bicep and his face pressed against the side of his chest. He groaned into the warm skin, pushing further and feeling the contours of Blaine’s ribs against his forehead as he tried to pretend his phone had not just woke him up.
The phone vibrated again, signaling a second text message, and Kurt finally realized there was no avoiding the inevitable. Withdrawing his hand from where it rested on his stomach beneath the comforter, he reached over Blaine’s stirring form to grab his phone from the nightstand.
He shifted his head to rest closer on Blaine’s shoulder and opened his phone, the backlight shining white against Blaine’s chest.
FROM: Wes Ng
Warblers rehearsal will still be held at 4PM.
FROM: Wes Ng
Seriously, guys. I mean it.
“Merde,” Kurt quietly swore, not for the first time that day. He placed the phone back on the nightstand, careful not to slam it down since it wasn’t technically the phone’s fault that Wes was inconsiderate to people’s sleeping patterns.
Beneath him, Blaine stirred again and Kurt could feel the tension in his chest as he yawned deeply.
Kurt interrupted his sleep-induced confusion with a terse explanation. “We still have rehearsal tonight.”
“Oh,” he paused. Kurt adjusted so that he faced Blaine. “What time is it?”
“Four, like usual.” He shrugged awkwardly as one shoulder was snug between the pillow, Blaine’s body, and the mattress.
“No,” Blaine shook his head, curls finally dry and shaking with the motion. “I mean, what time is it now?”
“Oh.” Again, Kurt stretched across Blaine’s broad chest to press random buttons on his phone before the backlight revealed the time. “11:14.”
Once he placed his cell phone back on the nightstand, he tried to move his arm back to his side and adjust his body so that he was no longer draped over Blaine’s form, but Blaine pressed a firm hand on Kurt’s elbow to keep him from moving. Kurt moved his gaze to his boyfriend’s face and peered into the Blaine’s eyes, dark with sleep.
“Good,” Blaine smiled drowsily, dragging his hand along the curves and lines of Kurt’s arm and shoulder before resting it on the back of the younger boy’s neck. “So I can still kiss you good morning.”
The pressure on Kurt’s neck was absolutely unnecessary as Kurt was eager to close the distance between them. The softness of Blaine’s lips contrasted with the roughness of his calloused fingers tangled in Kurt’s hair caused him to shiver delightfully. He could feel Blaine smile under their touch and nipped Kurt’s bottom lip gently before falling back on the pillow and breaking the kiss.
“Sleep well?” he asked, his fingers still brushing the downy hair at the nape of his neck.
His arm no longer pinned down by Blaine, Kurt moved his hand to trace along the columns of Blaine’s neck and the sharp angle of his collarbone.
“Yes,” he relented before expelling a very put-upon sigh, “until I was so rudely woken up.”
He rolled his eyes in the direction of his phone. In that moment, he understood why Blaine kept his phone on silent while he slept. Not that he’d ever admit that, of course.
Under the pads of his fingers, Kurt could feel the deep vibrations of Blaine’s laughter as well as hear the rough edges given to it with tiredness.
“What?” Kurt demanded to know, his eyes narrowing as he thought Blaine was making fun of him.
“You’re cute when you first wake up,” he complimented in way of explanation.
He let out another lazy peal of laughter, his curls bouncing gently with the subtle movement. Kurt’s fingers tickled their way up from Blaine’s neck along the side of his face to run his fingers through the curls a few times before tugging lightly.
Kurt’s half-attempt at retribution fell flat as Blaine chuckled deeper. Blaine’s hand tapped a few times against the vertebrae of Kurt’s neck before shifting his hand to his shoulder and carefully pushing Kurt’s weight off of his side.
“Excuse me, grumpy,” he said quietly through their sleepy haze of teasing and provoking.
Kurt pulled his leg out from between Blaine’s knees and rolled onto his back, his head higher on the pillow than it had been before. From his new position, he watched the unobstructed lines of Blaine’s reaching form as he moved across the bed towards the window. One hand firm against the foot of the bed, skin contrasted against scarlet fabric, Blaine adjusted the curtains so more of the winter wonderland outside could be seen.
The sun streaming in through the window was brighter and whiter due to the thick coating of snow on every available surface outside. It washed over Blaine’s naked torso, highlighting his lean lines and the trail of dark hair disappearing into the waistline of his pants.
“Look at all the snow,” Blaine commented softly, glancing momentarily at Kurt.
Somehow, Kurt managed to pull his lingering gaze away from Blaine to watch the snow. The flakes were larger than they had been earlier that morning, nearly obscuring Kurt’s view of the spidery tops of the trees in the outskirts of Dalton’s grounds. The air was thick with glittering fluffy clumps freefalling from the gray sky.
A moment of silence passed between the two of them and Kurt imagined he could hear the soft patter of the snow landing on the ledge outside the window.
“For something that’s caused so many problems, it’s very pretty,” he nearly whispered.
Blaine rocked in his position at the end of the bed and cocked his head towards Kurt with a lethargic smile decorating his face. Slowly and stealthily, Blaine spread himself horizontally aligned to Kurt’s body. Holding himself up on his elbows and knees, he hovered over Kurt with his teeth barely showing through his smile.
“You consider this a problem?” he questioned innocently, though the spark in his eyes suggested otherwise.
“Not at all,” Kurt promised, raising his hands from where they had settled by his sides to press his palms and fingertips against Blaine’s bare chest. “You knew what I meant.”
Even as he nodded in understand, Blaine brought himself closer to Kurt. Their lips meshed together, and Blaine dipped into Kurt’s mouth, swirling their tongues in a hot and sleepy kiss.
Lips slick and swollen, they parted with hazy gazes. Kurt kissed the corner of Blaine’s mouth that appeared tantalizingly above his face and felt the twist of a smile against his touch. Blaine hummed in response and then lowered himself to lie thigh to thigh beside Kurt. He rested his head against Kurt’s chest, presumably feeling the constant thrumming of the younger boy’s heart.
Any irritation Kurt had felt at any time that morning melted away completely as Blaine’s curls tickled the underside of his chin. He tucked his head just an inch to the side to land a kiss in the dark hair. Blaine responded to resting his arms alongside Kurt’s ribcage and tightening his hold in a half-hug.
“We need to try this again one day when it’s dark out,” Kurt mused, trailing his hands up and down the length of Blaine’s spine. He grinned as he felt goose bumps erupt across the expanse of skin beneath his palm.
“Yes, dear,” Blaine murmured, his voice once again deepening into sleep.
“They’ll probably be serving lunch soon if you want to go,” Kurt reminded him, knowing that if Blaine fell asleep again, they would most likely miss any food until Warblers rehearsal.
Blaine angled his head on Kurt’s chest, twisting the fabric of Kurt’s sleep shirt to look imploringly at Kurt.
“But, baby, there’s snow outside,” he half-spoke, half-sang.
“I cannot believe you just said that,” Kurt groaned, bringing his hand up to press the heel of his hand to his forehead.
Blaine laughed drowsily, his breath hot on Kurt’s chest through the cotton.
“Just kiss me and tell me I’m adorable.”
Kurt drew the hand from his face and brought it to Blaine’s chin, bringing their lips a breadth of an inch apart.
“You’re adorable,” he whispered, his lips brushing against Blaine’s with his words.
They kissed for a final time before they both settled down once more, sharing for the moment their presence and contented silence.
Highest rating preffered: NC-17
Prompt(s) used: 1. Cuddling in bed in the morning. Kurt hasn't slept well and is groggy and a little grumpy. Blaine is half asleep and is cuddly, affectionate and a little low on the defences.
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