“Okay, so I figured I’d ask you some questions while you unpack. I cleaned out half my drawers and maybe ten percent of my closet for your stuff. This nightstand is yours and anything else we will just deal with when we get there. Sound good?”

“Sure.” Blaine was still feeling awkward after breakfast that morning. After he came back from the bathroom Kurt and Santana were smiling and joking with each other. Once he sat down everything got silent again. He tried not to let it bother him. After all, he was the outsider here. He was the one who intruded on their lives. His only comfort was that Kurt seemed to be trying hard to make him feel at home.

Blaine started with the clothes in his suitcase, putting them into the dresser. As promised, the second, fourth, and sixth drawers were empty.

“So,” Kurt said, interrupting Blaine’s thoughts, “first question: What is your full name?”

“Blaine Nikolayevich Anderson.” Blaine answered.

Kurt looked at him for a few seconds, “Explain to me how you get one Russian sounding name in the middle of two seemingly English ones.”

“My grandfather on my father’s side was from England. I’m named after him.”

“But where does the Niko- Nikola-“

“Nikolayevich? It is a patronymic,” Blaine explained, “It is the father’s first name along with an ending depending on if you are a boy or a girl. It’s Russian tradition.”

“So your father is…”

“Nikolay,” Blaine concluded, “And my mother is Sonya. You should write this down.”

“Right,” Kurt agreed, “I’m probably spelling everything wrong.”

“Does not matter. Next question.” Blaine moved on to the boxes. He needed to remember to tell his parents his new address to send him the rest of this stuff.

“When’s your birthday?” Kurt continued.

“April 14, 1995.”

“And you were born and raised in Moscow, right?”

“Yes. And I come here for college to become fancy lawyer.”

“But you don’t want to become a big, fancy lawyer, right? So what do you want to do?” Blaine walked over and sat on the bed next to Kurt.

“You will not laugh?”

“Of course not,” Kurt assured, “Unless you want to become a clown or something. Then I think I’d have to laugh and change my mind about this whole thing.”

“I want to sing.”

“Why would I laugh at that?” Kurt exclaimed, “A lot of people come here because they want to sing, or act, or something like that. I know a lot of people with that dream. I have a friend in California who’s a backup singer. And one who lives in Brooklyn and wants to be on Broadway someday. Of course I’ve never heard you sing so I can’t really tell you if you have a shot of making it or not.”

“I will sing for you one day. But today is for unpacking. Also, there should be an ‘h’ at the end of Nikolayevich.”

‘Okay, Kurt. This is it. You’ve never had another guy in your bed before. Ever. But this guy is going to be your husband, so you’re going to go in there, pretend you’re not nervous, and go to sleep.’

Kurt pushed open the door. Blaine was already there, typing away on his phone in his matching pajamas. Kurt felt underdressed in his tank top and sweatpants. He sat on what had been officially deemed ‘his side of the bed’, then he slid under the covers.

“I have work in the morning, so my alarm’s going to go off around 6.”

“I’ll probably sleep through it.”

“I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you.” Blaine put his phone down and slid under the covers next to Kurt.

“I was just emailing my father my new address. So he could send more of my stuff.” He leaned over and turned off his light so they were in complete darkness.

“Sounds good. Hey, Blaine?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think this is going to work?” He felt Blaine move closer and shift so he was facing him. He could see the outline of Blaine’s features from the lights of the city outside.

“Do you want this to work?”

“I really think I do.”

“Then yes, I think this will work.” After a moment, Blaine leaned in to kiss him. They’d done this before, but Kurt knew he’d remember every detail of it this time. Blaine’s lips were soft, yet firm as they kissed. Kurt could definitely get used to this. The kiss deepened and Blaine shifted so his body was on top of Kurt’s.

“Is this okay?”

“Do you not remember the night we met?”

“I just wanted to check. Santana is in the other room.” With that thought, Kurt reached out and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. He sent off a quick text and dropped his phone back onto the table.

“I gave her a warning. Now where were we?” Even through the darkness Blaine could see Kurt’s smile.

When 6 am came, Kurt had to fight every part of him that wanted to stay in bed. He needed this job; actually, he loved this job. But right now there was a whole lot of naked boy around him and for once, he didn’t feel the need to rush out. But this time he had to. He slid out from under Blaine’s arm and out of bed so he could go and take his shower.

When he came back fifteen minutes later, Blaine was in the same place, but he had kicked off the sheet (it was, after all, shaping up to be another hot summer’s day). As Kurt looked at Blaine lying there, his only thought was ‘The universe really doesn’t want me to go to work today’. As much as it pained him to do so, he put the lightest sheet back over Blaine. He reluctantly pulled his eyes away and turned to his closet, their closet now, to find something stylish, yet appropriate, for summer. He was sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his shoes, when two arms wrapped around his torso,

“Are you sure you cannot stay?”

“I can’t. I both love and need this job. And as much as I would like staying home and getting to know you better, I really have to go. But if you’re not doing anything around noon, you can come and have lunch with me,” Kurt finished with his shoes and stood up to leave. “I’ll text you in a few hours where to meet me okay?”

“Okay. Aren’t you going to kiss me before you go?” Kurt turned around to look at Blaine, completely wrapped in the sheet.

“Of course.”

As Kurt descended the stairs to the subway he could only think of how domestic they’d already become, and how this could definitely work.