facethefall:
crisscharisma:
Amazingingly beautiful.
Kurt wakes first, blinks his eyes open a few times against the early morning sun and shakes the fog of sleep from his brain. He stretches from his fingers to his toes, working the muscles that have become stiff over the course of the night.
Blaine stirs next to him, his mouth open in a yawn and his face digging into his pillow as he tries to hang on to just a few more moments of sleep. He reaches out for Kurt out of pure instinct, feeling his hand over the sheets until he touches Kurt’s shoulder.
“Mmm,” Blaine hums, his voice still sleep-rough. “C’mere.” He sneaks his arm under Kurt’s shoulder, pullling gently, and Kurt goes willingly.
Blaine rolls onto his side so they’re pressed together as tight as they can be, hidden ankles hooking together under the sheets. Kurt slips his fingers into Blaine’s hair, always so soft first thing in the morning.
Kurt presses his lips against Blaine’s cheek, feels the prickly hair that’s just starting to dust Blaine’s skin. This is Kurt’s favorite time of day; when the sun is out, but not too bright. When the city is still quiet, pulling itself out of the haze of sleep; when the day has yet to begin and anything is possible.
The words come out as a whispered breath against Blaine’s cheek, filled with hope and love and the promise of a new day.
“Morning, love.”
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