fleurdeliseebckp: (autumn)
[personal profile] fleurdeliseebckp

part one.

Blaine can’t say he’s slept in the past week. He’s haunted by the memories of that night in Kurt’s room whenever he closes his eyes. He’s on the edge and even Artie noticed that something is up. He gave up asking what’s wrong when Blaine snapped at him to mind his own business two days earlier.

He hasn’t confessed since that night and that, too, is gnawing away at his mind. Kurt probably hasn’t, either, because he still looks alright. They haven’t talked since. In fact, Kurt barely acknowledges him.

It’s not the other way around, as much as Blaine wishes he could get the boy out of his mind. Maybe he found it hard to focus his attention on something else than Kurt before, but now it’s like he can’t think of anything else.

It’s dinner time a week exactly after their terrible mistake when Kurt talks to him. Well, he talks to both Artie and Blaine, but Blaine counts this as a victory.

Kurt walks oddly slowly as he enters the refectory and that detail alone worries Blaine. He’s watched Kurt’s every move enough to know his demeanour and this is uncharacteristic of him. He winces as he sits down and keeps his back ramrod straight instead of leaning against the back of his chair.

“Hey, Kurt!” Artie greets him lightly.

“Hi,” Kurt answers tightly before swallowing. From up close, his eyes look bloodshot.

“Are you alright?” Blaine asks cautiously.

Kurt purses his lips and shakes his head. Tears begin pooling in his eyes and Blaine has a hard time not reaching for Kurt’s hand.

“Did you know they still use flogging nowadays?” Kurt chokes out before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and wiping his eyes angrily. “Because I found out firsthand.”

Artie whistles. “Whatever you did, Kurt, I never imagined you’d have the guts to do anything to earn a punishment like this. I’m almost impressed.”

“Shut up, Artie,” Blaine snaps before he can help it.

“Yeah, you know what? You two are boring lately. Whatever is going on, you better sort it out. Tell me when you have, because I need a break, alright?” With that, Artie rolls away from them and joins some of their classmates at another table.

“You confessed it?” Blaine breathes out.

“What choice did I have?” Kurt hisses.

“Did you—”

“No, I didn’t give them your name, Blaine, but they probably know anyway. They’re not idiots. They know about your—your issues, and they know we’re friends.”

“I don’t want to get flogged,” Blaine whines, more to himself than to Kurt.

“Unless you confess, they have nothing against you but assumptions. You’re safe.”

They stop talking as they are handed their meals and Kurt seems resolute to stay mute.

“When did they do it?” Blaine finally asks when he can’t stand the silence anymore.

“Just now. My shirt is surely ruined.”

“Let me take care of your wounds.”

“What? No!” Kurt snaps. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough, already? Look, just leave me alone, okay? You’ve caused me enough problems. Please.”

Kurt pushes his peas around his plate with his fork for a second or two before roughly pushing his plate away and leaving the refectory. Blaine stares after him, numb with confusion and shock.

He stares at Kurt from a distance in the following days. The other boy seems decided to never talk to Blaine again, which he can live with. Maybe.

“You fought with Kurt, didn’t you?” Artie asks in a hushed voice as they’re walking back from Mass one very cold Sunday morning.

“What makes you say this?” Blaine asks lightly, frowning in mock-confusion at him.

“Only my legs are crippled, Blaine. Don’t think I’m an idiot,” Artie snaps.

Blaine sighs and looks around. They’re standing in the central place, the village slowly leaving the church around them and going back to their Sunday leisure activities. He catches sight of Kurt, who tightens his scarf around his neck and hurries back towards the school. When he looks back at Artie, he sees he followed Blaine’s gaze and is now frowning.

“You could say that. We didn’t exactly fight, but it’s clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Artie squints at Blaine with a pensive look for a while and Blaine shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. “Are you—wait. No. You can’t be, can you?”

“I’m what?” Blaine asks sharply.

Artie leans forward and Blaine bends down to listen. “Are you like Kurt? You know—that?” he whispers.

Blaine’s eyes widen and he jerks backwards. “What makes you think that?”

“You never told me why you were here. Why would parents send a nice, clever, and well-behaved boy like you in a place like this if there wasn’t something that needs fixing in him, you tell me.”

Blaine groans and sighs. He takes hold of the handles of Artie’s chair and pushes him through the village until he finds a quiet corner. Once there, he leans against the wall of the building behind which they hid and rubs his hands over his face.

“Okay, so, what if I am like Kurt?”

When Blaine looks at Artie, he’s grinning. “Well, he likes you. You either turned him down, don’t see it, or—” he studies Blaine’s face, who blushes under the scrutinising gaze. “Or you—no. I can’t believe it. You guys—”

“We kissed,” Blaine mumbles, agonising with a mix of shame and embarrassment under Artie’s gaze.

“I knew it! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You have to share those things with me, I’m your friend!”

“This isn’t an exciting detail of my life, Artie, for Christ’s sake, it’s a traumatising one!”

“Yes, of course, because Hummel is ugly and it’s a hardship kissing him.”

“But it’s wrong!” Blaine whines, and to hell with maturity because this is the first time he voices this with someone who doesn’t compulsively crosses himself.

“Look, you and Kurt, sometimes I think you’re too impressionable. You let those sermons and all that completely dictate your behaviour like it’s God sent.” Blaine stares down at Artie, who shrugs. “Yeah, it is. Fine. But look how miserable it makes you.”

“But it’s what we’re supposed to do.”

“I was raised on a farm, Blaine. I almost lost my mother because she gave birth to too many kids, and then we were constantly starved because we had too many mouths to feed. Yet, having kids is what my parents were supposed to do. I had to nurse some of my siblings and later see them die because of what my parents were supposed to do. So don’t go and tell me that everything we’re taught is right. Sometimes, you have to listen to what feels right for you, as a person, despite the rest.”

“My father probably disowned me,” Blaine points out, clinging to anything that could prove Artie wrong. “How is that right for me?”

“Unless you want to be him, you don’t need him.”

Blaine slips against the wall until he’s crouching on the ground, his face hidden in his hands. “I can’t do that. I can’t let him down. He expects me to be cured.”

“Jesus, it’s like talking to Kurt all over again,” Artie groans in frustration, rolling back and forth.

“Don’t swear.”

“Yeah, I can see why you get along with him. Seriously, Blaine. The only person you’re letting down right now is yourself. He obviously doesn’t care about you if he sent you here.”

“But it’s wrong—”

“You’ll tell me you gave a damn about religion before being sent here? I heard you muttering the wrong prayers at Mass on your first days. Can you honestly say that what you’re thinking when you kiss Kurt is how wrong it is?”

Blaine shrugs and looks up at Artie. “What should I do?”

“Endure through the rest of the school year, graduate, and live to kiss lots of boys.” Artie starts leaving the backstreet and heading towards the school. “Ah, and by-the-bye, Kurt’s an atheist,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing around a corner.

Blaine’s eyes widen and he starts after Artie, his shoes slipping on the snow and causing him to skid as he stops next to him. “What?”

“He never told me or anyone, but it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Artie says with a smirk that Blaine almost misses in his haste to go try and find Kurt.

He opens the doors roughly, wincing when the noise reverberates through the building. He has no idea where to find Kurt so he heads towards his dorm room, where he’s probably spending his Sunday reading.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he almost trips over Kurt. The boy is scrubbing the hardwood floor on all fours and he pushes his hair out of his eyes with his wrist before looking up at Blaine.

“You are ruining my work,” he snaps, eyeing the trail of water Blaine’s shoes left on the floor.

“And why exactly are you scrubbing the floor?”

“I’m taking on more chores. Because of—you know. I’m punishing myself by ruining my hands,” Kurt says haughtily and resumes working.

Blaine looks at Kurt for a moment, at the way the muscles of his back stretch the starched fabric of his uniform shirt and he licks his lips reflexively. Kurt’s head is bent down and the nape of his neck glows white in the sunlight pouring from the tall windows of the hallway. Blaine sees Kurt’s hands shaking before he realises Kurt is looking at him again.

“What do you want?” Kurt asks in a strained voice.

“To talk to you.”

“You know what can happen when we talk.” Nevertheless, Kurt drops the brush back in the bucket of water and gets up, wiping his hands on his pants. “Where do you want to go?”

“Follow me.”

Blaine doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the storage room where he followed Kurt weeks ago. He opens the door and waits until Kurt is inside before stepping in, closing the door and pressing his back against it.

Kurt is standing a short distance from him, avoiding his eyes. “It’s like you’re not even trying to get over me. Don’t think I can’t see you staring.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” Blaine replies with bravado, holding Kurt’s eyes when he glares at him.

“Do you want to see my back? It’s healing quite slowly. You need a reminder of what happens to boys like us?”

Kurt starts pacing back and forth, disappearing in the shadows and reappearing, the pale sunlight breaking through the dusty windows making his face look ghostly. He’s twisting his hands nervously and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, a deep crease on his forehead.

“I talked to Artie,” Blaine says casually to fill the silence.

“Great. This is breaking news. You talked to a friend. Can I go now?” Kurt deadpans, stopping at last and shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“He said something—surprising about you.”

“What would that be?” Kurt asks primly, his chin raised.

“He said you’re an atheist.”

Kurt lets out a joyless laugh. “And you believed him? My poor naïve Blaine.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I hear you ramble on and on about how wrong we are, but I hear the same words every Sunday morning. Have you ever been honest with me, Kurt, or was everything always a lie?”

Kurt opens his mouth and closes it. His countenance falls at once and he sighs, leaning heavily against a shelf. “It’s your fault.”

“What?” Blaine snaps. “How is that my fault? Why is it always my fault? It takes two to kiss.”

“Why did you insist to be my friend, Blaine? I’ve been nothing but mean to you ever since we met.”

“Not always. Sometimes, you gave me glimpses of the real Kurt.”

“Yes, and it was a brilliant idea,” Kurt sneers. “It’s all a game for you, isn’t it? Charm a boy, get him to kiss you, and then act like you are a victim in all of it? Is that how it works with you? Because maybe that guy in your hometown didn’t suffer any consequences for it, but I will. Hell, I already have!”

Kurt pushes past Blaine and goes towards the door.

“Wait!”

Kurt shakes his head and lets his shoulders fall, his arms wrapping protectively around himself. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know, Kurt. All I know is that when I’m with you, I don’t feel wrong, or disgusting. I’ve been honest with you. I was hoping you would do the same.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kurt shouts, making the two of them jump. “Yes! I’m living a lie!” he continues, lowering his voice. “I don’t know that I’m an atheist, Blaine, but I’m not sure I believe in any of this. Why do you think Artie calls me a pillar-biter? I pretend like I believe to strive through this hell but as soon as I’m out? You can bet I’m never stepping inside a church again.”

Blaine blinks a few times in shock. “But—you’re so intense with religion and how wrong we are. I know you said it was easier to pretend but you are beyond pretending, Kurt. This is almost obsessive.”

“I’ve convinced myself I believe in all of it. Or I don’t know. That maybe if I follow their rules I might be cured.”

“So you’re the coward. Not me.”

“You call it cowardice, I call it survival instinct.” Kurt glances up briefly. “I disgust you, don’t I?”

Blaine swallows and squares his jaw. “You’ve never been more interesting to me.”

Kurt laughs nervously. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You panicked in my room, the other night. Where do you stand, now?”

Blaine shrugs. “I don’t know, but I know that you make it feel like we don’t need fixing and that’s good enough for me.”

Blaine sees it on Kurt’s face the moment he lets go of whatever restraints he’d forced around his mind. He pushes himself off the door to take a tentative step forward. “Well, that’s good,” Kurt whispers, walking closer until Blaine is caught between the door and Kurt’s body.

“What are you doing?” Blaine asks with a smirk.

“I don’t know. I’m following my instincts for a change.” Kurt presses his forehead against Blaine’s and breathes out. “This could have very grave consequences.”

“Not if no one finds out,” Blaine replies in a breath. He wraps his arms around Kurt’s neck and inches his chin forward until their lips touch. Kurt kisses him back, his hands going up to rest on Blaine’s hips.

“What are you suggesting?” Kurt asks against his lips, stroking Blaine’s hipbones with his thumbs.

“I don’t know. Any ideas?”

“All I know is that I’m tired of fighting. For once, I want to get what I want.”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t, then,” Blaine says before kissing Kurt again, humming when Kurt wraps his arms around his waist.

They kiss until Blaine’s jaw becomes sore and he feels his neck cramp up from the angle. He pulls away and laughs when Kurt breathes out loudly.

“What?” Kurt asks softly.

“You’re adorable, that’s all.”

Kurt smiles and it goes all the way to his eyes. “So are you,” he says in a breathy voice before kissing the tip of Blaine’s nose. “But I’ve got to go, now. Those floors won’t scrub themselves.” Kurt takes a step back but Blaine keeps his arms around him. “Blaine,” he scolds playfully.

“Come to my room tonight?”

Kurt studies his face for a moment before smiling. “Okay.”

They kiss one more time and Kurt lingers against Blaine until he pushes him away with a laugh. “Go! I’ll see you tonight.”

---

Kurt really likes kissing Blaine and he doesn’t have the chance to do it as often as he wants. They risk going to each other’s room past curfew every other day but it’s not enough. Kurt needs more and it’s slowly gnawing at his sanity.

“We need—” Kurt pants. “We need to breathe.” He rolls off Blaine and tries to calm down. Feeling Blaine’s warm body next to his makes it almost impossible and Kurt has half a mind to get up and pace his room for a while before they pass the point of no return. They haven’t allowed themselves to, yet.

“I don’t want to,” Blaine whispers in his ear, nuzzling the side of Kurt’s face, his warm breath tickling his skin and making him squirm. “Please?”

Blaine lets his hand trail down Kurt’s body until he reaches the waistband of his pants and settles it there, the heel of his palm close to the base of Kurt’s cock.

“We’ll get caught. B—Blaine, this is too dangerous,” Kurt stammers when Blaine’s warm lips press on the side of his neck and suck briefly at his pulse point.

“Not if we’re quiet,” Blaine says against his skin. He rolls on his side and holds himself up with an elbow so he can unbutton Kurt’s shirt and make him whine when he presses a kiss to his chest. Kurt throws his head back, his back arching under Blaine’s white hot touch on his over-sensitive skin and his eyes fall on the crucifix above his bed.

“Blaine,” Kurt breathes out, his fingers tangling in Blaine’s hair. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” Blaine sits back on his knees and through the darkness, Kurt can make out that he’s frowning.

“This,” Kurt says quickly before getting up on the bed and taking the crucifix off the wall. “I can’t do this if Jesus is watching.” Kurt gets off the bed just as Blaine lets himself fall face first into the pillow to muffle his laughter. “Stop laughing, you’ll get us caught!”

Looking around his room, Kurt tries to think of where he could hide the crucifix, all the while mindlessly tapping it in his left hand. Finally settling on his socks drawer, he opens it and buries it at the very bottom.

On the bed, Blaine is still laughing and when Kurt climbs back, Blaine turns his head to look at him with a grin that Kurt can barely make out. He wishes he could see his face more clearly but it is way beyond their curfew and any light would attract the night guardian.

“Be quiet!” Kurt hisses playfully before pulling Blaine down with him and curling up against his side. He smiles when Blaine wraps his arms around him. Kurt tangles his legs with Blaine’s and moves closer to him, resting his forehead against his chest. He feels Blaine putting his chin on the top of his head and Kurt presses a kiss over his heart.

“I’m going to fall asleep,” Blaine says in a thick voice.

Kurt blinks up at him, himself on the edge of sleep. “You should go, then.”

Blaine nods but makes no move to leave. “What time is it?”

Kurt turns around, grinning when Blaine loops his arms around his waist to pull him closer, and takes his pocket watch from his nightstand. “It’s ten to midnight.”

“We still have some time, then,” Blaine mutters, his warm breath on the back of Kurt’s neck sending a shiver down his spine.

“We do.” Shifting to lie on his back and pulling Blaine above him, Kurt bites his lip. “We have to be very, very quiet.”

“I’ll try.” Blaine kisses him and when he pulls away, the noise makes Kurt hold his breath.

“Even this is loud,” he whispers. He sneaks his hands under Blaine’s pajama top and lightly scratches his nails down his back. “We can’t make a sound.”

Kurt pushes himself up on his elbows to kiss Blaine, who shifts his weight on his knees and wraps his arms around Kurt’s back, holding him up and close to his chest. Kurt whimpers in the kiss and clings to Blaine, who lowers him back on the mattress and carefully lays his weight over Kurt, kissing him still.

They start kissing languidly, more tongues mingling than anything else, and it goes straight to Kurt’s groin. He drags his hands down Blaine’s back once more and settles them low on his back, pulling Blaine’s hips down in the process.

Blaine breathes out loudly right when they hear the floor outside of the room creaking as someone walks by and stops right at the door. Kurt puts his hand over Blaine’s mouth and holds his own breath, hoping the person standing outside his room will go away. Blaine is barely breathing above him and he must be cramping up but moving is too dangerous.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Hummel?”

Kurt’s eyes widen and he looks at Blaine in panic when the doorknob squeaks. Despite the darkness, Kurt can see that Blaine’s eyes are almost comically wide.

“Y—yes,” he stammers, his throat dry. “Everything is fine.”

“I thought I heard laughter and talking.”

“No!” Kurt answers too quickly. Blaine winces. “I was talking to myself. It helps me think.”

“Have you seen what time it is? Be quiet or I’ll have to report you to Father James.”

“I’m sorry. I will be,” Kurt says sheepishly.

At last, right when Kurt’s nerves are about to give in and send him into a hysterical fit, the footsteps start again and grow distant. Kurt waits another minute before letting out a sigh in relief.

“Oh my god,” Blaine breathes out, sitting on his heels and rubbing his face with his hands. “That was close.”

Kurt nods, his eyes still on the door. His heart is racing in his chest and he can hear his blood rushing in his ears. His hands shake as he moves them to card his fingers through his hair.

“We can’t risk this anymore,” he breathes out, moving his eyes to Blaine.

Blaine opens his mouth to say something but closes it right after. It isn’t the first time they almost get caught. There was that one time Kurt had a coughing fit in Blaine’s room and that time Blaine fell off Kurt’s bed, or when Kurt almost got caught going back to his room at two in the morning. They’re playing with fire and they can’t deny it anymore.

“I know,” Blaine replies, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Kurt’s shoulder. “I know.”

“This isn’t it,” Kurt says in a rush. “This isn’t over. We are not over.”

Blaine looks up at Kurt and shakes his head. “No. Definitely not. We’ll just have to find new ways to—to see each other.”

Blaine nods and kisses Kurt. It’s short and chaste but Kurt finds himself leaning into it anyway, chasing Blaine’s lips as he moves away. “I should go.”

Kurt nods and climbs off his bed, Blaine on his heels. Careful not to make the floor creak, Kurt walks to the door and waits until Blaine is right behind him to open it. He peaks outside to make sure the corridor is empty. Shutting it silently, he turns to Blaine.

“You can go. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.”

“Good night, Kurt.” Blaine kisses him again.

Kurt kisses him back and pushes Blaine away with a soft laugh when the boy tries to lengthen the kiss. “Go! Good night.”

---

Being safe turns out to be incredibly frustrating.

“Why do I feel like I could see you more often before?” Kurt groans under his breath as they walk down the hallway between their morning classes.

“Because you could,” Blaine replies, glancing around nervously to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “I’m scared that if we act friendly, they’ll suspect something.”

“They already are.” Kurt nods his head towards three Brothers walking past them and frowning pointedly at Kurt.

“They’re not. They can’t be. They’re upset we’re talking in the hallway.”

“You’re not exactly subtle in the way to look at me, Blaine,” Kurt hisses. “If you ruin everything because of—”

I would ruin everything? Again, it’s my fault. Sure, you’re completely innocent in this. After all, I made you shove me into a broom closet yesterday and forced you to kiss me. You had nothing to do with it.”

“Blaine!” Kurt glares at him and Blaine returns it before turning his back to Kurt to enter the classroom.

Kurt sighs with frustration as he sits at his own desk. From across the room, Blaine is resolutely looking outside the window, undermining Kurt’s efforts to meet his eyes. His jaw is set and his shoulders look tensed. Kurt manages to stay focused on the lesson for about five minutes before his eyes drift back to Blaine.

He inhales sharply when he sees Blaine blatantly looking at him. The look on Blaine’s face sends Kurt’s heart racing and he has to scratch his nails on the wool of his trousers to keep a straight face as heat flares up in his stomach. Kurt holds Blaine’s eyes, lifting his chin in defiance, until Blaine licks his lips—unconscious or not, it forces Kurt to look away as a blush creeps up his cheeks and he finds himself breathless.

Blaine grabs Kurt’s wrist on his way out of the classroom after the lesson. Kurt’s heartbeat picks up again and he stumbles after Blaine, who almost races down the hallways.

“Wait, wait,” Kurt eventually says. “Take a right at the next corner. Third door on the left side.”

Blaine nods stiffly and a minute later, he’s groaning in frustration as the doorknob refuses to turn. “It’s locked,” he says gruffly before turning to stare at Kurt with an annoyed frown, his hands on his hips.

“I know,” Kurt says airily as he retrieves a key from the inside pocket of his blazer. When Blaine’s eyebrows raise in bafflement, Kurt chuckles. “I was sent there last year to clean up after I confessed that—” Kurt’s voice falters and he lowers it. “—that I’d – hum – touched myself.” His cheeks burn but he forces himself to look at Blaine, who looks dazed and awed.

“And you kept the key?” Blaine asks after clearing his throat.

“No,” Kurt says as he unlocks the door. “I ‘forgot’ to give it back one night and had my friend Noah craft me a double. I came here a few times since. It’s quieting.”

“Artie told me about the Puckermans,” Blaine comments.

Kurt can’t stop his face from falling. “Puck, in his own special way, was a really good friend. Artie and I haven’t heard from him in months.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Blaine says softly and he strokes Kurt’s back.

Kurt gives him a tight smile and then opens the door, coughing a little at the dust it lifts. Looking around briefly, Kurt steps in and pulls Blaine after him, shutting the door before being pressed against it by Blaine.

“Wait—” Kurt says when Blaine leans in to kiss him. Fumbling around blindly, Kurt locates the doorknob and turns the lock back on. “We shouldn’t be disturbed, now.”

“Good,” Blaine growls before pressing his lips to Kurt’s.

Blaine kisses him with insistence, his hands firmly gripping Kurt’s hips and his body pressing up against Kurt’s. Kurt kisses him back, his arms looping loosely around Blaine’s neck. He’s already panting when Blaine decides to move in closer and slip his thigh between Kurt’s. With a gasp, Kurt rolls his hips down against Blaine’s thigh and sends his head colliding against the door with a dull thud that makes his skull throb.

Kurt pushes himself off the door and grips Blaine’s shoulders tightly to stir him towards the stairs. Blaine misses the first step and stumbles backwards, landing on his ass with a yelp. Kurt follows after him and sits in his lap, his hands gripping Blaine’s face to kiss him again sloppily.

“What about lunch?” Blaine gasps out, breaking the kiss.

“I don’t care,” Kurt growls before pressing his lips to Blaine’s jaw, undoing his tie and the top button of his shirt before tugging it away and pressing his lips to the crook of Blaine’s neck, kissing and licking and sucking until Blaine keens and slips against the step, the rough wood making a scraping sound against the fabric of his blazer.

Blaine wraps his hand around the nape of Kurt’s neck and brings his mouth back to his, kissing him feverishly. “I want you so much,” Blaine mutters against Kurt’s lips.

Kurt whines and nods, wrapping his arms tightly around Blaine’s shoulders. Blaine moves his hands from Kurt’s hair to his neck and then down his chest, where he starts tugging on Kurt’s blazer. Kurt shifts back to take it off, nearly elbowing Blaine in the eye, and drops it on the floor behind them. Immediately, Blaine starts unbuttoning his shirt and Kurt throws his head back, panting. He focuses on the ceiling and tries to regulate his breathing even as Blaine presses a kiss to his chest and Kurt can feel the warm heat of it through his undershirt.

Kissing back up to Kurt’s mouth, Blaine grips the back of Kurt’s thighs and turns them around, kneeling between Kurt’s leg on the step below and looking up at him with a smirk. Kurt leans back with his elbows on the step above him and looks down at Blaine with a quirked eyebrow. The sharp edge of the step is digging in his back, the sensitive skin covering the fading wounds stinging.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Blaine says and it’s so earnest that Kurt bursts out laughing. He puts his hand over his mouth to stifle it and doesn’t miss the spark that appeared in Blaine’s eyes at the sound.

“That makes two of us.”

Blaine smiles at him sweetly and Kurt returns it, reaching forward to stroke Blaine’s cheek. Blaine leans into his hand, closing his eyes and turning his head to kiss his palm.

“You’re beautiful,” Kurt breathes out, blushes, and then lets out a nervous laugh.

Blaine chuckles and shrugs. “Not as much as you.”

“Aw!” Kurt coos and leans forward to kiss Blaine’s forehead lingeringly.

When he pulls back, Blaine looks at him again and bites his lip. Before Kurt can ask him what’s wrong, Blaine’s hands move to his belt and he undoes it clumsily. Kurt stares at him in shock as Blaine moves on to the button of his trousers and only manages to squeak in alarm when Blaine tugs the zipper down.

“Is this okay?” Blaine asks with his eyes riveted to Kurt’s crotch.

“Yes,” Kurt lets out in a breath and then keens when Blaine hesitantly presses his hand to Kurt’s crotch.

Blaine begins slowly stroking him through his underwear, his breath as loud and laboured as Kurt’s. Kurt watches him in silence, his lips parted in awe. This isn’t the first time they touch each other there, but neither of them had ever done it this boldly, instead using hesitant touches made by shaking hands to explore the other’s clothed body in the dark, with their eyes closed. This is different; it feels more real when he can see Blaine’s eyes fleeting nervously around, see his cherry-red lips parted and shining with saliva, see his trembling hands.

With a gulp, Kurt hooks his fingers under the waistband of his underwear and starts pulling them down, his pants following. Blaine leans back and keeps watching as Kurt pushes his hips off the step to slip his clothes off.

“Wait,” Blaine croaks out. He takes his blazer off and motions for Kurt to move before putting it on the step. “You’ll get splinters.”

Kurt bends forward to kiss Blaine briefly before pushing his clothes past his knees and leaning back on the step. He feels exposed under Blaine’s unwavering eyes and shifts with unease, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling.

“Kurt, oh my god,” Blaine lets out, his voice breaking. “Oh my god.” Blaine wraps his hand around Kurt’s cock and squeezes tentatively, repeating ‘oh my god’ again when Kurt moans. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Is this okay?”

Kurt rolls his eyes fondly. “Yes,” he says in an exasperated sigh, his breath catching when Blaine moves his hand up and down once. “This is very okay.”

Blaine nods stiffly and starts stroking Kurt’s cock faster. He flicks his thumb over the head experimentally and Kurt has to bite his lip to stifle a moan, his hips bucking up into the tight circle of Blaine’s fist.

Blaine grows bolder as minutes pass, twisting his hand and pressing his thumb under the head of Kurt’s cock or in the slit, almost too rough and quick and he keeps this up until Kurt is keening and squirming, trying to find something to hold on to. He grips the edge of the step and spreads his legs wider, moaning when Blaine speeds up his hand and then stops abruptly to lap tentatively at a bead of precome.

“Oh shit,” Kurt groans. “Blaine—don’t—” he warns when Blaine does it again.

Blaine moves back to grin smugly at Kurt just as he starts coming, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his hands around the step, his eyes rolling back and his mouth opening around breathless moans while waves of pleasure course through his body, making him shake.

Blaine is too taken aback to do anything but hold Kurt’s cock steady as it pulses in his hand, painting his fingers with white streaks.

Kurt falls back against the step, wincing as it digs under his ribs. He closes his eyes and lets go of the step to rub his face. He feels like his limbs are made of cotton balls and there are still tremors coursing through his body every now and then.

Kurt lowers his hands to look at Blaine and as soon as their eyes meet, Blaine is leaning over him and kissing him, one hand tangling in his hair and the other holding him up.

“Oh my god, Kurt,” he groans against his lips, shifting to press closer and inadvertently brushing his erection against Kurt’s bare hip. “I never thought I would love it so much—it was—you know how we’re both here because we like boys, but I never really realised that I liked—you were completely a man and I loved it so much, Kurt, so much, oh my god,” Blaine rambles, covering Kurt’s face in kisses and rolling his hips against Kurt’s, seeking friction through his layers of clothes.

“Blaine,” Kurt says with a laugh. “Calm down, or you’ll—”

Blaine tenses against Kurt before he can finish his sentence. He buries his face against Kurt’s shoulder and shakes through his orgasm, his hand in Kurt’s hair pulling until it stings in a way that shoots straight through Kurt and makes his cock twitch painfully.

When he collapses on top of him, Kurt winces again and shifts. When he can’t find a comfortable position, he abandons and wraps his arms around Blaine, stroking his back soothingly while he pants against Kurt’s neck.

Kurt strokes Blaine’s hair soothingly, clicking his tongue when he looks down to see the gel utterly ruined, curls pointing in every direction. Blaine eventually looks up and they grin at each other.

“This is really uncomfortable,” Kurt says after a while.

“Oh, sorry.” Blaine leans back on his knees and then gets up. “Oh my god, look at you. You look so debauched.”

Kurt turns a deep shade of red when Blaine starts looking him up and down, his eyes lingering on Kurt’s dick. “Why don’t you help me up instead of making me uncomfortable?”

Blaine gives him a cheeky grin and then holds out his right hand. Kurt eyes it with a quirked eyebrow until Blaine realises his mistake and blushes. “Oh, huh. Sorry.”

He wipes his hand on the back of his shirt and offers Kurt his hand again. Kurt takes it and let’s Blaine pull him up. He swiftly pulls his pants up while Blaine dusts their blazers.

“How do I look?” Blaine asks after he’s buttoned his blazer.

Kurt looks at him appraisingly, the light pouring from the lucarne up in the attic putting golden hues in Blaine’s eyes. “Handsome.” Blaine smiles smugly so Kurt adds: “and disheveled. You need to go to your room and fix your hair.”

“So do you.”

“I wonder why,” Kurt asks coyly. “I guess it has to do with how you nearly pulled it out.”

“You liked it,” Blaine teases, smirking.

“Maybe.”

They both grin and Blaine heads for the door. Kurt follows after him and pushes it close as soon as Blaine opened it. Wrapping his arms around Blaine’s waist, Kurt presses his body against his back and buries his face in his neck.

Blaine presses back into him, sighing deeply. “Let’s go.”

Blaine opens the door again and steps out. Just as Kurt is about to follow him, Blaine slams the door shut. Kurt jumps back, narrowly avoiding getting his nose broken by it.

“Mr. Anderson, what are you doing here?”

“I—huh. I was fetching something for Bro—Brother—” Blaine stammers out and Kurt slowly turns the lock, holding his breath when it clicks in position.

“Do not lie to me, Mr. Anderson,” Father James snaps. “How did you get in there?” There’s a moment of silence. “Who’s in there? Who was there with you?”

“No—no one, I swear!” Blaine replies too quickly.

“Open this door.”

“I can’t—”

“Open this door immediately, Mr. Anderson.”

“I don’t have the key! I locked it from the inside when I left, I don’t—”

“If you think this is all a game, Mr. Anderson, I have a thing or two to teach you. As for the student who’s hiding in there, I recommend you step out right now if you want to avoid severe punishment.”

“There’s no one there, Father,” Blaine repeats. His voice is small and pleading and Kurt has half a mind to step outside and take part of the blame.

He’s actually about to unlock the door and step outside when someone starts turning the knob aggressively. “Open this door!”

“There’s no one, I told you!”

“Mr. Anderson, you will go find Brother Peter. He has the key to the attic and will settle this misunderstanding once and for all, unless your friend wants to step outside and share the punishment with you.” A pause. “Nothing? You found yourself a cowardly friend, Mr. Anderson. Now go to the refectory and come back with Brother Peter. I will wait here.”

Kurt listens to Blaine’s footsteps fade away and he backs away from the door, putting his hand over his mouth to muffle his terrified breathing. He starts climbing the stairs as silently as he can and looks around for somewhere to hide, his vision almost blurred by his panic. Taking a steadying breath, Kurt starts pacing the room. Nothing will do; all he finds are boxes of books and broken chairs and he knows there’s nothing, he cleaned that place himself.

Heading further among the rafters, Kurt once again feels panic overcoming him when he hears the door opening in the distance. Biting down on his fist to stifle his whine, Kurt takes a sharp turn right and sees a broken refectory table, the exact one that was broken when Noah Puckerman was caught stealing and banned from the premises. The table top is resting against the back wall and there’s just enough space behind its angled surface for Kurt to crawl behind. Climbing over a box and nearly scattering its content everywhere, Kurt dives behind it just as he hears footsteps reaching the top of the stairs.

“I told you there was no one,” Blaine says in a nervous voice.

“I would suggest you keep quiet, Mr. Anderson,” Father James replies coldly. “Now is not the time for hide and seek, young man. I am out of patience.”

“Father,” Brother Peter says calmly. “I think Mr. Anderson is telling the truth. There is no one here.”

“I’m not ready to believe this, I know Mr. Anderson’s leanings and he’s been acting a little too brazenly, lately. Alright, then, maybe he will tell us how he acquired a key to this door and we’ll work from there?”

“I—” Blaine’s voice falters. Kurt has no idea how he’ll get out of this one without dragging Kurt down with him. He should probably step out and take the blame. Kurt starts crawling backwards when Blaine talks again. “I found it in my room. In—in one of the drawers. I dropped it the other day and the key fell out. The previous occupant must have left it there.”

“And you thought you’d go around and try to find which door it unlocked? Curiosity is a reprehensible trait, Mr. Anderson, and a sin when put to bad use.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Give me that key, now, so there is no repeat of today.”

It’s over. Blaine won’t have any key to give them. Kurt has no choice, now. Reaching into the pocket of his blazer, Kurt fumbles in it to retrieve the key and then leave his hideout. His heart quickens when he can’t find it. Before he even has time to panic about it, Blaine speaks up.

“Yes, of course. Here it is.”

“Very well. You’ll come with me to my office where we’ll find a punishment suitable for your shameless lies and disregard of school regulations. As for your friend, he can count himself lucky this time.”

“There’s no one else here, Father,” Blaine says, his voice growing distant as they head for the stairs.

“Yes, of course. And you’ll tell me the red mark on your neck is a mosquito bite you miraculously got in the middle of December, I imagine?”

part three.
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