Romcommy as fuck, if I do say so myself.

Santana had had it up to here with Hummel and Anderson. Their cubicles were right outside her office door, putting in her in perfect earshot of their near constant bickering and making her blood pressure skyrocket.

"Anderson, I realize it's still 1955 in your closet, but do you really have to use Post-It notes to keep track of everything that goes on around here? Join the twenty-first century, honestly."

"You realize you can use pens for writing instead of forming that stick up your ass, right, Hummel? Or is physically writing stuff down too twentieth century for you?"

"Fuck off."

"You first."

"Enough!" Santana yelled from her office, smiling in satisfaction when both of them jumped. "Hummel! Anderson! In here, now!"

They scurried in quickly, and she got up to close the door behind them before sitting on her desk and glaring at them.

"I'm assigning you both a project to work on. Together."

Kurt squawked in indignation as Blaine's brows shot up in surprise. Practically in unison, they said, "Excuse me?!"

"You heard me. I'm tired of hearing you two bitch at each other like we're on some bad TLC show, so you're working on a project together for the next three months." She held up a hand to cut off their new round of outrage. "You know that storage area in the basement? You're going to sort it and clean it up so we can actually find shit in there again. If either of you tries to flake out or I come down and hear you two bickering instead of working, you're both fired."

"That's not-"

"Without references," she finished, shutting them both up. "Get to it, boys."

They left her office, pale and silent. Once they were out of earshot, she let out a few snickers. Maybe forcing them to work together would help them finally realize their feelings for each other were a little more loving than they currently thought.

Worse comes to worst, I can reward them with a celebratory dinner out for a job well done, she thought. Maybe getting them drunk will make them finally see the light.

Kurt was going to strangle Santana. Putting him on a project with Anderson? Obtuse, uptight, adorable Anderson?

No, not adorable! he told himself, shaking his head slightly. Stuck-up. Smug. Handso - NO!

"You gonna help me out, or are we already fucked?" Anderson said, breaking into Kurt's internal monologue. "I realize you're prissy as all hell, but-"

"I'm prissy?" Kurt interrupted, offended. "You're the one who cuts up his salad at lunchtime like Emily Goddamn Post is going to walk in any second and reprimand you for taking big bites."

"Last week you refused to toss me your spare roll of tape because you were afraid the motion would wrinkle your shirt wrong, so yeah, I think you're a little prissy, Hummel!" Anderson heaved a deep breath as he finished talked, and Kurt absolutely refused to note how broad his chest looked as it expanded in his thin button-down shirt. "God, you're so-"

"I don't hear you working!" Santana called from the doorway, making them both flinch. "I'll give you a pass for this one, but just remember: fuck up again and you're gone. Now, let me hear you say something nice about each other before I go back upstairs."

Kurt just stared at her, flabbergasted, but Anderson begrudgingly spoke up.

"I admire how detail-oriented you are, Kurt. Both in your work and your sartorial choices," he muttered, looking studiously at the floor.

"I - uh," Kurt began, startled that Anderson - or, well, he should probably call him Blaine if they were going to play nice - said anything flattering about him. "I'm impressed that you manage to stay cheerful even on the longest days, Blaine. And your bow ties aren't half-bad, I guess."

"Was that really so hard?" Santana said with a grin. "You'll be best friends before you know it. Toodles!"

Kurt glared after her, noting that Blaine was doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

"Maybe we can work on hating Santana more than we hate each other?" he said quietly.

"Right now, I don't think that'll be too hard," Blaine said, flashing a brief smile that made Kurt's heart flutter for a moment in his chest. "So, uh - where do you wanna start?"

"I'll tackle the the left side, you take the right, and we'll meet in the middle? We can use this table to start alphabetical piles," Kurt suggested, taking in the myriad of filing cabinets that surrounded them.

"Sounds good to me," Blaine said, wandering over and getting to work.

Kurt allowed himself a quick look at Blaine's ass before opening his own cabinet and settling in. Somehow, working with Anderson didn't feel like the worst task in the world anymore.

One month into their project, and Kurt and Blaine had fallen into a somewhat comfortable silence as they worked, exchanging the barest pleasantries before diving back into their respective cabinets. It wasn't exactly friendly, but they weren't at each other's throats anymore, either, which Kurt could only view as progress.

"Oh my God," Blaine laughed suddenly, snapping Kurt out of his reverie.

"What?" Kurt replied, curious.

"I found some old hate mail that must've come in after we ran that spread on weddingwear featuring only queer couples a couple years ago, remember?" When Kurt nodded, Blaine continued, "It's all terribly misspelled and angry, like how dare you put a lesbean couple in my magazine! Your the worst!"

"Homophobes read Vogue?" Kurt asked, walking over to see the letters for himself. "I thought the National Enquirer was more their level."

"They must be the best dressed assholes in the country," Blaine said, smiling up at Kurt.

"I'm sure there's an underwear model out there who'd be offended by that remark," Kurt teased.

"Did Kurt Hummel just crack a joke?" Blaine said, eyes widening in faux-shock. "Be still my beating heart."

"I'll have you know that plenty of people think I'm funny!" Kurt said, scowling. "And it's not like I've ever heard you cut loose, Blaine."

"Fine, fine, um - We could write back like 'Your homophobia is not the new black'?" Blaine said tentatively.

Kurt burst into laughter. "That was so lame, oh my God!"

"You put me on the spot!" Blaine cried. "I don't do well under pressure!"

"At least you're cute," Kurt said. He froze when his brain processed what his mouth had just done.

"You're not so bad yourself," Blaine said after a moment. He even shot Kurt a wink before hastily turning back to his cabinets, a light blush on his cheeks.

Kurt scurried back over to his own work, feeling a matching blush pop up on his own face as well. They worked in silence for a while longer until Kurt unearthed a stack of truly egregious photos from the seventies that Blaine just had to see.

And if they didn't get much work done after laughing at those pictures, well, at least they were developing a better friendship, and wasn't that the real goal?

It was their last day on the project, and Kurt was honestly feeling a little blue about it. He and Blaine would still be next to each other upstairs, of course, but he was afraid that going back to their old setting would put them right back at square one, and he really didn't want to go backwards in their relationship - quite the opposite, actually.

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine said as he arrived. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Kurt said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. He turned away from his cabinets to take a seat at the table. "What's up?"

"Well, there's this guy I kind of want to ask out, but I don't know what he'd like to do," Blaine said, coming to sit next to Kurt. "So I was hoping you could give me some ideas."

Kurt felt his heart sink. "Oh! Yeah, I can - I can do that," he said, hoping his disappointment wasn't too evident. "Well, you can't go wrong with a nice dinner out. And then maybe ice skating at Rockefeller? It's not super original, but cliches can still be cute, you know?"

"Is that something you'd like to do?" Blaine asked softly, trying to look Kurt in the eyes - Kurt had averted his own gaze to the fake wood grain of the table.

"Does it matter what I would like?" Kurt said, not looking up at Blaine. "Your mystery guy-"

"-Is you, dumbass," Blaine interrupted. When Kurt snapped his gaze up to Blaine, Blaine rolled his eyes. "What, did you think I'd honestly come to you for help wooing another guy?"

"I didn't - you mentioned that guy in payroll the other week-" Kurt stuttered, caught off-guard.

"I said I'd had a crush on him months ago," Blaine said. "The only one I've had my eye on recently is you, but I thought you hated me-"

"I thought you hated me!"

"So we've been sniping at each other for nothing?" Blaine asked.

"It was that or shove my tongue down your throat in the middle of the office, and I thought you wouldn't really appreciate that," Kurt said, shrugging.

"Think again," Blaine said.

Kurt couldn't tell if he leaned in first or if Blaine did. He didn't particularly care once Blaine's mouth was on his, though, more concerned with chasing the taste of coffee and blueberries on Blaine's lips.

"I'm free tomorrow," Kurt said once they broke apart enough to speak, trying not to gasp for breath too audibly. "If you want to have that date."

"Is that even up for debate?" Blaine asked, pressing his forehead to Kurt's. "Of course. Of course." He leaned in for another kiss, which Kurt eagerly accepted.

They only broke apart when Santana started applauding as she arrived for their final project inspection, both blushing furiously at the wicked smirk on her face.