Author's Note: So it's only taken me three months of stalking all of the Klaine fanfiction on this site to actually get off my lazy ass and write some myself. Hopefully it didn't turn out too awful. I'm going through a little patch of loving all of the future Klaine, hence this.

Disclaimer: This is going to shock you all, I can tell: I don't own Glee.

Summary: Blaine and Kurt are trying to work their way through college, just living one day at a time. But sometimes Kurt just wishes they had a little more.


Kurt stared in distaste at the washing machine. Once again, it was leaking soapy water from the edges of the door that had been shoddily resealed just last week. With a groan, he grabbed a dish cloth and attempted to plug the gaps with the fabric but the suds continued to drip onto the dirty laminate floor. He dropped the cloth to the floor and positioned it with his foot under the broken machine, before turning on his heel and walking out of the small utility room.

He tried to ignore the random piles of shoes that hadn't been put away out of laziness and dirty plates from dinner last night, instead focusing on finding his phone which he had been using just before he decided to do some laundry. It was buried between the moss green couch cushions, where Kurt had been attempting to finish off his latest sketches for class. They weren't anywhere near his usual standard, but he had accidentally left his art pencils on a bus and still hadn't managed to save up the money to replace them, so he was stuck using the left over stubs that he had found buried at the bottom of the stationary drawer.

Strange clanking noises from the utility room brought him back to the situation at hand and he flipped open his phone, ignoring the 1 New Message alert that popped up.

Instead, he scrolled down the contacts list and hit call.

It was answered on the second ring. "Kurt?"

"Hey," he sighed, sitting gingerly on the couch – avoiding crushing the pristine sheets of paper with his pencil sketches on them.

"Is everything okay? You didn't answer my text..." The voice on the other end sounded worried.

Kurt winced as a particularly loud cracking noise, followed by a hiss and then silence, reverberated from the other room.

"The washing machine's packed up again. I don't think the sealing job you did last week was particularly effective. And the clothes we need to wear for Mercedes' party need to be cleaned."

"Can't you take them to the launderette? I'm kind of busy here..."

"Blaine, we can't afford to do anything apart from buy food at the moment," Kurt said. "We've got some tools buried somewhere, can't you just come and fix it quickly?"

"Kurt, work starts in five minutes, I'm not going to make it home and back in time: my boss hates it when I turn up late."

"Please?"

There was a small pause and then a sigh on the other end of the line. "Fine. I'll be over as soon as I can."

"Yay!" Kurt squeaked. "Bye."

"Bye," Blaine replied before hanging up the phone.

Kurt, suddenly in a much better mood now that he knew he would have clean clothes to wear to Mercedes' party, grabbed his sketches back and began drawing contentedly. He was so immersed in his work that he barely registered Blaine entering until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and turned around in the seat, looking up at Blaine's tired face.

"Hey," Kurt greeted softly.

Blaine smiled slightly in response, before walking in the utility room, saying over his shoulder, "So what's it doing this time?"

"Oh, the same thing as last time. I think that the tape you used has peeled off again, hence the leaking everywhere."

Kurt carefully sidestepped around Blaine, who was crouching in front of the machine with his thinking expression on, and perched on the small counter that ran the short length of the wall.

Blaine grimaced as he turned the machine off to allow the water inside to drain away and grabbed the duct tape that was left out from last week.

Kurt frowned.

"Can't you at least try and fix it?" he asked, somewhat grumpily.

Blaine looked up. "This'll do the job."

"Yeah, temporarily. Until next week, when you have to miss work again to sort out the leaking. I'm sure we have some proper tools around here somewhere from when you redid the bathroom."

But as he jumped off the countertop to have a look for said items, Blaine was layering the silver tape around the inner face of the machine – covering over the remnants of his last attempt.

"That's not fixing it," Kurt complained.

"It's fine, Kurt," Blaine sighed, pushing the door shut and fingering the edges to make sure that he hadn't missed a spot.

"No matter how many times you tape it, it's going to stay broken."

As Kurt moaned about the inadequacy of the repair, a curl of black hair dropped limply in front of Blaine's eyes and he absentmindedly pushed it back. Kurt paused to realise just how tired Blaine looked. There were shadows under his eyes from too much work and too little sleep and there was a crease between his eyebrows that seemed permanently etched nowadays.

Life in New York didn't exactly match up to the dreams that Kurt had had in Lima. Sure, the fashion design course that he was on was excellent and he was sure to excel in the world of clothes, but they weren't living in the penthouse apartment he'd always desired. Instead, he and Blaine struggled through their debts by working in coffee shops and malls and restaurants and anywhere that would give them a job around the college courses. It definitely wasn't his idea of the ideal life – especially when the bills seemed to pile up so high that he had to ignore his constant need for the latest designer labels.

"It'll come off in a day," Kurt warned, mopping up the remnants of the soapy water that the hastily placed towel hadn't caught.

"Well you said that we only need clothes for tonight, so finish this wash and I'll seal it properly another day."

Kurt threw the damp rag onto the counter and stood up to glare at Blaine, who had his back turned while he reset the wash.

"That's what you said last weekend and it still isn't done!"

Blaine turned and frowned at Kurt. "I was working last weekend – trying to earn enough money to pay off the bills so that we could afford some new furniture."

"So was I, and I still managed to cook dinner for you while you watched the TV for an hour when you could have been doing something useful."

"Hey, I offered to help but you told me to relax! You know that I would have done anything you wanted me to. What's wrong with you today?"

"What's wrong?" Kurt repeated, his voice flying up in octave in disbelief. "This is wrong! This crappy apartment where everything is always broken in some way or another is wrong. Us struggling through college life while Mercedes and Rachel are out there being stars is wrong. And the fact that nothing ever goes right in my life is just wrong!"

Kurt – aware that he hands were coated in dust and dirt from holding the dirty towel – stormed into the kitchen, closely followed by Blaine.

"Kurt, honey, I know that this lifestyle isn't what you want," Blaine soothed, "but in two years you'll be a famous fashion designer with loads of flunkies whose job is specifically to make your life easier and I'll be heading an extremely successful record label and we'll be blowing all of your old friends out of the water. We just need to wait."

"And why would that happen? Nothing ever goes how it should."

Kurt almost screamed in frustration as he turned on the tap a bit too violently and the top snapped off, sending a jet of water squirting upwards. Blaine rushed forward and put his hands over the fountain of water while Kurt desperately spun the tap off again.

There was a moment of silence before Blaine – who was dripping wet from his attempt to stem the flow – began laughing. Kurt was torn between the desire to punch a wall and burst into hysterics with Blaine.

"This isn't funny," he mumbled while Blaine doubled over, clutching his chest. Kurt nudged him with his foot. "Go on, you've got work."

Blaine straightened up, a smile still playing on the corner of his lips and shook his head. "Goodbye hug?"

Kurt backed away, glaring. "No. No, no, no. You're wet."

"I know."

"Blaine..." Kurt warned. "Don't touch me."

But it was too late; Blaine's arms had wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against the shorter boy. Water was dripping off of Blaine's curls and down onto Kurt's nice shirt – one of his favourites. However before Kurt could open his mouth to complain, Blaine was leaning forward and pressing his lips into Kurt's.

Kurt hummed in pleasure at first, but then jerked his head back and tried to put a convincing glare onto his face.

"Nuh uh. You aren't getting off that easily. I'm mad at you."

"Baby..." Blaine moaned, pulling Kurt impossibly closer. Kurt felt his shirt absorbing the water and he grimaced in distaste.

"No, no, no! Let me go. I have an assignment to finish and work to go to."

Kurt shivered as Blaine gently bit down on his earlobe, and then whispered, "So do I. Let's skip."

"You're still wet, get off."

Blaine didn't even attempt to formulate an argument; instead, he pulled Kurt sharply downwards so the two landed in a heap on the floor. Kurt squeaked indignantly and tried to push away from Blaine, but the strong arms that were wrapped around his waist held him firmly to the ground.

Kurt's protests grew weaker as Blaine's lips pressed against his collarbone and then began working their way further up until they were once again on his own. Blaine's tongue slid into Kurt's mouth effortlessly, their two bodies entwined on the dingy carpet.

"I love you," Blaine breathed.

Kurt freed his arms from where they were trapped between his and Blaine's chests and wrapped his fingers into Blaine's damp hair, pulling his boyfriend back in for another desperate, urgent kiss.

"I love you too," he answered, the passion that was roaring through his body audible through the four words.

Nothing else needed to be said – no apologies or explanations – and the brief dispute was already forgotten as Kurt rolled over to position himself on top of Blaine, pinning the shorter boy to the ground and ravishing his mouth. Blaine's hands rested on the small of Kurt's back as he allowed Kurt to gently tease his bottom lip with his tongue.

"You are adorable," Kurt giggled as Blaine swiped his wet fingertips across Kurt's hairline. Small droplets of water began trailing down his forehead which Blaine leant up to gently kiss away. He sighed, "And you have to go to work."

"Well, I would go," Blaine said, tracing his hands down from Kurt's shoulders to his hips, "but, you see, there is this extremely sexy man who has pinned me to my kitchen floor. And I just can't bring myself to push him off."

Kurt gave Blaine a closed mouth kiss before standing up again, pulling his boyfriend to his feet. Blaine groaned and put on his best puppy eyes.

"That's not going to work," Kurt said, doing his best to ignore the almost irresistible expression. "You've got to earn some money and I need to finish my sketches for class."

Blaine pouted. Kurt laughed and tugged on his curls, bringing his face close for another loving kiss.

"Go," he ordered, physically pushing Blaine towards the door.

Finally obeying the commands, Blaine moved away, stopping to look at the incomplete designs that Kurt had been working on. He turned to look at Kurt – who was leaning against the door frame to the kitchen – with a small, smug smile.

A hesitant look appeared on Kurt's face. "What?"

"Forget waiting for two years for you to get a job as a fashion designer. You're already better than everyone else."

As ever, the compliments made Kurt grin and his cheeks flush an embarrassing shade of pink. Blaine smiled at his gorgeous boyfriend before blowing him a kiss and hurrying out of the door.

Kurt stayed leaning against the frame for a few moments, reminiscing on how Blaine always managed to make him feel better – no matter how miserable he was.

Suddenly the apartment didn't seem so cramped and ugly to Kurt. Sure, it was hardly the pinnacle of excellent interior design but it homely and obviously well lived in. The mess was organised instead of chaotic and it would be very easy to just tidy away when it got annoying. And, no matter how much he wanted to succeed in life, he would always be happy and content with everything in his life if Blaine was by his side to point out all of the good things.

He collapsed on the couch with a ridiculously big smile on his face, which only widened when he read the text that Blaine had sent him earlier.

We'll be living the dream soon. Remember, honey: Courage.