(no subject)

[fleurdeliseebckp]

part three.

Kurt wakes up to the smell of toasted bread and coffee, which quickly reminds him of where he is, dissipating the confusing he awoke to. He can hear the sound of utensils hitting the porcelain plates and he nuzzles his pillow with a sleepy smile, pulling the heavy covers further up his body.

For the first time in over a year, he doesn’t have to be out of bed at a specific time and he fully intends to enjoy this new freedom by staying under his covers until the time has two digits, at least.

Kurt doesn’t go back to sleep but he doesn’t mind, the sounds of Carole and Finn getting ready for their day of work making him feel warm and safe. There’s something inherently comforting in domesticity and routines; the world might be tearing itself apart, Kurt might be an orphan running away from a strict religious school with a clandestine male lover but he knows that downstairs, Finn is eating his usual two eggs-with-three-toasts and drinking a large glass of orange juice as he always has, every morning, no matter what. Carole is reading the newspaper while sipping on a cup of coffee – milk, no sugar – and eating a bowl of oatmeal. She’ll comment on noteworthy news and Finn will hum and nod even though he’s not listening: he’s only waiting to get the sports section.

The Hudsons’ routine existed before they met Kurt and Burt and remained the same after the two Hummels came and went in their lives. Regularity in a world of uncertainty is what Kurt clings to. The sun will rise and set, the seasons will come and go, and no one and nothing will make Finn Hudson eat something else than two-eggs-and-three-slices-toasts in the morning.

Eventually, Kurt hears the front door opening and closing before silence falls over the house. Less than a minute later, the floorboards of the hallway creak and Blaine pushes his bedroom’s door opened hesitantly.

“Good morning,” Kurt greets him from the cocoon he built with his covers, his head barely peeking out from underneath.

“Hey,” Blaine says, his smile radiant as he steps into the room and closes the door. “Can I join you? You look comfortable.”

Kurt nods and stretches, letting out a sound akin to a purr. “It’s a single bed, though.”

“So?”

Blaine walks closer to the bed and then waggles his eyebrows at Kurt until he scoots back and holds the covers up, inviting Blaine in. Blaine climbs on the bed and slips under the covers, laughing when Kurt swiftly puts them back down over the two of them and curls up into his side.

Blaine shifts to his side and wraps his arm around Kurt’s waist as he tangles their legs together. Kurt sighs happily and scoots closer, his arm mirroring Blaine’s. Their noses are pressed together and Blaine lets out a small laugh when he tries to look at Kurt and his eyes cross.

“Are you sleepy?” Blaine whispers.

“Not really.”

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m not leaving this bed before ten o’clock,” Kurt says sternly.

“But I don’t know where the food is,” Blaine replies in a whine. “And it’s only seven thirty!”

“Who said I would let you leave my bed?”

Blaine grins. “You can keep me in your bed forever, if you want to. I could be your kept boy and you could feed me grapes and wine and I’d be a happy man. I could read you novels and poetry. We’d never have to leave your room ever again.”

“People would talk,” Kurt says pensively, smiling. “‘Have you heard? Kurt Hummel is keeping a boy in his bed and all they do all day is read Shakespeare sonnets and eat fruits. Such debauchery!’”.

“If your definition of poetry is Shakespeare sonnets, I have a lot to teach you. One more reason to keep me here forever.”

“I don’t need reasons to keep you forever,” Kurt says and then, realising his words, hides his face in his pillow. “Ugh, this was so tacky,” he groans with his voice muffled.

“But I appreciate the sentiment and reciprocate it.”

“Oh, my boyfriend is using fancy words this morning,” Kurt drawls.

Blaine stops stroking Kurt’s back and stares at him, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Boyfriend?” Kurt shrugs one shoulder. “I like the sound of that,” Blaine adds, leaning in to press a kiss to Kurt’s nose.

“I like you,” Kurt replies in a coy voice before pushing at Blaine until he lies on his back. Kurt curls up into his side and rests his head on Blaine’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

They stay like that for a long time, relishing in the calm and serenity of the moment. For the first time since they met, they don’t have to be afraid to be together, they can only be without worrying about anything.

Kurt can feel his eyes getting heavy a few times but he fights sleep with all his might. He doesn’t want to waste a minute of the time he has alone with Blaine sleeping. Nevertheless, he’s drifting to sleep and Blaine’s slow and steady strokes on his back are not helping.

“Oh, god, sorry,” Blaine mutters when his stomach rumbles loudly.

“I don’t want to get up,” Kurt whines as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “It’s not even nine yet.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve!” Blaine says cheerfully as he sits up, too. “And we, hum, we have plans for later today, right?”

Blaine’s words shoot straight to Kurt’s groin, making him tighten his fingers in the sheets involuntarily. “We do,” he replies in a low voice before clearing his throat. “Breakfast?”

Kurt gets a kick out of preparing breakfast. He feels like he’s playing pretend because imagining that this will be his life from now on is still surreal. He can’t wrap his mind around the fact that he is now living with Blaine – and Finn and Carole but they hardly matter at the moment – and that he’ll never have to go back to that dreadful school.

Blaine plays right along, acting like a self-important husband as he reads the newspaper and sips on his cup of coffee while sitting at the small kitchen table. He even calls Kurt ‘honey’ and ‘darling’, which never fails to make Kurt flush with pleasure, although if Blaine asks, he’ll say it’s because of the heat of the stove that his face is glowing.

“Thank you, dear,” Blaine says warmly as Kurt puts a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him.

“Don’t get used to this. I am not playing housewife all the time,” Kurt says sharply as he sits down next to him.

Blaine bursts out laughing and presses a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “Trust me, you do not want to see me behind a stove.”

“Funny, I was just thinking that I’d love to see this,” Kurt replies coyly. “I could teach you, if you want.” And Kurt grins because they can do this, now; they can talk about a future together.

“I’d love that.” Blaine’s voice is warm and soft and Kurt’s skin buzzes with happiness and love. He takes a bite of his scrambled eggs and lets out a groan that sends an entirely different kind of shiver down Kurt’s spine. “Oh my god, you have to explain to me how you made eggs taste this good.”

Kurt giggles and blushes at Blaine’s words. He tries to hide it by staring down at his plate and drinking coffee but when he looks up, Blaine is smiling smugly. “Oh, stop it,” Kurt grunts, rolling his eyes.

“Make me.”

Kurt narrows his eyes before surging forward and pressing his lips to Blaine’s, who lets out a surprised squeal and leans back under Kurt’s momentum. Kurt grips Blaine’s shoulder when he feels him topple backwards, which brings him flush against his chest.

Blaine kisses back hard and lets out a whimper from the back of his throat when Kurt sucks lightly on his top lip. The sound makes Kurt breathe out loudly and he laps at Blaine’s lip. When Blaine keeps his lips resolutely closed, Kurt licks again, this time with more insistence. He kisses Blaine wetly and sucks on his lip again, determined to make the boy part his lips because he feels like his skin is on fire and he needs Blaine to do it.

Blaine pushes at him until Kurt breaks the kiss, licking his lips and pressing them tightly together. “We haven’t brushed our teeth. It’s really gross.” Blaine’s voice is breathy and unusually low.

Kurt lets his hand drag down Blaine’s arm, the muscles shifting under his touch when Blaine brings his hand to Kurt’s waist and squeezes it. Blaine’s hand is warm and his grip almost hurts and Kurt’s skin is tingling all over from that single point of contact. Kurt keeps staring at the buttons of Blaine’s pajama shirt, at the triangle of skin visible thanks to the first button behind undone, and he licks his lips again.

“I—hum,” Kurt stammers to a stop when he realises Blaine is staring at his lips. Shaking his head slightly, he shifts his gaze to the clock on the wall behind Blaine so he isn’t distracted by Blaine’s body. “I’m not really hungry. I’ll go take a shower, alright? You finish eating and then you can shower, if you want to. Just leave the plate in the sink, I’ll deal with it later.”

Blaine blinks and seems to surface from deep within his thoughts at Kurt’s words. “Y—yeah, sure. You do that,” he says slowly, his eyes still locked on Kurt’s lips.

Kurt hurries through his shower – he’s half-hard but if everything goes as planned, something will be done about it soon enough – and he nearly breaks his toothbrush with how hard he brushes his teeth when he gets out. He doesn’t bother doing anything to his hair and puts on a simple white undershirt and trousers. Hopefully, it’ll speed up things once Blaine is ready.

Shouting down the stairs to Blaine that the shower is available, Kurt goes to his room and picks up a book at random. He sits on his bed and tries to read it but his mind keeps wandering to the bathroom ever since he heard the water turn on.

Closing the book with a sigh, Kurt considers pacing the room back and forth until Blaine is ready. He feels like there’s an electric current running under his skin, making him thrum and vibrate. He’s nervous, too; so nervous that he’s shaking. He might have already done something like that with Blaine before but it was spontaneous, leaving no room for his nerves to kick in. This time, though, he’s had hours to think about it, hours to invent thousands of scenarios and hours to anticipate it in a hazy state of aroused frenzy.

Abandoning all hopes to stay calmly in his room, Kurt crosses the hallway and enters the guestroom. He’ll wait for Blaine there and it’ll only make it happen sooner.

The bed is unmade, which occupies him for a few minutes. He’s placing the pillows back in place when he hears Blaine clearing his throat. With a start, Kurt spins around and he sees Blaine standing in the doorway and only wearing a towel around his waist. His wet hair is already starting to curl, droplets keep falling from the tip of the dark strands and Kurt wants nothing more than lick him.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to bring clothes with me. I’ll just—” Blaine lets out bashfully, entering the room and heading for his suitcase. He’s not looking at Kurt and it’s for the best because he’s unashamedly staring with his mouth hanging open.

“You don’t need clothes for what I have in mind,” Kurt says in a breathy voice. He has no idea where that boldness comes from but, judging from the way Blaine’s eyes have visibly darkened when he looks at Kurt, it’s appreciated.

“Oh shit,” Blaine lets out in a groan before walking up to Kurt and taking his face in his hands. “I’m going to kiss you, now. But if you don’t mean what you’ve just said, you should stop me before I start because I won’t be able to stop.”

Kurt rolls his eyes despite his heart beating at an alarming pace. Putting his hands on Blaine’s waist, he slips the tips of his fingers under the towel. Blaine takes in a shuddering breath as goose bumps appear on his skin. Blaine drops his hands from Kurt’s face and settles them on his biceps, looking at Kurt in a mix of awe and anticipation when Kurt takes a step closer; he’s close enough now for the droplets of water still covering Blaine’s skin to wet the fabric of his shirt every time he breathes in. He can feel Blaine’s erection against his thigh and his breath hitches.

“What are you waiting for,” Kurt breathes out, his lips ghosting over Blaine’s. “Kiss me.”

Blaine’s fingers dig into Kurt’s flesh before he leans up to meet Kurt’s lips. Kurt immediately pulls Blaine’s upper lip into his mouth, sucking on it until Blaine growls and tightens his grip. Letting go, Kurt licks into Blaine’s mouth and briefly rubs his tongue against his palate before giving Blaine a chaste kiss and pulling away.

Blaine’s eyes remain closed and he looks like Kurt’s arms are probably the only thing keeping him up at the moment. “Bed?” Kurt mouths against Blaine’s lips, kissing him again.

Blaine gulps before nodding and pushing Kurt backwards. Kurt lets out a chuckle when the back of his knees hit the side of the mattress and he heavily sits down on it, Blaine now looking down at him, his hands still on Kurt’s arms.

Kurt looks away from Blaine’s face and sets his eyes on Blaine’s naked chest. He reaches a shaking hand up and presses it over Blaine’s heart, shaking his head when Blaine puts his own hand over Kurt’s. Obediently, Blaine moves it off and Kurt starts dragging his hands down, teasing fingertips skating across the warm skin. He has to work hard to ignore the fading bruises darkening Blaine’s skin; he feels guilty despite knowing it wasn’t his fault. He doesn’t dare try to figure out what was done to Blaine that dreadful afternoon to make him talk, but Kurt hopes the brownish-yellow bruise he spotted near Blaine’s ribs is the worst mark he has.

Kurt tentatively rubs at Blaine’s hardened nipples with two fingers, eliciting a small moan from Blaine. Pinching them between his forefingers and thumbs, Kurt tugs on them with fascination, letting go all at once when Blaine’s hips jerk forward and Blaine whines.

“Shh,” Kurt hushes him kindly, moving his hands away and downward.

He presses the heel of his palms into Blaine’s stomach, the flesh firm under his touch, and so warm it’s almost uncomfortable. He trails down to Blaine’s navel, which he teases lightly with his thumb, before settling on his jutting hipbones, fingers back near the top of the towel. Now that Kurt’s eyes have followed his hands down, he can see Blaine’s erection tenting the towel and he licks his lips, hands going up and down Blaine’s sides, raising goose bumps in their wake.

Kurt closes his eyes and leans forward, breathing out a puff of warm air against Blaine’s stomach. He twitches and his fingers flex against Kurt’s arms but he doesn’t make a sound. Kurt smiles fondly before kissing Blaine’s heated skin. After a tender first kiss, Kurt trails wet and sucking kisses across Blaine’s belly, licking his navel lightly when he reaches it.

Blaine moans at that and his hands settle into Kurt’s hair, pulling him away. Kurt looks up and his smile disappears when he sees the look on Blaine’s face. He barely has time to brace himself before Blaine is pushing him on his back and climbing on the bed to straddle Kurt’s hips, holding himself up over Kurt on all fours. The front flap of the towel is hanging down, resting against Kurt’s thighs.

Kurt reaches down to it while Blaine dives down to kiss his neck with increasingly desperate hums. Kurt settles his hands on Blaine’s hips and deliberately pulls lightly on the towel, making Blaine sit back on his heels in a blink.

“I want to take it off,” Kurt says, his erection now definitely on the wrong side of uncomfortable in the confines of his pants.

Blaine nods jerkily and climbs off Kurt, walking on his knees across the bed until he can lie down against the pillows. Kurt sits up watches Blaine get comfortable, smiling at the way his fingers start drumming nervously on his stomach when he realises Kurt is staring.

“Good?”

“Yes. Do what you want,” Blaine replies earnestly and Kurt can’t hold back the whine that escapes his throat.

Scooting across the bed until he’s sitting on his knees by Blaine’s hips, Kurt directs his shaking fingers to the towel once more, this time heading for the place where Blaine tucked it in. With one last glance to confirm it’s okay, Kurt pulls the fabric away while biting his lips, his heart hammering in his chest and his entire body tingling.

Blaine squirms to help Kurt take the towel from under him and then it gets thrown to the ground to be forgotten completely. And Kurt stares; he stares because this is better than anything he could have ever imagined and it’s going to take a few seconds for his mind to wrap around the sight.

Blaine’s cock is resting against his belly, fully hard and already leaking precome, making the flushed dark red head shine. There’s a vein running down the length that catches Kurt’s attention and his fingers flex in his lap with the urge to trace it.

“Can I?” he asks shyly, hesitantly moving his hand towards Blaine’s cock.

Blaine lets out a strangled noise that Kurt interprets as a yes and then he’s covering his dick with his hand, his wrist almost touching his balls while his fingertips are splayed up the length. Kurt can feel Blaine’s pulse through the thick vein he is growing obsessive of and he moves his hand down until he can drag his index finger down it, all the while staring in awe.

Blaine is panting and letting out small noises while Kurt keeps rubbing up and down that vein, first with his index finger then with his thumb, pressing down tentatively right under the head. Blaine groans and pushes his hips up so Kurt repeats his action, this time rubbing the spot with his thumb.

“Oh, god,” Blaine says brokenly. “Please—can you—more?”

Kurt closes his finger around Blaine’s cock and gives a tentative stroke. Blaine sighs and closes his eyes, a small smile appearing on his lips. Encouraged, Kurt begins moving his hand up and down Blaine’s length, mimicking what he did the very few times he tried it on himself.

With his free hand, Kurt draws patterns up Blaine’s chest, fingertips ghosting over his flesh, over nipples which he rubs more firmly for a second or two before moving away, all the way up to Blaine’s head. Kurt brushes his index on Blaine’s lips, tracing his smile. Blaine kisses his finger, barely moving his lips, and Kurt moves his hand to cup Blaine’s cheek. His thumb strokes Blaine’s cheekbones and then his eyelashes, which finally causes Blaine to flutter his eyes open.

“Is this good?” Kurt asks and as he hesitates, the rhythm of his hand turns sloppy and irregular so he lets go all at once.

Blaine protests and pouts. “It was! Why did you stop?”

“I wasn’t sure—” Kurt stops abruptly when Blaine wraps his fingers around Kurt’s wrist and tugs him forward, getting up on one elbow to kiss him.

It’s sloppy and intense, Blaine feverishly covering Kurt’s lips with licks and kisses that make his mind reel. Kurt whines when Blaine runs his hand down his side, pressing hard into his flesh and then squeezing his hip tight enough to hurt. Kurt melts into Blaine’s body, shifting to straddle his thigh while Blaine keeps pressing down on the small of his back, only stopping when Kurt is lying half on top of him.

Blaine hisses when Kurt moves and his thigh presses against his cock, the scratchy wool of his trousers dragging on the sensitive skin.

“Sit up,” Blaine says in a low voice, pushing Kurt off him and sitting up at the same time. Without a word, he grips the hem of Kurt’s white shirt and starts pulling it off.

The tables have turned and it’s Blaine’s turn to be bold and forward. He pushes Kurt with a hand on his shoulder so he lies down before working his trousers open and Kurt gasps when Blaine grabs his cock and starts stroking it quickly. His hips buck up and he curls his toes in the comforter, trying to deal with the sudden onslaught of sensations.

“Blaine—” he begins, only to stop and gasp again when Blaine rubs his thumb under the head of his cock, mirroring Kurt’s earlier actions. “Blaine, slow down,” he manages to choke out before keening in a high voice as Blaine cups his balls with his free hands.

Blaine ignores him, instead bending down and licking over his right nipple and wrapping his mouth around it when Kurt whines brokenly. He gives a tentative suck to the sensitive nub, at the same time twisting his wrist on the upstroke, and all Kurt can do is push his fingers in Blaine’s hair and grip the curls tightly, breathless moans leaving his mouth.

“Blaine, please,” Kurt tries again, whimpering as he feels his entire body tensing. “Blaine!” he says with more force and he tugs on Blaine’s hair until he lifts his head and looks at Kurt. “Slow down.”

Blaine closes his eyes and nods. With one last kiss to Kurt’s chest, he moves up until he can lie on his side next to Kurt, one arm under his head. Kurt mirrors his position and smiles in the way he knows makes him look twelve years old but never fails to make Blaine smile back.

“I don’t want it to be over too soon,” Kurt breathes out, his fingers going back to Blaine’s hair to softly stroke it, fingers brushing along the shell of his ear from time to time.

“I can’t help it. Not when I’m with you. I love everything about you.”

Kurt lifts an eyebrow and smirks, feeling coy. He moves closer to Blaine and pushes his knee between Blaine’s. “What do you love most?” he asks coquettishly.

Blaine reacts predictably to Kurt’s question, blushing and looking away. “It’s hard to say,” he finally says in a scratchy voice. Kurt pouts, which makes Blaine laugh. “Your lips. I really love your lips.”

“Really?” Kurt says dryly, the sparkle in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks contrasting with his words. “I didn’t think you were this shallow. I thought you loved my charming personality best.”

“That, too. Even though you were really rude with me the first time we met.”

Kurt groans and closes his eyes in a frown. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine says, leaning in for a brief kiss. “I love your eyes, too. It’s the first thing I noticed. I love your skin.”

“My skin?” Kurt quirks his eyebrow.

“Yes,” Blaine breathes out, letting go of Kurt’s hand to squeeze his hip. “It’s soft and pale and perfect, and I love how easily I can leave marks.” They both look down at Kurt’s hip, where five red spots have appeared after Blaine squeezed once more. “And I love the contrast with my own.”

Blaine drags his hand up and down Kurt’s side, sending shivers all over Kurt’s body. Kurt rolls forward until he can kiss Blaine, his hand holding the back of Blaine’s head while Blaine’s hand moves to press on the small of Kurt’s back, pulling him closer before rolling them around and straddling Kurt’s thigh.

“Also,” Blaine says with a kiss to Kurt’s jaw. “I love that you’re taller and bigger than me.” He groans and nips at the base of Kurt’s jaw, making him keen. “I really love it.”

“I love that you exist,” Kurt says when Blaine starts kissing and sucking down his neck. “I love that I met you. I love loving you.”

Blaine nods against Kurt’s skin while he keeps kissing down his chest. Blaine’s feather-like strokes and warm kisses make Kurt tremble and whine. Kurt breathes out sharply and bucks up his hips when Blaine bites lightly on his hipbone, his broad hands stopping their up and down strokes to hold his waist tightly. A few more kisses across Kurt’s stomach make him squirm – “It tickles, Blaine!” – then Blaine makes him moan loudly with a bold lick up from the base to the head of his cock.

Without further warning, Blaine takes Kurt in his mouth and experimentally sucks on the head. Kurt’s hips buck up again and it pushes his cock farther into Blaine’s mouth, the tip dragging against Blaine’s palate and his tongue pressing on the underside as Blaine jerks back in surprise.

“Sorry!” Kurt says breathlessly, covering his face with his hands.

Wrapping a hand around Kurt’s cock and keeping the other on his hip, Blaine takes him in his mouth once more, this time sinking his head lower and dragging his lips back up once. “Is this good?” he asks, licking the tip when Kurt doesn’t reply immediately.

“Yes, yes,” Kurt breathes out. He keeps his eyes tightly closed; the sight of Blaine in that moment would probably be enough to send him over the edge.

Blaine’s mouth is back on him before he can brace himself and he moans, his hands flying to rest on Blaine’s head, gripping his hair tightly. Blaine starts moving his head up and down and it feels good – amazing, incredible, mind-blowing – but then he presses his tongue on the underside of Kurt’s cock and the roughness of it as he drags along the sensitive skin makes Kurt gasp.

“Oh, that’s great,” he growls, fingers tightening in Blaine’s hair.

“Yeah?”

Kurt can’t stop himself pushing Blaine’s head down when he stops to talk and it makes Blaine chuckle, the vibrations reverberating through Kurt’s body in an exquisite way, his toes curling with pleasure. That’s the moment Blaine chooses to tentatively suck as he moves his head down.

Kurt lets out a broken moan and digs his fingernails in Blaine’s scalp, his legs falling further apart. Blaine does it again, slowly building a rhythm of licking and sucking that sends Kurt’s mind spiralling. For the second time, Kurt feels like he’s on the edge so he pulls on Blaine’s hair until he lifts it.

“Is something wrong?” he asks with a scratchy voice.

“Too much,” Kurt says through his laboured breath. “C’mere.”

Blaine grins and crawls on all fours to go lie on his side next to Kurt. Kurt turns on his side and kisses Blaine slowly, a shiver shaking him when he tastes something sharp and foreign on Blaine’s tongue. With one more suck on Kurt’s tongue, Blaine pulls away and rests his forehead against Kurt’s.

“How did it feel?” Blaine asks.

“I’ll show you.”

Blaine lets out a strangled noise as Kurt leaves his side to swiftly move down his body, planting kisses here and there until he’s kneeling between Blaine’s legs. Hesitantly, Kurt takes Blaine’s cock in his hand. Bending forward, Kurt presses his tongue to the slit, remembering how good it had felt when Blaine did the same.

Blaine lets out a surprised gasp and then grins. His confidence boosted, Kurt takes Blaine in his mouth as deeply as he can before pulling back and licking the tip once more. Once more in his mouth and on the upstroke, he presses his tongue underneath, letting it drag along Blaine’s shaft and pressing it under the head. Getting the hang of it, Kurt starts building a rhythm, no longer taking Blaine’s cock out of his mouth every time, and after a few times, he tries sucking like Blaine did.

Blaine groans and grips the sheets, his legs wrapping around Kurt’s shoulders and his heels digging in his flesh. Kurt keeps going, quickening the pace when Blaine starts moaning and groaning loudly and in his enthusiasm, he lets his teeth drag on Blaine’s skin.

Blaine hisses and squirms away, dropping his legs from around Kurt’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asks, panicked.

“Teeth,” Blaine says. Kurt doesn’t have the time to worry he hurt Blaine because Blaine is grabbing his arms tightly and pulling him up, crashing their mouths together as soon as Kurt is precariously holding himself up over him.

Blaine pushes his thigh between Kurt’s and pulls him down with a hand on his back. Kurt lets his legs slide down the bed until he’s lying on top of Blaine, his erection pressed between his stomach and Blaine’s hip. He can feel Blaine’s against his own hip and he rocks forward tentatively.

Both boys moan at the friction and Blaine pushes his hips up to meet Kurt’s, his leg hooking over Kurt’s and pulling him further down.

Still kissing, they begin rocking their hips together, the friction making Kurt whine and keen into Blaine’s mouth while he strokes Kurt’s back, nails digging in every time the angle and pressure is just right.

Kurt’s thighs are sore from the constant strain and he’s trembling all over; his lips and jaw ache from kissing Blaine too hard and he can feel the skin of his back burning where Blaine scratched his nails. Their sweat-slicked bodies stick and slide together and Kurt is so hot he feels like he’s about to catch on fire and that’s when he feels his entire body tightening seconds before he comes, breaking the kiss and gasping out curse words and Blaine’s name.

Blaine strengthen his hold on Kurt’s back to keep him close while he keeps pushing his hips up against Kurt’s and soon after, Kurt can feel the warmth of his come between their bodies, Blaine tensing and trembling underneath him. Kurt kisses him softly when he relaxes back against the mattress and then he rolls off, feeling blissful and sated.

“I’m going to need another shower,” Blaine says after long minutes of silence during which they tried to catch their breath.

Kurt bursts out laughing, giggling so hard he ends up coughing. It takes him a while to calm down but when he does, he gives Blaine a large grin. “Me too.”

Blaine’s eyes light up and he rolls off the bed, extending his hand for Kurt. He doesn’t seem self-conscious at all, despite the drying come covering his stomach and his sweaty skin, or the fact that he’s completely naked. Kurt, on the other hand, feels awkward now that his mind is not fogged up with lust and he reflexively covers himself with a pillow when he sits up.

“Ah, come on, Kurt! I’ve had it in my mouth. Don’t be shy.”

“Do you have to be so crass?” Kurt asks, scrunching up his nose.

“Come on, I want to shower with you.”

Kurt hesitates one more second before taking his hand and letting Blaine guide him to the bathroom. Kurt is thrilled when he realises that he’s walking naked through his house with another boy and when he reaches the bathroom, he’s grinning wickedly.

“So, I never got to finish that thing,” Kurt says as he closes the door behind them.

“What thing?” Blaine asks nonchalantly. It’s clear he missed Kurt’s intent. Kurt rolls his eyes.

“You know…” Kurt drawls, leaning against the counter and downright leering at Blaine.

“No?” With that, Blaine bends forward to start the water and Kurt loses his train of thought at the sight of Blaine’s naked ass. He takes a few steps forward and stands behind Blaine, debating whether it would be creepy to reach out and grope it.

Kurt does it anyway, causing Blaine to yelp and straighten up. “Okay?” Kurt breathes in his ear before licking the lobe.

Blaine clears his throat. “Y—yeah,” he rasps out.

Kurt adds a second hand and starts massaging the plump cheeks. His thumbs meet at the top of the cleft and Kurt leans forward to press a kiss to Blaine’s shoulder before dragging his thumbs down the crack of Blaine’s ass, pressing them in and spreading the cheeks apart until he reaches the crease of his thighs.

Blaine is breathing hard, his knuckles turning white from gripping the shower curtain. Kurt moves his right hand off Blaine’s ass and reaches between his legs, his fingertips brushing against Blaine’s balls while his left arm wraps around Blaine’s shoulders possessively. Blaine lets go of the shower curtain to hold Kurt’s arm with both hands when Kurt starts dragging his fingers back along Blaine’s perineum, pressing in until he feels Blaine’s hole.

Pressing even more, Kurt pushes the tip of his middle finger against the ring of muscles. It’s like an electric current runs through Blaine and he jerks away, turning around and looking at Kurt with wide eyes.

“Too much?” Kurt asks sheepishly.

“Yeah.” Blaine’s voice shakes and he clears his throat as he rubs the back of his neck.

He’s half-hard nonetheless and Kurt is getting there, too, so he grabs Blaine’s shoulders and stirs him into the bathtub, following after him and turning on the showerhead before crashing their mouths together.

The shower only ends because they run out of hot water. Kurt comes twice, once almost in Blaine’s mouth and the next time all over Blaine’s back after they blushingly decided to try Kurt’s dick between Blaine’s ass cheeks, which started awkwardly but ended up with both boys moaning loudly and coming almost at the same time. Blaine looks like he wants to keep going after they washed up but then the water turns icy cold and ruins the mood for good.

They spend the rest of the day by the fire in the living room, reading books or watching the snow fall while drinking cup after cup of tea and hot chocolate. They don’t need to talk or sit close to one another; being in the same room is enough and the brief glances and smiles they exchange from time to time are worth a thousand kisses. The radio is dimly playing Christmas songs in the background.

Carole and Finn come home sometime after five o’clock, exhausted by their day of work but smiling at the prospect of a day off in the middle of the week. They all give Carole a hand with cooking – Finn grumbles that it’s a woman’s job until Kurt stares him down – and eat in a cheery atmosphere.

“Why don’t you boys go in the living room while Kurt and I do the dishes?” Carole offers once they’ve all but licked their plates clean.

Kurt feels a weight drop in his stomach and he watches Blaine and Finn leave while he gathers the dirty plates to bring them by the sink. Once he’s there, Carole hands him a towel and fills the sink, humming quietly to herself, which only worsen Kurt’s apprehension.

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” she asks lightly, the tension in her shoulders betraying her real state of mind.

“I don’t know, do I?” Kurt asks just as lightly, smiling innocently when she looks at him.

“Kurt, you may only have been my son for a year and lived away for more than half of that time, but I know when my sons lie to me.”

Kurt swallows back a gasp, his breath nonetheless hitching. Clearing his throat, he grabs the plate Carole hands him and focuses on drying it so his voice doesn’t fail him. “I’m not going back there,” he says in a low voice.

“Isn’t that a bit overdramatic? It can’t be that bad, honey.”

Kurt shakes his head, swallowing hard. “And neither is Blaine. We—they—” Kurt clears his throat again. “Did you know the worst part of flogging isn’t the whipping itself but the weeks it takes to heal?”

Carole’s reaction is Kurt’s undoing. She drops the glass she’d been washing in the sink, splashing water all over the counter and her apron, to hug Kurt tightly. “Oh, sweetheart. I thought it was for the best, sending you there, that it would keep you safe while you recovered from your dad’s death. I never thought—”

“It’s not your fault, Carole. You couldn’t change my uncles’ minds. They would have found a way to send me away no matter what. But—” Kurt pauses and breathes in deeply. “They’re going to kill us if we go back,” Kurt chokes out into her shoulder. “I’m so scared. Not for me, but for Blaine. I don’t want him to get hurt because of me. He’s too good—he’s—I can’t let that happen to him, Carole. I can’t let them turn him into me.”

“Why would they hurt Blaine?” Carole asks, stepping back to hold Kurt by his shoulders.

Kurt wipes his eyes and nose quickly then stares at her. “You know why.”

Carole smiles sadly and nods. “Of course I do,” she says and tightens her fingers around Kurt’s shoulders. “But I don’t love you any less for it.”

“Thank you,” he replies, barely any sound leaving his tight throat. He takes a deep breath and wipes his eyes again.

“What about Blaine’s parents?”

“They don’t care. He says they will, but who willingly sends their son there if they care about him?” Kurt says darkly, mindlessly wiping the counter with his towel.

“Do they know he’s here?”

“He wrote to them saying he wouldn’t come over for Christmas.” Kurt shrugs.

“But they’ll notice when he doesn’t go back to school.”

“I think as long as he’s not a burden for his father, he won’t care.”

Carole nods and goes back to the sink. “I’ll pretend this sounds logical for Christmas’ sake. I’ll be a responsible adult on the 26th.” Carole winks and flicks suds at Kurt, who gasps indignantly and elbows her.

Before they leave the kitchen, Carole stops Kurt and hugs him again, rocking them sideways until Kurt laughs and kisses her cheek.

They spend the hours leading to Christmas High Mass listening to Carole’s embarrassing stories about Finn with the radio playing in the background. Kurt hasn’t listened to the radio in years and only now does he realise how much he missed music.

The three boys make Carole laugh until she cries when they start singing along to Adeste Fideles; well, Finn and Blaine sing it while Kurt tries to get Blaine off the furniture and it only makes Carole laugh harder when Blaine ignores Kurt, using his shoulder as support as he moves from the couch to the coffee table. He eventually joins Carole’s laughter, unable to resist the faces Blaine and Finn make.

Blaine collapses on the couch after the song, breathless and wiping away tears of laughter, and if Kurt leans into his side in a less than subtle way, he’ll blame the eggnog and the quantity of rum he spotted Finn pouring in it.

Later, when the alcohol has made them feel lazy and careless, Kurt and Blaine sing over Baby It’s Cold Outside in an overtly flirty way and Kurt feels his heart expand at the way Carole looks at them, eyes fond, acceptance obvious in every smiles and laughs she lets out.

At eleven o’clock, the Fabrays ring the doorbell and Carole invites them in for a drink. Kurt and Blaine escape the soon-to-be family reunion and head for their rooms to change.

“Mass,” Blaine says with a sigh when he walks into Kurt’s room without knocking, dropping on his bed and holding a pillow to his chest.

Kurt hums, holding two vests in front of him while looking in the mirror as he tries to decide which one to wear. “Which one?”

“The black one,” Blaine answers before sighing again and throwing himself on his back, making the bed bounce under his weight.

“I am getting the feeling you’re unhappy about something,” Kurt says with a smirk as he puts the vest on and then starts looking for a tie.

“It’s just. Mass. Christmas Mass.”

“What about Mass, Blaine? You went every Sunday without a problem for months.” Kurt hums to get Blaine’s attention to the two bow ties he’s holding.

“Red. And I know I have, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

Kurt shrugs. “What else is there to do on Christmas Eve?”

“Drink eggnog and cuddle by the fireplace?”

“Ah, but then you would miss all the gossip on the people in this parish,” Kurt says as he climbs on the bed and pulls Blaine upwards, clicking his tongue as he takes in the way Blaine tied his bow tie. “Did you do it with your eyes closed?”

“How can you have gossip on people you haven’t seen in a year?” Blaine asks, pushing his chin up to let Kurt tie his bow tie right.

“I don’t, but my friend Brittany does.”

“I’ve heard her name before.” Blaine looks down at Kurt, his head still bent back causing his eyes to cross adorably.

“Quinn mentioned her last night. I was expected to fall in love and marry her, but that was never going to happen. She’s in love with her maid.”

“No way.”

“It’s Lima’s worst-kept secret. Well, that and my taste in lovers. Shh,” Kurt says, mockingly hushing Blaine with a finger on his lips.

“Well, I personally quite enjoy your choice,” Blaine replies with a smirk.

“Do you, now?” Kurt crawls closer, loosely wrapping his arms around Blaine’s shoulders. Blaine sits up on his knees and his hands immediately go to Kurt’s waist, holding him tightly.

“Yeah.” Blaine’s voice is nothing more than a breath, which ghosts over Kurt’s lips in a very pleasant way. He then closes the gap, pressing their lips together firmly.

Kurt parts his lips into the kiss and tightens his arms to bring Blaine closer, eyes fluttering shut and heartbeat quickening almost instantly. Blaine lets out a tiny whimper when Kurt scratches the nape of his neck and darts his tongue out to lick his upper lip.

It’s with reluctance that Kurt pulls away, groaning that he has to be a good guest before sauntering out of the room. He might not be happy about it, but if he fakes it hard enough, maybe he’ll be able to play the part.

Plastering a smile on his face, he enters the living room and greets the Fabrays, exchanging pleasantries like his mother taught him years ago, before his manners got roughened from living alone with his father and he had to teach himself from watching the adults around him.

Quinn grabs Kurt’s arm when they step outside, stopping him at the bottom of the stairs. Blaine glances at the pair of them and Kurt shrugs, motioning him to go with the others. Quinn only starts walking when they’re out of earshot of everyone else, keeping her pace slow and her eyes cast down.

“Quinn—”

“I owe you an apology.” She looks up at Kurt, her green eyes darkened by a frown.

“It’s okay, Quinn.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not. I feel terrible. I’ve always respected you, Kurt, but I didn’t act the part last night. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret it, Quinn. I’ve heard worse.” Kurt lifts his chin unconsciously, his defence mechanisms kicking in despite himself. “I’ve thought worse of myself. This isn’t something I chose, you know.” He can’t keep the bitterness out of his voice as he gives her a sardonic smile.

The only sounds coming between them for a while after that are the creaking of snow under their feet and the voices and laughter of other families. The streets are filled with merry voices and cheers as the neighbourhood makes its way towards the church for High Mass and Kurt wonders how many families will be mourning, soon. He wonders how many smiles are faked to try and ignore the horrible anxiety and terror that must occupy their thoughts at all time. How many of those kids will end up fatherless before New Year, how many more before Easter? Maybe both his parents dying from sickness wasn’t so bad, after all. He got to say goodbye.

“Never mind what the facts are, I shouldn’t have said those things to you. And it’s even worse that I did it in front of your family.”

Kurt swallows and blinks back tears before clearing his throat. He’s not thinking about his orphan state on Christmas Eve, not when a boy he loves probably too much is only a few paces ahead of him.

Speaking of Blaine, “I’m most upset that you said it in front of Blaine,” Kurt tells her coldly.

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“I love him like you miss Rachel,” Kurt answers and Quinn nods. A few seconds later, she’s sniffling and holding Kurt’s arm tighter.

“Well, well, well, if that isn’t Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt’s head whips around when he hears Santana’s drawling voice and he grins when he sees Brittany and her walking towards them.

Quinn has to let go of Kurt’s arm when Brittany lurches forward to hug him, the sheer force of the embrace threatening to send them both to the ground. When she lets go, she takes his arm and then greets Quinn, who only raises her eyebrows in acknowledgement.

Kurt pats her arm and she mumbles something about Finn before walking away. When she walks past Blaine, he stops and looks back at Kurt, Brittany and Santana, waiting for them to catch up with him.

“Who’s that?” Brittany asks excitedly when she notices Blaine.

“A friend,” Kurt drawls, smirking and taking Santana’s arm, despite the annoyed click of her tongue.

“A friend like Santana is my friend?”

“Something like that.”

“I doubt it,” Santana replies.

“Try me.” Kurt puts his chin up, smirking as he looks down his nose at Santana’s changing expression. She goes from frowning to smirking, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Good for you, Hummel. Good for you. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

And maybe it’s the rum still clouding his mind or the genuine acceptance of Santana and Brittany, but Kurt doesn’t censor himself. “Not quite yet, no.”

Santana throws her head back and cackles, earning herself a confused look when they reach Blaine.

The introductions are awkward and it’s like Santana is trying to make Blaine uncomfortable at all costs. Within two minutes, he’s blushing and pushing his hands deep inside the pockets of his coat, his head bowed down to look at his feet.

“Santana, give him a break,” Kurt scolds with a smile. “Blaine isn’t accustomed to your brand of crazy, yet.”

“Oh!” Brittany’s cry cuts whatever snarky reply Santana was about to spit. “Oh my god, Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury came together!”

And this starts a string of gossip that only ends when they part at the entrance of the church. Kurt finds out all about Miss Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester’s not-so-secret relationship, about how the Evans’ sons has been seen with the Fabrays’ maid on more than one occasion; Brittany lowers her voice as they walk by the Mottas, whispering about the rumour that Mr. Motta is part of a mafia and then pouts when she tells them that the Flanagans are about to get deported to Ireland. When she runs out of fresh gossip, she starts catching Blaine up with everything that ever happened in Lima, only faltering when she gets to Quinn and Rachel.

“Ah, that one is complicated,” Kurt cuts in, glancing nervously at Quinn and Finn, who are only a few steps ahead of them. “Let’s not rehash old stories.”

“That’s what we’ve been doing for the last fifteen minutes,” Santana replies dryly. She narrows her eyes at Kurt. “I don’t see why it’s different for those two.”

Kurt wants to reply that none of the other people have disappeared without leaving a trace; he wants to snap at Santana that she knows how damaging that kind of gossip is, they’ve both lived it firsthand, and they should show some solidarity. He wants to tell her all that, but the only thing that comes out is: “Santana, it’s Christmas Eve. Show some humanity.”

Santana rolls her eyes and lets go of Kurt’s arm, crossing her arms over her chest and squaring her shoulders.

“Come on, Santana,” Brittany says hurriedly. “We have to get inside. I don’t want to miss the beginning, whenever I stop paying attention I don’t understand what they say. I think it’s God punishment for not listening.” Turning to Blaine, she explains: “I always fall asleep when we have to pray.”

Watching them go, Blaine feebly says ‘that would be because it’s in Latin?’ and Kurt laughs it off with a shrug.

“That’s Brittany for you.”

“Do you have friends that are not crazy?”

“Do you include yourself in this?”

“Would it change the answer?”

“No.”

Blaine laughs and pushes at Kurt’s shoulder playfully, and they both know that this uncommon gesture is for show. Kurt laughs – it’s forced and it sounds fake to his own ears – and then he turns on his heels to face the church.

It’s a tall and imposing building, looming over its surroundings, like an ever-present reminder that they are being watched framed in ridiculously out of place Victorian architecture. Kurt always found it tasteless and used to openly mock it back when his life wasn’t upside down, but now as he stands at the entrance, mockery is the last thing on his mind.

“First time going in there since my father’s funerals,” Kurt says lightly, punctuating his words with a chuckle.

Blaine frowns and brushes his hand on Kurt’s shoulder, fingers flexing against the wool of his coat briefly before returning to his side.

Memories flood his mind as Kurt walks in, taking his breath away like a punch to the stomach. Nothing has changed, the only difference between the funerals and now the pitiful Nativity scene. Kurt nearly bursts out laughing when the baby starts crying loudly when Finn approaches but a glance to the altar is enough to make his breath short once more.

“I thought I was over it,” Kurt whispers to Blaine, leaning in as much as he dares while they make their way to an empty pew, following Carole and the Fabrays. “But I’m not.”

“We can leave, if you need to. You only have to ask and we’re out of here.”

Kurt looks at Blaine before he slides down the pew and his eyes are open and earnest, boring into Kurt’s and making him feel like Blaine knows and understands better than himself what he’s thinking and feeling right now. Blaine smiles when Kurt’s eyes linger and Kurt returns it, mouthing ‘thank you.’

The seconds stretch and then it’s too much, they’ve stared too long and Kurt is hyperaware of the whispers coming from behind him as he moves down the pew to sit next to Finn. He chances a glance over his shoulder when he hears his name pronounced barely above a breath and sees the woman living two houses down from him animatedly conversing with the seamstress he used to go to for his school uniform, two women who have known him for as long as he can remember.

“Calumny is a sin, you know,” Kurt tells them without a greeting.

“That’s why we’re only talking about things that are true,” his neighbour replies curtly, her eyebrows rising. Kurt never liked her, as a child he would cry whenever his mother asked her to look over him for an hour or two while she ran errands, and he can’t stop his polite smile from turning into a sneer before he turns her back to them. Blaine touches his knee and Kurt squeezes his hand briefly.

The church is already too warm before the ceremony begins, and with the number of candles lit up all around them, the temperature is only bound to rise higher. It was warm at his father’s funerals, too, but all Kurt can remember is how cold he felt for weeks after Burt died.

Kurt is itching to hold Blaine’s hand five minutes into Mass. He needs Blaine’s warm hand as an anchor so he can get through it without losing his mind. He can feel the glances, can see people craning their necks around to catch a glimpse of the Hummel boy, back from the dead and there with a date. It was foolish to assume that showing up at Christmas High Mass with Blaine – a boy no one has ever seen before – wouldn’t draw attention, and even if Kurt wants to ignore them and pay attention to the ceremony, whenever he sees the altar he can see his father’s coffin in his mind.

His brows furrow when he thinks of all those times his father would mutter comments during High Mass to try and entertain Kurt, always the same ones, and every cue in the sermon is like a spike driven through his heart. Kurt takes a shuddering breath and closes his eyes. He won’t let himself cry in front of those people. He readjusts his bow tie and pulls on the collar of his shirt.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks in a breath as the rustle of people moving to kneel down covers their conversation.

Kurt shakes his head. “I can’t do this, Blaine.”

“Do you want to leave?”

Kurt licks his lips and frowns, staring at the back of the pew in front of him. The kneeler is making his joints ache and there’s sweat rolling down the back of his neck. The smell of incense is too strong and the priest droning in Latin in front is the same who officiated the funerals and this is when he snaps and nods.

“Okay, yes. Let’s get you out of here,” Blaine whispers in a soothing voice.

There’s a beat as they wait for people to get back up and then he’s politely asking Carole to move, hand around Kurt’s wrist to drag him out in the aisle and then down towards the door, their footsteps loud and all eyes on them and then Kurt is standing outside in the crisp night air and he inhales sharply in a shuddery sob.

Blaine lets him cry for a few minutes before he comes closer, his movement betrayed by the creaking of the snow under his feet. He drapes Kurt’s coat over his shoulders and then grips them, stroking up and down in silence as Kurt tries to calm down enough to be able to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt finally chokes out, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, a childish thing he hasn’t done in years, before turning on his heels to face Blaine. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Kurt.”

Kurt shrugs and rolls his eyes, putting on his coat and wrapping his scarf around his neck when a shiver shakes him. “It’s not like it’s the first Christmas without him. Last year was hard but I wasn’t here and this is just—it’s torture, Blaine. It’d take the physical punishments you caused me a thousand times over this.” Blaine winces and Kurt’s eyes widen as he realises what he’s just said. “No, oh god, not like that, I’m so sorry.”

“I know what you meant,” Blaine says dismissively, stepping forward to tentatively lay his hand on Kurt’s arm. “Want to go home?”

Kurt nods, wiping his eyes quickly, the tears already crystallising in his eyelashes because of the cold. Blaine takes his hand and starts walking, pulling Kurt along until their steps synchronise.

They don’t talk and Kurt appreciates Blaine’s silence. It stopped snowing but everything around them is covered in a thick layer that’s ankle-deep where they’re walking in the middle of a quiet residential street. Their footsteps are muffled and everything is eerie, like they’re the only two persons awake in the world.

Blaine is the one who turns on the lights when they enter the house after stubbing his toe into a wall.

“No, leave them off. I’ll guide you to your room,” Kurt says feebly. Crying gave him a headache and all he wants now is go to bed and wake up in January.

Kurt grabs Blaine’s hand and makes his way upstairs slowly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness halfway there.

“I’ll find my way, now. Thanks,” Blaine whispers before pulling him into a hug. “You’re going to be fine?”

Kurt nods and promises he’ll be alright and then Blaine is gone, leaving Kurt alone in his room. He lasts ten minutes in bed before he’s scrambling across the hallway and into the guest room, entering without knocking.

Blaine sits up immediately and turns on the bedside lamp. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Kurt inwardly groans at how small his voice sounds. “I can’t—not tonight. Please.”

Blaine blinks sleepily and nods, rubbing at his eyes and scooting to the other side of the bed. “Of course.” He holds the covers up, inviting Kurt, and he climbs in quickly, shutting the light before lying down.

“Thank you,” Kurt whispers, feeling Blaine press his chest to his back and wrap his arm around his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He nuzzles behind Kurt’s ear before pressing a kiss there and cuddling closer.

Kurt shrugs and covers Blaine’s hand with his, pushing his fingers between Blaine’s and tightening. “I thought it’d be nice to come back here but all I can see is how he’s not there. He was my entire world and then one day he wasn’t there anymore and I was left to try and figure out what I was supposed to do next. But instead of finding a way to live, I think I just stopped and let life happen around me, you know?”

Blaine hums and presses a kiss to the back of Kurt’s head, tangling their legs and pulling him even closer.

“I never believed in anything but in my father and I, and what we had, so when I didn’t have that anymore, I had nothing.”

“And religion was a good alternative.”

“Not a good one, but it was there. It was offered to me and it was so easy to just hang on to this thread instead of drifting in nothingness. Coming back here, I have to face what I hid from. It’s like all my emotions want to happen at once and I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m sorry that all I’ve been doing since we arrived here is cry. It must be terrible for you.”

Blaine either shakes his head no or nuzzles the back of Kurt’s head, he can’t tell, and Kurt sighs again.

“I’m terrified of my parents’ reaction,” Blaine murmurs after a while. “They won’t be happy. I—ah. I pretended like it was not a big deal to run away with you because I wanted to but my parents—”

“They can’t do anything to you.” Kurt feels a weight settle in his stomach when he realises how egocentric he’s been. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Dragging you into this. It was selfish of me.”

“No, Kurt, you didn’t drag me into anything. I followed you willingly. And I heard you talk with Carole earlier.” Kurt blushes and turns his face into the pillow even though Blaine can’t see him. “You really did this so I wouldn’t get hurt?”

Kurt shrugs and presses his lips together. “You’re all I have. Literally.”

“I don’t need protection.”

“I know.”

“I love you,” Blaine says against the skin of his neck.

Kurt smiles and brings Blaine’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Love you, too.”

Kurt drifts in and out of sleep until the front door slams shut. Behind him, Blaine is fast asleep, his breath deep and loud. Kurt smiles at the sound while he listens to the bits of conversation he can hear through the floor. The voices eventually get nearer until they come from right outside the room.

Kurt keeps his eyes closed and tries to stay motionless when Carole peaks in. The light from the hallway is pouring in the room and he has a hard time not squinting against it.

“Mom?” Finn asks too loudly. “Is something wrong?”

“Quiet, Finn. Let them sleep,” Carole hisses. The door creaks as she pulls it close.

“Wait, them?”

Kurt waits for the click of the door shutting close but it doesn’t come so he risks opening one eye to peak through his eyelashes. Finn and Carole are standing in the doorway, watching the bed. Carole is smiling but Finn is frowning, a mix of confusion and unease on his face.

“Go to bed, Finn,” Carole says tiredly before closing the door and walking away.

Finn keeps talking but Kurt can’t quite make out the words as he starts falling asleep again, pressing back against Blaine and feeling him tighten his arm around his waist.

part five.