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[personal profile] fleurdeliseebckp
Author: [livejournal.com profile] fleurdelisee
Word Count: 9,000+
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Summary: Kurt has never been kissed and he’s fine with it. Most of the time. But then, his coworkers take him out for his twenty-first birthday and there’s a (gorgeous) stranger who kisses him to get away from a guy who just won’t understand that he’s interested.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Author Notes: Written for a friend after she all but send me the entire plot to this as a prompt. Also, screw canon, Blaine is the same age than Kurt in this. It’s just simpler that way.
The title is from Lua by Bright Eyes, but it is in no way representative of the level of angst present in this fic. Don’t panic.



The music is loud and thumping, every vibration rattling in his ribcage and shaking his very soul; everywhere around him, bodies are undulating and pressing together and then away, over and over again and Kurt wishes he were anywhere but here. He’d take Rachel crying because of a break-up over this club.

“There you go, birthday boy!” one of his friend shouts over the music as she shoves a bright blue drink at him. He nearly drops it; it’s the fourth one of the evening and his fingers feel numb and clumsy.

“You really didn’t have to,” he replies, repeating the same words for the hundredth time that day.

“Where’s the fun in having a baby working with us if we can’t even take him out to get hammered on his twenty-first birthday?” She pinches his cheek and then she’s gone, disappearing in the mass of bodies with a whoop indicative of the number of shots she already had.

He’s there with his friends—well, when he says friends, he really means his coworkers, chatty women in their late twenties and early thirties who adopted him three years ago when he moved to New York and have been mothering him ever since, which was fine when he needed to adapt to this new life. Three years later, he wishes they would see him as an equal rather than a doll they can dress up in designer clothes and have tea parties with.

So, yes, his friends decided that they would get him drunk for his twenty-first birthday, perhaps in hopes that he would finally find a guy, and he didn’t have the heart to say no. That, and Rachel is going through a rough break-up and there’s only so much Céline Dion he can hear before he wants to stab people.

“You know, I was against the idea,” Cathy says as she leans next to him against the wall. “I told them a gay bar was a bit extreme for your first time out in the big bad world of legal alcohol consumption.” She’s the youngest after him, twenty-five years old and made entirely of legs and blonde hair. She reminds Kurt of Brittany and quickly became his favourite at the office.

“I’m just not a fan of clubs.” Kurt grits his teeth and squints when a new song begins – although it’s hard to tell them apart, it’s like one endless stream of bass and repetitive noises – and the lights begin flashing. “And it’s not like I’m going to find a boyfriend in here. You’d think some of them walked out of a Right Said Fred video.” He eyes a guy in a mesh tank top with a look of disgust and Cathy bursts out laughing.

“Well—” She stops abruptly when a guy – lean and shorter than most people around and wearing a mustard yellow button-down shirt under a grey blazer and absolutely, sinfully gorgeous – heads their way, his eyes locked on Kurt. “Oh, this is going to be interesting,” she says and Kurt elbows her, trying to keep himself from freaking out because of the way the guy is looking at him.
The guy visibly takes a deep breath and then he closes the distance between them, walking right into Kurt’s personal space and looking at him from under his eyelashes with a coy look.

“Hey,” he says, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music, but it feels like a whisper to Kurt’s hyperactive nerves. “Please, just play along. Please.”

“What—” Kurt’s words die in his throat when the guy cups his jaw and gently pulls him down into a kiss.

Kurt freezes. His arms are hanging limply by his sides, hands clenching and unclenching as the guy’s lips move over his, soft and slow like he doesn’t want to scare Kurt away – which, hello – while his free hand rests on Kurt’s shoulder, his thumb stroking up and down.

The guy pulls back and then there’s another guy next to him, looking Kurt up and down. Kurt feels naked under his gaze and he wraps his arms around his body.

“It doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you,” he says, voice low and suggestive. “He can join us if that’s your thing.” Kurt recoils, moving until he feels Cathy’s arm against his.

“Go away,” the first guy, the one who kissed him, snaps.

“You know where to find me if you change your mind.” There’s a sleazy smirk on his face as he leaves.

“I’d really rather not,” the guy says to himself. He finally seems to notice the way Kurt is looking at him with eyes the size of saucers. “Oh, hum. Thanks for not punching me. I—huh. My name’s Blaine.” He holds out his hand for Kurt to shake it. Kurt shifts his eyes from Blaine’s face to his hand, but doesn’t move. Blaine retracts his hand, his eyes leaving Kurt at once to stare at floor. “I think I should just—go.”

“Probably,” Kurt croaks out. His lips are tingling and he can’t stop looking at Blaine’s lips and he really needs to snap out of this, but then the lights shift and for a fleeting moment it casts shadows on Blaine’s face that only accentuate his features in the best way possible. Kurt’s breath catches in his throat.

“Right. Sorry about everything.”

“No, don’t go! His name’s Kurt and what he meant to say is that it’s no big deal and it’s nice meeting you,” Cathy says, pinching Kurt’s side and flashing a bright smile at Blaine.

“Cathy!” Kurt snaps, glaring at her. She raises her hands in defence and then starts backing away towards the dance floor. “No! You stay right here!”

“It’s his birthday! Have fun!” she shouts before turning around and joining their other friends, the sound of her laughter covered by the music.

Kurt turns to look at Blaine and downs his drink, wincing at the sugary orange taste of it.
“I can still go, if you want me to,” Blaine says and Kurt considers nodding along.

He should send the guy away, that creep who stole his very first kiss to drive away a sleazeball, but the memory of that kiss is still clinging to Kurt’s mind and he honestly just wants to do it again.

“You don’t have to.” Blaine’s smile is nothing short of blinding and Kurt ducks his head, bites his lip. “But my drink is empty.”

“I’ll get you another one. It’s the least I can do.”

“Okay, it was a—”

“I know what it was.” When Kurt raises his eyebrow, Blaine presses his lips together and rubs the back of his neck. “I tasted it. On your lips.” His eyes widen and even in the darkness of the club, Kurt is sure he can see his cheeks tinting pink. “I’m just gonna—go. Don’t move.”

Kurt waits for Blaine to have his back to him to press his hands against the wall in an attempt to steady himself. That last comment shot straight through him and turned his legs to jelly. And now, the sight of Blaine’s ass in those skin-tight white jeans is too much to deal with. He might be the virginest of virgins, but he’s not blind, for heaven’s sake.

Two drinks later, Kurt is dancing with Blaine, the two of them pressed together from shoulders to knees, arms loosely wrapped around each other, Blaine’s thigh wedged between Kurt’s and rubbing up against his crotch every time Kurt shifts his hips just right.

It’s all because of Blaine’s lips. Kurt couldn’t stop staring at them as they attempted to do small talk over the music, couldn’t stop letting out small gasps every time Blaine licked them after every sip, and when he came back with a second drink for Kurt and sucked the cherry from his own drink clean, Kurt pulled him into a kiss. This is how they found themselves kissing and drinking until Kurt’s head was spinning and his vision blurred.

And now Blaine’s lips are on his neck, sucking kisses and licking and tasting and biting, and Kurt is pretty sure the only thing holding him up are Blaine’s hands gripping his hips tight, his fingertips brushing over the swell of his ass.

Kurt barely feels it when Cathy slips a twenty in the back pocket of his jeans, whispering “the girls and I are leaving, call me when you get home, whenever that is. And be safe, honey.”

He wants to tell her there’s no need for the warning, but Blaine is still grinding against him and he’s not sure he remembers why it would be such a bad idea to give his virginity to a guy he met in a club.

Instead of replying, he lets Blaine pull him into another kiss, his hips stuttering forward. The friction caused by Blaine’s thigh makes him groan and Blaine swallows the sound, his hands slipping down to squeeze Kurt’s ass.

“We should—” Blaine leans up to whisper in Kurt’s ear. “Do you want to take this somewhere else?”

Thoughts of ‘you matter’ and decisions taken years ago to wait for the right guy flash through Kurt’s mind and he pushes them away, instead grabbing Blaine’s face to kiss him once before nodding, his racing pulse buzzing in his ears.

They make it outside and into a cab, Blaine pulling Kurt into a kiss as soon as his address is given to the driver. Kurt smiles and lets Blaine kiss him, his mind blissfully lethargic because of the alcohol. Blaine seems happy to be doing all the work, his lips nipping and sucking at Kurt’s and then down the sharp line of his jaw towards his neck, trekking back up and pressing warm and wet and perfect against Kurt’s again.

The staircase of Blaine’s building is dark and full of shadowed corners into which they push each other to kiss and touch as they slowly climb up to the fifth floor, but finally the door to his apartment is shut and Blaine is pinned against it with Kurt’s lips on his neck, the hint of stubble making them tingle in an intoxicating way.

“I could kiss you all night,” Blaine murmurs against Kurt’s lips after pulling him down on top of him on the couch. “You’re so gorgeous. I can’t believe how gorgeous you are. Let me—I want to see you.” His words are thick with inebriation, but his eyes are steady and focused on Kurt’s.

A light is flicked on, Blaine’s muscles shifting under Kurt’s hands when he reaches above is head to pull on the short string of the lamp by the arm of the couch, and then Kurt really sees Blaine for the first time. He looks as stricken as Kurt feels as he takes in the rich golden hue of Blaine’s skin, enhanced by the yellow glow the lamp casts on the room. His eyes are dark, but with a promising tint to them that Kurt is sure must look stunning in the sun, the pupils dilated and intent on Kurt’s face. His eyelashes are ridiculously long, fanning against his cheek every time he blinks.

When his eyes fall on Blaine’s lips, kissed red and plump, shining and slightly parted, he dips down and kisses them, drawing a groan from Blaine’s throat. Kurt is getting more confident with this whole kissing thing, the anxiety he felt every time Blaine’s lips met his own earlier in the evening now gone and replaced with hot, burning want in the pit of his stomach.

Blaine’s leg hooks over Kurt’s calf, bringing him down and closer. His hands are roaming over Kurt’s back and sides, feeling broad and scorching even through his layers of clothes. They slip down and grab his ass, squeezing before pushing down.

Kurt’s entire body tenses when he feels Blaine’s erection against his own, Blaine rocking his hips up while he holds Kurt’s down. It’s simultaneously the best and most terrifying feeling Kurt has ever felt, and if he was able to pretend this entire thing with Blaine wasn’t a big deal before, now he can’t ignore the fact that he’s a blushing virgin who apparently thinks it’d be a good idea to waste his first time on a one night stand. It’s a really unfortunate realization to have when the tongue of a dizzyingly handsome guy is down his throat.

“Blaine,” he pants, pulling out of the kiss with a loud, wet, embarrassing noise. “We—I can’t do this. I can’t.”

In a flash, Blaine’s hands are gone from him. Kurt sits back on his heels, hyperaware of Blaine’s legs on either side of him, his eyes involuntarily drawn to the bulge in his jeans. Blaine pushes himself up on his elbows and he looks sinful, sprawled on the couch with mussed hair and shiny lips, but Kurt forces himself to look at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he continues, pressing his lips together. “I just—” And then he can’t hold Blaine’s eyes, instead looking at the bookshelves to their right.

“What is it?” Blaine sits up, at last, which puts a foot of space between them. Already, Kurt is breathing better.

Kurt risks a glance at him, only to find Blaine’s eyes trained on him. He looks away again. “I’ve just—never—”

“Neither have I, if it makes you feel better.”

Kurt lets out a shaky breath. “It does, actually. I’m glad to know I’m not the only virgin in all of New York.”

Oh,” Blaine breathes out. “You meant never as in—never.”

“You didn’t?” Kurt curses his voice for going high on the last syllable.

“I was talking about—you know. Sleeping with a stranger. Not—sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I led you on. I should—I’ll just go.”

“No!” Kurt jumps when Blaine grips his wrist. “You don’t have to. We don’t have to—do you want something to drink? I—huh. I have tea?”

Kurt stares at Blaine, searching his face for any sign of double-entendre or innuendo or ‘I’m just trying to mellow you down so I can get into your pants’, but all he sees is earnestness. “Tea?”

“Or coffee, if that’s more your thing. It’s a bit late – early? – for coffee, but I don’t know, we could—” Blaine breathes out sharply. “What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to leave. We don’t have to have sex. I just—yeah. This is what I’m trying to say.” Blaine grows redder with every word he speaks.

“Okay. Only a splash of milk in mine.” Kurt speaks calmly despite the panic building inside of him when he stops to think about how he’s in a stranger’s apartment with no idea where in the city he is. No one knows he’s here. “Have you seen American Psycho?”

“I’ve read it,” Blaine says. He gets up and staggers, holding out his hands for balance. “Wow, I’m still drunker than I thought.” He pauses, giving Kurt a confused frown. “Why? I’m not a psychopath. I don’t have mace or—or nail guns just lying around.”

“Maybe I wasn’t talking about you.” Kurt is surprised by how coy that sounded. He didn’t mean to flirt, although that’s not really flirting, is it? Or maybe it was.

He needs a break. “Bathroom?”

“Second door down the hall.”

Kurt gets up unsteadily, the room spinning every time he moves his head. He feels Blaine’s eyes on him until he steps into the room and shuts the door. He leans against it and takes a deep breath. He can do this. He’s Kurt Hummel, for Christ’s sake, and Kurt Hummel doesn’t run away from anything. Kurt Hummel faces the things that scare him.

He looks up at the mirror. His hair is a mess, mussed and sticking out in every direction, like he had—like—okay, moving on. His eyes are heavy-lidded and unfocused, and as they trail down his face, passed his flushed cheeks, and stop on his neck, he sees the angry red marks Blaine left. They’re probably going to turn into bruises and, of course, turtleneck season is over. He’s going to have to wear a lot of scarves, and his friends will never let him live this down, and he will have to live with the shame of the poor decisions he made half an hour ago for the rest of his life.

No. He will step out of the bathroom and face Blaine, and he’ll be an adult about this because that’s what he is and there’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just a guy. Just a guy he met at a bar and made out with and with whom he was willing to lose his virginity just a few minutes ago, and who’s now making coffee like this situation is completely normal.

Kurt splashes water on his face and rubs his eyes a few times before taking out his phone to quickly text Rachel where he is. He’ll have things to explain when he comes home in the middle of the night, but it won’t be as bad as if he didn’t warn her he would be late.

Blaine is waiting on the doorstep when he opens the door, eyes wide as he holds up a steaming cup. “Huh. Coffee’s ready,” he says, a small smile flickering on his face.

Kurt returns it, taking the cup and following Blaine in the living room. He turned on a few more lights, until the room was cozy and inviting. It’s nowhere near the worrying darkness filled with things too heavy for Kurt to deal with when his mind is still threading through an alcohol-induced haziness. The couch, which was terrifying for Kurt just a moment ago, now looks perfect for curling up and he does just that, leaning against the back and cradling his cup to his chest. Blaine sits in an armchair, putting the coffee table between them, and Kurt gives him a smile that he hopes communicates how grateful he is.

*

Kurt wakes up and immediately regrets doing so. Not only does he have the worst headache he’s ever had, but, for a solid minute, he has no idea where he is and the surge of panic rising in him does not mix well with his queasy stomach. Slowly, as he looks around the room, he recognizes the place. This is Blaine’s apartment.

Oh, no. What did they do?

He remembers stopping them when it became too heated for him, although he’s confused as to how they ended up on his couch in the first place. He remembers the club and the dancing, and maybe a cab ride? It’s a logical conclusion more than it is a memory and he groans, burying his face in the plush cushion he slept on.

“Oh, you’re awake?” he hears coming from another room. When Kurt braces himself to look up and face the sunlight once again, Blaine is sitting in the armchair by Kurt’s head, clutching a steaming cup. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” His mouth feels pasty and he winces. “I’m not sure I remember lying down to sleep.”

Blaine chuckles and smiles around his cup. “We were talking about high school and, huh, bullying and things like that, and then you shifted to lie down and like, five minutes later you were gone. I put a blanket on you so you wouldn’t get cold.”

Now that Blaine mentions it, Kurt faintly remembers a kiss to his temple and a whispered ‘goodnight.’ It’s frustrating, he can’t tell if those are real memories or images he dreamed up, everything is blurry and looks unreal when he looks back at the previous night.

“How are you not dying? I feel like I’m dead,” he croaks, rubbing his eye. Even that hurts.

“I had a lot less than you. You drank what, six cocktails? All that sugar was sure to mess you up.”

“You can say it, you know. I’m a lightweight.”

“No, you’re n—” Kurt lifts his head to glare at him. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“I would whack you with this cushion if moving didn’t hurt so much. This isn’t fair.”

“I brought you a glass of water, it should help. Don’t drink too fast or you’ll throw up and my brother will kill me.”

“Your brother?” Kurt asks, pushing himself up with a pained whine and reaching for the glass with one hand while the other tries to do some damage control on his hair. There better not be another person in this apartment.

Blaine shrugs, waiting for Kurt to lean against the back of the couch and take his first, tiny sip of water before he continues. “This is his apartment. He’s in LA most of the time, but he lets me stay here as long as I pay for my food.”

“What does he do in LA?”

“He’s an actor.”

“Anything I might have seen?” Talking hurts less than Kurt expected and it distracts him from his slow agony.

“Right now he mostly does commercials, so unless you’re into that kind of thing, I doubt it.”

Kurt chuckles despite the throbbing in his skull. “It’s funny that you say that, but I was obsessed with a guy in a commercial when I was in high school. I had the jingle as my ringtone.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s not any of my brother’s. His jingles are stupid.”

Kurt thinks he detects a hint of jealousy in Blaine’s tone, but he’s not going to point it out. “It’s nice of him to let you stay here,” he says instead.

Blaine shrugs again and then gets up. “What you need, right now, is bacon.”

“Bacon?”

“Salt and fat. I don’t know, that’s my brother’s cure for hangovers and it works? You’re not vegetarian, I hope?”

“To my roommate’s dismay, no, I’m not.”

“Great! Take your time, you can stay here if you want, I’ll bring you a plate when it’s ready.”

“You really don’t have to do this for me, you know. I can leave.”

He huffs. “I’m not doing it for you, I want bacon and it’ll go to waste if I don’t share.”

Kurt watches him as he leaves the room, his oversized sweater and flannel pants erasing all the curves and lines that drew him to Blaine the night before. It’s hard to reconcile the two as the same person. This guy and the one he kissed are—oh no. They kissed.

They kissed a lot. Kurt ruined his first kiss and his first heavy make-out session – that’s a milestone, right? – with a guy he barely knows. Kurt is sure somewhere in Ohio, his father woke up crying and he doesn’t know why.

After finishing his water, Kurt joins Blaine in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge and resting his head against the cold metal. “Do you have something for headaches?”

“You have to eat something, first. The bacon is almost ready and I’m making eggs, too. Try eating a slice of bread.”

“For my headache?”

“No, just to see if you can keep food down.”

Kurt grabs a slice from the bag sitting on the counter and tries a small bite. “How do you know all these tricks?”

“I’m in college. I had to learn,” he answers, smirking at Kurt over his shoulder. His stomach flops when he does it and Kurt shifts closer to the sink, just in case.

“What year are you in?” Kurt takes a bigger bite once he’s sure he can keep it down.

“Sophomore.”

“Exactly how old are you?” Kurt squints, trying to do the math and failing miserably.

“Twenty-one,” Blaine answers smoothly. “I told you last night, I was held back a year.”

Kurt has no memory of ever hearing this. “Yes, of course, I remember. And what are you studying?”

“Music theatre. At NYU. I told you that, too.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, flushing as Blaine laughs. “My roommate is at NYADA.” He can almost talk about NYADA without any trace of bitterness, now. It took a lot of work.

“I applied there. Didn’t get in,” Blaine says curtly, turning the stove top off with more force than entirely necessary.

“Me neither.”
“It sucks.”

“Yeah.”

A pregnant silence settles over the kitchen as Blaine fills their plate. Kurt shifts uncomfortably and digs his hands in the pocket of his jeans, feeling more and more like running away the longer they stay silent.

They only break the silence to exchange pleasantries, Kurt complimenting Blaine on his cooking and thanking him, all of which Blaine shrugs off with a smile. It feels like they’re stuck between two levels of acquaintance; they ran out of basic questions to ask and what comes next is more personal. It requires more commitment and involvement, and neither of them is ready to take that step forward. Kurt has to remind himself that this is just the very uncomfortable ending to a terrible almost-one night stand, not anything more. He’s not making a friend. He’s just bidding his time before he can leave.

“I should probably go. My roommate will set the entire NYPD after me pretty soon.”

Blaine walks him to the door and stops him with a hand on his arm. “Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in. Let me know when you get home.” He seems to realize what he’s asking for before he flushes. “If that’s okay with you? I just want to make sure you’re okay, it’s kind of my fault you’re so messed up this morning.” Kurt nods and smiles, turning his phone on and handing it to Blaine. “You have eight new messages and five missed calls. From a Rachel?”

Kurt groans, rubbing his brow. “My roommate.”

“Oh, well, good luck with that,” he says, typing quickly and then giving the phone back. “This is goodbye, I guess?” Blaine shifts his weight from foot to foot and avoids Kurt’s eyes.

“Bye, Blaine.” Kurt lingers in the doorway, feeling like there’s still something that needs to be said.

“So, huh, bye,” he says quickly before shutting the door.

After a whole minute of just standing there with the nagging feeling that Blaine is waiting on the other side of the door to hear him walk away, Kurt heads for the stairs, a hollow feeling in his stomach that he knows has nothing to do with his hangover.

Rachel’s reaction when he comes home distracts him from further thinking about Blaine. It starts with reproaches he knows he deserves, he should have called or let her know he was going to sleep over at Blaine’s, and yes, he has no idea who that guy really is and that was really not intelligent to trust him so blindly, but when she begins acting like the victim in all this, bringing up her recent break-up, Kurt walks out on her and locks himself in his room.

He quickly texts Blaine that he’s home before taking off his clothes – and god, he came back home wearing the same clothes than the day before, this totally counts as a walk of shame, no? – and going back to sleep in hopes it’ll rid him of his headache.

Hours later, he wakes up with two new messages from Blaine. The first tells him that Blaine is glad he got home safely while the second makes his heart skip a beat. Blaine is offering him to go and get coffee together one day. Without taking time to think about it, Kurt replies that he’d love to, and within minutes he has plans to meet Blaine a few days from now.

It’s a date. It’s totally a date. The hottest guy Kurt has ever met has asked him out on a date and this is the best day of Kurt’s life, he could dance and cry because things like that do not happen to him. It seems he was wrong when he told Cathy he would never find a boyfriend at a dance club.

*

It’s not a date. It is so not a date that it makes his relationship with Rachel look like they’re married. Blaine is funny and charming and, as he predicted, gorgeous in the sunlight, but he keeps his distance. He doesn’t show any sign that he wants anything more than the budding friendship that is growing between them, and Kurt has absolutely no idea how to stir them into dating territory.

The second time they get coffee together is the same.

The third, too, although that time, Blaine hugs him as they say goodbye. Kurt counts that as a step forward.

Kurt only brings up how they met on their sixth time together, almost a month and a half after the night of his birthday. Between the text messages and emails exchanged, they’re now officially friends, probably heading down the best friends road, and it’s so much what Kurt needs at the moment, but not what he wants that it’s making him feel sick.

He should be happy with what he has. His friendship with Blaine is quickly turning into the best thing in his life, he knows he should enjoy it, but there’s always this nagging voice at the back of his head demanding more. More of what, he’s not sure; more closeness, maybe, but for all he knows it could be lust pleading him to just grab Blaine and kiss him at once.

Blaine shrugs it off with a smile, saying how he’s glad they didn’t do anything because it would have made things complicated and probably stopped them from becoming friends. Kurt smiles, too, replies that it’s exactly what he was thinking, and he ignores the way his stomach feels like it dropped out of his body.

Coffee non-dates become a part of his routine Kurt wonders how he ever lived without as the months pass. There are also bi-monthly movie nights at Blaine’s apartment, thematic movie nights, and more lunches and dinners than Kurt can count. It feels like Blaine has always been a part of his life except for one small detail: he has never met Rachel.

It’s not that Kurt doesn’t want them to meet—well, actually, yes, it’s exactly that. He doesn’t want Blaine to meet Rachel because she will scare him away with her questions. Or she might flirt with him, which is much, much worse. And if they meet, it’s two parts of Kurt’s life that need to fit together and he’s not sure they will.

He’s mulling over this when he joins Blaine at their usual table in the coffee shop halfway between his campus and Kurt’s office. It’s undeniable that the more he postpones introducing them to each other, the more suspicious it is. They might start thinking he’s ashamed of them, and yeah, maybe at times they can both be quite embarrassing to be around with the potential to be worse together, but it’s not enough to justify the reluctance he’s shown at the idea of a potential meeting.

“Hey,” he says absentmindedly, still debating whether he should invite Blaine over for dinner with Rachel that night. It was her offer and he still hasn’t found an excuse to get out of it, so it might be a sign that he should do it.

“Hey!” Blaine sounds breathless and happier than usual, which makes Kurt frown.

“Why are you so chipper? You need to calm down, you look like a woodland animal from a Disney movie when you get excited. I can almost hear the whimsical music in the background.”

“I don’t,” he replies. He takes a sip of coffee, the smile slowly returning to his face. “Guess what happened to me this morning?”

“I don’t know, you put on your shoes the right way on your first try?”

Blaine’s smile falters for a second. “No, no, better. I was asked out on a date! Well, it’s not really a date, we’re just going together to see a movie for one of my courses, but oh my god, Kurt, can you believe it?”

Kurt hums, shrugging. Why is he there? He wants to run away and crawl in his bed, wants to sleep until he forgets what Blaine looks like, until everyone he knows is dead and gone and he can live his life without a heart because it just ran out the door and he could throw up if he didn’t feel so numb all over.

“That’s great,” he manages to let out. He even forces a smile.

“I know!” Blaine drawls the last syllable, leaning back in his chair. “Can you help me pick out my clothes? I want to look my best, you never know what might happen!”

Breathe. Smile. Pretend everything is fine and life didn’t just kick you in the face. “Of course. That’s what fashionable friends are for, after all. I’ll drop by when I leave work.”

Blaine gives him a bright smile that doesn’t fade until they part with Kurt’s renewed promise that he’ll help Blaine later and Kurt’s heart gone, hiding somewhere in Nevada.

Rachel finds him with his head in his arms, his laptop opened on a blog entry he just can’t find it in himself to finish. There are papers scattered everywhere, the remnants of his previous surge of energy-cum-attempt to keep busy while Blaine is on a date with another guy. It lasted about an hour before he descended into complete lethargy. He’s five minutes away from turning on Adele.

“Oh my god, Kurt, are you okay? Did someone die?”

Kurt looks up at Rachel, who’s standing in the doorway with a crease of worry on her forehead. She tentatively walks into the room, putting her hand on Kurt’s back.

“No one died. I just—remember Blaine?”

“The really hot guy you hang out with but refuse to introduce to me? Is he coming over for dinner? Oh, no, he declined your offer, is that it? And now you’re convinced he hates you. It’s okay, I’ve been there. Just because he—”

“Are you going to let me talk?” Kurt snaps, sitting up straight as Rachel settles at the foot of his bed. She nods. “He’s on a date with another guy.”

Oh. Did you tell him it upsets you?”

“No, it would only upset him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You don’t know him.”

“But I know you, Kurt Hummel. Have you ever made it obvious you want him to date you?”

“Of course I have. We made out for, like, hours the first time we met.” He flushes at the words and Rachel giggles.

“Yes, fine. But after that?” When Kurt doesn’t say anything, she continues. “You can be kind of prickly, Kurt. Are you sure you let him know you were interested? You know, maybe flirted a little or touched his hand when you talk, or look into his eyes, or anything, really. We watched the same movies, you know what I mean!”

Oh. “I think so?”

Rachel hums knowingly. “It’s not too late, you know.” Her eyes widen and she puts her hand in front of her mouth as she gasps. “It could be so romantic! You, the beautiful ingénue meeting him, the gorgeous, but oblivious man, at the end of his date and running into his arms, telling him that you’ve always loved him and that the other guy will never be as good as you! And then you would kiss under a streetlamp and declare your undying love for each other! You have to do it!”

“I can’t do that! And I’m not an ingénue.”

“Well, then,” she says primly, getting up and heading out of the room. “If you don’t want my help, I’ll leave you to your misery. I hope you enjoy your lifetime of being the third wheel to Blaine’s perfect relationship with someone else.”

*

Kurt is an idiot. He shouldn’t be there. When Blaine comes back from his date and finds him sitting outside of his apartment block, he’s going to call the cops on Kurt and he will get a restraining order, and it will all have been for nothing. This is the worst decision of his life. It’s even worse than wearing a corset to school on a day he had gym class or, you know, wearing a corset to school at all.

His ass is turning numb from sitting on a cold bench for a half hour, and he still has no idea what he’ll do when Blaine comes home. He didn’t plan that far ahead when he decided to make a fool of himself by waiting outside Blaine’s apartment. Maybe he should have, especially if Blaine comes home with the guy. That could be awkward.

Kurt always feels like he stepped into another dimension when he’s with Blaine. They casually talk even though he knows how he kisses, how his body feels when it’s shifting underneath Kurt’s, when he can still remember the feeling of Blaine’s cock against his hip, when he’s heard the noises he makes when someone sucks on the base of his jaw. By the time they part, he has a headache and wants to run back in and try to fix things, even though he doesn’t know what needs to be fixed.

He’s beyond wanting to fix it, now. He wants Blaine, all of him, he’s done waiting. He waited twenty-one years to find the perfect guy, but instead of the fictional person he dreamed up, Blaine waltzed into his life, stealing his first kiss and being so luminous he showed Kurt he’d been living in the dark all those years.

Kurt tightens his coat around him and shifts on the bench, huffing with impatience, his breath misting the air. He’s starting to doubt his plan. It’s kind of creepy, really, and Blaine will be upset to see him there. It’s not like Blaine belongs to him. He had his chance and he blew it, he should deal with the consequences and go home.

He should, he should, he should, but he won’t. He straightens his back and pushes up his chin. He’ll stay there for as long as he needs to and he’ll tell Blaine everything he should have told him weeks ago. And then, if everything goes according to plan, he’ll get reacquainted with his couch. And if it feels right, he’ll get to know his bed, too. The thought alone makes Kurt flush.

Footsteps in the distance make him stand up. He can hear laughter, too, and the muffled sound of conversation. Blaine is not alone. Kurt sees their shadows, first, stretched out silhouettes getting smaller as they near him. Kurt takes a tentative step forward, standing beneath the streetlamp. He’s aware that the orange light it produces is not advantageous to his complexion or the colour palette he picked that day, but there’s no way he’s risking Blaine missing him and kissing that guy.

Blaine glances at him before turning to his date. A second passes and then he’s looking at Kurt again, his frown visible in the distance. “Kurt?” he calls.

Kurt waves shyly and makes his way towards them. “Hey.”

“What—what are you doing here?” Blaine asks, glancing at his date. His smile looks forced.

I’m here because I think I’m in love with you is not exactly something he’s mentally and emotionally ready to say, so instead he just shrugs. “I need to talk to you.”

“Couldn’t it wait?” He nods towards the guy and Kurt finally looks at him.

The guy is ordinary. If Kurt had to pick a colour to describe him, he’d say beige. He’s dressed like he’s sponsored by American Apparel and wears glasses that probably belonged to his father in the eighties. Kurt doubts they’re prescription. He’s exactly what Kurt imagined Blaine would go on a date with and it makes his blood turn cold. Kurt is not Blaine’s type, why did he, for even a second, think he was?

“No,” he breathes out, tearing his eyes away from the guy to look at Blaine. “It can’t wait.”

Blaine frowns and turns to his date. “I’m really sorry. Do you mind?”

The guy shrugs, his eyes dancing from Kurt to Blaine. “It’s fine. I’ll see you in class?”

Blaine thanks him and watches him go, only paying attention to Kurt when he disappears around a corner. “Are you okay? Did something bad happen?”

“How was the date?”

Blaine’s frown deepens. “It was okay.”

“I didn’t expect him to look like that.”

“What’s wrong with the way he looks?”

“He looks homeless.”

“Why do you care? We’re not dating, you know. You always made it very clear that we were strictly friends, although I’m not sure we’re even that, so you have no right to try and wreck this.”

The tone of Blaine’s voice sends chills down Kurt’s spine. He has never heard him sound so—not angry, a person like Blaine probably gets angry twice in their lifetime, but irritated. Kurt huffs and straightens his back, unwillingly switching from a defensive attitude to an offensive one.

“What?!”

“Let’s just say that, on good days, I feel like I’m bothering you. I won’t even start on the bad ones, they happen too often to count.”

“You’re not—you don’t bother me, oh my god. What makes you think that?” No, no, no, everything is wrong, this isn’t what’s supposed to happen, Blaine isn’t supposed to think Kurt hates him, oh my god he’s done everything wrong and he’s going to lose Blaine.

“Don’t tell me you’re not aware that you spend half of your time making fun of me. Do you not remember what you told me earlier today? I think you managed to insult me twice in a minute. That’s got to be a record.”

“But that’s how I am with everyone! You can’t take it personally.”

“Yeah, see, I would know that if you weren’t so ashamed to introduce me to your other friends. I haven’t even met your roommate, yet, Kurt. What am I supposed to think?”

“That she’s crazy and I don’t want you to have to suffer through her overprotective questions. That’s all. I’m not ashamed of you, why would I be ashamed of you?”

“I don’t know! Because I’m a guy you met in a bar and nearly slept with, and that embarrasses you?”

Kurt crosses his arms over his chest and looks away from Blaine, focusing his gaze on the bench he was sitting on earlier.

“Honestly, I’m the one who should be embarrassed,” Kurt says in a low voice.

“I told you it was fine that we didn’t sleep together.”

“But you wanted to.”

“Of course I did! Have you seen you?” Blaine snaps, and Kurt isn’t sure if it’s a compliment. If it is, it’s the roughest compliment he’s ever received. Nevertheless, he feels himself flushing. “Is that all you think of me? I’m the guy you nearly lost your virginity to?”

Kurt is losing his footing in this conversation, he’s panicking and he doesn’t know what to say because he feels like he’s on the verge of losing Blaine for good. He can’t let that happen, all he wanted was to have a small jealous fit and then make out, not have their entire relationship questioned. He should have stayed quiet and waited, why does he always have to face things upfront and cause more trouble? Why the hell did he listen to Rachel Berry?

“Well, you did steal my first kiss,” Kurt mutters, defeated. He doesn’t know what else to say. He really just wants to go home, now.

“I—what?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. I should—” He’s tired, so tired, and he doesn’t want to have this conversation anymore. He’s ruining everything.

“What did you just say?”

“I said you were my first kiss!” Kurt shouts, his voice echoing on the surrounding buildings. A dog barks in the distance and it’s the only sound breaking the silence between them for a moment so long Kurt wants to run away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Blaine’s voice is softer, now, and he’s taking a tentative step forward.

“It’s not exactly something I’m proud of. It doesn’t matter, Blaine. I hoped that something would result from it, but I was wrong.”

Blaine closes the distance between them, crashing their lips together. He cups the back of Kurt’s neck to bring him closer, his kisses harder and fiercer than anything they’ve ever shared. Kurt kisses back once before pushing Blaine away, his eyes wide and his breath coming out ragged.

“What was that?” he shrieks, taking a step back when Blaine takes one forward. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done months ago?” His confidence seems to dissipate with his anger and he’s shrinking in on himself.

“Why didn’t you do it?” He’s not that aloof, is he? There is no way he looked completely uninterested in Blaine all that time. It can’t be. Rachel cannot be right.

“Again, have you seen you? You’re way out of my league, Kurt.” Blaine really does look smaller, then. Maybe it’s the way he slumped his shoulders or the sudden vulnerability in his voice, but Kurt feels like he towers over him despite the scant inches he has on Blaine.

“I—” Kurt opens and shuts his mouth a few times, no sounds leaving it. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you, yeah.”

It’s Kurt who pulls Blaine into a kiss, this time, gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise and whimpering against his lips when he feels Blaine’s hands on his waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” Kurt says against Blaine’s lips. “I thought you didn’t like me, or that I’d ruined my chances, and then you went out with another guy and I couldn’t stand it, Blaine, I—”

“Shut up and kiss me,” he mutters in reply, clutching at Kurt’s coat and pulling him closer.

Kurt loses himself in the feeling of Blaine’s lips against his, relishing every little sound that leaves his lips whenever Kurt sucks at them or licks into his mouth. He shivers, unsure whether it’s from the chillness of the night or because of the feeling of having Blaine so close to him, but Blaine notices and pulls away.

“We should—” he pants, looking flustered and unfocused. “We should get inside. If you want to. We don’t have to—”

“Okay,” is all Kurt replies and then Blaine is rushing towards his building, Kurt on his heels.

It’s a repeat of that night months ago, except they head straight to Blaine’s bed after kissing their way upstairs. Kurt pins Blaine to the mattress, shedding his coat and shoes quickly before diving in for a kiss. From that point on, everything goes too fast, and before long they’re exchanging sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and grinding their hips together.

“Kurt slow down,” Blaine chokes out, stilling Kurt’s hips with his hands. “We don’t have to.”

“What if I want it?” Kurt asks, smiling when the movement of his lips against Blaine’s neck makes him shiver.

Blaine rolls them over, straddling Kurt’s thighs and holding him down with his hands on his chest. “Your first time has to mean something. You can’t just waste it.”

“With you, it would mean something. I’ve thought about it. I want you, Blaine.” Kurt strokes up and down Blaine’s arm, smiling. “I know you don’t believe me when I say that I really like you, but it’s true.”

“You like me?” Blaine asks coyly, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk. When Kurt rolls his eyes, Blaine’s smirk spreads into a grin. “Okay. You stop me whenever it becomes too much.”

Kurt inhales sharply and nods, his eyes widening when Blaine goes for the button of his jeans. He watches Blaine’s face as he pulls Kurt’s pants down, marvelling at the look of reverence he finds there. It feels completely new to have someone really see him, and Kurt doesn’t quite know what to do.

Blaine palms him through his briefs, slowly and tentatively at first, but then faster when Kurt pushes back against his hand. It’s a brand new feeling to have someone else’s hand on him and Kurt closes his eyes, humming under his breath when Blaine cups his balls a few times before hooking his fingers in the elastic of his briefs.

And then his cock springs free of his underwear to rest on his stomach and he flushes under Blaine’s gaze. He expected to feel self-conscious or embarrassed, but it’s the complete opposite. He feels empowered and even more turned on than a few minutes before, which he didn’t think was possible.

“Okay?” Blaine asks as he inches his hand forward, stopping just before he wraps it around Kurt.

Kurt nods frantically and then gasps when Blaine’s warm hand touches him. He pushes his hips up almost instantly, a short breath stuttering out of his lungs when Blaine begins stroking up and down. His eyes are glued to Kurt’s cock, his lips slightly parted, and all Kurt wants is to pull him closer and kiss him breathless.

“I want to kiss you,” he says in between two shuddering breaths. “Come here.”

Blaine crawls up the bed and kisses Kurt, his hand still working on him, and Kurt finds it hard to focus and kiss back. He fists his hands in Blaine’s shirt and shuts down his mind, letting his overwhelmed senses take over as his entire world is filled with Blaine.

“I don’t—your turn,” Kurt pants after a while, breaking the kiss and tugging on Blaine’s shirt until he takes it off. Kurt gets rid of his own and then shrugs off his pants completely while Blaine does the same.

And then they’re naked together, and it hits Kurt that he’s naked with another man for the first time in his life. He forces a deep breath inside his lungs before looking over at Blaine, finding his eyes on him.

“You’re—wow,” Blaine murmurs. He reaches forward to lightly trail his fingers down Kurt’s chest, brushing over his nipple and drawing a surprised gasp out of Kurt. “Look at you. Can you lie down?”

“Can I?” Kurt asks, smirking until Blaine gives his cock one rough stroke, too dry and too tight, but perfect nonetheless, and Kurt’s eyes roll back in his head, he’s so close already.

“Okay, okay,” he breathes out, flopping on his back and crossing his hands over his stomach. He bites his lip and waits, looking at Blaine.

He’s all deep lines and taunt muscles under skin that still glows golden from the memory of summer, a dark trail of hair leading from his navel to just the slightest hint of fat that Kurt wants to touch and press his face into. Kurt swallows when he looks at Blaine’s cock, hard and flushed dark red and already leaking. He licks his lips and lets out a soft moan, pulling him forward until they’re kissing again, Blaine shifting to lie on top of Kurt and he’s going to come so fast it’ll be embarrassing.

“Is this okay?” Blaine asks softly, pecking Kurt’s nose before rubbing his own against it. Kurt nods frantically, lifting his head to capture Blaine’s lips with his own. Blaine laughs and pulls back. “I’ll make it so good for you, Kurt.”

He strokes Kurt’s hair as he begins grinding his hips down, kissing down Kurt’s exposed neck when he throws his head back. Kurt sinks his teeth in his bottom lip so he doesn’t let out ridiculous noises until Blaine brushes his thumb over it, easing it away from his teeth and then kissing it lightly, smiling.

“It’s okay. I want to hear you. And you’re allowed to touch me, you know,” he breathes against Kurt’s lips and his voice is rough and lower than Kurt has ever heard it. It shoots through him like lightning.

Kurt begins by trailing his hands down Blaine’s sides, smiling at the goose bumps it raises on his overheated skin. He moves them across the small of Blaine’s back, pressing into the dimples he finds there before dragging his fingers across his ass, gripping it and pulling Blaine down while he lifts his lips, the increased friction making them both moan out loud.

Kurt’s body is tensed, arching off the bed and clinging to Blaine while he feverishly kisses every inch of Blaine’s skin he can reach. Blaine snakes a hand between their bodies and strokes Kurt’s cock quickly, twisting his wrist and rubbing his thumb over the head, doing everything he can to make Kurt come as quickly as he can. Kurt is panting and keeping his eyes tightly shut, and when his orgasm finally hits him he presses his teeth into Blaine’s collarbone, choking on moans and groans as he comes all over Blaine’s hand.

Kurt is still shaking from his orgasm when he pushes Blaine on his back and wraps his hand around Blaine’s cock, jerking him off before he realizes what he’s doing and freaks out, bringing him to the edge while he presses kisses into his belly. He stops when it throws off the rhythm of his hand and instead rests his cheek against it so he can watch his hand work Blaine to orgasm.

Blaine cries out when he comes and Kurt is distracted from watching by Blaine’s toes adorably curling into the sheets. He can feel his muscles contracting under his cheek and his cock twitches painfully as he watch the white streaks of Blaine’s come covering his fingers, his lips slightly parted, convinced that this is the single most erotic moment of his entire life. Blaine lets out a shaky chuckle and hums happily, fingers scrabbling at Kurt’s shoulder until he moves to lie next to him, biting back a smile.

“So?” Blaine asks, rolling on his side to look at Kurt.

“I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“You’re not.” Blaine presses a kiss to Kurt’s shoulder. “How was it?”

Kurt rolls on his side, too, and shrugs a shoulder as he tangles their legs together. He traces the red marks his teeth left on Blaine’s skin with his index finger, whispering an apology when Blaine winces. “I’m not sure. I think we’ll have to have another go, just so I can make a good evaluation.”

Blaine’s eyes crinkle as he grins, fingers trailing feather-light up and down Kurt’s arm. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For trusting me to do this.”

Kurt shrugs again, smiling softly and cupping Blaine’s face. “I like you,” he says in a breath and then pecks Blaine’s lips. “Try not to forget it in the future.”

“I won’t.” Blaine kisses him back for a second before pulling away and frowning. “I like you, too. I realized I didn’t tell you and I don’t want you to think it’s not recip—”

Kurt shuts him up with a kiss, humming when Blaine wraps his arms around him. They fall asleep that way, holding the other tight and sharing the same air. In the morning they’ll need to have a serious conversation about where they stand, and what this all meant, but for the moment Kurt is just happy to hold the boy he loves close and let his mind be flooded with the world of possibilities awaiting them.

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