#ghghhgh

Part of him wishes Hank would have at least called that he would be late or something. He knows Hank isn’t the type to stand him up, that would literally be impossible considering that their date was taking place in their shared apartment. He pulls off the stems of the strawberries, as if he’s asking them if Hank McCoy really loves him or not. 

It’s childish, Kurt knows that much. But anything to take his mind off of the slight burn of being forgotten. He looks at the tealight that he had underneath the fondue holder and sighed. He really did plan the perfect romantic night only for Hank to get tied up with someone else. 

Kurt had even cleaned and brushed his coat, so that he would be nice and fluffy for the night. But as the hours pull closer and closer to midnight, part of him realizes that nothing would be happening, tonight. He sighs inwardly, and grabs the last strawberry from the box, before hearing the door unlock. 

Much like a cat, Kurt jumps up in his seat. He shoves the strawberry in his mouth before jumping towards the door, opening it up with excitement despite the fact that he is disappointed in Hank. 

“You’re late.” Kurt says, with hand on his hip, demanding an explanation. “Three hours late.”

Hank smiles, and presses a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “Let me live, will you? I bought you flowers to make up for it.”

He has a bouquet of lilies and roses. And a bottle of plum wine. It makes Kurt smile, but he still tries to play the frustrated husband. 

“Where were you! I ate all the strawberries while you were gone…” Kurt buries his face in Hank’s fur. “I thought you forgot about me!” He plays into the dramatics. Hank doesn’t mind it, and usually encourages it.