MONDAY, JANUARY 7

KURT

I woke up that morning feeling warmer than normal. Seeing that I overheated in my sleep rather easily, I wasn't super surprised that I had woken up and was hot. I would often wake up numerous times in the night and throw off the blankets and sheets and stick my foot out into the cooler air until my body temperature would regulate and I could go back to sleep. It seemed that tonight was just another night like that as I peered over to the clock on my nightstand.

7:10am

Mondays were usually my day off, but lately I'd been waking up and being a functioning human – so I'd set my alarm to go off at 8:00 in the morning to get a start to my day, maybe do some yoga or reading, then do laundry or whatever other chores I had set aside for myself.

I flipped off the alarm and rolled onto my back and looked up at the dark ceiling. Drowsily, I reached out across my pillow and stretched my arms over my head parallel with the headboard.

Thwap.

"Ungh," a voice rustled next to me.

I jumped. It was in the first moments of morning that the dregs of my dreams faded away and I was able to distinguish the difference between my dreams and my reality. Up until this point, my brain had still been too foggy to process where reality and dreams separated.

But soon, clarity came through. The first thing that came to mind was Blaine and what happened yesterday.

Blaine.

Lunch and pie.

Blaine's mom.

Telling him everything.

Him telling me that I was beautiful.

Me trusting him with my... everything.

Blaine.

Listening to Blaine.

Seeing Blaine.

Seeingallof Blaine.

Kissing.

Touching.

Gasping.

Clinging.

Euphoria.

Snuggling.

Sleep.

Blaine.

Blaine. God, that was Blaine in my bed.

My, that escalated quickly.

It wasn't that I regretted what happened yesterday or the fact that Blaine was still residing in my bed the morning after probably one of the most memorable days... and nights of my life. But Kurt Hummel just didn'tdothings like that.

I was cautious to a fault and was generally fairly careful about allowing people into my home and, well,otherparts of me. Although Blaine did not appear to be reluctant to allow me into... considering last night ended withbothof us... opening up andletting someone in,so to speak.

So, yes, in the early morning fog on a seemingly cold Monday morning I was rather surprised at the outcome. It was odd behavior coming from me because it was so different, but then again – everything with Blaine so far seemed to be different.

"Whuh—" Blaine garbled as he sleepily swatted away the hand that had hit him.

"Sorry," I whispered into the dark as I pulled my hand back to my side of the bed. He rolled over and wrapped his arm around me, still not awake enough to realize what he was doing.

Normally this close contact would not be welcomed. I overheated enough when I slept, having someone else's body next to mine would only exacerbate my inability to sleep. But, oddly, it felt kind of... nice. I wasn't planning on going back to sleep anytime soon, but somehow his warmth next to me didn't bother me in the way I expected.

My mind just kept coming up with that word.

Expected.

What was it that I had expected? My whole life I had expected things to go differently. If I was honest, I'm sure other people expected my life to go differently as well. I didn't expect my dad to remarry... or that he would even have the option to remarry. I didn't expect that I would fall so in love with fashion that I would abandon my dreams of becoming a Broadway star. I didn't expect to still be living in New York and not living on a diet of purely ramen noodles. And most of all, I didn't expect Blaine.

And it wasn't even that I didn't expect Blaine – I didn't expect Blaine to be so... Blaine-ish. I mean, come on, the guy is practically genetically modified both physique and personality-wise. I'm sure the man had flaws, but they weren't apparent from what I'd seen. And I'd seen enough to know that the man was pretty perfect... every lastinch.

And he was kind and thoughtful and, well, just an all-around great guy. I could see why people liked him so much and how personable he was. Even at the holiday party for his work, people seemed to just naturally gravitate toward him and he would make every person laugh and feel like they were his best friend. It was something that I needed considering I tended to come off like a bit of a cold-hearted bitch, but Blaine made it so easy to open up.

Perhaps that was the reason that things progressed as they did last night. He was so receptive to everything that I was saying... anddoing– god, think with the right head Kurt – and he made me feel so comfortable that before long I hadn't even realized that I had spewed out my entire life story.

And yet, it was all okay. I definitely didn't expect that either.

Blaine's nose nudged against my arm and I basked in his presence for just a minute longer. I really wanted to get up and get some coffee started and catch up on more reading. But in this moment, I just wanted to savor the morning – especially considering how much I hated Mondays. I wonder if Blaine hates Mondays like I ha—

Monday.

Oh god, Blaine has to work today.

Shit.

"Blaine," I said softly, shaking his arm.

"Mmmfff," he replied, tucking further into my arm. Normally I would find this endearing, but knowing that he had to work sometime today I didn't think that letting him sleep in would be a very good option.

"Blaine!" I said a bit more harshly.

"Wha—Kurt? What?" he asked, his deep breaths tickling the small hairs of my arm as he exhaled. He blearily opened one eye, smile brightening on his face with each passing second. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," I replied softly. God, he was cute when he just woke up. That jerk. I probably looked crazy and he managed to look a somewhat sleepy, tousled and sexy before the sun had even come up on the horizon. "It's just past seven in the morning."

He groaned and snapped his eyes shut, tucking into me once again. "'S early."

"Yes it is," I said with a chuckle. "But it's Monday. Don't you have to work today?"

"Nine," he replied softly. "Have time."

Apparently Blaine didn't believe in full sentences early in the morning. Not that I blame him; I probably would sound like a caveman if I had been woken up by someone shaking me that early in the morning. But I certainly didn't want Blaine to be late so I hesitantly shook him one more time, only to earn a groan from my boyfriend.

"Don't you need clothes and a shower and stuff?" I questioned.

"Use yours," he responded as if he couldn't be bothered to think past the next few seconds before sleep took him again.

"What are you going to wear though?"

"M'yesterday's stuff," he groggily said. "'Rrow yours."

"And that's where you're wrong, mister," I said with a snort. No one, not even the wonderful Mr. Anderson who I was madly in love with, would be wearing the same clothes they wore the day prior. And, if I was being honest, I wasn't too thrilled about letting him borrow my clothes either. I mean I am somewhat obsessive about the upkeep of my clothing. And judging by the way his clothes were carelessly scattered across the somewhat darkened floor, I assumed he didn't take the same care.

Oh god.

Our clothes.

Are we still naked under here?

I peered under the covers only to have my own nakedness confirmed and judging by the pair of light gray boxer briefs that were certainly not mine on the floor next to the bed, Blaine likely had followed suit. Yet again another Monday morning surprise for Kurt Hummel.

As Blaine pulled his body into mine, his nudity confirmed without question, I sat up in bed and grabbed for my own abandoned pair of underwear – slightly less carelessly left on the floor – and pulled them on under the covers. "Come on, Blaine. I know you have to be at work at 9, but you have to shower and get ready to go since it'll take at least 30 minutes with the train from here."

I went to stand only to have Blaine attempt to pull me back. "Warm," he mused as I pulled myself to my feet.

Warm was right. It was positively freezing outside of the confines of the bed. I wasn't that surprised – it was January in New York after all. I resisted my body's call to rejoin Blaine in bed and instead sped toward my dresser to pull on a pair of (nice) sweatpants and my comfiest cashmere sweater. "Come on sleepy head," I bellowed from the dresser. I was tempted to yank the covers off of Blaine but knew it would be cruel for him – because he would probably freeze to death – and me – because he would be naked and I would have no time to do anything about it.

"But it's early," he whined and I smiled at his first full sentence of the day.

"Come on. If you get in the shower, I'll have a surprise for you when you get out." I was not above bribery to get the man moving.

"A sexy surprise?"

I giggled. "A food surprise. If you're not out of here in five minutes, no food for you and we don't have a good bagel place anywhere near here."

"Fine," he grumbled before sitting up, rubbing his sleep-ridden eyes before looking at me from the bed. "Towel?"

"There are some in the closet opposite the bathroom, but you can use my robe if you'd like," I said as I tossed the robe from its holder on the back of my door. "You know where the bathroom is, right?" He nodded. "Good. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me for anything."

"You're not my mom," he groaned. "But thanks."

I smiled. "Of course." I opened the door and slid through, quietly clicking the door closed behind me. I made my way over to the kitchen just across from my room and opened the kitchen to start whipping up a breakfast feast. As I dug through the contents of my fridge, I felt a hand on my back. I jumped at the contact.

"Dammit Blaine, you scared—"

"Not Blaine," Wes said tauntingly from behind me.

Dammit. I forgot about Wes.

"Shit," I whispered under my breath as I removed the gallon of orange juice from the fridge.

Wes laughed. "So."

I took the gallon of juice and placed it on the counter before turning back to the fridge – intentionally avoiding his eyes as I moved through the motions. "So," I replied cooly.

"Whatcha doin'?" he questioned with a false sense of innocence.

"Making breakfast," I said.

"Hmm," he hummed. "How was your night last night? Did you... do... anything special?"

"Kurt, can I borrow your tooth— oh, uh, hi Wes," Blaine said as he hastily tied the belt on the robe, pulling the two sides closer together so his chest wasn't as exposed.

"Hi Blainers," Wes replied, malicious grin on his face.

God, I hate him right now; Wes, of course, not Blaine. I don't think I could ever hate Blaine. Not after...

"I'm sure Kurt wouldn't mind if you borrowed his toothbrush. His is the green one," he said. "I'm sure you've shared enough," he added under his breath, causing me to smack him on the arm. "Ow!"

"You deserved it," I replied with a shrug.

Blaine laughed at our exchange before speeding off into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him with towel in hand.

"So," Wes started again.

"Wes, can we just – not – right now?" I asked as I pulled the eggs out of the fridge. I was still on a mission to make breakfast and the last thing I needed right now was Wes getting in my way.

"Oh no," he said. "You are not getting out of this one. Kurt Hummel, the man who never dates, who never has a boyfriend, who never has sex - just did all of the things he never does."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not like I'm a nun or a monk or something. I do have feelings. And I do date. Sometimes." I grabbed two pieces of bread and shoved them into the toaster, working skillfully around Wes' impeding form leaning against the counter.

"Yeah, you've had as many dates as the Virgin Mary in the past few years," he joked. Despite my irreligious upbringing, I knew that was a dig.

"Don't think about my love life, Wes. That's for me to know and you to never find out."

"Oh please," he sighed. "Look, all kidding aside, it's not that I need to be... all up in your business. I just... it's just, weird, I guess. Not bad weird. But it's just... I've never seen you be like this – not even with William."

I sighed as I removed two glasses and two plates from the cabinet. I knew that Wes was probably only looking out for me but his somewhat over-testosteroned, bro-tastic response came across as grating rather than supportive. "I know. I was thinking some of the same things this morning – that I just didn't expect this to happen. But it did. And I'm okay with it. And I'mhappy, Wes. Really happy. So, can we just table the specifics from last night for the time being and just... be happy for me?"

He smiled shyly before nodding. "Of course. Besides, I don't know if I want to know that much about Blaine and you... yeah. No thanks."

I laughed. "You were the one who kept bringing it up."

"Noted," he replied as Blaine emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"That was fast," I noted as I sprayed the pan and turned on the stove.

Blaine gave a noncommittal noise. "Doesn't take me too long. But, uh, can I borrow some things from you? I didn't exactly think through that whole clothing thing when you first woke me up this morning."

"Sure," I said, tossing the spatula into Wes' hands.

Wes' eyes bulged but he took the spatula in hand and turned toward the pan I had abandoned. "If you get food poisoning, it's on you," he grumbled as he stirred the eggs.

I chuckled as I made my way to my room with Blaine at my heels. "I have a few things you could borrow and we can put your clothes into a bag or something so you can take them home with you."

"Works for me," he replied as he pulled the towel tighter around him.

I opened the drawers and pulled out a plain t-shirt and Blaine's pair of pants before handing them to him. "This should work, considering that the pants are yours to start with. I also have a sweater you could borrow if you need to. But don't spill on it," I said, somewhat joking.

He laughed. "I'll do my best." I was about to head toward the door before he spoke again. "Uh, can I borrow some underwear too?"

I turned back toward him, slight blush on my face. I realized that it wasn't really that embarrassing considering everything that happened last night, but it was still new territory I was not familiar with.

"Uh, sure. Here," I said, quickly tearing open my underwear drawer and throwing the first pair of whatever was in there into his arms.

He laughed heartily. "Really, Kurt?" he said, taking the underwear into his hand and inspecting it.

Afraid that there was something on them – which would not happen since I regarded my hygiene with the utmost care and pretreated all of my laundry even though it was unnecessary – I looked back only to see that I had given him a novelty pair of underwear I had gotten as a joke one year from Wes. Specifically a pair of boxers – which I never wore anyway – with shamrocks on them and the words "Get lucky" emblazoned on the waistband.

Fuck.

Of course, of all the underwear that I owned I had to blindly give himthatpair. I blame Wes for everything right now – well, Wes and the fact that today was laundry day.

I groaned. "Don't judge - those were from Wes. And I don't wear them or anything."

He laughed. "I kind of figured since I can only assume that your underwear choice is more along the lines of what you wore last night," he said with a wink. He certainly was intimately aware of my underwear choice considering at one point he had them between his teeth. The thought made me shudder. "Not to mention Wes one year sent me a pair for Christmas with mistletoe over the crotch that said 'Kiss this.' I think it's just his way of making people feel loved."

I grinned. At first I thought your friendships with Wes would be hindering, but in this case it was reassuring – mainly reassuring that Blaine knew that I didn't have the same underwear choices as a high school boy. But Wes certainly did if judging by his clothes pile on laundry day.

Leaving Blaine to get dressed, I went back out to the kitchen to see Wes whistling while stirring the eggs that I had left with him. He quirked his brow and handed over the spatula.

"What's that look for?" he asked, sitting at the table.

I looked at him quizzically. "What look?"

He smiled. "God, it's really happening, isn't it?"

Puzzled, I asked again. "What do you mean?"

His secretive smile grew as he spoke. "You weren't kidding. You reallyarehappy. It shows on your face. And you're in love with the guy who was addicted to hair product, ridiculous neckwear and drank too much coffee in high school. I can't believe it."

I smiled as I continued stirring. I didn't expect it but I was happy. And I was doing things I never thought I would do.

And that's okay.

Blaine makes it okay.