“Blaine come on, we're gonna be late.” Kurt calls from the bedroom into the empty loft. With only Rachel, Blaine and himself living there now it's easy to forget how loud and far his voice carries into the open space.

Rachel isn't even here tonight, she's working and Kurt knows that Blaine will be able to hear him perfectly fine, but he's been in the bathroom for a really long time, and they really have to go.

With one last check in the stand-up mirror of their bedroom, Kurt pockets his wallet and phone and heads out into the main living room, towards the bathroom.

“Blaine honey, come on. Let's go. Didn't you gel your hair hours ago? I'm sure it's fine.”

Kurt lifts his hands to gently wrap his knuckles against the door, but then drops his hand to the door knob, twists and pushes.

When there's only the two of them in the loft, they don't see the need for locks and privacy. When you're getting married and you share an underwear shelf and morning breath daily- there's no need for modesty.

“Honey, bring your pocket Gel and a comb and come on, move it- oh-” Kurt barges into the small bathroom, words already rolling off of his tongue when he stops short, eyes locking on to Blaine standing in front of him on the bathroom tiles, facing the small medicine cabinet mirror.

“You- your hair. Where's your gel?” Kurt takes a tentative step forward, fingers already itching at his sides to reach and touch and feel and grab.

Blaine quickly glances away from his reflection and over to Kurt, an embarrassed, sheepish look on his face. He fingers at a loose dark tendril, which is falling gracefully over his forehead, biting his lip and twisting his foot against the tile like a small child.

“You- you don't like it?” He asks his voice small and shy.

“No, no- I mean yes, god yes, uh yeah, I do like it-” Kurt's hurries forward, stepping up into Blaine's personal space, his filter between his brain and his mouth seemingly vanished.

Blaine blushes and stands still as Kurt's hands come up to cup his cheeks, his fingers spreading out and brushing at the curls falling at his ears and temples.

“It's different huh?” Blaine murmurs. His whisky swirled eyes staring deeply into Kurt's, slightly glazed under the dull overhead bathroom light.

“Yeah, quite.” Kurt breathes, twisting a curl around his finger tip, no longer flattened and cemented with gel.

It's nothing like that time back in high school when Britney had made Blaine wash his gel out at that weird Dinosaur prom. This is so much different. So much better. Hotter.

Kurt's eyes widen and darken, fascinated in the way the curl drops and loosens between his fingers and then twirls back up again as if on a bouncy mechanism.

Blaine chuckles lowly and only then does Kurt focus on Blaine's face. “You look great Blaine. Your hair looks amazing.”

Unsure why, Kurt leans forward presses his nose to Blaine's temple and inhales deeply before pulling back with a small peck. Kurt smiles, he can smell the distinct scent of his own hairspray and other various styling products that is kept for all to use.

Blaine has really went to town with this.

Sure he's seen his fiancé in his full gel-less glory plenty of times now, but this is different. This isn't bed-head Blaine, or Blaine fresh from a shower or stressed Blaine with his hair frizzy and sticking up in all directions. Or even sated Blaine with Kurt's finger tracks breaking through the remnants of the sticky mould against their pillow case.

This is Blaine dressed up gorgeously in his favourite plaid shirt and bowtie, with tight fitting chinos and expensive shoes. Smelling of Kurt's most desired cologne, his jaw shaven with just a slight five o'clock shadow and remnants of  stubble, the way Kurt likes it- all ready for date night, and all with a head full of carefully styled beautifully dark, shiny curly hair.

This is sexy Blaine at his very best.  

“What brought this on?” Kurt asks weakly, clearing his throat and threading his fingers around the back of Blaine's head, gently massaging his scalp.

Blaine shrugs lightly, humming and grinning at the feel of Kurt lazily scratching his finger nails through his hair, fully exploring in every which way. “Dunno. I just- just thought I'd give it a try. You do like it right?”

Blaine doesn't even have to wait for an answer. Kurt crowds him up against the sink and presses a hard kiss to his lips, only waiting a beat before repeating again and again, brushing and folding their lips together in a rhythmic pattern.

Kurt pulls on Blaine's hair gently, rather suggestively, enticing a delicious half moan/half pant into his mouth.

They don't make their reservations on time that evening.         

*

“Ugh, I have work way too early tomorrow morning.” Kurt moans, burying himself under the covers further, sliding down into the mattress and against the pillows.

Blaine smirks from the other side of the room, he shrugs off his robe and hangs it up next to Kurt's on their shared hanging rail.

“I know, I have a breakfast study group first thing too,” Blaine starts turning around and walking over towards his side of the bed. “I was thinking I could stop by and see you at lunch time –what? What is it?”

Kurt's head is lifted up and off the pillow, staring open mouthed at Blaine. His heavy eyelids slowly start to peel open until they're wide and beady, sitting up fully and shuffling to the center of the bed. He holds a hand out for Blaine, gesturing for him to come closer.  

Kurt swallows, resists the urge to lick his lips and nods down to Blaine's bare chest. It's hot in the loft this summer and the bedroom has kind of become a ‘no PJ' zone more recently.

Blaine slowly pads towards him in his stripy sleep shorts, hands defensively coming to rest on his chest as Kurt eyes him hungrily and- ah. Ah.

“You're hairy.” Kurt comments as Blaine crawls up onto the bed to kneel beside him on top of the covers. “I mean in a good way. It's different.”

Blaine ducks his head a little, trying to hide his little grin, his recently freed curls dropping down with him, bobbing against his forehead.

“I am,” He answers, head slowly rising to watch Kurt's mesmerized expression. “You like?”

Kurt nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “When did-you stopped waxing?” He asks, his voice rising in pitch slightly, His hands start fidgeting, eager to reach out and grab and feel. He clasps them tightly together in his lap, for the time being.

“Yeah, I uh- I missed my appointment the other day, cause class ran late and then I just kind of waited to see how it would look.” Blaine tries to shrug as nonchalantly as possible.

Kurt nods, clearly liking what he sees. Oh he likes alright. There is a short dark spattering of fine hair curling around Blaine's tight, broad chest and pectoral muscles. With a neat wavy line trailing down his sternum towards his trim stomach and a cute little swirling thatch that gathers around his soft slightly squishy navel area.

The soft ‘V' lines between Blaine's slim hips that disappear down into his shorts, are almost invisible, buried under the dark fuzz, and Kurt just wants to dig down and find the shape again- with his tongue.

“Do you like?” Kurt gulps, turning the question around. Suddenly he gets the feeling that as much as he does want to devour Blaine right now, it's important to know that Blaine is still comfortable and happy in his own skin, and is doing  this for no other reason that self satisfaction.

Blaine slowly drags a palm over his own chest and then down, his fingers sliding through his freshly grown body hair. Kurt does not miss the way that the movement turns slightly suggestive.

“You know, I think I actually, really do.” Blaine replies quietly smirking as his eyes catch with Kurt's. Watching Kurt watch him.

“Good. Me too.” Kurt says very decidedly, eyes lighting up. And then he pounces.

Kurt calls in sick for work the next morning and Blaine doesn't make his breakfast study group.    

*

“Blaine?”

Kurt ventures further into the loft after closing the door and setting his satchel down on the kitchen table. He steps closer towards his and Blaine's curtained off bedroom. Closer to where grunts and groans and huffs of exertion are coming louder and quicker.

Kurt gets to the curtain, a little worried by what he may find, yanks it back in one big harsh swipe and- oh. Oh.

“Blaine, you're uh- you're doing sit ups?”

Kurt crouches down in front of his fiancé- dressed in a pair of grey sweat pants and a white tank top clinging to his chest and shoulders.

Blaine pushes his upper torso up off of the floor, bending into a full sitting position with bent knees and then slowly eases himself back down to the hardwood floor again, hands by his head, with little ‘oofs' and ‘aahhs' escaping his lips.

Kurt winces a little. “You uh, you want a gym matt or something? That can't be too comfortable.”

Blaine folds back upwards towards Kurt, huffing and panting. “Nope, I'm good.”

Kurt sits back on his heels, watches Blaine work for a little while. Watches the way his curls damp and a little sweaty fall and drop in and out of place. He practically ogles the course dark hairs, moist and clinging to Blaine's chest as they peek out over the low rounded neckline of his tank top.

Blaine, after a while, suddenly falls down onto the floor on his back, panting heavily with his eyes squeezed shut. Kurt reaches over the top of him to grab his water bottle on the floor beside him and give it to him. 

“So uh what are you doing and why?” Kurt asks quietly when Blaine has caught his breath, and sits up a little to pat at Kurt's knee in greeting.

“Um working out? Doing sit ups?” Blaine looks at Kurt as though he's just asked the most obvious question in the world- in a way he has.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I can see that. But why? You hate sit ups, you said it's boring. What happened to your sparring sessions?”  

Blaine shrugs, his shoulders hunching inwards a little defensively. “Sparring isn't very effective, you know for the uh- the stomach?”

“What?” Kurt's eyes go wide, his voice a little higher than probably deemed. His eyes fall automatically to the little round padding of Blaine's tummy under his tank.

Kurt loves that tummy. Loves it. At night time after they're both cleaned up and sleepy in bed, Kurt loves nothing more than resting his cheek over that soft wedge and listening to Blaine's body calm and relax into a gentle sleep. Or when watching TV on the couch, Kurt's favourite movie marathon position is leaning back onto Blaine, using his belly as a cushion.

Kurt doesn't want that belly to go anywhere, it doesn't need to go anywhere.  

Suddenly everything seems to fall into place. Noo gel, no waxing, working out extra hard and out of character. “B-Blaine are- are you trying to change yourself?”

Blaine doesn't say anything but his silence and the way he hangs his head on his shoulders, not meeting Kurt's eyes, is answer enough.

Kurt scoots closer, takes Blaine's hands in his and tugs. “Blaine why? You're perfect the way you are.” Blaine's eyes clear up a little, watery and hazy.

“You um- you loved my new hair style, and- and when I stopped waxing,” Blaine says very quietly, as if by way of explanation, his voice a little thick and rough.

“Hey,” Kurt stops him before he can get to sniffling. “Yes I did, I do. But Blaine those are changes of style, of preference. I don't want you to put yourself through something to dramatically change the way you look, something that can effect you in greater ways then just a new beauty routine. Not for me. Not unless you want to. You know that I've always loved your stomach, so slim and toned and rounded and curvy right in the best places. And I know that you do too.” Kurt teases and Blaine lets a giggle slip out.

“I hope you weren't doing any of this because of something I may have said or maybe unintentionally made you feel a certain way-”

“No-no,” Blaine stops him. “No It's just that Sam's new shoot looks great and he was telling me about-”

“Uggcchh.” Kurt makes a disgusted, annoyed throaty noise and rolls his eyes, causing Blaine to stop rambling. “Sam!” 

Blaine, not really sure what to do or say, climbs up on to his knees, rising a little higher than Kurt but before he can lift up to stand completely Kurt catches him, arms wrapped tight around his waist and pulls him close, pressing his face to the soft padding of Blaine's belly.

“What are you doing?” Blaine laughs, trying to swat Kurt's face away as he starts mouthing at Blaine's belly through the thin fabric of his tank. “Ew I'm all sweaty and gross, stop.”

“Are not.” Kurt's voice is muffled against Blaine and it rumbles and vibrates through his skin, cause him to giggle harder. “You're perfect.”

Kurt holds Blaine tighter around the thighs in his arms and uses his teeth and nose to nudge up the hem of Blaine's shirt, so that his lips come into contact with Blaine's warm, squidgy skin.

“If you lost this, then I wouldn't be able to do this would I?” Kurt asks in a pleading, pathetic, highly amusing tone, his eyes and mouth latched onto Blaine's soft and slightly hair spattered padded tummy.

“Hey, who are you talking to? My eyes are up here.” Blaine smiles down at his too silly, yet too adorable fiancé, his eyes shining with pure warmth and nothing but love for this man.

Blaine has had to deal with insecurities before, they both have, and probably admittedly both hadn't dealt with those issues in the best of ways. But now they're older and stronger, they're just better and Kurt knows exactly what Blaine needs to hear in order to support him correctly. And vice versa.

Kurt grins into Blaine's stomach and continues to babble nonsense into his skin, as if talking to a baby or pet.    

Blaine is just about to swat him away playfully, when Kurt makes an audible over exaggerated inhalation noise and blows a messy, wet loud raspberry onto Blaine's stomach, causing him to giggle and wriggle and grasp at Kurt's shoulders gleefully.

Kurt laughs along with him until eventually they're both just a heap of arms and legs on the floor, laughing and kissing breathlessly, folded over each other.

“You really don't think I need to loose a little something, you know around that area?” Blaine asks shyly once they're both calm and resting, with Blaine lying face up on the floor and Kurt draped over the top of him.

Blaine pats and rubs at his stomach as if exaggerating his point before Kurt stills his hands and brings the pads of Blaine's fingers up to his lips.

“No I don't, and there's certainly no issue with your health, you're perfectly fit and healthy.” Blaine preens if a little bashfully and Kurt props himself up on an elbow to stare down at him carefully. “But honey it's not about me, or anybody else. This is about you, and what makes you happier and more comfortable in your own skin. All I'm saying is, if you want a second opinion –then I say don't go changing… I love you just the way you are-”

Blaine barks out a laugh, interrupting Kurt's little serenade. “Really? Billy Joel? That's the best you could do?” He bops him on the nose, and Kurt tickles his sides.

“S'truth.” Kurt mumbles into the warm, soft dip of Blaine's throat, pressing his full weight down on to Blaine. Blaine hums and rubs his hands up and down Kurt's back.

“You'd really miss it? The tummy?” He asks quietly, and although he seems a lot calmer and happier and relaxed now, Kurt can still pick up on a hint of self doubt in the tone of his voice. 

Kurt looks at Blaine, like really looks at him. He takes every single little inch of him in, as if trying to capture every piece of him to memory.

“I'd miss you.” Kurt quietly answers after some time, his voice soft, eyes shining and still smiling brightly. “Like a heck of a lot if you went away. And this-” Kurt prods at Blaine's belly before caressing him there gently, “Is a part of you. So answer that question for yourself huh?”

And there's just no arguing with that is there?