November 9th, 2011

Kurt could feel someone's eyes on him even before he opened them. Keeping his eyes closed, he shifted slightly, drawing a knee closer to his chest and moving his arm by just a fraction. He smiled to himself as he felt the circle of Blaine's arms readjust around him, taking his every movement into account.

He took a deep breath, feeling Blaine's chest pressed against his back. He pulled the sheets closer around him, snuggling closer. Taking a deep breath through the nose, Kurt allowed himself to drown in the delectable scent that was Blaine. It was spicy, musky, inimitable. It made him feel at home. And lying here in Blaine's bed, he felt more at home than ever. He didn't want to break the comfortable silence.

"I know you're awake," Blaine murmured from behind him.

Kurt couldn't help but love the way he could feel each breath and syllable and the way it reverberated through Blaine's body. It was a soft, low humming that pulsated across the surface of their joined skin.

Blaine was pressing soft, lazy kisses to the back of Kurt's neck, occasionally nipping at his ear and nuzzling the skin with his nose.

"I am," Kurt replied. "But I don't want to move."

Suddenly he felt Blaine getting out of the bed.

"Wait," Kurt whined, reaching his arm out behind him only to feel empty space. "I didn't mean for you to move. Get back here."

"Scoot over," Blaine ordered.

He had come around to the opposite side of the bed and was now getting in next to Kurt so that they were facing one another.

Kurt blinked, eyelids heavy with sleep. He felt Blaine's fingers slip through his own, squeezing his fingertips lightly as they did so.

"Good morning," Blaine murmured, a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

Kurt smiled back. "Good morning."

Blaine's free hand reached out, his thumb tracing Kurt's cheekbone. He leaned in and gave Kurt the most impossibly sweet, tender kiss. Kurt sighed contentedly, shifting closer to press his lips more firmly against Blaine's. His boyfriend's leg was hitched over his own and he could feel it tense up as he parted his lips. Blaine let out a barely-audible moan as Kurt's tongue traced the edges of his lips lightly before covering it with his own. Kurt drew in a sharp breath as Blaine sucked on his tongue so unhurriedly that it made his toes curl.

Kurt was the one to pull away, pressing his forehead against Blaine's and just breathing him in, his own hand braced on Blaine's shoulder. He bit his lip as he listened to the soft symphony of their synonymous breaths, how they gradually slowed down at the same rate, as if they were one person.

"I could get used to this," Kurt mumbled.

Blaine chuckled, "So could I."

He licked his lips and stared into Kurt's eyes, neither of them speaking again. It was understood that they were both remembering the previous night; that much was obvious by their shining irises and not-so-secretive smiles. Kurt moved in closer, caressing Blaine's calf with his toes; gently, slowly tantalizing. He felt Blaine shudder in his arms, gaze occasionally flickering down to Kurt's lips, his jaw, his bare chest.

Kurt moved his hand from Blaine's shoulder to trace the lines of his chest, of his arms, until finally reaching his fingers. Their palms hovered over one another, the fingertips barely grazing each other as they slowly intertwined together in their familiar grasp.

"So I can check this off the list then," Kurt mused aloud.

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. "What list?"

"My bucket list," Kurt replied. "Number fifteen – Wake up next to the person I love."

Without waiting for a reply from Blaine, Kurt leaned forward and captured his lips in a second, slightly steamier kiss. He felt a sense of self-satisfaction when he heard Blaine groan into his mouth and felt him tilt his head to offer Kurt more control. Kurt pressed their connected hands to Blaine's chest as he allowed his teeth to rake lightly over Blaine's bottom lip. Blaine's knee was between his legs, rubbing oh-so-surreptitiously against Kurt's inner thighs. Kurt loved the noises they made together – the sighs, the sound of their limbs moving against the bedding, the quiet noise of skin on skin, the way their lips joined and parted from one another.

He pressed one final kiss to Blaine's lips before drawing back.

"Check," he said.

Blaine beamed at him, stroking the hair that curled just over the edges of Kurt's ears, brushing it away from his face.

"Anything else on this list I can help out with?" he teased.

Kurt seemed to consider it for a moment. "Probably not. But let's look anyways."

He quirked an eyebrow before propping himself up on an elbow and reaching over Blaine towards the bedside table. Doing so proved a much more difficult task than he'd originally thought. His fingertips barely scraped the edge of the tabletop. Disappointed, but not defeated, Kurt hitched a leg over Blaine's hips, settling himself atop his boyfriend so that he could easily reach over and snatch up the phone.

As he directed himself to the bucket list, he felt Blaine's hands resting lightly on his thighs, thumbs rubbing lightly against the skin. Kurt sat back, scrolling through the list, reading a few items to himself.

"Most of these will probably never happen," he admitted. "But they're fun to think about."

"Like what?" Blaine asked, amused by his boyfriend's enthusiasm.

"Okay like this one," Kurt said, pausing mid-scroll. "Find a cure for cancer."

"Of course," Blaine agreed.

Kurt giggled to himself. "Be on a billboard of my choice." He scrolled down a little further. "Star in a movie with Meryl Streep and in another with Heath Ledger."

"Well…"

"Shhh," Kurt said, pressing a finger to Blaine's lips. "He lives on through his films." He looked back to his phone. "Ah. Here's a good one. Become a neurosurgeon."

"You'd look adorable in scrubs," Blaine consented.

"It might sound silly, but I like putting things on this list that I know I can't achieve. It's like I'm daring myself to live life to the fullest," Kurt pondered aloud.

"May I?" Blaine asked politely, holding a palm out.

Kurt smiled. "Certainly."

He loved how Blaine always asked permission, never took as if what was Kurt's automatically belonged to him. He placed the phone in Blaine's hand before lying back down next to him.

Blaine scrolled through the list, laughing occasionally at a few items.

"Kurt…" he began. "A lot of these are do-able. Why haven't you started on them yet?"

Kurt pulled the blankets up to his chin, giving it some serious thought. "I guess because we're so young. I mean, we're still in school, we never have any free time. Plus I wouldn't want to just spring any of these on you."

"You said 'we.'" Blaine observed.

Kurt blushed. "Well, yeah. I mean, if I want to start crossing things off my bucket list, the only person I could go through half of these things with is you, Blaine."

There was a pause as they let his words sink in.

"Let's do it," Blaine said. "Let's get rid of some of these things on your bucket list so that you have room to put on new things."

"No, we couldn't…" Kurt argued.

"Why not?" Blaine asked. He turned over so that he was looking Kurt in the eyes. "Look, people create lists like these all the time and they never do half of the things they want to. They think that a bucket list is for far in the future when they're older and just have endless time and go on a bunch of adventures. Well, newsflash, you're never going to have enough time. From this point on in our lives we're only going to get busier. So let's live a little, do stupid things. Come on, it'll be fun."

"I don't know…"

"Don't wait until it's too late, Kurt," Blaine told him. "What if you were to die tomorrow? Would you have accomplished everything you wanted to? What if you were to – heaven forbid – contract a fatal disease, or what if you inherit your dad's heart problems? You don't have infinite time, you know? What if you have fewer days than you think you do?"

"Blaine…"

"I just…" Blaine took a deep breath. "I just want us to do as much as we can together and I want to live in the now. Not in the future – not in the plausible. Right now, while we can. Let's just go for it – even if we only make fools out of ourselves."

There was a silence as Kurt considered it. He kept looking from Blaine to the phone, then back again. "…Maybe some of these things are do-able," he relented.

"And they'll make for some great dates," Blaine teased.

Kurt smiled. "Do you really think so?"

"I know so," Blaine responded, pressing a light kiss to Kurt's nose. He handed the phone back.

"Well, geez," Kurt said. "I don't even know where to begin."

"I do," Blaine said with a smile. "Number 22."


#22. Make Up a Recipe


"Okay, I'm just going to say it," Kurt blurted out as he put on the apron Blaine had tossed him. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Me either," Blaine replied. "Just go with it."

The pair were in Blaine's kitchen, which was unreasonably huge, considering no one Kurt knew of actually cooked in it. Blaine had informed him that it was "all for show", but it still took his breath away all the same. The countertops were black granite marble, smooth to the touch without a mark on them (that, Kurt knew, was about to be quickly remedied). Every appliance was stainless steel, shimmering almost menacingly in the light emitting from the small crystal chandelier hanging over the island in the center of the kitchen.

Blaine was perched on a stool on one side of the island, looking incredibly handsome in a black shirt and dark denim jeans beneath an apron of his own. He was flipping through a cook book with an adorably confused expression on his face. In preparation for the evening, he'd pulled every single kitchen appliance he could find from the drawers and cabinets along with every raw ingredient available.

Kurt was currently taking inventory of the ingredients, sneaking a chocolate chip every now and then as he did so.

"This is ridiculous," he proclaimed. "All we're going to end up doing is making a huge mess." When he saw Blaine reading the cook book he tisked aloud. "No no no," he said, going over and prying the book away from Blaine. "The point of this exercise is not to follow any known recipe."

"Not even as a…guideline?" Blaine asked.

"Not even as a guideline," Kurt echoed, pressing a quick kiss to Blaine's surprised lips.

"Alright," Blaine said, getting up and taking action. "First, the vital question: entrée or dessert?"

Kurt bit his nails nervously. He knew he'd regret it once he got home and got a good look at his nail beds.

"Dessert," he decided at last. "I'm no aspiring chef, I could never make a main dish if my life depended on it." He put his hands on his hips. "But baking – there's something I can fake."

"Well that shouldn't be too hard, right?" Blaine asked. "We can just throw a bunch of sweet stuff in a bowl, mix it together, and call it a night." He didn't sound too hopeful. "Right?"

"You keep thinking that, honey," Kurt replied as he rolled up the sleeves of his brown shirt up to his elbows. "Alright, every good baked food needs flour," he declared.

Blaine handed him the bag of flour. "The question is how much?"

"And what a good question that is…" Kurt stalled, the measuring cup in his hand poised over the bag opening. "Oh what the hell," he declared after a moment, picking up the bag and dumping a good third of its contents into the big bowl.

Blaine laughed at him, which got him a well-deserved pinch of flour to the face.

"Eggs," Kurt ordered.

Blaine returned from the fridge with a carton of eggs. Together, they cracked five or six eggs on the edge of the bowl, the sticky shells discarded on the previously clean countertop.

"Sugar," Blaine chimed in.

They exchanged a look before racing for the bag of sugar on the opposite countertop. Kurt reached it first, pumping his fist in the air triumphantly.

"Ha!" he cried.

Blaine, one step ahead of him, raced back to the bowl, snatching it up off the counter and positioning himself on the other side of the island, using it as a barrier.

"Can't put the sugar in the bowl if you don't have the bowl," he goaded.

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt warned. "Get back here or else there will be sugar in those fermented curls on your head."

"I will, if you consider a treaty," Blaine announced.

"What are the terms of this 'treaty'?" Kurt asked, his hand already in the bag of sugar.

Blaine considered for a moment. "The bowl. The bowl for a kiss," he said.

Kurt pretended to mull it over, tilting his head from side to side as if contemplating the pros and cons of the situation.

"Well, I guess those are pretty good terms," he allowed. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," Blaine repeated, coming back aground the island with the bowl. He set it on the counter gingerly.

Kurt began to lean in, a smirk on his face.

"You'd better make it a good one," Blaine teased.

"As if there were any other kind," he replied.

"I guess there isn't," Blaine murmured as he closed the gap.

The heat Kurt felt in the pit of his stomach was very different from the warmth exuding from the preheating oven nearby. He took a step closer, pressing their aproned chests flush together with a bang. Blaine opened his mouth wider, allowing Kurt inside. He complied, his heart skipping a beat when their tongues met. Blaine's hand was pressed against the small of his back, the other on Kurt's waist, his fingertips meeting soft flesh where Kurt's shirt had ridden up slightly in the back.

Kurt moved his hand into Blaine's hair, his sugar-coated fingers intertwining in those curls he'd scorned just a second ago. When Blaine realized what was happening, he pulled away, a shocked expression adorning his face.

"Kurt!" he exclaimed, laughing as he did so. He touched a hand to the back of his head, tiny grains of sugar coming away on his fingertips as he did so. "You…you…fiend."

"Oops," was all Kurt said as he turned back to the bowl and dumped in an ungodly measurement of sugar.

He ignored Blaine's complaints as the boy tried, in vain, to pick the sugar out of his hair. He picked up a whisk and mixed the few ingredients they'd complied thus far. Once there wasn't a lump in sight, he looked at a few other ingredients on the counter, tossing a handful of those nearest into the bowl without looking at what the packages said.

Among the array of foods before him, there were all kinds of candy and snacks. Kurt opened a package of chocolate cookies and smashed them up in his hands, tossing the crushed mess into the bowl along with what appeared to be gummy bears, vanilla extract, peanuts, and pieces of a granola bar.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Blaine asked, still messing with his hair.

"Hush," Kurt reprimanded playfully. "The master is at work."

"Okay," Blaine said skeptically.

Kurt threw in everything from marshmallows, bits of candy bars, hot cocoa powder, and graham crackers to sprinkles, licorice bits, and even some more sugar.

"I'm going to be honest with you," Blaine said, peering into the bowl as he leaned against the counter. "I have no idea what's in there…but I'd eat it."

"Be a good boyfriend and hand me a pan to pour this in, will you?" Kurt asked.

After transferring the gooey, mostly brown mixture into a pan overly-coated with cooking spray, Kurt swiped a finger along the lip of the bowl. He stuck it in his mouth, licking his lips experimentally.

"Well?" Blaine prompted.

"Still too early to tell," he stated dumping the remaining marshmallows over the surface of the substance. "You're welcome to try though."

"I'll just wait for the finished product," Blaine said, placing the soiled bowl into the sink and rinsing it out. "How long are you going to leave it in the oven?"

"Thirty minutes?" Kurt guessed.

"So how do we kill thirty minutes?" Blaine asked as Kurt set the timer on the oven.

"Oh, I don't know," Kurt said mischievously.


"Blaine, I have to go check the oven," Kurt panted. He was already regretting removing himself from Blaine's lips.

"The timer hasn't gone off yet," Blaine murmured, tugging on the strap of Kurt's apron. "You can't miss the beep."

"I don't want to set your house on fire though," Kurt teased.

"Well if you do then I could just live on your couch," Blaine said happily, kissing Kurt's neck in just the right way. Kurt was weakening, that much was for certain.

"Your parents would never forgive me."

"They barely live here as it is," Blaine said, moving to the other side of Kurt's neck.

Kurt tilted his head to the right, exposing more skin for Blaine's tongue to skate across. Blaine's hand was clutching the back of Kurt's head, pulling him closer as his mouth trailed upwards. The second his lips touched Kurt's earlobes, Kurt knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"Two more minutes," he said, giving in.

He grabbed either side of Blaine's face, crashing their lips together in desperate, hungry kisses. Blaine settled back against the pillows of his bed, pulling Kurt back on top of him. Kurt was kissing Blaine's lips, the line of his jaw, the hollow of his throat – whatever skin was closest. He was practically drowning in Blaine – the warmth of his body, his scent surrounding them both in his room, the addictive taste of his mouth. He couldn't get enough. He could never get enough.

Blaine's hands were under Kurt's shirt, stroking his skin with a ghost-like touch, running his fingernails slowly up and down Kurt's back. Up, up, up along the line of his spine, all the way to the nape of his neck, then down, down down, until his fingers were all but going down the waistband of Kurt's jeans. When his fingers did venture beneath said waistband, Kurt knew if he let it go any further, he wouldn't want to stop.

He pulled back, hating that he had to be the responsible one for a change.

"I really, really have to check the oven now," he informed a sullen-looking Blaine.

"Damn, whose idea was this?" the other boy growled.

"Yours," Kurt said, placing one last, long kiss to Blaine's mouth. "Come on," he said at last, getting off the bed and heading toward the door.

"This dish better taste freaking delicious," Blaine called after him before following him back to the kitchen.


"So it's a little burned around the edges," Kurt said with a shrug. "We could just eat from the middle."

"Maybe it's a good thing we're sampling this on an empty stomach," Blaine pointed out, poking the slightly-browned marshmallow topping with his fork.

"Or maybe you're just being too judgmental," Kurt retorted. "It's all about what's on the inside."

"Kurt, we have no idea what is on the inside."

"Good point."

They glanced at one another then back to the goopy surface of the baked concoction. Their forks were poised, ready to break the marshmallow layer.

"On the count of three," Kurt told Blaine, plunging his fork in an getting a decent sized chunk of…whatever it was.

"Alright," the smaller boy agreed, mimicking Kurt and getting some on his fork.

"1…" Kurt began.

"2…"

"3," they said in unison, their mouths closing over the forks.

They both chewed slowly, trying to assess what they'd just put in their mouths. Kurt watched as Blaine's expression went to intrigued, to impressed, then to disgusted all in the span of three seconds.

"I don't know what to think," Kurt admitted, having some trouble chewing his share. He crinkled his nose in distaste. "It's good at first, but then it gets a little…"

"Difficult?" Blaine supplied.

"Strange," Kurt said. "Oh my god, I think I have some bubblegum in mine." He brought a napkin up to his mouth and spat it out.

"It's not my fault," Blaine protested after bravely swallowing his half. "I warned you not to go near that package of Double Bubble."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh. The whole thing was completely ridiculous. He put his fork back on the counter as he doubled over in laughter.

"What's so funny?" Blaine asked, laughing because Kurt's laughter was one-hundred percent infectious.

"Mission accomplished," Kurt gasped.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm crossing this off my list," Kurt said, already scrolling through his phone.

"But that was a disaster. I mean, did you taste it?"

"I said to make up a recipe. I never said it had to be a good one," Kurt pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess," Blaine said. He dipped his fork back into the pan. "What?" he asked, seeing how Kurt was looking at him as if he'd said he enjoyed kicking baby penguins and harassing small children.

Kurt looked pointedly at Blaine's full fork hovering next to his open mouth.

"It's growing on me," Blaine grumbled, taking another bite. "Once you get past the layer of gummy bears and the lingering taste of peanut butter, it's not that horrible."

Kurt just continued watching him, a clearly unconvinced look on his face.

"I'll just…go order Chinese," Blaine said, abandoning the tray to find a phone book.


#43 Build the World's Best Blanket Fort


Kurt positioned the chairs a perfect length apart. He and Blaine had gathered the biggest blankets, quilts, and comforters they could find, all folded neatly on the floor.

"I've never done this before," Blaine admitted.

"I tried once," Kurt said. "It fell in on me. Traumatized me. But I think I'm finally ready to move on and give it the old college try." He chuckled to himself. "Who even came up with that phrase?" He pulled out his phone. "I'm adding it to the list right now. Number 206 - make up my own phrase. It will be spoken generations from now from the lips of children. Just some wacky phrase their grandparents used to say all the time."

Blaine just shook his head. "You can't argue with classic phrases, Kurt. Like 'it's raining cats and dogs' or 'the cat's meow'."

"The cat's meow?" Kurt asked as he and Blaine picked up the couch to move it aside.

"You know, it's like 'the bee's knees'."

"Use it in a sentence," Kurt requested as they moved the crystal coffee table to the corner where it wouldn't get hurt.

"That kid's shoes are the cat's meow."

"You're never allowed to say that again," Kurt declared.

They'd completely rearranged Blaine's living room so there was nothing but open space in the center. Right in front of the television. It was a primo spot, if you asked Kurt. With great difficulty, they managed to move a bookshelf to use as the backing for their fort, the book-side facing into the fort.

They unfolded one of the large, probably expensive blankets and between the two of them they lifted it up and let it gently drape across the span of the chairs and shelf. Two more blankets later and they had a sturdy looking fort.

"It's beautiful," Kurt said, taking a step back to look at their handiwork.

Blaine nodded. "My best work yet. But that's only half the battle. Now we have to figure out what's going inside of it. What will make this fort the best one ever?"

They thought for a second.

"We need food," Kurt announced. "We don't want to be getting in and out of the fort and going to the kitchen, therefore we need some way to store food. At least for a little while."

"I knew there was a reason why I loved you," Blaine teased, putting an arm around Kurt's waist. "We need somewhere to sit," he pointed out. "I know you, and after twenty minutes on this carpet you'll be complaining that you have a slipped disk or something."

"I'm a sensitive person," Kurt defended himself.

Blaine shushed him. "It's okay, I know." He furrowed his brows as he gave it some thought. "Do you think you and I could drag my mattress in there?"

"Wouldn't it have been wiser to do that first then build the fort around it?" Kurt asked.

"We don't do things by the book here."

"You mean we don't do things logically," Kurt taunted him.

"Logical is boring," Blaine said. He gave Kurt's waist a squeeze. "Come on. Let's drag us a mattress in here."


"Mattress," Blaine said.

"Check."

"Cooler for the refrigerated foods."

"Check."

"Pizza."

"Check."

"Other junk food."

"Check."

"Movie selections."

"All accounted for."

"Small lamp."

"The electrical cord almost didn't make it, but check."

"Extra blankets and pillows."

"Gotcha covered."

"Alright, I think we have everything," Blaine said from outside the fort.

Kurt crawled out from under the flap. "Except for you," he said, a devilish glint in his eye.

"Don't you d - "

Kurt had grabbed Blaine by the waist and pulled him down to the floor. Blaine didn't stand a chance in hell. He fell, knees first onto the ground as Kurt pulled him into the fort. They were both laughing as Blaine struggled to get away – though, admittedly, not with enough force to actually get away – as Kurt held him in his arms and pulled him close. They rolled around on the mattress for a while before Kurt gave up and let him go.

Blaine rolled onto his back and looked to the roof of the fort, illuminated by the small lamp in the back corner of the fort. The whites, pinks, blues, and yellows of the cloth were lit up, one overlapping the other and casting a nice hue on the inside of the fort. It was almost like the glow of a fire. Kurt was looking up at the ceiling too, his hand draped casually across Blaine's chest, a leg on top of his leg.

They were always touching. Whether it was their fingertips touching hands, shoulders, or legs, their feet rubbing together under the table as they studied together, or their lips brushing against exposed skin. They were always relaxed about their body space – always touching.

Blaine covered Kurt's hand on his chest with his own, squeezing it gently as they got the last of their giggles out. Kurt snuggled closer as Blaine brought his arm around Kurt's shoulders. They fit together so well; it was without flaw.

"What movie do you want to watch first?" Blaine asked politely. He'd always insist on Kurt choosing what they watched or else the other boy was liable to either fall asleep or try and seduce him.

"I thought we could start with a classic…"

Blaine recognized that excited look in Kurt's eyes. He groaned. "Please, no. We just saw it last week and it's so long. I swear, it goes on for hours and hours and hours…"

Kurt pouted his lips animatedly. "Please, Blaine?" he pretended to beg. "I'll love you forever and ever and ever."

"Well, if I didn't expect you to before, then I certainly will after this," Blaine said, kissing Kurt softly. "The Sound of Music it is."

Kurt clapped to himself. He loved winning.


They spent all afternoon in the fort and well into the night. It truly was a haven in every sense of the word. For once in their lives, it really felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world – no one else existed. There were no nagging text messages, no homework needing to be done, no deadlines, no expectations, no immediate needs other than being with one another for the moment. And the moments seemed to stretch on for days. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like years. There was no proper sense of time when they were with one another like this. They were lost in one another, guarded only by the blanket walls of a well-made fort.

"Okay, okay," Blaine said. "Tell me another one."

"Own my own theme park," Kurt read off. "It'll be called 'Hummel-land'. Like Disneyland only better."

"Better than Disneyland?" Blaine questioned.

"Much better. I haven't figured out how yet, but it's going to be better. And not as expensive."

"You don't just up and create a theme park like Disneyland."

"If good ol' Walt could do it, so can I. I bet you one day when he was a kid he was talking with all his friends and he said, 'Hey, guys. One day I'm going to have my own theme park and it's going to be named after me.' And I bet all his friends and his family were just like 'Shut up, Walt. That's not going to happen.' Well look who's laughing now."

"Count me in with the believers then," Blaine teased.

"Duly noted. Ah, here's a good one," Kurt said as he paused in his scrolling. "'Publish a best selling novel.'"

"I didn't know you were interested in writing," Blaine mumbled.

"I figure that's the whole point of a bucket list, you know?" Kurt mused aloud. "You take your interests and you multiply them to the maximum exponent until they're this crazy dream. I feel like there are so many…I was going to say 'sides', but that implies that if you look at me from a different angle, I'm a different person…There are so many parts of me. And I don't want to waste any of them. I want to be all that I can be. Even if I only ever talk about it."

His head was in Blaine's lap and the shorter boy was stroking his hair softly. It was strangely soothing, feeling Blaine's fingertips moving in and out of his hair.

"You're amazing, do you know that?" Blaine murmured.

Kurt reached up a hand and traced the outline of Blaine's cheek slowly. He could feel himself blushing, so he decided to make Blaine blush in the only way he knew how. He propped himself up and pulled and Blaine down so that they met halfway in a well-calculated kiss. It was slow, thorough, and made Kurt curl up closer as Blaine enclosed him in the circle of his arms, supporting him. Kurt used his fingertips to gently massage the back of Blaine's neck.

Their lips parted with a soft noise, both of them blushing now. Kurt bit his bottom lip as he tried not to break into a smile. Blaine was ducking his head bashfully. It seemed that no matter how long they were together they could never get used to the fact that they were actually allowed to kiss one another for absolutely no reason in the world besides the fact that they could. It was nice.

"So…" Kurt began. "Will your parents hate us for messing up the furniture?"

"They'll never know," Blaine said. "They don't get back until Sunday night anyways before they're off somewhere else. And I promise I won't tattle on you," he teased, tickling Kurt's side.

"Do you think maybe we could leave the fort up for the night?" Kurt asked, stifling a yawn. "I kind of don't want to take it down yet."

"Yeah, me either."

Kurt was already snuggling under a thick blanket, huddling closer to Blaine to absorb his body warmth. He smacked his lips tiredly, his eyes already closing. He loved how he could still see the faint glow of the lamp against the blankets even through his closed-lids and how he could hear Blaine shifting beside him until he was lying down.

"Have you given any thought to the next thing you want to cross off your list?" Blaine asked, prying the forgotten phone out of Kurt's loose grip.

"I was thinking maybe number forty-one…" Kurt murmured.

Blaine read the number off the list and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"You're on, Hummel," he said, pressing a kiss to Kurt's forehead.

Then he turned off the lamp and the fort went dark.


A/N: I hope you all liked this first installment of this little idea I have going. You can go ahead and click that alert button if you want some periodic, good spirited fluff in your future (along with some smut, I'll admit it). I was thinking 'what else could be on Kurt Hummel's bucket list?' and I came up with a whole list of cute, do-able things our boys could do together like the two examples above. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it! Next installment coming fairly soon.

Review and let me know what you think (: