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It was just one of those days.
Blaine had overslept slightly, which had thrown his whole schedule out of whack. He’d decided not to eat breakfast and instead get a coffee to go on the way to the office to compensate for accidentally sleeping in. Of course, after he’d procured his coffee, he was stuck in traffic. When he’d finally made it to work, he promptly ran into someone on his way in and spilled his coffee all over his front.
Blaine had a spare suit and shirt in his office, of course, so he didn’t worry about it at that moment. He wasn’t exactly in the best of moods now, all things considered, but the day was still salvageable. He just needed to get it back on track.
But then he entered his office and the phone was ringing off the hook with Kurt nowhere in sight and some temp sitting in his place instead. A temp, he might add, who was not picking up the phone. Blaine had no idea where the hell Kurt was but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be thrilled when he came back and found out nobody had manned the phones in his absence, so he glared at the temp sitting in Kurt’s chair and instructed him to take messages or he could leave right now and never come back. And no, he didn’t mean just Blaine’s office, but the whole of Washington.
When the temp was suitably cowed, Blaine shut the door to his own office and shrugged out of his ruined clothes. He just hoped the dry cleaners would be able to get the coffee stains out, he really liked this suit. He also liked the shirt, but if necessary, he could replace that one. The suit was bespoke though, and would cost him a pretty penny to replace.
He was walking around in his underwear, digging his spare suit out of the hidden closet when the inter-office line rang. He cursed and, pants in hand, rushed over to his desk. “Yes?” he said breathlessly into the receiver.
“Uhm,” came the unsure voice of the temp, “I have Senator Howards on the phone, regarding your meeting from yesterday?”
For a moment Blaine had no idea what meeting they were even talking about, but then the name clicked and he bit back another curse. “Put him through,” he said and sank down into his seat, absently shaking out his pants.
The conversation lasted about ten minutes, with Blaine being slightly distracted by putting his pants on and rooting around for his spare shirt. He was just shrugging it on when Senator Howards finally agreed to talk more in depth at a later date, told him they’d see each other on the floor later and hung up. Blaine breathed a sigh of relief and chanced a glance at the clock. He had maybe another fifteen minutes before he had to rush out and over to the Capitol. This really was shaping up to be a craptastic day.
He was just buttoning up, walking over to the closet to see if he had another tie somewhere, when his socked foot caught on the coffee table. Blaine stumbled and thrust his hands out for balance so he wouldn’t fall flat on his face. He heard the unmistakable plink of a button bouncing off the table top while he hopped around on his other foot to keep weight off the one he’d run toe-first into solid wood with. Blaine closed his eyes briefly, praying for patience, before he looked down on himself and saw that he had managed to not only rip off one, but two buttons.
Blaine was seriously tempted to sit down in the middle of his office and start crying like a small child.
He was spared the indignity when the door to his office opened, closely followed by Kurt’s incredulous, “What on earth are you still doing here? You’re in session in fifteen minutes!”
Blaine whirled around, his eyes seeking out the clock, then he groaned and ran a hand over his face. He’d misread the clock by fifteen minutes. If he didn’t sprint over to the Capitol now he would be seriously late and his shirt was still missing two buttons.
“Where the hell have you been?” he grouched back, surveying the damage to his shirt and realizing that he wouldn’t be able to cover the missing buttons even if he left his suit jacket closed. “Somebody ran into me and spilled my coffee all over me, so I had to change, and then I ripped off two buttons and I can’t go out like that!”
Blaine made himself stop and take a deep breath. It wasn’t Kurt’s fault that nothing went right today, and he really shouldn’t yell at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking dejectedly down at his shirt, poking at it. Looked like he didn’t have any other choice except to go out like that.
And be known as the sloppy senator from Ohio who didn’t know how to dress properly. This was just great.
“Give me your shirt.”
Kurt’s words struck him like a freight train. Blaine blinked slowly, then looked up and over to the door where Kurt was heading back out to his own desk. “Excuse me?” he shouted after him, but started to unbutton it anyway. Kurt came back inside with a small bag in hand, holding out his hand as soon as Blaine was shrugging out of his shirt.
“Have you read the updated notes for today’s session yet?” he asked while he sank down into the couch cushions.
Blaine felt his heart constrict. “There was an update?” he asked in a small voice. Would this day never stop being an ass to him?
Kurt looked up from Blaine’s shirt on his lap, his gaze scrutinizing. Then he nodded in the direction of Blaine’s desk. “The folder in your inbox,” he said while opening the small bag. Blaine turned and grabbed the folder, flipping it open with trepidation and skimming the additions. It wasn’t anything too major, thank god, but it was good Kurt had pointed it out, or Blaine might’ve unintentionally made an idiot of himself in session today.
He looked up to thank Kurt once more, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Kurt with a needle and thread, reattaching the first of the two lost buttons with a quiet efficiency that spoke of long years of practice. Blaine’s mouth dropped open and his breath quickened. Jesus, he never would’ve thought that he’d find a man who could sew so damn attractive but... well, the living, breathing proof that he did was sitting right in front of him, snipping off the thread and starting on the second button.
“Do you even know how awesome you are?” Blaine breathed. He couldn’t help himself. It was a choice of either showing his deep rooted worship for Kurt’s efficiency, or falling down on his knees and declaring his undying love for him. He’d rather go with the worship, that one could be explained away with Kurt’s sense for professionalism in every situation.
Kurt huffed a laugh. “Thanks,” he replied, not even looking up from his task. And sure enough, a minute later he snipped off the second thread with his scissors and handed the shirt back over. “There you go.”
His eyes flickered briefly over Blaine’s naked chest but snapped up to his face almost immediately. Blaine had noticed, of course, and he had to swallow hard before he could croak out a heartfelt, “Thanks.” He shrugged into his shirt hurriedly and buttoned it up, not allowing himself to think too much about Kurt’s quick glance. It was probably just a reflex anyway, nothing personal.
Kurt had packed away his sewing kit and was standing up, walking out the door to stow it away. Blaine grabbed his suit jacket, his updated notes and followed him. He’d have to do without a tie today, but there were worse things he supposed. Like missing two buttons.
Kurt, once again, was his angel in disguise. Before Blaine could hurry past him, his hand shot out and grabbed his elbow. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Blaine frowned. “Uhm, the... Capitol?” he ventured. Kurt rolled his eyes at him.
“Without a tie?” he asked, then reached up and loosened the knot on his own tie before pulling it over his head. “Head down,” he ordered, and Blaine obeyed without question.
“It’s a good thing it’s black,” Kurt murmured when he stepped up close and put the tie over Blaine’s head. “At least it won’t clash with your suit.” His fingers were deft and sure when they flipped up the collar of Blaine’s shirt and then positioned the tie neatly. The whole thing was done in no time, and yet it was enough to make Blaine feel dizzy from the proximity and Kurt’s scent. He wanted to sway into him and bury his face against his neck, wanted to forget the awful day and just lose himself in Kurt and his feelings for him.
But he didn’t. Instead he stepped back when Kurt declared him acceptable for the public. Blaine’s eyes wandered to Kurt’s now bare collar, and he swallowed again. He looked surprisingly sexy without the tie. If he opened a button or two he might even start a riot...
Blaine shook his head to dislodge that alarming thought, smiled at Kurt and said, “If I didn’t have you, Kurt, I swear to god...”
“You’d be lost and everyone would think you're sleeping under a bridge,” Kurt finished his sentence, sinking down into his seat and looking back up at Blaine with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll make sure your suit will be dry cleaned right away.”
Blaine could’ve kissed him for his foresight. “You’re an angel, Kurt, thank you.”
Kurt’s cheeks pinked slightly, but he didn’t comment on Blaine’s words. He just raised an eyebrow. “It’s my job, sir. You might fall into a ditch and die if I don’t take care of you. Speaking of which,” he interrupted himself, checking his wrist watch. “You have to go now or you really will be late.”
Blaine’s gaze flew to the clock above Kurt’s desk. “Shit, you’re right.” He raised his hand to wave at him, then hurried out of the office and threw his suit jacket on. He stopped abruptly at the doors and turned back around, meeting Kurt’s questioning gaze.
“When I get back?” Blaine said, smiling lopsidedly. “I want to hear the story of why you have a sewing kit in your desk.”
Kurt stared at him for a beat, then smiled mysteriously. “Maybe,” he replied. “But definitely not if you embarrass this whole office by being late to a session!”
“I’m going, I’m going,” Blaine laughed, waved one last time and hurried out the door.