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When they were 25, Sophie finally decided it was time to replace The Ugly Couch.
It deserved the implied capitalization of its name. An awkwardly shaped, full-length monstrosity of pale green and pink chintz, it was truly the ugliest couch anyone had ever seen. It had no pillows (and Sophie had never bought any, as she could find nothing that matched), one of the arms tilted precariously, and it made strange creaking noises if you slept on it.
She’d gotten the couch for free when she moved into the apartment, vowing up, down and sideways that it would only be there for a few months before she scraped up the cash to buy a new one. It ended up staying in the apartment for four years. There had been no opportunity to replace it because someone was always sleeping on it: Trent for nearly three months their junior year of college, then Wes, then Blaine, then Wes again before he was replaced by Jeff, and so on until suddenly one day, something in it made a horrible cracking noise and the whole couch sagged sadly in the middle. So it was time for it to go.
Sebastian had (reluctantly) agreed to help her move it down the four flights of stairs to the street and, knowing how useless his boyfriend (fiancé. Oh my god, fiancé) was at moving furniture, Blaine decided to tag along.
Inevitably, they stalled. Neither of them really felt like attempting to move the couch, knowing it would get stuck somewhere between the second and third floors, that Blaine would drop it on his foot at least once, and that they’d all be tired and cranky by the time they finally dragged it into the alley and bid it goodbye. So Sebastian mumbled a “fuck this couch” within two minutes of walking in the door and went to make himself busy in the kitchen, and Sophie dragged Blaine into her room for advice on a dress she had to wear to the Julliard alumni dinner that was coming up.
“Hey, Soph?” they heard Sebastian call from the kitchen as Sophie tried on the third pair of shoes, which still didn’t meet with Blaine’s approval. (He wasn’t great with women’s fashion, but Sophie insisted he had a good eye for color, which is what she needed, and since when could he say no to her?)
“Yeah?” she shouted back, throwing the rejected silver heels back into the closet.
“Where do you keep that soup pot? The one I used for--- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK?!”
Blaine and Sophie ran across the apartment at a dead sprint, crashing to a halt at the open archway to the kitchen. Sebastian was crouched on the kitchen counter, having leapt straight up there out of pure terror. Below him on the kitchen floor, staring curiously at him, was a cat. A hairless cat.
“What the fuck is that thing?” Sebastian demanded, trying to find his balance and dignity.
They couldn’t answer. They were laughing too hard, leaning on each other for support, tears running from their eyes. Sebastian just glared at them, full force, for the five minutes it took for them to compose themselves.
When Sophie finally managed to stop gasping for air, she casually walked over and picked up the cat, which nuzzled into her neck affectionately. “Oh come on, Seb. Never seen a cat before?” She held the cat out to her brother, who nearly fell off the counter. “See? He’s cute.”
“That is a hairless cat. A hairless. Cat. Why the hell do you own a cat with no hair??”
“He was at the shelter, Sebastian. They were going to put him down.”
“You could have any cat in the fucking world. And you pick the one that looks like Satan’s personal favorite.”
“Oh stop. You’re just mad because you’re scared of cats.”
Blaine snorted, which made Sebastian square his shoulders indignantly (or as much as he could, as he was still struggling to balance on the counter). “I am not scared of cats. That is not a cat. It’s a small monster.”
The cat mewed and rubbed the top of its head against Sophie’s cheek. “Fine, be that way.” She stuck her lower lip out in an exaggerated, childish pout, though Blaine could see the laughter in her eyes. “Rex and I are going to finish trying on shoes. Blaine, this is your cue.” With that, she turned on one heel and, still biting back giggles, dramatically flounced out of the kitchen, the cat staring at Sebastian over her shoulder.
Blaine lasted all of five seconds before he started laughing again, doubled over, hands on his knees.
“Oh, go ahead,” Sebastian drawled, rolling his eyes as he stepped down from the counter. “Laugh all you want. You’ll see how much you like that cat the next time you sleep over here.”
Blaine wiped his eyes, still giggling a bit. “Sorry. But. Oh my god, Sebastian. You got scared of a cat.”
“That thing isn’t… Whatever.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and refused to continue. Blaine couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend (fiancé, it was official now, it was still such a delight to think and say the word). He walked over and pulled Sebastian’s hands from his pockets, lacing their fingers together. It was only then that Sebastian met his eyes.
“It was cute.”
“You don’t ever get to tell anyone that happened.”
“I think Sophie will take care of that.”
Sebastian sighed dramatically, but a small smile had started to play on his lips. “Probably.”
Blaine stood on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on the taller man’s cheek, then sank back down and wrapped his arms around his waist, leaning in to press his ear to Sebastian’s heart, sinking into the scent of his cologne. Sebastian returned the embrace and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. They stood like that for a long moment, just holding each other.
“You have to admit it was pretty funny.”
“Oh, shut up.”