Blaine made it sound like the easiest thing in the world.
“Frank, we are no longer in relaxing mode. We are now in survival mode!”
“Will you stop being so dramatic? Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Where’s the rumham?! Where’s the rumham?! aaaahhhhhh! Rumham!”
“Frank, stay in the boat! Frank, stay in the boat!”
“Rumham! Ruuuumhaaam! I’m sorry rumham!”— Frank and Mac
“Shhh, he’s sleeping.”
Kurt clamped his lips closed, smiling at the sight of Blaine seated in his usual chair, Toronto draped across his chest and sleeping soundly.
“Sorry,” he whispered, tiptoeing over the his husband and kneeling down to kiss his son on the forehead.
“It’s okay,” Blaine said, smiling and tilting his head up so Kurt could press a kiss to his lips. “How was work?”
“Long,” Kurt sighed, slipping off his coat as he straightened up and hanging it up on the wall. “How’s he been today?”
“Not bad,” Blaine said, smiling as he pushed a few strands of dark hair off the sleeping baby’s forehead. “He was fussy this morning after you left but he settled down when I turned on the recording from your last show.”
Kurt grinned. “He does have good taste,” he said, slipping off his shoes.
Blaine made a faint sound of a amusement, eyes still trained on the little boy in his arms.
“I’m going to go get washed up and then I’ll start dinner,” Kurt said, moving to stand behind Blaine to squeeze his shoulders.
“What?” Blaine said, twisting his head around to look at him. “No, babe, I can make it, you had rehearsal all day.”
“It’s fine,” Kurt said, kissing his temple. “Let him sleep.”
Blaine smiled and Kurt gave his shoulders a final squeeze before moving towards the hall. He stopped at the doorway of their bedroom, biting his lip as he looked back as his family, Blaine combing his fingers through their son’s hair with a look of love on his features.
Kurt smiled, drumming his fingers against the wall for a moment before retreating to the bedroom, humming happily.