Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

Blaine had a mental list a mile long of things he loved about his boyfriend. Included on this list were things like

22: has a voice that can make angels weep

183: that shy look under his lashes that makes my knees buckle

And of course, the all-important one,

103: that adorable dimple in his right cheek

But of all the things that Blaine adored about Kurt, there was one particular addendum to the list that sometimes he loved, and sometimes he didn't.

3: is a stubborn as a freaking mule

Blaine had to learn (and fast) that when Kurt set his mind to something, it was going to happen or else. Personally, Blaine had never been on the receiving end of the "or else" part, but Kurt's brother had warned him plenty of times that it was most certainly not pretty.

So when Blaine accidentally let it slip during a study session at Kurt's house that he didn't know how to bake anything, he shouldn't have been surprised when Kurt gave a strangled squeak of surprise, bopped him on the kneecap, and ordered him to get upstairs to the kitchen.

"But we need to study," Blaine reminded him, locking his arms around Kurt's waist. The two of them were curled up on Kurt's bed, Blaine with his back to the wall and Kurt sitting between his legs, a science textbook propped up on his thighs. "Our test is tomorrow. I thought we left Dalton so we could have some peace and quiet, not make more distractions."

"Cake helps me think," Kurt said, trying to wriggle away from Blaine's grasp. "I can't believe you don't know how to bake. I have to teach you how."

"Kurt, if the occasion ever arises that I need to bake something- which, I might add, will probably never happen- I'm sure I can follow the directions on a cake mix box," Blaine said. "I'm sure a Dalton-educated boy such as myself can handle it."

"A cake mix?" Kurt said, jaw dropping in horror. "That's not real cake. That's…that's sacrilege." He squirmed in Blaine's arms, the science textbook flopping over he side of the bed in a flurry of pages. "Let me go! We're going to go bake!"

Blaine laughed. "You're not going to just let this go, are you?' he teased.

"No," Kurt said flatly.

"Then we can bake on two conditions," Blaine said.

Kurt scowled. "Fine. What are they?"

"Number one," Blaine said, raising a finger. "We study while the cake's in the oven."

"Fair enough. And the other?"

Blaine raised another finger. "I won't let you go until you kiss me."

Kurt flushed a little. "I suppose I can do that," he said.

Blaine grinned and pulled him in tighter to kiss him. For a brief moment Kurt snuggled into his chest, lips pressed to his, but the moment they broke apart he scrambled off the bed. "Go upstairs and preheat the oven to 350," he said, tugging on his Dalton tie. "I'm going to change before I start baking."

"Don't tell me," Blaine said. "You have an outfit reserved just for baking?"

His answer was Kurt wadding up his uniform shirt and chucking it in Blaine's face. "Don't make me throw the pants, too," he threatened as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"I wouldn't mind if you threw the pants," Blaine offered through the closed door. He heard Kurt laugh, but no answer, so he headed upstairs to do Kurt's bidding.

The oven knobs were a little more complicated than he expected. He turned one experimentally and frowned. "See, this is why you need me to teach you how to bake," he heard a voice say behind him. "You can't even turn the oven on."

"I can too," Blaine protested. He turned around and raised an eyebrow. "That's your baking ensemble?"

Kurt glanced down at his black tank top and dark wash jeans. "I tend to get…a little messy when I bake," he said. He brushed past Blaine and expertly turned the knobs on the oven. "There. Can't you even preheat properly?"

"I could probably figure it out on the oven at my house," he protested.

Kurt smiled and patted him on the cheek. "I'm sure you could, darling," he said. "Now get me the 8" round cake pans from the drawer under the stove, please."

Blaine yanked the drawer and rummaged through it as Kurt pulled out a mixer. "Is this what I'm looking for?" he asked, holding up two round metal pans.

"Mm? Oh, perfect," Kurt said. He opened the refrigerator, stuck his head inside, and mumbled something.

Blaine straightened and grinned. He crept over and drew the hem of Kurt's shirt up his back. "Looking for something, babe?" he asked, kissing lightly up his spine with his hands firm on Kurt's hips.

Kurt shivered. "Ooh, that tickles," he said. He batted at Blaine's hands. "I think I have the ingredients for a strawberry cake."

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. "That sounds good," he said.

Kurt straightened and squirmed a little in Blaine's arms, trying to tug away. "With strawberry preserves in the middle," he said.

"Fine with me," Blaine said. He tucked his chin against Kurt's shoulder, still holding him tightly.

"And chocolate ganache frosting," Kurt mused.

"Whatever you pick, I don't care," Blaine said. He kissed the soft skin under Kurt's ear.

Kurt squeaked. "You can't do that," he said, smacking playfully at Blaine's hands. "Not when I'm trying to bake things. You're a distraction."

Blaine followed him across the kitchen. "I'm your favorite distraction," he said.

"But a distraction nonetheless," Kurt said, tapping his finger against the tip of Blaine's nose. "Now, grease and flour the pans."

"Do what?" Blaine said.

Kurt handed him a spray can of cooking oil. "Spray this into the pans, then cover them with flour," he instructed. "It's not that hard, I promise."

Blaine fumbled with the cap. "I'm not buying it," he warned. "This seems sort of tricky."

"Then you may not touch my mixer," Kurt said, lugging the large sunshine yellow mixer from its corner of the counter.

Blaine struggled to prepare the two cake pans. He kept glancing out of the corner of his eye at Kurt, who was deftly measuring flour and sugar with the precise air of someone who had done this many times before. Kurt barely glanced at the recipe card propped up by the sugar canister.

"Is this one of your favorite recipes?" Blaine asked.

"One of them," Kurt said absently as he poured melted butter into the mixing bowl and turned on the beaters. "You can never go wrong with a strawberry cake." He paused. "Oh! I forgot. Can you get the strawberries out of the fridge and dice about half a cup for me, please?"

"Sure," Blaine said, dusting the flour off his hands. He got the berries out of the fridge and pulled out a small plastic cutting board, and he was just about to start cutting them when Kurt shrieked. Blaine dropped the small paring knife. "Oh my god! What's wrong! Are you all right?"

"You need to wash those!" Kurt said. "You can't just dump unclean berries in my cake! That's disgusting!"

Blaine let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. "You are not allowed to scare me like that again," he said.

"Scare you like what?" Kurt asked.

"We are surrounded by heating elements and sharp knives. If you scream, I'm gonna think the worst," Blaine pointed out.

Kurt laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Sorry," he said. "I just take baking very seriously."

"I can see that," Blaine said.

Kurt handed him a colander and propelled him towards the sink. "Now wash my strawberries," he said.

"That's what she said," Blaine snickered, dropping a handful of berries into the colander and swishing them under cold water.

Kurt pouted and kicked him lightly. "I had no idea you cracked so many of those jokes," he said.

Blaine tilted his head back to grin at him. "It's part of my dapper charm," he said.

"That's what you think," Kurt retorted.

They fell into comfortable, companionable silence as they worked on their separate parts of the cake, moving around each other with gentle hip nudges and playful touches and teasing smiles. Blaine struggled to dice the strawberries evenly, but it was a little difficult when Kurt crept up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Are you trying to distract me?" Blaine asked.

"Mm-hm," Kurt said, kissing the side of his neck. "Now it's my turn to be the favorite distraction." He kissed him again. "But really, you ought to finish this up. I'm waiting, and I don't want my cake batter to sit out too long."

"Well, then, how does this look?" Blaine asked, gesturing towards the cutting board.

"It'll do," Kurt appraised. "Go on, mix it in."

Blaine smacked the back of his hand against his forehead in mock astonishment. "Oh, dear me! You're going to let me touch the sacred mixer?" he said.

"Only if you think you can manage it," Kurt said.

"I think I can," Blaine said with a wink. He carried the cutting board over to the mixing bowl and dumped the strawberries into it. "It's this switch, right?"

"Uh-huh, but be careful," Kurt said anxiously.

"No need to hover, I got this," Blaine said. The mixer whirred to life, blending the fresh strawberries into the cake batter.

"You need to scrape down the sides of the bowl," Kurt said, thrusting a rubber spatula in his hand.

"Wait, what?" Blaine said.

"Scrape down the sides of the bowl," Kurt said. He wrapped his hand over Blaine's and guided the scraper along the sides. "See? Like this."

"I could get used to this," Blaine grinned.

"Hush, you," Kurt said. He flipped off the mixer. "Can I trust you to pour the cake batter into the pans?"

"I think I can handle that," Blaine said.

Kurt raised the beaters and handed Blaine the bowl. "Be careful," he warned.

"I'll do my best," Blaine grinned. He tipped the silver bowl over the pans, slowly pouring the cake batter. Kurt peered over his shoulder. "You really can trust me. I won't suddenly start flinging cake batter all over your kitchen."

"They have to be even, okay?" Kurt said. "If they're not even, they won't bake evenly."

Blaine scraped as much of the batter as he could out of the bowl. "There," he said. "Do you find it satisfactory?"

Kurt frowned, took the spatula, and dipped a little batter from one pan to the other. "Now I am," he said cheerfully. "Now stand back. I'm going to put these in the oven."

"Oh, heaven forbid I get burned by an open oven door!" Blaine said. Kurt rolled his eyes and busied himself with rearranging the wire racks and placing the pans in precise spots for ideal baking. Blaine absentmindedly picked up the spatula and licked some of the batter off.

"Hey!" Kurt protested as he set the timer. "Save some for me."

"But it's so good," Blaine said.

Kurt pouted and tugged the mixing bowl away. "Mine," he said.

Blaine watched Kurt run his slender finger along the edge of the bowl. "You've got flour all over you," he remarked.

"Hence, I changed clothes," Kurt said absently, focused on the batter in the mixing bowl, the soft pink against the sky blue ceramic. Without thinking, Blaine licked his lips. Kurt raised his finger to his mouth, and before he could stop himself, he took Kurt by the wrist.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Kurt stammered.

Blaine grinned and drew Kurt's finger to his lips. Kurt's cheeks turned pink as Blaine licked the cake batter off his finger, his tongue moving lightly over his soft skin. He laughed softly at the surprised deer-in-the-headlights look in his boyfriend's eyes.

"You're doing that eye-sex thing again," Kurt said, his cheeks still rosy.

"Mm-hm," Blaine said.

"If you ask me to put my hands on you in your skin-tight jeans, I might have to kick you," Kurt said, his voice dropping, soft and throaty.

"Fine, we can make this fair," Blaine grinned. He dipped his finger in the bowl, scooping up some of the cake batter, then held out his hand. "Truce?"

Kurt cupped Blaine's hand in both of his and tugged his finger towards his rosy pink lips. Blaine's air caught in his throat as his fingertip slipped into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's eyes looked more intensely blue than usual as he gazed up at Blaine from under his thick fringe of lashes. Blaine stared at him, Kurt's tongue soft and warm against his finger. "Guh," he said.

Kurt giggled. "That's all you can say?" he said, still in that soft throaty voice.

"At the moment, yeah," Blaine said.

Kurt let go of his hand and turned back to the mixer. "We still have the beaters, you know," he said. He popped the beaters out and handed one to Blaine, waving it back and forth. "Want one?"

"Yes, please," Blaine said eagerly.

Kurt handed him a beater and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "So is it good?" he asked. "The cake, I mean."

"Uh-huh," Blaine said. He watched Kurt lick the beater, his tongue working around the curves.

"I usually only bake when I'm upset or stressed out," Kurt said between licks.


"I made strawberry cupcakes before regionals last year," Kurt said. "A double batch. Somehow I managed to eat almost all of them."


"I spent all night throwing up. It's a miracle I even made it to regionals," Kurt said, still lazily lapping at the beater.


Kurt set down the beater and Blaine frowned in disappointment. "Blaine, I am talking about throwing up, and you're still staring at me like…like I'm a piece of strawberry cake," he said.

"I can't help it," Blaine protested. "You keep…keep making out with that beater in front of me."

Kurt smiled wickedly. A drop of batter still clung to the corner of his mouth. "Jealous, are we?" he said loftily.

Blaine dropped his beater in the mixing bowl. "Perhaps I am," he said just as loftily. He took a step towards Kurt. "Perhaps I should fight for your honor."

"Blaine, my virtue is not being sullied by a beater covered in cake batter," Kurt said.

"No, but it's certainly testing my self control," Blaine said. He placed his hands on either side of Kurt's hips, pinning him to the counter, and kissed him softly. Kurt's arms were caught between their chests, the beater still in his hands.

Blaine kissed him thoroughly, tasting the strawberry on Kurt's lips. Kurt sighed into his mouth, the beater falling from his fingers. Blaine caught it neatly and dropped it back in the bowl, never breaking the kiss, then slid his hands under Kurt's thighs and hoisted him onto the kitchen counter. Kurt squeaked, grabbing onto Blaine's shoulders to keep from falling, and locked his legs around Kurt's waist.

"So what do you think?" Blaine whispered between kisses. "Am I better than the beater?"

"Uh-huh," Kurt whispered back, his arms wrapping around Blaine's neck and his fingers tangling in his hair. Blaine pressed his hands against the small of Kurt's back and pulled him closer, thumbs tucked against the waistband of his tight jeans.

Kurt kissed him eagerly. Blaine rubbed his thumb against the soft skin of Kurt's back, distracting him enough to take back control, trailing the tip of his tongue lightly against the warm curve of Kurt's lips. Kurt opened his mouth eagerly, his fingers rubbing through Blaine's dark curls.

"I could do this all day," Blaine murmured, sliding his hand up the back of Kurt's shirt.

"I can't," Kurt whined, trying to scoot as close to Blaine as he could.

Blaine laughed softly. "I can fix it, babe," he crooned.

He pulled Kurt against him, still kissing him deeply, but he was just beginning to draw Kurt's shirt up when the timer dinged.

"Ooh!" Kurt said, breaking the kiss and straightening. "Cake's ready! Blaine, put me down!"

"But I thought you wanted me to fix it," Blaine protested. He tried to pull Kurt down for another kiss.

Kurt squirmed. "Yes, but burned cake is a total turn off," he said. He drummed his fists on Blaine's shoulders. "Put me down! Put me down, you big lummox!"

"Big lummox, that's a new one," Blaine remarked. He lifted Kurt off the counter and set him carefully on his feet. "All right, fetch your cake."

Kurt grabbed a pair of cheerfully patterned potholders, slid them over his hands, and opened the oven doors, blasting them both with warmth and the scent of freshly baked cake. "See?" Kurt said, holding up a cake pan and beaming. "Isn't it amazing?"

"If it tastes half as good as it smells, I'll probably explode," Blaine said.

He leaned back against the counter and watched Kurt glide around the kitchen, turning the hot cake layers onto wire cooling racks and setting out the pretty glass cake dome. Kurt seemed so effortless, but Blaine knew that if he had been the one working on the cake, it would turn into a crumbly pink disaster.

"Get me the jar of strawberry preserves from the pantry, will you?" Kurt said.

"What's the magic word?" Blaine teased.

Kurt tilted his head back. "Now?"

"No, no," Blaine chided, tapping him on the chin.

Kurt stuck out his lower lip on a pout. "Please?" he said.

"See, was that so hard?" Blaine asked. He found the jar and twisted off the lid before handing it to Kurt.

"Yes," Kurt said. "Yes, it was."

He spooned strawberry preserves over the top of one of the cake layers, the thick jam melting and oozing over the cake. Blaine watched him smooth out a full inch of strawberry over the cake, then carefully place the other layer on top.

"Perfect," Kurt breathed.

"Mm-hm," Blaine said. "Even with flour on clothes and sugar in your hair."

Kurt's hands flew up to his head. "Oh my god, why didn't you tell me?" he said, brushing frantically at his hair.

"Relax," Blaine said. "You're adorable."

Kurt smiled and picked up the spoon he'd used for the strawberry preserves. "Really," he drawled, licking across the spoon. "Am I still adorable?"

"Uh…huh," Blaine said, eyes glued to the spoon and Kurt's tongue.

"Really?" Kurt said.

Blaine shifted his weight. "Yeah," he said.

Kurt grinned, tossed the spoon in the sink, and took hold of Blaine's tie. "Still adorable now?" he said, walking backwards into the living room.

"Maybe not quite the right word choice at this point," Blaine said breathlessly.

Kurt pushed him gently down to the couch. Blaine braced himself. "What about this?" Kurt asked, his cheeks flushing pink again. He straddled Blaine's lap, rising up on his knees. "Still adorable?"

"Uh, yeah, um-" Blaine stammered. Kurt leaned down and kissed him hard, cutting him off; Blaine grabbed him around the waist. He closed his eyes as Kurt kissed him, tasting more like strawberries than ever. His train of thought was beginning to derail.

Kurt pulled away from his mouth, pressing light shivery kisses down Blaine's jaw line and the side of his neck. "Oh, my god," Blaine mumbled, his hands gripping the waistband of Kurt's jeans. "Oh, my god, you should totally bake more often."

"This is why you need to learn," Kurt murmured into the side of Blaine's neck.

"Um," Blaine shivered as Kurt buried his face in his collar and kissed his shoulder, twining his hands in his tie. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I should, 'cause if you…unf."

Kurt sank down on Blaine's lap, brushing up against him. "Hm, I really should do this more often," he murmured in a husky voice.

"Oh, god," Blaine groaned, pulling him closer. "You smell like cake. You smell like cake and you taste like strawberries and…oh, god, you feel good…."

"You are melting," Kurt giggled.

"It's kind of hard not too," Blaine gasped.

"Well, in that case, I-"

The front door swung open. Kurt scrambled off of Blaine's lap with more speed than he thought possible and plunked down on the other end of the couch. "Hey, Kurt, I'm home," Finn shouted, dumping his backpack and football bag on the floor by the door. "Oh. There you are. Hey, Kurt. Hey, Blaine."

Blaine crossed his legs and straightened his tie. "Hey, Finn," he said pleasantly. "How was football practice?"

"Uh, yeah, it was just practice," Finn shrugged. He kicked off his sneakers and plunked down between them on the couch. "What are you guys doing?"

"Studying," Kurt said firmly. He ran his fingers nervously through his mussed hair. "For a test."

"Oh, that's cool," Finn said. He sat up and breathed deeply. "Oh my god. Cake! Is that cake? I totally want cake."

"No!" Kurt exclaimed before Finn could get up. "No, um, it's not frosted yet. We'll get you a piece once we've frosted it, okay?"

"Okay," Finn said. "With a glass of milk?"

"Yes, sure," Kurt said. "Go…go clean your side of the room, okay? It's gross."

"But Kurt-" Finn whined.

"No clean, no cake," Kurt said firmly.

"Fine," Finn grumbled, pushing himself off the couch and plodding down the basement stairs.

Kurt held his hand out to Blaine. "Come on," he said. "Let's go make some ganache."

Blaine shifted awkwardly on the couch. "But Kurt," he whined.

"Chocolate ganache," Kurt singsonged. He squeezed Blaine's hand and laced his slender fingers through his. "I'll let you lick the spoon."

"Well…" Blaine hesitated.

"And don't you remember the laundry room is right next to the kitchen?" Kurt pointed out, arching an eyebrow. "With a door…that we can close…."

"Sounds good to me," Blaine said. He got up from the couch, catching Kurt around the waist. "But really, let's not draw this out too long."

Kurt laughed, still squeezing Blaine's hand, and tugged him back into the kitchen.

Author's Notes:


Seriously, though. Klaine. And cake. And...makey-outy-ness.

It's fun writing them as boyfriends. I'm just scared of putting Blaine in the "boy" category and Kurt in the "girl" category. I really hope I didn't write them as "straight-relationship-but-just-with-two-boys." That's the last thing I want to do.

Also, this cake made me so hungry that I went out and baked it. And then devoured it. And it was DELICIOUS.

So yes. Please enjoy gratuitous cakey-Klaine goodness. And thank Mikka for it, because she's the one who asked for it (and then pestered me for five days to write it...)