Chapter Text
Finn watches them going back and forth, the latest round of who-gets-what underway with a vengeance, and is suddenly glad he's never moved in with a girlfriend. And Mallory and Blaine have never even slept together.
"Mal, no! 30 minutes arguing at Target, and you still got what you wanted."
"That's because you suck at Rock-Paper-Scissors."
"Yes, I still cry about that. My point is that you should take them, because you always liked them better."
"Blaine, you're not going to California with no plates. Look, there's six place settings. Take three," she says, pulling the plates down and starting to wrap them.
"It's stupid to break the set up. Besides, there's only two mugs left."
"Man, we should have stuck Dustin with the damn dishes."
Kurt breezes through the room. "If it matters at all, I already packed the Fiestaware," he tosses out, before heading back into the bedroom.
Blaine gives Mallory a deadpan look. "He packed the Fiestaware," and she just makes a face in return.
"Of course he did. Fine. I'm keeping the Anderson-Graham commemorative dishes. You'll miss our crappy dishes the first time Kurt makes you sleep on the couch when you break a plate." She shoves the plates back into the cabinet and looks around. "What about the pans?"
Blaine just looks at her, a bit lost.
"God, you're useless in here. I'm just going to go ask Kurt," and she stomps out of the room.
Finn watches her go. "I like her. Feisty."
"Fort Wayne is not going to know what hit it - she's going to work for the Journal-Gazette," Blaine offeres.
"No way, really? We'll have to have her out to dinner - Mom'll love her. We'll take good care of her." Blaine looks at Finn, thinking about the way he watched Mallory, and feels like he has to say something.
"Look, Finn, I'm not sure that's such a good idea."
"What?" Finn looks over at him, confusion on his face. "Oh, man, not like that." He looks back at the hallway where Mallory had disappeared. "Well, I mean, maybe? But she's just a cool girl. And besides, that's just what family does."
Blaine just smiles and hopes Mallory remembers to ask Kurt about appliances.
***
Six hours later they lay exhausted in the living room, the remnants of pizza, salad, wings and beer all around them. Finn had stretched out on the floor, staring at the ceiling, and Mallory was lying on her side on the other side of the coffee table, idly picking the olives off of a piece of pizza. Kurt had slid his salad bowl onto the coffee table and settled with his head in Blaine's lap, and Blaine idly stroked his hand through Kurt's hair and gazed around the room.
"It looks so different in here."
Mallory hums and looks around. "It's strange how little it changed when we were packing up Dustin, and how different it looks now." She grimaces at Blaine, and he nods at her, a similar look on his face. Dustin had fallen in love, really fallen this time, for a boy he'd met on just another night in the bar, and by spring break he'd left their little apartment to move across town. It's been odd these last couple of months with just the two of them in the apartment, but it's also been peaceful, relaxed, and neither of them can really regret it.
Finn rubs at his belly and, three beats too late, says, "Who's Dustin?" Mallory snorts and faceplants on the carpet, Blaine looks confused, and Kurt rolls his eyes and just says, "Later, Finn."
***
Blaine eases the door closed behind him and leans against it. His eyes glitter with mischief when he says, "Your step-brother and my roommate are out there making eyes at each other."
Kurt groans, "God, don't tell me things like that just before bed." He collapses back onto the bed, rubbing his hand over his eyes.
Blaine sits next to him, snorting out a laugh. "I can't figure out who that's going to end up worse for."
"Me. There is no way it won't be worst for me." Kurt throws his arm over his head and turns his face toward Blaine, and his smile is small and bitter and just a little genuinely amused.
Blaine brushes Kurt's hair back from his face. "You look tired."
"Thank you. And I'm fine. It's just been a long day, and tomorrow will be another one."
He reaches over and runs his fingers up and down the pale skin of Kurt's forearm and then slides his fingers into his open palm. Kurt's hand is loosely curled, and it's easy to lace their fingers together; Kurt squeezes back instantly.
"How tired are you?"
Kurt smirks at him. "Not that tired. What did you have in mind?"
He kicks off his shoes and leans over to straddle Kurt on the bed. He finds his other hand and brings it up over Kurt's head, too, so he can hold both of his hands and press them into the bed. He leans down to nuzzle his nose against Kurt's and then goes to his neck to breathe him in - clean sweat, stale air-conditioning, and the hint of his shampoo.
He whispers against his ear, "I think you need to fuck me."
Kurt slides his hands from beneath Blaine's and run them down his back until they rest on his ass. "My work is never done. I have to pack up your stuff, take it home with me, then move it all over to the pod to be shipped out. And now you want sex, too?" His tone is mock aggrieved, playfully bitchy, and fully belied by the way he's starting to knead at Blaine's ass, and Blaine nips at his ear in retaliation.
"Yep."
"Last hurrah in your old bedroom?"
"Hey, after tonight this bed isn't just mine anymore; she's ours. Let's send her into storage with some good memories."
"Your tendency to anthropomorphize your furniture can only lead to trouble, you realize. What if I go shy again?"
"Less sass, more sex, please," Blaine says against his ear, and he follows it up with a nip while he grinds his hips around, down to press against Kurt's crotch and then up, so his ass pushes back against Kurt's grip.
"So bossy," Kurt gasps as Blaine sucks at his throat..
"You love it," Blaine says with one last kiss as he pushes himself back up to sitting. "Now. Let me help you out of your clothes."
"It's the least you could do, really." Kurt's hands fall back down beside his head, thrown up in gentle, weary surrender, but his eyes are on Blaine's face as he works his way down the buttons of Kurt's shirt.
***
The next morning is gloriously lazy, and Blaine lies in bed to watch the sunlight move across the bare walls of his room. Kurt wakes early, pads into the bathroom and then back, and snuggles up against his side to doze fitfully for a few more hours. Blaine loves everything about this morning - how open-ended the day feels and the way Kurt clutches at him when he shifts drowsily and turns around and around, trying to get comfortable before he settles back in pretty much the same position where he started, pillowed against Blaine's shoulder. He cranes his neck to try to catch a glimpse of the alarm clock that's now sitting on the floor of his room; they'd packed up everything but the bed and a few of his clothes, the things he'll be taking home with him and will need before they meet their moving pod out in California. It's 8:37 am on a Monday, 3 days after his college graduation, and he feels free, weightless.
Kurt draws in a deep breath and blows it back out again, his warm breath stirring the hair on Blaine's chest. "Hey," he says, his voice still rough with sleep.
"Good morning."
"What time 'sit?"
"Just a little after 8:30."
There's a pause, and then Kurt sighs. "Shit. We need to get up." He places one hand on Blaine's chest to lever himself into a seated position, but Blaine grabs at his hand and keeps him there.
"Not quite yet. Stay here with me for a minute."
Kurt collapses back onto his shoulder, and Blaine keeps his hand tucked against his heart and slides his other arm under his shoulder to wrap around him.
They're quiet for long minutes, just breathing together, and finally Kurt says, in a clearer voice, "Are you still thinking about leaving tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Once we pack up the bed I'm mostly done, but Mal couldn't get her truck moved up from Wednesday, so I'll spend another night here. It'll be good to just... be here.
"Your mother's going to be fine with that?"
Blaine shrugs. "She should be."
"It's still weird to me that they didn't want to help you move out."
Blaine just laughs. "When have they ever helped with the moves? I'm not sure they even know how. They've been in that house since I was three, and even then I'm pretty sure they paid somebody to do most of the hard stuff. It's just easier this way."
"Yeah." Kurt's quiet for a minute, and then he pushes himself up to one elbow. "Okay. Let's make the magic happen. Time to go - come on, get up."
Blaine looks at Kurt. He's wide awake now, and Blaine can see his face starting to take on some of its usual energy, his mind ticking over the list of things that need to be done. "One day I'm going to teach you how to properly spend a lazy morning in bed."
"Plenty of time for that. Now come on. It'll take me half an hour to get Finn moving." And with that, Kurt's up and off the bed, moving into the bathroom to start the shower running.
Blaine pushes himself up to sit, and stares around his empty room, and smiles.