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“Well, hello.”
Blaine hums happily in response as Kurt wraps his arms around his waist, crowding into his space as he stands at the stove, flipping French toast.
“I like this look. Any reason in particular?” Kurt presses a kiss to Blaine’s fluffy, curly, gel-free hair.
Blaine shrugs in Kurt’s hold. “Just didn’t feel the need to gel it when I woke up.”
“I hope you know I’m not going to stop petting it all day,” Kurt teases, and to emphasize his point, he begins combing through his husband’s hair gently, Blaine leaning into the touch. “It’s so soft.”
“I knew you would like it,” Blaine chuckles, transferring the last piece of French toast onto a plate. “Figured I’d let up on the gel a bit, you know, starting anew and all that.”
“Starting anew but valuing the past,” Kurt says, obediently taking the plate full of food that Blaine hands him. “But let it be known that I love you with or without gel, no matter what I say about either.”
“I know,” Blaine smiles, sitting down at the kitchen table across from Kurt. “Really, I do. But I think I’m ready to let it go, maybe for good. I’ll have to learn new ways to tame the beast —“ he gestures to his head. “But I’m sure I’ll figure it out. And you can help me experiment, if you want.”
“Of course I want to,” Kurt scoffs, grinning. “I’m very much on board with this plan,” Kurt pauses a moment, putting his fork down carefully. “But I have to ask, why the sudden change? For as long as I’ve known you, hair gel has been almost a necessity in your life.”
Blaine sighs, eyes darting downward as he pushes a piece of French toast aimlessly through the syrup on his plate. “I guess, in a weird way, gel was my shield? My safety net? If my life was feeling out of control and I was stressed out of my mind, at least I knew something could be in place and presentable.”
Kurt merely nods, listening earnestly and imploring him to continue. Blaine shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know. Basically, the more stressed I was, the tighter my hair was gelled. It was a weird projection of a coping mechanism, and I feel like I’m ready to wean myself off of it.”
“I can’t believe I never noticed that,” Kurt muses suddenly, voice a little thick with emotion. “Maybe subconsciously, but I never thought about it that way. God, the end of our engagement —“
Blaine reaches a hand across the table to take Kurt’s in his. “Hey, we’ve been through this. We both made mistakes. Not to mention that there were many factors playing into my stress, and honestly, you always made me feel better, even in the bad times.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t stress you out,” Kurt murmurs. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”
“It’s only normal to stress each other out sometimes,” Blaine assures him, squeezing their interlocked hands. “We were engaged. We’re married. It’s all part of the deal. But back then, I was stressed about NYADA, about the future, about myself and my body...” he trails off for a minute, locking eyes with Kurt. “Living is stressful. We’re both doing so much better than we were a year ago, and that’s not just because we’re married now.”
Kurt nods slowly. “You’re right. It’s just that sometimes I feel like you can read me and know me even before I can understand myself. I kind of hate that I can’t always do that for you, and this just proves that.”
“It’s a two way street, Kurt,” Blaine replies gently. “I need to be better at communicating what I’m feeling to you, instead of bottling it up or... gelling it down. And I promise, from firsthand experience, you get me and understand me even better than I do myself. Most of the time.”
Kurt snorts, releasing Blaine’s hand so he can continue to eat the breakfast he made for them. “You can’t win them all. I’m just proud of us for communicating.”
Blaine grins brightly at his husband, and Kurt’s heart positively swoops at how his slightly frizzy curls fall down onto his forehead. The minute they’re done eating breakfast, he’s going to look up the best curl maintaining products the market has to offer, because his husband’s hair is a work of art.
Kurt suddenly realizes that Blaine was talking for the past few moments — and that he missed all of it.
“Hm?” He interjects, much to Blaine’s amusement. “I’m sorry honey, I zoned out for a second.”
Blaine raises an eyebrow. “I could tell. Ten bucks it was because of my hair.”
Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine’s cheeky smirk. “Oh my god, we’re married. I’m not giving you money because what’s mine is already yours and what’s yours is already mine.”
“Still, the confirmation is good enough,” Blaine retorts lightly. “I was just saying that I’m also proud of us for communicating. And that I don’t know if Burt and Carole have seen me without gel in my hair since we showed them the pictures from senior prom.”
Kurt laughs. “Oh my god. That was a whole different monster, B. Don’t get me wrong, it was adorable, but you weren’t kidding when you complained about the static electricity making it huge.”
“Not to mention my hair is always frizziest right after I wash the gel out of it!” Blaine adds in protest. “That was ridiculous. Of course my worst hair day was prom.”
“I loved it,” Kurt comments. “And gel-free hair on prom night was even better.”
“That is true,” Blaine agrees pointedly, finishing the last bite of his French toast. “Anything in particular you want to do today?”
“You,” Kurt deadpans, purposefully ignoring Blaine’s remark about his “one-track mind.” “And maybe a shopping trip for some hair care supplies and a lunch out.”
“Sounds good to me,” Blaine responds, taking both of their dishes to the sink. “I’m loving domestic bliss with you, husband.”
“Me too, husband.”