Kurt handed Blaine a toothbrush, talking around his own. “Here – an extra.”

“Are you saying I have morning breath?”

“Clearly, I haven’t cared.” Kurt spit into the sink and rinsed his brush. “And if you want, I have some track pants in that bottom drawer over there. T-shirts are in the drawer above.”

“Ah, no sense doing the walk of shame…”

“Hey now. We’ve had…” Kurt calculated as he dried his mouth on a towel. “…as I see it, we’ve had five dates already. No shame.”

Blaine talked around his sudsy toothbrush. “Five? How do you figure?”

“The blind date at the fire, which you were only half conscious for, so you still owe me…”

“Of course.” Spit. Rinse. Stand awkwardly with the toothbrush. Take it with or leave it for another time?

Kurt grabbed it and stuck it in the holder with his. “Then, lunch with Mom, our lunch alone where you stole my food and learned how to eat a proper milk shake.”

“I still say milkshakes should be sucked. With a straw.”

“You said it was heaven.”

“I said peaches were heaven.”

Kurt huffed and continued his countdown. “Then we returned to the scene of the first date for damage assessment…”

“Where I saved your ass from falling through from the second floor when I told you not to go near those stairs. So. I owe you nothing.”

“My bump hat makes me deaf.”

“Your bump hat makes you adorable. And almost crippled.”

“I only cracked one floor board.”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

“Yes. And the fifth date, of course, was last night. So. We’re not floozies. Just…” Kurt met Blaine’s gaze in the mirror and bit his bottom lip. They were dressed only in waist-wrapped towels and Blaine still had a little drip of toothpaste on the corner of his lip which Kurt leaned down to clean with his tongue. “…we’re just minty fresh and have combustible chemistry together, that’s all.”

***

Blaine [07-18-23 7:42]: Hey. I need help. I’m supposed to meet a hot guy at this meeting, but there aren’t any empty seats near anyone. Like he promised.

Kurt [07-18-23 19:42]: He tells me he tried, but since The Chief couldn’t bother to be on time, someone else sat in the saved seat.

Blaine [07-18-23 7:43]: You tell him The Chief with the capital C has responsibilities that don’t answer to a clock.

Kurt [07-18-23 19:43]: The hot guy with the non-empty seat is horribly sorry. And we’re at your station – how long does it take you to walk to a meeting room?

Kurt [07-18-23 19:45]: Why are we here again? Seriously Blaine, I’m so bored, my ennui is starting to revolt.

Blaine [07-18-23 7:45]: Oh sweetheart…that’s bad. Here’s a topic. Why is our speaker dressed like Popeye?

Kurt cracked a laugh and tried to cover it with a cough, only eliciting a glare from Dot. When he snuck a peek to the back of the room where Blaine was sitting, he only got the giggles like a boy in church stuck between his disapproving grandmother and the priest. In other words, like he was in hell.

He was in hell. Training hell. And really, did there really need to be training on how to use a radio? You turn it on, push the button, talk, put it away. They had this damned meeting room for 2 hours. They still had…he looked at his phone again and rolled his eyes…1 hour and 45 minutes left.

Kurt [07-18-23 19:48] I’m so filled with my revolting ennui I didn’t even notice a fashion travesty. Blaine, we’re in hell. Together, which is good, but there’s a whole room full of people who don’t want to be in hell with us, I guarantee you.

Blaine [07-18-23 7:48] Yes, but Popeye is here. I wonder if he brought Olive Oyl.

Kurt [07-18-23 19:49] I’m only playing along if he brought Wimpy. I want a burger.

Blaine [07-18-23 7:50] I’ll buy you a burger after the meeting. You can gladly pay me Thursday.

Kurt [07-18-23 19:52] Do you know how turned on I am right now that you know Popeye? Although I am concerned you’re looking for the girl.

Blaine [07-18-23 7:53] My brother did a great Olive Oyl impersonation. It’s a sentimental search.

Kurt [07-18-23 19:53] I bet we could make this meeting more interesting if your Bluto kidnapped my Olive Oyl.

Blaine [07-18-23 7:55] I thought we were looking for Wimpy. And burgers. And how did you just make Popeye sound suggestive?

Kurt [07-18-23 19:56] Focus, Blaine. We have 90 minutes left and we’re planning 1930 cartoon capers in real life. This won’t end well.

Blaine [07-18-23 7:57]: How’s this? What happened to the Pope when he went to Mount Olive?

Kurt [07-18-23 19:59]: Okay, now you’re simply frightening me. What happened?

Blaine [07-18-23 8:01]: Popeye almost killed him!

Kurt had to pause to look at Blaine in the back of the room, who was naturally gazing all over the place except within Kurt’s line of vision. The shithead.

Kurt [07-18-23 20:03]: I think I’m beginning to understand Popeye’s desire to kill. Maybe we should be adults now? No more Olive Oyl. Dear god please, no more puns.

Blaine [07-18-23 7:58] What about burgers?

If there was going to be a quiz at the end of the evening, Kurt was going to fail. Blaine finally was getting his turn to speak and Kurt quickly forgot the ridiculous texting rampage in favor of drooling and day dreaming about running his tongue under the neckline of Blaine’s t-shirt. And remembering how his hands that were now expressing things like cooperative community service and thank-you-for-making-me-feel-at-home were, only days before and every night since, sliding and gripping and rubbing him to such states of bliss he still wasn’t convinced he’d come down yet.

“Stop making love to the man while he’s trying to speak.”

Kurt froze as Dot whispered in his ear, but a smile curled around his lips. “Look at him, woman. How can I not?”

“Well, I’m not sure, but your subtlety needs some work.”

“He has the crowd in the palm of his hands…no one’s paying attention to me.”

“He is. He stammers every time he looks at you.”

“That’s because I’m amazing. You can hardly blame him.”

The meeting eventually adjourned and once almost everyone had left, Blaine saddled up to Kurt, slipping an arm around his waist and whispered in his ear. “Burrrrgerrrrs.”

“Mmm…you really know how to woo a guy.”

“You know it.” He backed up and waved his goodbyes to Dot. “Seriously. I’m starving and it’s late. Is anything still open?”

“Yeah, there’s a pizza joint that makes great burgers – it’s about 5 minutes from my place. “

“Let me close up my office and we’ll go?”

“Do um…do you want to just stay over again?”

“I have to be back here at 6am…”

“I don’t care if you don’t. Just don’t expect breakfast in bed.”

“Late night snack in bed?”

“Served on a platter.”

***

“I’m heading out, babe.”

Kurt stirred, feeling Blaine’s breath on his cheek and reached out a sleep-heavy hand to touch him, almost poking him in the eye in the process. Blaine kissed him anyway.

“Mmm…have a good day.” Kurt reached again and rolled onto his back, blinking his eyes open as he caught Blaine’s hand. “Oooh, I forgot you were wearing your blues today.”

“Yep. Have to give out a few citations and the paper always shows up. Is my tie okay?”

Kurt sat up and smacked his lips. Blaine looked delicious. He straightened Blaine’s tie and smoothed it down his chest anyway because any opportunity to touch a man in uniform – this man in uniform especially – was an opportunity not to be missed. “Where’s your hat and jacket? I want to see the full picture.”

Blaine brushed Kurt’s cheek with his thumb and kissed him tenderly. “In living the room. Lay back down. You’re not supposed to be awake yet.”

“I’ll go back to sleep…let me see.”

When Blaine came back in, fully suited and smiling broadly, Kurt got out of bed, naked, cold and not giving a damn. This beautiful man needed to be in his arms right now. And so he made it so, stiff jacket, pokey badges, citation bars and all. Blaine was comfortable and cozy and warm and as they embraced, as Kurt’s head rested on his shoulder and his suited arms covered Kurt’s bare back, he could only sigh in pure contentment. Their every-few-nights-and-mornings had become a steady presence now, Kurt’s apartment turning into a love den of a constantly unmade bed, quickly prepared dinners and movie marathon numb buns.

They swayed to non-existent music for a long beat, Blaine stepping back a tick, his hand buried in Kurt’s sleep mussed hair. “What was that for?” He kissed him tenderly, dotting kisses up his jaw, nuzzling back into his neck before Kurt could pull him to sit on the edge of the bed and answer.

Kurt draped the blanket over his bare lap and fingered across the stripes on the edge of one of Blaine’s jacket sleeves, looking up through his lashes. “Five stripes, huh?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not used to that, yet. No one but the chief had stripes in Findley, so I went from nothing to this...it’s weird.”

“You should take great pride in those, Chief Anderson.”

“I do. I don’t take it lightly at all.” Blaine dipped his head to catch Kurt’s gaze, still tracing across each of the stripes on his sleeve. “What’s up?”

Kurt reached up and took Blaine’s hat off and plopped it on his own head, grinning. “I know you have to go, so my timing is shit, but…” He dared himself to rest in Blaine’s gaze, finding his words in the trust he found there. “…I am just immeasurably happy…in just…what? A couple weeks? I don’t…Blaine, I don’t…do this. I’m closed off and…guarded and…careful. You’ve…” Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine’s softly for a little extra courage. “…you’ve ruined me. In the most delicious way.”

Blaine’s only reply was a whispered, “Oh god,” as he cupped Kurt’s cheek in his hand and kissed him fully, passionately, ignoring his hat as it toppled off Kurt’s head. He pulled back with a wet smack, chuckling when Kurt chased his mouth for more. “No, no…come on. Lay back down. Let me tuck you in.”

Kurt whined, but obeyed, sighing contentedly as his head sunk into the pillow and Blaine kissed his way up his body, covering the newly kissed skin with the blanket, Kurt sinking back into restfulness as he went. He knelt at the side of the bed holding Kurt’s hands, kissing his fingers as he spoke. “I am honored to be the one to make you immeasurably happy. And I don’t take that privilege lightly either.”

Kurt’s eyes were heavy, his smile lazier as Blaine spoke, but he heard it all, soaking it into his pores, letting his words lull him towards a peaceful sleep.

Blaine brushed Kurt’s rogue bangs off of his forehead and kissed his temple. “I love yo-…” He swallowed and started again. “I’d love to come back after my shift tonight…if you’ll have me.”

Kurt flickered his eyes open, smiling at Blaine’s shifting, blushing gaze. “Will you still be in full dress?”

“Would you like me to be?”

Kurt grinned. “Yes. I need to assist you in removing it.”

“That would make me immeasurably happy.” He kissed Kurt’s temple one more time and stood. “But now I have to go. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be. Have a good day.” Mulling Blaine’s words around his groggy mind, Kurt made one more plea. “And Blaine?”

Blaine stopped by the door and looked back, fitting his hat back on his head, taking Kurt’s breath away all over again. “Me too.”

Blaine’s smile was all Kurt needed to breathe blissfully and fall into the deepest of peaceful sleeps.

***

It was only a few days later when Kurt was at the C-DRT offices desperately needing to head home to tend to his real job. New demands from his department head were not matching up with the budget he’d been given and he couldn’t focus on anything else anyway. “Dot, I’m going to take off.”

“Don’t forget those comfort kits for the truck.”

“Oh shit. Yeah.” Kurt tossed his bag back on the chair and picked up the phone to call the fire station. If he was going to be there to stock the truck, he might as well pop in for a ‘hello,’ maybe a give-me-some-sanity kiss. Blaine was really good at those.

“Lima City Fire Department. This is Lieutenant Parker.”

“Is Chief Anderson in, please?”

“No, he’s stepped out to pick up his son. He should be back in about half an hour.”

“P-pardon me?”

“Picking up his son?” Lt. Parker took an audible breath and asked, “…is this Kurt?”

“Yes.”

“Shit. Um. Yeah.” While the lieutenant fumbled, Kurt sunk into his chair, sitting on his bag, his skin burning from the inside out. “I’ll tell him you called and uh…he can call you back. Soon. Like in half an hour.”

“No. Don’t. Just. No. I’ll…I’ll…be in touch.”

Kurt put the phone in its cradle and pulled out his cell phone. He hit speed dial 7, and headed out to his car, mindlessly, vacantly, a fog settling over him as the words echoed in his ear over and over again.

Picking up his son. His son. His. Son.

“Tess? It’s Kurt. I need a flight to New York. Tonight.”