Soon after the newly-weds returned home, Blaine secured a job as a music teacher in the local elementary school. Singing and playing guitar with kids all day was the perfect job for someone as musical as Blaine.
“You love singing with the kiddies, don’t you, Blaine?” Kurt teased the evening after Blaine’s first day. He himself had been out all day selling his designs to major clothing-chains.
“Shut up!” Blaine said, slapping half-heartedly at Kurt. “You know the only ‘little kid’ I have eyes for is you!”
”Hey!” It was Kurt’s turn to feign irritation.
“You brought it on yourself,” Blaine smiled. “What with the seventh-grade pedo joke.” Kurt just hit him lightly.
The pair were not short on cash, and never would be with the support of Blaine’s grandparents and their massive fortune, but the pair wanted to feel like they were supporting themselves at least a little. So Blaine was a teacher and Kurt worked on his designs. He was hell-bent on becoming a famous designer one day, the kind who has beautiful girls walk down the runway wearing their clothes at New York fashion week. And Blaine knew that with Kurt’s determination and perseverance, he would be one day.
Shortly after Blaine left at promptly 8’o’clock the next day, Kurt found himself sitting about, listless and bored. He climbed back into bed and tried to sleep, but soon found he was so used to having a warm, cuddly, Blaine-shaped teddy to hold as he went to sleep that he could not nod off. Eventually, he showered and dressed, drifting into his study, where he drew a few new sketches, and sewed a bit more of his current project. But it was still no use. The models looked like Blaine again, just like in college. Blaine had been gone less than three hours and already he missed him…
Around eleven, Kurt went downstairs, made himself a sandwich and ate it. As soon as he had done so, he decided the kitchen was horribly messy. He began to clean obsessively. He wiped every surface, polished every cupboard, swept and mopped the floor, rubbed at the table till it gleamed, wiped at the windows until their was no sign of the kisses he and Blaine shared through the window when one was outside without the other. He even cleaned out all the cupboards and the fridge.
After leaving the spotless kitchen, he realized just how messy the rest of the house was. Their bed was unmade, there were cup-marks on all the tables, the sleeping stuff from the wedding was still out, and several wedding gifts lay about, having yet to be allocated a place to stay. So Kurt spent the next few hours cleaning, tidying and hoovering the rest of the house until it gleamed like the kitchen.
When Blaine arrived home at well past six, he found himself in a totally spotless house, the smell of baking wafting gently from the kitchen. He opened the door and stopped dead. Kurt mixed something in a bowl, his clothes, face, hair and every inch of bare skin covered in flour, sugar, cocoa powder, icing and batter. Surrounding him, and covering every surface were plates and plates of desserts. Cookies, brownies, cupcakes… Chocolate cake, Victoria Sponge, Coffee cake, Carrot cake… Shortbread, Jam tarts, Mince pies, Iced buns, Scones, Angel food cake…
“Planning a cake feast, are we?” He said, mystified. Kurt started, turning toward the sound of his voice, dropping his mixing spoon.
“Blaine, honey! You could have told me you were home!” He said, a small frown marking his face.
“I got in five seconds ago and you know it, Kurt Hummel-Anderson. Now, back to the matter at hand: Cakes?” Blaine asked with a rueful smile. He knew his lover was deliberately changing the subject.
“What? I finished cleaning the entire house around three… What did you expect me to do for four hours? Sit about and twiddle my thumbs?” His scowl deepened, but Blaine only laughed and pulled him into a close embrace. As he did so, he noticed a blob of batter on the end of Kurt’s nose. His mouth was on it in an instant, his tongue sliding over the smooth skin. Kurt squealed.
“Mmm! Good!” Blaine murmured.
“Hmph.” Kurt said, still ‘sulking’. “Now,” He said, raising his hand. Before he could finish whatever he was going to say, Blaine had grabbed his hand and licked the batter off of his thumb, then off his first finger, index finger, ring finger and finally pinky finger, his eyes never leaving Kurt’s as he did so.
“You taste so good...” He murmured, picking up Kurt’s other hand and licking that one clean too, Kurt allowing himself a few moans of pleasure this time. He had to stop Blaine when he found the smudge of batter on his cheek and licked it off oh-so slowly.
“No, Blaine.” Kurt said, pushing him away and holding him at arm’s length. “These cookies need finishing.
“At least let me call Mercedes. We are going to need some help devouring this lot.” Blaine smiled, fishing his phone from his pocket.
“Okay… I do need to catch up with my bestest girl friend. I haven’t seen her since her moving in party last weekend!” He consented.
“Oh, shock horror! God forbid you should go for more than eight days without seeing your bestest bud!” Blaine said, pretending to faint. Mercedes had recently moved into the area, and she and Kurt had been inseparable since.
“Mercedes? It’s Blaine. We’d like to invite you over for the night. Kurt had… some boredom issues while I was at work today, and has baked the world’s supply of cakes. But of course, you won’t want to eat them…” Blaine said when Mercedes picked up a few minutes later.
“Oh hell to the no white boy. I wants those cakes. I’ll be over in ten.” Mercedes said, and hung up.
“Uh…” Mercedes muttered as she walked into the house, the door of which had been left ajar, and found Blaine licking cookie batter off of Kurt’s neck“It’s a married thing..” Blaine said, and they all laughed, getting on with eating the cakes.