For colferobsessedajc, who prompted for me: One borrowing the other's clothes.

Rachel was gone for three weeks for work, longer than she had ever been before. Publicity for her latest show had taken her out to L.A. and Atlanta and a few other spots to do interviews. It hadn't been so bad being without his wife during the first week for Kurt. Their apartment was quiet, and he actually had gotten a lot of work done at Vogue. But the second week was harder as he tossed restlessly on their bed. He was up late nights, just absolutely missing her presence. He missed her constant comments about the latest new revival off Broadway, her cheating co-workers, and them discussing the latest dirt on Hollywood celebrities. Then there was the little things. Her shoes scattered across the apartment where she randomly took them off to have dance parties when a song she adored came on the stereo. Her morning vocal runs. Her sleepy moments when she was so tired but wouldn't admit it. She'd lay on his chest on the couch, her breathing steady on his neck. They often fell asleep like that, the movie or T.V. show forgotten.

It was those little moments on the couch that he was missing the most. She smelled so much like... Rachel that it made him ache at the memory. It wasn't even her shampoo, her perfume, or even their fabric softener. It was her. The scent of her skin. The comforting feeling of knowing she was beside him. The sound of their wedding rings clinking against each other as they clasped hands.

Kurt sighed. He wasn't going to get any sleep this way. He got up out of bed to go to the bathroom to get his emergency stash of Ambien when he spotted one of Rachel's sweaters on the floor behind a chair. He hadn't even noticed it when he straightened up the room. He picked it up and moved to put it in the laundry basket when he was overwhelmed by Rachel. He put his nose into the fabric, just breathing it in. It smelled like her so much that he hugged it close and pushed his face further into it.

They had spoken, sure. She called him whenever she woke up and made sure to tell him good night each night. A voice on a piece of metal and plastic versus a warm body next to you whispering in your ear were so vastly different that they weren't the same at all.

The countertenor moved to go back to bed, taking the sweater with him. His younger self would have been appalled he was anywhere near one of Rachel's sweaters without a lighter, but just the feel of the fabric and the familiarity of Rachel wrapped up in his arms pushed those thoughts out of his mind as he found himself drifting off to sleep.

By the second and third day of that week, the scent was starting to fade. He guiltily went through her side of the closet, pulling out another one. It was only for a few more days, he told himself. He'd wash them all up and put them back in the closet and Rachel would never be the wiser.

By the third week, he had a small pile forming on her pillow.

Rachel had come in on a red-eye a day early to surprise Kurt. She hoped he wasn't working late and that they could spend the weekend together. It had been difficult being apart from him for so long, but fulfilling at the same time as her fans had been so supportive wherever she went. She was exhausted by the time she finally made it out of the airport, and took a taxi back to the apartment. The lights were off as she opened the door, save for a small light in the kitchen. The brown haired female dropped her bags in the hallway and gently opened the door to their bedroom. Her husband was curled up next to her pillow, his fingers grasping one of her favorite cardigans. It was red and cashmere, and she had just worn it the week before she had left. She smiled softly at the sight. Undressing quickly and padding around the room quietly as she could, Rachel decided waking him up to celebrate her homecoming could wait a few hours. Rachel was too tired to even try to wake him up. She turned down her side of the bed, almost laughing at the sight of her clothes all folded neatly in a stack. She sat them on the floor and carefully took the cashmere one from his grip. The brunette slipped into bed and pulled close to Kurt. Instinctively, he moved closer to Rachel in his sleep as if he knew she was there. She ran her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes.

"And he wondered why half my suitcase was packed with his clothes," said Rachel softly as she pulled up the sheet and comforter and let herself be lulled to sleep by the sound of the city outside. She could tease him about it in the morning.