Soft humming came from the kitchen as Blaine opened the door to his and Kurt's apartment. It was something old, a show tune probably, that sounded sweet flowing from Kurt's lips. Blaine rounded the corner and saw his boy, leaning slightly against the counter, stirring something in the pan on the stove. He came up behind him and wrapped him arms around his waist, earning a slight jump from the porcelain angel.

'Blaine! I didn't hear you come in,' he said, smiling sweetly.

'Yeah, well Amanda is sick so I didn't have to teach late today.'

Blaine had taken up teaching piano lessons to kids for some money while he was at NYU. Kurt was busy with Broadway and rehearsals for his three Broadway shows he had on at the moment. It was great that things had worked out between them, and they both had their dreams (or most of them) come true, but a little more time together would be nice. They ate dinner and breakfast together most of the time, but apart from that and sleeping together (where they actually slept, due to exhaustion, oh the insanity), nothing else happened. Well, Blaine intended to change that.

'What you making?' Blaine asked, squeezing Kurt tighter and burrowing his face into his neck.

Kurt giggled. 'Just pasta. It's got the meaty sauce that you like. You know, the uh, the… the meaty one. I forgot the name.'

'You're too cute. And I love the meaty pasta. Can I help?'

'Blaine,' Kurt stopped stirring and fixed him with a disapproving glare, 'remember that time you tried to make me breakfast in bed? The bacon was on the ceiling. The ceiling, Blaine.'

'I'm sorry Kurtyyy. I was just trying to make you happy. Not my fault I'm a bad cook,' Blaine whined.

He shot Kurt his best puppy dog face, knowing it would make Kurt's heart melt. And of course, his plan, or, well, pout, worked.

'Okay okay. Well, I know you can bake cookies. You made sugar cookies for Christmas when Finn and Rachel visited. And those weird English biscuits, the ones you were adamant were in the second Harry Potter movie. Blaine, how do you get so obsessed over something that you can pick out what kind of biscuits there were on the table in the movie just by looking at them?'

'I don't know. I just… wait cookies! YES!'

Blaine jumped off of Kurt as if electrocuted, and set about getting various bowls and ingredients. Kurt merely watched his fiancée in awe, an admiring look on his face as he continued to stir the meaty pasta sauce.

'Kurt, when are we gonna eat the cookies? I think we should eat them for desert. And we could have them with ice cream. Or like, chocolate sprinkles.'

'Whatever makes you happy Blaineybear.'

There was a long pause as they each busied themselves over their respective dishes. Then Blaine broke it.

'I like that.'

'Like what?' Kurt asked, putting the final touches on the meat before leaving it to simmer.

'When you call me pet names. It's cute. And it makes me feel… safe. I don't know. Just… reminds me that you love me and we're together and I'm so happy,' Blaine was beaming at Kurt, so joyful there were the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

Kurt felt his heart leap into his throat for the third time that night (the first when Blaine had arrived, and the second when he had been so excited about the cookies). He crossed the kitchen quickly and just about crashed his lips into Blaine's. It was sweet and searching, not hot exactly, but sensual. Intimate. Practiced. They finally broke apart, foreheads resting together.

'I know I'm meant to be able to make cookies and biscuits and stuff. But can you help me? Because you're the best cook I know,' Blaine winked.

'Flattery will get you everywhere, baby,' Kurt winked back, tacking on the pet name for Blaine's benefit.

He stepped over to the huge bowl of sugar cookie batter on the counter, mixing it absently with the wooden spoon.

'Do you want me to make them into the circles? Looks like you did a good job with the mixture, but you never could draw perfect circles.'

'Hey! Triangles are more my thing anyway,' Blaine replied, cutting across to wrap his arms around Kurt once more as he made circles with the batter on the tray.

This worked until Kurt wanted to clean up and start making rectangles with the biscuits.

'Are you going to let go anytime soon, little koala?' he teased, poking Blaine in the ribs.

'Nup. And don't do that, you know I'm ticklish.'

'Then I'll tickle you off me.'

A gasp, 'You wouldn't.'

'You know I would.'

'Nooooooooooo Kurtyyyyyyyyyyy noooooooooooo,' Blaine shouted and screamed as Kurt tickled him mercilessly, the rectangle biscuits forgotten.

Somehow they ended up on the kitchen floor, Blaine pinned firmly under Kurt. Blaine leaned in slowly; puckering his lips ridiculously, and was met with a tiny peck on the nose from Kurt. Then Kurt jumped up like a jack in the box, and set about delegating the final biscuits their rows.

Then he turned to Blaine, hands on his hips, 'Are you going to get up and put them all in the oven?'

'No. I'm depressed. You defeated me. And you didn't even get to have your victory kiss. Now I'm sad.'

Blaine lay on the ground like a log, his arms over his eyes. Kurt rolled his and swiped some mixture of the edge of the bowl with his finger.

'I'll let you lick the bowl.'

Blaine was up in an instant, almost overbalancing and having to brace himself on the counter. Then he had to brace himself again when he saw Kurt had beaten him to the bowl.

Kurt had the finger he had used to swipe the mixture off in his mouth, his eyes shut and his lips moving deliciously slow over that pointer. He then tortured Blaine further, letting out a guttural moan around the finger, twisting it slightly to get all the cookie batter off.

'You always did make the best cookies, Blaine,' he smirked when he was done.

When Blaine had regained his composure he made his way over to the same bowl, dragged his whole hand across the inside, collecting as much of the mixture as he possibly could, and raised it to his lips. When he moved to lick it off though, Kurt swatted it away and grabbed the wrist, moving it to his own mouth.

He licked up and down the hand, a little faster than his own finger, until he was almost lapping it up. Blaine let out a noise between a giggle and a moan and Kurt stopped.

'Why so funny, babe?'

'It tickles. And you kind of look like a kitten.'

At this Kurt raised a perfectly curved eyebrow.

'A very cute kitten! Like, the cutest darn kitten I've ever seen!' Blaine smiled sheepishly.

'Nice save, Blainers,' Kurt smirked again, finishing off the hand and kissing the tips of each finger.

Soon, by Blaine's definition of a 'fun game', their palms were coated in cookie batter and their fingers in the biscuit mixture, then they would swap batters without each other knowing, and by way of licking it off each other, have to guess which mixture was on the hand, and which the finger.

They were having such a great time playing their 'Cookie Hands and Biscuit Fingers' game that neither of them smelt burning pasta sauce.

'Blaine!' Kurt started, pulling his finger out of Blaine's mouth with a pop, 'the pasta!'

'What about the pasta?' Blaine whined before sniffing the air, 'hey, what's that smell?'

Blaine turned to find Kurt switching off the stove and waving his hands in the air frantically to disperse the smoke.

'The pasta burned. Quite badly actually,' he said when he was done; looking sad that Blaine's favourite meal couldn't be eaten tonight.

Then there was a ding from the oven, letting them know the sweet things were ready.

'Well, I know what we could eat instead,' Blaine looked like a kid on his birthday.

'No. Uh uh. I am not having biscuits for dinner. No Blaine. Do you know how unhealthy that is? No.'

And there it was again. The Blaine Puppy Dog Pout.

That was how they ended up sitting on the couch, Kurt cuddled up into Blaine's side, Blaine nestling Kurt in his arms, munching on sugar cookies and British biscuits.

'You know what? I think I like this better than the pasta,' Kurt admitted, turning his head to smile adorably at Blaine.

'Yeah. I like this better than anything in the whole wide world,' Blaine said happily, before swooping down for a kiss.

'And Blaineybear cutie-pie darling angel sweetie snookums?'

'Yes Kurt?'

'You are a very good cook.'