
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2246034.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel
  Character:
      Blaine_Anderson, Kurt_Hummel, Cooper_Anderson, Sebastian_Smythe
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Difference
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-11-08 Chapters: 27/27 Words: 88234
****** It's Not Babysitting ******
by anxioussquirrel
Summary
     AU, present time. Kurt Hummel is 28 and has been living in New York
     for ten years now. He has a good job, nice apartment and two best
     friends anyone could wish for: Sebastian, a snarky lawyer, and
     Cooper, a workaholic investment specialist. What he doesn't have is
     luck in relationships. But then Blaine, Cooper's 17-year-old brother
     comes to NY to spend the summer. He turns out to be gorgeous and
     quickly develops a huge crush on Kurt...
***** Chapter 1 *****
The weather was crazy. Someone up there had to have mixed up the cards in their
calendar because 93 degrees in New York on an early June evening was  not  what
anyone would consider normal. The city radiated heat like an oven and Kurt
cursed under his breath, feeling his shirt stick to his sweaty back as he
walked the short distance for the usual Sunday evening get-together with his
two best friends. At least the theater hadn’t needed him to come today. He
didn’t even want to think how unbearable the heat must have been earlier.
He reached the door to their favorite coffee bar and sighed with relief as the
air conditioning hit him. Cool, not freezing – one more reason to like the
place; besides the fact that it was within walking distance from his apartment,
and it served both excellent coffee and quality liquors. This last part was
quite important, considering the diversity of their drinking habits.
As soon as he moved towards their usual table, a loud whoop greeted him, making
other patrons look at him curiously. The barista didn’t even blink, perfectly
used to Sebastian’s antics after three years of their meetings here.
“Only twenty five minutes late today, baby doll, not bad!" The tall, thin man
sprawled comfortably in a plushy chair raised his glass of whiskey – always
whiskey, only the best the bar had – and grinned widely.
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Seb. I had an idea, I had to take notes.”
“Another one? I hope you don’t run out of room in that lovely head of yours one
day, what with all your ideas. The usual?” Sebastian got up and stretched,
revealing a strip of flat belly under his navy t-shirt. Kurt shook his head.
“Not with the weather; I’ll have a frappe. Where’s Coop?” A half-full cup of
black drip coffee stood abandoned on the table, so the last of their trio must
have been here at some point.
Sebastian gestured to the bar's side door, already walking backwards towards
the counter. It was his turn to buy drinks tonight.
“He got a call from his brother. Made a face like he was constipated and fled
to do his pacing outside.”
As if summoned, a handsome man with a phone pressed to his ear passed by the
glass door, turned around and walked in the opposite direction, talking and
gesticulating wildly all along. Kurt settled into the oversized armchair they
always left for him and focused on cooling his brain after the short walk.
He had just taken the first sip of his coffee when Cooper stormed back in, his
hair messy – from running his fingers through, Kurt knew – and his blue eyes
shooting firebolts.
“Seb, I need a drink.” He dropped to his chair and pushed his coffee away with
disgust. “Wait, make it double.”
Sebastian whooped and stood up gracefully again. “Finally one of you will drink
with me. Vodka with coke again or can I tempt you into a finer liquor for
once?”
“Whatever.”
Cooper's head thumped against the table and stayed like this until a glass with
a generous amount of amber liquid was pushed into his hand. Only then did he
look up and gulp half of the whiskey in one go, before exploding in a violent
coughing fit.
Sebastian shook his head but didn’t comment until Cooper could talk again.
“So tell us, dear friend, what has your feathers ruffled? Daddy dearest again?”
Kurt winced. They both knew that even at 30, Cooper’s relationship with his
father was strained at best, so usually they kept away from the subject. But
Seb’s usual perceptiveness didn’t fail him. Coop’s face flushed with anger.
“Yeah.” He drank the rest of the whiskey, sans coughing this time. “He caught
Blaine with a boy – I don’t know all the details, but apparently it wasn’t very
PG – and served him one of his patented daddy speeches. Kid didn’t want to tell
me everything he said, but I can imagine it was bad; he was pretty upset. They
fought, and Blaine called to beg me to let him come stay with me for the
summer. I had no choice but to agree.”
Kurt felt the familiar surge of anger that always caught him when he heard
about homophobic jerks; one look at Sebastian told him that he did too. At 28,
they’d both learned a long time ago not to let the haters get to them, but it
didn't mean they'd forgotten how it had hurt when they were teenagers. Kurt
could only imagine how much worse it was when it came from your own family. He
touched Cooper’s arm, a comforting gesture.
“Well but that’s good, right? I mean, your brother will surely be better off
here with you than back in Ohio with your father.” He didn’t understand why
Cooper seemed so upset with this development.
“He will, but I have literally no time for him – with the promotion coming
through next week, the new responsibilities, not to mention the audit we’re
starting in July, I’ll be working late into the night most days. Hell, I can’t
even pick him up from the airport tomorrow because I have a meeting I can’t get
out of. I can’t let him run around New York by himself, can I? He's never been
here before. He’ll get run over by a cab, kidnapped, mugged, or seduced by some
creeper. And he can’t sit locked up in my apartment all summer. He'll need
someone to show him the city, teach him the safety rules, keep him company –”
Sebastian caught on first, raising his hands in a defensive gesture as soon as
Cooper paused to take a breath.
“Don’t look at me, I work just as much as you do. If he needs a lawyer, I can
help, but otherwise you’re out of luck. Try sweet cheeks here, he’s the one
with weird work time.”
Coop nodded and turned the pleading look at Kurt, whose eyes grew wide.
“Wait, what? No, come on – I may mostly work from home but it doesn’t mean I
have loads of free time. Besides, I’m not a babysitter, what I would do with a
kid?”
Cooper turned on the puppy eyes. Damn him, he knew perfectly well how to soften
Kurt.
“But he’s no baby, he’s seventeen, Kurt. Eighteen in August. He just needs some
company every now and then during the week, and someone to show him how to
safely navigate the city. Oh, and a ride from the airport tomorrow.”
“Coop –“
“I will love you forever and ever. I will do your taxes for the rest of your
life. I will –“
Kurt sighed. He knew he’d regret this, but the truth was, he’d do almost
anything for his friends, and it wasn’t even that much. He’d just have to
reorganize his schedule a little and curb his artistic (read: chaotic) attitude
for the days when he’d be showing the city to the boy.
“Okay. I’ll do it, okay.”
Cooper jumped up from his chair and pulled Kurt up for a hug. “You’re the best,
Kurt. Thank you! And you won’t get bored, I promise, Blaine is –“
Kurt didn’t hear what Blaine was like because right then he was glomped from
behind, Sebastian’s enthusiastic voice loud in his ear. “Group hug!"
Kurt stood in the Arrivals at the airport with a large cup of extra strong
coffee, feeling cranky and still half-asleep. He had already cursed himself –
in English, French and bad Spanish, for good measure – for being too soft to
refuse Cooper’s request. In the two hours he’d been awake, he’d also cursed his
iPhone for blaring the alarm at him at eight a.m., the heat that was already
building towards unbearable, the cab driver for singing loudly with the radio,
and the plane from Columbus for being fifteen minutes late. Most of the
elaborate invectives had been muttered under his breath, of course. Kurt Hummel
might have been a picture of bitchiness in the morning, but he still had class.
He hated mornings. He was a typical night bird, the extent of which he
discovered once he’d started working from home as a theater costume designer,
and realized how much more creative and productive he was at night. He firmly
believed that his fast career rise had been mostly due to the fact that he’d
allowed his brain to work on its natural schedule. For years now, Kurt had been
spending his nights designing and sewing, rarely going to bed before five a.m.
and usually getting up around noon. His employers – the theater on Broadway
that had virtually bought him away from his previous workplace – were more than
happy to accommodate his needs and only had him work with actors in the
afternoons and evenings.
The need to pick Blaine up at ten in the morning meant that Kurt had gotten
less than three hours of sleep. And too little sleep always turned him into a
snappy, glaring creature, with a tendency for his brain to wander away without
permission.
Right now, waiting for the Columbus passengers to appear, Kurt was pretty
certain that this day could only get worse. With his luck, Coop’s younger
brother would turn out to be a loud, whiny, demanding brat, with no respect for
other people’s space and time, and annoying habits to boot. God, what if he
listened to some awful music? Or, even worse, dressed in a way that would make
Kurt ashamed to be seen with him? There had to be a reason Cooper had never
invited Blaine to come to New York before, and hardly even talked about him.
In fact, the only picture of the younger Anderson brother Kurt had ever seen
was a small printout of a 12-year-old boy with daisies woven into his curly
black hair. He looked nice enough, but that was over five years ago. Now, Kurt
rather expected to see a gangly teenager with wild curls and acne. Cooper
hadn’t been much help either. He hadn’t visited his family home for over three
years, and when asked about his brother’s appearance, he’d shrugged.
“You’ve seen the picture in my apartment. Add a couple of years.”
Very helpful, indeed.
Kurt would just drop the boy off at Coop’s apartment, which was only a block
from his own, and return home to get some more sleep. The city tour could wait
until the weather and the hour were more acceptable.
The doors opened and passengers began to file out, but Kurt couldn’t see anyone
matching the picture in his head. Ten minutes later, he was still waiting.
Suddenly, there was a pleasant male voice by Kurt’s side.
“Excuse me – I think you may be waiting for me.”
Kurt was pretty sure he wasn’t, but he’d learned long ago never to say noto
pick-up attempts without at least checking if the man was worth it. The rule
had given him a few terrible dates, quite a lot of fantastic sex, and once, a
short relationship. So even annoyed and impatient, he looked towards the voice.
And blinked, surprised.
This was definitely one of the times he’d regret saying no. The man standing
before him was shorter and clearly younger than him, maybe around 22, but
stunningly attractive, with a handsome face and warm eyes. His dark hair was
carefully styled back and he was wearing a bowtie with his black polo shirt.
That alone was enough to make Kurt’s pulse quicken slightly. He answered the
small smile on the stranger’s face with his own.
“Thank you, gorgeous, but I’m actually waiting for someone. You can leave me
your number though, I’ll call you.”
Confusion flashed through the man’s features, making him suddenly look younger.
“Um, no, I mean... You are Mr. Hummel, aren’t you? My brother sent me your
picture last night. I’m Blaine Anderson.”
Kurt felt all color drain from his face. So this was Coop’s baby brother?
“Oh. Oh fuck, um – Dammit, I’m sorry. Let’s start over, okay?” He offered his
hand to the man – boy, he corrected himself – with his signature charming
smile. “Hi, nice to meet you. Please don’t call me Mr. Hummel, okay? It’s
Kurt.”
Some of the nerves melted away from Blaine’s lovely eyes – they were completely
different from Cooper’s, golden like that crushed velvet Kurt had used the last
bits of the other day. He took Kurt’s extended hand and shook it shortly.
“Hi. Thank you for picking me up. I hope I’m not a problem. I told Coop I can
just take a cab but he didn’t want to hear it.”
Handsome andpolite? That didn’t happen often.
“It’s okay. Cooper wants me to take you to his apartment, so we’ll go get a cab
now. I hope he left you something to eat – he may not be back until late. If
not, there are plenty of takeout menus stuck to the fridge.”
Blaine nodded. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to taking care of myself.”
It was quiet, and Kurt felt his empathy wake up from its slumber and perk its
ears. He knew loneliness – he'd studied it all too well, all the sad shades of
it, when he first came to New York. And he had no doubt that this was what he
heard in Blaine’s voice. Now that the awkward beginning of their meeting was
over, Kurt took a moment to really look at the boy. It was kind of his thing –
while Sebastian was brilliant at noticing details and drawing conclusions, Kurt
excelled in reading emotions from people’s faces, gestures and behavior. It
only took him seconds to take note of the dark shadows under the boy’s slightly
reddened eyes, his slumped posture, the way his smile only touched his lips.
Kurt felt himself soften towards his temporary charge, which was a feat,
considering his morning crankiness. Still, he was surprised when he heard his
mouth act before his brain did.
“Tell you what, Blaine. You could wait for Coop at my place instead, so that
you don’t have to sit in his empty, most likely messy apartment alone – unless
you’d rather go there, I mean. But I’m pretty sure he didn’t have time to call
the cleaning lady between last night and now.”
The golden eyes flashed with surprise. “But… I don’t want to intrude.”
Kurt shrugged. “You won’t,” and started walking towards the exit.
When Blaine reached his side again, with a guitar case over his shoulder and
dragging a big suitcase, Kurt added. “I can easily make lunch for two instead
of one, and when I go to the theater later, you can stay and do – I don’t know,
whatever.”
“A Broadway theater?” The curiosity in the boy’s voice was a pleasant surprise,
and Kurt nodded, holding the door to let Blaine pass with his baggage. “I love
Broadway! What are you going to see?”
Enthusiastic about theater, too? How come Cooper never said anything about
having such a treasure for a brother? Kurt smiled; he pointed at a free cab,
and they started towards it.
“Nothing, I work there – designing costumes. I have fittings this afternoon.
You could come with me if you wanted.”
Blaine stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, opening and closing his
mouth in clear astonishment until Kurt pulled him towards the waiting cab. They
got in and started towards his apartment before Blaine spoke.
“I’m sorry, it's just... a bit of a shock. I've hoped to see a Broadway theater
while I'm here, but I've never expected to get inside one or actually see a
play! I’d loveto go, Mr. – um, Kurt. If it’s not a problem, that is.”
Kurt laughed. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to see it all for the first
time, when New York was all fresh and astounding. It felt nice to remember that
wide-eyed delight, experience it again through this boy’s reactions. Maybe
showing him the highlights of the city wouldn’t be a boring chore, after all.
“Of course it’s not a problem, as long as you can be quiet and non-distractive.
You can sit in the rehearsal, too.”
“Really? Wow. Thank you!”
The rest of the ride passed in silence as Blaine took in the vast, crowded city
they were driving through, his eyes huge and fascinated. In many ways, he
reminded Kurt of himself when he’d first arrived in New York, excited and
hopeful for good things to happen here. He was barely a year older than Blaine
then. That seemed so long ago.
                                      ***
Blaine stole another glance at Kurt as they were waiting for the elevator. He
didn’t want to be rude, but he had a hard time keeping himself from staring.
Kurt was just… wow. Insanely attractive, for one. Blaine saw it in the picture
Cooper sent him, but it was nothing compared to what the man looked like in
reality, with his graceful movements and expressive face. Not to mention, the
picture didn’t show Kurt’s legs that were –
Um, okay. Enough.
Besides, it wasn’t even the physical appeal that fascinated Blaine most. If he
wasn't gravely mistaken, the man standing beside him was living proof that you
could be openly gay and find your place in the world – have friends, flirt with
people, have a career. Theoretically, Blaine knew this was possible. But with
everything he so often heard from his father, and the scars that he saw in the
mirror every day as a reminder of what a big part of society thought about
people like him – it was hard to really believe, sometimes. And assuming Kurt
really was gay, he seemed like a poster boy for the It Gets Better campaign.
Blaine really needed the hope, especially after the hell of the previous day.
Having his father walk in on him with his boyfriend’s hand in his pants was bad
enough. Even after years of being barely tolerated, he wasn’t ready for the
stream of insults yelled at him in his living room. Nathan fled as fast as he
could, leaving Blaine alone to bear his father’s rage. There was a moment he
was sure the man would actually hit him, but no. Finally, he must have run out
of breath or curses, because he took whatever it was he’d come home for in the
middle of his workday, and left. Blaine shut himself in his room where he
curled on the bed to try and calm the violent shaking.
But then the call from Nathan came. And he wasn’t calling to make sure Blaine
was okay – he wanted to tell him that while he really liked him, he wasn’t
ready to be a part of such drama, so it was best for them to break up.
This was when Blaine called Cooper. It was an impulse; desperately reaching out
to the brother he hadn’t talked to for over a year. Blaine didn’t even remember
all the things he said, rambling mess that he was; he just knew that he begged
for a place to stay, away from his parents’ home. It was only when he opened an
email from Coop with his flight details fifteen minutes later, that he felt the
ground settle a bit beneath him.
There was a way out. It was temporary, but he’d take whatever he could get.
 
Kurt’s quiet voice shook him out of his thoughts now.
“Blaine? Hey, everything alright?”
He nodded and followed the man to the elevator. As soon as they were in,
however, Kurt spoke again.
“Okay, I can see something's bothering you. Spill. If you want to, I mean.”
Blaine shrugged; he could say it was nothing, but something in Kurt’s earnest
face made him open his mouth and spit it out.
“Are… are you gay?” Kurt looked at him as if he asked if water was wet, his
right brow arched, and Blaine blushed. “Okay, sorry, I just didn’t want to
assume. And… Cooper knows?”
The man snorted in amusement. “Of course he does. He didn’t tell you?”
“I didn’t even know that Cooper was accepting towards –“
“Are you kidding?” Kurt’s tone was still light, but Blaine didn’t miss the
flash of concerned disbelief on his face. “Both of his two best friends are
gay. He even went through a week-long queer phase himself two years ago. He was
so obnoxious about it that Sebastian got fed up and kissed him, which cured
Coop pretty quickly. I still maintain that it may have turned out differently
if I had kissed him instead. Seb’s kisses are like a conquering army, you need
to be prepared to appreciate them.”
A wink followed and Blaine couldn’t stop a smile spreading on his face. Kurt
made him feel so comfortable in spite of the new circumstances. He was just so
damn nice.
Kurt tilted his head. “You and Cooper aren’t too close then?”
There was a very interesting spot on the floor all of a sudden. “Not really. I
hardly know him anymore.”
A warm hand on his shoulder made him look up. “He’s a good guy. A workaholic
and a bit of a slob, but trust me, he’s great.”
The elevator stopped and Blaine nodded. “Thank you.” Kurt’s words and his
reassuring smile were enough to lessen his worries.
 
Kurt’s apartment turned out to be cozy and neat. A wall had been knocked down
between the living room and the kitchen, creating a comfortable space with
plenty of light streaming in through large, bare windows. Wide window seats
seemed perfect to curl up on with a book.
“Seasonal depression prevention.” Kurt said simply when he noticed Blaine’s
amazed expression. “When you mostly work nights and sleep through half of
daytime, every bit of light counts, especially in winter. Juice or coffee?" He
was already setting up the coffee maker. "I need more caffeine.”
“Coffee please. I didn’t sleep much last night.” He admitted to his own
surprise.
Thankfully, Kurt didn’t comment or inquire.
“That makes two of us,” he muttered. “How do you take it?”
“Black, sweet.”
Kurt shot him an intrigued look. “So is it a coincidence that you and your
brother's coffee orders are the same?”
Blaine felt himself blush. It was quite personal – and a bit silly – but he'd
already opened up a little about Coop, so... why not?
“Not really. More like a memento. When Cooper last visited, I was still too
young to drink coffee, but I remembered how he took it. Later, whenever I
really missed him, I made myself his coffee, until I just started to drink it
every day. I know, it’s stupid. But… he used to be my hero, you know? Before he
pulled away from me.”
For a brief moment his voice trembled slightly, and he was grateful when Kurt
pretended he didn’t notice anything.
“It’s not stupid,” he said, handing Blaine a spring green cup full of the
steaming, aromatic liquid. “Have you ever drank it any other way, though?”
“Not really.”
“It’s worth trying. To figure it out for yourself – maybe you’re more of a
cappuccino guy? Or latte?” Kurt raised his own cup and drank deeply, the bliss
on his face almost indecent.
Blaine took a sip of his coffee. It was delicious.
After a moment of silence Kurt looked at him thoughtfully.
“So feel free to tell me if you don’t want to talk about it, but I heard that
your parents aren’t exactly supportive of your sexuality.”
Blaine snorted humorlessly. That was one way to put it.
“How about school?”
Blaine shook his head. “Oh, no, school is great. I’m at Dalton Academy – it’s a
private school, with a zero tolerance bullying policy. I’m safe to be myself
there.”
Kurt smiled. He had a beautiful smile. “Good. Does your boyfriend go there
too?”
It felt like a punch to the solar plexus; he should probably start getting used
to talking about that, but he wasn’t there yet. And it wasn’t even that Nathan
was that special to him – they’d dated barely over two months and if someone
asked Blaine if he was in love with the guy, he wouldn't know what to say. But
Nathan was Blaine’s first boyfriend, and that in itself made him special. The
words hurt as he pushed them through his clenched throat.
“Ex-boyfriend now. But yes. He does.”
A small oh escaped Kurt’s lips before he said, quietly, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t, but Kurt had nothing to do with it. Blaine was just grateful that he
didn’t say that his boyfriend didn’t deserve him then, or any such nonsense
adults liked to say in these situations. Rationally, he knew it was true, but
he was far from ready to hear it from a virtual stranger. He changed the topic.
“How was it for you? In high school?”
Kurt leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee again.
“I had full support at home, but school was hell. I grew up not far from you,
actually. Lima. I couldn’t wait to graduate and get away from there. And I did,
first chance I got. In my case, the saying that your life begins in college was
true. Still, I wish I'd had an option of a school with a no tolerance policy;
it could have saved me loads of… issues. Does it actually work?”
Before long, Blaine was telling Kurt all about Dalton and the Warblers, his
voice animated and enthusiastic. And when they discovered that they shared the
experience of being in Glee clubs and found out about their mutual love of
music, the conversation flew easy and engaging until they suddenly realized
that lunch hour had come and gone, and it was almost time to go to the theater.
Helping Kurt make quick pasta, Blaine realized with an amazed smile that here,
in the most unlikely way he’d believe possible, he’d met the first adult who
actually listened to him, treated him like an equal, and truly understood his
experience. It felt wonderful; liberating. He hoped it wouldn’t be his first
and last day spent with Kurt, but just in case it was, he planned to enjoy it
the best he could.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Behind the closed door of his studio Kurt was cutting and pinning yards of deep
red velvet, listening to the soft notes coming from his living room. Before he
shut himself in here, making sure first that Blaine was okay with waiting for
his brother at his place rather than Cooper's, he told the boy that he could do
whatever he wanted while Kurt worked. He gave him the wifi access password and
the TV remote, pointed him towards his movies and book collections – but Blaine
only asked if he could use the piano standing neglected in the corner. It had
come with the apartment and Kurt used to play regularly, but lately he hadn’t
really felt like it.
It was after nine now, and the music had been flowing for the last hour. If
Kurt didn’t know it was the teenager in his living room, he’d swear it had to
be a recording. The boy was good. Some pieces Kurt knew, having played them
himself, though never with such proficiency, he had to admit. Others sounded
like piano interpretations of some top 40 hits and, to his surprise, songs from
the rehearsal Blaine had just attended.
The kid had never heard these songs before, he’d said so himself. When Kurt had
finished with the fittings and gone to get Blaine, he’d found him breathless
and awed, enchanted with everything. The theater, the actors, the rehearsal
process and the play itself. And now, Kurt could clearly recognize the melodies
he knew by heart after hearing them dozens of times. The boy just improvised on
them from the few times he heard them, without so much as a false note. Just
another impressive thing about Blaine Anderson.
Which didn’t change the fact that Kurt was currently hiding from him in the
seclusion of his studio.
So far, Blaine had proven to be easy company, so the dread Kurt had felt this
morning thinking about hours he’d have to spend “babysitting” was mostly gone
now. They’d talked amicably all through dinner at Kurt’s favorite Greek place
(he’d insisted on paying this time, joking about making an exception from his
“only pay on dates” rule, which made Blaine blush to the roots of his hair).
But by the time they made it back to Kurt’s apartment, the boy grew quiet and
kept looking longingly at his silent phone, clearly pining. Kurt understood, he
really did, but suddenly he felt exhausted. No matter how good the company, he
wasn’t used to spending so much time with other people. Maybe he wasn’t exactly
a loner, but he had a very strong need for independence and time alone. When he
was with someone, he always gave his all – all his attention and care, but that
much focus could only be maintained for a certain amount of time. And today he
was exhausted, too. So when they got to the apartment, his crankiness was close
to bubbling over, and he didn’t want it to explode all over the kid who did
nothing wrong, after all.
That’s why he escaped to his workroom. It was his happy place, and with the
music soothing his frayed nerves, his irritation melted away bit by bit. While
still tired, he got the second wind he needed.
The piano went silent for a moment before the soft notes came back, arranged
into a familiar melody. Before Kurt could recognize the song, he heard a voice
sing along, warm and smooth, and he stopped arranging the fabric on the
mannequin and just listened, transfixed.
                  You think I’m pretty without any make-up on
             You think I’m funny when I tell the punch line wrong
             I know you get me so I let my walls come down – down…
The popular song was softened in this version, slowed down until it was more
like a ballad than a pop hit, and it sounded lovely, sung with so much emotion
that Blaine’s voice trembled slightly and broke in places. It had to have a
special meaning for him, maybe somehow connected with the ex-boyfriend? It
almost felt like eavesdropping on a private moment, but Kurt couldn’t help
enjoying what he heard. Blaine clearly hadn’t been chosen for the frontman of
his Glee club for no reason.
The last notes of Teenage Dreammelted into silence and the apartment went
silent for a long while before Kurt heard the quiet chatter of the TV in the
background. He smiled to himself and sat down to begin sewing the first of
three gowns he needed to get started on tonight.
 
The next time Kurt looked up from his sewing, it was almost eleven – pretty
early by his standards, but where the hell was Cooper? His work day normally
ended at six, and while it wasn’t unusual for him to still be in his office at
eight, doing whatever it was he did, today it was really going too far, even
for him. Especially when his baby brother had just arrived to stay with him for
the summer.
Kurt checked his phone, in case he missed a text, but there was nothing.
Really, he’d have to kick Coop’s ass the minute he appeared – the kid could
really use some support from at least someone in his family. Shaking his head
incredulously, Kurt got up from the machine, stretched and went to check on
Blaine.
The TV was still on, some mindless talk show filling the silence, but Blaine
wasn’t watching. Curled on his side on the couch, he was asleep, looking small
and very young. Kurt sighed and took a soft red blanket from the back of the
couch to cover the sleeping boy. As he was tucking it gently around Blaine’s
shoulders, he noticed something small and grey on the black rug and reached to
pick it up. It was a little fuzzy teddy bear, not bigger than his hand. Blaine
must have held it as he fell asleep. It looked new, so Kurt doubted it was a
childhood memento – more likely a gift from the boyfriend; something familiar
to hold onto in this faraway city, in a strange apartment.
God, the kid must feel so alone here.
Kurt remembered what it felt like to be rejected, unaccepted and called names
just because he was gay. He remembered the pain of his first breakup, too (and
he'd also had a memento – the guy’s scarf that he'd found in his room and
carried with him everywhere for weeks). But he was never without support. He
had his family. And here Blaine was, having endured both rejection and breakup
just the previous day – alone.
The anger that flared in Kurt’s chest wasn’t new, but it was hotter than usual.
It was bad enough when it was about strangers, anonymous boys and girls on the
news that were only connected to him by a similar fate, the fact that their
sexuality (or gender identification, for that matter) made their lives that
much more challenging. But now, it wasn’t a stranger – it was Kurt’s best
friend’s little brother; it was a kind, incredibly talented boy with wide
golden eyes and a hunger for life; a kid who really deserved so much better
than what he was getting from his own family.
And this time, Kurt’s anger would find the proper recipient.
He tucked the little teddy into Blaine’s half-open hand, switched off the TV
and lights, went to his bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him, already
choosing the number from his phone.
                                      ***
Cooper was on his way when Kurt called. Ten minutes later he let himself in
with his set of keys – and was immediately grabbed and pulled into the bedroom,
the door closing behind him like a deathtrap. Cooper knew Kurt way too well to
even try to excuse himself – the steely glint in those narrowed eyes meant
trouble. So he just braced himself for the explosion.
“Cooper Evan Anderson.” Uh-oh. Full name and a hissy voice? It was worse than
he'd imagined. “Where the hell have you been? It’s close to midnight.”
“At wo-“ The sound Kurt made could have easily come from an angry cat.
“Don’t you tell me about work, Cooper. Which part of It’s almost midnightdon’t
you understand? Have you taken to dancing in a strip bar after hours to
supplement your salary? Your younger brother has been waiting for you all day,
in case you forgot.”
Cooper was tired – the day had been long and demanding, only the first in a
whole hard week. He really didn’t need Kurt to unload his frustrations on him
tonight. He sighed heavily and raised his hands in a placating gesture,
annoyance slipping into his voice.
“Okay, okay, I’m taking him out of your hair right now. It’s not like you had
to be with him all day, you know – I told you to just drop him off at my
apartment, didn’t I?”
Apparently it was exactly the wrong thing to say, judging by the anger flashing
on Kurt’s face, intense enough for Cooper to retreat half a step. Kurt wasn’t a
big man, and never violent, but trying to ignore him when he was in a foul mood
would be like trying to ignore a charging rhino: very unwise.
“Cooper. In the last 36 hours this kid has been verbally abused by his
homophobic father and dumped by his boyfriend; he contacted his brother who
hadn’t talked to him for god knows how long to ask him for help; he flew to New
York only to spend the whole first day here with a virtual stranger. Don’t you
think he needs a break? Support from his own family, maybe? He’s seventeen,
Cooper. Remember when you were seventeen? Because I do. And I can’t imagine
going through something like this alone.”
Okay, ouch. This was poking right where it hurt. Cooper knew he was taking his
usual way out – all day he'd kept busy not to think about Blaine, to push it
away and deal with it later. It worked, just like not thinking about his family
problems always worked. It was an automatic reaction by now, but here was Kurt,
forcing him to face the situation. Trying to squirm away wouldn’t work, he
knew, but he tried anyway. He sat heavily on the end of the bed.
“I told you before, I have no parental instincts. I’d be the worst parent in
the world. I can give Blaine a place to stay and feed him, but-“
Kurt looked at him, exasperated. “It’s not like you have a choice, darling!
Your brother is here and he needs more than food and accommodation – he needs
you. So stop whining and behave like an adult, dammit. If it helps, I think the
worst parent prize was already claimed by your father." He paused and shook his
head. "I don’t get it, why are you so distant towards Blaine? He said it hadn’t
always been like this and I know for a fact that you are a caring guy. So what
happened?” 
Cooper sighed and dropped his aching head into his hands. He wasn’t proud of
what he was about to say. It felt like confessing to a crime.
“When Blaine came out three years ago, I was there. At home. My father threw a
massive fit, my mom looked thunderstruck, and Bee ran to his room crying. I
tried to talk to them, convince them that it was fine, make them accept him. It
ended with a fight between me and father, the worst ever. I left that night and
never came back.”
“You left Blaine there alone.” Kurt spoke quietly now, icily calm.
“Yes. I couldn’t look him in the eye after that. I didn’t know what to tell
him. So I said nothing.”
He could feel Kurt’s warm hand on his shoulder, offering comfort he didn't feel
he deserved.
“Coop. Now's your chance to change that, to be the hero he used to see in you.
Did you know that until today he's been half-convinced that you disapproved of
his sexuality too?”
Cooper’s throat tightened painfully, the emotions he always kept at bay rushing
out like an avalanche now.  “God. Where is he? I’ll take him home.”
Kurt shook his head, his voice softer now. “He’s asleep on the couch; let him
be. Just make sure to call him tomorrow morning, okay? And for once, leave work
when you’re supposed to and take Blaine home, spend some time with him.”
“I will, I promise." That would be hard, but it didn't matter. He'd make it
happen. "Thank you, Kurt.”
“It’s okay. You really have an exceptional brother, you know? You should be
proud of him.”
                                      ***
After Cooper had gone home, Kurt only managed to sew for two more hours before
his tired brain refused to cooperate any longer. He checked on Blaine, left a
note on the coffee table, telling him to feel free to shower and fix himself
breakfast; then he returned to the bedroom, stripped and dropped to bed,
falling asleep immediately.
He woke up just after noon, feeling well-rested. His brain needed time – and
coffee – to wake up fully, so Kurt pulled on a pair of boxers, stretched and
wandered out from the bedroom, trying to remember what day it was and if he had
any plans for today. A sharp gasp greeted him as he entered the living area.
Oh, right. Coop’s brother.
“Morning,” he mumbled, not pausing on his way to the kitchen. Once there, he
hummed with appreciation. Coffee had been freshly brewed and the divine smell
was wafting in the air, so Kurt quickly fixed a big cup of his morning café-au-
lait.
Halfway through the coffee, Kurt’s brain began to register things – like
Blaine’s wide-eyed expression. The boy was blushing, clearly trying not to
stare, but failing spectacularly. Kurt looked down at himself, noting his state
of undress, sleepy neurons lazily connecting things.
“Oh. Sorry, I should probably put something on. Just give me a moment.”
He went back to his coffee while Blaine muttered something that sounded like a
choked “It’s okay” and turned back to the laptop on his knees.
When the coffee finally kicked in, Kurt realized that he was standing in his
kitchen naked save for his underwear, mere ten feet from a seventeen-year-old
he’d only met yesterday, and not in intimate circumstances. Not that he’d ever
been in intimate circumstances with a seventeen-year-old, but that was not the
point. The point was – his brain, awake now, helpfully supplied – that just
last night he’d told Coop that he remembered being that age. He really did; and
while he was completely comfortable about his body now, back then he’d have
probably been mortified if an almost-naked man had sashayed into the room.
On the other hand – there was still coffee in his cup. He couldn’t bear the
thought of leaving it and going to shower and dress.
He glanced at Blaine again, catching the boy mid-stare and making him blush
pretty pink, and sighed.
“You’re probably not used to guys running around in their underwear first thing
in the… um, afternoon. Sorry, my brain is useless until I power it with coffee,
I forgot you were here. I hope I haven’t scarred you for life.”
Blaine chuckled softly, still blushing. “Don’t worry. You’re just… really good
looking. Like, model-level of good looking.” He blushed an even deeper pink.
Kurt laughed and ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. “Thank you,
although I seriously doubt that right at this moment. And thanks for making
coffee, by the way. It’s excellent.”
Blaine grinned like a praised child. “Cooper told me how strong you like it.”
Kurt raised his eyebrow. “Oh, so he called?”
“Yes." Judging by Blaine’s happy smile, it must have been a good call, too. "We
talked for a long while. He said he’d be here at 6:30 to take me to his place.”
Kurt glanced at the clock. They still had almost six hours to fill. Swallowing
the rest of his coffee, he made a quick decision.
“Okay, I don’t have to go to the theater today, so I’m free until seven. The
temperature outside seems bearable, too, so why don’t we go for an
introductory-level New York tour? I’ll show you how to move around here to be
safe and avoid getting completely lost.”
                                      ***
It was well after midnight and the apartment was settling into nocturnal
silence around Blaine. Through the wall, he could hear his brother’s soft
snoring. He was sitting on the mattress that would serve him as a bed for the
next nine weeks, his back against the wall and a thick, well-worn notebook in
his lap.
Cooper’s apartment turned out to be big, tastefully furnished and messy even
when freshly cleaned. The spare room that was turned into Blaine’s space for
the summer had been hastily emptied of all the stuff that had accumulated there
over the years. It was small but cozy and Blaine liked it immediately. Now,
with all his things placed in the dresser and on the shelves, it felt homey
already.
He fluffed the pillow supporting his back and looked through the last five
pages of writing. So much had happened today that he’d felt the need to write
down – meeting his brother for the first time in three years; the long, honest
conversation over dinner; Coop’s explanation and apology for leaving him like
he had.
And then there was the part that made Blaine blush – the part about Kurt.
He’d hesitated before writing about his reaction to seeing Kurt earlier today.
But he’d always been completely open in his journal – it was the only place
where he didn’t censor himself in any way. So after a short pause, Blaine
picked up his pen again and let the words flow.
The problem with this kind of writing was that while it helped to get things
out, sometimes it made the pictures and urges stronger, harder to resist. This
was one of those times.
After a long while of frantic writing, Blaine closed the notebook and put it
into a desk drawer. He didn’t try to hide it, not here – he was pretty sure
Cooper wouldn’t go through his things. The lamp switched off, he fought with
himself for a while longer – it really seemed inappropriate. Kurt was not only
ten years older than him; he was also Cooper’s best friend. But the temptation
was too strong, and it wasn’t like anyone would know anyway – so soon Blaine
was tugging at his pajama pants and making sure he had tissues at hand.
His mind was already replaying that glorious moment when Kurt had wandered out
of his bedroom, all perfect creamy skin and toned muscles, causing Blaine’s
brain to short-circuit immediately. His reaction had been so strong it must
have seemed weird, but Blaine couldn’t have helped it – just as he couldn’t
help how his cock jumped at the mere picture in his head now.
Blaine was a visual kind of person – pictures and the printed word influenced
him intensely. And ever since he’d started to think about sex, it had always
been the thought of seeing, not touching, that affected him the most. In the
time he’d been with Nathan, Blaine had gotten off countless times to the
fantasy of undressing his boyfriend, seeing his body at last; his cock – not
just feeling it through denim against his hip. It turned him on even more than
the prospect of being touched himself. And he’d been so close to being able to
finally see for the first time when his father had walked in on them.
So seeing Kurt today, messy-haired and sleepy, completely unselfconscious, had
sent Blaine into the state of almost painful arousal so quickly he'd felt
light-headed. Now, behind closed eyelids he saw the sun playing on Kurt’s back
as he fixed his coffee. He remembered the thick outline of his cock, morning
erection still straining against the black cotton of his boxers, and he had to
stifle the whimper that threatened to escape his lips. His hand picked up
speed, frantic movement over too-dry skin, as snapshots whirled in his head –
Kurt’s sea-colored eyes, sleepy and dazed; his hair looking like they might
after sex; his blissful expression when he drank his coffee. God, if that was
enough to make him look so erotic, what must he look like when he came?
And since in fantasies everything was allowed, he let himself imagine Kurt
falling apart under his – Blaine’s – hands, his lips; over him, buried deep in
him. It was the last thought that did it, seizing his muscles and painting his
stomach with strings of hot come as he bit his fist to stop himself from crying
out through the intensity of his release.
                                      ***
A block away, in his apartment, Kurt moaned with abandon as his hips stuttered
and he came into his date’s eager mouth.
***** Chapter 3 *****
To say that Kurt was grumpy would be an understatement of the month. He had
stayed up until six thirty last night (or this morning if someone wanted to be
anal), frustrated and restless after Mitch went home, and it had taken him a
while to fall asleep even then. He’d planned to sleep in, but then Seb called
at eleven damn a.m., and was cheeky enough to startle him wide awake, yelling
about an emergency, before laughing like it was the best joke ever and defining
emergency as a lunch date. And now it was noon, or close enough – he might have
gotten distracted trying to cover the dark circles under his eyes – and Kurt
was grumpy and bitchy, and entering their coffee bar with an intention to kick
his friend’s ass.
Of course, Sebastian knew him way too well to give him a chance. As soon as
Kurt got in and made a few steps towards their usual table, he was grabbed and
greeted with a wet, demanding kiss. But he knew Seb too, so he just lulled him
into the sense of security, returning the kiss for a few seconds, before biting
his lower lip, hard. His friend jumped away with an offended cry.
“Ow, bitch!”
Kurt shrugged. “Don’t put your mouth where it doesn't belong, hasn’t your
mother taught you that?”
Sebastian snorted, turning towards the bar already, but not before he landed a
sneaky slap on Kurt’s ass.
“Fair enough. Grande non-fat mocha with an extra espresso?”
“And an oatmeal muffin.”
“Mm, demanding.”
“Says the man who bullied me into getting up at the break of dawn and coming
here before breakfast.”
“Honey, your break of dawn is other hardworking people’s well-earned
lunchtime.” Seb passed the money to the barista and pushed Kurt towards their
table.
“Not my fault if they insist on keeping such a schedule.” Kurt settled into his
favorite armchair and only then he realized that they weren’t alone. Blaine was
sitting in the corner, nursing a small latte, and beside him, Cooper was
playing with a biscotti. Kurt raised an eyebrow.
“Wow, hi guys. Seb, how did you do this? Did you tie Coop up and bring him
here? I don’t believe he’s capable of leaving his office voluntarily during
work hours.”
Sebastian chuckled and passed Kurt his coffee, which he sipped immediately.
“Pretty much. There was kicking and screaming involved.”
Everyone laughed except for Cooper, who grumbled something about important
papers and timetables instead. Caffeine slowly spreading through his system at
last, Kurt nibbled on his muffin and asked.
“So what’s the occasion for this gathering at such an ungodly hour?”
Sebastian took care to move his chair a little further away from him before he
answered.
“Well, I was bored, slow day at work…” Grinning at Kurt’s and Cooper’s
surprisingly similar Glares of Death, he went on. “So I decided it was time to
meet Anderson Junior. Fine lad, if I may say so.” Blaine flashed a faint smile,
looking intimidated. “Plus, I needed to know everything about your date last
night! So tell me, is Mick the one and only?”
Even Cooper perked up now and looked at him intently. Kurt groaned.
“First of all, his name is Mitch, not Mick. Second of all, it was just a date,
guys, not an engagement. I don’t see why you are so excited about this.”
It was Cooper who answered this time.
“Kurt, it wasn’t just a date – it was a fourth date. You haven’t gone on more
than two with the same guy ever since the mess with James three years ago.”
Kurt frowned and crossed his arms.
“Two and a half.” Damn. It wasn’t supposed to sound defensive.
“Nevermind. The thing is, it’s been nothing but one-night stands for you for so
long that a fourth date? It’s huge.”
“Are you calling me a slut?”
He tried to zap Coop with the bitch face, but it must have been only partially
loaded, with too little caffeine in his system yet, because his friend didn’t
even blink. Sebastian cut in.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a slut. Deal with it, we love you anyway. So tell us, our
dearest friend, is it looooove?”
He sang the last words in that ridiculously cheery voice of his, and Kurt
glared at him before shrugging.
“Love’s a myth.”
Sebastian winced. “Uh-oh. No fifth date then? No serenading in Central Park,
lavish weddings and cute gay babies?”
“Nope.” He picked up his cup again. Coffee. The best friend of all.
“Damn.” Sebastian groaned, but Kurt saw Cooper grin and extend his hand, palm
up. Wait, what the fuck? Had they been...
Seb cursed, but took out his wallet and handed Coop a neatly folded hundred.
“Fine. You were right. But I still maintain that he’ll fall for a guy properly
by the end of the year, love and all.”
Yup. They'd been betting. On his love life. The bastards.
Cooper pocketed the money and chuckled. “And I’m still telling you that you’ll
owe me another one of these then.”
“Like you know anything about relationships. Being married to your job doesn’t
count, just so you know.” Sebastian smirked and stole the last bit of biscotti
from Cooper’s plate, earning a slap on the hand in the process.
“Oh yeah? You, on the other hand –“
Oh god, they were doing it again. They’d poke fun at each other, then argue,
and then Kurt would have to be a goddamn mediator for the next week. No fucking
way.
“Guys. Guys?” It was loud enough to get their attention. Finally. “I hate you
both.”
Sebastian slapped his forehead and moved his chair closer to Kurt. “You’re
right. We’re so sorry. You need comforting and we’re –“
“I don’t need comforting.”
Cooper leaned towards him over the table, too.
“Just tell us what you need. A guy’s night out? Drinking until you forget?”
“A friendly fuck?” Sebastian put on his serious, concerned face. Bastard.
“No, seriously, we’ll help any way we can.” Cooper reached to pat Kurt’s hand.
“What was wrong with Mick –“ Seb started.
“Mitch.”
“ – Mitch, anyway? Was the sex bad?” Now it was the counselor look, and Kurt
was really having enough of this conversation. He snapped.
“The sex was fine, thank you very much. It was the rest that wasn’t. It would
be nice to have a conversation sometimes, maybe. Some mutual interests? You can
only fuck a guy into the mattress so many times until you realize that.”
A choked sound came from the side and suddenly, they all remembered about
Blaine, who was sitting quietly in the corner, red-faced and very wide-eyed.
Kurt quickly replayed the highlights of their conversation in his head and
groaned.
“Oh fuck. I mean. Great. See? Now you two have terrified Blaine with your crazy
ways. I’m sorry, Blaine, we’re not always this –“
Sebastian raised his hand to silence him and looked at Blaine intently.
“ – Insane? Intense? Yeah, we are. But don’t try that at home. Remember, you
don’t want to be like Kurt when you grow up, young Jedi. There is a whole world
of beautiful gay love out there, don’t believe those that say otherwise. Kurt’s
just… compensating. James hurt him and – “
Kurt stood up quickly and grabbed the remaining half of his muffin. “Oh my god,
okay, enough. I’m going home and back to bed, and I don’t want to hear from
either of you until you start behaving like normal people. Or at least as close
as possible with you. Thanks for coffee. Bye.”
He would have slammed the door on his way out, but it was unslammable. Dammit.
Even doors hated him today. Fuming, he marched towards his apartment.
                                      ***
An hour later Blaine was back in his room in Cooper’s apartment, his head still
reeling from all that he saw and heard. He’d planned to go and explore the city
on his own after lunch, but right now there was no chance for him to focus on
anything outside of his own head, so he gave up and came home instead. Lying
down on the mattress, he let his thoughts go back to the events in the coffee
bar.
After Kurt had stormed out, there was a moment of uncomfortable silence at the
table. Both of the men looked like they were wondering if they’d gone too far,
but soon Sebastian shrugged and went on telling Blaine the story of how James,
Kurt’s ex-fiancé, had left him less than a month before the wedding, and how
Kurt had never been the same since. This was all Blaine heard before Cooper
interrupted to say that he needed to get back to work.
They walked together for a bit, and all along Coop was trying to convince
Blaine that Kurt was really a great guy, no matter how many different men he
wanted to date, while Blaine was wondering if he really seemed like such a kid
to them. Because how could all of them have read him so wrong?
On the other hand, maybe it was better they did. The truth might have been a
lot more awkward for everyone present.
They all seemed to believe that Blaine felt uncomfortable about their
conversation. Disturbed, even, or maybe disgusted. They couldn’t be further
from the truth if they tried. His feelings were of a different kind altogether.
There was jealousy, for sure. He knew he had absolutely no right to be jealous
about all the other men that got to kiss and touch Kurt, Sebastian included.
But right or wrong, the green-eyed monster was there, gnawing at his insides.
It was grinding its teeth hearing that Kurt had went on a date (and, most
likely, had sex) last night; it became more restless when they were talking
about one night stands, and once Kurt got to fucking a guy into the mattress…
Guhhhh. Blaine had almost choked on the picture his brain managed to produce
before losing all blood as it migrated south in a hurry.
There was astonishment among his feelings, too – a stunned kind of disbelief
that made him sit quietly in his corner, sip on his latte (an experiment, just
like Kurt had suggested, and delicious) and listen intently. Here he was, fresh
from Ohio where he’d been teased, bullied, taught that there was no place for
people like him there, told to keep his sexuality to himself, if only for his
own safety – and then there was that. Three adult men, including his own
straight brother, sitting in a public place, talking and bantering openly about
gay relationships, gay sex even. Without a shadow of fear, without looking
around to check if anyone disapproved, like it was something completely normal.
Because it was normal. This was how it was supposed to be – how it should be
everywhere. It wasn’t that New York was strange – it was the rest of the world
that was weird and wrong, all those places where two boys holding hands were
looked at with disgust and showered with hateful words, or worse.
And Blaine had known that there were such places as here – but it was theory, a
gay utopia of sorts. Now that he’d gotten to see it for himself, he knew
without a shadow of doubt that he wanted to live here too. That he would do
anything in his power to come back to New York after graduation, and that he
would stay here, where his sexuality didn’t determine who he was and what he
could do. He wanted to just be normal, to have normal relationships, normal
heartbreaks, normal sex, things that everyone else took for granted. To be able
to date openly, hold hands wherever he wanted, kiss in public, live with a
boyfriend, get married one day. He wanted it all so much it hurt.
It was not the only thing he wanted, though, and this could be a problem.
Because how wrong was it to desperately want to be held down and fucked into
the mattress by your older brother’s best friend?
 
“Have Kurt and Sebastian ever been… you know, an item?” Blaine asked Cooper
over a late dinner of take-out Chinese that evening. He hoped he wasn’t too
obvious, but ever since he saw them kiss earlier, the question wouldn’t leave
him alone.
Cooper just laughed. “God no. I know, they act like an old married couple
sometimes, but they’ve never actually dated. Or slept together, for that
matter. This is just their thing; the teasing, the groping – but I doubt they’d
ever actually follow through with it. Too much potential to screw things up, I
think, and they need each other. We all do.”
“It seems like you three are really good friends.”
Coop nodded, his face serious now.
“The best. I don’t know what I would do without them. Well, probably work even
more and be less sane.” He flashed Blaine a smile before going back to playing
with his chopsticks. “It’s funny, you know? We’re all completely different, and
yet we click somehow. We talk, we meet, we do silly stuff, and at the same time
we know that we can trust one another with our lives. There have been
situations where we all learned we can depend on one another.”
“Like what?” Blaine asked before he thought it might be too private. But Cooper
didn’t mind, apparently.
“Like when Kurt’s dad had his second heart attack. They decided to do a bypass
surgery that same night, and in his state it was pretty risky, but so was
waiting. Kurt had like eight hours to get there before the surgery, I think,
and it was right before Christmas, so he couldn’t get an earlier flight,
everything was booked. He called us, almost hysterical, and by the time
Sebastian got to Kurt’s apartment half an hour later, he had a small private
plane ready for Kurt and a cab waiting outside to take him to the airport."
Blaine’s jaw might have hit the floor before he noticed and gathered it back.
“Sebastian has a private plane?”
Cooper laughed. “No, not yet at least. But he’s from a really wealthy family
and works with people who have more money than they know what to do with. He
has his ways. He pretends not to care too much, but then he goes and uses his
money and connections to go above and beyond.”
“What about Kurt’s father? Was he okay?” Blaine had to ask – he remembered Kurt
telling him how important his family was to him.
Cooper nodded and put his carton on the table.
“Yeah, the surgery went great and he’s good as new now, thank god. I don’t know
how Kurt would have survived if he’d lost his dad then, right on top of James
leaving. That was a bad month for him. And Kurt will drop everything to take
care of those close to him, but when it comes to asking for help, he’s worse
than a mule. He shuts himself in his little world and it’s hard to get to him
and convince him to let you take care of him, for a change. He’s kind of like
you in that regard.”
Blaine said nothing. He’d learned long ago that dumping your problems on others
wouldn’t solve them, and often would make matters worse. That’s why the phone
call to Cooper was such a clear act of desperation – he just didn’t do such
things. Didn’t ask for help. He managed, alone. That’s why he knew he
understood Kurt – his heart clenched at the thought of how hard it must have
been for him, back then.
“Anyway,” Cooper yawned and stretched. “Any plans for tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I think I’ll walk around, do some touristy stuff, you know.”
“Okay. Just be careful. Oh, and before I forget again.” Cooper reached for his
wallet and took out a debit card. “The code is 0823, like your birthday. You
need to eat and buy stuff sometimes, right? Don’t go overboard, but you don’t
have to count every penny, either.”
Blaine took the card, surprised with the trust his brother put in him.
“Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it. And I’ll be late tomorrow, so maybe meet Kurt for dinner if
you want company?”
“But he said –“
Cooper laughed. “He meant Seb and me, not you, silly. Don’t worry about it,
it’s not the first time.”
***** Chapter 4 *****
It took Blaine a while to man up and call Kurt the next day, and the very vivid
erotic dream he’d had last night didn’t make it any easier, either. He just
hoped he’d be able to look at Kurt and not picture him in all sorts of indecent
ways. But by four, after walking around the monumental city since early
morning, he really needed to sit down, rest and eat something. It was either
dinner alone at some random place, or calling Kurt. And he’d had enough of
being alone today.
Kurt didn’t sound surprised or irritated when Blaine suggested eating dinner
together. He simply said, “Sure. Are you allergic to anything?”
“Not that I know of. Why?”
Kurt hummed to himself and there was a sound of cabinets opening and closing in
the background.
“Anything you don’t eat?”
No explanation then. That was fine.
“Um… snails? Liver? And I don’t really like black olives too much.”
Kurt hummed some more and now Blaine could hear him stirring something
vigorously. “Great! Come by within an hour and I’ll let you have your pick.”
The call was disconnected and Blaine looked at his phone, confused. His pick of
what? Well, whatever. He’d learn soon enough.
It turned out what Kurt meant was the best pizza Blaine had ever eaten –
homemade, with thin crust and plenty of fresh ingredients he got to choose for
his half even though he was five minutes late for Kurt’s deadline. As they were
sitting on the couch later, full and content, sipping virgin mojitos because it
was still hot, Blaine asked.
“Are you still mad at Cooper and Sebastian?”
Kurt laughed good-naturedly. “No, but don’t tell them, they deserve to suffer
some more. That was thoughtless of them; you didn’t need to hear all that.”
“I didn’t mind.” Surprisingly, Blaine managed not to blush at all.
Kurt shook his head. “I did. It made me look like a walking stereotype. I don’t
want you to think that’s how it is once you’re out of high school and in a
place where you can be yourself.”
“Kurt. I know. It’s okay.”
Blue-grey eyes looked at Blaine inquisitively for a moment before Kurt nodded.
“Okay then.”
Blaine decided to change the topic.
“I wanted to ask – would you mind if I came over sometimes and played the
piano? I haven’t been away from mine for longer than a week in years, and I
don’t want to get rusty.”
Kurt smiled and waved his hand towards the instrument.
“Sure, as long as you don’t play when I’m asleep – I don’t mind it when I work
or do other things. In fact, just get the keys from Coop and come whenever you
want. My work schedule is on the refrigerator, so you can look up when I’m
going to be out if you’d rather play then.”
Blaine had a little trouble believing his ears.
“Wait, you want me to just… come and go, even if you’re not here?”
Kurt shrugged. “Sure. Why, are you actually a teenage delinquent and just
hiding it well?"
Blaine blushed. "No, but –"
Kurt waved away his astonishment.
"I have no reason not to trust you. And I rather like you, so feel invited to
hang out whenever you like. Or... almost; I'll let you know when it's um...
better not to." He shook his head and quickly changed the topic. "Oh, by the
way – if you want to visit at the theater some time, that’s fine, too. Just
come over one day when I’m there, I’ll get you a visitor’s pass and introduce
you to the crew, so that you can come whenever you want. They won't mind.”
“Wow,” was the only thing Blaine managed to say. And then he caught himself and
added, “Thank you, Kurt. You’re amazing.”
This was going to be the best summer ever.
 
During the next week they fell into an easy routine of seeing each other every
day. It wasn’t planned – it just happened between Blaine dropping by to play
the piano, visiting the theater (Kurt took him to an elderly security guard and
got him a pass, introducing him as “a friend from Ohio who may be visiting a
lot this summer”) and going out together to see the less touristy sides of New
York. And oh, how Blaine loved his tour through Broadway! Kurt knew so much
about its history, so many anecdotes and trivia that by the end of the evening
Blaine’s head was spinning and he was more in love with theater than ever
before. He might be also a tiny bit infatuated with his personal tour guide, he
admitted to himself as they were walking back to Cooper’s apartment later that
night. Although, he corrected himself quickly, it was probably just the glass
of wine Kurt ordered for him at dinner.
All in all, Blaine felt better and happier than he had in a long time. He let
himself forget about the problems with his father and enjoy his time here until
he went back home at the end of August. Even the drama with Nathan, when put
into broader perspective of what life could offer him outside of Ohio, felt
like merely a dark dot on the film of his memory. He was in a wonderful city
with his brother, he had his music and an opportunity to see with his own eyes
how a Broadway show was made, and he was quickly becoming friends with a
gorgeous, fascinating man who understood him like nobody else.
Life was good.
 
 “Hey. Don’t mind me, I’m annoyed.”
Kurt welcomed Blaine one afternoon in the middle of his second week in New
York. He’d just arrived at Kurt’s apartment after spending the morning walking
around, listening to street musicians – they fascinated him, and some he’d met
today were really good.
He washed his hands under the kitchen tap and leaned against the counter. “Did
something happen?”
Kurt ground his teeth, then winced at the sound.
“Peterson happened, and his stupid episodic role in some idiotic TV series.”
Blaine nodded for him to keep going – he knew most of the actors by name by
now, and Peterson was the male lead. “He can’t do his fitting tomorrow
afternoon, so I have to get up at ten fucking a.m. and drag my ass to the
theater just for him. God, I hate alarm clocks. I’ll be a bitch tomorrow, just
so you know.”
“I think I’ll survive. Are we still on for dinner though?”
Kurt nodded. “Sure, just don’t say I didn't warn you if I snap at you or
something.”
Blaine left early that evening – he had plans for some early morning
sightseeing the next day. And if he found himself in a coffeehouse in Kurt’s
neighborhood at 9:50 in the morning – well, that was a complete coincidence.
But since he was so close, he could just as well buy a non-fat, double-espresso
mocha and a muffin for Kurt and drop by to make his morning a little better,
right?
Except when he entered Kurt’s apartment at 9:55, tiptoeing to the kitchen and
depositing the goodies on the counter, he realized that he had no idea what to
do now. His plan – a completely impromptu one, of course – had been to save
Kurt from the mean attack of the evil alarm clock, and wake him up with his
favorite hot beverage delivery instead. But he couldn’t just let himself into
the bedroom! And the smell of coffee wouldn’t get through the closed door – at
least not strongly enough to wake Kurt up.
But… something else would. It was only two minutes to ten when Blaine sat at
the piano and started playing a soft, sweet melody – quietly at first, then
gradually stronger, though never actually loud. He didn’t hear much from the
bedroom, but the alarm clock never went off and five minutes after ten Kurt
opened the door and smiled at him.
“I think I’ll forgive you for playing while I was sleeping. That was a nice way
to wake up, Blaine.”
                                      ***
Kurt hated alarm clocks with a passion. A device that jerked you awake without
any consideration for the fact that you were in the middle of a dream or in the
worst possible sleep phase was nothing but evil.
Beautiful music, on the other hand, that tangled in your dreams and gently led
you towards consciousness, was a very nice wake-up call. Kurt managed to turn
off his alarm clock just before it blared, and by the time he opened his
bedroom door, fully dressed, he was awake enough to determine that despite the
ungodly hour, he was only sleepy, not murderously annoyed. Nothing that a large
dose of caffeine couldn’t cure. Mm, maybe the handsome pianist in his living
room had thought to make coffee?
It turned out he’d done more than that. A strong, hot mocha – in a travel mug
to keep it hot, even! – and a fresh blueberry muffin were waiting for Kurt on
the kitchen counter, and wow, when was the last time any of the men he dated
had thought about that? Just a simple thing, breakfast and coffee, but it
showed how thoughtful Blaine was. And they hadn’t even had sex. Not to mention,
Blaine took care to pay attention and remember Kurt’s coffee order, which felt
strangely touching.
Damn, he’d make an amazing boyfriend. Attractive, with a fashion sense, well-
mannered, caring, thoughtful… And they talked for hours sometimes, never
running out of topics, and Kurt really enjoyed these conversations. Sure,
Blaine was younger, less knowledgeable about how the world worked, and a little
naïve, but he was enthusiastic and passionate, and intellectually, an equal
partner for Kurt, which didn’t happen all that often among the guys he met.
By the time he was halfway through his mocha, Kurt’s brain woke up properly and
put an end to his little fantasy, leaving him on the verge of a pity party
titled “I would so date him if he wasn’t ten years younger and my best friend’s
brother”. Sighing, Kurt finished his breakfast and pushed the thought out of
his mind, though Blaine’s smiling eyes over the piano keys made it quite a
challenge.
Two days later, Kurt was working late at the empty theater. Or rather, wasting
time waiting for an actor who got stalled by some cat trouble. He’d called,
rambling something about a vet appointment, delays and traffic, and Kurt was
sympathetic, he really was, but he had to sew this guy’s costume tonight,
before diving into the nightmare that was the period dresses. He was on a
schedule, and he could do nothing without pinning the parts properly on a
living breathing body.
A knock on his open door snapped him out of his annoyed thoughts.
“Hi! I was passing by and the guard outside told me you’re still here. I
thought I’d drop by to say hello.”
Blaine was standing in the doorway, looking… wow, definitely different. He was
in simple black yoga pants and a tight black tank top. A few dark tendrils of
his hair had escaped the careful styling and were curling adorably on his
forehead and temples. This was the least put together Kurt had ever seen him,
and he had to admit that he really enjoyed the view.
But his professional eye saw something else besides a hot boy, and the next
second Kurt was shuffling through his papers to check the measurements. If he
was right – and he had years of practice in judging these things, so he most
likely was – there might be a way to save his evening after all. He found the
right page and read through it quickly to refresh his memory. Yes! Blaine’s
posture and frame were very similar to Bell’s, the actor he was waiting for.
Kurt could do the fitting with a substitute, and then correct any slight
differences at a later time.
“How tall are you?”
Blaine seemed a little taken aback at the sudden question. “Um… Five nine?”
“No you’re not, stop that.” Kurt got up and stood by Blaine. “Five seven, maybe
a littlebit more. Excellent! Now strip.”
“Wh- what?”
Kurt turned from the pile of fabric pieces, cut and prepared for tailoring.
Blaine’s shocked face made him stop and rewind the last minute of conversation,
and he snorted quietly as he realized what it must have sounded like. Standard:
his brain was miles ahead of his mouth again.
“Sorry, no, it’s not what it sounds like.” He said, leaning against the edge of
his desk. “It’s just – would you mind modeling a costume for me? I need to fit
it and prepare for sewing, and the actor is disastrously late – at this rate I
won’t be home until ten at least, and I have a lot to do tonight. You’re built
very much like him, so if you could… It would help me a lot, and I just need
fifteen, maybe twenty minutes of your time.”
“And… stripping?”
“Oh, just to your underwear, obviously.”
Blaine glanced around quickly as if searching for an escape route. He looked
uncertain when he looked back at Kurt.
“Um, sure, just… I’ve just been to the gym and I’m all sweaty and disgusting.
There was a crowd there tonight so I thought I could shower at home and –“
Oh. So that was the problem, a little sweat?
“It’s okay, I don’t mind at all.”
“But –“
Blaine still looked like a deer in the highlights, and in normal circumstances
it would make Kurt back off. Tonight, however, he really wanted to go home and
get down to work already. He made his best pleading face, knowing full well he
was playing dirty. Well, it wasn’t like he planned to sexually assault the boy.
“Please?” He tilted his head a little for a better effect, but then grew
serious as a thought came to him. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with it, I
mean.“
Blaine shook his head and laughed shakily.
“No, it’s okay, if you really don’t mind me being gross... So what, should I
take it all off?”
Kurt beamed at him. “Great! Thank you, you're helping me so much. Just the top
first, okay? I’ll start with the shirt and vest.”
He turned away to pick the right pieces of fabric and when he looked back at
Blaine… No, he didn’t gasp, why would he? He’d been with a lot of attractive
men – he had standards, okay? So it wasn’t a gasp, just a little surprised
inhalation. Barely audible, really. Yes.
He just didn’t expect Blaine to look… well, like that. He was seventeen, for
gods’ sake (almost eighteen, his treacherous mind whispered). Seventeen-year-
old boys didn’t look like Greek gods – all olive skin and muscled arms, toned
chests with a scattering of dark hair, and tiny waists with a sharp V down
their sides leading the eyes dangerously lower.
They didn’t, right? At least, Kurt couldn’t remember that from his high school
locker rooms.
Blaine shifted under his eye (stare, Kurt, it was totally astare, you creepy
creep) and that finally spurred Kurt into action. He moved closer and started
fitting the pinned pieces of the shirt. He chatted as he worked; not only
trying to relax Blaine, who was clearly tense, but for his own benefit as well.
He needed to keep himself from thinking about all the tanned, salty skin just
begging to be licked, so close, radiating warmth and the heady combined smell
of man and hot summer and some sort of citrusy aftershave. Really, just
thinking about it was inappropriate.
“So you were at a gym? Which one?” He stood behind Blaine and straightened the
fabric on his back a little to make the seam even. Blaine shrugged, sliding it
out of symmetry again.
“The one that Cooper goes to. He said I could use his membership while I’m here
because he doesn’t have time for it now anyway. I box when I’m at Dalton, so I
thought it would be good to practice now and then while I’m here.”
Ngh.
Focus on not sticking him with a pin, you perv. Your kink for sweaty guys can
wait until later. At home. With a bottle of lube, or something.
“Um. Boxing, you say.”
Blaine hummed, sounding a little distracted. The muscles in his stomach
fluttered under Kurt’s fingertips as he smoothed the thin cotton to fit
properly.
“Uh, yeah. I took it up after being bullied so much at my old high school. I
didn’t want to be defenseless anym-oh-ore.”
The breathy little stutter was a result of Kurt sliding his hands down Blaine’s
sides to check the fit.
“Sorry, did I stick you?”
“No, no, I’m fine.”
"Okay then, let's do the sleeves now."
                                      ***
Blaine was having an increasingly hard time distracting himself from Kurt’s
proximity; his subtle scent that surrounded him like a warm, heady mist; his
hands – fleetingly touching, smoothing the fabric, always close in their cool
softness.
He survived the shirt fitting, and the vest was easier with a thicker barrier
of fabrics between their skin. Blaine distracted himself further by telling
Kurt about his newest musical discoveries on the streets. But then… Then it was
time to tailor the pants.
It wasn’t like Blaine had never stripped to his underwear in front of other
guys before – of course he had: locker rooms, swimming pools… he was a normal
boy, after all. It was just… he’d never undressed in front of a guy he kind of…
liked. And was extremely attracted to. And while he was by no means ashamed of
his body, right now he really felt gross, dried sweat making his skin sticky,
his hair probably a mess. Not a way to impress a man, really. He hoped he
didn’t smell.
Okay, here goes…
The next moment he stood before Kurt in nothing but his red boxer briefs, his
face hot with a blush. Thankfully, Kurt was all business, preparing the fabric
pieces, fastening them together around Blaine’s hips, then moving around to –
Oh-kay. Think unsexy thoughts now. Quick! What’s not sexy? Oh! Cooper’s attempt
at roast beef last night. Homeless bums on the subway. People cleaning up after
their dogs in Central Park. Good, very good, Anderson. Keep that up (or,
actually, down).
Kurt had just finished tailoring the pants in his ass region and moved to the
legs, which meant…
Holy shit. More unsexy, now. Vaginas. STDs. My parents having sex. Ew!
Fuck, really? Nothing’s working?
Of course nothing was working, because Kurt Hummel was currently kneeling
before him with his face right in front of Blaine’s crotch, and was pinning the
fabric on the side leg seam, occasionally ghosting his fingers over the
sensitive skin of Blaine’s inner thigh. Which was, well, simply too much for a
hormonal teenage boy to endure without any sort of reaction, okay?
Just, deep breathing. It would be over soon. Maybe Kurt didn’t even notice?
Yeah, no – a rapidly growing bulge at your eye level was usually hard to miss.
Fuck. Oops, no thinking about fucking. Or mattresses. Or, really, just.
Could the earth swallow him already?
It took several torturous minutes that felt as if they would never end before
Kurt stood up and nodded, apparently satisfied with the effects of his work.
Um, the tailoring effects, obviously, not the other effects. Kurt was gracious
enough not to mention Blaine’s problemat all.
He must have gotten a cramp, poor man, kneeling on the floor in his tight pants
like that, because he was moving slightly awkwardly when he got up and stepped
away to let Blaine get dressed. And if Kurt’s hands seemed to tremble a little
and his eyes were darker than usual, it must have been Blaine’s imagination.
There was no other explanation.
***** Chapter 5 *****
The second week of Blaine’s New York stay came to a close; it was almost the
end of June. The heat was still thick in the air, making everyone sweaty and
irritable. But Blaine felt anxious and fidgety in ways that had nothing to do
with the weather.
Ever since that evening with Kurt at the theater, it was very hard for him to
sit still. So he kept coming up with ways to keep himself busy.
On Monday, he focused on places with live music; coffee houses, restaurants,
karaoke bars. He’d order coffee or a coke and chat with people, amazed with how
many places in this city offered a chance to sing and play. On certain days,
you could just come and perform, no matter how much of an amateur you were.
Blaine promised himself to try it one day soon, and the mere prospect of
performing was exhilarating.
On Tuesday, he explored the subway. He traveled the whole length of some lines,
got off on random stops and tried to find something interesting everywhere:
unusual buildings, a pretty little park, a lovely view or three, a great music
store. It gave him all sorts of pictures and memories to bring home that
evening, and yet, as exhausted as he was, he still had trouble falling asleep.
On Wednesday, it was art – he made a list of exhibitions to see this summer,
and since they required way more than just a day of his time, he started with
the ones with the shortest run. The day was busy and full of things beautiful,
interesting and just plain weird, but as he was nearing Cooper’s apartment that
evening, he still felt like something was lacking. He even knew what it was.
Without much thought, he turned and walked towards Kurt’s place instead.
The piano. He missed playing after a five-day break.
The apartment was dark and quiet when he let himself in – no telltale sound of
a sewing machine or Kurt’s humming flowing through his studio door. It wasn’t
much of a surprise – Kurt had told him back on Saturday that he wouldn’t have
time to meet for several days at least. He was spending all of his time this
week creating some elaborate, multilayered dresses. He had two seamstresses to
help him, so he’d planned to work in his theater workroom during the day.
Blaine knew all about it, and he hadn’t really expected to see Kurt here.
Still, he felt a little disappointed. Okay, very disappointed. Which was silly.
He shook his head to move his thoughts in some other direction. It worked for a
bit, but after ten minutes of focus, he let himself flow on the waves of music
and his mind went to the one topic it had been bouncing back to constantly in
the last couple of days.
He missed Kurt.
And not just in that simple, easy way you miss a friend, like when he’s home
sick for a week and you have no one to exchange notes with in a boring class or
to go for coffee with. No. This was like an ache, persistent and impossible to
locate. Like a constant vibration in his brain, like he couldn’t relax because
something important was missing. It kept him awake and made him stop and turn
in the middle of the street more than once these past few days, because he
thought he’d seen Kurt’s gracious form, or the stormy blue of his eyes; thought
he’d heard his laugh.
It was exhausting. And so, sostupid.
Blaine ground his teeth and set to playing the difficult new piece from the
sheet music he'd left here last week. It was a good distraction and even if it
didn’t fill the hole that the longing left, it was enough for now.
So he had a crush on a guy he could never have – so what? He’d deal with it.
And then it was Thursday, and something happened, and Blaine was left confused
and terrified, his head reeling and his heart pounding with panic, and anxiety,
and maybe just a little hope. And as he was sitting in his room late that
night, shaking and lonely and going crazy with the hurricane of emotions, there
was only one person he knew who might understand and not judge him, and maybe
even help.
With trembling fingers, Blaine scrolled through his address book until he found
him.
Kurt Hummel
He wrote a short text, pressed Send and waited.
                                      ***
An incoming text startled Kurt around 2 a.m., when he was curled in an armchair
with the third glass of red wine in his hand, celebrating the fact that the
dreadful dresses were almost done. Curious, he reached for his phone – most
people he knew either slept at this time, or were well on their way to bed, at
least on workdays.
Well, apparently Blaine wasn’t like most people in more ways than Kurt had
already known.
Blaine Anderson: How busy are you tonight?
Kurt tapped out a reply.
Not critically so. Why?
The answer was immediate.
Blaine Anderson: I need to talk to someone.
Kurt frowned. Had it been anyone else, he’d only be mildly concerned. But in
this case, he was actually worried. Blaine hesitated to ask for help even when
he needed it. Mixed with the fact that he knew Kurt would most likely still be
buried in work, but texted anyway, meant that something had to be seriously
wrong. He hoped the boy wasn’t in trouble – god knew it was easy to find in
this city, especially after dark. Wait, was Blaine even at home, or at least
somewhere safe? He replied quickly.
Do you want to come over?
Blaine Anderson: I’m on my way.
Kurt had barely finished his wine, washed the glass and straightened the
kitchen a bit before there was a soft knock on the door. Blaine looked unharmed
when he nodded hello and came into the brightly lit living room, but Kurt knew
it didn’t necessarily mean he was fine. He looked closer, noticing the details
– the soft curls of his hair with barely a touch of product, the furrowed brow,
the slumped posture. Yes, Blaine Anderson was definitely one troubled boy
tonight. And if he came to Kurt, and not to Cooper, did it mean he got tangled
in something Kurt might better understand, or that he wouldn’t dare tell his
brother?
No. No assuming. Blaine would tell him if he wanted to, and in his own time.
Which didn’t look like anytime soon. That was fine – Kurt wasn’t going to pry;
he knew the difficulty of opening up to other people with your problems.
Instead of hovering, he left Blaine fidgeting with the plush throw on the back
of the sofa and went to the fridge.
“I have water, grapefruit juice, diet coke and wine. What can I get you?”
“Coke please.”
Even Blaine’s voice was quiet tonight, subdued. He looked like he didn’t know
what to do with himself, and Kurt got an idea. He took out the coke and a
bottle of sparkling water for himself, and gestured for Blaine to put his shoes
back on.
“Come on, I’ll show you something.”
Several flights of stairs and a ladder later, they were on the roof. Kurt
quietly closed the door behind him and smiled at Blaine, who stood there,
clearly enchanted with the view.
“I come here sometimes when I need to think, or just to get away from
everything and everyone.”
He set their beverages on the ground and leaned against the waist-high brick
wall that ran around the edge of the rooftop. The view always took his breath
away, no matter how long he’d lived in the city.
“It’s so beautiful.” There was awe in Blaine’s voice, a hushed sort of
astonishment as he stood beside him.
“It is.”
It was still hours until dawn, and even though the stars had faded against the
illumination of the city that never slept, the moon was still clear over
faraway skyscrapers, frail and thin in its crescent. It was peaceful, and after
a while, Kurt heard Blaine take a steadying breath.
“I was in Central Park since early morning today,” he started, still looking
away, at the vast city of lights spread before them. “I wanted to walk all
around, see as much as I could, and then settle somewhere and relax.”
Kurt nodded. He’d done that regularly his first year here, and many times
since. Blaine continued, still not looking at him.
“In the afternoon, I found a nice place to rest. There was a girl playing the
violin in an alley; she was really good. I dropped some money into her violin
case, and then sat on the grass under a tree, where I could still hear the
music. I read some, then started writing in my journal.”
Blaine glanced at Kurt, as if to check his reaction. Reassured by the lack of
judgment, he reached for the coke, popped it open and drank a little, stalling.
“The music must have stopped at some point, but I didn’t realize it until the
girl sat beside me. She seemed nice, so we started talking. Her name was Meg.
It turns out she’s a senior in high school too, and that she also wants to
study music next year, and since she lives here, she knows all about the best
programs. We had a lot to talk about – I mean, music alone, it felt really good
to chat with someone as passionate about it as I am. We must have talked for an
hour, maybe more, before she said she needed to go back to playing, and then
she…" Blaine paused and took a shuddering breath. "She kissed me. On the lips,
and not just a peck, either, Kurt. I was so surprised I didn’t even react when
she took my hand and wrote her number on my palm, said ‘Call me’ and left.”
“That’s one bold girl.” Kurt commented, if only to say something. It clearly
wasn’t all because Blaine was still struggling to get something out, but at
that point Kurt felt calmer. He could already guess what it would be – and he
wasn’t mistaken.
“But Kurt, it felt nice!” Blaine sounded desperate now, as if admitting to a
grave sin.
“Well, kissing’s supposed to feel nice, isn't it?”
Now that he knew what he was dealing with, Kurt relaxed. Blaine was safe, and
the situation, while undoubtedly confusing for him, was nothing Kurt – and
Sebastian, if needed – couldn’t help him get through.
“Well yes, but… Kurt. I always assumed I am gay, it was, well, kind of obvious,
but what if I’m actually bi? I’ve never even tried dating a girl, what if I’ve
built my whole life on a wrong assumption? What if I’m not who I thought I
was?”
Blaine’s voice was quivering now and he crossed his arms tightly, defensively.
Kurt thought of the real questions that Blaine never voiced.
What if I was bullied, beaten and hated for being someone I’m not?
What if I could have had my father’s love after all, if I’d only tried harder?
Kurt was pretty sure it wasn’t so, if only because Blaine was so shocked by the
possibility, proving that he’d never even thought of girls that way, but he
wasn’t one to assume – or judge, for that matter.
“Was she hot?” he asked, and Blaine’s dumbfounded expression would be answer
enough.
“What?”
“The girl, Meg – was she hot? You two talked for a while, you had time to look
at her.”
Blaine frowned, the effort of picturing her clearly visible on his face.
“Um. She had nice hair? Long and blond. And green eyes.”
“Were you attracted to her?” Kurt continued.
“No, but –“ he seemed lost for words.
“Close your eyes. Try to imagine an attractive girl – well, any girl – in a
sexual situation. Take your time.” Kurt prompted gently. He stood silently for
two or three minutes, until Blaine opened his eyes. “Now do the same with a boy
you consider hot.”
The wait was shorter now, but Blaine still looked worried afterwards. Kurt
asked, “Was there any difference in what you felt?”
Blaine nodded. “An obvious one, between nothing and a lot, but… I don’t
understand then. When she kissed me, it felt just like when Nathan did.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow. Blaine was looking at him intently now, as if asking
for an answer he could only really find by himself.
“You mean, it turned you on?”
Blaine blushed. “Well no, it was just a kiss after all. But just as nice.”
“Wait, you mean that your boyfriend’s kisses didn’t turn you on? What about
other guys?”
Blaine looked confused. “Not the kisses alone, no. I mean – why should they? It
was just kissing. And there were no other guys. Nathan was my first boyfriend.”
Later, Kurt would blame the wine; alcohol always gave him problems with impulse
control.
They were standing so close that it was all too easy to raise his hand and lay
it on Blaine’s cheek, rough with light stubble. The boy’s eyes, almost black in
the darkness, were wide and incredulous as Kurt took the half-step into his
personal space and whispered into his ear, close enough for his breath to
tickle.
“There’s no such thing as justkissing, Blaine.”
He didn’t push for it – as much as he suspected that Blaine was attracted to
him, Kurt was a gentleman. He would never force anything. He paused with his
lips barely a breath away from Blaine’s, and let him close the distance – or
move away, if he so chose.
Which he didn’t.
The soft fullness of Blaine’s lips was delicious, and Kurt relaxed into him,
feeling strong arms embrace him and pull him closer – those sinfully hot arms,
attached to a gorgeous, smart, fascinating man.
No. Only a kiss, Kurt, nothing more. Focus, you’re trying to prove a point
here.
He took the lead with ease. The kiss wasn’t dirty or overtly sexual, but it
wasn’t chaste either. For a moment Kurt moved his lips slowly, languorously
against Blaine's before he ghosted the tip of his tongue against the bow of
Blaine's upper lip – and felt his hands flex against his back as he was granted
entry immediately. The sweet heat of Blaine’s mouth tasted like cinnamon, and
Kurt took a long while to dance his tongue against Blaine’s and slide it across
his palate, causing his breath to quicken and stutter. He sucked on Blaine's
lower lip and was rewarded with a small, helpless moan as Blaine's hips bucked.
Kurt smiled and slowly retreated, with one last soft, lingering kiss.
Blaine looked like the very definition of well-kissed when they parted. He was
breathing heavily, his cheeks blushed dark enough to show in the low light and
his lips already slightly puffy. He was still clutching at the back of Kurt’s
shirt. He looked so tempting that Kurt could barely stop himself from diving
back into another kiss. But he wasn’t tipsy enough to throw all reason to the
wind. Sadly.
He grinned instead, and Blaine’s hands relaxed on his back, reluctantly
releasing their hold.
“That was what a proper kiss should feel like, I’d say. And for the record –
I’m not saying that you are surely not bisexual, or that there would be
anything wrong if you were, because –“
“I’m gay. One hundred percent gay.” Blaine sounded shell-shocked, but relieved.
“Are you –“
“Oh, I’m sure. About as sure as I am about the fact that there was barely any
chemistry between Nathan and me, apparently. Oh god. Kurt… would you mind if I
went now? I think I need to process it all. I… just…”
He looked about ready to burst with emotional overload, and Kurt nodded.
“Sure. Come on, we’ll go together.”
They didn’t talk as they descended the stairs, but Blaine stopped by the door
to Kurt’s apartment and touched his shoulder with a shy, gentle hand.
“Kurt… Thank you. You really helped me with this. Can we meet for dinner
tomorrow or are you still busy? I was going to cook, so maybe even Cooper will
be home on time.”
A wide grin spread on Kurt’s face. He missed their shared moments these past
days.
“Absolutely. Just let me know what time and I’ll be there.”
 
Cooper wasn't home yet when Kurt arrived near eight the next evening.
"He said he should just be an hour more," Blaine said after he opened the door
to let Kurt in. "Well, his loss. I'm making stuffed peppers, they should be
ready in ten minutes."
A delicious aroma was already permeating the air as Kurt settled at the kitchen
table, nursing a tall glass of ice-cold water. He watched Blaine dance around
the kitchen, humming as he finished the preparations with an ease of someone
used to cooking. Another surprise, and Kurt honestly wondered how many more the
boy had up his sleeve.
"Looks like you're good at kitchen management," he smiled at him when Blaine
leaned against the counter opposite, taking a sip of his orange juice.
"I've learned over the years. My parents aren't really the cooking type – they
mostly either eat out or order in, and usually just leave me money to do the
same. And there's only so many times you can eat pizza or Chinese from the same
places before you feel sick just thinking about them. So I taught myself to
cook what I like. It's nice, being able to take care of yourself."
Kurt's first reaction was to say that teenagers shouldn't have to take care of
themselves in such basic ways as homemade food, but thought better of it. Try
as he might, he couldn't fix the world. Not everyone was blessed with a family
like his.
Instead, he just looked at Blaine, trying to assess his mood after last night's
events, and was relieved to see him rested and relaxed, no visible evidence of
a hard night. Well, good. Maybe a bit surprising, but good nonetheless. It was
enough that he hadn't been able to sleep well after their... conversation on
the roof. Even now, he was feeling guilty every time he glanced at Blaine.
No, not because they'd kissed – it wasn't like he'd forced anything, and a kiss
was simply a kiss. You could kiss a stranger in a club, or your best friend,
and it didn't necessarily mean anything.
It wasn't even because – after tossing and turning for the longest time,
plagued by the images of Blaine's lips and thoughts of how good they'd feel,
and how perfect they'd look around Kurt's cock – he'd finally given in and
brought himself to a quick, messy orgasm fantasizing about a boy he shouldn't
think of this way; a thing he'd resisted doing even after the fitting in the
theater last Saturday.
No, the problem was that the urge, the fascination hadn't gone away like it was
supposed to have after giving in – that the moment Blaine opened the door
tonight, Kurt wanted to pull him into another kiss, and then rid him of those
indecently well-fitting clothes, lay him over Coop's kitchen table and show him
how much more Kurt could give him.
The problem was that with every word from Blaine's mouth Kurt remembered that
little moan and ached to hear it again, hear it louder, hear Blaine fall apart
under his fingers and lips.
The problemwas that Kurt had been hard from the moment he'd entered the
apartment and when Blaine bent a moment later to take the food out of the oven,
Kurt had to bite his lip so that he wouldn't moan himself, positively desperate
to run his fingers down that perfect round ass. To sneak them under those dark
jeans and deeper, deep, to unravel this boy completely like no one ever had.
God, who knew Kurt had a thing for virgins? Because that had to be it, right?
The forbidden fruit, the desire to show Blaine the pleasures of everything Kurt
knew...
Man, he needed to get laid.
 
"I meant to ask you something about last night," Blaine started as they sat to
eat a moment later, and Kurt tensed. He hoped Blaine wouldn't ask what it meant
for Kurt, because right now, he wasn't sure himself. "Did you mean what you
said?"
Oh. Then it wasn't about the kiss.
"Yes. Which part?" He answered without hesitation and Blaine made a funny face.
"What? I didmean everything I said, but if you want me to elaborate on anything
in particular, I need to know which part you're asking about."
Blaine nodded and ate a bit of his pepper before answering.
"You said that even if I am bi, there's nothing wrong with it."
"Of course there isn't. What would it change?" Kurt noticed the nonchalantly
used grammar trap and ran with it. Good one. "I mean, it could change quite a
bit for you, obviously, and take some getting used to, but other than that? We
are what we are – gay, straight, bi, pan, trans, ace or anything in between –
and it's okay."
"Plenty of people would disagree." Blaine was playing with a grain of rice,
moving it all around his plate.
"I know." Kurt said softly. "But the thing is, you don't have to fit into other
people's expectations, or even declare and name what you are for their sake.
It's what you believe that matters. The only acceptance you truly need is your
own."
"It gets lonely when you're not accepted by most though." Blaine still wasn't
looking at him.
"I know." Oh, did he know. "Sometimes it takes a while to find people who
accept and love us the way we are, and I don't just mean the sexuality part –
all of us. But in the end, it's worth every minute of waiting."
"I think I'm starting to learn that."
Blaine looked up at last, his eyes bright and earnest. He was clearly trying to
sound nonchalant, and failing. Kurt felt something in his throat catch at the
vulnerability of his open, trusting face. He reached and laid his hand on
Blaine's.
"I'm glad to hear that."
***** Chapter 6 *****
Fireworks were blooming on the dark sky over Central Park, and something in
Blaine's chest seemed to be blooming too, rising and opening, and growing deep
into his heart. He'd never felt anything quite like it before. It was brand
new, and a little scary in its intensity, but exhilarating all the same.
All around, there were people – in groups and couples, standing or sitting on
blankets scattered all over the grass, as far as he could see. Blaine felt
something warm and hopeful when he observed how many of them were same-sex
couples, often with children, and how safe and unrestricted they seemed to feel
here – out in the open, in a crowd of people, celebrating independence
together.
But mostly, he looked at Kurt; his dark, elegant silhouette just a few feet
beside him, illuminated by the red-green-blue-silver of the fireworks, talking
with his friends, laughing. And secretly, he wished they were alone in the
crowd here, without Cooper or Sebastian for company. He wished he could take
Kurt's hand, or kiss his soft, warm lips, feel that thrill and that closeness
again.
That night on the roof, it had felt like everything was falling in its place
under Kurt's touch, and Blaine had never felt anything so right before. It was
like he'd found where he belonged. That one kiss had left him tingling and
wanting, gasping for breath, but at the same time he felt calm and certain, and
safe. It was as if he had Kurt under his skin now, a feeling that still hadn't
truly faded, but sparked with intensity whenever Kurt was near, and Blaine was
pretty sure what it meant.
For the first time in his life, he was in love.
                                      ***
Sebastian nudged Kurt with a sharp elbow to the ribs, causing him to tear his
eyes from the bursts of sparks overhead and glare.
"I swear, if I have a bruise –"
"Then I'll kiss it all better. Although, there may be another volunteer." Seb
whispered with a smirk and jerked his head to the side, where Blaine had been
sitting quietly all evening. Kurt looked at him just in time to catch the boy's
eye, and smiled before turning back to Sebastian.
"You're delusional."
"Sure I am. He's been eyefucking you since we got here. Looks like Coop's baby
brother has it bad for you, babe. Aww, how adorable. And he's such a pretty
little bird, too!"
Kurt felt heat spread over his face. With any luck, the darkness and random
flashes of the fireworks would hide the evidence of what his own traitorous
mind had been doing lately. He still needed to get laid, dammit, but somehow he
couldn't find it in him to go to a club and look for a hook-up.
"Maybe you should go get your eyes checked," he muttered with more conviction
than he felt.
Sebastian just chuckled. The bastard.
"Yeah, right. I know what I see. And don't tell me it doesn't sound tempting –
I bet he'd look gorgeous tied to your bed in nothing but that bowtie, all eager
and ready for you to ride him. Mmm, that's a nice picture –"
The sharp smack up Sebastian's head might have been a bit of an exaggeration,
but it drew everyone's attention away from the groan that threatened to rip
from Kurt's throat. He really didn't need any more visuals. His mind had been
providing him with more than enough lately.
And his body approved – so, so much.
                                      ***
Love was turning out to be much more complicated than Blaine thought.
For starters – what should he do with his newly discovered feelings? Should he
keep them secret and remain Kurt's friend, silently hoping for more, soaking in
every bit of closeness, every hint of affection, like he had so far?
Or should he risk rejection, maybe ridicule, and tell Kurt? Was there even a
small chance that Kurt returned his feelings? It was hard to imagine, but... He
didkiss him, didn't he?
In the end, it was the fact that they had always talked honestly that helped
him make the decision.
Now there was only the problem of how and when. He considered asking Kurt out,
maybe taking him for a romantic walk or playing a perfectly chosen song for
him, but in the end... Well, he was a blurter, okay? He blurted things out.
"God, I'm so in love with you."
Kurt looked at him shocked, incredulous, over the big bunch of jasmine he'd
just bought from a street vendor and had been smelling, yellow pollen all over
his nose.
"What did you say?"
"I... I'm in love with you?"
Kurt's stricken expression felt like a punch. He was trying to say something,
his lips working over words that didn't come, and Blaine hated that he was
already feeling the sting in his eyes. No, he wouldn't cry. He'd known it would
probably end like this, and now he'd take it like a man.
Kurt touched his shoulder with a hesitant hand.
"Blaine, I – Come on, let's get back to my place, and we'll talk over coffee."
So Kurt wanted to spare him the humiliation of being rejected in public at
least. That was nice of him. Blaine nodded and followed Kurt the two blocks
home, steeling himself for the conversation.
 
They didn't even get to the coffee, just sat at the kitchen table, the jasmine
forgotten on the counter, before Kurt took a deep breath and spoke carefully.
"Blaine... You have a crushon me. You just met me three weeks ago, you're fresh
out of your first relationship, it's only natural to look at other guys for a
rebound. But it's not love – it's just attraction, infatuation maybe. You know
that, right?"
This was probably the worst thing Kurt could have said, no matter how gentle
his face was, how kind his tone. How could he know? He was treating Blaine like
a child who didn't know his own feelings, and it felt awful. It made him angry.
"It's not –"
"Blaine." The steel determination on Kurt's face didn't reach all the way to
his eyes, but Blaine couldn't think about that now. "You are an amazing young
man. You're handsome, smart and sweet. You're talented, you make me laugh, and
I really care about you. But you're also seventeen; I'm twenty-eight. And your
older brother is my best friend. Can you imagine what he'd say if he even knew
about that kiss on the roof, let alone if we dated? He wants to protect you
from the dangers of the city, all the experienced guys who could seduce and
demoralize you, and that includes me."
"Maybe I want to be demoralized." Blaine said stubbornly, crossing his arms,
then uncrossing them again. There was no need to behave like a child.
Kurt smiled fleetingly. "I bet you do. But we can't –"
"Would you date me if I was a little older, and not Coop's brother?" He was
blurting things out again, but it didn't matter. He needed to know.
Kurt didn't even hesitate. "Yes."
Okay, so it wasn't because of his inadequacy then. Still, it hurt, and he
hatedthat the circumstances made him utterly undateable to Kurt. He got up from
the chair and nodded stiffly.
"I'd better go then." Not waiting for an answer, he moved towards the door, but
stopped before he reached it. "Can we still be friends?"
Kurt's face was soft and sad when he looked at him. "Of course we can. I'm
sorry, Blaine."
"Me too."
                                      ***
The door clicked shut and Kurt slumped in his chair. The distraught look on
Blaine's face broke his heart and he hated the fact that he'd been the one to
put it there. He’d never wanted to hurt the boy, ever, the tender affection he
felt towards him meant his instinct was to protect Blaine from any harm.  Which
was exactly why he needed to do this in the first place.
Love.
It wasn't love, it couldn't be – not so fast, not for him of all people; he
didn't deserve that. Blaine simply had a crush, that was all; he mistook
attraction, desire maybe, for something deeper. But because he believed he was
in love, it could hurt him so much more, and Kurt wouldn't allow it. Not to
mention, he couldn't be anything more than a friend to Blaine anyway, just as
he'd told him. It wouldn't be right to follow up on his fantasies, no matter
how much he liked Blaine, how much chemistry sparked between them. Especially
now, when he knew there were feelings at play here. Blaine deserved much better
than Kurt could give him.
Plus, he couldn't be the one to teach Coop's innocent kid brother all about
sex. He wasn't suicidal, after all. Cooper may seem harmless, but it was a
cover; when crossed, he was a force to be feared. God, if he could read Kurt's
thoughts sometimes...
So, saying no to Blaine's confession, despite the way his heart had fluttered
at hearing it, was the right thing to do. The only thing he could do. Now he
could just hope Blaine would get over it easily, and they'd be able to stay
friends.
It seemed to work that way, too. A few days later Blaine dropped by with a
smile and an announcement that he wanted to ask Kurt for advice. Which he was
perfectly fine with giving, of course.
Until he heard the request.
 
"You want to do what?"
"I want to go to a gay bar." Blaine looked annoyingly content with himself, as
if he hadn't just come up with the most stupid idea Kurt had heard in months.
He took a piece of paper out of his bag. "I did my research, and I have a list
of those that don't check IDs too diligently, and I was hoping you could tell
me which one would be best."
"No." Huh. Kurt didn't know he even had a parent voice in him, but he sounded
surprisingly like his own dad now.
"No, as in you don't know? You haven't even looked at my list yet."
"No, as in you're not going to a gay bar." Even to his own ears it sounded
wrong. Blaine must have thought so too, because he crossed his arms and looked
at Kurt defiantly.
"Kurt, you're not my father, you can't forbid me. And I hoped that, as my
friend, you could give me a hint here – I mean, you must have been in some of
these places, right? But if you can't do that, that's fine. I'll read some more
on the internet."
Kurt ground his teeth and tried to reign in the vehement protest that kept
bubbling in his chest at the mere thought of Blainein a gay bar. This was not
the way to convince him. He spoke more calmly now, placating.
"You're right, I'm not your father and I have no right to tell you what to do.
But as your friend who cares about you, I'm telling you that this is a very bad
idea. Yes, I've been in gay bars before, and yes, they can be fun places. But
you going there, alone? It would be like sending a fluffy white sheep to dance
with the wolves."
Blaine just raised an eyebrow. "If you mean that I'm too young –"
"Of course you’re too young, why do you think there are age limits there? And
not checking IDs is an instant disqualification; it's like an invitation for
all kinds of perverts. But it's not just that – don't take it the wrong way,
but you practically radiate innocent and vulnerable, and with how gorgeous you
are? That's the worst combination possible, Blaine. For a gay bar, at least."
Kurt noticed he was raising his voice again and lowered it back to a normal
level. "The men would be all over you in an instant, and not everyone goes
there just to dance, you know."
"Have you thought it may be what I want? To have some fun? Maybe you're right,
maybe it is a rebound thing. But so what? Maybe I need to get it out of my
system. You're not interested, so I want to look somewhere else."
Fuck. This was so not what Kurt hoped would happen; he meant to protect Blaine,
not send him over to strangers who would have no problem with him being
seventeen. He felt panic slowly crawl through his insides as Blaine continued
angrily.
"Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to want nothing more than to
finally look at your boyfriend, to undress him, touch him... and then have
someone come in on you before you ever get to do it? The only thing we managed
to do was get off together a few times, grinding against each other in a hurry,
with my mom downstairs and the door open. And I'm sick of waiting and being
good, and I live in Westerville, Kurt. I don't have much to hope for in ways of
a relationship there. I'm looking at another year of being lonely, horny, and
having only my right hand for company. So forgive me if I want to use the time
I have here to get some more."
Wow. That was intense. And hot, but that was not the point.
"But why like this? In a dirty stall or a dark alley behind the bar? Or in some
stranger's room, someone you've never seen before and most likely never will
again? Is that what you want for your first time? Not to mention how risky it
is. You deserve so much better, Blaine. You deserve someone who will listen to
you and take care of you, and give you what you want. You deserve gentle and
beautiful, and memorable. You should have loving touches in the right
circumstances, not a hurried fuck with a stranger in a gay bar."
Suddenly, there were angry tears in Blaine's eyes and his voice was rough,
breaking over a sob. "Well I can't have that, can I? I'm too young, and I'm an
Anderson. So yeah. Whatever."
The door slammed shut, leaving Kurt alone in a stunned silence.
                                      ***    
Blaine left Kurt's building with anger boiling hot in his chest, choking him
with suppressed sobs. It wasn’t fair! Kurt could sleep with anyone he wanted,
could go to any gay bar or club, or wherever, and pick up men to have glorious,
unrestrained sex. He could kiss his best friend in a coffee bar and not mean
anything by it. He could friend-zone Blaine and dismiss his feelings, and still
sleep well and be fine, and move on like nothing happened. And yet, he dared to
censor Blaine'ssex life, even though he wanted to have nothing to do with it.
It wasn't fair.
By the time he got to his room, the first tendrils of reason were already
worming their way back to his brain, but Blaine stomped them out furiously. No!
Maybe he was acting out and behaving immaturely, but so what, he was seventeen,
after all, he may as well act like it, since being mature for his age evidently
didn't mean anything. Tomorrow was Friday, and he would tell Cooper he was
going to the movie marathon that he saw advertised yesterday, and that he would
come home late. And instead, he'd go to a gay bar of his choosing, dance, have
fun and relax, and maybe – just maybe – go a little wild. Not all the way – of
course not, he didn't want to go so far with a stranger. In fact –
No. He wasn't a prepubescent girl, dreaming of romantic love and a prince who
would be the one, the only one to touch and kiss and love him. It was old-
fashioned and frankly strange nowadays not to take a chance for casual sex when
there was one – or so it seemed, looking all around. So, why not? He'd be
careful and smart, and everything would be fine. Better than fine. Definitely.
Kurt called twice in the evening , but Blaine refused to pick up, still stuck
in his stubborn anger. He wondered briefly if Kurt would call Cooper instead
and tell him of Blaine's plans. But Cooper's phone remained silent on the shelf
where it was charging and around midnight, Blaine got a text instead.
Kurt Hummel: I'm sorry. Just... be safe. Please.
He answered with a short I willand went to bed. Tomorrow was going to be an
important day.
***** Chapter 7 *****
The club didn't look like Blaine had imagined it would after reading the
superlatives about  hot strippers and  excellent atmosphere , and how it was
the classiest of the "easily accessible" ones . For one, the area looked shady,
to put it mildly; the street was narrow, dark and littered, and the buildings
on both sides in rather desperate need of repair. The bar itself, called
Rainbow Unicorn  of all things, had a recent coat of paint on the front, but it
didn't improve the first impression much. There was loud, pounding music
pouring out the open door, and a meaty, middle-aged man with a hung-over look,
who didn't even pretend to check the people coming in. He was leaning against
the wall with a bored expression, like he was there just for show. Which he
probably was.
It was just after ten thirty when Blaine arrived, since he didn't want to come
too early. The volatile mixture of excitement and nerves that had been making
him giddy and jumpy all day was currently turning into a heavy weight of
anxiety. Suddenly, he had doubts – nothing so bad it would change his mind, but
enough to exhale with relief when he saw a small coffee shop on the other side
of the street from the bar. He'd just drink some coffee, maybe eat a sandwich
or something since he'd been unable to swallow a bite of his dinner tonight,
and then man up and go into the Unicorn.
The little old lady who brought his latte (though it looked – and tasted –
suspiciously like bad drip coffee with plenty of milk) to the table by the
window asked in a conspiratorially lowered voice, “Do you want condoms, too?"
"Excuse me?" Blaine felt himself getting beet red; the waitress could have been
his grandma.
"Condoms. We sell them. It's quite a business since they always seem to have
their vending machine broken or empty." She jerked her head towards the
building opposite. "Plenty of young people come to buy them here. Do you want
some?"
"Um, no, thanks. I'm good." He didn't need condoms, he wasn't going to–
Ugh, maybe it was a bad idea.
The waitress shook her head sadly and left him alone, and Blaine settled for
watching the bar on the other side of the street and sipping his coffee.
Within the next hour, as his brain was gradually taking over, he'd seen enough
to dismiss the idea of going in entirely. There were kids clearly no more than
fourteen going in without the bouncer batting an eyelash. There was a small
alley next to the bar where every now and then giggling, half-undressed couples
disappeared, only to return moments later. There were at least half a dozen
people dropping by the coffee shop to buy condoms, some of them clearly
regulars. It was every possible cliché about sad, seedy gay bars possible – and
the night was still young; Blaine didn't even want to think what it would be
like later.
At midnight, he got out of the coffee shop and called for a cab. He owed
someone an apology.
   
            
Blaine let himself into Kurt's building, but once he reached the apartment
door, he found himself stalling. He wanted to apologize, to tell Kurt that he'd
been right, but he kept running out of words – everything sounded stupid and
not enough after his yesterday's tantrum. Maybe he should just go home instead
and try tomorrow? It was late, anyway, and –
Recognizing his hesitation for what it was, Blaine took a deep breath and just
knocked. Ready or not, he wouldn't chicken out like a scared kid.
The door swung open seconds later, revealing Kurt – pink-cheeked, messy-haired,
with slightly dazed eyes and two top buttons of his shirt open, flashing an
expanse of fair skin. For a short, terror-filled moment Blaine wondered if he
interrupted something; Kurt looked so sexy, loose and relaxed in ways which
Blaine wasn't used to. But the surprise on Kurt's face was a happy one, at
least until fear clouded the blue of his irises and furrowed his forehead.
"Blaine! Are you alright?"
Oh. Blaine nodded quickly, all the rehearsed words of his apology forgotten.
Kurt was worried about him? 
"I'm fine, everything's fine. I know it's late, I just wanted to apologize for
behaving like a brat yesterday. I'm sorry, Kurt, I –"
He didn't finish as a strong hand took his and pulled him into the apartment,
right into Kurt's embrace. He heard the door shut behind him, but didn't pay it
much attention because all of his senses were suddenly filled with Kurt: his
scent, the heady mixture of products and something so very him; the softness of
his skin against Blaine's cheek and the strength of Kurt's arms around him; the
steady, strong heartbeat he could hear so clearly as he pressed his face into
the crook of Kurt's neck.
For a long while they just stood like this, until Blaine felt his tense muscles
relax, the anxiety flow out of his body easily, all at once. The realization
that it had been years since he'd been truly hugged by anyone shocked him –
it'd been so long that he'd forgotten how much of a comfort it was, how perfect
it felt. It wasn't even because it was Kurt – it was the simple, basic act of
being hugged, held close by someone who cared about you, without any erotic
context. He let out a shaky breath and Kurt's arms tightened around him for a
brief second before releasing him.
Kurt looked at him curiously, still so close that Blaine could kiss him just by
leaning slightly forward. He resisted the temptation.
"You don't smell like a bar. Cooper said you planned to be out until late
tonight, I thought –"
Blaine tried to look away but couldn't, lost in the stormy-blue trap of Kurt's
eyes.
"I didn't go. I mean, I did, but I didn't even go in." He shifted awkwardly.
"You were right, Kurt. That’s not what I want. Not like that."
However he'd expected Kurt to react ("I told you so"? "Good to know, now go, I
have more interesting things to do"?), the soft heat of his lips had never been
part of it. Yet here it was, a kiss like the one that made Blaine a helpless
addict after the first taste last week, and he took it without question, diving
into the sweetness and the passion that was Kurt unrestrained, until his mind
finally caught up to his senses and he broke the kiss, a little breathless
already.
"Kurt. Kurt, wait. Are you drunk?" He hated to deliberately give up this
closeness, but Kurt tasted like orange juice and liquor, and Blaine wouldn't
use his moment of weakness if it was something he would regret later.
Kurt sighed and moved away to the kitchen, where he took a half-empty glass of
orange liquid from the counter and emptied it at the sink.
"A bit. I was worried." He turned back to Blaine, his face soft. "And when I'm
worried, my imagination takes over and – I just needed to distract myself. I
don't want you to get hurt, Blaine."
Blaine couldn't tear his eyes away from that bit of skin peeking from Kurt's
open collar, from his lips, kiss-red and lush. Arousal was spreading through
him in a buzzing wave and he tried to reign it in, but it wasn't easy, with a
view like that right before his eyes.
"I'm fine, don't worry – and I'm not going there again, I promise." He answered
distractedly.
"I don't just mean that, though." Kurt took the few steps, closing the distance
between them again. He lay his hand over Blaine's heart, making him draw a
shuddering breath. "I don't want to hurt you. But... I like you way more than I
should, and I want you so much that it's indecent, and I shouldn't tell you
this, but clearly my filter is off tonight. And it would be much safer if you
went home now."
He was whispering just millimeters from Blaine's lips, his every breath raising
tiny hairs on Blaine's neck with delicious shivers, and oh, was he saying what
Blaine thought he was saying?
"You should go home and come back tomorrow when I'm sober and in control again,
responsible enough to resist you because that's what I'm supposed to do here."
Blaine felt light-headed, his blood thrumming with desire. "What if I don't
want to go?"
Kurt was breathing fast and shallow. His hand tightened into the fabric of the
henley on Blaine's chest, the other slid up the side of Blaine's neck to tangle
into the loose hair on the nape of his head, making him moan quietly in the
back of his throat.
"What if I hurt you?" Kurt's eyes were wide and dark, searching.
Blaine took a deep breath. "I'll take that risk."
His arms closed around Kurt's waist, pulling him into another kiss.
                                      ***
Kurt was drunk, that was true. But it wasn't the level of drunk where his brain
was incapable of making decisions and his body took over, feverish and
carefree. It wasn't the kind where he woke up in the morning hung-over in a
stranger's bed, wincing and angry at himself, because he didn't do mornings,
and certainly not with random guys whose main appeal the previous night had
been that they'd been there and interested.
No, it wasn't that kind of drunk. It was just the kind where the world seemed
simple and fuzzy around the edges; where everything felt light and bright,
every feeling and thought clear, distilled. It was the state where Kurt's
overly analytical brain took a break from his worries and his body reacted with
pure enthusiasm, forgetting about boundaries and social expectations.
The point was, Kurt knew exactly what he was doing – he just consciously chose
not to care. By the time he allowed himself to melt into Blaine's embrace, he'd
already absolved himself for following his instincts and accepted any and all
potential consequences. And now, he only focused on experiencing.
Kissing Blaine was like erasing years of sex just for the sake of getting off –
all those guys, dozens of them, that meant nothing in the long run – and
returning to the pure, unadulterated joy of intimate contact. This was how it
felt; this was what Blaine felt like. Blaine, who put all of himself into
kissing, passionate yet innocent, making Kurt feel it everywhere, from the
hairs rising on the nape of his neck to the tingling in his toes. It felt like
nothing else mattered, like kissing wasn't just a means to an end – and with a
start, Kurt realized that for Blaine, it wasn't. No matter what it was that
Blaine actually felt for him, he seemed eager to take however much or little
Kurt was ready to give him, and enjoy every second of it.
Kurt had no idea why this was proving to be such a turn-on for him – not
Blaine's innocence and inexperience, but his lack of expectations. It reminded
him of years ago with his first few boyfriends; all the fun of exploring and
learning, before sex had become something mundane, almost routine. His pants
were getting increasingly tighter already, his knees quickly getting to the
point of feeling weak, and it was just kissing, jeez...
"Bedroom, come on." His voice sounded rough and gravelly even to his own ears
and Kurt didn't wait for a reply as he took Blaine's hand and pulled him in the
right direction. Kissing while horizontal was better, after all.
It wasbetter; it was incredible – with Blaine stretched under him, whispering
his name like a prayer while Kurt took his time kissing and licking down his
neck and across his collarbones, as far down as the neckline of his henley
allowed. Blaine's hands were flexing against Kurt's back, little moans escaping
him as his hips jerked up against Kurt's thigh every time he discovered another
particularly delicious spot of Blaine's skin, and after a while it just wasn't
enough – Kurt needed more like he needed air. He pulled back to look into the
golden eyes beneath him.
"Tell me what you want."
"To see you. Please." The answer was immediate and Kurt was pretty sure he
understood, but he wanted to be certain.
Okay, he just wanted to hear Blaine say it.
"See me how?" His voice was even lower now and Blaine's breathing stuttered for
a moment before he specified.
"See you... naked?" It came out as a question with Blaine's voice breaking at
the end, as if he was afraid to even ask for so little.
Of course, what wasn't much for Kurt was a whole new world of experience for
Blaine, and Kurt was more than eager to accommodate him.
He used to be self-conscious about his body, but that was years behind him now;
he felt good in his skin. So there was no hesitation in his moves as he slid
off the bed and quickly unbuttoned his shirt before shrugging it off completely
and reaching to open his pants. Blaine's wide-eyed expression was full of awed
adoration, and god, Kurt loved seeing what effect he had on him.
Without any silly striptease moves (he'd tried those, once, and felt absolutely
ridiculous; it just wasn't him), Kurt slid down his pants, his hands quick and
well-practiced. He heard a sharp intake of breath when he bent to take them off
completely, and when he straightened back up, Blaine was squirming on the bed,
clearly uncomfortable in his deliciously tight jeans. Kurt swallowed a moan;
his cock was twitching in the confines of his navy briefs at the thought of
Blaine hard and aroused. He wanted the boy so much – to see, touch, taste... To
unravel him over and over again; to make him feel wanted and happy, and loved.
Whoa, slow down, tiger.
He pushed his briefs off and climbed back on the bed. "Do I get to see you
naked too?"
                                      ***
Kurt hooked his thumbs under the elastic of his briefs and Blaine let out a
choked sound, his hand flying to press against the fly of his jeans by its own
volition. He was about to see him at last, and fuck, it felt like this was
enough to make him come. In one fluid motion, Kurt slid the briefs down and
off, and then there it was. Kurt’s cock – large and thick, gloriously hard,
with pubic hair neatly trimmed – it was so much better than Blaine had imagined
(and he'd imagined plenty), so much more amazing than what he’d ever seen in
porn. He could hear his own needy whimper, could feel his own cock ache with
desire, but he didn’t care, too busy committing this moment to memory. Kurt,
naked and more beautiful than any man Blaine had ever known, standing there
just for him. It felt like he’d died and gone to heaven – and if this was
heaven, he didn’t mind dying at all.
He heard Kurt’s low, slightly breathless voice say as if through a thick fog,
“Do I get to see you naked too?”
The bed shifted and the next moment Kurt was kneeling in front of him, the head
of his cock swaying not two feet from Blaine’s face, and if he could just lean
in and taste… The thought alone was like pouring oil on the flames of his need.
"Yes."Whatever you ask me to do. However you want me.
He jumped off the bed, awkward in his rush, Kurt's eyes on him making his face
heat up. His henley was on the floor in seconds, his jeans joined it after a
moment of graceless, hurried fight with the tight legs, and then he hesitated
just for a second before losing the boxers, too, and for the first time stood
completely bare in front of another man.
If he felt uncertain at first, a shadow of self-consciousness, one look at
Kurt's flushed face was enough to smother it completely. He was kneeling on the
bed and stroking himself slowly, watching Blaine with dark, hungry eyes.
“Gorgeous.”
Just one word, but it meant more than all compliments Blaine had ever received
put together. Biting his lip, he got back up on the bed, his cock brushing
against the covers, causing a sharp hiss to escape his mouth. God, he was so
aroused it hurt. And the fact that Kurt’s hand had sped up and soft little
moans were escaping his lips now didn’t help in the slightest.
Blaine was about to settle back against the headboard when Kurt reached and
pulled him closer instead, and before he realized what was going on, they were
kneeling face to face. And then his hand was put in place of Kurt’s and he was
so shocked that he froze. Blood was pounding in his ears, his breath was coming
in shallow little pants and only Kurt’s hoarse whisper in his ear brought him
back into action.
“Come on, beautiful, you can do whatever you want.”
The words were followed by a sharp little bite to his earlobe, centering him
again. Summoning the last shreds of his composure, Blaine focused on Kurt – on
his cock heavy and impossibly smooth in Blaine’s hand, just a little too thick
to encircle it fully in his fist; on the way Kurt closed his eyes and moaned
when he moved his hand experimentally. Their position wasn’t exactly
comfortable, so Blaine improvised, inspired by his dreams and fantasies.
“Can you lie down?”
Kurt did so immediately, leaning back until he lay on the pillows, and reached
to the bedside drawer for a bottle of lubricant that he pushed into Blaine's
palm. A bit of fumbling with the cap and then Blaine was kneeling by Kurt's
side, one hand stroking him with growing confidence, the other daring to ghost
over Kurt’s neck and chest, circling a nipple, tracing a collarbone. He acted
on instinct, experimenting with touch, grip, speed, and listening for feedback,
stubbornly focusing on Kurt only, ignoring his own desperate need. He wanted so
much more, wanted to lie down beside Kurt and kiss him everywhere, taste his
skin and his sweat, and – god, yes – his come. But it felt so intimate, too
intimate when Blaine had no idea what it was between them. For all he knew, for
Kurt it might be just another hook-up, a one-time thing, and while he was happy
to have even this, he restricted himself to hands only. Getting too far, too
deep, would just hurt too much when Kurt told him tomorrow it had been a
mistake.
Judging by the way Kurt was moaning, almost keening constantly now, Blaine must
have been doing something right. He watched, fascinated, as Kurt’s pink nipples
tightened into hard little buds, as the muscles in his belly started to tremble
and his back arched. But then Kurt opened his eyes and whispered Blaine, and
his warm, firm hand was on Blaine’s cock, and it felt like it was created just
to be there, the perfect touch. Barely a few strokes and Blaine felt the hot
press of his orgasm gathering, rushing through him. He tried to move away, to
avoid splashing come all over Kurt’s perfect skin while still stroking him with
a hand that was shaking now, but Kurt stopped him immediately.
“Stay, I want you to – Stay here, yes, god yes– “
Blaine wasn’t sure which one of them came first. Everything was muted and yet
so intense – blood pulsing hard through him, red darkness as he squeezed his
eyes shut, sticky warmth and the bliss that felt more perfect than anything,
ever.
                                      ***
Kurt felt honestly stunned. In all his years in New York, he’d had plenty of
sex: a few boyfriends, multiple one-night stands, even one fiancé. Want, desire
– they were nothing new to him, and he hardly denied himself, even though the
last weeks had been uncharacteristically chaste. But it’d been years since he
last felt like this, his blood boiling just from kissing, touching, seeing his
lover's reactions. It took every ounce of his willpower not to try and slide
his cock between Blaine's puffy lips, so invitingly parted in awe as he watched
Kurt strip the last bit of his clothing.
And Blaine probably wouldn’t have said no, he knew. But Kurt was very aware
that he couldn’t do this. Even if he put aside all the other doubts he had –
the age difference, Cooper, all that – Kurt, even when tipsy, was way too
responsible to do anything more than what they just did. Blaine was a virgin.
Kurt, though always careful, had an extensive sexual past. He wouldn’t put the
boy in danger, no matter how improbable. Before they went anywhere further – if
they would – he needed to make sure he was clean. This was the first thing he
thought as soon as he came down from his earthshaking orgasm (and god, what was
it with this boy? It was just a handjob, how could it have felt more intense
than any sexual experience he’d had in a long time?)
Blaine was still trembling and dazed, kneeling by his side, and Kurt sat up to
embrace him and gently pull him down to the bed beside him. They lay there for
a long while, breathing heavily, barely touching, but connected in the way good
sex can accomplish. Kurt was starting to doze off, lazily contemplating just
pulling the duvet over them and cleaning the mess in the morning, but then he
felt Blaine shifting away from him and sitting up. He opened his sleepy eyes.
The boy looked contented and a little shell-shocked, but he was already
reaching for his clothes on the floor. Kurt felt a little pang of regret – yes,
he hated the morning awkwardness, and usually preferred to part ways with his
lovers right after sex, but tonight he felt like snuggling, and Blaine was warm
and beautiful, and smelled so nice… Shaking off the unusual bout of feelings,
Kurt stretched and asked.
“Are you going already?” A beat of hesitation, then, “You can stay if you
want.”
Blaine wouldn’t look at him, and this was never a good sign. Sleepiness
suddenly forgotten, Kurt sat up on the bed, concerned. Did he miscalculate?
Misunderstand Blaine’s eagerness? Did he take advantage of him, god forbid?
“Blaine?”
He looked at Kurt then, and his eyes were warm and full of emotion, a smile on
his face small and shy. He seemed alright.
“I'm gonna go. I don't want Cooper to worry if he wakes up, and… I think it’s
better if I go now, okay? Thank you, Kurt.”
Kurt nodded. A soft, silly part of him wished it wasn’t so, wanted to convince
Blaine to stay, but he shushed it. This was better.
“Thank you. And be careful on the way back, okay? Send me a text so that I know
you got home safely.”
“I will. I’ll be fine.”
Dressed already, Blaine hesitated a second before opening the bedroom door. He
opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling on a soft “Bye.” Before
Kurt could answer, he was gone. Only the sound of a key in the lock let him
know that Blaine let himself out and locked the door behind him.
***** Chapter 8 *****
They barely got to see each other the following week, and when they did, Kurt
looked like he was about to keel over from exhaustion. It was the week leading
up to the premiere and Kurt practically lived at the theater, sitting in on
dress rehearsals, adding final changes and alterations to costumes, sewing a
few additional ones in a hurry when there was a last minute change in the
director's vision. Blaine knew how busy and tired Kurt was, so when he dropped
by the theater a few times this week, always with fresh coffee and a bagel for
him, or some fruit, he didn't touch the subject of  That Night .
Blaine had feared the Morning After talk just as much as he felt hopeful for
it, but it had never come. They'd met for lunch the next day, but it was with
Cooper and Sebastian, and Kurt had been his normal friendly self – no
meaningful looks, but no avoiding Blaine's eyes, either – and everything seemed
like the night before had never happened. Except Blaine knew it had, his lips
still tingled whenever he looked at Kurt, he could feel the phantom touch of
Kurt's hand on his cock, half-hard just from the memories, could describe with
tiniest detail the way Kurt looked and felt, and sounded. And when Sebastian
leaned in to kiss Kurt good morning, the fierce protest almost choked Blaine,
trying to escape his lips.
Kurt hadn't said anything about it since, busy with work, and Blaine wasn't
going to pester him, no matter how much he wanted to know where they stood;
just as he wasn't going to kiss Kurt's temple tenderly when leaving him
laboring over the machine, or reach and fix his hair, tousled from running his
fingers through in frustration. He wanted to – god, he did, his fingers itching
to touch, lips drawn to kiss – but it wouldn't be fair to add more
complications to Kurt's already rough week.
He was almost certain he knew what he would hear, anyway. That Friday night,
he'd forced himself out of Kurt's bed and returned home as soon as possible
because he was afraid to hear that it had been a mistake, a one-time thing, and
could they please go back to being just friends? Blaine knew it was the most
likely scenario, he'd thought he was prepared for it, but not right then. Not
when all he wanted was to relive and cherish what just happened, as beautiful
and breathtaking as it was, not tainted with rejection or regrets. Not in the
moment when he felt so open and vulnerable, his heart and every nerve exposed,
pulsing with emotions he couldn't contain. He'd been pretty sure that if he got
rejected right then, he might have actually died. So he'd gone home.
But now, after six torturous days of alternating between Of course it was just
a one-night stand for him and But... he said he liked me!, Blaine felt like he
was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He needed to know, one way or another,
whatever it was – he just needed to know. But all he got so far was more
confusion as Kurt called today – Thursday – sounding bubbly and bright, well
rested at last, to tell Blaine he was taking him to the show premiere tomorrow
evening. And Blaine was excited, of course he was, and he asked all the right
questions about dress code and what time they should meet and where, but he
didn't ask the one he really wanted to, so he still didn't know.
Was it a date?
It seemed like one – they were going alone, just the two of them, all dressed
up, to a Broadway premiere; and it sounded so classy, so perfect for a first
date... except it most likely wasn't. Kurt was going because he worked there,
because this musical was what he'd put all of his time and effort into these
past weeks and now he could finally sit back and enjoy the effect, letting
other people worry. And he was taking Blaine, because... well, Blaine had told
him how much he wanted to see a Broadway musical, hadn't he? And Kurt probably
had a spare ticket, so he decided to be thoughtful. Yes, that was most likely
it. No need to get his hopes up.
But he still couldn't stop thinking about it, his dreams that night filled with
Kurt's kisses, his breathy voice, his hands and lips teasing in ways Blaine
didn't dare to ask for that night, and he woke up desperately hard and needy
the next morning, but most of all, overwhelmed with feelings. Because Kurt was
sex incarnated, yes, but he was so much more. Blaine wanted him to be more.
The day after such a night could only be filled with emotional turmoil, with
desperate hope, excitement and anxiety battling for domination in his heart. By
the time Kurt came to pick him up (like he would for a date, right?), Blaine
had had enough. As soon as he regained his ability to speak – because Kurt
Hummel dressed up was a view that should have books written about it – the
question spilled out of him as if a dam had burst.
"Kurt, what are we?"
The bright, approving smile that Kurt gave him as he came in and eyed Blaine's
simple, yet stylish outfit was fading now, and Kurt sighed, not even trying to
deflect the question.
"I was going to talk to you about it tonight, actually. I wanted to wait until
after the show, though – no need to distract you and spoil the fun, don't you
think?"
That didn't sound promising, but no matter what Kurt had to say, Blaine just
wanted it out, now.
"I don't think I can get more distracted. I keep thinking about you and me, and
that night, and what you said, and... Just tell me, Kurt. What is this between
us?"
Kurt nodded, his face solemn as he entered the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of
water out of the fridge. He leaned against the counter opposite Blaine and took
a drink. The silence was stretching between them, heavy with tension. Finally,
Kurt spoke.
"Okay. What do you want it to be?"
The question surprised Blaine, shook him into momentary speechlessness. He was
expecting a simple yes or no, friends or lovers, a decision he would have to
take and accept. Instead, Kurt asked him– and in spite of all his dreams and
hopes, he didn't know what to say. Was forever a stupid answer? Of course it
was, coming from someone you'd known for mere weeks, and a teenager at that.
What then? A relationship? Too vague. Boyfriends? Did they qualify, considering
Kurt was hardly a boy anymore?
His struggle for words didn't escape Kurt's searching eyes. He put the bottle
on the counter.
"Would you like it to be a date, tonight?" He asked simply and smiled as
Blaine's eyes widened in disbelief. "It can be, as long as you don't mind the
secrecy part. Because no matter what we say, I don't think Cooper is going to
be too understanding."
"Yes." The word was out of his mouth even before Kurt finished talking. "Yes,
I'd like that. Very much." He added, to make certain Kurt knew what he meant.
And then, just to clarify, he took the two steps between them and kissed him,
his heart light and giddy, ready to soar.
Kurt pulled away from the kiss way too fast for Blaine's liking, and reached
into the inner pocket of his jacket, his face suddenly more serious.
"Wait, I brought this for you, in case you were interested in us being...
more."
He handed Blaine a folded piece of paper and waited for him to open it. It was
some sort of lab report, plenty of medical abbreviations, and a bold, cursive
negative after each and every one. Was it...?
"I just got it this morning, that's why I wanted to talk to you . I needed you
to know, wanted to make sure. I'm clean, Blaine. I've been with plenty of men,
but I'm safe. So when we get any further than that night, you don't have to
worry about this. If we do, I mean – if you want to, at some point."
There was the tiniest bit of anxiety in Kurt's eyes, and Blaine couldn't have
that. He moved back into Kurt's space and into another deep kiss, pressing
against him in a way he hadn't dared before – and gasping at the delicious
friction when his hips moved just-so.
"I sodo. Can some point be now?" He whispered against Kurt's lips between
kisses and was amazed to hear him inhale sharply, feel him rapidly hardening
against Blaine's hip. The next instant their positions were switched, Blaine's
back pressed against the fridge with Kurt sucking lightly on his neck and
moving his hips against Blaine's, their erections perfectly slotted together,
in a way that made his eyes roll back. And then it stopped; cold, empty space
where Kurt had just been, and Blaine whined.
Kurt lay his hand on Blaine's cheek, pressed one soft kiss to his lips, before
moving even further away.
"I'd love to – you have no idea how much. But we need to go now or we'll be
late, and you don't want to miss your first Broadway show, do you?"
If Blaine was being perfectly honest, right now he didn't really care about the
show. He would gladly give up going and spend the evening naked in bed with
Kurt. Or just kissing, fully clothed. Or even sitting on a sofa together,
barely touching, while he reveled in a fact that they were dating. Or whatever
they were, together. That Kurt liked him, wanted him, that he was thoughtful
enough to make sure he was safe for Blaine. That he cared.
Which, actually, he could just as well do in a theater, sitting next to Kurt
and watching the show.
 
There was a cab parked in front of the building when they came out, though Kurt
hadn't called anyone since he'd come to pick Blaine up. Did it mean that the
car had been waiting all along? Blaine had no time to express his curiosity
because Kurt was already opening the back door and guiding him inside with a
gentle hand on the small of his back. He waited for Blaine to settle in and
closed the door behind him with a smile before getting in on the other side.
The driver, a young, long-haired blond guy smiled widely. "Hi Kurt! 'Sup?"
"Good evening, Steve." Kurt's tone and demeanor matched his outfit perfectly.
"I'm sorry if you had to wait."
"Nah, man. It's cool. Where d'you wanna go?"
"The theater, please."
"Sure thing." The car was already moving, the driver not paying them any more
attention, and Blaine started, feeling Kurt's soft, warm hand take his, their
fingers intertwining. The gesture, though simple, meant more than anything they
shared before, even that night in Kurt's bedroom. It was like a confirmation –
this wasn't just fun or sex. They were on a date.
But wasn't it supposed to be a secret?
Kurt smiled, seeing the question in Blaine's eyes, and brushed a thumb across
his knuckles. "It's okay. Steve is discretion personified."
Steve chuckled from the front seat. "Yeah, I'm deaf and blind here until I hear
my name." As if to prove his point, he started singing quietly with the radio,
his voice pleasant and surprisingly clear. Blaine pushed away the jagged edges
of a thought of how many times Kurt must have driven like this, with how many
men, to have tested Steve's discretion so thoroughly. He chose to focus on
Kurt's face instead, so beautiful and open as he brought Blaine's hand to his
lips to kiss it – soft, languid kisses over his knuckles, down the side of his
thumb, to the inside of his wrist where he paused. His tongue flicked out and
unhurriedly teased the tender skin over the pulse point, sucking at it lightly,
and Blaine's breath stuttered with the pleasure and intimacy of it.
Kurt smiled and lowered their joined hands to his knees where he continued to
caress Blaine's palm with feather-light touches of his fingers.
"Will you trust me with plans for tonight?"
"Of course." Blaine's voice came out a little raspy and he cleared his throat,
trying to conceal the effect Kurt had on him even with just the touch of his
fingertips.
"Thank you."
They rode in silence, only exchanging a sentence or two, but in the meantime,
their hands were having a lively conversation. Or, well, maybe it was a
monologue, with Kurt's hand continuing the slow, sweet caresses. Somehow it
moved to Blaine's thigh at some point and just stayed there, tracing abstract
little patterns, almost absent-mindedly. Blaine's hands were by this point
restricted to flexing and tightening by his sides as he focused on not
whimpering or climbing right into Kurt's lap.
And then they were at the theater, so he got out of the car, straightened his
jacket and reminded himself that officially, they were friends. Just friends.
Nothing more, in public. Kurt leaned towards the driver before getting out.
"Could you be here at 10:30? I have one more destination in mind for tonight."
He said, passing Steve a fifty.
"Sure. See you then."
The car pulled away and they walked towards the well-known building, and into
the crowd.
 
As exciting as the premiere was, Blaine had trouble focusing on the stage. Part
of it might have been the fact that he'd seen the play so many times in
rehearsals that he could quote parts of it in his sleep. But mostly, it was
Kurt's presence just inches away and the fact that this was a date, that caused
everything else to fade into the background, unimportant.
He stole glances at Kurt's lovely profile, sometimes catching him looking back,
eyes bright even in the dark and a corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.
Every casual, seemingly accidental brush of Kurt's fingers against his on the
armrest felt like a low electric current running up his arm and through his
body; every time Kurt leaned towards him to whisper something quietly into his
ear – a dry-witted comment or, once, a breathy "Have I told you that you look
gorgeous tonight?" – Blaine felt his heart quicken and his breath turn shallow.
By intermission he honestly hoped that there were no mind-readers around;
because frankly, even thinking about a quickie in a Broadway theater's bathroom
was probably awfully bad taste, if not sacrilege.
Kurt turned to him as soon as the lights went back up. People around them were
leaving their seats, chattering animatedly.
"Do you want to go get some drinks?"
"No. I want to kiss you." Oh, hello, blurter. Long time no see.
Kurt laughed fondly, but then his eyes widened and he looked thoughtful for a
moment before saying, "Actually, why not. Let's go."
This was too good to be true. They slipped through the Staff onlydoor and all
but ran towards Kurt's workroom. Almost there, Kurt stopped by an old wardrobe
crowding the narrow corridor and pulled on a piece of simple brown cord
sticking out from behind it. A second later a single silver key was in his
hand.
"I keep it here just in case. The guard closes the key cabinet for the night
and I need a way to get in sometimes. Shall we?"
"Yes."
 
The second Kurt shut the door and pressed Blaine against it, they were kissing
– deep, passionate kisses right from the beginning, and Blaine felt like a
thirsty man on a desert getting a cup of fresh cold water. He moaned into
Kurt's mouth and slid his hands under his jacket and up Kurt's back to pull him
closer.
"Fuck, why are you so hot?" Kurt sucked on Blaine's lower lip and trailed
kisses across his jaw to whisper against the sensitive skin of his neck. "All I
could think about out there was that I hadn't kissed you nearly enough before
we left."
His lips on Blaine's neck were insistent, feverish, and Blaine gasped Kurt's
name, turning his head to the side to give him better access. A heady rush was
coursing through him, and had he really ever thought that kissing Nathan felt
good? It seemed ridiculous now.
Kurt's hands were tight on Blaine's hips, his thumbs occasionally tracing
little circles, until he brushed over the erection straining Blaine's pants,
and they both gasped. Kurt moved his hand to stroke on purpose now and Blaine's
head thumped against the door as he arched; the sensation of Kurt's fingers
smoothing up and down his length was almost too much to bear right now.
"Kurt please... please." He couldn't stop the whimper.
"Please what?" Kurt murmured, low and rough, into his ear.
"I want you... so much..." He was panting, and the little part of his brain
still capable of rational thinking knew that they didn't have time or
conditions to do anything more now, but he felt like he was going to explode.
Kurt pulled away, flushed and dark-eyed, one hand reaching over Blaine's
shoulder to lock the door.
"We don't have much time. And you have to be quiet." And then he simply knelt
down in front of him, and Blaine had to bite the inside of his cheek not to
groan. Surely he was dreaming and was going to wake up any minute now...
Except he didn't.
"May I?" Kurt's voice was husky and the way he licked his lips shot right to
Blaine's groin.
"Yes. God yes."
Next thing Blaine knew, Kurt was opening his fly with practiced fingers,
pulling his pants and underwear down enough to free his cock, and nuzzling his
face into the crook of his thigh with a delighted sigh. And then...
And then Kurt's fingers closed around the shaft and his pink tongue traced
slowly across the head of Blaine's cock, gathering the precome leaking at the
tip, and Blaine didn't manage to hold in a choked cry. He'd never felt anything
so perfect before, soft and warm and so much gentler than a hand. But then the
velvet heat of Kurt's mouth enveloped him completely and it was the same
sensation multiplied by infinity, and Blaine's hips jerked forward of their own
accord. He pulled back immediately, apologizing in a breathless whisper, but
Kurt just grinned – and god, the picture of his perfect mouth just millimeters
from Blaine's cock was something Blaine would never, ever forget.
"No, it's okay. Fuck my mouth if you want to. I can take it. And don't hold
back."
With that, Kurt sank back over Blaine's cock, taking in all of its length, and
Blaine couldn't help himself even if he tried. His hips moving with gentle
encouragement from Kurt's hands, he had no words, no coherent thoughts; it was
bliss at its most basic and in the last flash of reason he pushed his fist
against his mouth to try and stay quiet. After that, everything faded but the
wet, slick softness around his dick and he hadn't even realized how close he
was until Kurt sucked on his way up and then danced the hardened tip of his
tongue around the sensitive edge of his cockhead, and Blaine was coming, hard
and fast, biting on his hand to keep the stream of sounds in. The last
sensation before his universe exploded was that of Kurt swallowing tightly
around his pulsing cock.
 
When he opened his eyes, he wasn't lying in his bed after an extremely
realistic erotic dream. He was in a dimly lit room full of fabrics and
costumes, leaning heavily against Kurt with his head on Kurt's shoulder and his
body loose and pliant. He noticed that his pants were back up, his belt
buckled, and he drew a long, shuddering breath, still unable to process what
had just happened.
Right then, a muffled sound of a bell came from a distance. Blaine raised his
head and met Kurt's eyes, sparking and tender.
"We need to go. It's the first call." Kurt pressed his lips softly against his
and Blaine couldn't stop himself from flicking his tongue inside just for a
second. The taste was new and foreign, and the realization that Kurt's kiss
tasted of his come was enough to make him half-hard again despite the post-
orgasmic sensitivity.
"What about you?" They had no time for anything more, but he couldn't leave
Kurt wanting, could he?
Kurt smiled and unlocked the door. "I can wait. Come on."
There may have been things happening on stage after they returned and the
lights went down again, but Blaine was too shell-shocked to pay them any
attention. He'd just received his first blowjob. From Kurt. In a Broadway
theater, during an intermission of a show premiere. And it felt about a million
times better than he'd ever imagined.
He couldn't believe this was his life.
***** Chapter 9 *****
The second half of the play passed so fast that Blaine was shocked to see the
curtain fall and hear the applause. When it was over and everyone started to
move towards the exits, Kurt stayed seated and pulled out his cell phone.
Blaine felt unease creep up on him. So was this the end of their date? Were
they back to normal life and checking mail already? But Kurt only switched the
phone back on, tapped one message and pocketed it again, and then his full
attention was back on Blaine.
"I let Cooper know that I'm taking you to the after-show party, so you'll get
home late."
"Oh! Are you?" It wasn't that Blaine was disappointed, not at all. A party
after a Broadway show premiere was really, really exciting. It was just that he
sort of hoped for a more private location.
Kurt's grin was positively wicked though. "Technically, yes. I wouldn't lie to
Coop, would I? It's not really a party though, just a toast to celebrate the
show taking off. No one has the stamina to party after the first show and
before three more this weekend. We'll have some champagne and then I have
someplace else for us to be."
Blaine found it hard not to bounce in place. This evening had already been
fantastic and with the prospect of more to come, his giddiness was getting out
of control.
They only spent half an hour backstage, the atmosphere light and bubbly like
the champagne that Blaine had never tried before but discovered he loved. It
tickled his upper lip in a way that made him want to ask Kurt to suck on it,
and he almost did before he recognized it as a sure sign that he was getting
tipsy and careless. He left his second glass unfinished after that and focused
on listening to the conversations around until Kurt looked at his watch and
motioned to him.
"Time for us to go. Okay, ladies and gentlemen, break your legs tomorrow, and
I'm on call in case of any costume crisis." Kurt blew them a collective kiss
and then left the backstage and the theater with Blaine. The familiar cab was
already waiting for them in front of the building. Blaine glanced at his watch:
ten thirty on the dot.
Kurt's phone vibrated with incoming text before they reached the cab. He read
it and showed the screen to Blaine with a grin.
Cooperson : okay but don't let him get drunk and fall for some actor, he's such
a lightweight
Blaine chuckled self-consciously, blush heating up his cheeks.
"Yeah, he gave me a beer two days ago and then made fun of me when I wanted him
to sing with me all evening. I think it's safe to say you did good, though. I'm
mostly sober and I'm not interested in any actors."
Kurt shook his head and bit his lower lip, making Blaine ache to kiss it.
"I should feel so bad about him not knowing, but I just... don't. It'll
probably hit me at some point, but for now, I'm just going to enjoy the rest of
our first date. Hop in." He opened the door for Blaine again.
Steve greeted them with a wide smile, nodded at the address Kurt gave him and
off they went. Blaine, silly and carefree from the champagne and pure joy
filling him, took Kurt's hand and turned to him with a hopeful smile.
"Kiss me?" He felt giddy and bold, even more so when Kurt didn't hesitate, but
unfastened his seatbelt and moved to straddle his thighs immediately, bringing
their lips together in a tender kiss.
"Hi," he whispered against Blaine's mouth before tilting his head and kissing
him deeper, and Blaine did something he'd really wanted to try but hadn't had a
chance yet. One hand sliding up Kurt's spine, he tangled the other in the
thick, soft hair at the back of his head and tugged lightly. Kurt took the hint
and let his head fall back, exposing the alabaster skin of his neck and throat,
and Blaine couldn't resist it for one second.
With just the tip of his tongue, he licked a stripe up the side of Kurt's neck,
and then kissed back down, slow and tender. He pressed a kiss to the hollow
under Kurt's ear, sucked lightly on the underside of his jaw, tasting the
barest hint of stubble; grazed his teeth as low as the collar of his shirt
allowed. Kurt was delicious, his skin soft and delicate, his smell
irresistible, a complex mixture that Blaine already learned to recognize and
associate with him. He was also letting out the most adorable, needy  sounds
and Blaine wanted to stay like this for the rest of the evening and explore all
of Kurt's sensitive spots.
It didn't happen, though. There was a sound of a throat being cleared, none too
subtly.
"Kurt, dude, remember the rules?"
Kurt sighed and pulled away, and Blaine bristled instinctively. Were they about
to hear something about being gay in the cab? But Kurt just recited in
monotone. "Seatbelts on until we park."
"See, not too hard is it? You can get your mack on when we're there."
Kurt shrugged apologetically, smiled, and kissed Blaine on the lips one last
time before climbing off, fastening his seatbelt and making sure his pants
still looked good after kneeling on the seat. They did, of course. Then he took
Blaine's hand and held it for the rest of the ride.
It felt perfect.
They stopped on a small, dimly-lit side street and Kurt hurried to open
Blaine's door, taking his hand again as soon as they were both standing. Steve
called out through the open window.
"That's it for tonight?"
"Yes, we'll walk back home. Thank you, Steve."
"My pleasure, boys. Night!" The cab took off with a squeal of tires and Kurt
focused back on Blaine.
"Okay, this restaurant is neither big nor particularly posh, but that's its
forte. Not many people know about it, it's my little secret that I have no
intention to share with the guys, and their food is to die for. We don't have
to hide while in here, okay?" As if to prove his point, Kurt pulled Blaine into
his arms and just looked at him, so close, his eyes warm and smiling. "I wanted
to be able to do this all evening."
With just a feather-light touch of his thumb, he traced the contours of
Blaine's lips before kissing him, slow and deep, right there on the street of
New York City.
 
Blaine didn't have any more alcohol that evening, yet he felt drunk when he
stole the last quick kiss in the shadows of the staircase in Cooper's building
and finally said goodnight to Kurt. He thought he'd known what a good date was,
but after tonight, he knew just how mistaken he'd been.
The dinner had been amazing.
After a short, quiet conversation with a waitress who clearly knew and liked
Kurt, they were seated outside in the small, hidden back garden, the air warm
and fragrant around them. They were alone there, in an intimate little dome of
soft candlelight. They held hands and spoke in soft, quiet voices, and Blaine
wasn't even sure what he was eating because he could only focus on Kurt – his
touch, his smile, the sparkle in his eyes; all for Blaine, no one else. There
was quiet piano music in the background and even the ever-present city
heartbeat of traffic sounded far away and muted.
After they'd eaten, Kurt led him to a swing on the patio, and the waitress
brought them a platter of fresh fruit. He knew the taste of raspberries,
apricots and grapes would never be quite the same after Kurt fed him with his
fingers, each bite followed by kisses and caresses as they sat so very close,
with Blaine's head cradled on Kurt's shoulder.
They walked home after midnight, a slow stroll through the tranquility of warm
summer night. They held hands for as long as they could, until Kurt kissed
Blaine's wrist and hesitantly let go because they were close to their homes now
and there were more people on the streets there.
Cooper was still up when Blaine entered the apartment.
"Whoa, if I didn't know what theater stuff does to you, I'd think you're in
love, you look so dreamy. How was the party?"
Blaine found it extremely difficult to switch gears and pretend, even for a
moment, that he hadn't just had the most magical evening ever, and not because
of the theater stuff. He knew he had to try, though.
"It was just... wow."
Cooper laughed. "Aww, you're so start-struck that you're actually incoherent.
Go to bed, you'll tell me about it tomorrow. Goodnight!"
"Night, Coop."
Yes. Tomorrow. Maybe by tomorrow he'd be able to open his mouth without
spilling everything about the most amazing date, ever, right at his brother who
could not know how close Blaine had gotten to Kurt.
                                      ***
Kurt managed to get home and close the door behind him before he panicked. He
flopped ungracefully on the sofa, not bothering to switch on the light, and let
the cold waves of anxiety wash over him.
What the fuck was he doing?
Sex was one thing, though getting it on with Coop's brother may have been a
very bad idea. However, that had been a conscious decision. But this? The rest
of tonight? It was supposed to be a date, yes, but the way it turned out... and
Kurt couldn't even say that it was acting, playing it so that they'd both have
a good time. No, he'd never have played it up to such an extreme. And he hadn't
even tried, here!
His initial idea had been to just take Blaine out for dinner to a popular Thai
restaurant he knew and liked. They couldn't have acted like a couple there, but
it was luxurious and exotic, and enough to impress any date.
Instead... oh god, instead Kurt let himself be swept off his feet by Blaine's
dashing appearance, by his sparkling eyes and his sinfully beautiful lips, oh
so delicious back in Coop's kitchen. Coop's kitchen, for heaven's sake! And
then Blaine's smell still lingered around him when they were in the cab and
Kurt just had to try and find more on his wrist, where his skin was so thin and
warm, and his pulse beat so strong and excited. And then–
Blaine was like a drug. His touch, his body, his taste, the way he unraveled so
beautifully right before Kurt's eyes, under his hands and mouth, over his
tongue, and fuck, Kurt was lost to it.
There could have been no generic, meaningless restaurant after that. He had to
take Blaine to that one, to his special place where he went when he wanted to
be alone, secretly hoping that one day there would be someone in his life to
share it with. He'd never taken anyone there.  And now...
And now he had no idea what to do. He hadn't acted like this in years, but it
felt so natural, so right. Blaine didn't deserve any less; only the best Kurt
had in him. But it could only mean one thing, this pressing need to give, to
care; Kurt knew the feeling, he'd been through this, several times in the last
ten years, in fact. And it never ended well, even when there hadn't been
complications in the form of age difference, protective older brothers or,
soon, distance. Here, it could only end catastrophically bad. He had to control
himself, damn it. He had to be the mature, reasonable one.
But he knew it was easier said than done. Kurt Hummel has always had trouble
resisting the call of his heart.
***** Chapter 10 *****
"Bee? Get up sleepyhead, breakfast is ready."
The sharp knocking on the bedroom door would be enough to give a dead man a
heart attack, so it was fortunate that Blaine was long awake. He'd been lying
in bed, dreamy-eyed and grinning with different levels of intensity, for hours.
Even with the buffer of the night behind him, he didn't trust himself, so he
was waiting for the familiar soft click of the apartment door closing behind
Coop. But now it seemed that his brother decided to deviate from his usual
Saturday routine of going to work "just for a couple of hours" in the morning.
Oh well, Blaine would have to mind his mouth and pretend not to be crazily,
ridiculously in love, that's all. He could do this, he wasn't in his school's
theater club just for credits, after all. And he didn't want to get Kurt –
well, both of them – in trouble, so that was the best motivation of all.
"Give me five minutes," he called out. He needed a moment to get in character,
at least.
"Oh come on, it's just me, you don't have to get all presentable. We're having
an Anderson Brothers Lazy Weekend Extravaganza here. PJs and male bonding on
the menu. Come out."
"Okay, okay. I'll be right there."
Cooper sounded way too enthusiastic for it to bode well, but Blaine knew better
than to argue. True, all he wanted was to see Kurt as soon as humanly possible
without waking him up and earning the Glare of Doom, but he couldn't just
dismiss Coop's plans. Especially when he'd normally jump at the chance to spend
more time with his brother without his job getting in the way for once.
He knew that by PJs Cooper meant "just enough to cover the naughty bits", but
he pulled on his old Batman pants and a t-shirt anyway. Somehow the thought of
being half-naked with his brother in the room felt less natural now than it had
ten years ago.
There was proper breakfast on the table when Blaine got to the kitchen,
complete with eggs, bacon, a heap of toast and a pot of fresh coffee. Cooper
grinned, already seated in his usual spot.
"So tell me about last night. How was the play, and the party? You looked
pretty happy when you came home."
Oh, okay. The play was a safe territory where Blaine could meander for hours.
The party? Not so much. His enthusiasm unleashed, he started talking between
bites of food.
"It was spectacular! The play was breathtaking; the music, the actors, the
costumes – I've seen rehearsals, but it really feels different when seen
properly, as a finished product, you know?" Sure, he'd been distracted for most
of it – but the atmosphere was definitely magical.
"You saw rehearsals?"
"Yeah, I told you, remember? Kurt got me a pass so I could go to the theater
and observe whenever I wanted."
Cooper nodded. "Oh, right, you might have mentioned something. I'm glad you two
clicked together so well." Blaine almost choked on his coffee before Coop
finished. "I'd be worried with you being alone all the time if he didn't agree
to keep an eye on you. Kurt's a good guy."
"He really is." God, if Cooper only knew...It was nearly impossible to keep his
face neutral, but Blaine couldn't resist asking from behind his coffee cup. "I
don't get why he's single. I mean, as much as I can tell, he should be quite a
catch, right? Handsome, nice, talented –" He actually bit his tongue not to let
the avalanche of other adjectives out.
Coop's smile disappeared as he shook his head. "He is a catch, he just doesn't
want to be caught. Kurt is... you could say he's been burned, time and time
again. Used, cheated on, dumped. After James broke up their engagement... I'd
never seen Kurt so broken before, Bee. He seemed like he'd shatter with the
slightest touch. And then his dad's surgery on top of that. He was gone for a
month, staying with his family, and when he came back, he was... different.
More guarded, less emotional. I guess it will take a hell of a guy to break
through his walls and get his trust now."
Suddenly choked up, Blaine searched blindly for something to say without
letting out too much. Distraction. Right.
"How about you? You're not half bad either and yet I haven't seen you with a
girl since I came here. Or is that what all the extra time at work really is?"
Cooper laughed but it sounded off somehow. He took his time finishing up his
eggs before he answered.
"Nah, it's just work. I'm not sure I'm a long-time relationship kind of guy."
Blaine frowned.
"Really? But it must be lonely, all by yourself. You can't just work all the
time, it's not healthy, you know?"
Coop snorted mirthlessly and stood up to put dishes in the sink.
"Shut up and come watch Die Hardwith me before I'm forced to use the you're too
young to understand it argument."
 
They were on the fourth movie and Blaine definitely felt lazy now, full of
pizza and popcorn and coke, and resigned to not seeing Kurt until Monday, when
Cooper's phone chirped. Used to his brother's long business conversations at
all hours, Blaine took the opportunity for a bathroom-and-text break (I wish I
could drop by to thank you for last night, but Cooper is keeping me chained to
John McClane. Help?). By the time he got a response (Rescue mission initiated.
Brace for impact.) and came back into the room, Cooper had finished talking and
was waiting with a remote in his hand.
"We're going out for karaoke with the guys later," he announced and pressed
play.
"Wait, what?" Blaine took the remote from him and stopped the movie again.
"Karaoke bar. Tonight. Sebastian called, he wants to go sing and drink, and
Kurt's in, so we're joining them. Obviously, you won't drink. Much. Unless you
don't want to go?"
"And miss hearing you three? No way."
"Cool. Now come on, unpause. This is the best scene."
 
The bar – one that Cooper and his friends frequented regularly, apparently –
was dimly lit and crowded on Saturday night, but Blaine saw Kurt immediately,
as if he was illuminated by an invisible spotlight. His heart skipped in a way
that told him he'd have to be very careful with his glances and words tonight,
when all he wanted was to take Kurt's hand and kiss him, no matter who would
see it and what they may have to say about it.
Kurt didn't seem to have any problems with pretending that they weren't...
dating? Boyfriends? Lovers? He greeted both him and Cooper like dear friends;
there was no telltale blush on his cheeks, not the tiniest change in his eyes
when he looked at Blaine. Just his usual beautiful smile – a smile that morphed
into tender and knowing, and laden with emotions the second Cooper and
Sebastian turned away for a moment.
It only lasted a heartbeat, that private smile brightening Kurt's face, but it
was enough for Blaine to know: he wasn't the only one who enjoyed last night
and itched to be closer. Just that one smile sufficed to calm down Blaine's
restlessness and charm his hummingbird of a heart into serene contentment. Kurt
was here. He was close, he was smiling, and – to whatever tiny degree – he was
Blaine's. That was enough for tonight. They would talk and sing, and listen to
other people perform, and have a good time. And soon, there would be time and
space for them again, a little pocket of existence where they could be honest
and open together. He could wait.
The bar seemed to be really popular ("The widest selection of songs in town,"
Kurt explained. "All kinds, that's why we come here.") and soon the karaoke was
going full force, with people coming and going, voices and songs and vocal
skills varying widely. The four of them were drinking and chatting, not yet
ready to join the fun – Coop even bought a beer for Blaine ("Just one and if
you tell our parents I let you drink I'll deny everything").
Soon Sebastian rubbed his hands together, though, and smirked. "Let's start
this show."
The moment he stood and moved towards the stage, tall and skinny and kind of
intimidating even out of his designer suit, Kurt leaned over to Blaine. "We're
sort of known here, the three of us. Most of these people are regulars and...
you'll see."
Blaine turned to the stage with increased interest.
He recognized the song instantly and watched with amazement as the man he
learned to associate with slightly contemptuous grins, snark and brutal honesty
did a brilliant rendition of Michael Jackson's Bad, complete with every exhale
of a sound, his hips snapping and circling, his voice strong and clear. Wow.
Clearly Coop only befriended talented people.
Speaking of which, his brother was next to claim the mic. Blaine had listened
to him and sung with him countless times when he was a child, but now it felt
different, with the perspective that time and distance had given him. He could
really appreciate now, through older ears – a musician's ears – how
effortlessly good Cooper was while rocking Aerosmith's old classic,Cryin', of
all things. How easily he pulled the audience in, people swaying and singing
with him, all eyes trained on him.
Suddenly, as if a forgotten drawer snapped open, Blaine remembered how back in
high school, before he moved out and went to college, Coop had dreamed of being
an actor, a singer, a famous star. How he'd rehearsed his dance moves in front
of the big mirror in their parents' huge closet when he'd thought no one saw
him. Blaine wondered now just how big those dreams had been; how much it had
taken to bury them and go into finance instead, using the analytical talents
their father always praised Cooper for. How many of his brother's obvious daddy
issues dated back to that period of loud conversations Blaine had understood
little of? Back then, he'd been bored with all the arguments, and just wanted
his big brother to play with him.
He'd have to ask him. Not tonight, though.
Now, Cooper was back, sweaty and exhilarated, promising Blaine to perform a
killer brother duet later, even as he dropped on his chair and downed the rest
of his drink. And sure, Blaine would indulge him, why not. He'd never really
had stage fright and the one person whose opinion he cared about in this room
had already heard him sing anyway, while he played the piano in his living
room.
For now, though, they left the stage for other people, chatting about Coop's
promotion and Kurt's musical, and it felt good. Blaine felt good – relaxed and
accepted here, where he wasn't labeled or compared to other people's standards.
Where he could be shamelessly, unapologetically himself.
The beer, even though sipped slowly, was affecting him already; creating a
gentle, pleasant buzz and making the world a happy, amusing place. The other
three were getting looser too, louder and giggly, and then Kurt was up with a
mischievous grin, Cooper and Sebastian cheering him on.
"Have you heard our gay diva yet?" Sebastian's voice was close to Blaine's ear
all of a sudden, startling him out of his reverie as he watched Kurt's ass in
his tight, tight jeans. Blaine shook his head and the man chuckled. "Oh, this
is going to be grand. Hold onto your pants, baby Anderson."
The_music started and Blaine was sure there had to be a mistake because there
was no way anyone would attempt this song at a karaoke bar – not just like
that, without warming up, not in the original key and surely not a man. He
looked around – half the crowd seemed to share his doubts, the other half
waited expectantly, excitedly even.
And then Kurt sang.
                    [share my life, take me for what I am]
Every note pure and perfect, shooting right to Blaine's heart, his soul, until
there was nothing else there, no bar, no people, no world, just Kurt, Kurt,
Kurt...
                [I don't really need to look very much further
               I don't want to have to go where you don't follow]
Kurt's eyes were closed, his hands moving gently with the music as he focused
on the song and the song alone, and Blaine wished – prayed – to one day deserve
these words to be directed to him, to earn them, to be the one to show Kurt how
loved he could be, how cherished and wanted and adored.
                      [don't make me close one more door
                          I don't wanna hurt anymore
                          stay in my arms if you dare
                         or must I imagine you there]
The song wasn't for him, he knew. But right then, he promised to himself that
he'd do everything in his power to be the man it could be for, one day.
                                      ***
Kurt got off the stage dazed and breathless, the standing ovation and the
lights too much after the moment in dark seclusion of the song where only
emotions reigned. A moment that always felt like eternity until it ended. He
made his way to their table amidst praises and awed looks from strangers. His
heart was pounding, excited, thrilled, and fuck, what had he been thinking to
chose I Have Nothing, the lyrics resonating through him so strong that they
were setting his feelings aflutter?
He hadn't been thinking, that was the problem – he'd chosen on instinct, a song
he felt like singing tonight. Which was fine, his instinctive decisions were
usually the best ones, but now, here, he couldn't trust himself and his
instincts. He had to be rational, reasonable.
Blaine's wide eyes and half-open mouth, and Seb's amused expression as he
watched the boy only confirmed what Kurt already knew. He had to control
himself better – had to step back from the edge before he threw himself off it
blindly, in the spur of a moment. He knew how easily he could do this, how much
he would enjoy it.
Until he crashed full force onto the jagged rocks on the bottom.
No. He had too many scars and patches already; he'd shattered one time too
many. He couldn't afford another try. Especially when there was no chance for a
happy ending.
He didn't drink anymore that night – he kept ordering for the others, but stuck
to Coke himself. It didn't keep him from having fun once he shook off the
temporary dread.
He immensely enjoyed the Anderson brothers' performance of Rio. He managed to
chuckle at Sebastian’s half-drunk teasing when Blaine sang, ridiculously tipsy
and looking right at Kurt with hooded eyes, When I Get You Alone. The
desperately hard press of the heel of his hand against his fly under the table
went unnoticed, and he thanked all the gods for the fact that Cooper took his
sweet time in the bathroom right then.
By the time his two very drunk friends forced him back on the stage with them
to perform Friday, the song Kurt hated with all his might, he'd had enough and
wanted to go home. But Sebastian insisted on one last round and Blaine, flushed
and adorably silly even though he'd finished his single beer ages ago, got a
crazy_idea , and Kurt simply couldn't say noto him.
He just hoped his friends were already too far gone to remember.
            [Here we go again, I kinda wanna be more than friends]
Blaine's opening line curled around Kurt's heart and pulled him into the song,
the headspace he could never resist even after he'd decided to pursue fashion
instead of musical theater. The stage still felt like home, right and
addictive, and sharing it with Blaine was just as good as he thought, hoped
–feared – it would be. Their voices were perfect together, as if the song was
written for them and Kurt felt himself slipping, drawing closer and closer to
the tempting cliff of sweet, deadly surrender.
No, he definitely wouldn't sleep tonight.
                                      ***
Sunday dragged like molasses, like tar that hadn't been heated enough or a
sticky toffee. By noon Blaine stopped looking for new similes and resigned
himself to the fact that there was no escaping Cooper's company today. They
were... bonding. Again. Grocery shopping, going to the movies, and making
dinner together. Scratch that, attempting to make dinner together – in the end
Blaine grilled the chicken and vegetables himself and sent Coop to nurse his
burned hand on the sofa. It turned out his brother was a klutz when hung-over,
and grumpy. Figures.
In the last few days they finally got to the point where they stopped walking
around on eggshells and started talking again – or maybe for the first time,
really, since the last time they were so comfortable and open around each other
Blaine was still a kid. It really felt nice, having an older brother again.
Still, a big part of Blaine's thoughts were somewhere else entirely the whole
day. In another apartment, just a block away, to be exact.
Then Monday finally came and Blaine had to force himself not to go to Kurt's
the minute the door closed behind Cooper in the early morning. He cleaned his
room instead, wrote emails to a few of his Dalton friends, did laundry. When he
looked at the clock again, it was barely eight. Kurt wouldn't be awake for
hours. He went to the gym, came back, showered and changed. Drank coffee.
Eleven.
Unable to wait any longer, Blaine went anyway. He bought a bunch of wildly
colorful flowers from an old lady on a street corner; then a box of raspberries
at a small produce stall. They were ripe and fresh, their color making him
think of Kurt's lips when thoroughly kissed.
He slipped into Kurt's apartment quietly, barely breathing, though his heart
already hammered a happy staccato beat just from being here at last.
"Blaine, is that you?"
Kurt's voice came muffled through the closed bedroom door just as Blaine toed
off his shoes. "It's me. I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"No. Come in here."
Elbowing the door open was a bit of a challenge, his hands still full of
flowers and fruit, but he managed and suddenly he was standing in the doorway
looking at Kurt stretched on the bed, barely covered by a thin sheet that
didn't hide anything, and it was a miracle Blaine didn't just drop everything
he carried. He forced his mouth shut and his brain to work again, and shrugged,
gesturing to his colorful cargo.
"Hi, I just... I'll take these to the kitchen."
"Mm, no, put them on the bedside table and come join me. I missed you."
And really, who was he to refuse when the adorably sleepy, unbearably sexy,
almost certainly naked Kurt Hummel invited him to bed?
Blaine had missed him too.
                                      ***
Kurt expected... No, actually, he didn't expect anything; with the practiced
openness of someone who'd had it good and bad and simply boring, and sometimes
– rarely – spectacular; who'd learned that you never really know how good of a
lover anyone was until you tried, he had no expectations. Still, he wanted,
yearned, and he knew that Blaine had to feel similar desire. So he was pretty
sure  there was an orgasm in his immediate future, one way or another.
But the slow kisses that started at his lips and moved towards his temples and
jaw, neck, throat, only became deeper and bolder, not progressing towards hands
or grinding or anything other than more touches. Kisses and caresses so tender
they stirred something long forgotten in him. It couldn't have even been called
exploration, a short scouting mission of sorts that some guys attempted to
serve as foreplay. No, this was just – Kurt couldn't even name it. It was as if
Blaine wanted to say hello to every millimeter of his skin, be it with the
touch of his warm hands or his soft lips, a slide of his tongue, a gentle graze
of teeth – everywhere. Literally everywhere, and Kurt just lay back,
surrendered to it, helpless because here he was – experienced and so certain
there was nothing left that could surprise him, sexually – coming undone in the
most innocent, beautiful of ways, at the hands of a 17-year-old boy.
It wasn't the steady slide towards getting off, slow or hurried, but sure. It
was... a serene warm sea of pleasure, lapping at him with gentle waves kissing
his skin, and soon he stopped wondering and analyzing, and just let go, fell
into Blaine's care, content to not hold back. It was as if his body was a new
instrument that Blaine wanted to get to know – every plane and angle, every
nook and cranny, tender and curious, fascinated by the sounds he managed to
provoke.
There were spots on Kurt's body he was pretty sure no one else had ever
bothered to pay attention to, and the warm waves echoed through him, evoking
sounds and reactions beyond his control. He never knew the hollow by his ankle
was a sensitive spot that sent him into arching pleasure with one sweep of a
searching tongue. No one ever cared to explore his ribs and sides with such
careful focus, discovering a whole spectrum of sensations, from ohmygodyes to
uncontrollable giggles.
Every inch of his back, one giant erogenous zone that could bring him to his
knees when used properly, but was always ignored after a short while, was now
played on perfectly, languidly, as if they had all the time in the world.
Blunt, calloused fingers raking down the sensitive skin with just a hint of
nails; soft kisses down the valley of his spine; warm tongue lapping
unexpectedly here and there, and before long Kurt was panting, moaning,
whimpering, unable to stop. He was this close to begging when Blaine's hands
slid down to his ass, stroking and kneading lightly. And when his lips
followed, wet and hot, nipping and sucking on the muscle, nowhere near where he
really needed it now, Kurt broke.
"Blaine please, please –"
"Turn over."
Blaine's voice was low and hoarse, his breathing labored, and Kurt groaned when
he twisted to lay on his back and saw his face – eyes dark with want, lips ruby
red. God, he couldn't remember the last time he wanted anyone so much; he was
on the edge already, this close, aching and leaking, precome smeared generously
around his navel.
"What do you want me to do?" Blaine was still fully dressed, his hand cupping
the straining denim of his fly for a fleeting moment, and this was ridiculous,
and ridiculously hot, and Kurt didn't know why he felt so much but he would
surely die if he didn't get off soon.
"Anything, everything. Whatever you want. Just, please. I need you."
Blaine took his sweet time getting up from the bed and stripping off his
clothes, his eyes never leaving Kurt's face, pink tongue peeking out once,
twice, to wet those lips that looked raw from kissing. And then he was naked
and gorgeous, and Kurt whined, his hips stuttering, seeking friction where
there was none.
"Come here." Blaine was dropping to his knees by the bed and Kurt understood
instantly, moving to sit on the edge, then laying back down when his arms
refused to support him. That mouth, god, these lips on him, there was nothing
he wanted more now. He nearly cried when Blaine kissed his thigh instead, his
hip, teasing. Until he wasn't.
Blaine's mouth was just... everything. Shy and bold; inexperienced and
enthusiastic. Gentle and passionate, quick to try and learn. Stretched wide
around Kurt's considerable girth, vibrating with the steady stream of humming
and moans as Blaine sunk over him slowly, deliberately, over and over again,
and Kurt's eyes rolled back, his last coherent thoughts scrambling and sizzling
to nothing. His fingers tangled in Blaine's hair, he barely remembered to tug
weakly and then he was arching and singing his release in some crazy scale,
broken roughly on a high note.
When he opened his eyes and blinked dazedly, it took him a moment just to
catalogue his surroundings. Blaine's head was leaning heavily against his knee
and Kurt sat up wobbly, to check on him and because he really, really needed to
see his face now. Blaine's smile was dazzling, come smeared around his lips and
chin, and Kurt pulled him up on the bed and into a sticky, salty kiss while his
hand sneaked down to try and take care of him in turn.
Except there was nothing to take care of anymore, his fingers sliding through
warm mess. Blaine chuckled self-consciously.
"I'm sorry. It wasn't... I didn't even... You’re just really hot when you come,
okay?"
And really, the only thing Kurt could do was pull this adorable, amazing boy
into another deep kiss.
But then Blaine stretched away a little and the next instant there was a ripe,
juicy raspberry in Kurt's mouth and god, this was the best Monday morning
imaginable. Naked in bed with a beautiful man, after sex that left him satiated
in more ways than one; kissing and feeding each other raspberries, and cuddling
a little, until they decided to get up. Delicious hot coffee followed, and then
pancakes made and eaten together among talking and laughter. Piano notes and
soft songs and more kisses, and it was just...
It was perfect.
***** Chapter 11 *****
"How about a shopping spree tomorrow?"
They were standing by the door in Kurt's apartment, trying – and failing – to
say goodbye on a Wednesday evening, after another afternoon spent together.
Blaine really needed to go home; Cooper would be back soon, with dinner, and it
would be suspicious if Blaine wasn't there after he said he was on his way. But
it was so difficult to leave when he could just stand here instead, making out
with Kurt.
The past three days had been like a dream. With no new costumes for the theater
needed for now, Kurt had an easier time at work, so he did some maintenance in
the costumes archive and worked on his private designs at home. If someone had
told Blaine that he would spend his summer afternoons with a man he was crazy
about, either in his New York apartment or in a Broadway theater helping him
catalogue a whole wardrobe of old costumes, he'd never had believed it. And
yet, that was exactly what he was doing, and he couldn't be happier.
Of course, he would be happy sweeping the streets if he got to do it with Kurt.
"Shopping for what?"
Kurt grinned and stole another kiss before answering. "Clothes, shoes,
accessories... I like the way you dress, but I'm itching to add some well-
chosen pieces to your wardrobe. I've seen some pants you would look
devastatingly good in and a few designer shirts I'd like you to try and –"
Blaine was really sorry he had to wipe this bright-eyed enthusiasm off Kurt's
face.
"Oh... I'd love to, Kurt, but I don't have any money of my own right now. Coop
is paying for my food and everything else here. I can't make him buy me
clothes, too."
Kurt snorted, clearly amused for some reason.
"Um, Blaine? Have you ever wondered how much your brother makes? I'll give you
a hint: he's a young prodigy in a large financial corporation, who has been
promoted three times in the last two years alone and never says no to overtime.
Plus, he's supposed to be an investment genius. Just ask him if you can go
shopping with me, and text me to set the time. Now go."
With a swift kiss, Kurt opened the door and gently pushed Blaine out towards
the elevator.
 
Hesitantly, Blaine approached the topic over dinner. Cooper's question about
his day worked just fine as an introduction.
"I was helping Kurt at the theater, he's been cataloguing old costumes.
Actually, he wants me to go shopping with him tomorrow."
Coop took another forkful of pasta. "Mm. Clothes?"
"Yeah."
"Good luck. Remember to wear comfortable shoes, shopping with Kurt is like an
Olympic sport."
Blaine cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling a bit like a leech. "I don't think
I'll go, though. It's not like I have any money to spare."
Cooper shrugged, not even looking up at him. "Oh come on, sure you can go, you
have my card, right? How much do you need? Five hundred?" He glanced up when
the silence continued, and clearly read Blaine's stunned expression wrong
because he shook his head. "No, you're right. I do owe you a few birthday
presents after all. Try to stay within a thousand though, all right? Kurt tends
to stick to designer labels, so he needs someone to keep him from going
overboard."
It took Blaine a while to find his jaw under the table.
 
Shopping with Kurt turned out to be exhausting, but also fun and satisfying in
a way Blaine had never suspected shopping could be. He'd never had anyone to
buy clothes with him before, and certainly not someone who would wait patiently
as Blaine tried on one thing after another, comment expertly on the fit and
colors, and offer honest opinions and advice. Eventually, he didn't even come
close to the limit Cooper had given him, and still came home with his arms
laden with bags and boxes. Not to mention a bit overwhelmed after spending more
on clothes than he ever had before within months, let alone one afternoon.
There were some shirts and cardigans there, two pairs of pants that hugged his
ass and legs in a nearly indecent way yet still managed to be comfortable, and
a few bowties that he couldn't resist. There was also a new cologne, one that
he'd wanted to try for some time and ended up loving. Kurt had taken one whiff
of his sprayed wrist and nearly groaned, his eyes getting darker in a way
Blaine  already knew oh-so-well, and it was the final push to buy the perfume,
in spite of its top-shelf price. Oh well, it was a gift from Coop, after all.
Later that night, on the verge of sleep, one thought fluttered around him,
making him smile into the soft darkness. They virtually hadn't touched today.
Not a kiss, a hug, no hand-holding – they were in public, in places where
privacy or secrecy couldn't have been guaranteed – and yet, it didn't matter.
With Kurt's smile and attention, with their easy conversation and instant
understanding, it still felt like a most amazing date. And this was new.
Sure, he may not have had much experience in dating, but he knew enough to
realize that it wasn't a given. He remembered the dates with Nathan, some
dinners and walks, a couple of movies, a little driving around, and how it had
always felt almost like a front, while beneath the thin surface both of them
really only thought of ways and places to get some intimacy, a few minutes to
themselves to make out safely, maybe go further, as far as circumstances
allowed.
And sure, there was the fact that with Kurt Blaine didn't have to constantly
dream about getting physical because they could, and they did; his needs were
met in a way they never had before, which made obsessing unnecessary. But he
was pretty sure it was more than that. While he wanted Kurt constantly, his
nerves firing up in his presence, humming and buzzing whenever they were close,
it didn't matter enough to block everything else – their conversations and
laughter, the understanding and interests they shared. They weren't just lovers
or whatever they were – they were friends. It was still new, fresh, nothing
like Cooper and Sebastian were to Kurt, certainly, but it was there, and it
made their entire relationship that much better, more complex.
 
On Friday Kurt decided that while he wasn't a fan of keeping animals in cages,
Blaine simply had to go see the zoo and the aquarium.
Except it took them longer than they'd planned at the Bronx Zoo because Blaine
couldn't get away from the Children's Zoo section, feeding and petting the
goats and llamas, and talking to them until Kurt was a useless giggling mess
crouching on the ground with a stitch in his side. And then there was the
butterfly garden and it was just so beautiful and interesting, that by the time
they left the zoo it was past six and there was no use going to the aquarium
today. They settled on dinner at Kurt's place.
The clouds that had threatened overhead for half the afternoon finally burst
just as they were getting out from the subway station. The downpour was sudden
and surprisingly cold for a summer rain, and left them drenched within seconds.
It should be annoying, but they ended up laughing instead as they sprinted to
get to the dry, safe haven of Kurt's apartment. It was that infectious kind of
laughter that fed on each other's hilarity until they were gasping and
clutching at their bellies, their muscles aching from the run and the effort of
hysterical giggling. They were home by then, dripping on the floor of Kurt's
small hallway, their clothes and hair soaked through, faint ripples of laughter
still vibrating through them on every other breath.
And Blaine wasn't sure how it happened, but the next instant they were kissing,
wet and cold but sparkling heat from the inside. It was as intense as the
laughter had been, the same energy flowing between them. And then Kurt gasped
against his lips between kisses, "Shower. We'll catch a cold", and his hands
were tugging at Blaine's shirt, impatient. A race to rid each other of their
clothes followed, and Blaine had never gone from wet, cold and giggly to hard,
hot and wanting that fast. He might have become a little dizzy from all the
blood leaving his head in a hurry.
Kurt's shower wasn't really built for two, but the hot water and the proximity
in the small stall was all Blaine could dream of now. It felt so intimate, just
showering together, that his breath caught for reasons that were not really
sexual for a change. Neither of them could move freely, so for a moment the
kissing was forgotten as they washed each other, a little shy with the novelty
of it, but unable to contain their grins as their bodies regained the warmth
the rain had stolen from them.

But then the slick, soapy hands were touching places and stuttering hips caused
some quite accidental contact that quickly progressed into non-accidental in
the least, and all of the sudden there was hot, lathery naked frottage in that
tiny shower stall and god, Blaine wanted it to last forever. Kurt pressing
against him hot and wet, his hips rocking and undulating in ways that made
Blaine's eyes roll back, their cocks aligned perfectly, slick with the soap and
water.
And then Kurt's hand on Blaine's ass pressed him closer still, his fingers
sliding in a single slick caress along his crack and over his hole and Blaine
was coming, unexpected and shocking, his rough cry echoing against the bathroom
walls.
The movement of Kurt's hand just inches from him registered first, before any
other sensations came back. It took his brain a few seconds to connect the
familiar rhythmic slides and the hushed moans that were just getting to the
point of desperate, but once he did, Blaine was dropping to his knees under the
still hot water spray and turning his face upwards towards Kurt – his flushed
cheeks, half open mouth, his hand moving ever faster as he was jerking himself
off. Blaine's voice was still rough and breathless from his orgasm, but sure
and pleading.
"Come on, I want you to, want... Please..." It was so hard to voice the
boldness of what he wanted, but it didn't matter, Kurt understood. His eyes
went wide and he keened, shooting stripes of white all over Blaine's face, his
open mouth, his cheeks and forehead, and fuck, if it wasn't the hottest thing
ever.
                                      ***
Kurt was already halfway through his first cup of latte when Blaine entered the
coffee shop the next morning. He looked tense and anxious, and Kurt flinched –
okay, maybe he should have thought twice about what he was going to say before
he'd called Blaine barely after nine. You don't usually expect anything good
when someone tells you to meet them as soon as possible because you two should
talk.
But he'd been unable to sleep and not caffeinated yet, and he'd really wanted
to talk right then and –
Okay, he'd fix it now.
Except Blaine stopped at the counter, taking a lot of time deciding on his
order before he finally got to the table and sat down. He looked paler than
usual, his eyes lacking the usual sparkle, but his voice was resolute as he
spoke.
"You're going to call it off, aren't you? Us?"
Kurt shook his head fervently. He would have grabbed Blaine's hand if they were
somewhere further away from their neighborhood, but as it was, he had to settle
on an open, reassuring look.
"No, of course not! I'm sorry I didn't make it clear on the phone. I just want
to talk."
Blaine seemed to breathe easier, but uncertainty on his face lingered.
"Right, about us. But... why the hurry, and the public place then?"
Kurt hesitated for a second. This was going to sound so weird. But he had his
reasons.
"Um, it's... a sex talk, okay?"
He saw Blaine's eyes go wide as the boy took in their surroundings. It was ten;
the coffee shop was quite busy, but with the table he chose in a far corner, it
was quite a secluded place. Still, they were in public; it wasn't quite the
kind of place most people would choose for talking about such intimate things.
Kurt smiled self-consciously.
"I know, we're in a coffee shop. But I want us to talk, not to end up in bed
five minutes into the conversation, which would undoubtedly happen in more
private circumstances."

Blaine relaxed at last, tension seeping out of his posture and a shadow of a
smile appearing on his face. 
"Okay. What kind of sex talk? Because I already know about bees and birds and
stuff..."
"Mm, I'm sure you do." Kurt couldn't help but smile. "But I want to talk about
boundaries."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what you want, sexually, and what you don't. Yesterday, in the
shower... it made me realize I've never asked what you are ready for."
The answer was immediate. "Everything."
Kurt shook his head. "Define your everything. I want to know exact, specific
things."
"Why?"
"Because I've done a lot; I've been doing a lot for a long time. So sometimes,
in the heat of a moment like yesterday, I may forget that you haven't done it
all yet. I don't want to push your limits or worse, inadvertently cross them.
So I need to know what is okay with you. I need guidelines."
Blaine took a long drink of his cappuccino and sighed deeply. When he spoke
again, there was a flush high on his cheeks.

"Okay. Confession time. Promise you won't judge me?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Have you met me? I only judge based on clothes. Unless,
wait – I won't judge you if you like playing dress-up, I promise."
Blaine chuckled. "No, I don't think I do. But other than that... Kurt, I mean
it when I say I'm ready for everything. I know I'm a teenager, so it would be
weird if I wasn't permanently horny, but I kind of... I... Okay, let's put it
this way: I'm not entirely sure I'm not a pervert." 
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I don't think anyone normal fantasizes about so much, so often.
Especially when they are seventeen and inexperienced. And even if they do, they
probably wouldn't jump to do it all if they had a chance."
Kurt felt his mouth go dry. Yes, a public place was a good idea. He arched an
eyebrow to prompt Blaine to go on.
"Obviously, I never actually did jump to do anything before, but I'm fairly
certain I would have if I'd had an interested partner, and later, a place and
time. I was even considering renting a motel room with Nathan for a few hours,
right before... So, yeah. I mean, there's only so much you can do by yourself,
and with your fingers being kind of short, and no discreet ways to get any
um... toys? It's hard."
Hard was a key word here, and not just for teenage needs... Kurt felt how
flushed he must be despite the air-conditioning working full force. He
swallowed thickly and reached for his coffee.
"You tried... with your fingers?" The image in his mind was almost too much.
Blaine sighed, fidgeting with a stirrer.
"I did. Twice. I loved the feeling, but it was all wrong angles and too
shallow, and more frustrating than satisfying like that, so I gave up until I'd
have a chance to try with something else. Or... someone. But I want to. God I
want to."
Kurt may have lost it a little, judging by the choked sound that was suddenly
out without his permission. He cleared his throat and tried to get back on
track. Talking. They needed to finish talking.
And no, this wasn't a place where they could disappear into the bathroom
together, just for a moment. Or a dark alley. Not that Kurt did that. Much. But
fuck...
"Um, okay, yeah. I get the picture. And do you mean just fingers and toys or–"
Blaine shook his head quickly. "No, nonono, I mean everything, Kurt." His
breathing was fast and shallow, his eyes darkened. Kurt swallowed a whimper and
tried to make his brain work again.
"Okay. Good. Yeah. But... why would it make you feel like a pervert? It's not
that weird for a gay boy to fantasize about that."
Blaine chuckled self-consciously. "Oh, but you don't know the half of it."
Kurt took a deep, steadying breath. "Tell me."
Blaine was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice trembled slightly.
"Come. The taste, the texture, how purely male it is... I've always thought I
would love it and... yeah. God, Kurt, what you did yesterday? I knew I wanted
that, but not how much I'd love it. So much..." He broke for a moment, biting
his lip, before he continued. "And... I have this fantasy sometimes. There's a
man there, someone I feel comfortable with. Someone I trust. And he... makes me
do things. Like, tells me what to do, commands me, even. And I'm always so
obedient there. So good. Sometimes he talks dirty to me or just... uses me. No,
I know, that sounds terrible, but it's in a caring, almost loving way and...
god, I always get off so hard on it, Kurt." Blaine shook his head and reached
for his coffee, his cheeks burning.
Kurt breathed out, barely audible, awed. "You have fantasies of submitting."
Blaine hid his face in his hands. His voice was muffled now. "Yeah. And... not
just that. Sometimes my hands are restricted – tied or held down, or there's a
blindfold, or... or I'm forbidden to come until he does, for hours even. What
kind of teenager dreams of that, Kurt?"
Kurt reached to touch Blaine's hand in a fleeting, warm caress. "A bold one.
Open minded, one who recognizes his needs."
Blaine's head shot up. His eyes were wide. "You're not freaked out."
"Not in the slightest. So I know you're open to a lot. Are there things you
know you don't like? Don't want to try?"
Blaine thought for a moment. "Not many, I think. Pain doesn't appeal to me at
all. Name-calling, I've read that some people like that. And... I saw this
video with peeing and, no. Definitely not. I can't think of anything else right
now."
Kurt nodded. It was somehow easier to manage his arousal now that he focused on
specifics, and he really wanted to have it all out in the open, so that they
could focus on doing, not talking later.
"Okay. Do you want me to ask you first whenever I want to do something that we
haven't done before?"
Blaine shook his head without hesitation. "No. I trust you. And I'll tell you
if I don't want something, is that okay?"
"Of course."
"What about you?" Blaine's face was earnest in front of him; so beautiful.
"The same deal."
"Okay."
There was a moment of silence when they just looked into each other's eyes, air
heavy with want and promise between them. Kurt was the one to ask, his voice
rough. "Would you like to come home with me now?"
Blaine sighed and shook his head. "As much as I hate to say that, I can't. I
told Meg I'd meet her at noon."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Meg the kissing girl from Central Park?"
"Yes." Blaine was blushing again. "I thought it would be nice to have some more
friends here, and we're both into music, so... I told her that I'm gay, though.
We're just going to have lunch."
"So you need to go now."
"Yeah. And then Cooper will be back home, so..."
Kurt sighed. "Alright, I get it. It's okay, I should work on my designs anyway.
I can't promise I won't think about you, though."
And oh, did he...
***** Chapter 12 *****
Lunch with Meg was loads of fun. Now that she knew that Blaine was gay, she
kept teasing him about not giving her a chance, but there was no awkwardness or
discomfort between them. Music was the main topic, of course, the two of them
debating various college choices, with Blaine actually taking notes. Meg knew a
lot about all the best places to study music and musical theater in New York,
and in a few short months all the information would prove priceless when Blaine
was deciding where to send his college applications.
Then the talk took a turn toward practical exams and performances, and before
Blaine knew it, his new friend had convinced him to go to an open mic event
with her that night and try his hand at charming the New York audience. They
parted, promising to meet at eight, and the excitement that accompanied Blaine
the whole way home reminded him of his first weeks as the lead singer for the
Warblers, where every rehearsal and every performance, even just in the Dalton
common room, made his heart pound and soar.
Oh yes. Performing was when Blaine felt happiest.
He spent the afternoon going through songs he thought would be fitting for the
occasion, bouncing around the house until Cooper threatened to cut his coffee
supply. He also called Kurt to ask, shyly, if he'd be interested in going with
them, but Kurt was already deep in designing mode, absentmindedly rambling
about corsets and purple lace, so in the end, it was only Blaine and Meg. Well,
and the audience of about a hundred people.
When he came home late that night, Blaine felt as if he floated on a cloud. Not
only had the audience loved his singing, applauding loudly and calling him back
for an encore, but the owner of the bar approached him after his numbers to
talk. He asked Blaine if he'd be interested in coming to play for three or four
hours one night the following week. He wanted to pay him and all, and if Blaine
did well, he'd have a chance to play two or three nights a week for the rest of
his stay.
Which would be amazing – a chance to earn his own money and get some
experience, maybe even references. Meg, impressed and happy for him, told him
it would look great on his college applications.
Lying in bed that night, Blaine considered calling Kurt and telling him all
about his evening, but in the end he decided against it. He'd tell him in
person. He wanted to see Kurt's face lighting up with that proud smile of his
when he heard.
Grinning, Blaine switched off the lamp and closed his eyes.
 
The reality proved to be disappointing.
Most of Sunday passed without a word from Kurt, his phone going straight to
voicemail. So in the afternoon Blaine went to his apartment to share the news
and, hopefully, celebrate – with hot coffee and a steamy make-out session at
least. Instead, he found Kurt by his kitchenette table, surrounded by empty
coffee cups and dozens of drawings, his hair a mess and dark circles around his
eyes. He was still wearing the same outfit he had on in the coffee shop
yesterday.
Kurt barely looked at him over yet another sketch of a female figure wearing
some sort of a complicated dress, and when he did, it took him a few seconds to
register who he was looking at. His smile was tired, but bright when he finally
did.
"Hi! Were we supposed to meet today? I'm sorry, I got the most inspired idea
ever and I just had to get it all on paper while it's still fresh.
Theatricality in everyday clothes, Blaine, what do you think? Something for
those who like to dress with flair. I just need a little more time and then
I'll be with you."
So Blaine waited, practicing the songs he planned to play at the bar on
Thursday, changing and perfecting his songlist until it looked just right. But
over three hours had passed and Kurt still hadn't moved from his seat, his
pencil gliding and whispering across the paper with increasing speed. Finally,
everything went quiet and Blaine looked up from the keyboard, hopeful.
Kurt was asleep with his head on the table, his eyes closed and the pencil
about to fall out of his loosening grip. He looked exhausted. A warm wave of
tenderness rose in Blaine's chest. He got up from the piano and went to gently
take the pencil away. It was enough for Kurt to wake up with a start. There was
smudged graphite on his cheek and the lines of the topmost, unfinished sketch
looked shaky and imprecise, but he wasn't about to give up easily.
"Just a minute, 'm almost done," he mumbled, his voice scratchy, and Blaine
decided it was time to put his foot down.
"Mm, no, baby. That's enough for today." He'd never used the endearment outside
of his head before and it surged in a warm wave through his chest, so much
better when out in the open. "Come on, let's get you to bed. You're too tired
to even draw properly. Get some sleep, you can finish when you rest a bit."
Kurt grumbled a little, but he clearly didn't have energy to protest as Blaine
helped him up and into the bedroom. Undressing Kurt who'd gone limp and heavy
against his chest was another level of intimacy that Blaine had never thought
of before. Far from sex or romance, this felt like pure loving care, one that
partners or – the thought daring but not unwelcome – husbands could share.
Kurt was asleep before his head hit the pillow, and Blaine tucked him in and
spent a long moment just looking at him – the vulnerable beauty of his face,
his strong arms, the line of his long neck. Then he softly kissed Kurt's cheek,
closed the bedroom door and went to tidy up the kitchen. He washed the dishes,
put the sketches in a neat stack ordered by numbers Kurt had put on them and
cracked the window open to let fresh air in. Then he slipped out of the
apartment and returned home, a little sad, but with love glowing like hot
embers in his chest.
But even the love and tender memories of Kurt's soft features as he fell asleep
weren't enough to cancel out the nasty mood that Blaine woke up in the next
morning. He knew it had plenty to do with the disappointment of Kurt not even
asking how the open mic had gone. And while he scolded himself for being
selfish and unreasonable, the feeling was there anyway. So he decided to run to
the gym and try to sweat out the stupid, childish need to throw a tantrum.

He boxed some and then worked out until he was barely able to stand straight,
his body and clothes soaked in sweat. But he felt better afterwards, finally
able to accept his feelings with no grudge against Kurt. It felt right;
healthy. He could deal with his disappointment like a man, not a pouty kid.
His phone rang just as he was opening his locker to take out his toiletries and
head for the shower. Kurt. Blaine looked at the clock overhead – it was barely
ten. But then again, he put Kurt to bed before eight last night.
Kurt's voice was low and urgent when Blaine picked up.
"Hi. Where are you?"
"At the gym. I was just going to shower and go home."
"Ohmygod." It was basically a moan. Certain parts of Blaine's anatomy proved
that they weren't tired enough not to react immediately. "Forget the shower, I
need you here right now."
"But Kurt, I'm sweaty and disgusting..."
"You can use my shower, but move your sweet ass and come here now."  Kurt's
tone thrilled deliciously in Blaine's blood and he swallowed a whimper, mindful
of other guys in the locker room.
"Okay. I'm on my way."
 
Half an hour later Kurt let him in and Blaine barely had time to open his mouth
to say hello before he was pressed roughly against the front door with Kurt
devouring his lips without the tiniest attempt at finesse. Blaine had never
seen him like this, practically growling with desire, and it was like wildfire
for him, flaring in a matter of seconds until he whimpered and clutched at
Kurt's hips.
But as soon as he did, his arms were lifted and shoved against the wood
overhead. Kurt held both his wrists easily with one hand, his grip tight but
not enough to hurt, while the fingers of the other hand tangled in Blaine's
hair and tugged his head back to stretch his neck. Blaine felt his hips buck
uncontrollably when Kurt's hot tongue swirled down the slope of his throat. And
then Kurt's teeth scraped none too gently on the side of his neck and the last
of thoughts in Blaine's head sizzled to nothing.
He wasn't sure how exactly it happened but some time later he was naked against
the door, wanting nothing more than to come as Kurt, still fully clothed, was
kneeling in front of him, kissing and sucking at the crease of Blaine's thigh,
his balls, never reaching his aching, leaking cock.
There was something not quite right though, some thought trying to push through
with annoying insistence, and finally it hit him: he was still sweaty and
possibly smelly from over two hours of his workout.
The thought was enough for him to stir uncomfortably and try to stop Kurt's
enthusiastic exploration.
"Kurt." Another shot of overwhelming pleasure distracted him, but he tried
again. "Kurt, wait, no, I need a shower. Come on."
With a disgruntled grumble Kurt stood back up and kissed his lips, deep enough
for Blaine to get a hint of musky, sweaty taste on his tongue. Oh no. Ew. He
should have showered before coming here after all. He always took care to be
fresh and nice before every date, especially since he sweated quite a lot. And
now that Kurt had seen him – tasted him! – like that, he would probably be
disgusted and never want to be with him ever again and –
"Okay, if you insist. But suck me first."
Ngh. It was the firm, commanding voice again and Blaine was already switching
their positions and dropping to his knees, all self-consciousness forgotten the
moment Kurt opened his fly and lowered his pants just enough for his cock to
spring free. The head was rosy and shining with precome in a way that made
Blaine's mouth water. He reached to touch, but Kurt shook his head, making him
whimper with anticipation.
"No, no hands. Just open your sweet pretty mouth and take it, I'll do all the
work." As if to confirm his words, Kurt took his own cock and circled the tip
over Blaine's eagerly open mouth, smearing the moisture all over his lips.
"Don't come, no matter what." He dove into Blaine's mouth, careful not to choke
him, but deeper than ever before, and spontaneous combustion suddenly became a
real possibility because holy shit.
Kurt's cock stretching Blaine's mouth enough to make his jaw ache, sliding in
and out at a slow, controlled pace and filling him perfectly; Kurt's fingers
tightening in Blaine's already loosened curls; the discomfort of hardwood under
his knees grounding him enough to keep him from exploding – everything was a
blur of pictures and sensations. Kurt's eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open
in pleasure. The salty flood of come on Blaine's tongue. The trickle of it down
his chin as Kurt withdrew while still pulsing, to avoid pushing too deep on
reflex.
Blaine dug his nails deep in his own thigh to keep from flying over the edge,
and took it all. Graciously. Eagerly. Never wanting to stop.
He whined when Kurt's hands pulled him up. His knees protested the position
he'd put them in, but he didn't care. He'd do it again. He'd do a lot more.
Kurt kissed his swollen lips. "Thank you, beautiful. That was perfect – you are
perfect. Now go shower quickly and I'll take care of you when you're done.
Don't bother with clothes."
It was possibly the fastest shower of Blaine's life.
When he got out, Kurt was in the bedroom, pacing. It felt a little weird to be
stark naked and painfully, obviously aroused with Kurt being fully dressed
again, but only for a moment, until he took Blaine in his arms and kissed him.
The soft cotton of Kurt's shirt caressed Blaine's skin, the jeans of his pants
was slightly scratchy and exotically new, and waiting for whatever was about to
follow filled Blaine with sweet anticipation.
What would that be? After their talk two days ago, he knew it could be
anything.
He learned soon enough. Kurt turned him so that he faced the bed, and pressed a
few kisses to the back of Blaine's neck and shoulders. Then he withdrew half a
step. When he spoke, his voice was soft, but with the same commanding note that
made Blaine's blood sing.
"Bend down, legs wide." Kurt pushed him gently so that Blaine bent in half, his
forearms resting on the bed. Heart pounding, he moved so that his legs were
spread and the realization what he must look like made him shiver with arousal.
He felt so exposed, on display, and Kurt must have liked that, judging by the
throaty groan Blaine heard behind him, followed by a whisper of discarded
clothes.
Kurt was getting naked.
Would they–? Would he lose his virginity today, in the most definite of ways?
He couldn't wait.
                                      ***
Naked and bent over Blaine, Kurt kissed down the perfectly toned, muscled back,
down to the the twin dimples at the small of it. He took his time, licking and
grazing with his teeth while Blaine whined impatiently and pressed back against
Kurt's cock, already half-hard again.
God, he was so gorgeous, so perfect, all exposed and trembling with
anticipation. Kurt ghosted his fingertips down over the dusty pink dot of
Blaine's asshole – so lovely, untouched and wanting – and his heart fluttered,
moved by the display of trust and desire. Blaine keened at the contact.
"So pretty. You're so beautiful like that, Blaine." Kurt kneeled down and
kissed the swell of Blaine's delicious round ass, played with the firm curves
for a moment, but the pink asterisk was too tempting to resist. He sucked at
his finger and slid it down the crack; no pressure, just a soft stroke, and
Blaine gasped.
"Kurt, are you going to –" The rest was lost in a hoarse moan as Kurt's tongue
followed the path his finger had taken, tasting the clean, soap-smelling skin
and reveling in the exploration.
"You're so tight, so perfect," he murmured, licking languidly over and around
Blaine's entrance. "So fucking hot, Blaine, so ready for me. I could slide in
just like that." He pushed his tongue past the barely resisting muscles,
Blaine's shocked cry of pleasure shaking his small frame. Kurt speared his
tongue in and out a few more times, Blaine's constant keening spurring him on,
before retreating and kneeling lower to mouth over his balls. "I could finger
you open right now..."
"Oh god, yes, please yes, do it, I want you, want you so much..." Blaine was
babbling, trying to push against Kurt's fingers, but Kurt had other plans for
now. Still murmuring praises and filthy little offers, he moved to push his
tongue into Blaine's asshole in earnest now, pumping in and out at a fast pace,
backing out every few strokes to dance his tongue around the rim.
Blaine's voice was loud, louder, his ass pressing back against Kurt's mouth,
his hands fisting in the duvet. And then, when all of Blaine's muscles were
drawn taut, trembling on the cusp of falling, Kurt paused.
Everything stopped for a heartbeat.
Until his finger slid in, slow but deep, and Blaine cried out and clenched
around it, causing Kurt to moan at the shocking tightness as Blaine was coming
and coming and coming, his cock untouched.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Sebastian hadn't planned to go to  The Tipsy Hippo on Thursday, though Cooper
had told him about Blaine's performance. But then the extortion case he was
assisting on blew up and all shit broke loose. He had to stay at the office
until after nine, working his ass off, and he definitely needed a drink
afterwards. So he could just as well go and have a few with his friends,
listening to Tadpole Anderson use those undisputable talents of his for the
greater good.
The bar was already crowded when he arrived, so it took him a moment to order a
drink and find his friends. Or, as it turned out, his friend – Kurt was sitting
alone by the table near the small stage. Clearly Cooper couldn't leave work at
a normal hour even for his own brother's debut. He would come eventually
though, Sebastian was sure of it.
He made his way towards the table, meandering among chatting people by the bar.
Blaine was on the stage with a guitar, looking quite dashing in all black and
charming the audience with the well-known words of Your Song. No one could deny
that his voice worked beautifully with the song, but that wasn't what pulled
Sebastian's attention most; it was the way the kid kept looking at Kurt. He
probably thought he was being subtle, but it was painfully obvious who Blaine
directed the song to. Sebastian was just going to poke a little fun at it as he
finally reached the table, but then he saw Kurt's expression – and paused,
intrigued.
Kurt hadn't yet noticed his arrival and his face was open in a way it rarely
was in public, soft-featured and reflecting something that definitely wasn't
hilarity, his eyes trained unblinking onstage. The moment Sebastian put his
glass on the table, the expression was gone and Kurt was back to his normal
self, smiling at him, but that few seconds was enough.
Something was brewing here.
"So it seems like the baby gay here wants to marry you and have your children?
Pretty, I'm glad I don't have a vagina. I would have to worry about accidental
pregnancy just from the amount of hormones radiating off that stage." He said
as he sat down, but the laugh Kurt gave him in return sounded only half-
sincere.
"He may have a bit of a crush."
"You think?" Sebastian made a face. "I get it though, you're a hot package. So,
have you tapped that ass already?"
"Seb!" Kurt might have played offended all he wanted, but there was still
something... off.
"What?"
"That would be kind of asking for trouble, don't you think?"
"Duh. I mean, I understand the temptation – young meat, the stamina of a
teenager... yum. But I hope you're smart enough to leave the fantasy in the
spank bank where it belongs, aren't you? He's barely legal, and Cooper's
brother, so it would be all kinds of inappropriate."
"What would be?" Coop was just slipping into the third chair.
"You sleeping with me." Sebastian never lost a beat, but cursed inwardly. His
investigation would have to wait then. And oh, would he investigate. He was
going to get to the bottom of this. Sebastian Smythe hated being left out of
the loop.
                                      ***
Cooper got home uncharacteristically early on Friday. It was barely five and
Blaine was only home because it was raining outside and Kurt was off fabric-
shopping, which he said he preferred to do by himself, to be fully focused. So
having his brother's company for the evening was nice, though dinner wasn't
ready yet.
But the moment Coop entered the room, Blaine could clearly see that something
was wrong. His brother looked worried and... guilty maybe? But why?
Coop leaned against the armchair opposite from the sofa Blaine was occupying.
"Bee? I'm really, really sorry."
He paused, as if searching for the right words, and the few seconds of silence
were enough for Blaine to think about all kinds of terrible things that could
have happened to make Cooper so distraught. Was it something about their
parents? Or Kurt? He felt his heartbeat quicken before Cooper continued.
"I have to go away for a week, on a business trip to Seattle. I'm so sorry to
leave you here alone, but with the audit in progress and my recent promotion, I
just can't refuse, not this time, and..."
"Oh." Blaine felt almost like giggling; it seemed so silly that Coop would fret
so much for such a silly reason. "It's okay. I'll be fine, I'm a big boy. And
Kurt’s here if I need anything. When do you have to go?"
Coop looked relieved, but frowned again at the question. "Actually, right about
now. No, okay, more like in an hour, but I only have time to shower and get
ready. Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself?"
"Yes. Go pack."
"But... maybe I could ask Kurt to take you in for the time I'm away? I don't
want you to get lonely."
Blaine rolled his eyes. He wasn't used to such overprotectiveness. If anything,
he'd learned long ago to expect the opposite.
"Coop, go pack. Call Kurt if it makes you feel better, but I'll be perfectly
fine. I love that you worry about me, but stop now. Go."
Cooper nodded and went to his bedroom, and it was only when he left for the
airport an hour later, when the apartment got still and quiet again, that
Blaine realized.
He was going to be by himself for the whole week. No need to come home before
Coop returned from work. No one asking what he'd been doing all day. No parent
figure whatsoever. He could be with Kurt until midnight without explaining, and
no one would blink an eye.
He wouldn't hope for much time together, not with Kurt deep in his creative
place again, and Blaine himself hired to play at The Tipsy Hippo three nights a
week. But even an hour or two more in the evenings, just to eat dinner together
without hurry, would be a gift.
He'd have to tell Kurt as soon as he called.
Which happened an hour later. Blaine didn't even have time to say anything
before Kurt trilled, his voice bright and excited.
"Okay, pack your stuff and come over. I can't let you be lonely in this big
empty apartment, can I? Coop called; you're staying with me so that I can keep
an eye on you. Or, you know, other body parts."
Blaine would swear he felt his jaw hit the carpet as the full meaning of what
he heard hit him. Hours with Kurt, days. Nights. He swallowed thickly, barely
able to believe it. "But... are you sure? I mean, you're busy designing and –"
But Kurt shushed him impatiently. "I can be busy while close to you, too. And
yes, I'm sure. Hurry up, I'm home and I want to kiss you."
Blaine had never packed his overnight bag faster.
He had to turn around and run back twice on his way over to Kurt's apartment.
The first time, halfway there, he remembered that he hadn't packed his
toiletries. Then, after getting out of the building again, he realized that
he'd left his keys in the lock.
When he finally reached his destination, breathless from the fast pace and with
his head full of steaming hot images, he was met with a scene he hadn't
expected. Kurt wasn't waiting for him in bed, in a rush to rip his clothes off
and make use of the time they were given. Instead, he was fully dressed in the
kitchen, humming happily and stirring something that smelled of fresh tomatoes
and basil. He turned to Blaine with a smile when he heard him enter.
"You're right on time," Kurt moved to kiss him softly and then turned back to
switch off the burner. "Go wash your hands, dinner is ready."
It was just a simple spaghetti Napoli, but it could have been ambrosia, it
tasted so perfect. Everythingwas perfect. This evening was theirs, as was the
night that would follow and the morning afterwards. He had to stop himself from
bouncing with excitement.
Eating dinner together tonight felt different from any other day. There was
possibility in the air, and a promise:we can savor every moment; there’s time.
"Do you like salmon? I thought we could bake some for dinner tomorrow." Kurt
swirled the last of his spaghetti onto the fork, and Blaine felt a warm wave of
happiness spread over him, up to the very ends of his fingers and toes. They'd
be making dinner together tomorrow.
"I love salmon." I love you.
Kurt smiled bright like the sun. "Great."
 
Blaine offered to wash up after dinner, not just because he was polite, but
because it felt so different from the usual chore it was. For the few short
moments by the sink, he let himself indulge in a fantasy of Kurt and himself in
two, three years – living together, coming home after work and classes to eat
dinner and spend the evening in, just the two of them. They'd divide up the
cooking and cleaning, and afterwards they could snuggle on the sofa to talk
about their days, maybe watch a movie or some show. Sometimes they'd fall
asleep in front of the TV, tangled together, only half-comfortable, but warm
and happy. They'd wake up to the end screen of the DVD, late at night, and drag
themselves to the bedroom, where –
"Have you watched Moulin Rouge?" Kurt's voice from the living room worked like
a wake-up call. Blaine looked at the last plate that he'd been trying to wash a
hole in, and blushed.
"Only about a hundred times. But I can always watch it again." He rinsed the
sink and dried his hands before going over to where Kurt was already seated on
the sofa. The similarity to what he'd just been thinking about was so striking
that it took Blaine's breath away.
"Great. That will work perfectly, then."
There was a bowl of red grapes on the coffee table. Not even ten minutes of the
movie had passed before Kurt started feeding them to Blaine, first with his
fingers, and a moment later, his lips. The little explosions of juice as they
bit into each one were a convenient prelude to kissing – wet, a little sticky,
their grins making it all crooked and perfect.
Kurt moved to straddle Blaine's thighs with the next grape in hand, but he
didn't offer it to him. Instead, he touched it with his lips, the pink of his
tongue darting out to lick a droplet of water from the shiny skin. When Kurt
slowly slid the grape into his mouth until his lips formed a perfect little O
around it, Blaine moaned and pulled him into a kiss so fast the fruit burst and
they were both splashed with the sweet juice.
It didn't matter. What mattered was kissing Kurt like the world was coming to
an end; feeling his strong fingers tangle into Blaine's hair; recognizing the
hard press of Kurt's erection and pressing against it. What mattered more was
that Blaine didn't even have to glance at the clock. Whatever time it was, it
didn't matter. They had all night.
Kurt drew back and away from him suddenly, the tantalizing sounds he was
letting out paused, and Blaine grumbled in protest. Kurt smiled, all flushed
and a little breathless.
"Wait. There's no hurry. Let's cool off a little."
Blaine wasn't sure why they needed to stop when they could simply enjoy each
other all they wanted, but he didn't argue. Having Kurt sit in his lap and sing
with the movie before he leaned back in a moment later was more than enough to
make him happy. Besides, he understood eventually. They were making out slowly
just for the pleasure of it, because they could – without watching the hour or
keeping an eye open for anyone approaching their car like he'd needed to with
Nathan. They didn't have to race to get off before life interrupted. And there
was a new kind of delight in it, a prolonged burn that Blaine hadn't known
before, but loved already.
 
The movie had ended a long while ago and they were still at it, the addicting
push-pull of getting close, but never close enough keeping them both on
desperate edge. Every nerve was buzzing in Blaine's body, his skin felt hot and
tingly at every point of contact and his lips were swollen and oversensitive
from hours of kissing. Kurt said no undressing, but there were hands on the
heated skin under shirts and lips sucking on necks and collarbones, and
occasional nails or teeth when everything felt like too much, not enough.
It was in a moment like that when Kurt gently disentangled himself from
Blaine's arms and got up in a smooth motion.
"Play for me?"
"Huh?" Blaine's brain was so far from Station: Thinking that it took a while to
process Kurt's request. When he did, his eyebrows shot up. "Really? Now?" It
sounded like a whine, and Kurt grinned.
"Yes. Could you? I have to work a little, but I'd love it if you played for me
while I draw."
"But –" What about sex, he wanted to ask, but bit his tongue. Kurt understood,
though.
"You can wait up for me or go to bed. If you want to sleep with me, of course?
I didn't mean to assume." Blaine nodded quickly, slightly dizzy from the mere
thought. Kurt seemed relieved. "Okay, so – whichever you prefer. And... hold
that thought, we'll come back to it later."
With a mischievous smile, Kurt slid one fingertip along the prominent bulge in
Blaine's pants.
Oh, Blaine would wait alright. No matter how long.
 
The last thing Blaine remembered before he woke up to Kurt's voice whispering
his name was a block of commercials when he'd decided to rest his eyes just a
bit. Now the TV was off, as were all the lights. Kurt's face was soft-edged and
beautiful in the darkness, and if Blaine's eyes would just stay open for any
reasonable amount of time, he could look at it forever. But his eyelids were
heavy, his brain sluggish and uncooperative, and his stumbling attempts at
acting awake only made Kurt chuckle. He managed to get up from the sofa and
walk to the bedroom, but the big comfy bed was summoning him and its call was
irresistible.
It took Kurt's amused prodding to even make Blaine shuck off his shirt and kick
off his pants, but then he flopped on the bed with a groan. His eyes, barely
open to begin with, closed again immediately and he'd be off to dreamland in no
time if it wasn't for the very welcome sensation of soft, warm skin against his
back.
The realization that he was in Kurt's bed and in Kurt's arms was almost enough
to start Blaine's brain again – almost. But it was definitely enough for his
body to react. Settling further back into Kurt's body revealed two more
interesting facts that made Blaine moan sleepily: Kurt was completely naked.
And completely hard.
There was a sharp intake of breath as Kurt's hips stuttered forward, his hand
sneaking over Blaine's belly to cup him, and Blaine wanted more. But he also
wanted to stay like this, limp and loose, not moving.
"Kurt," he whined. "Want you."
A hot tongue traced down the side of his neck. "I want you too. Can I take off
your boxers? You don't have to do anything, just let me take care of you."
"Please." He helped by moving his hips a little, but other than that he
remained boneless and relaxed on his side, his eyes closed. There was a
stunning kind of calm in him, his perpetually racing thoughts quiet for once
and the feeling of contentment cocooning him like a fluffy warm cloud.
A click of a cap sounded loud and familiar, and immediately there were
goosebumps on Blaine's arms, a shiver of anticipation running down his spine.
But whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this. Kurt's fingers just brushed over
the crack of his ass, barely there, but enough to tease a small whimper out of
Blaine's throat, and then they were between his thighs, wet and slippery with
lube – plenty of it. They danced around for a moment and then they were gone.
Another click, a heartbeat of silence, and then Kurt's whisper was in his ear
again.
"Don't freak out, Bee."
The nickname came right along with Kurt's well-slicked cock sliding against
Blaine's ass and no, he wasn't freaking out – he just wanted so bad. Letting
go, trusting Kurt completely came so easily for him, and he wasn't even
surprised. Everything was so easy with Kurt. Everything felt so right.
Kurt's cock barely brushed where Blaine ached to feel it, and then moved
further, slipping between his thighs. A bit of rearrangement followed until
Blaine's legs were pressed tightly together and Kurt's fingers encircled
Blaine's cock loosely, and oh, yeah, please. Every movement of Kurt's hips
shocked Blaine anew.
Kurt rocked slowly, in a gentle rhythm; there was nothing hurried or desperate
about it, and soon Blaine fell into a strange, wonderful state of half-sleep,
half-delight, held safely between Kurt's hands and his body, in the darkness
filled only with the whisper of sheets against their skin and their soft moans.
It felt like hours – hours in their own little world of desire and bliss, sweet
waves of pleasure mounting and licking at Blaine until he could take no more,
until he overflowed and melted into it, letting go of anything he still held
onto.
Sleep took him so fast he didn't even notice Kurt cleaning them up, but he must
have, because in the morning there was no sticky discomfort. He woke up warm
and well-rested, but the best part was Kurt's head on his shoulder and his arm
slung easily across his chest. Their legs were tangled together under the duvet
and there was bare skin everywhere, and really, waking up with another man for
the first time couldn't be more perfect than this.
                                      ***
Kurt nuzzled closer into the warmth of the body beside him. Memories of last
night danced through his head, making him smile against the smooth skin under
his cheek. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Blaine's face,
its expression soft and tender, and Kurt couldn't suppress a grin.
"Mm, morning. How long have you been awake?"
"A while. I've been enjoying the view." Blaine smoothed his fingers through
Kurt's undoubtedly messy hair. "And I've wanted to do this all along."
Kurt blushed –blushed! what was he, sixteen again? – and placed a kiss on
Blaine's shoulder, trying to hide his face. Blaine chuckled softly.
"You're adorable. So... how does it usually work?"
Kurt frowned and looked back up. "What do you mean?"
"Well... when a man stays over? I guess... I just wonder how you like your
mornings."
Blaine was clearly trying to sound nonchalant, but Kurt could see the tension
in his features. He shook his head.
"I don't know, Blaine. I hardly ever do the morning after thing. But this isn't
a one-night stand, is it? So let's not worry about the morning after
etiquette."
He started tracing abstract patterns on the heated skin of Blaine's stomach and
must have found a ticklish spot because Blaine giggled and squirmed under him.
Kurt's fingers slid lower, following the pronounced V of Blaine's hips and
ghosting over the coarse hair, and soon their bodies were interested in more
than just cuddling in a warm bed. It wasn't particularly comfortable though and
after a moment Kurt rolled away and sat up. He answered Blaine's confused look
with an apologetic smile.
"How about we take a short break? I don't know about you, but I really need to
pee and brush my teeth. And then we can come back here and pick up where we
left off?"
Blaine grinned. "I like your thinking."
When they met in bed again ten minutes later, both smelling like mint and soap,
and smiling bashfully, there was a moment of silence as they kneeled opposite
each other and just looked. They'd been naked together before and done things
that could definitely qualify as sex, but this felt different – more intimate,
more meaningful, simply more, and Kurt hesitated for a second. But then Blaine
leaned in and kissed him, and any doubts were gone. This felt right.
It didn't take long until they were both hard and pressing against each other,
desperate to be even closer. There was nothing subtle about their touches and
kisses this morning. It was pure, shameless want, and soon Blaine was panting,
arching under Kurt's weight, his nails digging into the flesh of Kurt's ass
with a sharp sting that only worked to spur him on.
 
Sometime later, after they'd gotten their breath back and cleaned themselves up
as much as they could without leaving the bed, Blaine surprised Kurt with a
bout of post-orgasmic sincerity, more open and direct than he'd probably be
otherwise.
"Mm, Kurt? Remember how you um... put your finger inside me, last week? I... I
really liked that. Do you think we could do that again?"
Kurt groaned, feigning exasperation. "I was just thinking about taking a nice
little nap. And now all I want is to watch you fall apart under my fingers,
thank you very much." He rolled his eyes and grinned. "Yes, of course we can do
that."
Blaine blushed, his voice low and rough. "How about now?"
Damn teenagers and their stamina...
But Kurt was far from opposed. His dick insisted it could easily keep up with a
seventeen-year-old, and well, it turned out to be right.
And the memory of Blaine as he was thrashing on the bed with two of Kurt's
fingers deep inside him, his hands fisted into the sheets and his voice raw
from moaning, would forever stay with Kurt as one of the most breathtaking
moments of his sex life. Blaine was completely out of control and so gorgeous
like this. A picture of pure primal beauty, that had Kurt biting his lip to
keep in words that wanted to fly out, but couldn't.
And when Blaine's body clenched and released, Kurt barely needed to touch
himself to climax right along with him, the tight heat around his fingers too
much to bear.
                                      ***
Blaine wasn't sure how he'd been able to live without sex before – without
Kurt's touch and his kisses, not knowing intimately the texture and taste of
his skin everywhere. The thought that just a month ago he hadn't known how much
there was to feel and discover was making his head spin whenever he thought
about it.
The week they had to themselves was the most sensual – and sexual – Blaine had
ever had. They finally had time, and plenty of it, to cherish every moment
together and languidly bask in each other's presence. Slow and sweet, desperate
and hungry for more, and every state in between – they were able to get enough
of each other at last; whenever they wanted, however they pleased. By the time
Friday rolled around Blaine was sated, relaxed and pretty much spent, feeling
more in love than ever.
If he was being honest, he'd hoped they'd have progressed to "real" sex by now
(Kurt had laughed and said they'd been having real sex all along, and to stop
using heteronormative definitions), but he definitely couldn't complain about
recent developments.
Kurt had introduced him to his drawer of sex toys.
One night early in the week, when Blaine was lying on his stomach with his ass
in the air, strung tight and desperate and shamelessly begging for cock, Kurt
reached to his bedside table only to come back with a slim, black vibrator. Its
head was a small sphere, barely bigger than a fingertip. Five more spheres,
each a bit larger, followed, together creating a phallic shape. By the time the
third segment was inside him, Blaine didn't know what to do with himself, his
body buzzing with so much stimuli he was sure he was going to explode.
But Kurt made sure he couldn't. He fucked Blaine slowly with the toy until he
took in the whole length, the burning sensation when the last segments moved in
and out of him just making him more desperate, more certain that he loved this.
Only then did Kurt speed up the movements of his hand and when he switched on
the vibration, Blaine fell apart immediately, with an intensity he didn't
expect.
 
Of course, sex was hardly the only thing on their minds. It was there, it was
frequent, but there was also the rest of normal, everyday life. Kurt mostly
worked from home all week, disappearing into his workroom for hours at a time
to sew samples of his new designs. Blaine started his regular performances on
Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, so he was spending a lot of time practicing
and perfecting his setlists. They cooked and ate together, met in between rooms
to kiss or talk about something one of them had just thought about. They had
quiet evenings watching movies and, sometimes making out until they decided
they should just switch off the TV and focus on each other.
The domesticity of it all settled like a thick fuzzy blanket around Blaine's
heart.
But his favorite part, one he hadn't considered when he'd fantasized about
living with a boyfriend one day, was falling asleep and waking up together. He
hadn't slept with anyone since he was a kid, and even then it had only happened
when he'd had a bad dream and sneaked into Cooper's room sometimes. He had no
idea how safe and happy he would feel gathered into Kurt's embrace, listening
to his strong heartbeat and his breath evening out as he was falling asleep.
Every night Blaine tried to be the last one to drift to sleep, and every
morning he woke up first, collecting those memories and preserving them deep in
his heart to remember during the long months of separation.
Because there was no way to ignore it: it was August already. They had about
three weeks left before they would have to part for almost a year. But Blaine
was optimistic – he was a good student, and if he did his best with college
applications and practical exams, he should have no trouble getting into at
least one of his chosen New York schools. And he and Kurt – they would be fine.
They had to be. He could wait a year if living with Kurt one day in the future
was his reward.
They'd be fine.
Right?
***** Chapter 14 *****
Kurt was careful not to let himself think.
Thinking was a very bad idea during this way too short, perfect week. If he let
himself think, Kurt wouldn't be able to enjoy the quiet domesticity that filled
him with a calm he hadn't thought he'd feel again since James moved out. He
wouldn't simply appreciate each of the breathtaking moments of intimacy or take
as much as he could from them while they lasted.
But even as he burned in Blaine's hands or melted under his lips, a quiet voice
in his head was always telling him not to forget that it wouldn't last. It
couldn't. Not in their situation, not like this – something would crash, sooner
or later.
Kurt did his best to ignore that voice.
He was a fairly light sleeper, which was why he usually preferred to sleep
alone, but Blaine turned out to be comfortably cuddly, yet not clingy enough to
hog too much space. Kurt didn't mind sleeping with him, not in the slightest.
Even though he talked in his sleep.
Usually it was just barely comprehensive mumbling that sometimes turned into
random words and phrases. But twice during that week, Kurt heard things that
caused him to wake up fully, and made him lay awake for long hours afterwards
thinking, even when Blaine was peacefully asleep in his arms again.
The first time, it was because Blaine cried in his sleep, apologizing over and
over again for some unknown mistakes and pleading for forgiveness. It nearly
broke Kurt's heart when he heard who Blaine was talking to.
No one should feel that much anguish and pain when thinking of their own
father.
The second time, Blaine only said one sentence, with a bright smile on his
face, but Kurt's heart clenched just as much.
"I love you so much, Kurt – so much."
Kurt didn't get back to sleep until dawn. It was impossible not to think then,
and thinking hurt.
Overall, their week was sort of perfect. There was only one hitch.
On Wednesday, they had just finished a hot, desperate round of morning sex
(okay, it was noon. A nooner then. And god, Blaine took to the toys so
beautifully, Kurt wanted to throw them aside and take their place, but not yet.
Not yet) when there was a knock on the door. Blaine was dead to the world at
this point, having fallen asleep right after his second orgasm, so Kurt covered
him tenderly, grabbed his yoga pants and went to see about the unexpected
visitor, quietly closing the door behind him. When he saw who was at the door,
he regretted not pretending he wasn't home.
"Hi Kurrrrt. Looking good today." Sebastian grinned, handing him a big brown
bag with a Starbucks logo. "I have a long lunch hour today so I decided to
visit you. We are in serious need of catching up, my dear." He leaned in and
stole a quick kiss from Kurt's lips, the way he usually did; except this time
it suddenly felt like too much, too forward, unwelcome.
"Seb, it's not a good moment. I'm... busy."
Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows and grinned lecherously. "Ooh, another hookup?
And he's still here? Wow, must be a good one if he held your attention long
enough to stay the night."
Kurt should have foreseen his friend's next move, he'd known him long enough,
but he was still slow from too little sleep and amazing amounts of excellent
sex.
Sebastian ducked under Kurt's arm and went right for the bedroom door, opening
it before Kurt had a chance to do anything. He got pushed away and smacked up
the head the next instant, but the damage was done. He'd have to be blind not
to recognize the dark curls on Kurt's pillow; and Sebastian was far from blind.
In fact, he was one of the most sharp-eyed people Kurt had ever met.
Kurt closed the bedroom door again and pulled Seb away, not even trying to
think of explanations or cover the truth. It wouldn't work anyway, Sebastian
could see right through him when he wanted. At this point Kurt only prayed for
Blaine not to wake up before he did damage control. Adding him to the mix would
be too much for his not-yet-caffeinated self.
When they got to the kitchen, Kurt busied himself washing the two wine glasses
left in the sink last night. Seb was silent behind him, waiting for him to
speak first. All too soon, the glasses were clean and dry, and Kurt turned to
face his friend.
"Whatever you want to say, I've already said it to myself. So don't waste your
breath."
Sebastian shook his head, incredulous. "Oh man. You're asking for trouble, you
know that?"
Kurt shrugged. Of course he knew. He'd known all along. It still didn't stop
him.
Sebastian opened the Starbucks' bag forgotten on the counter and took out
coffee cups and salad containers. Without a word, they settled at the table to
eat.  Five minutes passed before Sebastian spoke again, his voice softer and
more serious than Kurt had heard it in a very long time.
"Kurt... Is he worth it? Breaking Cooper's trust, losing his friendship?"
Kurt didn't answer, just kept on digging in the barely touched salad with his
fork. It was unfair to ask him that. How could he compare the worth of his
long-time friendship versus what he'd found in Blaine? Why did he have to
compare? Or choose? Why did Sebastian come here today, bringing the reality
Kurt had been trying so hard to ignore in the idyll of the previous weeks?
He didn't look in Seb's eyes when he asked. "Will you –"
Sebastian didn't let him finish. "I won't tell him, obviously, don't even ask.
But he will learn sooner or later. You two aren't exactly subtle, you know.
I've suspected for some time there's something brewing there. And I won't lie
for you, Kurt, if Coop asks. I think it's stupid, what you're doing – and just
for a piece of hot young ass. I'd say you should break it off as soon as you
can, before anyone gets hurt, but it's your life and your choices. I just hope
it doesn't ruin the best two relationships I've had in my life since my nanny
died." He paused and sighed. "I really hope you know what you're doing, Kurt."
There wasn't much to say after that. Any attempt to change the topic fell flat,
and soon Sebastian looked at his watch and got up.
"Okay, I'll be going. But Kurt... think about it, okay?"
Kurt nodded, even if thinking was the last thing he wanted to do. When the door
closed behind Sebastian he washed his face with cold water to hold in the tears
that were trying to escape, and promised himself he'd think later. After Cooper
came back. Just a few more carefree days with Blaine's bright eyes and his
joyful laughter.
He would be an adult, he would think and plan and decide then. But not yet.
 
On Friday afternoon Blaine moved back home. It didn't even take the whole
evening for Kurt to realize what the discomfort he felt building under his skin
was. He paused over the stir-fry he was making, astonished, when he recognized
it: he felt lonely. Well that was new...
He liked living alone. He enjoyed the freedom of not having to take another
person's needs and plans into account, of eating, sleeping and working whenever
he felt like it. He was a lone wolf, as he always joked whenever anyone asked
him about serious relationships.
Which didn't really mean anything, if he was honest.
True, he had a strong independent streak and the need to adjust to someone
else's lifestyle or rhythm put him on edge. But there were so many things he
loved about sharing space with a person he... cared about. The light, silly
conversations while doing everyday things; brushing against each other in
passing; the wordless smiles across the room just because; preparing and eating
meals together. The warmth of another person close by, when he needed it;
someone to care for, who cared back. Someone to remind him each and every day
that he mattered; that he was needed.
The first twenty four hours after Blaine had left were full of reminders –
words that fell into the silence of the apartment because Kurt had forgotten
there was no one to talk to; two cups of coffee poured in his distraction; a
good morning smile towards an empty pillow. Every time, he caught himself with
a sudden squeeze in his chest, shook his head and went on with his day. On
Saturday afternoon, he finally gave up pretending. It was time to think about
this mess. He curled in the window seat with a glass of wine, watching
raindrops blurring the lights of the city, and let his mind go there at last.
Blaine was, without a doubt, important to him; someone Kurt sincerely cared
about. Merely thinking the boy's name was enough to cause a warm wave of
affection to run through his body, and not just because of the sexual
experiences they'd shared.
But Blaine was also just a boy; not even eighteen yet, and the baby brother of
Kurt's best friend. Both of these facts should be enough to ban even thinking
about him that way from Kurt's mind.
Well, he'd never been good at the should game.
But the uncomfortable truth was that his relationship with Blaine, whatever
he'd call it, had a potential to be a disaster. It wouldn't last, not with the
distance and the age difference. He couldn't let himself get too invested. He'd
had his heart broken too many times to let it happen again – and it would
happen. For Blaine, it was just a phase he'd outgrow soon enough, and Kurt
would be left behind – which was fine, really. If he didn't let himself fall
too deep.
And then, there was Cooper. Sebastian was right, secrets like this were nearly
impossible to keep forever and even if it didn't come out before Blaine left,
it would most likely slip out at some point, one way or another. But what did
it change if they broke it off now? The relationship happened; it had
beenhappening. The secret was already there.
What would it do to their friendship if (more like when) Coop learned about
Kurt and Blaine? What would it do to Blaine if Kurt told him they were over?
How bad would it all be for Kurt himself?
The last one was easy: definitely not good. No matter the outcome, he'd always
be the one in the middle, and there was no way he'd come out of this unharmed.
But he started this, and he'd take it like a man. He'd survive Blaine pulling
away eventually; he'd endure Cooper's reaction when he found out about them.
What he couldn't do was break Blaine's heart.
Calmer now that he knew where he stood, Kurt drank the rest of his wine and
stretched just as his phone blared, announcing an incoming call from Cooper.
 
Kurt should have known that accepting an invitation to have drinks at Cooper's
was a bad idea tonight. All the thinking about his relationship with Blaine
made his lips tingle at the memory of their kisses. He was acutely aware of the
bruises blossoming on his shoulders where just yesterday Blaine gripped him
hard while coming deep down his throat – pushed against the front door, all
ready to leave. With the sounds of Blaine's delight still alive in Kurt's ears
and the memory of his smooth skin so fresh on his fingertips, he shouldn't have
gone anywhere near Cooper.
Really, what had he been thinking?
He was a good actor, and so was Blaine, but their bodies... well, they were
still drugged stupid on endorphins. And sitting next to Blaine on the sofa –
close, but not too close – felt good and natural and nice. Too nice, in fact.
Over wine and chatting, with Blaine's smile so close and the world feeling all
friendly and wonderful, Kurt let the lull of the evening get him into the
feeling of false safety.
So when Cooper and Sebastian started talking financial crimes, a topic that
quickly bored both him and Blaine, they tuned them out and focused on their own
conversation – about Kurt's designs, and the new show the theater would be
preparing soon, and ideas for improving Blaine's setlist. Blaine was joking
about some suggestive songs he could put in there, and they were laughing.
Blaine's cheeks were flushed from the wine, his pupils blown, and he was so
freaking beautiful with a few loose curls escaping and tickling his smooth
forehead, and Kurt didn't think. He reached out and carded his fingers through
Blaine's hair, smoothing it back into place, and Blaine, clearly just as
oblivious about where they were, pressed his cheek into Kurt's hand, his eyes
closing in pleasure.
Sudden silence in the background was like explosion.
 
Cooper sounded merely confused at first, but as his brain was quickly
connecting the pieces, shock and anger started to bleed in.
"Um, Kurt, what the hell was that? Blaine?" They were both silent, roughly
shaken from their nice little world only to belatedly realize what happened.
"What the fuck are you... Are you guys sleeping together?"
Neither of them said anything, and it was answer enough. Their guilt was
probably written all over their faces too, if the color rising rapidly in
Cooper's cheeks was any indication. In a passing thought, Kurt wondered if this
shade of red would look better if Cooper's t-shirt wasn't army green.
Coop seemed lost for words for a moment, but shook out of it soon enough, his
voice coming out sharp and snappy, slightly hysterical.
"Blaine, go to your room."
"I'm not a child!" Blaine's voice trembled slightly, but he jutted his bottom
lip out just-so, a stubborn teenager peeking through the mask of the composed
young man.
"Go to your room, now!"
"No." Blaine was shaking. Kurt took his hand in a silent reminder that he
wasn't alone, not this time.
That seemed to push Cooper even more. Hands fisted in his hair as if he was
trying to pull it out in tufts, he faced Kurt now.
"How could you, Kurt? I trusted you! I don't care how many fuck toys you have,
you can whore yourself out all you want, but this is my brother for fuck's
sake! And Blaine? You really thought it was a good idea?"
Blaine let out an indignant "Hey!", but Kurt squeezed his hand to shush him. He
looked Cooper square in the eyes.
"Leave him out of this. You want to blame somebody, blame me." The calm was
mostly fake, and Kurt was glad to see that his skills were still there despite
the lack of practice.
"Of course I blame you!" Coop nearly spluttered. "Have you forgotten what it
means to care? Is every man just a cheap fuck for you now?"
"No. Blaine, for one, isn't."
Cooper didn't look convinced.
"Oh really. So what is he, exactly? A lover? A fling?"
"Try a boyfriend."
Blaine inhaled sharply by his side and Kurt realized this was the first time he
had named what was between them. He didn't have a chance to look at him,
however, because the word only seemed to make Coop more furious. His voice was
like ice.
"Riiiight. Kurt, it's one thing to seduce the kid, and quite another to lead
him on."
"You think I'm leading him on?" Fine. Kurt could be cold too.
"I think you're playing with his heart and I won't let you do this to him."
Blaine's voice was back now, stronger than before as he protested. "Hey! Will
anyone listen to me, maybe?"
Cooper wouldn't have it though. "Quiet, Blaine. I'll talk to you later."
"No. I'm right here. Talk to me now."
"Fine." Coop stared down at him. "You're grounded. You can go to the gym and to
your performances, that's all. If you try to meet with Kurt behind my back,
you're off to Ohio on the next plane."
Blaine's face went white. "You're not serious."
"I am deadly serious. I'm your guardian while you're here, and you've seriously
broken my trust. Now go to your room. Kurt is leaving."
So that was it. Cooper was too angry to reason with him now; there was nothing
more that could be done tonight. Kurt turned to hug Blaine, pretending not to
hear the way Coop hissed in anger. He kissed Blaine's temple and whispered in
his ear. "He'll come to his senses. It'll be fine. Text me."
Then he got up and looked at his friend. "You're blowing this out of
proportion, but I understand and I'm sorry. No, not for my relationship with
Blaine – for the fact that I didn't tell you. But I guess you can see why I
didn't. Call me when you're ready to talk sensibly, okay?"
Before turning to go, Kurt shot Sebastian a pleading glance, and was rewarded
with a small nod. I've got him, it meant, and it was just what he hoped for. He
knew Coop wouldn't hurt Blaine, but he was a little drunk and very angry, and
it was a combination that always made him prone to saying vicious things that
cut deep and cruel, even if he never really meant them. Seb's level-headed
influence would keep him in check.
The gravity of their situation hit Kurt on his way home, when the rest of the
adrenaline rush left him. What if they never recovered from this? What if
Cooper stood by his decision and sent Blaine home? What if –
No, no use worrying about it now, unless he wanted to drive himself crazy. He'd
just text Blaine and hope for the best.
                                      ***
As soon as the door closed behind Kurt, Blaine jumped from the sofa. His face
was screwed up in anger and his eyes tear-filled as he glared at Cooper.
"You don't even care that I love him, do you?"
Cooper spluttered. "You don't love him! What do you even know about love?
You're just a kid!"
Blaine marched to his room and slammed the door, yelling "Fuck you! You're just
like father!". Before Cooper could yell back something suitably cutting –
because that was hitting below the belt, mister! – he heard a deep sigh behind
his back and turned, surprised. He'd completely forgotten that Sebastian was
still there, sitting calmly in an armchair, playing with his tumbler of Scotch.
"He's not, though, you know." He said conversationally, and Cooper shook his
head, losing his momentum.
"What?"
"He's not a kid anymore. You may see him like one, but he's almost eighteen.
That's not childhood. It's only natural for him to fall in love and have sex."
Cooper bristled. "Not with older guys!"
Sebastian shrugged. "Older, younger... what's the difference? If he wants to go
out and have sex, he will. Don't you think it's better than if he went to a
random bar and hooked up, like plenty of people his age? Younger, even?"
"But Kurt –" God, even Kurt's name tasted bitter on his tongue now. How could
he?
Seb didn't seem to share his sentiment.
"Kurt's a good guy, Cooper. You can't say you don't know that. Sure, he's had
his share of men, but he's always careful. I'd say if Blaine wanted to try sex,
Kurt was one of the safest choices."
Great. All of his friends were dicks.
"Why are you defending him?"
"I'm not. I'm just saying that it already happened, you can't change that. You
can only deal with it, one way or another. And personally, I'd say the way
you've chosen is one of the worst. You'll only alienate them, and then you'll
regret it. You know how you get, all marshmallowy after exploding all over
people."
Cooper gritted his teeth. "Not this time."
"Uh-huh. Give it a day."
Cooper shook his head defiantly, but deep down, he knew Seb was right. His
anger always burnt fast, intense, but short. More often than not, he ended up
apologizing for things he said or did in a rage. He'd even had to pay for a few
destroyed possessions (and one window) when he was younger. He sat down on the
edge of the sofa now, suddenly tired.
"I just don't want him to get hurt..."
Sebastian hummed, understanding. "But he will, time and again. There's always
hurt, that's part of growing up. It hurts many times before you get it right,
you know that. You can't protect him from this. Let him make his choices, even
if they're mistakes."
They sat in silence for a while, until Cooper hazarded a guess.
"You knew about them, didn't you?"
"Just for a few days."
It should make him mad at Seb, too, but he had no energy left.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm not your mole, Coop. But let me tell you something: Kurt really does care.
I know how he acts with a hookup, and that's not what this is. I'm not saying
they're gonna marry and have babies, but he wouldn't hurt your brother. He
cares about him too much."
Another long moment of silence followed, and all Cooper wanted now was sleep.
His head hurt.
"Okay, go away. I've had enough."
Sebastian sipped his whiskey. He didn't look like he was going to move anytime
soon.
"Feel free to go to bed. I'll just sit here and enjoy this fine liquor before I
go. Don't worry, I'll let myself out."
Really, why did he insist to be friends with such dicks?
Cooper shook his head, exhausted, and slumped to his bedroom. He'd have to
think about what it said about him. Just, tomorrow. Yes. Definitely tomorrow.
***** Chapter 15 *****
After the whole ordeal of that Saturday evening, Blaine felt many things.
Shaken. Terrified of losing Kurt if they weren't allowed to see each other, or
if Cooper decided he wouldn't deal with the burden he was anymore. Furious at
himself for letting himself believe that his brother would accept him no matter
what, and for not finding a way to tell him earlier, somehow.
But at the same time, he felt kind of... happy.
Kurt called him his boyfriend. Kurt defended him; said he wouldn't apologize
for loving him.
Well, okay, he didn't use the actual word, but he had fought for him, for them;
and he had stayed there, strong and sure, holding Blaine's hand, risking the
friendship that was so important to him. All for Blaine.
It had to be love, right?
Still, when he got a text barely fifteen minutes after Kurt had left, Blaine
had a strong sense of déjà vu that made his blood run cold. This was it. This
was Kurt telling him that he was sorry, that Blaine wasn't worth the trouble
after all, right? He looked at the phone lying on his desk for a full five
minutes before he dared to reach for it and read the text, only to find out it
was nothing of the kind. Kurt was just asking if everything was alright, if
Cooper had calmed down. How Blaine felt.
After Blaine answered that he was fine, that he would be okay – he realized he
was more than that. He was fantastic, in spite of everything. He felt safe and
cared for.
The next few days were long, tense and lonely. Even his Sunday performance at
the Hippo was moved for another day because of some local celebrity playing
that night. But it was okay, Blaine had a ton of books waiting on his Kindle,
and while he couldn't go see Kurt, they were texting all the time.
It wasn't like he hadn't known loneliness before, and staying in his room to
avoid other family members was nothing new, either. He just hoped the situation
would get resolved before his stay in New York came to an end.
                                      ***
Kurt sewed.
Ever since coming home that Saturday night, he either sewed or texted, only
taking the barest  minimum of time to sleep. Not enough to dream, though,
because his mind kept coming up with pictures and fantasies that were too much
if he couldn't touch and hold Blaine afterwards.
He thought he might be going a little crazy; then he refused to think. So he
sewed.
Soon, all the samples he'd planned for his private designs were ready – work
he’d expected to take at least a week done in just over two days – and damn,
did they look good.
On Tuesday, in a burst of boldness that might have come from exhaustion, he e-
mailed a presentation of the collection to a fashion house he'd always dreamt
of working for. He immediately felt stupid for doing so – it was like shooting
for the moon – but it was done. Promptly forcing himself not to freak out about
it, he went to prepare the perfect outfit instead. It was time to go to the
theater and start planning costumes for the new play. And later, it was
Blaine's performance night at the Hippo. Cooper could say whatever he wanted,
but Kurt would be there, even if they didn't get to talk.
                                      ***
It took Cooper three days to get to the point of apologizing.
Truth be told, he didn't need three days. He didn't even need one. Mere hours
after his explosion – after he'd heard the front door click quietly shut behind
Sebastian; after the incessant buzzing of incoming texts in Blaine's room had
given way to soft, sleepy snuffling – Cooper was lying in bed, still awake.
Blaine's angry words were running through his head, his face burning with the
hard truth they carried. Yes, he'd reacted just like their father would –
judging, forbidding, without a pause to listen. It was something he'd always
promised himself he wouldn't do, because he knew all too well how much it hurt.
And yet – years of programming were still there, ready to kick in.
He felt too ashamed to talk to his brother the next day, so he didn't. It was
easy enough, considering how Blaine avoided him all day, but the only thing it
got him was another night of too little sleep and too much thinking. Lying in
the unforgiving darkness, Cooper recalled the soft lilt of Kurt's voice when
he'd said boyfriend, and the bright joy blossoming on Blaine's face when he'd
heard it. He remembered Kurt's fierce defense of Blaine. He thought long and
hard about his best friend and his little brother; how similar they were, how
much good they could give each other. How lonely Kurt was and how desperately
Blaine needed true, unwavering acceptance, this all-encompassing care that Kurt
was more than capable of providing.
And Blaine was almost eighteen, for fuck's sake. At eighteen, Cooper had
already been sexually active for two years, and with no less than three
girlfriends. Or was it four? Sure, none of them had been nearing thirty, but
did that make it any better? Considering some of the choices they'd made,
Cooper had to admit that Kurt was definitely not the worst option. In fact, he
was almost certainly better and safer for Blaine than many teenagers would have
been. Plus, what really counted – Blaine was in love with him. He'd said so
himself, and Cooper felt he knew his brother well enough to be aware that he
wouldn't say that lightly. He couldn't be sure if Kurt felt the same, but Seb
was right – he clearly felt something.
On Monday evening, fed up with the insomnia and how distracted he'd been all
day at work, Cooper tried to talk with Blaine. But he must have done it wrong
because with one look at Cooper's face, his brother excused himself back to his
room, claiming he needed to practice his tomorrow's set at the Hippo. Okay, so
maybe starting with "So are we going to talk about you and Kurt?" was not the
best intro.
Eventually, it was the thought of Blaine's performance night that gave Cooper
an idea.
On Tuesday, he made sure to come home early, with takeout from Blaine's
favorite Chinese place. They ate in silence, both pretending to watch whatever
rerun was on TV, until Cooper took the remote and muted it. He spoke without
giving Blaine a chance to walk out again.
"How long have you two been... together?"
Blaine shrugged, his eyes still on his plate.
"Depends on how you define being together. Our first official date was the
premiere."
Cooper did quick math. So, over three weeks, if he was right. With how often
the two of them had been seeing each other, Kurt would have gotten bored long
ago if it was just sex. He always did.
"And... does he make you happy? Does he... take care of you? I mean, not just
sexually?"
Blaine looked up at him with wide eyes, chopsticks frozen halfway to his mouth,
dripping rice. He swallowed hurriedly and nodded.
"Yes. He does. And I'm so happy with him, Coop, you wouldn't believe." His eyes
were big and so earnest, no hesitation, nothing hidden.
Cooper nodded and went to put his empty plate in the sink. They didn't speak
about it anymore before going to the bar, though Blaine kept looking at him
hopefully.
Kurt was already there with a glass of wine, his expression defiant, and Cooper
just nodded hello and sat opposite him as if nothing happened. A moment later,
Sebastian arrived as if summoned. He could never resist good drama, and after
Saturday night he must have been drawn here like a moth to the flame. The three
of them didn't talk and it was proof of how solid their friendship was that
even in these circumstances the silence didn't feel uncomfortable.
An hour into Blaine's set, Cooper got up quietly and went to the bar to find
Tyler, the owner of the Hippo. He had no trouble getting permission for the
plan he'd hatched. They discussed the details, Tyler wrote down the song title
for the karaoke machine, and then it was only a matter of time.
At eleven, Blaine went off the stage and over to their table, sweaty and tired,
but beaming happily like he always did after a performance. The only unoccupied
chair was right next to Kurt, and Cooper could see the challenge in Kurt's eyes
when he pulled it out for Blaine. Everyone seemed to expect Cooper to say
something, but he just got up and moved towards the stage, hoping his silence
wouldn't be read as hostile. When he looked at them, however, Kurt and Blaine
were already huddled together, talking animatedly and glancing at him, unsure
what was going on.
Cooper took the microphone from its stand and tapped it to see if it was on. He
hadn't prepared any speech, choosing to go with his gut, so now he just looked
straight towards the three people that he considered his closest family and
spoke right from his heart.
"Please excuse me for taking over the stage for just a moment. I may not be as
talented as tonight's amazing artist – who is my own little brother, may I add
– but I have something that I need to say; a toast to three people that are
very dear to me, and a song that is an apology. I hope I'll be able to sing
even half as good as Blaine, but even if I don't, please believe that it's
heartfelt."
He nodded towards Tyler, who nodded back, and the next instant music filled the
air and Cooper was singing,_fierce_and_open_and_sincere.
                        We could just go home right now
                        Or maybe we could stick around
                       For just one more drink, oh yeah
                            Get another bottle out
                             Let’s shoot the shit
                                 Sit back down
                       For just one more drink, oh yeah
                                        
                         Here's to us, here's to love
                        All the times that we fucked up
                         Here's to you, fill the glass
                   Cause the last few days have kicked my ass
                  So let’s give 'em hell, wish everybody well
                                  Here's to us
                                  Here's to us
The song went on, and all along, Cooper looked directly at his table, hoping
they understood. And they did, he could see it in Blaine's teary eyes and
Kurt's crooked smile as he nodded and took his boyfriend's hand. Halfway
through the song, Tyler made a surprise appearance, carrying a tray with drinks
for them – On the house, Cooper could see him say, and the three toasted
towards the stage, Blaine clutching Kurt's free hand tightly.
The moment Cooper returned to the table, Blaine and Kurt were on him
immediately and for a moment there were only hugs and chaotic words and
Blaine's overwhelmed sniffles. When they finally sat back down and people
stopped staring – not that they were staring too much, it was New York, after
all, people were used to weirder shit happening – Cooper put on a stern face
and pointed towards the couple seated opposite him.
"Okay, obligatory older brother talk, kids. Kurt: if you hurt him, I'm gonna
kick your ass, understood?" Kurt nodded, his expression solemn like a promise,
and Cooper looked at Blaine in turn. "Bee. You can sleep at Kurt's every now
and then if you two want, but let's not make it a habit, okay? And please don't
make me think about what you're doing there."
"Deal."
"Good. Now, I need a drink."
                                      ***
By the time they left The Tipsy Hippo an hour later, the worst of the shock
caused by the turn of events had worn off, but Blaine was still dazed and not
quite able to believe that yes, Cooper had basically given them his blessing.
Kurt opening the bar door for him and taking Blaine's hand, simple as that,
with his brother standing right next to them, took Blaine's breath away for a
second. They could do this now. No more hiding. No more pretending they were
nothing more than friends.
Sebastian took a cab home while the three of them walked in silence, the city
hushed around them, and in front of of Kurt's apartment building, Cooper gave
Blaine one more shock of the night.
Instead of turning away to give the two of them a bit of privacy for a
goodnight kiss, he sighed and shook his head.
"Let's pretend that I'm actually an awesome brother and not just tired of you
tapping out text messages half the night. Go, you two. Scram. I know you want
to. See you tomorrow night for dinner."
And just like that, Cooper turned and walked away, leaving the two of them
alone and speechless.
 
"God I missed you. Why did I miss you so much after only three days?" Kurt's
lips were hard on his, feverish and insatiable. The question sounded like Kurt
hadn't meant to let it out at all, so Blaine let it go, focused on showing how
much he missed Kurt.
It hadn't even taken them twenty minutes to shower – together, of course, they
could only let go of each other long enough to undress in a hurry – and get to
bed, naked and kissing, touching everywhere they could reach, which was, well,
everywhere, but Blaine felt as if no matter what he did, he couldn't get close
enough. After the three days of separation, the anxiety and the emotional
rollercoaster of tonight, he needed Kurt more than ever. Closer, harder, in and
around him.
"Fuck me. Kurt, please fuck me."
Kurt's shaky inhalation and the way his eyes darkened instantly fed Blaine's
hope for the few long seconds until he heard a breathless "Okay", and then
there were more hands and lips and the hot pressure of bodies, and Kurt already
had two fingers inside him when it hit Blaine like a freight train.
He must have stiffened because the delicious friction of Kurt's fingers stilled
immediately and then his hand moved away to rest on Blaine's hip.
"What's wrong?"
Kurt's eyes were much more focused already, concerned, and Blaine managed to
twist away from him and hide his face in a pillow before the hysterical giggle
tore from his throat. He wanted to explain, he really did, but the volatile
mixture of mortification and arousal still burning in his body made him pretty
incoherent as he laughed and laughed, unable to stop, laughed until he cried
and gasped for air. Finally, he let go of the pillow and looked back at Kurt,
who was giving him a pretty impressive bitchface by then.
"I'm sorry, I just... I realized that Cooper is perfectly aware that we're here
now, and that we're most likely having sex, and the thought of my brother
knowing and maybe thinking about it right now, and after tonight and the last
few days and –"
Understanding dawned on Kurt's face and he actually blushed a little, reaching
for the discarded comforter to cover them both as if merely thinking about
Cooper was able to summon him here.
"Okay, talk about a mood killer."
"Yeah." Blaine wiped the residual tears from his eyes and sighed. "Damn, and I
really want you. I'm sorry, forget I said anything, I bet I can get over it."
Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.
"Now that you've planted the picture in my head? No way. No matter how hot you
are and how much I missed you, I'm not doing anything more than this to you
tonight."
He slid closer, close enough to put his head on Blaine's shoulder and his arm
around his waist. A few seconds later, he added a leg between Blaine's, and
Blaine sighed blissfully.
"Mm, I like this. Do I get a goodnight kiss?"
Kurt raised his head and planted a quick, soft peck on his cheek. Blaine
chuckled. "Okay, I deserved that."
"So we just sleep?"
"We just sleep." 
 
Blaine slept fitfully that night, his dreams dark and vaguely threatening so
that he snapped awake time and again to make sure Kurt was really still beside
him, warm and pressed into his back in the safe cocoon of the comforter. The
weight of Kurt's body against his and the slow whisper of his breathing against
his neck lulled Blaine back to sleep quickly every time, only to make him
escape some unknown threats in his dreams again.
When the morning finally came, Blaine opened his eyes to find Kurt awake and
watching him with a tender smile.
"Hi, you. You look tired." Kurt's fingers were tracing patterns on Blaine's
chest, light and innocent, but the caress sent gentle tendrils of arousal down
his belly anyway. He blinked, trying to get the sand from under his eyelids. 
"Mm, bad dreams."
"Oh?" Kurt leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips. "Anything I can help you
forget about?"
His touches were losing the pretense of innocence now, tracing lower and lower
until his fingers danced light, barely-there just over Blaine's morning
erection. He groaned and pressed upward into the cradle of Kurt's hand.
"Yes, please. Please do."
Kurt shifted his weight to rest most of it over Blaine, their hips aligning
with some very welcome friction, and they both gasped. Kurt dropped his lips to
Blaine's neck in a teasing, shiver-inducing graze of teeth. Blaine's hips shot
up again, swift and demanding, and Kurt hummed into his skin and intertwined
their fingers on both sides of Blaine's head before whispering into his ear in
a hot puff of air.
"Would you mind if I gave you a hickey? We never could before, and suddenly I
really, really want to."
Blaine was moaning his assent before Kurt even stopped talking, the idea to be
marked as Kurt's, as belonging, so hot that he suddenly found himself
ridiculously close to embarrassing himself. But Kurt was right with him there,
it seemed. His lips more demanding now, sucking deeply on a point halfway down
the side of Blaine's neck where he knew damn well Blaine was insanely
sensitive, Kurt worked his hips down and against him. It was too dry and too
fast, but neither of them seemed to mind. Kurt's muffled whimpers and Blaine's
own desperate moans almost drowned the additional sound of Blaine’s cellphone
that suddenly came on with Cooper's very special ringtone.
Almost, but not quite. And the sound of Cooper's voice, singing "I'm Sexy and I
Know It", was the last thing either of them wanted to hear in the bedroom.
Kurt rolled off him with a groan, Blaine's body trying to follow him, suddenly
cold and left too close to the edge without a warning, but Kurt waved him away.
"Answer the damn thing, Blaine. Fuck, I'm gonna have to do something very
ungentlemanly to him."
Blaine very much wanted to call Coop out for being a cockblock when he
answered, but he didn't quite dare. He did kind of depend on him while here,
after all. Instead, he did his best not to sound as if he'd just been having
sex and tried to finish the conversation as fast as possible. Kurt was watching
him, sprawled out on his stomach, long lines of his body and the beautiful
curve of his ass too hard to ignore.
"So? What did he want?" Kurt asked once Blaine ended the call and switched off
his phone.
"We're going to some swimming pool with Coop and Sebastian tonight, and then
for dinner somewhere."
Blaine reached to pull Kurt closer again. Pushing Coop out of his mind was
somehow much easier today. Huh. Maybe his brain had developed immunity.
Apparently, Kurt's brain hadn't.
"Wait. What swimming pool? Why would we go swimming at night? Is he crazy?"
"Um, he said something about Sebastian booking their company swimming pool for
us? I didn't really listen. Come on, Kuuuurt."
But Kurt was already sitting up, all business.
"Sebastian, huh? I have a bad feeling about this. Why would he – No, Blaine, my
dick developed an off switch with Cooper's name on it. And – oh my god, your
neck."
 
The hickey on Blaine's neck turned out to be pretty epic. Kurt kept glancing at
it all day, his expression switching between guilty, aroused and even a little
proud, and Blaine couldn't help but preen under his gaze. He chose to accompany
Kurt as he went to the theater and even though Kurt couldn't be persuaded to
finish what they'd started this morning (or, really, last night) in his
workroom, it was okay, because they were together. Holding hands, smiling at
each other, simply being close.
As they made a stop at a grocery store on their way back to the apartment, Kurt
absorbed in the mundane process of shopping for basic necessities and Blaine
just pushing the cart for him, he let himself imagine yet again that this was
what their everyday life would look like in a year, maybe a bit more. When he'd
come back to New York, for good this time.
For a fleeting moment he even considered asking Cooper to let him stay here
now, change schools and simply not return to Ohio, but he discarded the idea
quickly.
There were lots of practical reasons not to even attempt that. He'd have to get
both Cooper and his parents to agree, which was probably impossible. He'd need
to find a school that would even take him for one year only, not to mention
would be as good as Dalton, so that it wouldn't affect his college chances too
much. And he really doubted his parents would keep paying for a private school
for him in this (theoretical) situation. Plus, the thought of being the new
student again, starting from scratch, terrified him more than just a little, he
had to admit.
But all of that was nothing compared to the main reason: it would be such a
silly, teenage thing to do.
There was nothing mature about changing schools, cities, your whole life,
basically – a year before graduating, against your own better judgment – when
the only real reason was to be close to the person you loved. And no matter how
choking the thought of going back to Ohio was, Blaine knew that Kurt wouldn't
appreciate him taking that step, or even considering it.
Blaine would prove to Kurt and everyone else – himself included – that he might
be just eighteen, but he was mature for his age. Responsible. Trustworthy.
So he just absorbed Kurt's closeness – his voice, his beauty, the steady hold
of his hand – as much as he could now, and refused to think that in three weeks
at most, he'd have to say goodbye. It was still in the future, so worrying
about it would do nothing but rob the present moments of joy.
 
The swimming pool turned out to be pretty luxurious. Okay, who was he kidding?
It was the classiest pool Blaine had ever seen, all marble and glass, located
on a ground level of the modern office building where Sebastian worked. And the
four of them had it all to themselves for two hours tonight, which Kurt joked
was Sebastian's attempt at male bonding. In a sauna.
Yes, there was a sauna. And a jacuzzi.
There was also sparkly clean water and a diving board which Blaine immediately
climbed. God, he missed swimming more than he thought. As he resurfaced after
the dive – the water was perfect – he found the other three still standing on
the edge of the pool, watching him with amusement and, in one case, not-so-
well-hidden interest.
Sebastian snorted. "Yup, such a kid."
Blaine would have felt offended, but just then Kurt jumped into the pool and
the way he looked, cutting through water as he swam to the other end, made
Blaine forget about everything else for a moment. And then he reminded himself
that they were not alone, and their swimming trunks weren't exactly hiding
much.
He was very busy swimming after that.
                                      ***
Okay, it had been a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. Not staring at Blaine when he
was almost nakedand right there was hard enough, but with the way the muscles
of his back and arms were working under the smooth expanse of olive skin as he
swam, it was nearly impossible. God, if only Kurt could get some privacy with
his insanely hot boyfriend right now... Really, even just five minutes would be
enough. Cooper's presence was the only thing that kept him in check, although
the way Coop had rolled his eyes when he'd spotted the hickey on Blaine's neck
was more exasperated than threatening.
Still, awkward.
And yet, when Blaine got out of the water an hour later, skin glistening and
dripping wet, curls in soaked disarray, Kurt couldn't help it. He followed
Blaine to the jacuzzi like a puppy. Fuck it, Cooper or not, he had to at least
touch. Or steal a kiss. Or he'd explode.
It turned out Cooper paid them no attention whatsoever, busy swimming laps, and
Kurt really wasn't sure how it had happened, but a moment later Blaine was
sitting between his parted legs, back pressed comfortably into Kurt's chest,
Kurt's hand stroking his stomach in lazy little circles while he was stealing
chaste, chlorine-tasting kisses, and surely, this was what bliss felt like.
Until Sebastian joined them, that is. And of course Kurt should have expected
it, but it didn't make it any less grating.
"So, lovebirds, how was last night? I heard Coop let you go play house? How
nice of him. And yet, Blaine, I don't see you walking funny today, and I've
been watching carefully, believe me. Kurt, I'm sure you can do better than
that?"
Kurt felt Blaine stiffen against him. Right, he'd never quite gotten used to
Sebastian's special kind of love. He tried to diffuse the tension.
"Really, Seb, you should go get laid if you're trying to live vicariously
through us now. What's wrong, no hot interns this month?"
Sebastian smirked. "Oh, no, there are plenty, just not the right gender. You
two, however..." He wiggled his eyebrows and Blaine actually pushed back into
Kurt's embrace, as if trying to hide there. "So tell me, little Blaine, has
Kurt told you about this little fantasy of his yet? The one with –"
A vicious splash of warm salty water, directed right at the smirking face, gave
Kurt just enough time to extricate himself from under his boyfriend and pull
Sebastian out the jacuzzi and towards the deep end of the pool. He wasn't even
sorry for tipping him into the cool water before jumping in after him.
"Hey! What's gotten into you? Are you PMS-ing or something?"
Sebastian sounded honestly stunned, and Kurt splashed him again, for good
measure. "Stop that."
"Stop what?" Sebastian was all wide-eyed innocence, and Kurt rolled his eyes so
hard he was surprised they didn't rattle in his skull.
"You know what. Don't be a dick, you're making him uncomfortable."
Seb actually snorted. "Okay, first of all, you can't command me to change who I
am. I thought you accepted me, Kurt. You're hurting my feelings here, man. And
second – please, I'm being very subtle, haven't you noticed? I never even said
anything in front of Coop. And come on, if your boy is old enough to be fucked,
he's old enough to be teased about it."
Kurt made a face. He knew Sebastian wouldn't leave them in peace unless Kurt
threw him a juicy bit, which, in this case, was far less juicy than his friend
imagined, he was certain.
"What if he hasn't been? Fucked, I mean."
"What?!"
He couldn't have shocked Seb more if he told him they had managed sex while
hanging from a ceiling fan. With a small smile, he made sure it was clear.
"We haven't gotten there yet. Not like that, so... Stop, okay?"
He left Sebastian with his mouth wide open. With a powerful kick off the wall,
he swam back to where Blaine had just jumped into the water at the other end of
the pool.
 
Sebastian left them alone after that, although he kept staring at Kurt like
he'd never seen him before. Cooper behaved as if Kurt and Blaine had been
dating forever and he'd known about it from the beginning. Apparently once he
was fine with it, he was reallyfine with it. They ended up going to the sauna
by themselves because Cooper said he hated the hot humidity and Sebastian
refused to accompany "the lovebirds".
And if Kurt walked out of there a little unsteadily ten minutes later – well,
no one seemed to notice, or at least cared to comment.
Yes, it's said to be risky to have sex in the sauna. But really, when your
gorgeous, flushed, gleaming with sweat boyfriend begs you to let him blow you?
You don't say no.
After all, what's life without a little risk?
***** Chapter 16 *****
On Friday Kurt came home from work to find Blaine there, curled up in the widow
seat, looking out at the rain-soaked world with a phone by his ear. He was
barely saying anything, mostly just humming acknowledgement at whoever was at
the other end of the line. His face looked anxious and miserable when he looked
over, and Kurt tensed, instinct to help and protect flaring. He wasn't going to
eavesdrop, but the apartment wasn't that big and even from his bedroom, where
he retreated to give Blaine some privacy and get changed into more comfortable
clothes, he could hear the words a moment later.
"Yes, I know. Thank you, father, of course I appreciate it."
Blaine's voice sounded all wrong in a way Kurt hadn't heard it before, higher
than usual and strained. Kurt pulled on a t-shirt, gave up on changing the
pants and hurried back to the living room to find his boyfriend looking small
and unhappy, curled tight on himself, with his chin resting on his bent knees.
He flashed Kurt a ghost of a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring,
but wasn't, and then turned away to look out at the rain again.
Kurt hesitated in the doorway, unsure what to do. With an exception of Cooper
and Sebastian, it's been a while since he'd been close enough to anybody to
inquire about their problems, and his last boyfriend had hated when he did
that. Still, the emotions radiating off Blaine were strong enough thathe hurt
through empathy. He approached cautiously, instinct pushing him to gather the
boy in his arms and protect, but reason and experience advising to wait.
"Do you want to talk? Or... a hug?" There, it was open enough, right? Nothing
forceful?
Blaine just shook his head, not looking at him. Okay, then.
"Well, I'm right here if you do." He moved to the kitchen counter and pulled
out vegetables for tonight's dinner. Chopping and dicing was distracting enough
and yet not too demanding of his preoccupied mind.
Halfway through cutting the second pepper he heard movement from the window
seat and looked up to find Blaine watching his movements with heavy, liquid
eyes. He didn't say anything though, so Kurt remained quiet, too. He was almost
done with the salad by the time Blaine spoke, his voice tight and all wrong
still.
"How does he always manage to reduce me to this within five minutes of
conversation?"
Clearly, he didn't expect an answer – but it was something. Kurt slid the last
of the green olives into the bowl, put it in the fridge and washed his hands.
The rest of the preparations could wait.
He came closer to the window seat again and leaned against the wall by Blaine's
feet.
"Your father?"
Blaine cleared his throat. "Yes. Here I am, happily waiting for you to come
back, and then he calls and talks to me for a few minutes and I'm left like...
this. And he didn't even say anything particularly bad."
An unspoken this time hung in the air and Kurt felt his dislike of Mr. Anderson
senior grow exponentially. He didn't say anything though. Blaine seemed to only
need him to listen for now, his voice getting more bitter and harder as he
spoke.
"Just his usual stuff. I mean, I know who I am, Kurt. I accept who I am. I'm
far from perfect, but I'm not that terrible, either. I'm good at some things,
and given time, I can be really good at a few others, and I have some likeable
qualities, I think. I know what I want, I have passions and goals and dreams.
And yet my own father always manages to turn me into a pitiful heap of nothing
in a few sentences."
There were tears clearly audible in Blaine's voice now, even though they hadn't
reached his eyes yet, and the surge to take care became overwhelming. Kurt's
voice was firm and full of conviction as he spoke.
"Bee, you're about as far from either pitiful or nothing as I can imagine, I
swear."
Blaine looked up at him at last, and those eyes were like knives through the
heart, so huge and sad, brimming with tears already.
"I guess I know, rationally. But that's how I feel. He makes me doubt
everything about me. Even when he only calls to tell me he bought me a ticket
back to Ohio – for the day after my birthday, by the way. Yay. One stupid
conversation about a plane ticket and he manages to imply that I've escaped my
problems here, that I don't take my education seriously, I'm ungrateful for
everything they do for me and overall, I'm a weak, spoiled kid who should be
taught how to be a man." He sighed and wiped at his eyes in an annoyed gesture.
"Sorry, I shouldn't dump it on you. I normally don't talk about it, it's
just... hard, sometimes."
Kurt put his hand on Blaine's where it lay on his knee.
"Hey, it's okay. You can talk to me about anything and everything, I promise."
He intertwined their fingers and tugged at Blaine's hand a bit, struck with an
idea. "Come on, let me help you feel better."
Blaine let out a small, wet laugh, but shook his head. "Sorry, I just... I
don't feel much like sex right now."
"Who said anything about sex? Come on, trust me."
This time Blaine followed easily, sliding off the seat and taking the step into
Kurt's waiting arms.
"I do trust you, you know."
Kurt kissed him sweetly, just once. "Thank you," and led him to the bedroom.
"Lay down, okay?"
Blaine did so without question, his expression still miserable, but a little
curious now, too, and once he was sprawled in the middle of the bed, Kurt
climbed up to sit cross-legged beside him.
He already had a plan.
He was pretty sure no one had ever taken the time to tell Blaine exactly how
wonderful he was. And Kurt could say plenty about it. So he would.
He took one of Blaine's hands and stroked it as he spoke.
"I may not have known you as long as your father obviously has, but I'm pretty
sure I do know you better. So I want to tell you what I see when I look at you.
I want you to listen, and not interrupt, either verbally or not. Okay?"
Blaine nodded, clearly intrigued now. Kurt leaned in and kissed those luscious
lips once, then drew back and smiled.
"When I met you at the airport, my first thought was beautiful. So beautiful,
Bee. Your face, your eyes, the way you smile. It literally lights up the room,
you know? You're so radiant when you're happy, it's infectious. And your
body..."
Kurt let himself look Blaine over in a completely obvious way, enjoying the
view. He ran his fingertips down Blaine's chest, delicious in a tight black
tank top, before looking up again.
"You're gorgeous, Blaine. You're so damn hot, I had such a hard time trying not
to ogle you when we first met."
Blaine's breath was picking up speed, his cheeks a little flushed, and Kurt
kissed him once again before continuing.
"But that was only the beginning, because ever since then, I've had a chance to
see how beautiful you are on the inside, too. It's not just a pretty facade,
it's actually what you are, inside and out. Beautiful."
Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt put a finger to it, silencing him.
If Blaine thought that was all he had to say, he was really mistaken. Kurt ran
his fingertip around the lovely contour of Blaine's lips once they closed,
finishing at the seam.
"I mean, you're so sweet. So gentle and caring. You really, honestly care, not
just pretend to. You're this sweet boy who would carry heavy bags for an old
lady or climb a tree to help a kitten. And I'm pretty sure by now that you're
like that in every aspect of your life. True to your beliefs, moral,
compassionate. Do you have any idea how rare that is, Bee? People who honestly
care for others and not just their own gain; who dare to have their own beliefs
and act on them? It's a minority, and I'm in awe that in spite of where you
live and what you've had to endure because of it, you haven't lost it. Your
parents should be so proud of you. I know I am."
Blaine's mouth was open again, just slightly, but he wasn't trying to speak
this time – he looked almost comically surprised, his eyes wide and wondering.
Kurt smiled and kissed his forehead.
"And once I got to speak to you a little, I began to realize that you're not
just gorgeous and sweet, you're actually smart, too. Which was... well, not a
shock, just, wow. I expected a sulky teenager whose company I'd have to somehow
endure while showing him enough of New York to fulfill my promise to Coop. What
I found was a guy who I can really talkwith, and I know, it sounds so normal,
but it's not. We talk about everything, Bee, have you noticed? From music and
fashion and history to sociopolitical issues, and everything in between, and
god. I've never lost you in a conversation, and it's exhilarating, you have no
idea. I mean, yes, that's one of the reasons I love Seb and Cooper, they're
both freaking smart, but in general, when I try to talk with a random person
outside of my small social circle, I get some weird looks pretty fast. Or blank
stares. Don't even get me started on handsome guys. Or nice guys. Nice,
handsome men who challenge me intellectually? Exceptions. And that's you before
you're eighteen, Blaine. I don't know what the hell your father thinks, but I'm
absolutely certain that you're going to be great in whatever future you choose
for yourself because you're smart and you know what you want, and when you put
your mind to it, you're going to get there. No doubts whatsoever."
There were tears in Blaine's eyes at this point and he reached to pull Kurt
into a hard, heated kiss, ignoring his calls of "No interrupting!" Kurt
acquiesced for a moment, returning the kiss while Blaine's fingers tangled in
his hair, but the second it started to get out of control he pulled away.
"Hands away, honey. Come on, hold on to the headboard if it keeps you from
touching, but don't interrupt. I'm not finished talking."
Blaine pouted and stretched out, grabbing the rungs overhead obediently, and
Kurt had to bite down on his own lip not to moan. The position only made the
muscles in Blaine's arms more pronounced, and his top had ridden up a little,
exposing a strip of skin, the hipbones jutting invitingly. Kurt took a
steadying breath.
Hand tracing the firm contours of Blaine's arm, he continued.
"And you are strong, Blaine, don't let anyone tell you otherwise, ever. Look,
even with life giving you crap – your family, the bullying, the daily, casual
homophobia of a small town – it hasn't broken you. And I know how hard it is,
to power through stuff like this, and I know how strong it makes you – unless
it breaks you, of course. Which it didn't, and I'm sure it won't. It's all
built you up, toughened you and it's such a stunning contrast when I realize
that you're so strong, and yet still sweet and caring inside."
He paused to smile mischievously and kiss the sweet spot just under Blaine's
jaw.
"Not to mention your physical strength. The way your muscles shift when you
play the guitar or, god, when you swim. I want to see you box one day,
preferably in a private location because I know I won't be able to keep my
hands to myself. And when you took all those grocery bags from me the other day
and ran up the stairs with them as if they weighed nothing, I admit I might
have had a breathtaking vision of you fucking me against the wall –"
In a flash, Kurt found himself rolled over and pressed to the bed, Blaine
devouring his lips and grinding his hips down. He whimpered, taken by surprise,
and it took nearly inhuman amounts of self-control to roll them over and pull
away, holding Blaine's wrists pinned to the bed.
"Do I need to handcuff you to let me finish talking?" he teased.
There was a small shift in the air, a tiny gasp and a sudden darkening of
Blaine's eyes, and then Kurt remembered. His eyebrows shot up.
"Oh my god, you do want me to cuff you." His voice was full of awe, the pants
that he hadn't had time to change after work way too tight for that. Blaine
blinked, swallowed.
He nodded, barely perceptively.
Kurt scrambled off the bed to pull out a small wooden box hidden beneath it. He
hadn't used most of the items there in ages, but he easily found what he was
looking for. On a whim, he added one more thing to the cuffs, and returned to
the bed.
Blaine was waiting patiently, looking a little shell-shocked, but the way his
cock was now straining against the confines of his jeans left no doubts that it
was not a bad kind of shock. Kurt straddled his middle, taking care not to
brush against him or it might be the end of any self-control, shaky as it
already was.
He took one of the cuffs and fastened it around Blaine's wrist, careful not to
tighten it too much, and Blaine moaned at the sensation. Kurt clipped the
silver chain to the headboard and shifted to do the second hand, too.
He'd bought the cuffs years ago, while he'd been in a six-months-long
relationship with an adventurous bisexual who'd taught him everything he knew
about various kinks (and then cheated on him with a woman). They were about as
far from classic metal handcuffs as possible – a pair of black, soft leather
cuffs with a 10-inch silver chain each, they could be used separately or
fastened together. They were comfortable, versatile and didn't rub the wrists
the way fabric did, leaving no marks. Plus, they were pretty, which was
essential for Kurt.
He looked his work over once he was done. Oh yes, it was a wonderful picture.
His gorgeous boyfriend, flushed and disheveled, the black and silver
contrasting beautifully with the tan skin... Perfection.
He moved off the bed again; there was one thing that had to be done before they
could proceed. There was no way he could stay in these pants; they were not
designed for sexual situations. Pushing the tight jeans down, he sighed in
relief and returned to the bed, only the black v-neck and light blue boxer
briefs on. Blaine pulled on the restraints and groaned.
Oh, this was going to be so much fun.
Kurt took his time running his palms over the definition of Blaine's stomach
before he spoke again.
"Where was I? Oh, your strength. So, believe me – Blaine? Are you listening to
me?"
He wasn't, eyes trained on the bulge in Kurt's underwear. Oh, okay, so a tiny
wet spot might have appeared there, his cock a little overly eager, but really,
he was saying important stuff here. Kurt took the long strip of black crushed
velvet he'd pulled out of the box earlier and moved up the bed.
"I think I might just have to cover your eyes so that you can focus on my
words, hm?" He murmured, and Blaine moaned, straining to try and mouth on
Kurt's cock which was just inches too far for him to reach. "Blaine?"
"Yes, yes you can blindfold me; you can do anything you want to me, please.
Just... I'm not sure I'm capable of actually understanding anything you may say
now, my brain is so not interested in words."
Kurt brushed the strip of soft fabric over Blaine's eyes before tying it, not
too tight, but enough to block out any light. He settled back on his heels
then, one hand tracing random patterns over Blaine's chest and stomach, pushing
the top further up, enjoying the way the muscles trembled under his fingertips.
"Oh, it's okay, I wasn't going to say anything too complicated. Just that I
adore what a generous, talented lover you are, so good with your hands and your
lips. Which isn't really that much of a surprise, considering you do practice a
lot... I mean, playing and singing, of course. And –" Kurt let his hand wander
down over the straining fabric of Blaine's jeans and gasped in an exaggerated
manner. "Oh, but you must be uncomfortable. Here, can I help you with these
pants?"
"God yes, please." Blaine all but groaned and then whined when Kurt
accidentallybrushed his hand over Blaine's length while opening the zipper.
Kurt did his best to sound apologetic even though he really wasn't.
"I'm sorry, you said no sex today. I'll be good. Let me just finish talking and
I'll uncuff you, and we can cuddle." Kurt was in full-on tease mode now, and
loving it.
"No! Please, Kurt, please please please, I think –"
"Yes?" He shouldn't have so much fun; his goal was to comfort Blaine, after
all. But he couldn't help himself.
"I think I really need the sex now. To, you know, make sure I won't forget what
you said?" Oh, so Blaine was in on the game. Thank god.Kurt smirked.
"Oh really?"
"Definitely."
"Okay, if you think you are better now..."
"I am, Kurt, please." He seemed to be, too, Kurt was glad to notice. He turned
down the teasing for a moment to make sure.
"Should I remove the blindfold and cuffs?"
"No, I really really want them on. If I can?"
And oh, Kurt was all too happy to oblige.
"Yes, you can." It was whispered against the warm skin of Blaine's hipbone,
just over the waistband of his briefs, and he whimpered. Kurt got off the bed
once more.
"You know, I think I need to take those off." He made a show of removing the
last two articles of his clothing, letting them brush and whisper against his
skin so that Blaine could hear. Then he climbed back on the bed and lay by his
boyfriend's side, pressing against him and diving in for a kiss. "Hmm, I'll
just use the fact that you're quite immobile now to show you how much I love
your body. To, you know, reiterate the message."
Kurt loved teasing. He loved having a lot of time and an eager partner to
prolong the play, control the situation. It gave him a thrill beyond anything
else and after a few years of having no opportunity for this kind of fun – one-
night stands rarely meant more than just easy, uncomplicated sex – he was
ecstatic to be able to share it with Blaine who, it turned out, loved it too.
Kurt took his sweet time kissing and licking every uncovered inch of Blaine's
skin, sucking little hickeys in a few well-hidden places. He let his hands roam
everywhere, alternating from feather light to kneading to scraping his
fingernails in long, swiping lines. He waited until Blaine was a babbling,
whimpering mess, arching against the pillows and begging to come before he even
removed his briefs – careful not to brush it over the swollen head of Blaine's
cock. When he leaned over him, pinning his hips to the bed with strong hands,
and simply breathed warm, moist puffs of air, his lips barely an inch over
where Blaine wanted them, his boyfriend thrashed against the restraints so hard
the bed rattled.
Yes, he was strong.
Kurt knew he could probably make Blaine come with a single swipe of his tongue
over the head of his cock at this point. And he was so close himself, having
stopped so many times already, that he would most likely follow just from the
view. But he really, really wanted something else tonight.
Pulling away, he tried to sound light and conversational.
"Okay, I'm thirsty. I think I'll go drink some water. Do you want something?"
Blaine wanted to kill him, judging by the string of half-coherent words that
flew from his mouth. Or maybe just pin him to the wall and fuck him. It was
hard to say.
Shit. No thinking about that when he was trying to cool off.
Before leaving the room, Kurt took off Blaine's blindfold and kissed him
swiftly. "I'll be right back."
"Kurrrrrrrrt!"
He spent exactly three minutes in the kitchen, sipping cold water and staring
at the clock. It felt like an eternity.
When he entered the bedroom again, Blaine growled at him.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"
Kurt made sure to sound offended.
"Of course not. I'll release you immediately if you want. In fact, I wanted to
release you anyway, and then ask you to turn over and –"
"Fuck me?" Hopeful. Desperate.
Kurt bit his lip. That was an option too, but no. It would be over too fast,
and he wanted Blaine's first time to be more memorable.
"Not this time. But something new. I think you might like it. I know I do."
                                      ***
Blaine loved it.
Kurt's weight over him, anchoring him and pressing him into the bed, was like
permission to let go, and he really needed that tonight.
Kurt's cock, long and thick, took Blaine's breath away when it first slid, hot
and slippery with the lube, along the crack of his ass. When it brushed over
his rim, he thought he'd explode.
He didn't. Not yet. Kurt was slow and careful, letting both of them enjoy the
friction, the building pressure of want, need, growing and overwhelming, before
he sped up, clearly unable to hold on any longer.
Held between Kurt's strong body and the soft cotton of his sheets, feeling safe
and loved and so wanted, Blaine came harder than he'd ever had, his hoarse cry
echoing off the walls.
Before he slipped into the sweet abyss of sleep, he whispered one last
sentence, just the simplest thing, in case Kurt didn't know. He had to know.
"I love you."
***** Chapter 17 *****
The next few days brought changes in Kurt's routine that he wasn't quite ready
for, even though he'd known they were coming for a long time. This weekend
marked the beginning of work on the new show they were preparing, and while for
Kurt it mostly meant costume drafting and brainstorming, it all involved other
people and meant he had to spend long hours at the theater every single day.
Not for the first time, he realized that he really, really hated the fact that
he wasn't a completely independent designer. Sure, he worked on a relatively
free schedule, but there was a price: at times like this, before every new
show, there were weeks when he would work every day, including weekends. And
this time, he was surprised to realize how much he resented the actors and
directors for being such free spirits – because really, would it hurt them to
be on time sometimes, so that he could finally go home and not cancel the
dinner date with his boyfriend for the third day in a row?
The boyfriend he only had ten days left with before they'd be separated by too
many miles to count?
They'd taken to spending every free moment together and Cooper no longer even
said anything when Blaine stayed overnight at Kurt's. But it was too little,
never enough, and when Kurt had to leave the warm bed where his gorgeous
boyfriend was sprawled, naked, loose and pliant, a faint tremor of release
still dancing under his skin; when a coffee-tasting kiss ended too soon because
how did it get so late, he felt like time was running away from him and he
could do nothing to keep those moments from slipping between his fingers.
He hated this feeling.
By Tuesday, Blaine started to accompany Kurt on his way to work. They'd kiss
goodbye a block from the theater and Blaine would go to the gym. Even this
additional half hour together was precious at this point.
 
Thursday promised to be crazy from the get-go.
At eight Kurt was awakened by a phone call from the frantic director and
summoned to the theater immediately. They'd just gotten news that the lead
actress in their current show collapsed this morning and was rushed to surgery
with internal bleeding due to ectopic pregnancy. They had an understudy, of
course, but the girl was new, she hadn't had a chance to perform with them yet
and, of course, the costumes needed quite a lot of alterations for her to fit
in them by the evening. Kurt was forced to get up and rush through his morning
routine, which meant the results were far from satisfactory for his standards.
Of course, as it usually was on those days, nothing else went well. His hair
decided to misbehave, no matter how convincing Kurt was with the products, he
cut himself while shaving and he had no time to grab any breakfast. At least he
had good, extra-strong coffee, thanks to Blaine heading to the kitchen the
second he heard Kurt needed to get up and go.
They ended up going together anyway, since Blaine refused to stay and get some
more sleep, and Kurt was secretly happy about it. Who knew how long he'd have
to stay at work today? He had two meetings planned for the afternoon, both
about the new show, and with the addition of major last-minute costume changes,
it promised to be a long day. They may not see each other until late this
evening, and Blaine had promised Cooper he’d come home for the night.
Overall, Kurt's mood was far from good when they were riding the subway towards
their destination, coffee cups clutched in their hands, standing close like
sardines. At least he knew that Blaine didn't mind him rambling.
"I mean, I've told them more than once it would be safer to have an additional
set of costumes for the understudy, just in case – I could tell on the first
day she wouldn't fit into Karen's. She's bustier and curvier in general, and
altering a dress like this is way more complicated than simply letting some
seams out. But no. They're too cheap for that, and they were so certain it
wouldn't be needed anyway since Karen's so serious about her roles, she's never
had a day off, not once in three years. And now, surprise, it turns out that
emergencies happen even to the best of us, and I have to save their asses, and
– fuck, what now?"
Kurt's phone was ringing in his pocket, loud and annoying, and he rolled his
eyes, doing some serious acrobatics to try and take it out without elbowing any
of their fellow passengers. They were almost to their stop now and the crowd
around them was pushing and moving, trying to get premium positions for the
exit.
Kurt glanced at the screen. It showed an unknown number and he almost wished it
was some fool trying to sell him something. He'd have an outlet for his
annoyance then.
He answered just as the train rolled to a stop.
"Kurt Hummel," he announced curtly.
                                      ***
Blaine watched as Kurt answered the phone, feeling almost sorry for whoever was
on the other end. Kurt was at his bitchiest this morning and even though Blaine
himself was probably safe – Kurt never really snapped at him even when he was
like this – the rest of the world should be scared. He wondered who it was, the
unknown caller about to be verbally eviscerated, but what followed wasn't a
typical Kurt Hummel cutting comment.
Kurt actually paled, his fingers tightening their hold on the phone and his
body going completely still in the ever-moving mass of people. Immediately,
Blaine felt anxiety crawl up his throat; something was wrong.
Kurt's voice was high and breathless when he spoke.
"Oh! Hello, sir. Yes, of course I remember." He was so focused on what he
heard, his eyes going wide, that he didn't move even when the train stopped and
people started to push them in their hurry to exit.
Embracing Kurt's waist, Blaine led him off the train and away to the less
crowded end of the platform, narrowly avoiding being tripped by a feisty old
lady armed with a pink floral umbrella that she wielded like a fencing saber.
Kurt was still tense and uncooperative in his arms, listening intently, but
when an angry-looking businessman collided with him full-force, he snapped out
of it.
"Excuse me, I'm just getting off the train, do you mind if I call you back in
five minutes?" He nodded, listening to the response, and smiled, making
Blaine's pounding heart slow down at last. "Yes, of course. Five minutes."
It couldn't be that bad if Kurt smiled, right?
Wrong.
The smile disappeared the second Kurt disconnected the call and was instantly
substituted by full-fledged panic blossoming on Kurt's face. Blaine held him
tighter.
"What's wrong?" Kurt just shook his head, looking like a deer in the
highlights. "Kurt, you're scaring me, what happened?"
Kurt took a deep breath, then another, looking like he was going to
hyperventilate, but then seemed to get himself together enough to speak.
"La Nuit Designs, remember them?"
Blaine nodded, frowning. "Like I wouldn't remember your favorite modern
designer company."
"They called me." Kurt's face was completely white now and Blaine didn't
understand. It was good news, right?
"Kurt, that's incredible, but... why?"
"I... I sent them an email with a presentation of my designs. It was a moment
of insanity. I never thought they'd even look at it. But they did, and they
liked it, and now they want me to meet with Julian, their head designer."
Blaine beamed and squeezed Kurt's hands. "Oh my god, that's amazing!"
But Kurt only shook his head furiously. "No, it's not! He's only in New York
for a day and he wants to meet in two hours, that's the only window of free
time he has. And today, of all days, I can't go back home to take the designs
and the samples, or even get changed – god, I couldn't possibly meet him like
this, even if I had anything to show him with me."
Kurt looked dashing as usual, but Blaine knew that jeans and a simple black
turtleneck, no matter how well-fitted, wasn't what Kurt considered a fashion
statement.
"Fuck, of course it had to be today, when I have literally no chance to make it
happen. I should be used to it by now, life teasing me with things I want most
and then snatching them away from me."
Blaine was alarmed to hear tears in Kurt's voice, some bitter kind of
resignation that had never been there before. Kurt's shoulders slumped and he
cleared his throat, trying to get himself under control. He let himself be held
when Blaine gathered him into a tight embrace.
Something had to be done.
Blaine's brain worked frantically, and when Kurt pulled away a moment later, he
already had a plan.
He wasn't sure he was as smart as Kurt gave him credit for, but one thing he
knew for certain: he was good at thinking on his feet.
Kurt took a deep breath, straightening his back again, but the defeat in his
eyes tore at Blaine's heart.
 "Okay, I'm fine. I'm okay. I'll just call him back and tell him I can't meet
today. With any luck, they may give me another chance or –"
Blaine took the phone away from Kurt's hand and pulled him to a nearby bench,
his mind all calm now.
"No, you won't. Here's what we're going to do. You call back and set the
meeting somewhere close to the theater."
Kurt shook his head. "But I don't –" Blaine silenced him with a squeeze of his
hand.
"Shh. Then you will go to work and do as much as you can so that you can get
away later. In the meantime, I'll take a cab to your apartment and get your
portfolio and the samples."
"But the drawings are all over the place, I've been working on them again and
–"
"I'll put them in order and get the portfolio ready. I've watched you work on
them, I've listened to you talk me through the process. I know them by heart,
Kurt. I know how they should be set and ordered. Don't worry about it. I'll
bring you a change of clothes, too, you'll just need to tell me what you want.
I'll be back with time to spare, trust me. Now come on, make the call. Don't
keep the man waiting."
"But..."
He could see Kurt was itching to listen but hesitated, with so much out of his
control. It wasn't that Kurt didn't trust him, Blaine knew. It was that with
some things, including his designs and outfits, he trusted no one but himself.
Still, it was accepting Blaine's plan or losing the opportunity.
"Come on. I'm not going to let you pass up this chance without trying. Please
trust me, Kurt."
It only took a few seconds, and he'd never seen Kurt's eyes so unguarded, with
such a spectrum of emotions there, but he did take the phone.
"Okay," he breathed out.
[chapter17]
 
Once the meeting was set, Kurt went into what could only be called stage fright
mode. He was pacing in front of the bench, trying to simultaneously plan an
outfit and instruct Blaine on where the drawings and the sample clothes were,
and how they should be set, his hands shaking and his eyes a little crazy.
Blaine let him do that for about a minute before he realized it didn't help
Kurt calm down at all. He stood up and put his hands on Kurt's shoulders,
stopping him.
"Okay, breathe. You need to go, I can handle this. Your pictures are numbered
and I know where you left them. I know where the portfolio is and how to pack
the samples. I'll call you when I'm standing in front of your open closet so
that you can tell me exactly what I should choose. I'll take a cab so
everything will be safe. Now go. You have a costume emergency waiting. I'll
call you in a half hour."
Kurt went.
 
Thanks to a bit of luck and a hefty tip for the cab driver, Blaine managed to
get everything ready and back to Kurt in just under an hour and a half. There
was still time for the portfolio and the samples to be checked (twice), for
Kurt to change into the new outfit and obsess about his hair, and for Blaine to
assure him precisely six times that he looked fantastic; classy yet original,
and exactly what a successful fashion designer should look like. He even had
time to offer a stress-relieving blowjob but, unsurprisingly, Kurt wasn't
interested.
He walked Kurt to the coffeeshop five minutes ahead of time. With a single kiss
and a whisper of "Remember, you are amazing", he sent him on the way that would
lead him, Blaine was pretty sure, exactly where Kurt deserved to be: to the
very top.
 
When Blaine's phone rang an hour later, Kurt's voice was so bright and happy,
it brought a wide grin to his face.
"He lovedthem, Bee! Julian absolutely loved the designs and they're taking
them, and he wants more. He wants me to work for them, as a freelance designer
for now, but he says my vision and ideas fit the company perfectly! So if this
line goes well, I can expect a more steady job offer and... Oh my god Blaine,
my designs will be at La Nuit!" Kurt let out a small squeal of delight and
Blaine beamed even more.
"I told you, you are amazing! God, I'm so proud of you. Are you back now?"
"Yup. At the theater, trying to stop bouncing so that I can get back to sewing,
but it's proving impossible."
"Okay, before you do, open the door."
There was a gasp in the receiver and then the door was pulled open. Kurt's face
was the happiest Blaine had ever seen it and he only managed to hand him the
bouquet, a dozen red and yellow roses, before he was pulled into a one-armed
hug, Kurt laughing and sniffling into his neck at the same time.
"I couldn't have done it without you. I could never... just, thank you, Bee.
Thank you so much."
***** Chapter 18 *****
Blaine didn't quite know how he'd found himself in his current situation.
Well okay, technically, it wasn't true. Every separate step leading to where he
was now made perfect sense. It was the end result that didn't.
Last night, after Kurt had returned from the theater, still elated but tired,
there wasn't much time for celebration. Even if Blaine had managed to buy
champagne, which he hadn't, the forty minutes they had together before he had
to go meet Cooper for dinner was far from enough.
So early this morning, as soon as Coop left for work, Blaine got dressed and
ran out the door. Minutes later, he was letting himself into Kurt's apartment
and Kurt's bedroom, undressing quietly and sliding into the bed next to his
naked, gorgeous boyfriend.
Kurt opened one sleepy eye, hummed contentedly and burrowed closer. His sleep-
heated skin felt like heaven on Blaine's, cool with the early morning run.
Within seconds, Kurt's breathing evened out again and Blaine was perfectly
happy to close his eyes and catch some more sleep too, tangled up in his
favorite person in the whole wide world.
 A few hours later, he found himself awake first, and he lay there quietly,
smiling, until the change in Kurt's breathing told him he was waking up. He
cuddled closer into his boyfriend's embrace then, starting a trail of kisses up
the side of Kurt's neck to his ear.
"Good morning, La Nuit's rising star."
There was a hitch in Kurt's breathing, as if he just remembered the events of
yesterday, and then  happy, sleep-rough laughter.
"Mm, someone wants to get laid." Kurt rolled to his side and pressed closer
into Blaine's eager body. "Let me go pee and brush my teeth, and then... we
could do just that?"
With a teasing kiss, Kurt jumped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom,
leaving Blaine stunned and aroused, wondering if he understood correctly.
He did.
And everything was perfect – the right time and circumstances, the want
thrumming in Blaine's body, Kurt's hands trembling as he took forever to
prepare him, and then some more to be sure. There was too much lube and a box
of condoms open on the pillow, and Kurt's voice breaking slightly while asking
him to turn over. And then there were Kurt's fingers again, stretching further,
making sure. Pausing for a heartbeat, two, five. Too many.
Retreating.
"Wait, I want to try one more thing first." The words sounded light, slightly
teasing maybe, and if Blaine thought it was strange, he ignored it, lost too
deep in the want and excitement.
One more thing turned out to be an anal plug, elongated and curved, and, at its
widest point, quite a bit thicker than anything Blaine had had inside him
before, while still not as big as Kurt himself. The sensation of being
stretched even further, opened and filled like this, left him raw and helpless,
whimpering with the need for the toy to move, for Kurt to get there instead and
just take him already.
Which was why Blaine's current circumstances made no sense.
He wasn't sprawled on Kurt's bed, being filled and fucked and taken apart with
the perfection of Kurt's cock.
He was sitting – okay, more like hovering an inch over the chair – in a nearby
coffee shop, afraid to move with the plug still deep inside his ass, rubbing in
all the right spots (so very wrong in this situation) with the tiniest
movement. It kept him constantly on the edge. Kurt was sitting opposite him,
his eyes wide, untouched coffee in front of him.
How had he managed to convince Blaine to get up, get dressed and go for coffee
of all things? That was what Blaine didn't understand.
Very carefully, he moved to try and get some weight off his elbows resting on
the table, and onto the chair, and a moan ripped from his throat, unstoppable.
The plug was curved right there and there was no way in hell Blaine could
actually sit down without getting a very intense, way too loud and very public
orgasm. The mere thought made his ass clench around the toy, pushing it further
in, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying out.
His breath coming in shallow little pants, his vision blurry, he managed to
whisper. "Kurt please. I'm begging you, can we go now? I need, god... Kurt."
And Kurt must have finallyunderstood his desperation because not only did he
get up and grab Blaine's hand, leaving their coffee to pull him towards the
exit (Blaine trying very hard to walk like he wasn't being fucked with every
step), but he actually led him to the narrow, cluttered alley behind the shop
where some dumpsters hid them from view. Thank god. Blaine didn't think he
could make it another step without moaning.
Then it was Kurt's body pushing him into a wall, both hands sliding to Blaine's
ass to press him closer and Blaine did moan then, his face hidden in Kurt's
neck. Between Kurt's kneading hands moving the toy and the hard press of his
thigh, the world was spiraling, the coil tightening too fast to do anything but
fall apart, hoping to be caught in spite of the circumstances or the place or
Kurt's uncharacteristic silence.
 
It was weird afterwards, awkward in a way it had never been between them. Kurt
led him the short way back to his apartment, wincing every time Blaine let out
a hiss or bit his lip, the rub of the plug nearly unbearable now that the
oversensitivity set in, and the wet discomfort in his pants making it worse.
Once inside – and Blaine had never been so grateful for a functioning elevator
– Kurt spoke at last, sounding so apologetic Blaine would hug him if he didn't
have other, more pressing matters to take care of.
"God, I'm sorry, Blaine. It was such a stupid idea, I'm sorry, are you okay?
Should I –" he made a somewhat helpless, vague gesture towards Blaine's pants
and Blaine quickly shook his head. He needed a moment alone.
"I'm fine, I'm okay. I'll just go shower."
Kurt nodded, looking like he was about to cry, and Blaine forced a small smile
to try and comfort him. He really was fine, he thought as he shut himself in
the bathroom, got rid of the sticky clothes and stepped into the shower stall.
Sore, as easing the plug gently out and touching his stretched rim proved, but
essentially nothing bad had happened. So why did this feel so off?
The orgasm, though intense, had felt unsatisfactory somehow, as if something
important was missing. Kurt's behavior was different, too, he realized, working
the ginger-lemongrass body wash into a lather over his chest. Not all along,
no. Starting... hm, around the time he decided on the plug? Probably, though
Blaine couldn't be sure with the way his brain had been overloaded with want.
It almost felt like Kurt didn't want to fuck him though.
Blaine stilled, a trickle of shampoo suds finding its way to his eye, but he
just rubbed at it absentmindedly. It couldn't be it, could it? Because minutes
earlier Kurt had seemed just as desperate for it as Blaine was. Why would he
change his mind?
Unless... did he decide it was not the right time after all? Did he want to do
it some other day? But why? They didn't have that much time before Blaine's
birthday and his –
Oh . His birthday. Was that it? Did Kurt decide, all of a sudden, to wait until
then? The more Blaine thought about it, while rinsing the conditioner out of
his hair and drying himself off, the more it seemed like the only logical
explanation. Why such a sudden change of heart though? Why wouldn't Kurt just
tell him?
He wanted to ask, he really did. But Kurt was so worried about him during the
hour before he had to go to work, so apologetic and tender that Blaine didn't
have the heart to discuss the topic further. He decided to stay and practice
his set for the evening performance instead of going to the gym though, and by
the time he had to go to the Hippo that evening, Kurt was still at the theater.
He'd called to tell Blaine that he had to work most of the night, some overdue
project, so they wouldn't meet until tomorrow evening, after all. But he
promised he had a treat for him then, a field trip of sorts.
By the time they met the next evening, Kurt was his usual sweet, caring self,
if tired-looking after the extra work, and Blaine had basically accepted that
he was getting sex as his birthday rite of passage. He'd even gotten to the
point of laughing yesterday's experience off.
So he'd had his first less-than-awesome sexual act. It happened.
Everything was alright.
                                      ***
Having finally flopped on his bed this Friday evening, long after Blaine had
gone to the Hippo, Kurt wondered why he hadn't realized sooner that it was not
going to happen. He should have seen it, should have understood earlier.
Instead, the knowledge had been creeping up on his mind slowly like a shadow.
Though his body must have known for quite some time already. How else could he
explain all those delicious, perfect opportunities when both he and Blaine had
ached, wanted; when his beautiful boy had basically begged to be fucked – and
yet, somehow, they'd ended up trying something else yet again. Kurt kept
getting distracted despite everything being right and in place for that one
last step forward.
At first, it was so easy to explain. It should be perfect, as wonderful a first
time as he could give Blaine, so it was obvious that Kurt waited for just the
right moment when they wouldn't have to hurry or worry about the time.
Then suddenly they had all the time they wanted. A whole week of constant
touching, of sleeping together, and it would be the most natural thing to...
but no. Afterall, there were still so many things he wanted to show Blaine
first, so many steps that they could enjoy.
Then it was Cooper's disapproval. Next – his blessing being so fresh that they
both felt like walking on eggshells, suddenly being official.
The excuse that finally made Kurt admit to his avoidance came this morning,
when he was all poised to push into Blaine's sweet, eager heat at last: he was
simply too big and afraid of hurting him.
(Which made no sense for two reasons. First, while being well-endowed, Kurt had
no monster in his pants. Second, he'd never worried about it with any other
guy. Ever. Not to mention Blaine's enthusiasm towards all the toys they'd used
made it more than obvious he could handle it.)
So he'd made a last-second dodge, a stupid, idiotic decision that felt wrong as
soon as he made it, and yet he pushed through with it. He'd taken what would
have been right and perfect, what Blaine really wanted, and gave him a cheap
substitute instead, on a whim – or a bout of panic, really – without explaining
it or even asking first. It was wrong on so many levels, and now Kurt really
hoped Blaine would be generous enough to forget and forgive him. Because Kurt
couldn't forgive himself.
And now, after a torturously long day at work, it was time to look at the giant
pink elephant in Kurt's bedroom. And once approached, the merry animal didn't
shy away from flashing the truth right at him in bold neon-bright letters and
then trampling all over his heart as it walked out.
For the first time Kurt lied to Blaine then. Some would say that it wasn't even
lying when he said that he needed time alone to do some important stuff that he
should have dealt with earlier. Still, in his mind it was as bad as an outward
lie.
But he really needed that time away from his kind, loving, compassionate
boyfriend. If only to spend it in his bed, letting himself break apart before
putting on stitches and strengthening his walls that had somehow gotten so thin
in the previous weeks that they were barely there anymore.
And that could not be accepted.
So motivations were analyzed and understood, decisions were made, and the last
week before Blaine's birthday was planned. Kurt would fill it to the brim with
attractions, pleasures for both body and mind as they caught the sweet golden
hours of the passing summer, trying not to speak or even think of the fact that
so very soon Blaine would be going back to Ohio.
They had so little time left.
                                      ***
Technically, Blaine shouldn't be let in. But an assurance from Kurt that the
kid was – and would stay – with them, reinforced by a little incentive that
Sebastian slipped to the bouncer behind Kurt's back, granted him a pass, and
now he was standing by the door, looking around with wide, curious eyes.
Well, for a first visit to a gay club, this was definitely a good one,
Sebastian thought. Much classier than the small town gay hole he himself used
to visit almost religiously back in high school. He shook his head to get rid
of the bleak memory and put his arms around both Kurt and Blaine's waists to
lead them to the tall, glass and steel bar.
When Kurt had called him that morning – an actual morning, which was disturbing
by itself – to ask if he would come with them tonight, Sebastian never
hesitated. He would say yes anyway, jumping at the chance to watch these two
interact, now that he'd learned about Kurt's unprecedented abstinence. And with
Kurt's voice betraying a rough night, in that all-too-familiar way that
Sebastian had hoped he would never hear again, there was nothing that could
keep him away.
Which didn't mean he was planning to act as a third wheel – oh no, it had been
way too long since he'd had any decent fun of the man on man variety. He'd just
make sure that his incurable romantic of a friend hadn't gotten himself into
trouble, first.
Or, he corrected after just a few minutes of watching Kurt in the club, how
deep was the trouble that he had gotten himself into.
It didn't take all that long. Sebastian spent a single hour by the bar, sipping
drinks and watching the happy couple, analyzing the way they danced, talked,
kissed; Blaine getting looser and more relaxed by the minute, Kurt almost too
attentive and caring, but tense in that almost imperceptible way that no one
but those who knew him extremely well understood.
Finally, Sebastian pushed away from the bar with a deep sigh, downed the rest
of his drink and went to find himself some company. There was nothing he could
do tonight, so he could just as well go enjoy himself.
The talk could wait until tomorrow.
                                      ***
On Sunday afternoon, Kurt was sitting in his kitchen alone, a pencil in his
hand, a glass of whiskey standing by the other, trying to occupy his mind with
sketching. Blaine was out spending some time with Cooper, since it was his last
full Sunday in New York. A week from now, he would be back in Ohio.
Kurt's phone rang and he sighed, seeing Sebastian's name on the display. Of
course. He'd known there was an interrogation coming. His friend's determined
face last night left no doubts about it, but Kurt had hoped it wouldn't be
quite so soon. He swiped the screen and answered.
"Hi, Seb."
"Are you alone?" Sebastian wasn't one to beat about the bush.
"Yes."
"I'll be there in a moment." There was no room for argument. Kurt pushed the
half-finished drawing aside – it looked too much like Blaine in a fancy suit
anyway – and got up to take out a second glass.
 
"Okay, talk to me." Sebastian commanded before his ass even touched the chair.
"About what?"
"Your sudden chastity. It's unlike you. Is your boy such a prude? Because he
certainly doesn't seem to be, the way he looks at you like he wants to devour
you."
Kurt fiddled with his glass. The fact he'd known the talk was coming didn't
mean he was ready for it. "It's complicated."
"... or be devoured."
"Let it go, Seb."
No such luck, of course.
"So how come you haven't tapped that yet?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me. You'd be surprised how much I can understand. I'm pretty smart, you
see, I just hide it really well. It's my big secret, and now you're in on it.
So spill. I can see there's something bothering you."
Kurt sighed. Maybe he should. There was no one else he could really talk to
about it, and it had been killing him for the last two days.
"It's just... I can't."
"Surely you're not telling me you've gone soft, are you? Or has your dick
gotten so blue it fell off?"
Ugh. Or maybe it wasa bad idea. “Seb –“
"Okay, kidding aside. What's wrong?"
Kurt took a deep breath and a deeper drink of his whiskey. He put the empty
glass down and stared at it. His friend waited patiently. Finally, Kurt
shrugged.
"I guess... I think I'm afraid. Like if I do this, I'll get too close, grow
attached. Fall too deep, again."
Sebastian nodded sagely.
"I hate to break it to you, but you already seem plenty attached. More attached
that I've seen you in a long, long time. So what's this one simple step?"
"Yeah, but that's it – I can't be attached, Seb. He'll go away, and that will
be it. Long-distance never works, and he's so young. He may think it's gonna
last, but with time, it will fade into nothing. He'll meet someone else, forget
me. And it feels like taking this one last step will seal it. It's gonna be too
much, too close, and I won't be able to –"
"To lie to yourself anymore?"
Kurt just shook his head and refilled his glass, words stuck in his throat. Seb
sighed and pushed his own glass forward to be filled, too. His voice was soft
and concerned when he spoke again.
"Oh, babe. You've already fallen, haven't you? You love that ridiculously
adorable kid."
Kurt's hand trembled when he took the glass and drained it in one go. He didn't
say anything. He didn't have to.
"Oh fuck, pretty. You're in trouble."
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in his own thoughts, but then
Sebastian spoke again.
"So what, you're gonna break up with him before he goes? Because that would be
a shitty move, Kurt. The way he looks at you –"
"No." The answer was immediate, no thinking needed. This had never been an
option. "Of course not. I couldn't do this to him, break his heart."
"So you'll just let him break yours when the time comes." Sebastian sighed.
"Damn, Kurt, how do you always do that? I mean, I'll be there with ice cream,
alcohol and friendly make-outs when the time comes, of course, but –"
"But?"
"Just... take care of yourself, okay? I don't want to have to scrape you off a
New York sidewalk one day. I really prefer you in one piece."
Kurt just nodded. They'd never talked about that one night back when, and they
would continue not to. But they both knew: sometimes, love was too much.
***** Chapter 19 *****
By next Saturday – his birthday and last day in New York – Blaine had all but
forgotten that anything unsettling had happened. Kurt had decided that since
they wouldn't have all weekend to celebrate properly, with the plane leaving
Sunday morning, Blaine deserved a whole birthday week instead. The results were
mindblowing. Blaine had never felt so loved and cherished in his whole life.
Starting Monday morning, there were flowers every day, from single red roses
and while lilies, to a bouquet of sunflowers and red carnations delivered the
only morning of the week he didn't stay overnight at Kurt's.
There were two Broadway shows. A romantic midnight walk through the city,
holding hands, kissing on every street corner. A piano concert in Central Park
at sunset. There was waking up to Kurt's smile nearly every morning and picking
him up at the theater in the afternoons, to go to dinner or cook together, and
falling asleep safe and happy in Kurt's arms. There were Kurt's words, always
reminding Blaine that he was special and important.
There were gifts, too. A beautiful leather messenger bag for school. A box of
fancy bowties, sewn by Kurt himself. A Moleskine notebook when Blaine admitted
to keeping a journal. An adorable plush puppy whose eyes, Kurt said, reminded
him of Blaine's. There was hinting at a more personal present to come Saturday
night, and Blaine pretended not to have any idea what it might be.
Cooper joined the early celebrations on Thursday morning, over breakfast,
handing Blaine an envelope. Inside was a Visa card with Blaine's name on it.
"I want you to have it for emergencies. Which includes at least one trip to New
York during the school year just in case you miss me. Or, you know, anyone
else. It's connected to my account."
Coop smiled mischievously and Blaine nearly knocked over his coffee in a hurry
to hug his brother. Then Cooper produced a piece of paper.
"And this is proof that I will come see you for Christmas this year."
It was a plane ticket to Columbus on Christmas Eve, and really, Blaine couldn't
have wished for a better birthday present. Christmas alone with his parents was
always the toughest part of the year.
Even Sebastian surprised him with a gift – a tastefully decorated box handed to
him on Friday night, when his last performance at the Hippoturned into a full-
blown party, with a birthday cake and champagne right at midnight. Of course,
Blaine should have known better than to open Seb's present in public. He didn't
think about it, however, overwhelmed with all the joy and love he felt
surrounding him, so the extensive set of personal lubricants that the box
revealed made him groan and quickly put the lid back on in embarrassment.
Sebastian smirked at him.
"What? The nights in Ohio will seem even longer after the summer you've had.
Better to be prepared than chafed."
Blaine hid his burning face in his hands.
In all the blissful time they had, Blaine and Kurt managed to fit one
conversation about their future. Curled around each other in Kurt's bed one
night, still sweaty and cuddly and not-quite-asleep, they exchanged soft
assurances about phone calls and Skype and emails, about pictures and spring
break, and missing each other. Blaine fell asleep to the thought that no matter
how hard it was going to be with the distance, it would be worth it. Kurt would
be worth it.
                                      ***
Kurt was somewhat proud of his abilities to keep himself in check. All week,
focused on Blaine, being with Blaine nearly non-stop, with his feelings all
fresh and raw and so obvious now – he managed to only break down once.
It was one afternoon at the theater, when he emerged into the foyer to find
Blaine with a little girl, maybe two years old, in his arms. Blaine had offered
to take care of her for a few minutes, Kurt later learned, while her mom, one
of the actresses, talked to the director.
Of course, everyone in the theater knew Blaine by now, so it was no big deal,
but somehow the picture of a child held securely in Blaine's embrace as he
walked around the foyer, showing her the photos and posters from various
performances and answering her incessant questions with a warm, patient smile
on his face, touched something raw and aching in Kurt's chest. He had to
quietly retreat to his office and work on breathing exercises, and still when
Blaine came to find him ten minutes later, Kurt had a hard time convincing him
that his red-rimmed eyes were a result of going through the props archives,
disturbing the ancient layers of dust there.
He hadn't even known he wanted children one day.
But all in all, he managed better than he thought he would – reminding himself
that this was all he could have, the now, and just taking what he could. Yes,
there would be phone calls and Skype dates later, longing and tender words and
assurances, but Kurt didn't let himself believe, not for one moment, that
they'd make it until next summer. Until spring break, even. There was no way
Blaine wouldn't find someone else by then.
And it was fine. He was ready.
He gave Blaine all he could in that last week – all his attention, his time,
all the love he could show without spelling it out. Everything he would be
happy to give him every day for years. He planned to give him one last amazing
night, too; even without penetrative sex Kurt knew he'd make it unforgettable.
There was also a last, intimate gift for Blaine waiting in his bedside table –
a beautiful, sleek black vibrator. It was an exquisite design and the best
quality, with a note saying he hoped Blaine would think about him when using
it. Sure, it wasn't exactly what Blaine wanted, but Kurt hoped it would be
enough.
They'd have one last night together and then, early in the morning, they would
say their goodbyes and Blaine would go to Cooper's apartment to pick up his
bags and go to the airport with his brother.
Kurt would stay home and finally let himself cry.
 
Blaine stared at the box in his hands, the outside classy and discreet,
unrevealing until he opened it. He looked honestly surprised, but not in the
good way Kurt had desperately hoped for. There was confusion on his sweet face,
and a bit of hurt just peeking through the mask of politeness. That Blaine even
felt he needed to put on a mask with him hurt. But then again, Kurt had been
wearing a far thicker mask himself for a week now.
Blaine cleared his throat now, his face more controlled already, with a
pleasant smile.
"Wow, thank you. I guess that together with Seb's collection it solves the
problem of long lonely nights when I'm back home. But... can I be honest?"
He closed the box and slid it into the pocket of his jacket before looking into
Kurt's eyes, his face suddenly so open and sincere again.
"If this is your big surprise... I mean... It's great, but I really hoped you'd
give me something else tonight. Something less... material. I– Kurt, I hoped
you'd finally um... make love to me." A pause, ready to be filled with an
answer that didn't come, then a quiet, shy question. "Will you?"
There was so much vulnerability in Blaine's amber eyes, such hope, that Kurt
would have surely swayed and thrown all caution to the wind had he not taken
time to really, truly think about it. Barely able to look at Blaine, he shook
his head. Everything inside him screamed to say yes.
He couldn't.
Blaine looked like a kicked puppy now.
"But why? I don't understand. I thought you just wanted to wait until I'm
eighteen, or maybe it was supposed to be today as a really special night. But–
but I don't get it. You like it, you said so yourself. You've done that with
other guys. Why not me, Kurt? Why can't you just – Am I not good enough?"
There was a fist clenching Kurt's heart, tightening, but he just told himself
to ignore it, to power through. His hand was gentle when he put it on Blaine's
chest, over his heart, as if to prevent it from breaking. God, he'd hoped they
wouldn't have to have this conversation. Though now that he looked at it, it
seemed stupid to think he could have avoided it.
"I can't, Bee. It's different with you. You're more than good enough. You're
perfect." His voice broke slightly. "That's why I can't."
Blaine's face was pure confusion. "But why? Tell me."
Kurt took a deep breath and repeated what he'd told himself over and over
during the previous week; the other half of the truth; the one that would pass
through his throat without choking him.
"Because you deserve to have this left, Bee. You're going back home tomorrow.
You'll be back to school and your normal life, and in several weeks or months
you'll meet someone else, someone who will be right there and your age, not
miles and miles away and older than you deserve. You'll call to tell me and it
will be a sad day, but it's okay. You'll fall in love and it will be the best
feeling in the world, and you'll want to have something to share with this
lucky guy, something no one else will ever have had. I can't take that from
you, Blaine. I've had so many of your precious firsts this summer, and I'd like
to think you'll remember me fondly, but you deserve better than me for –"
The hurt on Blaine's face morphed into angry disbelief in a blink, and Kurt
took half a step backwards on instinct. His boyfriend looked scary like that,
his eyes flashing and his words hard.
"So wait, I'm some silly summer romance for you, someone to forget the moment
I'm gone? Oh god, and I thought you cared. Fuck. I'm so stupid."
He was running his fingers through his hair frantically and Kurt wanted to take
his hands, hold them, but he didn't dare. Instead, he spoke quietly.
"I do care. It's becauseI care."
Blaine shook his head with a bitter expression. "Clearly not the way I care
about you. I told you what I feel. I love you, Kurt. I love you more than I've
ever believed possible. I feel like you're my friend, my lover, my soulmate;
you're the air when I’ve lived my whole life in an oxygen tent. You're
everything, Kurt. The love of my life. Why would you think I'm going to want
anyone else?"
"Blaine, you're eighteen. You'll fall in love plenty of times more, you'll
see."
"Oh, so now I'm too young to know? To be serious? To love? Why? Were you? Have
you ever loved like that, Kurt? Do you love me? Even the slightest bit? You've
never said."
The last words were choked, a desperate demand, and Kurt felt as if his heart
was exploding. He swallowed thickly.
Tell him.
"Bee... I really, really care about you..."
Tell him now.
"I..." The rest got stuck in his throat though, fear coming in a thick, sticky
wave, suffocating. He will leave me. Everyone does.
He couldn't.
Blaine swayed as if punched, a tiny Oh forced out of his mouth, and then his
face closed off before Kurt's very eyes. He nodded formally, his voice quiet
but calm when he spoke.
"I see. Well, thank you for everything, Kurt. I think it's safe to say this is
goodbye then. Please don't try to contact me. Don't make this more painful."
With that, he turned away and left, just like that, quietly closing the door
behind him.
Kurt stood there, paralyzed. He wanted to run after Blaine, to call out, to
make him stop.
He didn't.
 
It took less than half an hour before there was a pounding on the door, and
then a furious-looking Cooper was glaring at Kurt.
"Why is my brother home and crying?"
Kurt's heart clenched, but he managed to keep his own tears at bay. Not yet.
Not until I'm alone.
"Because I refused to take his virginity."
Well, that was the short version, at least. He moved back towards the kitchen
where a solitary bottle of vodka stood on the counter, and poured himself
another shot. No diluting tonight. This was medicine; for numbing purposes, not
pleasure. It didn't need to taste good.
Coop was right behind him, confusion temporarily dampening his anger.
"Wait. But I thought you guys have been having sex all along?"
"We have. Just not that kind of sex. I refused to take the final step." Kurt
clarified. Cooper gaped at him, then frowned again. Even through the visible
discomfort with the topic, his defensiveness towards Blaine prevailed.
"Why? So now he isn't good enough for you, after –"
Kurt didn't let him finish, his eyes focused on the empty shot glass. "How long
do you think it's going to be before he meets someone else in Ohio?"
Cooper glared at him, shaken out of his building tirade, so Kurt continued
quietly. "Another boy his own age with whom he might want to have some firsts
to share?"
"He wants you, though."
That was true. Kurt took a moment to down another shot before answering. He
could feel the alcohol work its way through his system, the sharp, cutting
edges of his thoughts and feelings getting fuzzier and more bearable.
"He wants mebecause he's here now, with all the magic of the place and summer
and freedom. Because he's infatuated with an older, more worldly lover. It will
all fade in the day-to-day reality of school and show choirs and just, life."
"You can't be sure."
"I can't risk it." It was just a whisper.
Cooper sat down on the stool beside him, concerned, though anger still clipped
his words.
"So what, you're breaking up with him just in case, because he might decide,
one day, that you're not what he wants? That's cruel, Kurt. Not to mention,
stupid."
"He broke up with me." Kurt corrected softly and, ow. Not nearly numb enough.
He reached to pour himself some more vodka, but Cooper took the bottle and
pushed it out of his reach. Kurt whined, annoyed.
"Wait a second, let me get this straight. He's sobbing in his room because he
broke up with you? Well he clearly regrets it, go fix it!"
"I can't."
"Sure you can!"
Cooper was winding himself up to enthusiastic puppy mode, clearly relieved.
God, they were so similar sometimes, he and Blaine. How was Kurt going to stand
spending time with him now?
"Just go there, tell him that you're sorry and that it was a stupid-ass
decision, that of course it's his choice who he wants to give his virginity to
and – I can't believe I'm talking about my kid brother's virginity, kill me
now. And bring him here before you do anything else; no sex in my apartment.
See? Easy. Just stop being a fucking knight in shining armor. He knows what he
wants and he's old enough to make his own decisions. You said so yourself."
"Coop, I can't."
"Oh for fuck's sake, why not?" Cooper was looking at him as if he was a
stubborn child.
"Because he asked me if I love him." Kurt was surprised how easily it came out
of his mouth now, one gentle slide of slightly slurred words. Cooper's eyes
widened as he deflated visibly.
"And you don't."
"I do."
Saying it out loud for the first time was like a dam breaking. The tears came
and there was no way of stopping them now, as the love and fear and pain, all
mixed with the alcohol, slayed him. So he let himself cry. He slid down to sit
on the floor at some point, propped against the fridge, the bottle of vodka
clutched to his chest.
He knew he told Cooper to go take care of Blaine. He knew he was asking –
begging – ordering him not to tell Blaine, never to tell Blaine about Kurt's
feelings because... No, he didn't remember the because. But he knew there was
one and it seemed to have been of great importance. He just remembered Coop's
worried eyes as he promised not to tell, and his voice in the distance, talking
to someone before he went.
That was the last thing Kurt remembered when he woke up the next day, complete
with a raging headache and a serious case of carpet tongue. Slowly, he uncurled
from the fetal position and took stock of his surroundings. He was on his bed,
his pants off but the rest of his clothes untouched. There was a glass of water
and some aspirin on the bedside table, and a large plastic bowl on the floor,
just in case.
And he wasn't alone.
Sebastian was sitting propped against the headboard, in yoga pants and a t-
shirt, his iPad in hand. So Cooper had summoned reinforcements then. Kurt must
have freaked him out more that he'd thought.
He brought his wrist up to his face, trying to focus on deciphering the hour.
It was difficult, his eyes unfocused and head pounding.
"It's noon." Seb's voice came, and even quiet, it sounded scathing. "Idiot."
Noon.
Blaine was gone.
                                      ***
The first hours after Blaine left Kurt's apartment were a constant shock of
pain, every breath brushing like sandpaper against the raw, open wound
somewhere deep in his chest. Every movement was a fresh starburst of memories
because his body was Kurt's, just like his heart was, and Blaine really wanted
to be able to hate him then.
He hadn't known it was possible to hurt so much without bleeding to death.
But then, in the middle of the sleepless night, exhausted and counting away
minutes that separated him from the moment he would board the plane and leave
it all behind, Blaine remembered.
Kurt didn't love easily. He'd been burned and broken and left too many times
before to trust anyone with his heart just like that. It wasn't his fault. And
it didn't mean he didn't care.
It was all it took to forgive.
Sadly, forgiveness didn't make it hurt any less.
***** Chapter 20 *****
4 months later
Coming back to his childhood home, where he'd felt like a failure so many times
and where he had escaped as soon as he could, was not an easy feat. More than
once Cooper considered cancelling the ticket, calling Blaine to tell him that
he had to be somewhere else for Christmas, that he couldn't make it after all.
But the thought of disappointment in those huge eyes stopped him every time.
That, and Blaine's voice.
Cooper had made it his mission not to lose Bee again, to maintain and
strengthen their relationship despite the distance. Ever since his brother's
return to Ohio in August they'd been talking at least twice a week, every week.
And what he heard in Blaine's voice worried him.
Or maybe it was what he hadn't heard. The usual spark, any emotion, life,was
gone. Bee always sounded calm and composed, and that was it. The only time
Cooper had managed to spark anything more in him was when he'd mentioned Kurt
once, in September.
Blaine's voice had grown sharp then, strong.
"Don't." But it was just a second; the next instant he'd cleared his throat and
returned to the usual (so unusual for him) monotone. "Sorry. Please don't. I
don't want news about him."
He ended the sentence with barely more than a soft whisper, and Cooper had said
nothing else about Kurt from then on.
At first he'd thought it was all just a phase, a reaction to the break-up. But
as November turned into December and all he'd heard about Blaine's life had
been combinations of "I'm fine, school is great, father's difficult as usual,
I've sent out my college applications, yes, I'm sure I'm okay," Cooper could no
longer justify being too far away to do anything. He wanted to bodily shake the
kid and make him spill what was going on.
So here he was now, back at home on a Christmas Eve afternoon, and it was
stunning how much smaller and less threatening this place felt. True, he'd
changed a lot in the years since he'd last been here. He'd grown to be his own
person, no thanks to his family. Even his father with his ramrod-straight
posture and strict face no longer provoked the same fearful kind of respect
that Cooper had always associated with him. Though, had it ever been respect if
it was born from fear?
Honestly, it was freeing.
Plus, the fact that he no longer felt like a child the minute he crossed the
threshold meant that he could focus on what – or rather, who – he came here
for. And he was glad he could because he really didn't like what he saw.
It wasn't that Blaine had changed all that much. Okay, he might have grown into
his frame more, his shoulders broader now, arms more muscled. If Cooper was to
guess, he'd say Bee must have been boxing a lot since he'd returned. His hair
was slicked back with an even greater amount of the damn gel, looking
completely straight and perfectly controlled.
Everything about his brother seemed controlled, Cooper realized, now that he
thought about it. His voice, his movements, his completely fake smile. It took
Cooper several hours and countless attempts to finally make Blaine smile –
really smile, so that a bit of the spark returned to his eyes – and he wondered
how much more talking and gentle bickering and jokes were needed to make the
armor crack enough for Blaine to tell him how he really was.
 
It took another day to start. By the time Christmas dinner rolled around,
Blaine was much more relaxed and smiling at least half as much as he had during
the summer. They spent the afternoon in his room, Bee gently strumming the
guitar as he talked about the Warblers and his academic achievements, about his
college applications and the hard time their father was giving him for his
insistence to pursue music.
About his desire to come study in New York anyway.
They didn't touch any hard topics – not really. They weren't there yet. But
Cooper was staying for two more days and he hoped that by the time he went back
home, Blaine would open up enough to really talk. He could see the kid needed
it. Maybe he needed it too.
Their mom called from downstairs for them to change and come down for Christmas
dinner, and when they met by the stairs ten minutes later, Cooper was delighted
to see that Blaine was wearing one of the fancy bowties he'd gotten from Kurt.
This one was perfect for the occasion, printed in little Christmas trees and
candy canes, and combined beautifully with the white shirt and wine red velvet
jacket that Blaine had chosen to wear. His little brother looked dashing
indeed. Even his smile was back, warm and real, and suddenly Cooper felt very
happy he hadn't given up on coming here. Maybe this Christmas would be nice
after all.
The delusion lasted about two minutes.
He went to the kitchen to grab an additional serving spoon at his mom's request
and stopped in the doorway on his way back, just to enjoy the festive
atmosphere in the room. He hadn't realized that he'd missed it – the Christmas
tree and the candles, the smell of food permeating the air, and everyone there,
relaxed and cheerful. The little moments when the house felt like home. Even
their father was in a good mood, smiling.
And it was with a smile that he casually said, "Blaine, please go change out of
that faggy bowtie, would you?"
And Bee... he just sighed, his smile freezing into the fake, fixed expression
that looked so wrong on him, and got up to go back upstairs.
Cooper's jaw dropped. In three strides he was by the table, his hand on
Blaine's shoulder to stop him, his eyes focused on their father's calm face.
"What did you say to him?" He hardly recognized his voice, it was so strained
and tight with anger. It only got worse when Blaine spoke, quietly.
"It's okay, Coop, I'll just go put on a tie. I'll be right–"
"No you won't." Godhe hadn't felt this furious in years. "What do you mean
‘It's okay’? It's not okay, it's –"
Blaine answered softly enough for only Cooper to hear. "It's how it is. I'm
used to it. I'll just go change, really. Don't worry about it."
And Blaine's voice, placating when it should be angry, caused something in
Cooper to snap hard and hot, a piece that had grown and strengthened from
living in New York, from his friendship with Kurt and Sebastian, from seeing
his own brother flourishing and happy when he was accepted in a way that should
be obvious and natural.
It no longer mattered that the man in front of him was his father, that Cooper
used to fear and obey him, and cower before his judgment. He didn't owe this
man anything. And now when he looked at him, Cooper didn't see the towering
figure that cast a shadow over his own childhood with scathing remarks and
casual verbal jabs that were too little to be called abuse but enough to hurt
to the very core, every day. What he saw was a common asshole, a homophobic
jerk like many he'd encountered and despised, a man not worth his attention.
Except he was his father, Blaine's father too, and that alone gave him power
and control over them. Or... at least over Blaine. Because Cooper just realized
that he no longer gave a fuck about what his father thought. And he would be
damned if he let his brother's life be ruined by him the same way his was.
 
There was so much Cooper wanted to say when he faced their father with the full
force of his glare. It was nothing to Kurt's bitchy stare, and he entertained a
fleeting thought of his friend's reaction if he'd been here. There might be
bloodshed.
But Kurt wasn't here and Cooper said the first thing that came to mind.
"This bowtie was given to him by his boyfriend – and my best friend; a man who
made Blaine the happiest I'd ever seen him. And your choice of words is
offensive, to say the least, if not –"
Their father interrupted him, frowning at Blaine.
"You have a boyfriend? I thought we talked about ceasing this nonsense,
especially while you're under my roof."
"I don't have a boyfriend."
There were tears in Blaine's eyes when he looked at Cooper, an expression that
made him look like a small, trapped animal.
"Coop, please don't. I'll just..." He drew a shaky breath and shook Cooper's
hand off his shoulder, fleeing upstairs.
Fuck. Cooper winced. Way to go, saying exactly the wrong thing. It wasn't
helping, dammit.
With Blaine gone, their father's icy glare focused on him instead.
"I don't like your tone, son."
Oh, look, but the anger was still there, burning in his chest. And Cooper was
not going to deny it.
"Well I don't like your attitude, father."
God, it felt good to say it at last, to stand up to this man the way he'd
dreamed countless times he would, but never dared. Well, he was done holding
himself back.
The man stood up, towering over him.
"You better watch your mouth, son. Did you forget who you are talking to?"
Cooper snorted humorlessly. "Like I could forget. Always the same tone, the
same demeaning comments. It's so very you, I couldn't mistake it for anyone
else. And now you've added homophobic slurs, too. How nice of you."
"I'm helping him grow up at last. He has to become a man at some point. I won't
have my son be a damn fairy who thinks he can feed a family on music."
Cooper arched an eyebrow, surprised.
"Oh, so you accept that he'll have a family one day, that's something."
His father looked at him as if he had grown a second head.
"Of course he'll have a family, a proper wife and children like a man should.
Like you should, too."
Oh. Right. And for a moment he'd actually thought...
"And you think it works like that, that he'll just go and do what you tell him
to."
There was a shrug, as if everything was clear and settled already.
"He's a smart kid. Misguided, but smart. He'll come around. Just like he will
about college. By the way, I want you to support me when we talk about that
tonight. You made the right decision with your education, even though you tried
to rebel at first, too, and look where you are now. I know Blaine will listen
when you convince him that business is the only way to go."
Cooper spluttered, hardly able to believe his ears. "No I won't! Are you
kidding? Why would I do that? He loves music and he's so talented! You can't
force him to give up his dream."
His father actually snorted. "Dreams are for fools, and of course I can. Who
pays for his damn overpriced school?"
Cooper felt all blood leave his face. "You wouldn't."
He hated how calm his father looked, with that little smirk of satisfaction on
his face. "I will if I have to. But I don't think it's going to be necessary.
When he has to choose between transferring to a public school come January and
going to a respectable business school after graduation, I know what he's going
to choose."
The fury was choking Cooper now, hot and bubbling, and he snapped. "I will pay
for his school if you won't."
A spark of an idea, a shock of instant decision, and he took a deep breath
before the dive.
"Actually..."
Cooper had always considered himself a coward. He wasn't proud of it, but he
just didn't have the kind of courage needed to stand up to people. He'd
accepted that his was the easier, if less admirable way of adapting to
circumstances.
Which was why his next words truly surprised him.
The discussion that followed made him feel more certain about what he'd just
done than he'd ever been about anything. This was what he knew how to do –
presenting an offer, negotiating conditions, sealing the deal. He was good at
it, and he had his ways to get to an agreement. Now he only needed one final
yes.
He found Blaine in his room, curled up on the bed, worrying the fabric of the
bowtie in his hands. He looked so small like this, so vulnerable, his lashes
still wet and his hair disheveled, and Cooper's heart broke for him. All that
time, years like this. And Cooper hadn't known; he'd never pushed enough to
learn. He'd preferred to live in the blissful ignorance, comfortable in his
safe little world in New York, happy to escape the mess that was his family
home.
God, he'd been so selfish.
"I'm so sorry, Bee. Please forgive me."
He meant so much more than just today's events.
"It was a bad idea." Blaine's voice was rough with tears. "I should never have
asked you to come. Now you'll go home and he'll be vicious and mean for days,
and I'll never hear the end of it." He turned to look at Cooper and it was so
fucked up that Bee was angry at him. "You don't just come and stir the pot. I
have to live in this house, Coop."
Oh, right.
"Actually, you don't. Come live with me."
Blaine turned away from him. "Not funny."
"I'm not joking. Come to New York with me."
Blaine sat up now and shrugged dismissively, but at least he was looking at
Cooper again.
"You know it's not possible. Not before college."
Cooper put his hand on Blaine's, putting every bit of conviction in his tone.
"I don't want you to stay here. I don't want you to have to hear this shit
every day. I don't want to go back to New York and wonder if it won't break
you. Please come home with me."
There was a faint glimmer of hope in Blaine's eyes even as he shook his head.
"I'd have to change schools. In the middle of senior year."
"Yes."
"They'll never allow it."
"They already did."
Cooper had to smile at the way Blaine's jaw dropped. It took a moment before he
could speak again.
"He won't pay for me to go there."
"I know. I will. Please say yes."
A few deep breaths, a handful of seconds that felt like hours as Cooper waited.
Blaine's lip trembled.
"Okay."
"Okay?" Cooper couldn't contain a wide grin.
"Okay, I'll go with you."
"Tomorrow?"
"What?" It was almost a squeak.
"Okay, the day after tomorrow. We'll need a day to get it all sorted out. Now
come on, put the bowtie back on and let's go eat that dinner. It would be a
shame to waste good food."
 
A phone call to Sebastian followed right after dinner. Cooper knew it was
Christmas. He knew it was rude to call with anything but well wishes today. He
also knew Seb wouldn't mind.
He didn't have to explain much. Just the highlights had Sebastian spewing an
enraged string of profanities that quickly led to apologizing to someone in the
background. When Cooper asked if he knew anyone who could help find a good
school for Blaine that would take him now, no matter what the cost, Sebastian
didn't hesitate.
"Yeah, I just might. Give me a little while, I'll call you back."
Cooper expected ‘a little while’ to last a few days though, not ten minutes.
"Okay, done. It will cost you, it's one of the top high schools in New York,
but somehow I don't think it's a problem."
"It isn't, but... how?"
Sebastian laughed, clearly delighted.
"Cooper dearest, you called in the middle of the famous annual Smythe family
Christmas party. It's the crème de la crème here right now. You couldn't have
chosen a better moment when it comes to connections. All it took was
approaching the right woman and telling her the sad, moving story of an
astonishingly talented boy needing an emergency removal from a homophobic
family environment. She's the dean there. And she's here with her wife. Any
other questions?"
"Um... I... yeah, just give me a moment –"
Seb chuckled. "I'll give you more than that, sweet pea. She'll mail me all the
papers and requirements tomorrow so I'll call and tell you everything then. It
isChristmas, after all."
"God, I'd kiss you if you were here right now." He couldn't believe it; the
decision was made not two hours ago and already almost everything was in place
for Blaine's relocation.
Sebastian sighed dramatically in his ear. "Damn. What a waste of a good kiss.
Save it for me."
"I promise."
                                      ***
Blaine couldn't sleep that night, overwhelmed with everything that had
happened. And yet, as he was tossing and turning in his suddenly uncomfortable
bed, he couldn't shake off the feeling that it was all a dream: Cooper standing
up to their father, for him. The offer to move to New York, and not in six or
eight months – now. Sebastian's phone call with news that he already had a
place at a new school – a good school, great even, apparently. In New York.
He was going to New York, to stay with Cooper. To be free.
He couldn't believe it. It was too good to happen to him, too much like his
most secret dreams coming true.
Everyone was long asleep, the house completely quiet around him, when Blaine
finally gave up and did something he hadn’t tried since he was six.
Cooper no longer had his own room here, obviously; it had been turned into a
guest room years ago. But it was in this particular guest room that he slept
now, and sneaking out across the hall on his bare feet, Blaine felt the same
old mixture of anxiety and need for comfort that had always lead him to his
older brother's room when he was a kid. The door opened and closed soundlessly,
and even though the layout of the room was different (not to mention, it was a
lot cleaner), Cooper's sleeping form brought the same feeling of safeit had
back then.
Of course, this was where the similarities ended. As a toddler and then a
preschooler, Blaine used to sneak into Coop's room after a nightmare or an
upsetting day, worming his way under the covers into the comforting warmth of
another human being, and falling asleep. Their parents had never been the
hugging kind. Their father believed it made boys soft when they were doted
upon, and he'd been angry every time he found Blaine cuddled to his brother's
side in the morning.
But Blaine couldn't help it; sometimes he just needed to be close to somebody –
his skin itching like it was starved for human contact. That was why, years
later, he loved the simple pleasure of sleeping with Kurt so much.
Okay, no. No thinking about Kurt.
Blaine wasn't six anymore, though; they were both more or less adult. It felt
awkward to even be here with Cooper. So he just sat gingerly on the edge of the
bed and whispered, "Coop?"
The fact that Cooper opened his eyes immediately was a proof that he was having
a restless night, too. Usually he slept like a log.
Coop blinked blearily and burrowed deeper under the covers to keep the winter
chill of the house away. His voice was a little raspy and a lot concerned when
he spoke.
"What's wrong, Bee?"
Blaine really didn't mean to sound desperate – in fact, he was aiming for cool
and nonchalant. But his inner blurter was ahead of him.
"Please tell me I haven't dreamed it all."
He expected Coop to laugh, but his brother just moved closer to the wall,
making room for him in the double bed, and raised the corner of the comforter.
"Hop in." When Blaine hesitated, Cooper chuckled humorlessly. "You still
remember that last time he found you here, huh? I guess if he came in now, he'd
have a plethora of comments about us being inappropriately close. I'm almost
tempted to see how creative he'd get."
Blaine let out a choked noise and Cooper grew serious immediately.
"But I won't. Come on, it's cold. I wake up at dawn anyway, I'll kick you out
to your room to start packing, deal?"
Blaine nodded and settled in, the bed warm and comfy.
"So... I am going with you?"
"You're absolutely coming with me. I promise." Coop answered solemnly.
"So it means you're going to be my guardian now?"
"Technically... I mean, yes. We'll see how it goes."
Blaine had to smile at the self-deprecating note in his brother's voice.
"You did fine in the summer and I promise not to be a menace. So... do I get to
study what I want?"
He was pretty sure Cooper wouldn't try and control his college choices, but
after months of battles about music versus business (well, music versus
anything, really) he had to make sure. The comforter moved as Coop shrugged.
"Well, I'd rather you didn't study black magic, maybe, but it's your life and
your choices. You know what you want and I'll support it. We'll talk about the
financial side of college at some point since I may not be able to pay for it
completely, but that's for the future. For now, I just want you to focus on
graduating and getting into the school you want. And... to be happy," he added
softly and Blaine felt tears sting his eyes again.
It was dark. He let them flow.
"Thank you." It was all he could say, and he hoped Coop understood just how
much it all meant to him.
They lay in silence for a long moment but even when Blaine's tears dried, sleep
still didn't come. There was one more thing he really wanted to know.
"Coop?"
"Hm?"
"How's Kurt?"
Cooper hesitated, as if deciding what to say. Or maybe he was just falling
asleep when Blaine spoke.
"He's been... busy. The line of clothes he designed is out now and selling
phenomenally. They've offered him a lot of new opportunities at the company, so
he quit his day job at the theater and only works from home now."
Blaine smiled. He'd always known Kurt would make it big at La Nuit. He cleared
his throat before asking quietly.
"Does he... has he been dating?"
Cooper turned to him in the dark. "Bee... don't do this to yourself."
"Tell me." He already knew he wouldn't like the answer but suddenly, it was all
he could think of.
"He... there have been a few guys. As far as I know."
"... oh."
He really shouldn't have expected any different but still, it stung. What was
he thinking, really? Well, he knew what. Some small, silly part of him kept
hoping that even though Kurt had never admitted he loved him, maybe – just
maybe – his I really care about youhad meant just that. That Kurt was just too
afraid to call it love, but he'd felt it nonetheless. So many of his actions
this past summer had suggested it.
Well, Blaine had been deluding himself. Again. And it was time to let go.
"Coop? Don't tell him I'm moving." He almost managed to keep his voice steady.
"But –"
"Please. Don't tell him. Ask Sebastian not to, as well. I... It will be enough
of a challenge with the move and the new school. I can't deal with my feelings
if I see him, too. Please?"
Cooper looked like he wanted to say something but in the end, he just nodded.
"If you're sure that's what you want."
"I'm sure."
 
The next two days were absolutely crazy. There was plenty of packing, choosing
what to take with him and what to leave behind – an important choice,
considering he wouldn't be coming back. The next time he came here, whenever it
might be, he would be a guest. His home, his room – these words would no longer
be associated with Westerville,Ohio.
The resulting stack of boxes was too large to take with them, and Cooper ended
up arranging a moving company to transport it. It would arrive in New York a
day after they did.
Dalton was closed for Christmas and there wasn't much that could be done about
it, but their father surprised them by saying he'd go and take care of the
transfer formalities as soon as it opened after the break. Now that the
decision had been made, he was shockingly polite to both of them, accommodating
even, and not once in two days did he utter any of his biting comments. It kept
Blaine wondering what exactly Cooper had told him.
Still, he wouldn't miss his father. He was sad to leave his mom, and she shed a
few tears too while helping him pack, but the truth was, they were both more
than ready for this day. It had always been clear that Blaine would move away
for college and the few months didn't really change much. At least Blaine knew
that she would try and keep in contact with him.
Their flight was on the evening of the 27th and that morning Blaine had managed
to gather half of the Warblers – those that hadn't gone away for Christmas –
for coffee and goodbyes. This was the hardest part of all, it turned out.
Leaving his friends so suddenly, and in the middle of the competition season,
too – Blaine's sense of responsibility kept him apologizing for most of the
hour they had, but they understood, especially those who were close enough to
know about his family's attitude. They sent him away with smiles and wishes of
good luck, and promises to update him with news and show recordings by email.
Wes wrote down the combination to Blaine's locker and promised to empty it and
send the few personal things Blaine kept in there to New York.
Finally, everything was ready and with one last look at the house, they started
towards Columbus. Huddled in the passenger seat of Coop's rented car, Blaine
felt dazed, the amount of changes that had come in a mere three days too sudden
and overwhelming. It still didn't compute fully.
It was only when the plane took off that Blaine let out a breath and realized
he'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop all along. For Cooper to change
his mind. Or their parents. For a phone call saying that no, transferring now
wouldn't be possible after all. To wake up from this strange, wonderful dream.
But it hadn't happened, and it wouldn't now. He was on his way to New York.
***** Chapter 21 *****
Contrary to popular belief, Cooper wasn't completely oblivious or so obsessed
with his job that he saw nothing beyond it. He just tended to focus solely on
things that mattered at any given time, and ignored everything else.
Lately, what mattered was his baby brother.
At first glance, Blaine was doing well – now. There'd been a period of
adjustment back in January, with both of them trying to find their places in
the new situation. Soon though, Blaine had adapted to the changed circumstances
both at home and at school. His grades were excellent, he got on well with
people, even went on a few dates. In the three months that passed since he'd
moved to New York, he acted content and thriving.
Acted being the key word.
Blaine may not have realized, but Cooper saw more than he let on. Like how
lonely his brother really was. Blaine had no close friends here – Kurt was out
of the picture, Meg rarely had time now with all of her extracurriculars, and
no one at school cared to really get close to the new kid mere months before
graduation. There was a show choir there, but they didn't let new people in so
late in the school year – or so Blaine said.
And he didn't even have his usual comfort of a piano. It was the one thing he
loved that he couldn't take with him when he left Westerville. And since it
would require major remodeling to fit a piano in their apartment, they'd
decided that for now, Blaine would practice at school. Still, it wasn't the
same as having it literally at his fingertips at any time, and Cooper knew it.
He also knew that Blaine still missed Kurt. He knew exactly how often the smile
on his face was just a mask put on to keep Cooper from worrying. He saw the
melancholy creep into Blaine's eyes when he thought no one was looking. Cooper
would never break the kid's confidence by going through the journal he knew he
kept, but he didn't have to. The number of times he'd heard Blaine call Kurt's
name in his sleep was enough to know that he still hadn't gotten over him.
And yet, he'd never once asked Cooper about him. He hadn't mentioned Kurt's
name in a conversation since that night back in December.
If Blaine wanted to know, Cooper would tell him all about the big changes in
Kurt's life, what with him signing a contract with La Nuit to be one of their
permanent designers. He would mention how much Kurt worked now, always taking
on more, and how tired and drawn he seemed whenever he managed to make time to
meet his friends. He would casually drop in the random observation about how
sad Kurt's eyes always were in spite of his dreams coming true, or about his
reluctance to date anymore, supposedly because of lack of time. He'd tell his
brother that Kurt missed him too.
As it was, he didn't.
But the whole situation was exhausting! Those two idiots were both still in
love, and no matter how furious Cooper had been at the mere thought of them
being together back when he first learned about it, things had changed. It was
high time they did something to end this infuriating impasse, if only so that
Cooper could get back to his usual efficiency at work.
Really, enough was enough.
So one sunny Saturday at the beginning of April he did something that he wished
someone had done for him and Amita, years ago: He interfered. It was just one
sentence dropped carelessly over lunch with his two friends. A slip of the
tongue, of course.
"Okay, sorry guys, I gotta go, I promised Bee I'd make dinner today for a
change."
That was enough.
Kurt's eyes grew wide, but he made a decent attempt at sounding neutral.
"Oh, is Blaine visiting?"
Seb chuckled, not even looking away from tapping something on his phone. "I
wonder how you’ll explain this shit now."
Cooper pretended to be horrified. "Fuck. I wasn't supposed to... Damn, can you
forget I said that?"
"No." Oh, good. He'd hoped Kurt wouldn't just let it pass.
"Shit. I promised I wouldn't tell you, but... looks like I already did. Oh
well. Blaine lives with me now. Full time."
"Oh." Kurt took a shaky breath and forced his face into composure. It was so
quick Cooper wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't known him so well. "What about
his school?"
"He transferred, right after Christmas. It was a bit of a challenge but Seb
helped –" Cooper didn't miss the vicious look Kurt threw Sebastian, who just
shrugged, "and we managed to pull it off. I couldn't just leave him back in
Ohio. I hate that I had for so long before."
Concern furrowed Kurt's brow. "Your father...?"
"Yeah. I promised Bee I'd come home for Christmas and... fuck, if only I'd
known earlier... I just couldn't leave him in that poisoned house a day longer.
No matter what."
He cleared his throat, which was tightening again. Blaine was safe now, but
Cooper would never stop feeling guilty that it had taken him so long to get his
shit together. The emotions must have shown on his face because alarm flared in
Kurt's eyes.
"Did he –" He didn't have to finish; Cooper understood. His own mind had gone
the same path first.
"No, he never hit Blaine. I asked. He just... can you imagine living in the
atmosphere of daily, casual homophobia? At your own home?" He sighed and shook
his head. "I didn't know it was that bad. Bee never told me."
"What about your mother? You never talk about her. Does she share your father's
views?"
Cooper shook his head. "Not really, but she wouldn't do anything about it. She
loves Blaine – she loves both of us, I guess – and she would try to make him
feel better in her own little ways, but she wouldn't intervene. She was raised
to believe it's not a woman's place to argue with her husband's decisions, you
know? He's the man of the family, which means he's always right."
"I'm glad you took him in, then." Kurt was trying – and failing – not to let
the magnitude of emotions shaking him seep out. "I'd ask you to tell Blaine hi
from me, but clearly it wouldn't be welcome. Not that I blame him." He focused
on finishing his coffee, then looked at his watch with an exaggerated surprise.
"Oh, I guess I should be going too. I promised Julian I'd send him the new
sketches by Monday morning and they're still not ready."
The minute he was out the door, Seb looked at Cooper with a raised eyebrow and
shook his head.
"Meddler." Cooper only shrugged, and Sebastian smiled wistfully. "I totally
won, by the way. Remember our bet? If this isn't our little Kurt in love, I
don't know what is. Still needs to take his head out of his ass and fix things,
but, loooove. Now pay up."
Cooper went home a hundred dollars poorer that afternoon. He didn't mind in the
slightest.
 
All his meddling seemed to be for naught, though.
Assuming Kurt wouldn't last long before calling Blaine under some pretext,
Cooper had come clean to his brother as soon as he returned home – well, half-
clean, maybe, leaving out the part of it being far from an accident. It was
only fair to let Blaine be prepared. He expected anger, with a dash of
excitement, maybe. Instead, there was only a shrug before Blaine went back to
studying.
The way he stopped leaving his phone everywhere and startled every time it rang
gave him away, though.
Still, days and then weeks passed and Kurt didn't try to contact Blaine even
once. What's more, he stopped having time to meet with Coop and Sebastian. He
claimed he was busy designing, sewing, travelling to Boston every week; always
talking about work and Julian. Constantly, Julian.
And as Blaine's smile kept getting weaker and less frequent, Cooper cursed
himself for interfering. He'd only made it worse.
                                      ***
Kurt was slowly and deliberately drowning himself in work.
It started small, as a coping technique. Alcohol was neither practical nor fun
in the long run, and he quickly discovered that going back to casual hook-ups –
fighting fire with fire, so to speak – was no longer appealing to him.
He had to do something else. If he hadn't, he would have too much time to
notice how much he hated coming home to an empty apartment and waking up alone.
To reflect on the fact that nothing seemed to make him happy lately.
To admit that Cooper's latest revelation was like a punch to the gut, because
it only confirmed what Kurt had been trying not to believe all along: that
Blaine really wanted nothing to do with him anymore. That Kurt had screwed up
and there was no turning back.
So he worked.
Fortunately, it turned out La Nuit thrived on people like him – young, talented
and determined to succeed. They didn’t treat his avalanches of ideas as a
threat to their regular designers, like some other fashion houses might. On the
contrary – they appreciated his work and encouraged him to follow his fashion
instinct, which proved pretty damn good more than once. Julian, who'd become
his company "sponsor" and greatest supporter, couldn't stop wondering that Kurt
hadn't been discovered earlier, and had made it his personal mission to see him
succeed.
They worked at some projects together and as months went by, they'd become
friends. Kurt had even stayed overnight at Julian's a couple of times when he'd
been too tired to drive back home after a designing/brainstorming session in
Boston. Julian's wife, an adorable tiny creature (with a huge belly right now,
as they were expecting twins in June), had virtually adopted Kurt on the spot
and kept trying to fatten him up every time they'd met.
As time passed, Kurt worked more and more. By the end of April, he had
virtually no free time left – socializing got cut first, then proper cooking
and any sleep he could spare; but it was okay. He had the job of his dreams
where he could work from home, in his own time and on his own terms. He was
doing what he loved, for a company he'd admired for years, and it looked like
he was on a fast track to the top.
So why wasn't he happy, dammit?
Of course, he knew why. He could pretend all he wanted, work until he dropped;
he could hide from his thoughts and feelings, but he would never be able to run
away from the mark on his own heart – the one that Blaine had left despite all
of Kurt's defenses and precautions, with just the softest touch, tender,
sincere words and a smile that made Kurt dizzy.
He knew he couldn't escape, but it didn't mean he'd stop trying. He wouldn't,
because there was no alternative. And if this was his punishment for being
stupid, so be it.
Even if he was no longer sure which particular stupidity he meant: letting love
in or pushing Blaine away. Probably both.
Working from home and on his own schedule had a lot of benefits and a few
drawbacks, one of them being the fact that his body clock was completely messed
up now. Usually, he just worked until he crashed, no matter what time it was,
slept for a few hours and then woke up to work again. Sometimes he couldn't
fall asleep. Sometimes he forgot to. Sometimes he found himself sitting on the
floor, desperate and aching, with a phone in his hand and his finger hovering
over Blaine's number, until he'd finally deleted it during one such night – to
prevent himself from going against Blaine's wishes and trying to push himself
back into his life.
The rational part of his brain kept telling him he couldn't live like this much
longer, that he should take better care of himself or he was going to make
himself sick. But then the reality check would come: who cared? He had no one
to motivate him to take care of himself. So what if he died younger because of
his unhealthy lifestyle? At least he'd leave behind fabulous designs and a name
that would hopefully be widely recognized by fashion-conscious people
everywhere.
If only the exhaustion didn't affect the connection between his brain and his
hand, he pondered one May morning, leaving his apartment to go to the nearest
coffeeshop. He hoped that the walk (and coffee, and ooh maybe a bagel) would
help him clear his head and stay awake long enough to finish the newest batch
of sketches. He had a fantastic dress idea – lace, velvet and intricate silver
details – that he really wanted to draw out and save before he crashed.
He was running over the details of the design in his head as he entered the
coffeeshop, considering sketching particular parts rather than the complete
dress, when a familiar figure caught his eye and he turned to look, distracted.
And froze, rooted to the spot.
Kurt hadn't seen him in eight and a half months – and it didn't matter at all.
His heart flew, soared just as swift and high as it had back in August, if not
more so. He felt something deep down give way, something fall back into place,
and he was too surprised and too exhausted to try and fight it. He could only
stand and stare at Blaine's profile as he waited in line a few feet from Kurt,
unaware of his presence.
Standing_and_just_breathing,_feeling_everything_suddenly_settle_softly_and
perfectly,_Kurt_wondered_why_the_hell_it_had_seemed_so_complicated. Why he'd
fought it so, when it was right and obvious and easy. Why hadn't anyone smacked
him on the head and told him some things don't need planning or thinking or
having control over. Some things just are. Sometimes all you have to do is
surrender.
He didn't know when he moved, didn't even realize he had, but then Blaine
finished ordering his coffee and turned, and suddenly they were face to face,
Blaine's golden eyes wide, and Kurt could only breathe out, "Bee."
                                      ***
Blaine had been wondering how he would act, what he'd feel when he inevitably
met Kurt again one day. Between both of them playing important roles in
Cooper's life and how close they lived to each other now, it was bound to
happen sooner or later. And since Blaine's heart stubbornly refused to accept
that any relationship they'd had was over, he anxiously expected that moment to
be awkward, painful or/and terrifying.
What he hadn't expected was his brain completely ignoring the time and distance
and everything that had happened since they'd last seen each other, and jumping
right to loving, caring mode. But he couldn't help it, especially with Kurt
looking so... not-okay; paler than usual and clearly exhausted, with dark
circles under his eyes, his hair mussed and a streak of what looked like
graphite dust on his cheekbone. All Blaine's instincts, all his feelings kicked
in immediately and he barely managed to stop himself from just reaching and
smoothing his fingers over Kurt's cheek.
Instead, he grabbed a wooden stirrer to have something to play with.
"Kurt. It's good to see you."
And it was true; there was no awkwardness, but when had there ever been any
between them? It felt like they had just parted yesterday and now everything
clicked back into place, seamlessly.
"You're up already? Or still? It's barely 7:30. Have you even slept today?"
There was a slow, dazed smile spreading over Kurt's face and really, how could
Blaine have believed that he was able to live his life without this man in it?
As a friend if nothing else, but there. Clearly he'd been a deluded idiot but
he would definitely make sure to fix this mistake now.
Kurt spoke at last, his eyes still wide and bright even though his voice
sounded rough and breathless.
"I could definitely use some rest but... have coffee with me?"
Blaine glanced at the clock over the counter and winced. "I can't, I've got to
run or I'll be late for class, but... tomorrow? I should be home around 4:30.
Come over after that and we'll go from there?"
Kurt beamed. "Perfect. See you tomorrow then."
                                      ***
In the end Kurt didn't get his coffee or a bagel. He just went home, grinning
like a loon, and faceplanted on the bed. He was out like a light and when he
woke up, it was nineteen hours later and he felt like a new man. A new, hopeful
man.
***** Chapter 22 *****
Once Kurt was up and showered, the hours spread before him like barren land
that needed to be crossed before he could see Blaine again.
He couldn't focus on anything. He broke a cup while making coffee, nearly
walked into a bike on his way to pick up some groceries, and then, while trying
to distract himself with preparing some samples for Julian, he sewed right
through his fingertip – what was he, an amateur? Finally, he gave up and
decided to go wait at Cooper's – well, the Anderson brothers', now – apartment.
It was barely half past three when he ran up the stairs to burn some of his
nervous energy, but he had his sketchbook and his iPad. He could wait. He knew
Cooper wouldn't mind if he just let himself in, and he hoped Blaine wouldn't,
either.
The first sound hit him the moment he closed the door behind him, and Kurt
froze. Blaine’s voice. It was unmistakable. Time may have passed, but the
sounds Blaine made in the most intimate moments had never faded from Kurt's
memory.
For some reason, Blaine was home already.
The first moan was followed by another, and then more, in quick succession, and
Kurt stood there, knowing full well that he should leave as quietly as possible
to grant Blaine his privacy, and never, ever mention he'd been here. His body
had other ideas, though. He was rooted to the spot, arousal spiking his blood
and burning his cheeks – until he realized that Blaine may not be alone in
there.
He should have thought about it earlier, really – it was so obvious. Blaine had
been in New York for months now, he was gorgeous and so very special. Why
wouldn't he have a boyfriend? And when he'd agreed to meet Kurt, neither of
them said anything about their relationship, past or future. For all he knew,
Blaine thought it was just two old friends meeting for coffee. And here Kurt
was, high on false hopes and ready to apologize, explain, confess. He secretly
dreamed of forgiveness and even the tiniest chance to fix it, to make things
right again.
God, he would smack his forehead if there was a way to do it soundlessly. He'd
been so stupid. Pathetic, really, hoping that Blaine had waited for him all
this time.
He had his hand on the doorknob, waiting for another louder sound to cover the
squeak of the hinges, when he heard it, breathless and desperate.
"Kurt, fuck, yeah. Just like that. Fuck me, oh god, yes, yes, so good,
Kurrrrrrt–"
None of his actions afterward were a conscious decision – not taking the few
steps towards Blaine's room, not pushing the half-open door. But there he was,
and the picture he saw may have stopped his heart for a moment.
Blaine was on all fours, naked on the bed, his delicious round ass pointed
towards the door. And he was fucking himself on a large purple dildo, much
bigger than the one Kurt had given him. This one was actually closer to Kurt's
own size, yet it was sliding in and out of Blaine's stretched hole with an ease
that made Kurt's head spin and his brain go blank.
He heard a whimper, and before he realized it was his own, Blaine was
scrambling to get under the covers, squeaking "Cooper!" in a panicked,
breathless voice.
It was only when he was covered up to his neck, his face a furious shade of
red, that Blaine actually looked at the door – and covered his eyes, mortified.
"OhmygodKurt."
Kurt still hadn't regained his composure though, too much blood flowing south
at once, because the only thing his mouth thought to produce was "Yes. Please,
I'll do anything you want. I'll fuck you right now if you want to, I –"
He broke because Blaine was looking at him with wide eyes, and some tiny, still
functioning part of his brain told Kurt that it wasn't a yes, pleaselook. Just
a beat of silence, and then Blaine spoke, surprisingly calm and collected,
considering that he still had a rather large dildo up his ass.
"Thank you, but I don't think it would be uh... appropriate. You were right,
last year. I don't want to give it up to someone who doesn't love me, just for
fun."
It felt like a punch in the face, hard and unexpected, and the worst thing was,
Kurt knew he deserved it. It was enough to make his brain kick-start again, and
his cheeks burned with the sudden realization of what he'd just done. Barging
in like this, and saying those things to Blaine... oh god. He really couldn't
have done worse, could he?
"But I –" He swallowed thickly and shook his head. No. There was no way to save
this situation, no use trying. No coffee dates or talking or confessions could
come after this. "No, you're right. I was a moron, and now it's too late. I'm
sorry I came in like that, I won't do it again. I'll just go and –"
"Too late for what?" Blaine's voice was small and soft all of a sudden, though
he was trying to keep his face indifferent.
Kurt took a deep breath, trying to will away the sting behind his eyes. Of
course he would just come and screw it up all over again.
But Blaine was waiting for an answer. God, get a grip, Hummel. At least give
him that.
"Too late... for us? For me to tell you how infinitely sorry I am, for trying
to make it up to you, for confessing..." he trailed off.
"Kurt?" It was barely a whisper and the hopeful note in Blaine's voice made
Kurt's heart pick up speed.
"I... I was an idiot."
"Are you saying..."
"I'm saying that I love you, that I have loved you all along, but I was afraid
and–"
"Kurt." Calm and quiet, but firm, and Kurt took a deep, shaky breath.
"Yes."
"Let me... I need a little time. Let me call you when I'm ready for this
conversation, okay?"
Okay then. Was a little time a day? A few? A week maybe? More? Or was it just a
gentle way to tell him to go away? Whatever it was, it was not Kurt's call.
He nodded and turned away.
With a shaky “I'm so sorry,” he left.
 
Kurt managed to get home, kick off his shoes, go to the bathroom to wash his
hands, glare at himself in the mirror, make coffee and then abandon it in favor
of slumping in the window seat and moping (because really, what had he been
thinking?), before there was a soft knock on the door.
Whoever it was, they'd have to go away because Kurt was sodone with people. He
wasn't a people person, he'd just decided. He'd shut himself in his studio from
now on, surround himself with sketchbooks and fabric, order groceries online
and live a solitary life, saving the humanity from having to endure his awkward
and destructive behavior.
Honestly. He just didn't deserve a relationship if all he could do to the man
he loved was either hurt or embarrass him.
The knocking came again – once, twice – and then Kurt heard the last voice he
expected, muffled by the door.
"Kurt? Are you here?"
By the time Kurt jumped up and got to the door, his phone started to ring, and
he pulled the door open to find Blaine there, real and gorgeous and fully
clothed, thank god, with a phone by his ear. He clicked it off and the ringing
stopped, and then he was smiling shyly at Kurt.
"Hi. I was thinking... how about we have that coffee now? Here, preferably? I
think we need to talk."
"Um. Sure. Hi. Of course. Come on in." God, what was it with the incoherence
today?
By the time they maneuvered their way through apologizing profusely (Kurt, for
walking in like that and not having the sense to leave immediately) and
assurances that it was fine (Blaine, though he must have been just saying that
because how could this have been fine?), the coffee was ready and the cups
placed on the kitchen table. They sat down opposite each other in silence and
for a moment, Kurt could just look into those eyes, relearning every hue, every
swirl of color. Then, remembering that he should probably say something, he
cleared his throat.
"I was certain you'd never want to see me again after I barged in like that."
He felt himself blush and Blaine chuckled, a quiet, slightly embarrassed sound.
"Um, no. I just thought it would be awkward to ask you to wait in the living
room until I got myself more... presentable." His cheeks were pink now, too. He
looked beautiful.
"Oh. Right. Good thinking. I mean... god, I'm so sorry, Blaine, really. I'll
just... give the keys back to you now, or to Coop next time I see him, I'll –"
"Kurt." One soft word, but it was enough to cut his slightly hysterical
rambling. Feeling as if something was unraveling in his chest; dizzy with
anticipation or anxiety, or both, Kurt took a deep breath.
"Yes. I'm sorry, I'm shutting up now."
Blaine looked at him, so open and serious, and only the way his hands fidgeted
with the coffee cup betrayed that he was nervous at all.
"I need to know something, okay? And please be honest with me."
"Always, from now on. I swear."
"How much of what you said back there, earlier, was because you walked in on me
getting off to a fantasy of you?" Blaine's blush was even deeper now, but his
eyes never left Kurt's.
A part of this sentence had a potential to send blood away from where it was
really needed right now, so Kurt hastily filed the thought away for later.
"None." He said with conviction. "Well, I mean, the way I said it had plenty to
do with that, because I lost my filter for a moment. But I meant everything I
said, Blaine. I do love you. I've loved you for a long time. I hoped I'd get to
tell you today."
Blaine drew a shaky breath, a flash of pain shadowing his features for a
moment. Kurt wanted to reach for him and kiss it away, but he knew it wasn't
his place – not anymore, probably not ever again. And he only had himself to
blame.
"You broke my heart." It was barely more than a whisper, but it was filled with
so much hurt that the tight clench of Kurt's throat came back with a vengeance.
"I know. And I'm so very, very sorry. There's not a day I don't hate myself for
it."
Blaine shook his head sharply. "Don't. I love you too much to let you hate
yourself."
There was not enough air in the room all of a sudden. "You... do? Still?"
Blaine shrugged, a shadow of a smile appearing. "Of course. Did you think I
could just stop? I can't. And believe me, there were moments when I really
wanted to. It doesn't work that way."
"I know."
The world was getting blurry and Kurt didn't even care anymore when the tears
finally overflowed and ran, silent and warm, down his face. They sat in silence
for a while, until Blaine spoke again.
"For a long time, I kept hoping you'd call me. Why didn't you call me? Why are
you only telling me now?"
Kurt wiped at his face distractedly. "I wanted to. Dozens of times, I sat with
the phone in my hand, fighting with myself. I deleted your number eventually,
because it was too tempting. You asked me not to make it harder for you, to
stay away, so I wasn't going to go against that."
"I did?" Blaine looked honestly surprised. "I don't really remember what I said
back then. I was a bit... overwhelmed. That explains a lot, though." He took a
deep, shaky breath. "So when did you decide you wanted to tell me after all?
When did you realize that– um–" He paused, as if afraid saying it out loud
would somehow break the spell.
Kurt wanted to look away, suddenly shy, but couldn't.
"I regretted not telling you I loved you the second you closed the door behind
you last summer. But I was too afraid to act on it. After James, and a few
others before him... I thought I'd rather be lonely than hurt like that ever
again."
"So what changed?" Those big golden eyes were so warm and curious, mesmerizing.
"I've tasted life without you. And I hated it. I still hate it. I ended up
lonely and heartbroken. I guess it serves me right for being a coward."
His voice broke a little on the last word and oh, here were the tears again.
Fuck, was he turning back into his teenage self? He'd long learned how to
control the waterworks and yet –
But then Blaine touched his hand; just a fleeting brush of warm fingers, his
face so focused and solemn, and Kurt shivered. This was the moment of truth,
wasn't it? This was where Blaine would tell him he'd waited too long, that it
was over.
"Kurt, no one can swear a relationship will last forever – youcan't swear it
yourself. People and circumstances change sometimes, even I am aware of that."
"I know." Rationally, he'd always known. But his heart had refused to accept
anything less, before.
"So if you want a promise of till death do us part, no matter what happens, I
can't give you what you need. I can only promise to love you and cherish you,
and do everything in my power for this relationship to work."
Kurt gasped. He must have misunderstood.
"You... you'd consider trying again?"
Blaine shook his head and clarified. "Not trying. Trying isn't enough. Being
together? Yes, I would. But I need you to be certain, Kurt. I need to know
you're in it for better or worse this time; that you're sure it's worth the
risk. That I'm worth the risk."
"Of course." It was understandable.
"So take your time, take as long as you need and if you decide it's something
you want, you know where to find me. If you decide otherwise –"
Kurt interrupted him. "I don't need time, Bee. I can't be any more certain."
Eyes starting to sparkle, smile slowly growing, Blaine still sounded cautious
though.
"Aren't you... dating anyone right now?"
"I haven't dated anyone in over six months."
"I have." Ouch. Well hello, jealousy. "I'm not now, though. But I'd be willing
to. If you were ready to be with me, that is."
Heart pounding, Kurt finally allowed himself to reach over the tabletop and
cover Blaine's hand with his own.
"So ready." He could say it properly now; the way it should be said. "I love
you."
"I love you too."
For a moment, they just grinned at each other, eyes bright and hearts
overflowing. Then Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand and asked, a little breathless.
"Now what?"
"Now... how about we go to the bedroom?"
                                      ***
They held hands, walking the few paces to the room. Kurt's face was all joy and
disbelief, his eyes darkened and wide, and Blaine was pretty sure he knew what
Kurt expected would happen.
Well, it wouldn't. They had time, now. Blaine had been accepted to study music
at NYU, so he wasn't going anywhere. His parents no longer had a say in his
life choices, and Cooper was eager to see them back together, judging by his
less than subtle remarks. There was no reason to either hide or rush anything
this time. And while the sex had been amazing back in summer, there were things
Blaine had missed a lot more than that.
He sat down on the bed the moment they reached it, and scooted back towards the
middle of it, tugging at Kurt's hand for him to follow.
"What do you want me to do, Bee?" Kurt's voice was warm and low, dark tones
betraying his arousal.
"Just... hold me."
And just like that, hunger melted into tenderness and Kurt was right there,
climbing on the bed, lying down, pulling Blaine with him, and god, he'd missed
it so much. It was as if he'd been covered with a thin layer of ice, as if he'd
frozen to the bone in the long months since they'd broken up. He hadn't been
touched for so long – really touched, with love and care, and not just sexual
intent. Now with every touch of Kurt's hands stroking his back, his arms, every
hot breath tickling the skin of his neck, Blaine felt like his body was
thawing, getting warm at last. Only then did he realize just how cold he'd
been, and how painful it'd felt.
Eyes closed, he sought out Kurt's lips blindly, and oh, it felt like coming
home. He'd had his share of dates after he'd moved to New York; there'd been
kisses and make-out sessions, some quite heated, even. There'd been more, a few
times. But no one had ever felt the way Kurt did, so perfectly right, like they
were two puzzle pieces, made for each other.
Time disappeared. The outside world went away, forgotten. Their coffee grew
cold; the light outside changed and then dimmed, and still they were kissing –
just kissing, slow and luxurious, until their lips were swollen and raw, until
they remembered every tiny detail, until every hurt and every tear was
apologized for and forgiven. And then they kissed some more. Pressed together,
both of them aching and yearning and wanting, but it didn't matter.
They had all the time in the world.
***** Chapter 23 *****
Life was  amazing .
As the days passed, Kurt felt the deep, calming sense of happiness settle over
him. He loved waking up every day to Blaine's good morning texts – and yes,
he'd returned to a normal day schedule; or at least what was normal for him. He
loved that Blaine usually came over right after school. If Kurt was working, he
just dropped by the studio with a quick kiss (and sometimes a little gift –
some flowers, a box of fresh strawberries, a cup of coffee), and then went to
practice on the piano for an hour or two. Now that he'd been accepted into the
music program, he could no longer let himself slack off and only play every now
and then, so the fact the two of them had gotten back together saved Cooper
from some major remodeling and piano purchase expenses.
(Once, Kurt joked Blaine only wanted him back for the access to his piano.
Blaine pouted. Kurt kissed the pout away.)
In the evenings they usually made dinner together or went out to eat, sometimes
with Cooper or even Sebastian, but mostly alone. Their relationship was still
too fresh to want to share their time with anyone else, and Kurt loved how
every night felt like a date. They'd go to see a movie, or a show on Broadway
sometimes; they'd take long walks through the city or hide on the roof of
Kurt's apartment building to stargaze – as much as was possible with all the
city lights around – and talk and kiss until they were breathless. Some
evenings they stayed inside and just watched TV or cuddled on the couch, busy
being happy and in love.
Somewhere between ten and midnight, Blaine always went home for the night, and
there were proper goodnight kisses and promises of tomorrow, and sometimes shy
mentions about maybe, one day soon, Blaine staying overnight.
It wasn't like they were denying themselves completely or joining a celibacy
club. It just felt right, somehow, to take their time now when their
relationship last year had been so frantic and rushed. They kissed and touched
a lot, rediscovering the joy of being so close again, but the pace of their
physical relationship was more like it might have been in high school than
anything Kurt had ever experienced. And since he'd never had a boyfriend in
high school – the delicious frustration of never enough, the teasing and
tempting, and the restrictions of school days and curfew for Blaine were new
and strangely exciting.
They finally slept together – actually slept, the night after Blaine's
graduation: spooning, with their underwear on – before they even got off
together once. Not much before, considering they woke up to the summer freedom
and together and want, but still. From there, it still took about a month to
get to the point where hands and lips and tongues had full, unrestricted
access. By this point Blaine stayed at Kurt's roughly every other night, since
there were no early morning classes to worry about.
It was one such night in early July, as they lay in bed tangled loosely
together, not quite sleeping, but too lazy and relaxed to move, when Blaine
asked casually, curiosity coloring his voice.
"Kurt, do you ever, um... bottom?"
And Kurt knew it was a simple request for information, because this was what
they did now. They talked, they asked, they were honest and open. Never
assuming, never hiding stuff just because they thought the other might
disapprove of something. This was part of their unwritten promise to each
other.
So he tried to answer in a neutral tone, he really did, but the way they were
laying was suddenly anything but innocent, Blaine's bare skin hot and so close,
and Kurt's breath hitched a little.
"I used to, a lot. Though sadly not for years now."
"Why?" Blaine nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck, his breath tickling
the question over  sensitive skin.
"Because it's something I could never do unless I trusted the other person
absolutely. And trust is kind of out of the equation when you only have
occasional sex with strangers."
He waited for the inevitable question – why he'd never even mentioned it last
summer, what it said about his trust in Blaine. But it didn't come. Instead,
Blaine said softly, after a pause.
"Kurt?", and when Kurt hummed in response, "Can I finger you?"
                                      ***
Blaine had done this – only to himself, but still – plenty of times, so he was
mostly prepared for the tightness and the heat, and the way Kurt's walls
clenched around his fingers. What he wasn't prepared for was how quickly and
perfectly Kurt opened up for him, asking for the third finger on a broken moan
mere minutes after they started; or how stunningly undone he looked and
sounded.
Having Kurt out of control, a blabbering mess, was not exactly new, though
Blaine was certain it would never not get to him on a cellular level. But this
was more – this was having his older, so much more experienced boyfriend
thrashing in the sheets, arching and sweaty and flushed pink, with just the
slow, controlled movements of Blaine's fingers. This was having Kurt chant
Blaine's name like a spell, and beg like he'd never heard him beg before. It
was intoxicating. And so very, veryhot.
"Fuck, Blaine, I... need more, need... Fuck please, Bee, pleasepleaseplease –"
With a confidence that was new and exhilarating, Blaine skimmed his free hand
along Kurt's leaking cock, eliciting a whimper as Kurt pushed harder onto his
fingers.
"Tell me what you want."
"You, inside. Want to... to ride you ohgodyesthere–" Blaine's fingers twitched
at the mental image, grazing just right, apparently, and then he pulled out.
Kurt whined at the loss, but Blaine was already away, reaching to the bedside
drawer where he knew there were condoms.
Kurt's brain caught up when Blaine opened the little packet.
"You wantme to? Really?"
His voice was high and so breathless, his eyes wide. Blaine managed to pull on
the condom, moaning as he stroked himself, his hands only slightly shaky.
"God yes."
The speed with which Kurt pushed him down on his back and straddled him,
pressing him into the mattress as he kissed him fervently, melted away any
anxiety Blaine might have felt. And then Kurt was up on his knees, dripping
lubricant from the little bottle all over Blaine's cock with an impatient whine
before positioning himself and –
Sinking down. In one slow, unbroken movement, with his eyes squeezed shut and
his lips parted in pleasure, a low, raw sound vibrating all through him. He was
panting softly when he bottomed out and paused, looking so enraptured and
hungry for it, his pupils full-blown and dark red patches high on his cheeks,
that Blaine had to bite his lip, hard, to stop himself from coming on the spot.
Because, it turned out, what felt wonderfully hot and tight around his fingers
was simply indescribable around his cock.
"Oh god, I missed this so much." Kurt rolled his hips gently and moaned.
Blaine gasped as sparks of pleasure shot up and out, the tingling reaching as
far as his fingertips. He wanted to make it perfect for Kurt, wanted to give
him everything, for as long as he wanted, but already he felt overwhelmed with
the sensations. And when Kurt started a slow, fluid rhythm, Blaine could only
warn between the moans.
"Kurt... don't hold back. I... god, it won't last long."
It was embarrassing, but Kurt only laughed breathlessly.
"Oh, I'm sure it won't. It's been years, Bee, I can't–" The rest was lost in a
helpless keen as Kurt snapped his hips down harder.
It didn't last long, indeed, but the few minutes were filled with such
perfection – sensations, pictures and sounds – that it could easily fill hours.
Blaine tumbled over the edge the second he felt Kurt clench around him with a
broken cry. Fighting to keep his eyes open through his own orgasm, unwilling to
lose a second of the spectacle that was Kurt coming all over his hand and
stomach, Blaine suddenly understood why this was such a big deal.
He'd never felt so close to anyone before.
 
That night brought an obvious question back into Blaine's focus and the desire
– want – needthat had haunted him for weeks last summer came back with a
vengeance. He didn't bring the topic up yet, though, because the next two weeks
were busy for both of them. Kurt was finishing up a small collection for La
Nuit, barely leaving his sewing room for days before he went to Boston to
oversee the rest of the process. Blaine, in the meantime, was searching for a
job.
Cooper had offered to pay for his freshman year of college so that he could
focus on studying, and they'd agreed that Blaine would contribute half of the
tuition in the following years, be it through scholarships, work or a student
loan. It was stunningly generous of his brother and Blaine protested at first,
but Cooper just told him to shut up and let him support his little brother for
once. Still, Blaine wanted at least a semi-permanent job to have money of his
own and be able to help with the bills sometimes. He was not a child anymore,
after all.
He ended up going back to The Tipsy Hippo for two nights a week for now and,
through Sebastian's recommendation, he was set to become a piano tutor for a
few kids come September.
Then Kurt came back from Boston and nothing else seemed important anymore. It
felt a little insane, to miss each other quite so much when they were only
apart for 104 hours (and 23 minutes, not that Blaine had been counting), but
there wasn't time to question it as they fell into each other's arms, not ready
to resurface for hours.
Two days later, Kurt brought up the subject of the purple dildo.
Blaine hadn't actually used it since the afternoon Kurt had seen him – the day
they'd gotten back together – and the thought of doing so with Kurt actually
therethis time made his head spin and his heart pound with anticipation. He
brought the toy over the next day.
And oh yes, having Kurt control the angle and speed of it while Blaine knelt on
the bed, holding on to the rungs of the headboard and feeling completely,
utterly exposed with his ass up in the air and his voice already rough from the
sounds he couldn't control, was possibly the most intense thing he'd ever felt.
At least, until Kurt let go of the toy, leaving it sheathed deep inside, only
to draw his fingertip slowly over the stretched rim around it.
"God, look at you. So beautiful and open, taking it so perfectly. I wonder if
–"
Before he had a chance to finish, the raw, pure needslammed into Blaine full
force and there was no way he could stop thinking about it now – about Kurt's
cock sliding in place of the toy, filling him even further, fulfilling the
fantasy he'd gotten himself off to countless times, never actually believing it
would come true.
Well, it could now. At least he hoped so.
"Please take me."
He barely recognized his own voice, strained and breathless, and the few
seconds before Kurt reached towards the bedside drawer felt like eternity. The
sound of the foil crinkling, Kurt's quiet gasp as he stroked the condom on, the
click of the lube bottle – it all came in slow motion to the accompaniment of
Blaine's own racing heart.
"Are you sure?"
Of course Kurt would ask, but really, what a silly question. He just moaned
desperately and Kurt hummed and reached for the toy again. He moved it a few
more times, changing the angle so that Blaine felt it stretch him even more,
but then it was gone and the emptiness it left was unbearable, demanding to be
filled again.
And then the head of Kurt's cock was there, pushing slow, but insistent against
the slight resistance of the muscles, and Blaine relaxed completely for the
intrusion that couldn't be more welcome. A tiny shift, a bit of give and Kurt
slid in, just the head, and Blaine cried out roughly. Fuck, it hurt for a
moment – nothing he didn't expect, that bright flash of too much he knew from
the first few times with the dildo that melted away within seconds, leaving the
feeling of almost unbearable stretch that he loved so much. Kurt stilled and
waited, stroking Blaine's back until his breathing went back to normal. Then he
inched slowly further, and the tiny part of Blaine's brain that wasn't fully
focused on the full – perfect – Kurtregistered the helpless little whimpers
Kurt was letting out behind him.
And then he paused, entirely too soon, only to whisper "Come here" and tug
gently at Blaine's shoulder. Not sure what he meant, barely able to move, let
alone think through the intensity of it, Blaine simply obeyed. He let himself
be pulled up and back until he was kneeling between Kurt's knees, Kurt's cock
still inside and shifting minutely with every movement, and oh, it made sense.
Leaning against Kurt's chest, he settled down into Kurt's lap, the rest of his
length sliding in and filling him perfectly while strong arms supported and
embraced him.
For a moment, Blaine just stayed like that, motionless, trying to figure out
how to breathe and where he ended and Kurt began, and deciding it didn't matter
in the slightest, and then he shifted his hips experimentally.
And to think he was so sure he knew intense.
Once he moved, he was unable to stop – fumbling a little at first, a bit
ungainly, but Kurt's arms were there, steadying and guiding him, snug around
his chest and his hips. Soon he felt Kurt thrust his hips forward to meet every
one of Blaine's slides and it couldn't be more perfect. He felt loved and cared
for and fucked at the same time.  He pushed faster, causing Kurt's hips to snap
up harder as he caught the intention immediately.
He saw sparks behind his closed eyelids when Kurt changed his angle a little,
thrusting even deeper, and god, Blaine was so close already. Still, he managed
to find his voice somehow.
"What does it do to you, to know that you are my first? That no one else has
ever been so close to me, maybe no one ever will?" he rasped, and Kurt was done
for. With a helpless keen, he pushed harder, faster, just right, and Blaine
lost all words. A moment later he lost all coherent thoughts, too, lost his
breath and his hold on reality.
He knew Kurt's hand closed around his cock at some point; he knew his throat
was dry and raw from the sounds he'd never made before as he slumped further
back against Kurt, his muscles no longer able to support him. The last few
perfect, sharp thrusts and the world shattered into a shower of pleasure so
bright it was blinding.
Coming down slowly, right into the haze of sleep, Blaine could only repeat I
love you, I love you so much over and over again, like a mantra. And the best
thing was that Kurt was right there, holding him, his eyes so bright and happy
as he answered solemnly, "I love you too."
                                      ***
Blaine was asleep by the time Kurt sneaked out to the bathroom for a soft
flannel, and he didn't stir at all during the gentle clean-up. Kurt turned off
the little lamp and slid into the bed where he settled against Blaine's back,
holding him tightly.
And then he cried.
He cried for all the time he'd lost because of his fear, and all the men he
shared this experience with when it didn't mean anything at all. For how
perfect it felt to make love to Blaine, and how he never wanted to be this
close to anyone else, ever again.
He cried because this was it, this was his perfect man, the one he wanted to
share his whole life with, which he somehow came to know without a shadow of a
doubt.
He cried, because so many things could have gone wrong and stopped them from
being together, or even meeting at all. He cried because he was so happy, and
so grateful that despite his stupid stubbornness and his mistakes, he'd been
given a second chance.
Tears still clinging to his lashes, Kurt finally fell asleep with a serene
smile.
***** Chapter 24 *****
Summer came to an end. There was Blaine's birthday – much less dramatic and
more enjoyable this year, without impending goodbyes or inappropriate presents
or, well, breaking up – and then school started, causing Kurt's anxiety to
stir.
But every single day after classes, fresh from meeting new, interesting people,
making friends and conquering the world, Blaine came back to him. He was bouncy
and affectionate, eager to spend their time together, to talk and play new
things for Kurt, to tell him all about his day and to have crazy amounts of
sex.
Nope, he didn't seem bored with his decade older boyfriend at all.
In fact, they still couldn't get enough of each other, stealing away every free
moment they could spare (and some they really shouldn't) to be together – so
much so that all too often it was late at night before they realized that
Blaine should probably go home. Nine times out of ten, it ended with him simply
staying the night anyway. He had enough of his things at Kurt's now that it
wasn't a problem, and obviously, neither of them minded.
Eventually, at the beginning of November, during a Saturday brunch, Cooper
grumbled.
"Why don't you two just move in together? This is the first time I've seen
Blaine all week, and he's supposed to live with me."
There was no anger in Coop's voice, just teasing, but the question sounded
earnest enough and Kurt gaped at him, stunned.
"Wait, are you serious? You wouldn't mind?"
Coop chuckled and grinned in this cute way that made his face all scrunchy.
He'd done that a lot in the last two months, mostly due to one adorable redhead
junior analyst from his company.
"Well I hadn't planned for him to move out quite so soon but since he basically
lives with you now anyway... It would just be a formality at this point. And
I'd finally be able to stop worrying he'll come home at the worst possible
moment when Melissa's over. Really, getting dressed every time either of us
wants to go grab some water or whipped cream or whatever gets pretty tedious
lately."
Since Kurt was busy rolling his eyes, Cooper turned to Blaine.
"Not that I'm kicking you out, Bee. You can stay if you want and it'll always
be home, no matter what, but in case you two were interested in having the same
address, you have my blessing. That's all I'm saying."
Blaine's mouth was half-open at this point, but his eyes were already sparkling
with child-like enthusiasm as he looked over at Kurt, who grinned.
"So what do you say? Will you move in with me? I should warn you I'm really
snappy when I'm overworked or frustrated, and I can get distant when
inspiration hits me, but you already know all that. So it's your call. I'd be
happy to live with you."
He'd be more than happy, in fact – it would be a dream come true. His apartment
seemed empty whenever Blaine went home, quiet in an unwelcome way, and Blaine's
belongings, though numerous, always looked out of place there, like guests.
Having Blaine move in would feel like moving a puzzle piece into its proper
place.
But then Kurt realized something and added, "Of course, I can't exactly provide
you with your own room –"
Blaine laughed brightly.
"Oh, I think I'll survive. It's never been a problem so far, has it? You'll
just grant me some closet space (Kurt groaned) and a few shelves for my books,
and let's see, I can sleep with you."
"Oversharing!" Cooper yelled, covering his ears, and they all laughed.
"So is that a yes?" Kurt bounced a little, as much as it was possible to bounce
in a deep, overstuffed armchair.
"Yes, I'll move in with you." Blaine's grin was blinding. "How about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow sounds awfully far away, but I'll take it. Seeing how I need to gut
my closet tonight and all."
Who knew he'd ever feel happy about the prospect of having less space for his
clothes?  
 
Kurt's only experiences of living with anyone apart from his family were a
female friend back in freshman year of college and later, James. While both of
them had a lot of good moments, he remembered the beginnings as a challenging
adjustment. James had been a bit of a slob, leaving his clothes everywhere and
always forgetting to close the toilet lid, while Rachel, an early bird, had
proven physically unable not to sing during her extensive morning routine.
There'd been lots of tiny conflicts, negotiating boundaries and rules for weeks
before living under one roof had become easy, and then even nice.
Kurt was fully prepared for the same this time.
So he was stunned to see that with Blaine, nothing like that actually happened.
Blaine knew not to expect coherency from Kurt before his first cup of coffee
and never touched Kurt's half of the closet, respecting the elaborate system
Kurt kept there. He was easy to live with, they didn't get on each other's
nerves and if there was a problem, they simply talked it out.  They joined
their lives smoothly and seamlessly, a process as easy as intertwining their
fingers whenever they were walking together, and for Kurt, this was another
sign that they were meant for each other.
The quiet, effortless happiness of everyday life with another person was
something he'd never fully experienced and he hoped it would never end. It felt
like home.
                                      ***
They'd been together for seven months when Kurt decided it was time Blaine got
introduced to his family, and Christmas was the perfect occasion. The Andersons
were away on a Caribbean cruise, and Cooper’s girlfriend of a few months had
invited him to her home for Christmas. Blaine knew Coop only said no because of
him, and he felt bad about it. He liked Melissa. She and Cooper were so sweet
together that Blaine constantly reminded himself to check for cavities, because
really. Sweetness overload. So when Kurt mentioned that he'd love for Blaine to
go home with him and meet his family, he didn't hesitate much.
Which might have been a mistake. Really, he should have thought about it
better, because he only made it halfway through dinner on the first night
before he had to excuse himself and flee upstairs. He ran into Kurt's old room
where they were supposed to sleep, under the pretext of needing to take out his
contacts.
Blaine didn't even wear contacts. He just desperately needed a few minutes by
himself.
But maybe he should have actually gone and hidden in the bathroom instead of
here. Because Kurt's room... Well, it was still Kurt's room, and that only felt
like rubbing salt into the wound. Ten years since Kurt had moved away, and he
still had his own space in his parents' house, a place to call his own. He had
a home outside New York where he could always come and be welcomed with open
arms, no questions asked.
Blaine's old bedroom had already been turned into a craft room, his mom told
him.
Kurt had it all: the acceptance, the support, the unconditional love that every
parent was supposed to give their children, or so Blaine heard. And it wasn’t
just Mr. Hummel (It's Burt, kid), which was at least understandable to Blaine,
but Carole, too. Not even Kurt's actual mom, not someone who might for some
reason feel obliged to love him, and who still so very clearly did.
Not that Blaine had any doubts concerning Kurt's lovability – god no, he knew
first hand just how easy it was to love his boyfriend. And he wasn't exactly
jealous, either. It was just... family. The kind of family Blaine only ever
read and heard about: where no one had to constantly try to fit in, to be
whoever they all wanted to see among them. Where every action didn’t threaten
to disappoint. Those were the only family dynamics Blaine had ever known and
seeing Kurt's family so accepting and honest, so embracing, broke something
deep within him.
Why couldn't his parents be like this? Why could they never have asked him with
such sincere interest about his life and his opinions? Why had even his tiniest
mistakes been harshly critiqued and recalled forever, while other people could
clearly try and fail and find their way before they succeeded, safe in the
knowledge that they'd be loved no matter what?
Why couldn't he have a family like Kurt's?
He heard footsteps on the stairs and quickly wiped at his wet eyes, getting
ready to apologize to Kurt for behaving like a hermit on his first day here.
But it wasn't Kurt. The half-closed door opened to reveal Mr. Hummel.
No, Burt.
Great, not only was Kurt surely disappointed with him, but his family must have
thought Blaine had absolutely no manners. They probably wondered why Kurt even
dated him at all. Would he get a lecture about his behavior now? Or would it be
an interrogation to determine if he qualified to be Kurt's boyfriend? Sure,
both Burt and Carole had been really nice when they welcomed them earlier, but
that must have been for Kurt's sake. Oh god, what if they told him to go back
to New York?
Within seconds, Blaine had wound himself up so tightly that when Burt sat down
by his side on the bed, a little squeak escaped his throat. He felt a firm,
heavy hand on his shoulder and tensed, barely daring to look into the man's
eyes, but when he did, he found no anger or disappointment there, just kind
inquiry. Burt smiled and took his hand away, and it was weird, but Blaine
missed the comforting weight already.
"Hey, kid, you can relax, you know? No one's going to judge you here. We're not
that scary, are we?"
Blaine quickly shook his head, but even to himself it didn't seem convincing,
and Burt chuckled.
"You know what? Once, I'd have been somewhat glad to know that Kurt's dates
were a bit afraid of me. But now –" Burt's eyes, while still kind, grew serious
as he turned to face Blaine fully. "You love my son, don't you?"
Well, that was the easiest question in the world. "Yes, sir."
"Stop with the sir, kid," Burt commanded and Blaine bit his tongue to stop the
automatic response of yet another Yes, sir. Burt smiled. "I can see how much
you care about him, the way you look at him. And he loves you with all his
heart, it's clear as day. I haven't seen my boy so happy in many, many years,
Blaine, and it's your doing. Believe me, there's no better recommendation than
that. I admit I had my doubts when I learned how young you are, but honestly,
age is just a number. I only care if you're good for each other, and you seem
to be, so you have my wholehearted blessing."
Blaine realized he was staring, his eyes stinging again, so he quickly blinked
a few times to keep the fresh tears at bay. Burt was still looking at him with
that solemn but kind expression, so Blaine cleared his throat to respond.
"Thank you, s– I mean, Burt."
"Kurt told me about your family, you know." Something dark and cloudy flew
across Burt's features momentarily, and then disappeared. "It's not my place to
judge – god knows I'm aware how hard it is to be a parent sometimes. But I just
want you to know that no matter what, you have family here, with us."
Blaine's expression probably reflected the stunned disbelief he felt. He must
have misunderstood. He was just Kurt's boyfriend, and not even for a year now,
how–
Burt laughed, bright and warm.
"Blaine, you may be a decade younger than Kurt, but if I know my son, and I
dare say I do, I'm sure he'll bring you here one day as his husband. And we'll
be happy when he does. So really, there's no use waiting a few years to adopt
you into the family, is there?"
Burt grinned a wide, slightly mischievous smile, so similar to Kurt's.
"Now come on, let's go back before Kurt thinks I'm interrogating you and comes
to the rescue."
 
Christmas with Kurt's family was unlike any Blaine had ever experienced – in
the best of ways.
There were small, thoughtful gifts for everyone instead of piles of generic,
expensive presents his parents were known for. Colorful lights and mismatched
Christmas decorations that his father would surely call tacky were everywhere,
some clearly made by children's hands, long ago. The food was plentiful, so
much more than just one formal dinner, and the whole house smelled of baking.
The first morning, Carole used the fact that Blaine was up before Kurt to
request his help in the kitchen, and soon they were decorating cookies
together, drinking hot chocolate and chatting happily. There was no rule about
eating anywhere but the dining room, like in the Anderson house, and everyone
seemed to just graze on yummy things whenever they felt like it.
Everyone consisted of the four of them plus Kurt's step-brother Finn, who
arrived from California on Christmas Eve with his wife Anabelle and his 13-
year-old daughter, Drizzle. (High school pregnancy,Finn explained, nonplussed,
when he noticed Blaine doing math in his head with his eyes big as saucers.
Kind of a long story. The best mistake of my life.) It was crowded and loud,
everyone talking constantly, and it was impossible to find a quiet corner.
Blaine loved it with all his heart.
It felt like home.
***** Chapter 25 *****
Time passed. They were still together and happy. But it didn't mean they didn't
have their share of problems and conflicts, just like anyone else.
The age gap alone was basis for some pretty awful situations early on.
When Blaine mentioned that he lived with his 29-year-old boyfriend his freshman
year, some people started looking at him funny. Mostly they just seemed
shocked, but some looked almost disgusted. When someone recognized Kurt's name
and blabbered all around that Blaine was sleeping with a fashion designer, he
heard whispers about him having a sugar daddy more than once. It stung, not
because there was any amount of truth in it, but because he'd considered some
of those people his new friends. Still, in the end he just shrugged it off and
decided he needed to choose friends better.
So when the vicious article about Kurt Hummel's barely legal lover came out
after he accompanied Kurt to one of the bigger fashion events, stirring heated
discussions among gossip-mongers, Blaine was already seasoned with the age
stuff. He could calmly comfort Kurt, pull him away from the internet and
patiently remind him that he was more than legal and not just his lover, and
really, one stupid reporter could just stuff it. In the end, like most of the
gutter press "breaking news", it went away pretty fast.
 
Then one day in his sophomore year, when Kurt went to Boston, Blaine found a
thick white folder on the coffee table. He opened it out of curiosity, and his
heart sank. It was Kurt's wedding book, almost four years old. Everything
planned out and beautiful, pictures and locations, menus, guest lists, color
schemes and dried flowers. There was even a picture of Kurt with James – a
tall, sandy-haired hunk with a mischievous smile. They stood together and
looked so happy...
Clearly, Kurt had been going through the folder, remembering, maybe regretting
what he no longer had. Did he miss this guy? Was Blaine not good enough?
He didn't mention it when they talked on the phone that evening, and he
finished the call early, saying he was tired.
But when Kurt came back the next day, he only needed one glance to know Blaine
was a wreck. Another glance at the coffee table, where the wedding folder still
lay, and his eyes flashed with understanding. He sat on the sofa next to Blaine
and took his hand.
"You've been going through this old thing and thinking too much, haven't you?"
When Blaine just shrugged dejectedly, Kurt sighed and squeezed his hand. "Hey,
look at me. Let me explain before you assume anything, okay? I took it out from
the back of the closet because I've been looking for a sketch I'd put there. My
tux – I'd planned it to perfection, but never got to make it because it was too
extravagant for James's taste. He somehow convinced me to go with one off the
rack – classy, of course. But still."
Blaine looked at him for the first time then, incredulous, and Kurt chuckled.
"Yeah, I know. I gave the thing away long ago. Must have made some guy happy.
Anyway, I remembered my design when I was thinking about the evening collection
we're working on, so I was looking for the drawings in a hurry just before I
went. Hence the folder. I actually discovered just how much my taste had
changed in the process, so this all goes in the trash. And it's all in the
past, Bee. It's a relationship that was nice while it lasted and that I learned
a lot from, but it's in the past and I don't regret it. I'm with you now and I
love you, and I'm so happy, in ways I've never been with anyone before, and
just... please. Don't ever doubt that."
It felt like a huge boulder being lifted from Blaine's heart. God, he'd been
silly. There was a reason assuming was never a good idea.
 
Then, right after his 30th birthday, Kurt decided he was too old for him.
Blaine came home from classes one day to find Kurt sitting on the floor in
their bedroom, looking so miserable he thought something terrible must have
happened. But when Kurt actually spoke...
"You should leave me for someone younger, you know. When you're my age now,
I'll be 40, Bee. Forty! I'll be old and wrinkly and unable to keep up with you
sexually, surely you don't want that in a boyfriend. And... hey, it's not
funny!"
Blaine laughed so hard he cried, and then tackled Kurt to the floor and
proceeded to show him in very thorough ways how much he didn't care about his
senile status.
 
The deepest crisis came at the beginning of summer after Blaine's sophomore
year.
He was exhausted and stressed after weeks of exams and performances, and Kurt
barely had time for him, busy with a huge fashion show where he was presenting
his own label for the first time. And when Blaine was finally, blissfully free
for the summer, they had a major fight.
Blaine wasn't even sure where it all came from. Okay, it must have had
something to do with his friends talking about their summer plans earlier that
night, when they were all at the bar, celebrating being done with  final exams.
All the talk about travelling and meeting new people, about new experiences,
cute girls and guys waiting out there to be met...
And there he was, barely 20 and all domesticated, feeling like part of an old
married couple.
Suddenly the thought that he would never feel the thrill of a budding love
again, never kiss anyone new or see what it was like to have sex with someone
who wasn't Kurt felt like a prison. And it was a bad night for Kurt to come
home frustrated and snappy, because a tiny argument snowballed into a massive
fight where Blaine said a lot of things he didn't really mean, and for the
first time since they'd moved in together, he ended up sleeping on Cooper and
Melissa's couch.
He came home early the next morning, feeling like an idiot and ready to
apologize with a breakfast served in bed, flowers and love songs, only to find
Kurt sitting at the kitchen table in yesterday's clothes, tired but calm, with
coffee and a stack of sketches, a pencil behind his ear.
"I want you to go away for a bit." Kurt said in lieu of a greeting, and pushed
the papers away, focusing all his attention on Blaine.
But... he must have misheard. "What?"
"I want you to take some time away, to travel – wherever you want, Europe
maybe? Anywhere." Kurt's voice was rough from sleeplessness, but steady. "Take
however long you need, a month, two, no matter the cost; it's my early birthday
gift to you. And while you're there, I... I want you to do what you want. Meet
other people, flirt with them, kiss them, dance with them, s-sleep with them.
Whatever you need, as long as you keep safe."
There was an invisible hand tightening around Blaine's throat, making it ever
harder to breathe. "Kurt... are you breaking up with me?"
Kurt's smile was soft, his expression filled with so much love it hurt.
"No, honey. I just don't want you to feel like you've missed out on anything
because you met me so young. I love you more than anything and I've been in
enough relationships to know you're it for me. But you haven't had that chance.
So I'm giving it to you because I love you and I know that if it's meant to be,
you'll come back when you're sure I'm what you want. In the meantime, go.
Figure it out, taste freedom. I'll be here when you come back."
After a few days of doubts and discussions where his rather feeble arguments
were all shot down, Blaine went.
He spent five weeks in Europe, camping – something he'd always wanted to try.
He travelled alone, choosing his destinations as he went, meeting new people
and experiencing cultures he'd never known. He texted Kurt every day to let him
know he was fine. He saw plenty, tried a lot of new things, did some soul
searching and understood more than he'd believed possible.
There were nights when he went to clubs and danced till morning, and others
when he talked by the fire with interesting strangers, or flirted at bars. He
discovered that he could buy alcohol, because in most countries eighteen was
the legal age. He was always smart though, no stupid risks, and the few times
the situation actually progressed beyond talking and flirting and into making
out, he caught himself getting distracted because it didn't feel that good at
all. The one hasty handjob he let himself be talked into, in the bathroom of a
gay club in Holland, left him feeling a little disgusted and not really
interested in trying again. It was all fine, but there was no heart there, no
love.
When he came back to New York and into Kurt's waiting arms at the end of July,
he knew.
He proposed not a month later.
 
It was on the night of his 21st birthday. They'd just come home after an
evening of celebration – with alcohol, which Blaine could buy this time and it
made him feel ridiculously proud.
He'd planned to wait until he was in the bedroom with Kurt, maybe kissing, with
less clothes on – or at least their suit jackets off – but his giddiness at the
thought of what he wanted to do was difficult enough to contain all day. He
couldn't keep it in any longer. The kitchen was a good place too, right?
He wound his arms around Kurt's waist and pressed against his back with his
chin hooked over Kurt's shoulder. He could feel the little box against his hip
under the jacket, an exciting reminder.
"I don't want to sound greedy, but I'd really like to ask you for one more gift
tonight. Something very special, that only you in the entire world can give
me."
Kurt's laugh was bright and soft, like a silver bell. "I'm not sure if it's so
special, with the frequency we do it, but of course, baby. There will be sex,
just let me get some water first."
"That's not what I meant." Something in his voice must have betrayed the awed
anticipation he felt because Kurt turned in his arms, his eyes curious, one
eyebrow arched.
"So what did you mean?"
"I meant..." Blaine let go of him and lowered himself to his knee, the ring box
already in his hand. Kurt's eyes grew wide, his face disbelieving. "Kurt, it
would make me the happiest man on earth if you said yes. Will you marry me?"
It took a moment before he got his answer, but between Kurt's tear-filled eyes,
his hand covering his mouth and the frantic nodding, he figured he didn't have
to panic. Kurt's voice was trembling when he finally spoke.
"Oh my god, yes. Yes, Blaine, of course I'll marry you. I'm sorry, I just... I
can't believe –" The last words were whispered against Blaine's neck, their
hold on each other tight and desperate.
Blaine chuckled lightly, the joy and relief making him lightheaded. He pulled
away slightly to kiss the tip of Kurt's nose.
"What, you've never thought about us getting married?"
"No, I just..." Kurt sniffled, still overwhelmed. "I haven't thought I'd ever
be proposed to and... I love you, Blaine. So much."
"I love you too, my future husband."
***** Chapter 26 *****
The date had been set (early June, four years to the day since they'd first
met), the preparations were slowly being made. One day in February, over
dinner, Blaine decided it was time to discuss one of the more significant
issues.
"I want to take your name when we're married."
Kurt smiled at him over his fettuccine.
"Before or after yours?"
"Instead." This made Kurt stop eating, his brow furrowed.
"Oh Bee, you don't have to do that. We can do double surnames, it's not a
problem. It's quite normal for artists to only use part of their name for work,
so you don’t have to –"
Blaine took his hand over the table and squeezed it.
"No, you don't understand. I want to change my name after the wedding. I'm
going to be your husband. Yours. Forever. I want my name to reflect that. In so
many ways, I've grown to be a new person because I met you, Kurt, so I'd like
that new person to have a new name, too. And I'm not terribly attached to
Anderson, anyway. I already feel so much closer to your family than I've ever
felt to mine."
He'd been thinking about it for months now. Well, not even thinking, really.
He'd known that was what he wanted all along, he'd just been waiting to see if
any doubts appeared at some point. There hadn't been any.
Kurt simply looked at him for a while, his eyes full of wonder. Finally, he
spoke.
"Blaine Hummel. I like the sound of it."
                                      ***
On the last day of May, a week before the wedding, they got an unexpected
visitor.
It was Kurt who opened the door, since Blaine was being ridiculous and singing
loudly in the kitchen while baking cookies. Even though he'd never seen the
woman before, Kurt only needed about two seconds to recognize who it was.
Blaine really did take after his mom.
"Hello. You must be Kurt."
She had a soft voice and a nice smile, but before Kurt managed to gather his
bearings and answer with any degree of coherency, her attention snapped away
from him as she looked towards the kitchen. Blaine was still making up some
silly song about cookies and love, sung to the tune of Ding-Dong! The Witch Is
Dead. Just then, he paused and called.
"Kurt? Who is it?"
Not waiting for an answer, he stepped out of the kitchen – and froze, his mouth
half-open, an oven mitt in one hand and a streak of flour running across his
cheek.
"Mom?"
Kurt watched from the doorway as they both moved forward to meet in a tight
embrace in the middle of the living room. He could see tears in Blaine's eyes,
and his heart clenched for his fiancé. Blaine hardly ever talked about his
parents, and he hadn't seen them in person since he'd moved to New York. In
fact, he only spoke with his mom on the phone or Skype about once a month.
They'd sent an invitation for the wedding to Westerville, of course, but had
gotten a prompt, impersonal response of "We are sorry to inform you that we
won't be able to attend. Please accept our best wishes." And that was that.
Cooper had started smashing things in a rage when he heard about it, and when
Melissa calmly, but firmly kicked him out of the kitchen, he'd called his
father instead, to yell at him and swear that this would be the one and only
wedding invitation he'd ever be getting from either of his sons, because Cooper
was officially done with him.
Blaine had just been quietly heartbroken for weeks.
But now Mrs. Anderson was here, smiling at both of them as they settled in the
living room with coffee and fresh cookies. She couldn't take her eyes off
Blaine.
"Honey, I wish I could come to your wedding, but I can't, not without crossing
your father," she started, her face apologetic. "And you have no idea how sorry
I am about it. But I had to at least come see you now, meet my future son-in-
law and make sure you know you have my blessing, old-fashioned as it sounds."
Blaine's eyes filled with tears but his smile was huge, if slightly shaky. She
took his hand and squeezed it, offering comfort, and then turned to Kurt.
"Kurt. So good to finally put a face to the name. Now tell me all about you."
 
The afternoon was nice and in the evening Cooper showed up with Melissa to take
them all to dinner, which was filled with family anecdotes and light banter.
Kurt watched it all with a smile. There were so many similarities between those
three – the lilt of a voice here, eyes crinkling in laughter there, the same
hand gesture. He was happy to see Blaine so radiant and relaxed.
Kurt wished he could give his fiancé the world, but there were things he had no
control over. He couldn't magically fix Blaine's relationship with his parents
or convince his father that he really should stop being an asshole and support
his son by, oh, maybe showing up at his wedding. And while Kurt's family had
treated Blaine like their own for years now, it wasn't the same, even though it
did mean a lot to both of them. So this show of support from Blaine's mom was
more than welcome.
It turned out she didn't do things halfway, either. As they were waiting for
dessert and coffee to arrive, Mrs. Anderson (Kurt knew her name was Callie, but
she never told him to call her anything other than Mrs. Anderson) reached into
her handbag and took out a small, dark green velvet box. Her smile suddenly
shy, she pushed it across the table towards the two of them.
"I brought you something, a little gift from me. I've debated having them made
into rings maybe, since they're of no use to you like this, but I thought I'd
let you decide." She laughed nervously at their confused expressions. "Oh, just
open it."
Blaine reached for the box, popped the lid open and gasped. Cooper leaned over
to look and his jaw dropped, too.
"Aren't these–"
"The diamond earrings, yes." She explained, mostly for Kurt's sake now.
"They've been in my family for many generations now, and the tradition is the
first child to marry gets them as a family heirloom. As I said, I can have them
made into rings or something – but maybe... maybe you'd prefer to leave them as
they are for your daughter to have one day? Or a daughter-in-law?"
And that was it for Kurt – more than any of her words before, this was the
acknowledgement that she looked at their relationship just as she would if
Blaine was straight. That she accepted they were getting married, and there may
be children one day, their children. Her grandchildren, and they'd be just as
important as they'd have been if Blaine had married a woman. This was the
moment when a lot of the reservations Kurt still had towards his future mother-
in-law melted away.
He looked at Blaine's tear-streaked face, his own vision blurry. He knew what
he'd prefer, but the final word was his fiancé's.
"I think I like them better the way they are. I'm sure that one day there'll be
someone to actually wear them."
Blaine looked at him for confirmation, and Kurt nodded, grinning.
 
They saw Mrs. Anderson to the airport early the next morning and after Cooper
and Blaine said their goodbyes, Kurt extended his hand with a smile. She took
it and pulled him into a tight, unexpected hug, long enough to whisper in his
ear.
"You've made my baby happier than I've seen him since he was a  child, Kurt.
Thank you for that."
There was the tiniest hint of tears in her eyes when she pulled away, and Kurt
just smiled at Blaine's questioning look, taking his hand.
He was going to spend his life making sure that his Bee was as happy as
possible.
                                      ***
The ceremony was private and quiet; just Kurt's family, Cooper and Melissa, and
the closest friends of the couple: Sebastian (who was Kurt's best man and came
by himself), Julian with his wife, a few of Blaine's college friends and his
two best friends back from Dalton. It was classy, but without the lavishness
Cooper remembered Kurt planning back when he was going to marry James.
They had Kurt's favorite restaurant – the one that had seen their first date –
booked just for them for the simple wedding dinner afterwards, and in the
evening the newlyweds were flying out for their honeymoon, which involved
travelling Italy, France and Greece, starting with Venice.
Cooper couldn't take his eyes off Blaine as he stood beside him, listening to
him recite his vows. He'd never seen his little brother so happy – literally
radiant, eyes shining, every word filled with such conviction and love that no
one could have any doubts: there was nowhere in the world he would rather be,
now and forever, than here, by Kurt's side. Kurt, who looked at him like he was
the best present he'd received from life – and who, Cooper knew, considered him
as such.
As the newlyweds were trading rings, Cooper stole a glance to the side. Melissa
was standing there with a camera, since their mom had asked for a recording of
the ceremony. Kurt had jumped  at the opportunity to have it filmed without
involving hired photographers – even now that his name was increasingly well-
known among fashion-conscious people and his designs were sought after, he
remained a private person and the possibility of the recording or photos
leaking out somewhere was out of the question. So instead, he talked to
Melissa, who happened to be a photography enthusiast, and bought a camera she
recommended.
She noticed Coop looking now and smiled brightly, her dimples showing. Cooper
felt a surge of affection run through him. He had his own plans for that night,
secret plans involving a  diamond ring, and now more than ever, he felt hopeful
that maybe he wouldn't screw it up after all. Maybe despite not having a proper
role model in his own father, he'd manage to become a good husband. After all,
Blaine was doing a stellar job so far.
It was a funny thing, to look up to his much younger brother and his best
friend – a gay couple and not a typical one in any way – to learn about love
and relationships. But if they were not perfect role models, he thought,
watching them kiss for the first time as husbands, he didn't know who was.
                                      ***
After they came back from their honeymoon, Kurt and Blaine learned that a photo
did leak out after all. Someone must have snapped a picture when they were
walking to the car right after the wedding and stopped to kiss, unable to
contain their happiness.
It showed their profiles against the New York skyline at dusk. They stood chest
to chest, looking into each other's eyes, Kurt's hand, with his wedding band
clearly visible, cupping Blaine's cheek. Their lips were just inches apart and
there was so much love and tenderness in their expressions that despite the
invasion of privacy, Kurt couldn't stop a smile when he saw it. It was a
beautiful photo.
The fact that it was on the cover of People magazine was less beautiful and
more annoying. But the headline said The cutest couple of the fashion industry,
and the cover story wasn't bad or too gossipy, so he shrugged it off. It wasn't
like he could do much a month after publication. And it was an unavoidable part
of making it in the business, after all.
He was still annoyed, though. At least until he found an email from a Vogue
representative in his mailbox, asking if they would consider posing for a photo
spread together.
Showing off his gorgeous new husband in Vogue? Now that was an offer Kurt
wouldn't say no to.

***** Chapter 27 *****
Autumn came and life returned to its normal, mundane flow. And yet, being
married still felt new and amazing.  Married . They were husbands. Kurt and
Blaine Hummel. Sometimes Kurt had to stop whatever he was doing and take a deep
breath or pinch himself, he was so overwhelmed with the thought. Sometimes it
still felt like a dream.
The only thing missing now was a child.
Of course, it was way too early for kids, assuming Blaine even wanted any at
all – they hadn't had this conversation yet. He was barely twenty-two after
all, probably not ready to think about it, and Kurt wasn't about to go and
plant the question in his head now. It could lead to all sorts of trouble – he
could say noand Kurt would get upset, which would lead to Blaine feeling guilty
and maybe changing his mind before he was ready, and really, that wouldn't be
good for anyone. No, it was better to wait a few years – and who knew, maybe
the topic would surface on its own at some point.
Except it was torturously hard not to alert his husband to the baby fever that
Kurt had suddenly developed. Babies in ads were making him teary-eyed! He only
resisted peeking into strollers because it was New York. People were wary of
such behaviors here.
So when Julian's wedding anniversary approached a few months later and he joked
that the best gift would be the ability to take his wife out to dinner and a
movie without worrying about their three little ones, the youngest of which was
barely two months, Kurt had a serious dilemma. On one hand, he had plenty of
experience with kids – or at least akid – and he'd love to let his friends have
some much-needed time alone. On the other, he knew it would only make the ache
worse.
In the end, he agreed and took Blaine who, it turned out, was eager to help.
The kids were all asleep by the time they were left alone with them. Everything
was quiet and peaceful – for about an hour, until the baby's pitiful mewl came
from the crib in his parent’s bedroom.
"I've got it." Kurt was on his feet in an instant. "Keep watching, I've seen
this episode."
Teddy was lying in his crib with his blanket kicked off and tangled all around
his chubby little legs. This might have been what woke him up and he seemed to
be very unhappy about the fact, so Kurt untangled the blanket and tucked it
carefully around him. Teddy was still crying, though. His diaper was dry, so
Kurt tried talking to him quietly while stroking his downy hair, and then even
humming a lullaby – it had always worked for Drizzle when she was a baby – but
it didn't help at all.
Kurt took the baby out of the crib and held the warm bundle close to his chest,
rocking him gently. Still, the wailing only grew more desperate, and the
unhappiness in the little guy's voice was breaking Kurt's heart. He wanted to
help, he really did – if he only knew what Teddy needed. Even living with Driz
for three years hadn't made him an expert in speaking Baby. Then again,
everyone said Driz was an easy kid.
Maybe Teddy was hungry? It wasn't his usual time to eat yet, but Alice said he
sometimes woke up for milk early, so it was worth a try. Kurt didn't have the
heart to leave the baby in his crib while he prepared the milk, and the living
room lights were dimmed enough not to bother the sleepy little eyes, so he took
Teddy there, praying for the girls to sleep through the noise. Twin three-year-
olds on top of a fussy baby would be overkill.
"Could you hold him for a moment? I don't know what's bothering him, so I'm
just going to make him some milk and see if it helps."
Blaine was by his side in an instant, and Kurt gently placed Teddy in the
cradle of his husband's arms, trying not to let the ache in his chest show. Oh,
how he'd want – No, this was not the time to get maudlin, he needed to prepare
the milk for the little mouth that... huh, wasn't so open or loud anymore.
Teddy seemed to forget to cry the moment Blaine held him. He was looking up at
him with huge, round eyes, clearly intrigued. It might have been Blaine's black
hair since both Julian and Alice were blondes, or maybe the beard Blaine was
experimenting with lately, but something in Kurt's husband clearly had the
little one fascinated.
The feeling was mutual, it seemed. Blaine walked to the couch and sat back
down, smiling softly and never taking his eyes off the little face. Once he was
safely seated, he moved the baby so that it was settled snuggly between his
chest and one of his arms, and reached the other hand to touch the tiny fist
with his forefinger.
Teddy caught the finger and gurgled happily. Kurt melted where he stood.
He forgot about the milk and just stayed there, leaning against the kitchen
doorway and watching Blaine talk to the boy. His husband was using actual,
normal words, thank god – Kurt was never a fan of babbling nonsense at babies –
and quietly speaking about the fact that it was night and therefore dark and
time to sleep, about the nice cuddly blanket Teddy had just caught in his
little fist, about the fuzzy bunnies on his sleepsuit and about Uncle Kurt who
looked like he was about to turn into a puddle of adorable–
Wait, what?
Kurt snapped out of the reverie. He stuck his tongue out at Blaine, who laughed
quietly, and sat by his husband's side, trying not to grin too obviously.
Teddy was asleep.
Blaine insisted they should wait a moment longer before taking him back to his
crib, so they sat there, watching whatever it was they were watching. Except
Kurt didn't see a second of it. He was trying to be subtle as he kept glancing
at the heartbreakingly adorable picture by his side, but he wasn't fooling
himself. He was probably completely obvious, judging by the way the corner of
his husband's mouth twitched every now and then.
Finally, Blaine turned to him, catching him mid-glance, and smiled softly, all
the love reflected in his eyes.
"One day, baby." He said simply.
 
Clothes shopping for an elementary school teacher was boring. With no room for
extravagance and individual flair, where was the fun? Kurt sighed deeply, for
at least the twentieth time in the half hour they'd been in the store. He was
bored. Bored, bored, bored. And Blaine had disappeared somewhere among the
racks, probably lured by the call of yet another boring sweater vest, so Kurt
had no one to whine to.
Of course, he was glad Blaine had found a job he enjoyed right after graduation
– it turned out he loved teaching music, especially to young kids, and three
months into the school year he still hadn't complained once. He had an
additional outlet for his creativity in writing music for an off-Broadway
theater group (and a potential future career, Kurt believed, because damn he
was good), but most of his heart – and fashion choices, apparently – went into
teaching.
Kurt sighed yet again, glaring at the miles of nearly identical, boring shirts,
and briefly contemplated finding a salesperson to annoy, when he finally caught
sight of his husband's broad shoulders. He made his way towards Blaine,
meandering among the stacks of clothes and some dreadful mannequins, but
stopped dead when he realized where he was..
Blaine was standing in the baby clothes section, clearly mesmerized. He must
have noticed Kurt approaching in his peripheral vision, because he turned to
face him, with his best puppy-eyed expression already on full force. He raised
his hand to show what he held: on the small hanger was a tiny, pale blue onesie
with a simple print: i <3 my daddies.

Kurt got choked up immediately.
"Kurrrt? Can we get it?"
Kurt just nodded, focused on controlling his breathing, and turned to walk
towards the registers, feeling more than hearing Blaine follow him with the
rest of their purchases. He needed to get out of here, and fast. They were
supposed to go to dinner after they finished shopping, but Kurt wouldn't be
able to swallow a bite now anyway. He waited for Blaine to pay, not missing the
salesgirl's smile as she packed the onesie, and led the way directly to the
car.
The drive home was short and quiet, but the moment they found themselves in
their kitchen, Kurt turned to face his husband, his heart lodged somewhere in
his throat.
"Okay, spill. What's with the onesie, Bee?"
"Well it's adorable." Blaine answered with an innocent expression, but Kurt had
known his husband way too long to fall for this trick. There was more to it.
"And?"
"And it would look so cute on a baby, don't you think?" He paused and smiled
before whispering softly, with awe. "On our baby."
Kurt inhaled sharply, but managed to keep his voice steady and sweet.
"We don't have a baby, honey."
Blaine reached to take his hand, intertwining their fingers, and pulled Kurt
closer.
"Maybe it would be a good moment to think about one?" He asked quietly.
"Because of the onesie?" Kurt's lips were trembling now and there was no way to
stop it.
"No. Because we're ready." Blaine's eyes, golden and huge and so earnest, never
left Kurt's.
"Are we?"
"We are."
"But –" There were so many questions Kurt wanted to ask; it was just so sudden.
He didn't even know where to start. Blaine frowned a little, concerned.
"Wait, we are, right? It's not just me?"
All the questions could wait.
"Yes, Bee, we so are."
Over the next few months, a lot of things happened.
They decided that neither of them really cared about their child being
genetically theirs, so adoption would be the best way to go. Once that was
established, the whole process kick-started: there were appointments at the
adoption agency, paperwork, background checks and a home study, more paperwork,
and finally in March they were put on a waiting list. They were told that the
wait could take quite a bit because they wanted a newborn. Apparently, most
people did.
Then there was nothing much to do but wait. Well, that and find a new, bigger
apartment. They would need more space once the baby was there, and since they
could afford steeper rent now, new options and neighborhoods were open for
them.
The real estate deities must have been in favorable moods because two weeks
from the day they decided to look for a new place, they were already in it, and
deep in the process of redecorating. By the end of April they had their new
apartment bright and ready, and loved it. They might have also christened it
thoroughly by having sex on most of the available surfaces. (Except for the
nursery. That felt vaguely creepy somehow.)
 
One day at the beginning of May Blaine came home quietly excited.
"You know, I've been talking to Eve today." He said over dinner. Seeing Kurt's
blank expression, he clarified. "She's a substitute, kind of a friend. She
mostly works at the high school level, but sometimes she does a few weeks with
us. Anyway, she told me there's a girl at her last school that we might want to
talk to."
"How so?"
"Her name's Betty. She's six months pregnant. A senior, a straight A student
and kind of a computer geek from what I heard. Eve says she's looking into the
possibility of a direct adoption, so..."
Kurt felt his heart beat faster, but he knew too much about teen pregnancies to
let himself hope just yet.
"What about the father?"
"Unknown. An undetermined college kid at her one and only frat party,
apparently. Her parents support her, but they also think giving the baby up
would be best for everyone. I thought we could at least talk to her."
So they did.
It wasn't like the movies – mutual trust at first sight and adoption papers
ready to sign the next day. Betty had never considered giving her baby girl up
to a gay couple, but she was tolerant and open-minded, so it wasn't much of a
problem. She liked them enough after the first talk in a coffeeshop with her
parents present that she decided to meet with them a few times more before she
made up her mind.
She quickly got to the point of adoring Blaine, whom she treated more like a
friend than an adult. She swooned over the story of their love. She openly
appreciated Kurt's wit and was impressed by his career, and on their third
meeting, when he told her about Drizzle and Quinn's story, she started to look
at him with barely concealed awe.
"Wait, and your brother really brought Drizzle up alone? At sixteen?"
"Well, he wasn't alone. We were all there to help and support him, and our
parents are both pretty awesome. Driz might have had a somewhat unusual
childhood, but she's always been loved and has never felt like she wasn't
wanted, and that's what counts, I think. Finn got married when she was six, so
she has a proper mom now, and Quinn keeps in a loose kind of contact with her
too. Everyone had some tough choices to make back then, but Drizzle's happiness
was a priority."
Betty sat silent for a long moment before asking quietly.
"If... if you adopt her, can I see her one day? Or, I don't know, get a
picture, and learn how she is? Not like a mom, just... I think I'd like to know
that she's happy."
Blaine was already nodding when Kurt answered.
"Of course. We could work on open adoption, if you want. Our baby will know all
along that he or she was adopted, obviously."
She nodded and took a deep breath before smiling at them, eyes a little teary.
"Okay."
"Really?" Kurt could barely breathe. He hadn't let himself hope too much,
afraid of the heartbreak if he had, and now the joy was like a flood
threatening to drown him.
"Really. I want Lily to be loved. You are good people and I've never seen
adults so in love before. I know she'll be happy with you."
"Lily?" Blaine asked, his voice slightly breaking with emotion, too.
"Oh, that's just what I've been calling her to myself." Betty blushed and
stroked her belly. "It doesn't mean you have to keep the name."
"No," Kurt breathed. "I like it. Lily."
Blaine grinned and nodded, before bouncing uncontrollably. "Can I please please
please touch your belly now?"
Betty giggled and nodded, and as Blaine laid his palm carefully on the swell of
her stomach, she took Kurt's hand, too, and put it next to his husband's. Then
she spoke quietly.
"Hey Lily, these are your new dads. See how lucky you are? You'll have two dads
who will love you and take care of you, and – oh!"
Little Lily decided to welcome her new dads with a solid kick.
                                      ***
Sebastian hated hospitals. Fortunately, the room was the least hospital-like a
room in a hospital could be. In fact, it almost looked like a small conference
room.
They came too early, the four of them (it would be five, but Melissa got a cold
and didn't want to share). Kurt was pacing so much the room felt
claustrophobic, so Cooper took him out – theoretically for coffee, although
Sebastian hoped that he'd think better of it and get him chamomile tea instead,
or something else with a calming effect.
Xanax, maybe.
He stretched his legs and looked  at Blaine sitting beside him, completely
motionless, his face blank.
"At least you’re taking it like a pro."
This seemed to be a cue for Blaine to freak out. Oh, fantastic. Where were all
the  nurses with their drugs when you need them? It was supposed to be a
hospital, dammit.
"Do you think it's too late to reconsider?" Blaine's face was pale and tense,
his hands clenched into fists on his lap.
Sebastian did his best, but he was no expert in comforting and soothing.
"I'd say definitely too late, considering she's already out in this cruel world
and you've signed the adoption papers. You don't want to bail on your child on
the very first day, do you?"
Blaine groaned and covered his face with his hands.
Oh, great, Smythe, just the thing to say. He tried once more.
"No, hey, it's gonna be fine. Why the cold feet anyway? Did you just realize
you're giving up the last of your freedom? Don't worry, I heard it gets easier
in a few years. Well, eighteen in the worst case, when you can kick them out to
college. You'll be still young then."
Blaine shook his head and looked up at Sebastian, his face anxious.
"What if I screw up? What if I'm a terrible dad? There's no rehearsal for this,
and the books can only tell you so much, and what if I turn out like my father?
No one's ever showed me how to be a good dad, how am I–"
"Hey." The kid was really working himself up to a panic attack. Sebastian
touched his knee. "What about Burt? You look up to him, don't you? We all do."
Blaine seemed to breathe a little easier.
"I guess, but–"
"And you're talking like you're alone for the ride. You've got Kurt, remember?
You're together in this, and this is what you both want, right? Having a
family."
Blaine nodded shakily.
"And when it gets hard, since I'm sure it will sometimes, you two have other
people who care. Cooper and Mel, Kurt's family, Julian and the clan. Me, even,
though I don't know anything about kids and I intend to keep it that way. But
I'm good for drinking and unloading whenever you need it."
Blaine looked better, not so green anymore, and Sebastian gave himself a
virtual pat on the back.
"You'll be fine, kid. You won't be a perfect dad because there's no such thing,
but you're giving this little girl a loving home and a family who wants her.
That's a good start, I'd say."
"Thanks, Seb."
"Don't mention it." He briefly wondered if Cooper was  giving Kurt a similar
(well, probably better) pep talk somewhere outside.
Just then the door opened and the other two walked in, followed by a plump,
motherly-looking nurse wheeling a plastic bassinet in front of her. A quiet
mewling sound was coming from the little bundle in it.
"Alright, here we are." The nurse declared with a smile. "Everything's in
order, you can take your little girl home now."
Sebastian discreetly took out his iPhone and pressed record.
She scooped up the kid (and wow, that was one tiny baby) looking between Kurt
and Blaine. Neither of them paid any attention to the rest of the world
anymore, all nerves gone from their faces, nothing but happy anticipation left.
Kurt reached out and the nurse carefully placed the bundle in his arms. Blaine
joined them, embracing both his husband and their new baby daughter.
The mewling stopped.
The nurse grinned and took some kind of a form from her pocket. "So what's her
name, for the record?"
"Lily Elizabeth Hummel." Blaine answered, and Kurt smiled.
"Hi, Lily." He whispered. "Welcome to the world."
Sebastian rubbed at his suddenly stinging eyes. Damn air-conditioning.
                                    THE END
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