The dingy NYC apartment is dark when Kurt gets home, later than he normally does. A few extra hours at work (hours he honestly needs) shouldn't do so much to disrupt their schedule, but somehow it does. Kurt hangs up his coat, sets his bag down on the chair and leaves the keys on the kitchen counter. He yawns, exhausted down to his bones. Living in New York, living alone with his boyfriend for the first time, is hard, harder than either of them had expected.
Ever since moving in a few weeks ago, the schedule had been the same in one aspect - they always waited up no matter how late the other had to stay at work, just to be able to fall asleep together, and then in the morning wake up in the other's arms, because they can, because they've come so far and they've earned it. Tonight, the lights are already out, and Kurt assumes that Blaine is already in bed. It's not a big deal, all in all, but it had been a long hard day and… he just needs his Blaine.
He starts toward their shared bedroom but freezes when he hears a soft snore, too close by to be coming from anywhere but the tiny living room. "Blaine?" he whispers. There's no answer, but when he turns on the dim yellow-y light Blaine is laying on the couch, in what can't possibly be comfortable position, a book laying open across his chest.
Kurt kneels on the floor, reaching out to brush a stray curl of hair from his boyfriend's face. "Blaine," he says, a little louder this time. Blaine blinks, his eyes slowly focusing on Kurt's face, and he smiles sleepily.
"Hi," he says. His voice is still hoarse from sleep. The poor thing looks just as exhausted as Kurt feels, both of them worked to the bone just to pay the rent here.
"Hi," says Kurt, smiling back at him fondly. He continues to stroke Blaine's hair, just because. "Why are you on the couch, sweetheart?"
Blaine's eyes drift shut again. He's still half asleep, maybe not even aware he's not dreaming. "Waiting for you." He smiles even wider than before as he drifts back into sleep, and Kurt knows he should wake Blaine up and make him move to the bed even if it's not much softer than this lumpy couch. He doesn't. Instead he disappears into their room to slip on his pajamas, and then, as quietly as possible, lays down on the couch with his head pillowed on his boyfriend's chest. He's so tired that he barely has the energy to pull a blanket over them. Just as he falls asleep he feels Blaine's strong arms around him, feels Blaine press a kiss to the top of his head, and sighs. He finally feels content.
Living in New York is harder than they ever thought it would be, but there are little things that make it worth it.