Mi amore vole fe yah.
“No,” Kurt said lowly, standing up suddenly, “I’ve got it.” The brunet took Sam’s plate and his own, taking the dishes into the kitchen. He set into washing the dishes, begrudgingly with hand soap as Sam didn’t have any dish soap. Kurt scrubbed at the plates, grit his teeth as…
It was stupid, this tiff that they were half having. Half having because it was all angry Kurt and confused Sam, though this was how most of their fights seemed to go. The brunet went through all the dishes he could find, scouring the apartment for any left over dishes that were trying to evade his comfort cleaning. Once he felt satisfied that he’d washed and scrubbed everything in the apartment and set it all out to dry, Kurt let out a long sigh. Drying off his hands, Kurt threw the towel onto the counter and padded quietly into Sam’s room. He crawled into the bed, curling up next to Sam. Kurt buried his face in Sam’s chest, staying silent for a minute. “I’m sorry…” he mumbled quietly into the fabric of the blond’s shirt, glasz eyes downcasted.
When Sam said he hated fighting, he meant he really, really hated fighting. Sam did not like fighting with anyone. He wasn’t a very argumentative person at all. But with Kurt? The urge to fight was just lessened as impossible as it sounded. Kurt was just so sweet, he thought as he laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it turned around and around. Sam did most of his thinking while staring at the fan. He turned as he heard Kurt walk in, staring blankly at him for a moment. “It’s okay. Don’t be sorry, babe,” Sam spoke softly, holding Kurt close in hopes to comfort himself and Kurt.
Kurt nuzzled Sam’s chest lightly, almost being brought to tears. Sam was perfect, too perfect for Kurt with all his random fights and general obnoxious behaviour. “Thank you…” he said quietly, smiling broadly to himself. Kurt’s fingers tightly wrapped themselves in Sam’s shirt, holding on in this moment of need. “You’re perfect,” Kurt whispered into the wear-worn fabric, an almost sad smile spread across Kurt’s visage.
In general, Sam was a very loving person. He didn’t like seeing people upset and he definitely wanted to do anything in his power to make them feel better. If all he had to do was lay down in his bed and hold Kurt, that wasn’t a bad deal, he thought. “No,” Sam shook his head with a smile, “that’s you.” Quickly pressing a soft kiss on Kurt’s cheek, he smiled again. “It happens, it’s early.”
Kurt snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Nah, you’re the perfect one. I’m just here to reap the benefits or your company,” he sighed fondly, turning his head to kiss Sam gently on the lips. Butterflies still shook Kurt’s stomach every time they kissed and Kurt took this as a sign. A really, really good sign.
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“No,” Kurt said lowly, standing up suddenly, “I’ve got it.” The brunet took Sam’s plate and his own, taking the dishes into the kitchen. He set into washing the dishes, begrudgingly with hand soap as Sam didn’t have any dish soap. Kurt scrubbed at the plates, grit his teeth as…
It was stupid, this tiff that they were half having. Half having because it was all angry Kurt and confused Sam, though this was how most of their fights seemed to go. The brunet went through all the dishes he could find, scouring the apartment for any left over dishes that were trying to evade his comfort cleaning. Once he felt satisfied that he’d washed and scrubbed everything in the apartment and set it all out to dry, Kurt let out a long sigh. Drying off his hands, Kurt threw the towel onto the counter and padded quietly into Sam’s room. He crawled into the bed, curling up next to Sam. Kurt buried his face in Sam’s chest, staying silent for a minute. “I’m sorry…” he mumbled quietly into the fabric of the blond’s shirt, glasz eyes downcasted.
When Sam said he hated fighting, he meant he really, really hated fighting. Sam did not like fighting with anyone. He wasn’t a very argumentative person at all. But with Kurt? The urge to fight was just lessened as impossible as it sounded. Kurt was just so sweet, he thought as he laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it turned around and around. Sam did most of his thinking while staring at the fan. He turned as he heard Kurt walk in, staring blankly at him for a moment. “It’s okay. Don’t be sorry, babe,” Sam spoke softly, holding Kurt close in hopes to comfort himself and Kurt.
Kurt nuzzled Sam’s chest lightly, almost being brought to tears. Sam was perfect, too perfect for Kurt with all his random fights and general obnoxious behaviour. “Thank you…” he said quietly, smiling broadly to himself. Kurt’s fingers tightly wrapped themselves in Sam’s shirt, holding on in this moment of need. “You’re perfect,” Kurt whispered into the wear-worn fabric, an almost sad smile spread across Kurt’s visage.
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“No,” Kurt said lowly, standing up suddenly, “I’ve got it.” The brunet took Sam’s plate and his own, taking the dishes into the kitchen. He set into washing the dishes, begrudgingly with hand soap as Sam didn’t have any dish soap. Kurt scrubbed at the plates, grit his teeth as…
It was stupid, this tiff that they were half having. Half having because it was all angry Kurt and confused Sam, though this was how most of their fights seemed to go. The brunet went through all the dishes he could find, scouring the apartment for any left over dishes that were trying to evade his comfort cleaning. Once he felt satisfied that he’d washed and scrubbed everything in the apartment and set it all out to dry, Kurt let out a long sigh. Drying off his hands, Kurt threw the towel onto the counter and padded quietly into Sam’s room. He crawled into the bed, curling up next to Sam. Kurt buried his face in Sam’s chest, staying silent for a minute. “I’m sorry…” he mumbled quietly into the fabric of the blond’s shirt, glasz eyes downcasted.
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Waiting through eight hours of awesome dreams didn’t seem like any type of tragedy to Sam at all. It was better than waiting while you were awake and staring at the clock moving slower than molasses. “Really? I like to think I’m a totally great snuggling partner. You know you move…
“That’s not a bad thing. I liked having you there,” Sam said quietly, shrugging his shoulders. With Kurt, it was hard to tell whether it was mock anger or actual annoyance from the brunette. He picked at the crumbs on his plate, even though it was obvious he wasn’t going to eat anymore off of it. “Can I.. take your plate or..?” he asked as he got up.
“No,” Kurt said lowly, standing up suddenly, “I’ve got it.” The brunet took Sam’s plate and his own, taking the dishes into the kitchen. He set into washing the dishes, begrudgingly with hand soap as Sam didn’t have any dish soap. Kurt scrubbed at the plates, grit his teeth as he worked out the momentary anger. “Just, go back to bed or something and I’ll be in in a little while.”
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it’s already Wednesday | Kurt and Sam.
Waiting through eight hours of awesome dreams didn’t seem like any type of tragedy to Sam at all. It was better than waiting while you were awake and staring at the clock moving slower than molasses. “Really? I like to think I’m a totally great snuggling partner. You know you move a lot in your sleep, right?” Sam laughed, finishing up the last of his eggs.
Kurt pouted, rolling his eyes. “I was kidding, but fine,” he harrumphed, crossing his arms. How rude, he did not move that much. “If you have such a problem with me moving in my sleep then I won’t sleep with you again,” he hissed indignantly, “jerk.”
(Source: jesuishummel)
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Kurt snorted, pressing one more quick kiss to Sam’s lips before he sat down, shaking his head fondly. “I’m sure you can wake up a bit for me,” Kurt hummed, “especially since I still remember your promise from last night.” The brunet smirked faintly, slowly gesturing for Sam to…
“Mm, you said morning,” Kurt hummed, amused, taking another bite of eggs. The brunet smirked at Sam, staring at the blond through thick, ruddy lashes. Kurt picked at his eggs idly, a small smile settling on his lips. “We don’t have to.. right now,” he said breathily, “later, when you wake up.” The innuendo purposefully set out on the table, Kurt playfully smiled and went back to picking at his eggs.
Groaning, Sam shook his head. “Did I really?” Sam took note of the forgetful quality he seemed to acquire. “Later,” he promised, sealing the deal with a small smirk before going back to his food. He figured if he was fulfilling his promise later on, he might as well make small talk now. “So did you sleep alright?”
“You really did,” he snorted, a fond twinkle in his eyes, “I’m patient, though, I had to wait all night, didn’t I?” Kurt licked his lips slowly, shifting his chair a little closer to Sam. Small talk time. “I slept fine, besides, you know, the snoring, and the weird blond breathing down my neck,” Kurt teased, throwing Sam a playful smile.
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Kurt snorted, pressing one more quick kiss to Sam’s lips before he sat down, shaking his head fondly. “I’m sure you can wake up a bit for me,” Kurt hummed, “especially since I still remember your promise from last night.” The brunet smirked faintly, slowly gesturing for Sam to…
“Mm, you said morning,” Kurt hummed, amused, taking another bite of eggs. The brunet smirked at Sam, staring at the blond through thick, ruddy lashes. Kurt picked at his eggs idly, a small smile settling on his lips. “We don’t have to.. right now,” he said breathily, “later, when you wake up.” The innuendo purposefully set out on the table, Kurt playfully smiled and went back to picking at his eggs.
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it’s already Wednesday | kurt and sam.
Nodding simply as Kurt spoke, Sam knew it’d be a good five minutes before he was even able to function properly. Being rudely awakened by sunlight wasn’t Sam’s favorite alarm clock, but it was better than the actual annoying buzzing of that devilish contraption. Sam’s body had developed its own alarm clock. He woke up when he woke up naturally. Not because of sun, not because of noise, not because of some stupid buzzing, but because it was time to wake up. “Not at this hour, though,” he grumbled, still smiling as best as he could.
“Honestly, it smells awesome,” Sam said happily, sitting down at his sad excuse for a kitchen table. Most days, it was just Sam, save for the days he had friends over. Even then, they usually wound up eating out or on the couch or something other than an actual, sit down dinner. And breakfast? It was a foreign language. “You’re welcome. But really, you didn’t have to,” he said softly, smiling a quick smile before yawning yet again.
Kurt snorted, pressing one more quick kiss to Sam’s lips before he sat down, shaking his head fondly. “I’m sure you can wake up a bit for me,” Kurt hummed, “especially since I still remember your promise from last night.” The brunet smirked faintly, slowly gesturing for Sam to eat. “Go ahead, eat before it gets cold,” he said softly, smiling gently at Sam. Kurt wasn’t exactly sure how his waffles would taste, being he hadn’t cooked anything like those in almost two years. The brunet couldn’t indulge like that, and he hadn’t been at home in awhile.
“Thank you,” Kurt flushed, biting at his lower lip. “And I so did, you deserve it, really…” He shifted in his seat to pick at his own plate of just eggs, smiling to himself. The compliments were fairly flattering, and he hadn’t really been complimented on his cooking in a long while. Kurt took a bite of eggs, chewing daintily, before swallowing.
(Source: jesuishummel)
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