Steamer Trunk Adventures 4



 

“I’m late! I’m sorry,” Kurt apologized as he rushed through the house towards the living room where he knew Blaine would be waiting. Blaine stepped forward to meet him, bracing himself for a greeting that half-resembled a tackle.

There was a moment of quiet while they kissed, and then Kurt pulled back a little, ready to share his afternoon of adventures with Mercedes. The words died in his throat.

“What… is… that?” His voice rose in pitch on the last word turning into a sound that threatened to shatter glass, but Blaine didn’t even wince.

“Surprise!” Blaine pulled Kurt close and breathed the word softly against his cheek. He held on, sharing Kurt’s excitement and joy. Then he let go, watching as Kurt dropped to his knees, hands out and hovering over the trunk as if sensing it before allowing himself to touch.

“Oh. My…” He turned and reached up for Blaine, pulling him down to kneel beside him, uncaring for the moment about their clothing. His fingers danced lightly over the bow and he gave Blaine a look for that, before tracing lightly over the metal fittings, the dark exterior, and finally, the latches and the lock.

“There’s no key,” Blaine told him apologetically. “I thought your dad might have something that could be used to open it.”

“I’ve got something better,” Kurt insisted, hopping up. “I’ll be right back,” he called, already racing out of the room. Blaine sat back, getting comfortable as he listened to Kurt run up the stairs and into his room. There was some clattering and then Kurt was back with a wooden box in his hands.

“Look,” he said as he dropped to his knees again and opened the box. It was full of keys. “They make excellent accessories,” Kurt insisted as he rummaged through the pile. He extracted a large, old-fashioned key and tried it in the lock without success. He set the key aside and rummaged for another before simply dumping the whole box. “Help me look?”

Blaine set to work sorting out the most likely prospects and returning the others to their container while Kurt tried opening the lock. There were only three keys left when Blaine offered to go ask Carol for a screwdriver.

“No, wait.” Kurt put a hand on his leg. “I think…” He wiggled the key and made a face as he tried turning it again. “It’s almost…” Blaine reached over and put his hand over Kurt’s helping him turn the key. The lock was rusty with age but finally they were able to turn the key and the lock gave with a satisfying clunk. Blaine quickly gathered the rest of the keys and set the box aside while Kurt cautiously lifted the lid.

There was no squeal this time, just a sharp intake of breath so intense that it left Blaine lightheaded just from hearing it. Or perhaps it was some of his own wonder and excitement shining through as the hint of cloth and the scent of a mysterious past enticed them.

“Help me lift it?” Kurt asked, pulling his hand back from where it hovered over the heavy cloth concealing one side of the trunk. Blaine didn’t know much about steamer trunks, but this was similar to one he’d seen in a movie - rectangular, and meant to stand on end with a series on drawers on the right and a cloth on the left, probably concealing a bar for hanging clothes. They righted the trunk, then looked at each other, grinning.

“Right or left?” Kurt asked, clearly unwilling to choose although his hands had drifted towards the left as soon as the trunk had been opened. Blaine made the decision for him.

Kurt knelt again, completely absorbed. Blaine was vaguely aware that Carole and Finn were probably watching from another room, but he was glad they were allowing them some semblance of privacy. He had an undeniable need to kiss Kurt right now.

“Mmm,” Kurt mumbled when they finally separated. He rested his head against Blaine’s shoulder for a moment before pulling away. He turned back, cheeks pink, and asked, “Help me?”

Blaine leaned forward, working the fasteners on one side of the cloth-covered trunk compartment, while Kurt worked the others. When the cloth was loose, they lifted it together on a silent count of three.

By unspoken agreement, one hanging garment would be removed at a time. Blaine stood so Kurt could hand the first item up to him and together they examined the black cloak. It was heavy, probably wool, with a silky lining. Kurt ran his fingers over it delicately, feeling the fine material and the expert construction. Blaine wondered if it had been custom made.

“Try it on,” Kurt urged, his voice low with a note of desire. Blaine didn’t have to be asked twice.

It felt lighter on than it had on the hanger. The wool was soft, and the silk was cool against his skin. Blaine could feel Kurt’s breath against his neck as deft fingers settled the cloak into place and smoothed the fabric.

“It suits you,” Kurt told him as he motioned for Blaine to turn around. Kurt’s hands were light on Blaine’s shoulders and he was standing close enough that Blaine could hear him breathing. It required just a small movement and they were kissing again, bodies pressed close and the cloak encircling them both.

They didn’t speak when they separated; there was no need to. Kurt simply leaned down, ignoring the awkward angle, and extracted the next garment from the trunk.

It was a frock coat and it fit Kurt like it had been made for him.

“You look like you stepped off a movie set,” Blaine told him, taking his turn to fuss unnecessarily. He made Kurt turn and do his runway strut across the room and back, taking the moment to reach down and pick up the gold bow.

“What are you doing with that?” Kurt eyed the bow warily, Blaine’s smile giving away his intent. With a smirk, Kurt turned on his heel and dashed for the other side of the room with Blaine close behind. They kept up the chase for a few minutes, laughing, until their desire for each other’s touch won out and the went back to kissing.

Or at least they did until Blaine stuck the bow in Kurt’s hair.

“You,” he growled as he wrestled Blaine down. The bow was hanging on, lopsided, and Blaine’s cloak was askew. They lay in a pile, silly and breathless, until they caught the murmur of low voices from the kitchen.

“Dad’s home,” Kurt whispered, taking Blaine’s momentary wide-eyed panic as payback for the bow in his hair. With a laugh he rolled over and onto his knees, pulling Blaine up beside him and drawing his attention to one of the small drawers in the trunk.

“Look,” he said brightly, picking up a small tin. “Hair gel.”

“My favorite brand,” Blaine teased, leaning over and bumping Kurt’s shoulder with his own. He made a ridiculous face and the two of them burst out laughing.

Kurt slipped the tin into the nearest pocket of Blaine’s cloak and gave it a pat. Blaine countered by taking the bow out of Kurt’s hair and tucking it part-way into the breast pocket of Kurt’s coat. Their eyes met and they smiled.

Behind them was the soft, familiar clink of china and silverware as the table was set. In front of them was a trunk full of treasures from the past. And in the center they sat, hands entwined, looking towards each other and the future.

::end::

Return to Astra's Glee Fanfiction