Chapter Text
Apocalypse Now (Apocalypse Later) :
So yeah, Blaine’s a waiter.
The government takes care of the zombie thing, the world recovers and rebounds, and people return to normal. Sure, people like Blaine, the heroes that fought bravely, the ones that really made a difference in the lives of the people around them — they’re honored and revered and there’s an international outpouring of gratitude.
For like a month.
But people are fickle creatures and eventually, those brave heroes are forgotten in lieu of Survivor: Season 130. No one needs resistance leaders fighting a zombie army once there’s no zombie army.
But the world needs waiters.
:
“How was work?” Kurt asks hopefully when Blaine walks through the front door.
He shrugs and tries to put on a happy face. “I dropped a plate of lasagna on someone’s shoe and a baby pooped on the floor.”
Kurt looks like he’s about to laugh but he knows it’s probably not the best idea at this exact moment. “Come here,” he says quietly, making room on the couch. “Lie down and I’ll give you a back rub.”
Blaine gives him a crooked smile. “Thanks.”
He’s bone tired, though, and he’s asleep on the couch two minutes into the massage. He’s not sure how Kurt managed it but the next time Blaine opens his eyes, he’s in their bed with Kurt nestled into his side.
Some things haven’t changed, thankfully.
:
Blaine has a whole weekend off, a rare privilege for a server. Kurt decides to make the most of it. He starts off with breakfast in bed. As he sets the tray down on the bed, Blaine looks up at him through bleary eyes and smiles.
“You made breakfast,” he says. Nostalgia washes over him.
Kurt smiles back. “It’s no canned Spaghetti-Os but I suppose it’ll do,” he teases.
It looks amazing, French Toast with fresh fruit and hot coffee and bacon.
But sometimes Blaine misses the lukewarm Spaghetti-Os.
:
Kurt rents some of Blaine’s favorite movies, the predictable old-school superhero ones back from way before the zombie attack. Kurt hates those type of movies but when Blaine sits on the couch and Kurt lies his head in Blaine’s lap, he looks happy and comfortable and content. It tugs at something in Blaine’s chest. Without those zombies, Blaine would never have this, he’d never have Kurt. It feels weird to be thankful for the zombie attack but it’s not the first time he’s had that thought.
:
By supper time, Blaine gets antsy. He’s not used to spending the whole day indoors with nothing to do. Being alone with Kurt is pretty much his favorite thing in the world but for some reason, he’s tense and fidgety. He can’t escape the feeling of being useless, unimportant. The world doesn’t need him anymore and try as he might, French Toast and superhero movies can’t change it.
Kurt watches him carefully over the table. “So I was thinking,” he starts. “Maybe we should redecorate.”
“Oh?” Blaine says. “Sounds good.”
“Really?” he asks. “Good, I think it’ll be fun. I think we’ll have fun.”
Blaine raises his eyebrows. “We?”
“Obviously, Blaine,” he says with an eye roll. “I can’t do this type of the thing on my own.”
He gives Kurt a confused look because it’s exactly the type of thing he does on his own. He’s redecorated the house twice already, actually, and never seemed to have a bit of trouble doing it alone. Off the top of his head, Blaine can’t even think of a single thing Kurt needed from him.
“Okay,” Blaine says slowly. “If that’s what you want.”
Kurt gives him an excited look. “Perfect. Let’s start tomorrow.”
Blaine can’t help but smile. Kurt’s enthusiasm is contagious and yeah, the more he thinks about it, maybe it could be fun. They could get a new bedspread and a better couch and some stainless steel kitchen appliances —
“Yeah,” he tells Kurt, kicking up his smile. “Let’s start tomorrow.
For some reason, Kurt looks like he accomplished something monumental.
:
He practically wakes Kurt up at dawn. Kurt is no morning person but he takes one look at Blaine’s hopeful expression and climbs out of bed before Blaine even has to try bribing him with coffee or sexual favors.
“Look at these sheets,” he tells Kurt an hour later, eyes lit up. They’re navy and gray and kind of remind him of the blankets back in their old place, the sheets Kurt slept on during his very first night at camp the day Blaine rescued him.
Kurt glances over from where he’s comparing some pillows and looks surprised. “Oh, you want new sheets?” he says.
“Don’t you?” Blaine asks. He kind of thought that was the point of redecorating.
“I just thought —” he starts before shaking his head and giving Blaine a smile. “I mean, yes. Of course we can get new sheets.”
“Okay,” Blaine says hesitantly. “You’re sure?”
“Definitely,” he answers. “New sheets.”
Blaine watches him cautiously for a moment. “And there’s a matching comforter. And shams.”
Kurt gives him that same weird smile. “Definitely. New shams.”
Blaine shrugs it off and heads to the cash register, awesome new bedroom in tow.
:
They head to a furniture store next. Kurt immediately zones in on some oddly shaped foreign thing that doesn’t even look like a couch but Blaine’s eyes are drawn to a huge yellow couch in the back. It looks comfortable and happy and bright. It makes Blaine think of sunshine and possibility and new beginnings.
“This one,” Kurt says as he walks up to Blaine. He manages to keep most of the skepticism out of his voice but just barely. “This one?”
“Yes,” Blaine answers brightly. “It’s perfect.”
“It’s yellow.”
“It’s yellow and it’s perfect,” he says. “It makes me think of sunshine.”
Kurt takes a deep breath and gives Blaine a fond smile. “Sunshine it is, then.”
:
It’s an appliance store after that where Kurt lets him pick stainless steel over the sleek black things he obviously wants.
Then it’s flooring where Kurt lets him choose a more practical hardwood flooring over the artsy natural stone he’s been eying.
It’s kind of exhilarating, making decisions again. The closest he’s come to decision-making since the zombie days was the one time at the restaurant when one of his customers asked if she should get the chicken or the steak.
He didn’t realize how badly he wanted that, didn’t realize just how much it would make him feel valuable and important and needed.
And then he realizes he’s been making decisions all day. Like, all of them, actually. He even chose their appetizer at lunch.
Blaine glances towards the other end of the aisle where Kurt’s running his hands over the curtains Blaine chose for them. He’s tugging at the material and holding it up to the light, a pained look on his face. He scrunches his nose in distaste before he feels Blaine’s eyes on him. His disdain fades immediately into a bright smile as he places the curtains back in the cart.
And oh. So that’s what this is about.
He wants to be insulted that Kurt’s patronizing him and arranging this elaborate plan but he can’t. It’s sweet and thoughtful and so very, very Kurt.
:
“This one,” he tells Kurt at the paint store as he holds up a color sample. It’s god-awful. “I like this color.”
Kurt blinks. “I—”
“I really like it,” Blaine continues. “It’ll go great with our yellow couch.” It’s god-awful and no it won’t.
Kurt struggles to find words. “It’s puce.”
“It is,” Blaine says. “It’s called Pleasantly Puce, actually.”
Kurt blinks some more. “I—”
He waits patiently.
Kurt takes a deep breath and looks like he’s about to cave when he shakes his head and lets out an annoyed sigh. “No. We’re not buying paint called Pleasantly Puce, Blaine. Not in my house.”
Blaine smiles. “Our house?”
“Our house, whatever,” he says with an arched eyebrow. “Nothing puce is walking through that front door.”
Blaine laughs. “You pick then.”
He eyes him warily. “Really?”
“Really,” he says. “You didn’t have to do all of this but — thank you.”
Kurt’s quiet for a moment before he takes a few steps into Blaine’s personal space and drapes his arms over Blaine’s shoulders, tugging him close. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” he whispers before leaning in for a kiss. “You make me happy. That’s never changed.”
:
Blaine doesn’t get home until almost three in the morning after his next shift. He’s surprised to see Kurt still awake, watching TV and flipping through a magazine on their big yellow couch.
“You’re awake?” he says as he makes his way over to flop down next to him.
“Hm?” Kurt asks, distracted. “Oh, I don’t sleep well when you’re not here. So I just wait.”
He says it casually like it’s no big deal, like it’s common knowledge. He says it like nothing’s ever changed for him since that first night they met, the night he climbed on the floor just to be close to Blaine.
And maybe that’s how it is for Kurt, maybe nothing has changed for him since then. Maybe Kurt still needs him like that, even now, even though maybe the world doesn’t need him anymore.
Blaine swallows thickly.
He so doesn’t care what the world needs anymore. Kurt needs him, even just to sleep.
Some things really haven’t changed.