Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

A/N: This story is going to serve as a place for me to stash Glee fics too short for their own post. Probably will be updated once a week or so, because I have a lot to clear off my hard drive. :)

"I think my mom has empty nest syndrome," Blaine groans as soon as the Skype screen finishes loading.

Kurt, drained after a day of classes, bites back his sarcastic hello to you tooand decides to appreciate the sound of his boyfriend's voice, even if Blaine is whining. Adjusting so his laptop rests comfortably on his stomach, Kurt asks, "How can she have empty nest syndrome if you're still at home?"

(Especially since she's never home to deal with an empty nest, is another comment Kurt keeps to himself, because it's an old fight.)

"I think it finally hit her that by this time next year, I'll have been in New York for a month and a half."

Kurt's stomach flutters at the idea of seeing Blaine every day, without dealing with laggy Skype connection. And, even in his distress, Blaine smiles a little, because 10 months and 2 weeks is totally insignificant compared to a lifetime together. The thought makes Kurt want to kiss his boyfriend badly, damn all the jail-bait jokes that are thrown his way.

("Kurt, babe, are you sure this kid is a senior?" asked Ruby from his Intro to Design class, "He looks younger than my 10-year-old brother."

And Kurt, who thought it would be terribly Midwestern of him to mention how all the kids in New York looked and acted about a decade older than they really were, just snatched back the picture of Blaine dressed for his first day of school and insisted that they focus on their sketches instead.)

"Kuuuuurt," Blaine whines, "You're not listening to me in my hour of ne- Jesus Christ! Stop that Charlie! Bad boy!"

Kurt watches in confusion as Blaine disappears off screen. Something crashes to the ground and Blaine yells something muffled but unpleasant. Then there's this terrifying high-pitched wail and by the time Blaine gets back, Kurt's connection is lagging like hell as his boyfriend holds what appears to be an emotionally distressed blob.

"Blaine," Kurt says slowly, in contrast to how he's rapidly shutting down every other program he has running, "What is that?"

Skype starts to run smoothly again and Blaine has settled down the blob, which is not really a blob at all but a puppy. When he speaks, Blaine mentally congratulates for keeping his voice calm, even after he had to wrestle a hell beast away from the memory book Kurt gave him. "This would be Charles Barkley. Charlie for short. He's my mom's answer to an empty nest."

In his mind, Blaine fantasized that, even with the distance between them, Kurt would be able to sense the pure evil radiating from Charlie. Or at least commiserate in the fact that Blaine's mother intended to replace him with a pug. Instead, hearts suddenly appear in Kurt's eyes and he squeals.

"Oh my god! Blaine, that dog is absolutely precious. Pose so I can get a screenshot, okay?"

In the picture (which becomes Kurt's desktop background), Charlie has his tongue lolling and is breathing weird dog breath all over Blaine, who forces a smile. It lasts for about thirty seconds after the picture is taken and then Blaine has to disconnect, because Charlie interpreted the photo op as a
sign to pee all over the bed.