gingeritt prompted: Blaine goes paintballing with the guys and comes home sore and COVERED in paint so Kurt helps him get cleaned up.
Kurt’s laying on his bed sorting through sheet music for glee when he hears them come in. The front door slams shut, and then the voices fill the house, carrying up to Kurt’s room.
“Admit it, we beat you guys fair and square,” gloats Sam.
“Whatever dude, we would have won if Finn hadn’t been stupid enough to hit his head at base,” says Puck.
“Hey, that door was unfairly low,” says Finn defensively. “And I’m fairly certain it’s like, unethical to shoot at someone who’s already injured.”
“As if you wouldn’t have done the same,” says a voice that Kurt is surprised to recognise as Blaine’s.
At that, Kurt sets aside the sheet music and heads down to the kitchen, where he knows the boys will be after a long session of paintball. Sure enough, Puck already has his head in the fridge, searching for snacks, as Finn and Sam scour the cupboards. Blaine, meanwhile, stands by the sink, leaning against it as he gulps down a glass of water. Kurt’s eyes rake over the slightly over-sized paintball gear that his boyfriend’s wearing, taking in just how much paint is splattered over the uniform. Kurt has been paintballing once before, grudgingly for Finn’s 17th, and even though that time he had barely been hit because he’d always elected to stay at base, he knows from the way that Blaine plays that some of those shots must have left bruises.
Blaine is the first to notice that Kurt’s in the room. His eyes light up, and he sets down his glass before crossing the room to his boyfriend.
“Hey, Kurt,” he says brightly, leaning in for a kiss. But Kurt places his hand on Blaine’s chest, effectively stopping him. Blaine’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. He looks back at the other boys, who have stopped in their hunt for food to look over at them.
“Oh,” says Blaine. “Do you want to go up to your room?”
“You must be completely delusional if you think I’m letting you anywhere near my room right now,” says Kurt.
The words are met with silence. Blaine looks understandably hurt. In the background, Puck lets out a low whistle, which earns him one of Kurt’s trademark bitch glares.
“Grow up, Puckerman, I meant because of the paint,” says Kurt, and Blaine’s face relaxes. “Come on, Blaine, you’re going straight to the bathroom.”
Puck wolfwhistles at that, earning a “Dude, that’s my brother!” from Finn, and a flash of the finger from Kurt.
“You know none of the paint actually got on me, right?” says Blaine once they’re in the bathroom.
“I know,” says Kurt. “But I also know you’re probably a lot more sore from bruises than you’d ever let on in front of the guys.”
Blaine sends Kurt a grateful look.
“Now, are you going to take off your clothes so I can see those bruises?” says Kurt.
“Sore,” says Blaine weakly.
Kurt sighs, muttering about the stupidity of boys. He undoes the buttons of Blaine’s shirt so that Blaine can shrug it off with ease, letting it fall to the ground behind him. Kurt then drops to his knees so he can tug down Blaine’s pants.
“We’re not all that stupid, you know,” says Blaine quietly, stepping out of his trousers.
“Is that so?” says Kurt, unconvinced as he examines the bruises running all the way up Blaine’s legs.
“Yeah,” says Blaine, as Kurt comes up to eye level again. His arms wrap around Kurt’s waist. “I mean, somehow after all this paintball I managed to get my wonderful boyfriend stripping me down to my underwear in his bathroom. That takes a bit of intelligence, don’t you think?”
Kurt rolls his eyes. Regardless, he leans in so his lips meet Blaine’s, arms finding their way around his neck and tugging him closer until –
“Ow!” Blaine cries out in pain, Kurt’s hands having pressed down against a bruise at the base of his neck.
Part of Kurt feels sorry for Blaine, but he can’t help but smirk at Blaine’s failed attempt at seduction.
“Nope, just stupid,” says Kurt, stepping past Blaine to search through the medicine cabinet.
Although, Kurt has to admit, he loves being able to take care of Blaine like this.