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Blaine swallowed and ran through the main points of his argument in his mind one more time, tilting his head from side to side and bouncing on his toes as he readied himself. He gave a decisive nod, checked that the small, hard-sided Brooks Brothers bag he held tightly in one hand was closed, tweaked his bowtie, and swept open the door to his and Kurt’s new apartment.
“Kurt?” he called.
“In the kitchen,” came the distracted reply. Blaine gently placed the bag on the floor and shrugged of his jacket, battling for a few moments to hook it onto their overflowing coat-rack. He picked up the bag again and whispered into it, “Don’t be offended if he doesn’t love you at first, I promise you he will. I have a plan, okay?”
It shifted a little, but otherwise it was silent. Blaine walked down the hallway into their tiny kitchen, where Kurt was leaning down over the counter, frowning down at the manual for their new coffee machine.
“This is more complicated than some cars I’ve worked on,” Kurt muttered bitterly, closing the manual and pushing himself to stand straight, stretching his arms up over his head and wincing. “I just want a cup of coffee.” He let his arms flop back down and blinked his eyes at Blaine.
Warmth bloomed through Blaine’s chest and he sidled up to Kurt, sliding an arm around his waist and kissing him on the cheek. “Hi, husband.”
Kurt smiled the dazed smile that graced Kurt’s face whenever Blaine said the word ‘husband’. “Hi.”
His smile dropped to a confused frown. “Um, Blaine?” Kurt said. “Just a, um, couple of things.” He eyed Blaine up and down. “Firstly, you know I’m all for bold expression and personal style, but I think two-, no wait, there’s another one under there that isn’t done up isn’t there? So, three bowties might be just a tad excessive.” Blaine instinctively brought up his hand to smooth down the folds of his top bowtie. “Secondly, I thought you were doing something with Sam this evening? And thirdly, and I don’t mean to alarm you, but your Brooks Brothers bag is moving.”
Blaine’s eyes dropped to the bag.
“Just put it down in the middle of the floor,” Kurt said, slowly reaching for the broom tucked behind the door. “I’ve dealt with rats at the diner. I know how to handle this.”
“Um, actually, Kurt-”
“You can leave if you want, honey,” Kurt said, eyes narrowed on the bag. He held the broom at the brush end and began to raise it above his head. “If this will upset you.”
“Oh, you’re going to- No! Kurt, wait a second,” Blaine yelped.
“Move, Blaine,” Kurt said, shifting his feet and lowering his centre of gravity in preparation. “How did you not even realise that there was a rat in your bag anyway? “
“Well, I did know, actually-”
Kurt paused and turned to face Blaine, incredulous. “You knew? You knew and you brought it into our apartment?”
“Well, I knew that there was something in the bag,” Blaine rushed to explain. “In fact I know exactly what’s in the bag. Just, can you put the broom down, please? And then I’ll explain.”
Kurt chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and put the broom back against the door, folding his arms across his chest and looking at Blaine expectantly.
“Right, well, I went to Brooks Brothers on Broadway on my way home and I bought these two bowties.” He gestured to his neck. Kurt nodded in approval and Blaine couldn’t help but smile, pleased. “Anyway, then when I was walking back to the subway Sam called me and I stepped into an alley because it was so loud I couldn’t hear him, and then I heard the teeniest tiniest meow I’ve ever heard in my life and then I saw her all alone, peering out from behind a trash can. She was so sad and really, really tiny and I couldn’t leave her there.”
And then, with such perfect dramatic timing that Blaine just knew she was going to fit right into their little family, the little kitten poked her head out of the bag.
Kurt stared down at the kitten, eyes widening.
“I suppose the cat’s out of the bag,” Blaine said, with a small, nervous laugh. “I was thinking we could call her Brook. Because you know, the bag. And the bowties.”
Kurt didn’t respond and he leant closer towards the tabby kitten, hypnotised. His expression soft and jaw slack, Kurt reached forward and gently plucked the kitten out of the bag and raised her so she looked him in the eye, her legs dangling down uselessly. She mewed pitifully and Kurt visibly melted.
“Oh my God,” Kurt breathed. “She is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Blaine’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed into a pout. Kurt glanced across at him and tucked the kitten against his chest, giving a fond roll of his eyes as he leant forward to press a soft kiss to Blaine’s lips. “The cutest thing after you, of course.”
Blaine gave a pleased little hum and reached around to hug Kurt, but Kurt shimmied away, still carefully cradling the kitten against his body.
“Be careful,” Kurt warned. “Don’t crush her.”
The pout returned in full force to Blaine’s lips.
**
Brook and Kurt were immediately inseparable. She followed Kurt around the apartment as closely as she could, slipping on the hardwood floor in the hallway as she raced to greet him, or getting her claws caught in the carpet in their living room as she played with swatches and newspaper clippings that Kurt had laid out in an impromptu mood board.
At first it was adorable. Blaine melted every time he saw Brook and Kurt napping together on the couch, or both lying on their tummies in the living room, Kurt flicking a piece of curling ribbon from Blaine’s gift wrapping supplies back and forth and laughing in delight as she pounced clumsily after it. Kurt had a tiny, fuzzy shadow, and their new apartment very quickly began to feel like home.
Kurt had fashioned a number of collars from scraps of fabric, all tones and patterns that complemented and contrasted with the tabby’s colouring. But when Blaine tried to put a bowtie on her, she wasn’t having any of it.
When Blaine was home alone, Brook had taken to napping in one of Kurt’s boots, meowing pathetically whenever Blaine picked her up and tried to get her to settle on his lap or on the couch next to him. But when Kurt was home, she would happily curl up on his chest or on his shoulder, purring so loudly Blaine thought she must be trying to make a point.
And if Blaine had the nerve to try and cuddle his husband after a long day when Brook was tucked in Kurt’s arms? Blaine would be batted away immediately, both by Kurt and the kitten.
“You’re trying too hard,” Kurt would say with infuriating condescension, when Blaine complained about Brook not liking him. “You can’t do that with cats. You have to let them come to you.”
But try (or determinately not try) as he might, Blaine couldn’t get Brook to like him. He had even tried to rationalise with her, lying down on the floor by the boot she was peeking out of and explaining very carefully that he was, in fact, the one to save her, so maybe she should be a little more grateful. She didn’t seem to take it to heart and just batted lazily at one of the laces with her paw.
The worst thing by far, however, was the power she wielded over Kurt. When she was in the room, it felt like Blaine was invisible. And sure, yes, Blaine was well aware of his tendency to be overdramatic, and sure, Kurt still kissed him hello and brought him home various baked goods and gave him his morning coffee in bed and ended every phone-call with ‘love you’ and gave him massages after particularly hard dance classes. But still. Whenever that damn cat came within eyesight of Kurt, Blaine slipped into background noise.
His resentment grew as time went on, as he was denied more and more cuddles due to the ferocious glares of a tiny kitten. He tried to get used to the fact that he could only tuck himself into Kurt’s side when they were watching TV, and not be able to rest his head on Kurt’s chest like he usually did. That space was occupied by a rumbling kitten who, if Blaine did try and lie his head down, would push her paws into his hair and pull at the gel until his hair stuck up in all directions.
**
The final straw came a month after Blaine brought her home. Blaine had dragged his feet from the subway to their apartment, exhausted after a long night of rehearsals at NYADA for his junior year performance. He was ready to collapse in bed and feel the arms of his husband curl around him in his sleep, cocooning Blaine in perfect warmth as his tired muscles could finally relax.
However, when Blaine arrived home, it was to find Kurt curled up in the middle of their bed with a certain cat tucked by his side, nesting snugly in the warm curve of Kurt’s body. Exactly where Blaine craved to be.
Blaine sighed and dropped his shoulders. Whenever he had tried to move her in the past, she had yowled loudly - so ridiculously loud for such a tiny thing - and stuck her claws out to cling to anything she could get her paws on. Deciding he was too tired to consider fighting with Brook for pride of spooning place, Blaine got undressed and slipped into the tiny slither of bed beside them, sighing with pleasure at the soft and cool sheets against his skin.
The peace was soon ruined. Blaine felt a pressure, low down on his side, and he looked down to see Brook, pushing her paws against him. He tried to push back, but she drew out her claws, while purring, so that they dug into his skin. He yelped and quickly wriggled to the side, but there was no more ‘side’ left so he tumbled off the edge of the bed, landing in a tangle of blankets.
He sat up, tiredness and frustration swirling and building in his stomach, and was further irritated to see that Kurt was still fast asleep. Brook stretched out her back legs, taking up even more room on the bed - how did such a small cat take up so much space? She was so long - and blinked sleepily at Blaine before she dozed off again.
Blaine pressed his lips together, glaring down at the pair of them. He huffed, loud, hoping it might wake Kurt up, but to no avail. Kurt slumbered on, emitting tiny little snuffles that in any other situation Blaine might find adorable, but right now, it felt like Kurt was just rubbing in the fact that he was fast asleep and Blaine wasn’t.
Blaine felt like stamping his foot. This wasn’t fair. He just wanted to sleep.
Clenching his hands into fists by his side, he ground his jaw back and forth. This damn cat. Ruining everything.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gathering up the blankets on the floor and laying one over Kurt, because he didn’t want him to be cold, no matter how pissed he was right now, and stalked out of the bedroom to flop himself unceremoniously on the couch.
**
Blaine woke early in the morning to light streaming in the curtain-less living room windows. He pushed himself slowly up, rubbing at his tired eyes with one hand and shoving the blanket off him with the other. He swung his legs around and lowered his feet to the floor, staring down at the ground as he tried to summon the energy to get up.
Before he could move, however, he heard the soft pad of Kurt’s footsteps, his husband appearing a moment later in the doorway to their room, eyes squinted in foggy confusion. Brook trotted after him, slinking through Kurt’s legs and then heading off across the room towards the kitchen.
“What are you doing in here?” Kurt asked, voice rough and crackly from sleep. “You slept out here?”
Blaine just raised his eyebrows in place of a response. He thought the answer was pretty obvious.
“Are you mad at me?” Kurt said, befuddled and sleepy and sad. “Why are you mad? What did I do?”
It took everything Blaine had in him to not give in and smooth everything over. “The stupid cat!” He said.
Kurt looked at him like he’d gone crazy. “Brook?”
“Of course Brook!” Blaine said, throwing his hands up in the air. “She was taking up the whole freaking bed, Kurt! You were all spooned around her! That’s where I’m supposed to be.” He crossed his arms petulantly and fell back against the couch.
Kurt tilted his head to the other side, chewing the inside of his cheek. He ducked his head, trying, and failing, to hide his smile.
“This isn’t funny,” Blaine muttered bitterly. “She been deliberately keeping me away from you for weeks now. And you let her.”
Kurt didn’t say anything, but walked around to the couch and crouched down in front of him, reaching for his hands. “Blaine, honey, I promise you I still love you the most.”
“Yeah, well,” Blaine said. “I just want to cuddle my husband, but you keep stopping me because you’ve already got the cat on you.”
A small crease formed between Kurt’s eyebrows. “I’m sorry, sweetie. You know I can get a little caught up when I have a new thing to play with. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”
A small, slightly rueful smile tugged at Blaine’s lips. “I may have had a sense-of-humour failure last night. I was just so tired and I missed you, is all. I miss my Kurt hugs.”
Kurt’s eyes softened and he climbed up onto the couch beside him. “Aw, honey,” he said, wrapping both arms around Blaine and pulling him close. “I’m so sorry.”
Blaine sank into his embrace, allowing himself to relax into the warmth of Kurt’s body as Kurt rubbed up and down his back. Blaine hummed happily into Kurt’s chest, and Kurt pressed a soft kiss into his hair.
There was a loud meow at their feet. Blaine couldn’t help but laugh.
**
“Hey, I have an idea,” Kurt said out of the blue, a little later, still entwined on the couch. “How about we go down to the shelter and get another kitten? One that you really bond with?”
Blaine pulled back to look at Kurt. “Are you sure?”
Kurt smiled softly down at him and rubbed their noses together. “Of course I’m sure. And then they could play together! It’s perfect.”
Blaine pressed his forehead against Kurt’s, closing his eyes and murmuring, “I love you.”
Blaine could Kurt’s grin in his voice as he said, “Because of the kittens?”
“Because of the kittens.”