Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.
~750 words of Klaine snuggling in their own loft circa Christmas 2013. Enjoy.
There was a long, flowing silence that encompassed their apartment. Kurt padded soundlessly from room to room, watching snow fall. It was late and the fire had dwindled to an occasionally crackling simmer; the kitchen still smelled pleasantly of cinnamon even though the cookies had long been taken out of the oven, candles extinguished. Kurt believed in organic smells and the loft reflected his desires: each room had a subtle but noticeable flavor, a delight for the senses.
Resting a hand on the window sill, he stood watching the snow for a time, a pervasive, comforting silence filling the space around him. There was no urgency to his movements, no sense of need or great desire to be elsewhere. He was off for the holidays and Christmas was around the corner. All he needed was to bask in the glow and embrace the simple pleasure of being undisturbed.
"Why are you still up?" Blaine asked quietly, sneaking up behind him and hooking his chin over his shoulder, arms settling easily around his waist. "Can't sleep?"
"No," Kurt assured, sliding his hands down to give Blaine's a reassuring squeeze. "Just …enjoying the weather."
Blaine hummed, tilting his head to press a kiss to his cheek. "I could make you hot chocolate," he murmured, giving his waist a light squeeze.
Kurt made a thoughtful noise in response, turning in his arms carefully and assessing him. "Isn't it late?" he teased, voice an octave lower than usual, as Blaine shrugged, clad in sleep-ruffled pajamas.
"It's a holiday," he prompted in reply. "Holiday weekend," he amended, when Kurt lifted a speculative eyebrow
"Mmm." Kurt looped his own arms around Blaine's neck, accepting the kiss he gave him before breaking away and idling off towards the living room area. "I could put on Moulin Rouge."
"I thought we agreed not to cry before midnight," Blaine teased, already ambling into the kitchen and preparing a pot full of milk over the stove. "If we're going to cry, it has to be after midnight."
"I'm not going to cry," Kurt insisted, pulling the movie off the rack and popping the DVD out of the case, sliding it into the player. "You were bawling the last time we watched It's a Wonderful Life," he reminded, curling up in two of the blankets that had been draped over the arm of the chair, sliding his legs along the couch comfortably, one angled out jauntily as he relaxed against the cushions.
Blaine slid easily into the space between his arms, wrapping his own arms around Kurt's waist and resting his cheek against his shoulder. "I'm not going to cry," he echoed, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
"We'll see," Kurt conceded, tucking his arms around Blaine as the movie began.
They made it through roughly ten minutes before Blaine had to free himself to finish preparing the hot chocolate. Returning with two mugs, he nestled comfortably back into Kurt's side as they sat and watched together for a time, the warm steam and familiar music lulling them into a stupor.
Blaine didn't even flinch when Kurt's head sank to rest on his shoulder, freeing the empty mug from his grasp before he could accidentally drop it and tucking an arm around his back. Sighing softly in contentment, he pressed a kiss to his hair, nuzzling it slowly and watching the rest of the movie alone, throat tight and eyes misty as Come What May reached a crescendo.
"It's still our wedding song."
Blaine blinked at the words, reaching up to scrub at his eyes with a hand. "What?"
"Come What May. It's still … our wedding song. Isn't it?"
A weak, knee-melted smile crossed Blaine's lips. "Of course," he agreed, pressing another kiss to his hair. "It never changed."
"Mmm." Kurt leaned up, then, stretching almost like a cat, the movie still playing behind them but somehow forgotten as Kurt leaned back and tugged Blaine with him.
Comfortably nestled in his arms once more, uncomplaining, Blaine reached down to rub his arm slowly, admiring the smooth, silky texture of it. Marveling that the simple pleasure of just being near Kurt was his. Glancing at the clock, he whispered, "Merry Christmas, Kurt."
Giving him a light squeeze and letting out a soft sigh of contentment, Kurt murmured in reply, "Merry Christmas, Blaine."
And try though they might, neither watched the movie to completion, drifting off to the slow, soothing rhythm of a life that was theirs, a place that they could call home.
Author's Notes: Hello, lovelies. whatstheproblembaby (aka Jen) prompted "Christmas snuggles" for a one-word prompt. This was the result.
Definitely more Christmas fic to come. Hope you enjoyed!