It started the fall after Sam and Blaine had moved to New York.

The first few weekends had been blissful; with Rachel deep into out-of-town tech rehearsals for 'Funny Girl' and Santana and Brittany off the grid (save for a few postcards), it was just the three of them. Sam would go running in the mornings, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone to make up for lost time and try new things in the bedroom. By the time Sam came home to get in the shower they had already dressed and started a late breakfast. But then late August came, and with that college football season. Kurt woke up one Saturday morning to find them already awake, parked on the sofa in front of the television watching the college football preview shows. And then the noon games...and the 3:30 ones, and the night games, oh and if he was lucky the late night west coast games. Nowadays, ESPN blaring from the living room served as his Saturday alarm clock.

Well, at least he and Blaine still had Sundays.

Eventually Kurt grew used to it; he would catch the less football-ish parts of the game day preview shows, note the elaborate tailgating spreads, and start experimenting with a few recipes ("why shovel processed chips and jarred chemical salsa into your gullets when I can make homemade tortillas and fresh pico here?" he told Blaine). Elliot would even procure bourbon for him to play mixologist. Blaine and Sam both appreciated the upgrade in game day snacks.

And then...well, then there was Kliff Kingsbury.

One day he was walking to their curtained-off bedroom from the kitchen to change after he'd splattered Thai-style chili wing sauce on his sweater, and as he passed behind Blaine his eyes fell on the TV and he caught a glimpse of the head coach for Texas Tech. And he caught himself thinking who is that because he looks like Ryan Gosling and he dresses so well and good lord I am now much more interested in this game. The sweater stain nearly forgotten, he leaned on the sofa arm by Blaine and watched until the next commercial. Then he ducked into the bedroom, quickly changed shirts, ran to soak the stained sweater in the bathroom sink, and was back by Blaine's side before the next down was played. Once the game was over and there was no more hot coach, he left them alone.

The next weekend was a blur and football went by the wayside; Mercedes had moved to New York to work on her album, and Sam decided to move in with her, "just as friends" ("Sure," Kurt had told them both. "You keep telling yourselves that."). By the time he and Blaine returned to the loft from helping them both move they were exhausted and crashed without even turning on the TV.

One of the advantages of the move (besides, frankly, finally having Sam out of the overcrowded loft) was that now Blaine had another place to go so he and Sam could have their football marathon Saturdays. This was the case the following weekend; Blaine was up and dressed early to head to Sam and Mercedes's place, and kissed a snoozing Kurt on the forehead before he left. Kurt got up about a half hour later; he showered, drank some coffee Blaine had left for him in the insulated carafe, and dressed casual for a day of house-cleaning. He turned on the TV hoping to catch a “Don’t Be Tardy to the Party” marathon to play in the background. Instead, he discovered that the TV had been left on ESPN the night before, and there was “College GameDay”...live from Lubbock and Texas Tech’s campus. There was that coach again, Kliff Kingsbury, and he was just…mesmerizing. Kurt couldn't feel guilty; he loved Blaine, wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, had in fact promised just that, but...but that shirt was just so tight, stretched across Kingsbury's chest and well. There was nothing wrong with a little eye-candy, right? And next thing Kurt knew, he was parked on the TV with the Texas Tech game on and a laptop perched on his knee going through every feature on SB Nation about this hottie. He just so happened to notice quite a few cute players, as well, but not really any other coaches that could pique his interest the way Kingsbury did. Instead he found himself critiquing coach fashion out loud to himself. "I mean, really? Who said short-sleeve turtlenecks were ever acceptable, Malzahn?" By the time Blaine got home that night, Kurt was asleep on the sofa, “College Football Final Scoreboard” on the TV on mute. He smiled and kissed Kurt on the neck; Kurt snuffled and turned up to catch Blaine's lips and followed him to bed.

The next weekend Sam was back watching at their place, and Kurt couldn't help but pout because the Tech game was at 2:30 but Sam and Blaine were watching Ohio State. “We only played Tech that one weekend, Kurt,” Sam says. “But hey, maybe my Vols will face them in a bowl. Since when are you into football anyway?”

Kurt blushed. “Um, since I’ve gotten nostalgic for my old kicking days. And it gives me something else to talk to Dad about.” He quickly ran to the kitchen, opened up his laptop, and found a livestream of the game.

That night, after Sam had gone home, Blaine joined Kurt in bed and snuggled up behind him. “You’re not fooling me, you know,” he whispered. Kurt froze.

"I saw your laptop open in the kitchen when I went to get a drink from the Sodastream. I guess you went to the bathroom?" Kurt whined, embarrassed at having his secret crush exposed. "Hey, it’s okay, Kliff Kingsbury is freaking gorgeous. And I think it’s cute that you have a crush on a football coach,” Blaine sang as he tickled Kurt’s ribs.

"I…hee hee, stop it! I...ha-ha, do not," Kurt said as he wriggled and turned in Blaine’s arms.

"Oh, so the idea of him getting a big cooler of Gatorade poured over him after a win does nothing for you? All wet and sticky and his thin, tight shirt clinging to his abs…"

"Oh, shut up," Kurt growled, as he kissed Blaine, grasping his lower lip in his teeth and sliding a hand down his pajama bottoms. "I'll show you wet and sticky."