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Dancing in the Dark

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The first time Kurt has an orgasm with Blaine it is completely by accident. He’s pretty sure Blaine doesn’t even know.

They are making out in Puck’s basement during what was supposed to be a sleepover dance party. But it has unsurprisingly morphed into a perfect opportunity for a group of hormone-filled teenagers with limited alone time to “get their sexy on,” as Santana would put it. She’s not making any snarky comments right now, however, as she is off in a corner somewhere with Brittany, at least that’s what Kurt assumes. He can’t tell for sure, because he can’t see her, or anyone else. Puck has turned off all the lights, and Kurt can barely see his hand in front of his face. Can’t hear much of anything, either, given the pounding of the music someone has turned up to a ridiculously high level. Kurt wanted to protest at first, until he realized that if he couldn’t see or hear what the other Glee kids were getting up to, no one could see or hear him and Blaine, either.

So now they are lying on the floor, almost underneath a table, Blaine’s jacket under their heads. Kurt’s attention is split between hoping they aren’t too close to the puddle of spilled beer he is certain is nearby, and the increasingly heated kisses Blaine is planting on his face and neck. Blaine’s feet are tangled with his, and although their hips are being kept decidedly apart, Kurt is getting more worked up. Really worked up, he realizes belatedly, as Blaine reaches around, shuffling and tugging at Kurt’s shirt. Kurt is doing the same to Blaine’s sweater, but without much success, as neither of them have much coordination at this point. They aren’t drunk, but aren’t exactly sober, either. Kurt gives up on Blaine’s clothes and tangles the fingers of his free hand in Blaine’s hair, left thankfully free of gel tonight, and without even thinking about it, gives his curls a little tug.

The noise Blaine lets out is delicious, something like a moan, but higher pitched, and oh – Kurt is pressing his hips into the floor, and he can’t believe it. He hadn’t even realized he was that close. A wave of embarrassment rushes over him, and he slides back, rising up on his knees to move away from Blaine before he even catches his breath. “I’ve got to go - get ready for bed,” he blurts out, stumbling towards the faint line of light coming through the door at the top of the stairs.

In the bathroom, washed up and dressed in clean briefs and his navy blue pajamas, Kurt looks at himself in the mirror. His face has finally returned to a less tomato-like shade, his hair has been tamed, and he needs to get back to the party. To Blaine. Who is probably wondering what the hell happened. But he can’t imagine what he is going to say.

In the kitchen, he joins Mercedes, who is idly straightening up the bowls of popcorn and pretzels while she waits for her dad to pick her up – she isn’t spending the night. Mercedes asks him if he is okay, and he responds with a pasted-on smile, one he has perfected over the years. She gives him a gentle hug and heads out, leaving Kurt with no option but to go back downstairs.

The atmosphere has changed – the music is now less-earsplitting and a low light has been turned on. Except for Mike and Tina who are still entwined on the couch, his friends are moving around, no longer attached to each other by the lips. Blaine has set out their sleeping bags in a somewhat protected corner, and is sitting cross-legged on top of his, his Dalton t-shirt pulling attractively across his shoulders as he sends what Kurt guesses is a goodnight text to his mom. He looks up when Kurt approaches, his smile bright, no sign of distress apparent. Kurt immediately decides that tonight’s disaster will never be spoken of, and slides quickly into his sleeping bag, Blaine doing the same next to him and taking his hand in his. The lights are eventually dimmed again, and Kurt tilts his head closer to Blaine, their foreheads almost touching. Despite the awkward and the uncertainty, Blaine radiates comfort and sweetness and love, and Kurt can’t think of anywhere else he would rather be.


It is weeks before he and Blaine have anything resembling privacy again. They settle for hurried make-out sessions in the back of Kurt’s car, parked a block away from Blaine’s house, hoping that no one notices. But it is far from comfortable, and Kurt is always worried about someone catching them. They never remove any clothes, although Kurt is dying to touch more of Blaine’s skin, more than just the expanse of his back he reaches by rucking his shirt up and sliding his hand inside. Pants stay firmly on. Kurt can’t imagine the humiliation of being caught with his pants down by a neighbor or, god forbid, the cops. Teenage hormones are one thing, but he does have some sense.

One night after dinner at Kurt’s house, Burt and Carole surprise them by going out to a movie. Burt gives Kurt a stern look and reminds him that Finn is upstairs supposedly studying – grounded until he can convince Carole that he is going to pass biology – and then they are gone. Determined to behave and convinced that Finn will come downstairs as soon as Burt and Carole drive off, Kurt and Blaine decide to watch a movie in the family room. After a half hour goes by and Finn still hasn’t joined them, they relax into each other, lying down on the couch with Kurt curled up behind Blaine. They have gone quiet, neither paying much attention to the movie, when Kurt starts kissing Blaine. The skin of his neck is right in front of his face, if he shifts just a little, and Blaine stretches in response to the welcome touch, leaning back against Kurt just a little more. Kurt’s hand had been resting rather innocently on Blaine’s hip, but now he moves it forward, his palm pressing flat against Blaine’s chest. Blaine’s breathing speeds up, and he’s almost panting, as Kurt gingerly slides his hand up and around, tracing the planes of Blaine’s body, finally sliding a finger against Blaine’s skin in between two buttons of his shirt. He finds a nipple, and, practically holding his breath, rubs a fingertip against it.

Blaine eyes are closed now, and he’s trembling. Kurt is amazed at what he is doing to Blaine, the effect he is having on him. And Kurt is so, so turned on. Blaine’s hand reaches out, as if he isn’t sure what to do with it, and then he reaches back, grabbing Kurt’s thigh and latching on. His ass pushes back and presses into Kurt, and Kurt realizes that Blaine can feel him, hard against his ass. At least he is pretty sure he can. He wants to ask him, he wants to know, but he can’t form any words. A second later Blaine is gone, sliding off the couch on to the floor, and Kurt is gasping for breath, his head spinning.

A few moments go by, and he leans over the edge of the couch. Blaine has righted himself, but his face is buried in his hands. Kurt wills himself to say something, anything, but all he does is reach out and pet Blaine’s shoulder. This seems to be enough for the moment, as Blaine looks up with a shaky smile, and gives Kurt a quick kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. Kurt drags himself off the couch and goes to make some popcorn, adjusting himself in his too-tight pants and wishing he could read Blaine’s mind. Did he come, like Kurt had that night at Puck’s? Did he do that to Blaine, just by kissing him and touching him like that? Or did Kurt do something wrong - too much, not enough? Did he scare him away?

A few minutes later, back on the couch, the bowl of popcorn between them, Kurt is spending more time looking at Blaine than at the movie. He looks happy, he thinks. He doesn’t seem upset. Later they kiss goodnight, Blaine leaning up against his car and Kurt wrapped around him. Blaine snuggles in tight, his cold nose pressing against Kurt’s neck. “I had a good time tonight,” Blaine says, his voice pitched a little lower than usual, his hip bumping against Kurt’s just a bit.

“Me too,” Kurt sighs out, relieved. “Good movie?” he asks with a wry smile, pulling back to see Blaine’s face.

“The best,” Blaine nods. “Not that I remember any of it.” Blaine meets his eyes, and Kurt beams, giving him a final quick kiss and pushing him into his car. This stuff that they’re doing together - Blaine likes it. Blaine likes it, and Kurt most definitely likes it. If only he could be sure of what “it” was, but that seems secondary at the moment. Because whether he meant to or not, he’s pretty sure he gave his boyfriend an orgasm tonight, and ridiculous as it sounds in his own head, he’s pretty damn proud of himself.

Kurt’s confidence wanes, however, over the next few days. Blaine is his regular cheerful self. He doesn’t seem any different – should he seem different? He certainly isn’t mad, though, and after a while, things just seem normal again.


They have a date planned for Friday night, but that day at school drags on forever. By lunchtime, Kurt can tell that Blaine is distracted. He almost seems nervous. When Kurt comes up behind him at Glee and touches his shoulder Blaine practically jumps out of his skin. Kurt has an odd feeling in his stomach, but tries to concentrate on what Mr. Schue is saying, and whatever craziness Rachel is peddling.

Blaine picks Kurt up that night, in his father’s Prius, and they head off to a new burger place for dinner. Blaine seems to have returned to his normal self, and they keep busy during the meal brainstorming ways to derail Rachel’s misguided plans, the best of which involves Blaine getting one of the Warblers to impersonate a talent scout and plant the seed for a less Streisand-based set list.

Back in the car after dinner, they are almost to the movie theater when Blaine pulls over. He is staring out the window, lips pressed together, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Blaine? You okay?” The odd feeling in his stomach is back, and Kurt has a sudden flash of fear. What if what they did last time was weird? What if Blaine was disgusted, and wants to break up with him? What if –

“Doyouwanttomakeoutinstead?” Blaine blurts out, looking straight at Kurt now, shoulders tense.

“What?” Kurt can’t process Blaine’s words, if they even were words.

Blaine takes a deep breath, and laughs shyly to himself. “I’m sorry, I’m being…” He holds a hand out towards Kurt, palm up, and Kurt takes it, calming when Blaine gives it a gentle squeeze. “What I’m trying to ask is whether you’d rather just hang out than go sit in a crowded movie theater for the next two hours.”

Hang out?” Kurt asks primly, now noticing Blaine’s revised phrasing.

“Fine, make out. I said make out.” Blaine is blushing furiously, but he soldiers on. “My parents aren’t going to be home for hours, and, well…” He looks helplessly at Kurt, his golden eyes glinting in the headlights of a passing car.

Kurt smiles. “Yes.”


“Yes, let’s go to your house.”

It helps, Kurt thinks, to have actually said the words. He’s not sure Blaine has ever explicitly asked him if he wants to “make out” before. He knows he hasn’t ever said it. It seems silly, really, since they’ve done it dozens of times, but the words are hard. It’s easier just to let things happen. It’s not as if they have had many opportunities, even though they have been dating for months. Between school, and homework, and parents, and Finn, and the ever-present fear of being harassed (or worse) if they dare to touch out in public, their times alone are far and few between. They don’t kiss at school, or in movie theaters, like their straight friends do all the time. They just can’t.

But they haven’t really talked about that, either. Despite Blaine’s apparent ease about sex before they were dating, he hasn’t said a word about it since they got together. Neither has Kurt. Sure, back when Burt gave Kurt the “you matter” talk they had a good laugh about it, both agreeing that they would of course want to wait for the right moment, with the right person, Kurt silently praying to himself that someday Blaine would be that right person. But that was then, before frantic kissing and heavy breathing and heated touches became Kurt’s very welcome reality.

They are wandering around Blaine’s kitchen, Blaine mumbling something about juice boxes, when Kurt moves in, pushing Blaine against the counter and winding his arms around his neck. “I thought you said you wanted to make out,” he says in what he hopes is a sultry tone, nosing up against Blaine’s cheek.

“Kurt,” Blaine breathes out, and dives in for a kiss. Kurt had intended to follow up his brazen declaration with a question, asking something straightforward and adult like “what did you mean by that?” which would then lead to an open, heartfelt conversation about what he’d like to do to Blaine, and what he’d like Blaine to do to him. But as soon as Blaine’s mouth is on his, his very rational plans all fly right out of his head.


Kurt had told himself that they would never get too involved in a car, it was just too dangerous. But it’s been a long day, and he and Blaine hadn’t really been intimate in almost two weeks, their schedules just too full and their parents just too present. Tonight they had gone to see the Warblers perform at a fundraiser, and towards the end Trent pulled Blaine up to sing with them, Blaine reprising Teenage Dream while Kurt practically swooned, the memory of then and the reality of now combining in an overwhelming rush.

And now they’re in the back seat of his Navigator, parked in a dark spot on a side street, and they’re getting carried away. Kurt knows it, and he knows they should slow down, or cool off, or something, but he really doesn’t want to. He wants the build up and the release, and he wants to hear Blaine make those delicious noises again. He can’t seem to remember why they are denying themselves this.

Their suit jackets are off, and Kurt is unbuttoning Blaine’s crisp white button-down, grunting with annoyance when he realizes Blaine has a t-shirt on underneath. He pushes Blaine down against the seat and hovers over him, meeting Blaine’s eyes as they both still for a moment.

“Kurt?” Blaine asks, blinking, one hand grasping at Kurt’s hip, the other braced for balance against the back of the passenger seat. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Kurt replies, squeezing his eyes shut, wishing he could just know if Blaine wanted what he wanted, wishing Blaine could read his mind. “I just want…”

Blaine shifts a little, bumping Kurt’s knee until they are rearranged, Kurt’s legs between Blaine’s on the seat. He catches Kurt’s gaze, questioning, and runs his hand around to the small of his back, fingers touching Kurt’s heated skin where his shirt has ridden up. Blaine rests his hand there, then pushes, just a fraction. “Like this?” he whispers, holding still, waiting for a response from Kurt.

Kurt nods, and then he is sliding down against Blaine, both of them stunned for a moment as they are pressed together, right there,, and Blaine is kissing up Kurt’s neck, and Kurt finds his lips, and everything is heat, and friction, and Kurt can’t imagine anything better. Blaine’s hand is cupping Kurt’s ass, and he is panting into Kurt’s ear, kissing eventually forgotten as neither of them is able to do more than rut against each other, but it feels so very, very good.

Kurt feels it building, feels his body tensing. “Blaine, I’m, I’m…”

“Me too,” Blaine pants out, both hands clutching at Kurt now, one leg almost wrapped around Kurt’s hip, Blaine dangerously close to sliding right off the seat. This time when Kurt comes he is sure Blaine knows it, as he lets out a moan that he honestly cannot believe has come from his own throat. Blaine follows soon after with a similarly wanton sound.

“Oh my god, Blaine,” Kurt finally gets out, when he is able to breathe again. “I’m sorry, I mean, I hope-“

“It’s okay,” Blaine twists, pulling an arm out from where it had gotten trapped against the seat and pushing Kurt’s bangs off his face with a tender sigh. “It’s good. Really good. Awesome.”



Driving home that night after dropping Blaine off, Kurt can’t stop smiling. Sure, the sticky mess in his pants is not comfortable, and he isn’t looking forward to trying to get upstairs without having his dad notice anything unusual, but still, he can’t stop smiling.


Another Glee party rolls around, and this time there is punch, spiked with actual alcohol. Kurt downs a large glass before he realizes it’s really more alcohol than punch, and soon afterwards, he’s got Blaine backed up against a wall, grinding against him and kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.

Startled out of his haze when Santana slaps him on the ass, he pulls back to see Blaine’s pupils shot, his lips swollen and his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “Damn, Kurt,” Blaine whispers, voice low and shaky.

“Take me home?” Kurt doesn’t care that the party isn’t even halfway over, he just wants more of his boyfriend’s skin, more of his amazing mouth.

Blaine drove tonight so they dash into the Prius, and before they near Kurt’s house Kurt is tugging on his sleeve, leaning into his space, and they pull over, falling over themselves to get into the back seat. Kurt is aware that the alcohol isn’t really making him do this, but somehow it loosens him just enough that one little layer of self-consciousness has slipped away. They’re writhing against each other on the back seat, shirts finally off and sweaty skin pressed together, when Kurt works his hand down to Blaine’s belt buckle. “Can I?” he asks, giving it a bold tug.

Blaine nods, speechless, and thankfully Kurt’s motor functions don’t seem to be impaired, as he gets Blaine’s belt off and his pants undone, Blaine hovering above him with a look of intense concentration on his face. Blaine gasps as Kurt unzips his pants, and nearly falls down on to Kurt as Kurt reaches down and palms him through his briefs. “Kurt, oh, shit, Kurt…” Blaine is babbling now, and Kurt hardly knows what he’s doing, but he keeps stroking Blaine, and sooner than either one of them could have predicted it’s over, Blaine gasping against Kurt’s chest. Kurt’s arm trapped is between them, pressing awkwardly against Kurt’s own erection, a situation Blaine figures out fairly quickly as he rises up, planting breathless kisses on Kurt’s chest and pulling his hand up to kiss that too, apparently unconcerned about the mess.

“Can I, um, you?” Blaine waves vaguely towards Kurt’s pants, and then he’s sitting back on his knees, undoing Kurt’s zipper and slipping his hand inside his briefs. From there Kurt is hardly aware of anything except the feel of Blaine’s hand on him, touching him there, and he comes almost instantly with Blaine’s name on his lips. He spaces out as Blaine wipes him up with his discarded tank top and tucks him in, zipping his pants up again and leaning down to nuzzle against his neck.

“Cars should have bigger back seats,” Blaine says, struggling not to fall off as they rearrange themselves, and Kurt turns on his side, face right up against Blaine’s.

“Environmental friendliness is overrated.” Kurt replies. But back seat sex – or whatever it is – is definitely okay.


From there, it becomes a pattern. While the Navigator has more room, the Prius is less noticeable, so they wind up in the tiny Prius just as often, parking near one or the other’s house about an hour before curfew, no matter where they may have been that night. They each keep supplies in their cars – a box of wet wipes, a spare shirt, a pair of briefs – never thinking that a parent might spy the bag and find it odd. After five or six times, they hardly even think twice about sticking their hands down each other’s pants, fumbling in the dark with their wrists at awkward angles. It feels awesome, every time, even when it happens so fast they blush with embarrassment.

Kurt knows that this is what his father meant when he said that once he started doing it, he wouldn’t want to stop. But he and Blaine are fine. They may not be talking about what they’re doing, but they’re both happy. At least, Kurt is pretty sure Blaine is happy, and he knows he is, even if he still wishes he could read Blaine’s mind – and vice versa.

One night they’re in the Navigator, flushed and hot with arousal, and Blaine is having a hard time with Kurt’s pants. They’re laced up, maybe even knotted, and he can’t get them open with one hand. Blaine slides on to the floor, tugging Kurt’s legs toward him, and goes to work with both hands on the ties, his knuckles brushing against Kurt’s erection as he pushes the laces back and forth. Kurt gasps and Blaine looks up at him, eyes wide and dark, and then leans back down, studying the knot that is impeding his progress, and suddenly Kurt can hardly breathe, and not in a good way. “Wait - no, stop.” The words are out of his mouth before he can even understand what he’s feeling.

“What?” Blaine immediately pulls his hands away, and looks up at Kurt, confused.

“I don’t, it’s just,” Kurt slides to the other side of the car, pulling his knees to his chest, his heart racing. “I’m just not…” he trails off, lost.

Blaine pulls himself up off the floor, sitting tightly on the seat, with as much space as he can put between himself and Kurt. “Kurt? What’s wrong?” He looks worried, scared, and Kurt doesn’t know what to say.

“Nothing, it’s okay, I just…” Crap. “I need to go home now. I forgot, I, uh, I told my dad...”

“Told your dad what?” Blaine’s voice is breaking.

“That I’d be home earlier.” Kurt scrambles into the front seat, and starts driving before Blaine has even climbed over and buckled in.

When they get to Blaine’s house, Kurt pulls into the driveway, staring straight ahead and gripping the wheel tightly. Blaine leans towards him, slowly, and puts a hand over Kurt’s. Kurt closes his eyes, begging himself not to cry. “I love you,” Blaine says quietly, and touches Kurt’s cheek gently before he slips out of the car and jogs to his front door.

The next day is a blur. It’s a Saturday, and Kurt uncharacteristically volunteers to help his dad in the shop. He doesn’t usually like to give up precious weekend time with Blaine, but today he needs something to keep his hands busy and his mind off the disaster of the previous night. He knows what he was thinking, he knows why he got scared, but he just doesn’t know what to do about it. And he is overwhelmingly embarrassed.

By Sunday Kurt has worked himself into a panic. He has to say something to Blaine, he just doesn’t know what. Blaine looked so sad, so confused, and he needs to let him know it’s okay. But Blaine is going to want to know what went wrong, because something clearly did. He sends Blaine a quick text, asking if he’s going to the Glee dance rehearsal this afternoon – he knows he is, of course, but he can’t think of anything else to talk about. When Blaine replies of course, followed immediately by an expected “are you okay?” Kurt replies only “yes, talk more later?” to which Blaine can only agree.

But “later” doesn’t really happen. After rehearsal they go out for ice cream with most of the Glee kids, and Kurt pulls Mercedes into a booth next to him, leaving Blaine to sit on the other side with Tina and Mike. He sees Blaine slip into “Dalton boy” mode, charming Tina with ideas for her next Glee song, and laughing with Mike about some comic book thing. Soon Blaine is leaving with Artie and Mike, waving to Kurt, his determined smile unable to hide the hurt in his eyes.

Later that night, Kurt is curled up in his bed, his phone next to him on the pillow. He wants nothing more than to call Blaine and go through their nightly ritual of gossip and skincare, but he can’t press the button. Finally he resorts to text (coward, he tells himself).

From Kurt: I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk.

Blaine doesn’t answer immediately, and Kurt figures he doesn’t really deserve an immediate answer. But as the minutes tick by, he gets more and more worried.

From Kurt: I’m sorry about everything. I want to explain. Please answer.

Twenty torturous minutes later, Blaine finally replies.

From Blaine: I was in the shower.

If Kurt didn’t feel like a total idiot before, he does now.

From Kurt: Oh. I’m sorry.

Because it can’t hurt to say that again, right? Although he’s got to say something else, too, he knows he does.

From Blaine: Just please tell me what I did wrong.

From Kurt: You didn’t do anything wrong.

Kurt’s phone rings. It’s Blaine, of course.

“Kurt, please. Tell me what’s going on. How can I not have done anything wrong? You stopped me, and you’ve been avoiding me… you wouldn’t even say good night, or…” Blaine sounds like he’s been crying, and it hurts his heart. He’s being a terrible boyfriend, and he’s hurting Blaine. Kurt didn’t even say “I love you” back to him Friday night. What’s wrong with him?

“I’m sorry, I really am. But it’s hard for me to talk about. We never talk about this… stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“You know.” Please, Blaine, read my mind this time.

“Sex stuff?” Thank god, he did it. “Kurt, you can say the word, you know.”

“Is it even, though? Is that what it is?” Kurt doesn’t mean to veer off on a tangent, but in his current state he is having trouble focusing.

“Do you mean have we been having sex?” Blaine sighs. “I guess it’s true what they say.”

“What?” Kurt’s not sure he wants to hear the answer, given the tone in Blaine’s voice.

“That if you can’t say the word, you’re not ready.”

“You think I’m not ready?” Kurt figures he deserves that, but it still stings.

Blaine is angry now, his voice rising. “I don’t know, Kurt, you tell me. Just tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kurt is almost crying now, curled up into a ball, holding the phone tight. “It’s just so stupid, and I made a complete fool out of myself, and you’re never going to want to do anything with me again.”

“Kurt.” Kurt can hear Blaine breathing deeply, trying to calm himself down. Blaine doesn’t like to fight. He gets mad at himself for even raising his voice. “Don’t cry. Please. You know that’s never going to happen. I love you. But you have to tell me what got you so upset.”

Kurt finds a tissue and scrubs his face, pressing his hand against his eyes. “I love you too.”

Blaine sighs, and waits. Kurt sniffles.

“Was it something I did?” Blaine asks, still obviously concerned.

“No. Well, almost.”

“Almost?” Blaine is getting frustrated again, and Kurt doesn’t blame him. It’s now or never.

“The way you were sitting, kneeling on the floor like that, your face was so close to my… I was afraid you were going to put your mouth on me. And I wasn’t… prepared.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Blaine?”

“Sorry, I, um, am having… reactions… that aren’t exactly appropriate to the tenor of this conversation.”

Kurt laughs then, and the words just burst out of him like the floodgates have finally broken. “Blaine Anderson, are you getting turned on by me telling you I was nervous about getting a blowjob?”

“Ha! You said it!” Blaine shouts, triumphant. “And, well, yes. I’m pretty sure anything you say that even implies that a blowjob is being considered would turn me on.”

Kurt cackles, and Blaine does too, and this goes on for a while, until Kurt finally wipes his face one more time and picks his phone back up. “I really am sorry. I don’t know why I got so scared. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“It’s okay.” Blaine sniffs, still working on suppressing his giggles. “But you could have just told me, you know. And I wasn’t planning on giving you a blow job, I was just having a really hard time with your ridiculous pants.”

“I know. And it’s not as if I don’t ever want that – I do.”

“You do?”

Kurt feels his throat start to close up – was he not supposed to want it?

“I mean, I’d love to do that for you,” Blaine continues, “I really would, sometime, if you wanted me to.”

“You would?” Kurt is still pretty uncertain about why anyone would want to put their mouth there on him, but he is willing to give it a try. For science.

“I would.”

“Oh.” Somehow this makes Kurt irrationally happy. And turned on, because as previously discussed, apparently just the thought of blowjobs is helplessly arousing to them. “I’d like to do it to you, too. Sometime.”



Kurt hears Blaine shuffling around, and what sounds like the click of his door.



“What are you doing?”

Blaine huffs out a laugh, and when he replies, his voice is low. “I think we’ve discovered we need to talk more about sex.”

Kurt can feel his face flushing, but Blaine isn’t wrong. “Okay, yes.”

“And I didn’t want my mom coming in to say good night while we were on the phone.”


“No. Because I think it’s going to be a good talk…”

“Oh my god, Blaine, you can’t be serious.”

Blaine chuckles, but he isn’t at all giving up. “Or we could wait until we’re together to talk about it. At lunch tomorrow, maybe. When we’re in line, waiting to see what variation of wilted salad will be served. Or at the table, when Rachel starts to tell us about her new vocal warmups…”

Kurt isn’t sure how Blaine talking about the McKinley cafeteria can be turning him on, but it is. “Blaine, stop it. I think you’re confusing phone sex with talking on the phone about sex.”

“Ha! You said sex – twice!”

“You are a child.”

“A very happy child, with a very sexy boyfriend.”

“Okay, now you’re making me sound like a criminal.” But Kurt is laughing, they’re actually talking about sex, sort of, at least, and he isn’t incapacitated by nerves. He’s actually enjoying himself.

“You’re not a criminal, baby. Except that you’re criminally sexy…”

“All right, all right, enough of that.” Kurt can’t say that he minds Blaine’s compliments, silly as they are, but they need to not get distracted. “What should we talk about?”

Blaine takes a deep breath, apparently trying to focus on the more serious aspect of the conversation. “Well, you’ve told me something you’re not ready for. And that’s good, that’s fine.”


“Of course. I would never want to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.” Blaine pauses. “And I think it will take some of the pressure off.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when we’re fooling around, or whatever, I’m always trying to make sure I don’t do the wrong thing.”

Kurt immediately nods in response even though Blaine can’t see him. “Me too.”

“It’s probably good to know in advance, if there are things we want to do, or don’t want to do,” Blaine says.

“Definitely.” Kurt takes a deep breath. “Although, it’s kind of exciting, wondering what you’re going to do next, you know?” He holds his breath, hardly believing he is having this conversation.

He hears Blaine’s sharp intake of breath over the phone. “Yeah, I know. It is.”

There’s a moment of silence while they both ponder this thought, then Blaine is back on track. “I haven’t done anything that’s made you uncomfortable, have I?”

“No, nothing, not ever,” Kurt replies. “Nervous, maybe, but in a good way. And I promise, if it ever happens, I’ll tell you right away.” Kurt hears Blaine’s sigh of relief. “Have I ever, uh, gone too far?”

There’s silence for a minute, then Blaine begins, hesitantly. “Not exactly. But that time after the party, with the punch? I was worried that you were drunk. Not that it was a problem, what you were doing, but that you might regret it after. And I didn’t stop you, or ask if you were okay, and I felt bad about that.”

Kurt bites his lip, remembering that night. “I wasn’t that drunk. I knew what I was doing. But I can see how you would worry about that. And, Blaine?”


“That night was awesome. That was the first time we touched each other’s… it was all good. No regrets.”

“Just love?” Blaine says softly. “Good, I’m glad.”

“Next time, maybe, we’ll say something, if one of us is worried about something like that?” Kurt suggests.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Because now we’re not afraid to talk about sssssexxxxx,” Kurt says, hoping to lighten the mood.

It works, apparently, as he succeeds in cajoling a laugh out of Blaine. “Exactly. No more sex-talk-phobia.”

“On that note,” Kurt breaks off, checking the time. “I really hate to say this, and I promise I’m not trying to get out of talking more, but…”

“It’s after midnight, and you need your beauty rest.”

“I do.”

“And you’re trying to get out of talking more.”

“Maybe a little.”

Blaine laughs again, easy and relaxed. “Fine. I haven’t finished my history reading yet-“


“What? Not all of us need seven hours of sleep to look gorgeous.”


Everything is better after their talk. The sky is brighter, the air is cleaner, and Mr. Schue seems less offensive. Better yet, there is something in Blaine's eyes that just causes Kurt's heart (and other less mentionable parts) to throb. It's a twinkle, a flutter of his eyelashes, a subtle signal that the two of them have something, well, sexy going on.

Although they hadn't yet been able to continue their talk, Kurt knows what he wants to say next. In fact, he’s thought about it late into the night - late into several nights - trying to put his desires into words that he could actually say. Kurt wants something more than back-seat gymnastics and sore wrists shoved into underwear. The problem is that even if he manages to spit it out, he isn’t sure how to pull it off.

Fortune smiles upon him, however, in the form of a gala in Washington that Kurt convinces Carole she simply cannot miss. Being the wife of a congressperson has some perks, after all, and finally the plans are made and Burt and Carole head off for a four day weekend together in the nation's capitol. The Finn problem is easily handled, as Kurt subtly (and then not so subtly) points out the benefits to them both of an unsupervised weekend, and a trade-off of days in the house is quickly arranged. Blaine gets permission to sleep over Puck's with Finn, but makes his apologies to Puck's mom before they even have dinner, and heads over to Kurt's. The stage is set, at last.

Kurt greets Blaine at the door with a kiss and a shy smile, and leads him upstairs before he even has a chance to take off his shoes. They sit cross-legged on the bed and Blaine smiles at Kurt, warmer than the sun on an August afternoon.

"What?" Kurt asks, jiggling his toes against Blaine's thigh.

"You look very proud of yourself," Blaine says.

"I am."

"Something you want to talk about?"

"Yes, actually." Kurt squirms a little, smoothing his hands over his bedspread. Now that the moment has come, however, actual English words have abandoned him.

"Come here." Blaine lays down with his head on a pillow, and tugs Kurt against him, their hands twined together between them. "Tell me what you want."

Kurt takes a deep breath, smelling Blaine’s aftershave fresh on his skin. Here goes. "I want to be in bed with you."

"We are in bed."

Kurt kicks Blaine halfheartedly. "Jerk."

"Sorry." Blaine turns, and Kurt could see the specks of gold in his caramel colored eyes. "What else, besides bed?"

"Naked." There. He said it.

Blaine blushes. This is not surprising.

"I mean, we always have clothes on, and I just want to..." Kurt trails off.

"Feel?” Blaine suggests, his eyelashes fluttering.


"Okay." Blaine sits up and starts to take off his cardigan.

"Wait, now?"

"Not now?" The look on Blaine’s face is priceless, especially with his sweater hanging partway off his shoulders.

"Of course not now, it's not even dark out." Kurt realizes how besides the point this is as soon as he says it, but thankfully Blaine takes pity on him and lets it slide.

"And we haven't had dinner,” Blaine adds.


After an admittedly speedy meal of chicken breasts and broccoli, Blaine comes up behind Kurt as he is drying the dishes. Blaine places a lingering kiss to the side of Kurt's neck, just under his ear, and Kurt could swear it sends a jolt straight to his cock. "Now?" Blaine asks, and takes Kurt's hand to lead him to his room. They separate at the top of the stairs, Kurt to one bathroom and Blaine to another, and when Kurt returns to his room Blaine is already in his bed, the duvet pushed down and the sheet pulled up to his chin. Blaine's hair is wet and curly from his shower, and he's grinning like a madman. Kurt can feel himself blush all the way down under his silk robe, and he tugs nervously on the belt, firmly tied around his waist.

Kurt closes the bedroom door, even though no one is at home, and turns back to Blaine. "Are you already...?"

Blaine smirks and props himself up a little, letting the sheet slide down his naked chest. "Yup. You going to join me?"

Kurt switches off the light and sits down at the edge of the bed, wondering how to go about this. Blaine is already under the covers, he's got an unfair advantage.

Sensing his hesitation, Blaine scoots over and places a gentle hand on Kurt's shoulder, his fingers stroking against the silk. "It's okay. There's no rush." He puts a finger on Kurt's chin and turns his face until they are looking at each other, hazy in the dim light coming in through the curtains. "We've got plenty of time. We can do whatever we want."

Kurt nods a thank you and rests a hand on Blaine's bare shoulder, sliding it down his arm and back up again. Blaine's skin is glowing in the moonlight. "You're beautiful," he says softly, because really, in this moment, there's just nothing else he can say.

Blaine tilts his head down and away, then presses in for a sweet kiss. "So are you." He shifts back towards the middle of the bed, and reaches out a hand. "Come on, lie down with me. Leave that on for now. It feels nice."

Kurt follows Blaine's lead, mentally berating himself for chickening out so fast, when getting naked together had been his idea in the first place. But Blaine truly doesn't seem to mind, propping himself up on one elbow and tracing the lines of Kurt's robe where the collar leans up against his neck, and down across his chest. Blaine is still mostly under the sheet, but Kurt's still on top of it, so Kurt moves and wiggles until he is under the sheet too, careful not to uncover Blaine in the process. Kurt keeps a deliberate space between them - it doesn't seem right to get too close, yet, when Blaine is naked and he isn't.

Blaine retraces the steps his fingers have taken with his lips now, kissing a path down from Kurt's neck, sliding the robe aside to kiss Kurt's chest. He doesn't go down very far, though, and doesn't touch his nipples, keeping it all rather tame. Kurt is beginning to heat up, however, and is starting to think that this was a very good idea after all. He wishes Blaine would do something more to him, be a little less gentle, but he doesn’t say anything. He tentatively flattens a hand against Blaine's side, and then moves it across the planes of his back, and then up over his chest. Kurt has touched him here before, but it was always in the car, squeezed in tight in the back seat, hurried and frantic. Their arms bump into each other as they touch, and Blaine smiles and moves his hand up into Kurt's hair, giving Kurt more room to explore.

Kurt boldly begins to play with Blaine's nipples, wishing he had the courage to ask Blaine to do this to him, but hoping that showing him will get the point across. From the encouraging sounds Blaine is making, he definitely likes it. From Kurt’s own experimentation on himself at home, he’s pretty sure that he would, too.

Blaine falls off his elbow and on to his back, and just lies there for a minute, letting Kurt play. "Feels so good, Kurt," he murmurs, his words taking Kurt by surprise. Kurt leans down, kissing along Blaine's collarbone, and then chancing a lick across a reddening nipple. "Oh my god, Kurt," Blaine moans, eyes fluttering shut and his hand grasping at Kurt's robe. "Come closer, baby, please." Blaine’s words and the endearment are doing things to Kurt, and he wriggles closer, eager for more contact.

Blaine grabs Kurt's head and kisses him, hard and rough, opening his mouth and biting at Kurt's lower lip. Kurt is pressed against Blaine's chest, lying halfway on top of him, but the robe is caught in between them and this is precisely what Kurt was trying to avoid. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, my ridiculously sexy boyfriend is lying here underneath me about to orgasm just from me touching his chest, he's not going to change his mind about me just because I'm pale and skinny. Kurt sits up and peels off the robe, and then dives back down to attack Blaine's mouth. The feeling of Blaine all around him, hands caressing his back and shoulders, mouth against his, and sweaty body writhing underneath him, combine to bring Kurt to the edge in record time. When Blaine's hips surge up against him, the tangled sheet still stuck between them, Kurt explodes, and Blaine follows soon after.

It's quiet in Kurt's room as they come down, their heavy breathing the only sound. Blaine wipes them off and shuffles the sheet around, finally landing with his head on Kurt's chest, a relatively clean section of sheet draped over them. Blaine traces a heart on Kurt's skin - Kurt muzzily hopes there isn't actually enough come and sweat there to draw with - and sighs happily. "Kurt Hummel, you are amazing," he breathes out, snuggling closer.

"You're not too bad yourself," Kurt replies, pressing a kiss into Blaine's still damp hair.

Kurt is sure he is just about to fall asleep when Blaine speaks.

"So, we kind of did that in reverse. But we can do it now."

"What? Do what?" Kurt valiantly tries to get his brain to focus on anything besides the fact that Blaine is still lying there naked against him. Except that Blaine isn't actually lying there anymore, he's sitting up, the sheet pooled adorably around his waist, with a perky look on his face.

"Talk about it."

Kurt recognizes this perky look. It's the one Blaine wears when he's got a new project to work on or a team to inspire. Kurt is going to kill him. Or kill himself. He's created a monster.

"No, Blaine, no. We really don't."

Blaine is not deterred, although he does take it down a notch, switching from pep squad leader to concerned boyfriend. "We don't have to, but I really think we should. This didn't go exactly how you wanted it to, I could tell from how you were at the beginning. And I'm still not exactly sure I know what you wanted. If you don't tell me, I'll never know." Blaine lays back down next to Kurt, nosing up against his cheek. "And you caught me by surprise with some of the stuff you did."

Kurt blushes and hides his face in the pillow, but Blaine grabs him around the shoulders and plants a big sloppy kiss on the back of his neck. "No, no, don't be shy about that. It was awesome! Who knew licking me there would be such a turn-on -- I definitely didn't! But I never would have thought to try that on you, not if we didn't talk about it first, since you didn't want me to give you a blowjob. Not that it's the same, but-

"You said blowjob," Kurt mumbles into the pillow.

"I did? I guess I did. Blowjob, blowjob, blowjob," Blaine chants, keeping it up until Kurt starts to giggle.

"Fine, I'm convinced," Kurt says, flopping over to face Blaine again. "I’ll talk. At least, I’ll try.” He pauses. “Where should I start?"

"Well, what did you want from tonight?"

Kurt sighs. "I really just wanted us to be naked, in a bed. Nothing in the way. But then I got nervous."

"You don't have anything to be nervous about, baby," Blaine assures him, stroking a hand up and down his arm.

"Regardless, I was. But you made it okay." Kurt finds Blaine's eyes, wide and warm, and then kisses him softly. "Thank you."

"The pleasure was all mine."

"Such a gentleman," Kurt coos.

Blaine nods his acknowledgement. "All right, so we got the naked in the bed part," Blaine wiggles his body under the sheet, as if to emphasize his point. "What else did you want?"

Kurt frowns. "I didn't really think it through. Although I suppose I thought we would touch, you know..."

Blaine raises an eyebrow at Kurt, and waits.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "You know, touch each other down there. Just with hands, and our..." He waves a hand in the direction of Blaine's leg, feeling himself blush again.

"You mean like this?" Blaine's looking right at Kurt, and Kurt feels his hand find the small of his back, under the sheet, and then slide down over Kurt's hip, glide quickly over his ass, and rest on his hip again. He's still looking at Kurt, waiting for an answer, and Kurt nods.


"More than that?"

Feeling his heart speeding up, Kurt nods again, and Blaine pulls Kurt towards him until they are flush up against each other from their chests to their thighs, Blaine's knees nudging against Kurt's as they weave themselves together. "Like this?" Blaine's voice is breathier now. "Did you want us naked in bed together like this?"

Kurt is entranced, slowly rolling and sliding against Blaine, feeling Blaine touching him all the way from his hands curled around his neck straight down to his toes. He's half hard against him, and can feel Blaine too, hardening as they press together. "Yes, yes," he finally answers Blaine's question. "God, Blaine, I never could have imagined this."

Blaine is sliding his hand up and down, from Kurt's upper back down over his hip and thigh, back up to his waist. He does it again, this time pausing with his hand cupping Kurt's ass. "Kurt, is this okay?"

Kurt doesn't know why it wouldn't be, until suddenly he tenses, wondering if Blaine means there. They're so wrapped up in each other that Blaine can feel Kurt freeze, and he stops to rub his nose against Kurt's.

"Not in you, not even on your..." Kurt feels a pang of sympathy for Blaine as he struggles to say it, and jumps in to save him. Even in a sex talk, surely they don’t have to say everything.

"I get it, it's okay." He brings his arm down, slides his hand over Blaine's lovely ass and gives it a squeeze. "Yes, you can touch my butt," he whispers in Blaine's ear. "As long as I can touch yours."

Blaine presses against him in response, a leg moving around Kurt’s, and mumbles something that sounds like “hell, yes.”

The sheet catches between them again, and Kurt pauses for a moment, catching the edge of the sheet and pushing it down while Blaine pants against his neck. He’s learned his lesson, he thinks, and he can ask for what he wants, he can show Blaine. “Is this okay?”

Blaine gets the picture quickly. He pulls the sheet off and tosses it on to the floor, leaving them frighteningly, gloriously uncovered. He runs an appreciative hand from Kurt’s shoulder down to his thigh and back up again, grinning uncontrollably. “So okay.”

Things heat up pretty quickly after that, and before long they are both laying back against the pillows, sated and sweaty. Kurt knocks his hand out to the side, bumping it around until he finds Blaine's and curling a finger into his palm. "You know what?"


"We're really good at this."

"Mmm, I agree." Blaine rolls to his side, his hair sticking out in all directions. "Wait, you did mean the sex, right?"

"Yeah, silly. And the talking about sex part, too. We're getting good at that too." At this Blaine perks up and Kurt slaps a hand across Blaine’s mouth. "Oh no, no more talking about it tonight. The only thing we're talking about tonight is what kind of ice cream we're going to eat while we watch Moulin Rouge." Kurt waits for Blaine to nod in acknowledgment, and then squirms uncomfortably. "And also who has to sleep in the wet spot."


By the next morning, Kurt feels like a sex god. A tired, sore, sticky sex god who needs to do quite a bit of laundry and air out his bedroom, but he figures that all goes along with being a sex god. It isn't until later that night, when he's packing up his things to go spend the night at Blaine's and give Finn the empty house, that a thought occurs to him. He picks up his phone, and sends the kind of text that clearly only a sex god could send.

From Kurt: It's your turn tonight. Be prepared to tell me what you want.

From Santana: Wanky. But I don't think you're selling what I'm buying, lady face.

Kurt curses Finn for messing around with the contact list in his phone, and quickly types back, knowing that no matter what he says, he is screwed.

From Kurt: Get your mind out of the gutter, Santana. I just needed to know what Blaine wants for dinner.

From Santana: Sure, and I have a bridge in Brooklyn you can buy. Congrats, by the way. Your boy is hot, in his own surprisingly endearing way. It's about time.

Kurt slams his head against his desk and sighs, then calls Blaine to warn him.

At Blaine’s house that night, Kurt is relaxed, practically lulled into a coma by the mountains of food Blaine’s mom serves for dinner. Blaine’s parents were supposed to be out, but the couple they were meeting had to stay home with a sick kid, and so Blaine’s mom decided they would turn the evening into a family night. Kurt could hardly complain, given the number of Friday night dinners he had subjected Blaine to over the past year, and Blaine’s parents are usually good company. Tonight is no exception, as Blaine’s mom launches into a story about Cooper’s latest adventure, and then tosses in a few tidbits about Blaine’s childhood adoration of his older brother for good measure. Blaine turns a delightful shade of pink, and Kurt takes his hand under the table and gives it a squeeze. After dinner he will be sure to let Blaine know just how adorable he finds him.

Blaine’s dad suggests a game of cards after they clear the dishes, but Blaine’s mom gives him the side-eye and drags him upstairs, yelling back down to point out that there are brownies on the counter, and a new container of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Kurt scoops out the ice cream and the brownies into bowls, drizzling some caramel sauce over the top of each, and Blaine heats water for tea. They take their treats into the family room, and scroll through their movie options. After a while they get bored and decide to play cards after all. The presence of Blaine’s parents in the house and their chilling effect on any possible sexual shenanigans is actually a relief, in a way, after the intensity of last night. Kurt says as much to Blaine.

Blaine doesn’t immediately respond, and Kurt suddenly second-guesses himself, babbling that of course he didn’t mean he doesn’t like what they’ve been doing, it’s all been good, so good… and then Blaine is grabbing him around the waist and squeezing him so tightly he has to stop talking.

“Relax. I know.” Blaine bounces back down on the couch and beams at him. “And I agree. This is nice.” Blaine pokes Kurt’s bare foot where it is propped on the coffee table, making him squirm. “I love that we can have just as much fun together eating ice cream and playing cards as we can doing other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” Kurt asks, with a crooked smile. “Now who’s avoiding saying the words?”

“Sorry, my bad.” Blaine gives him a mischievous look. “I love that we can have fun doing things besides just making out and getting each other off.”

“Blaine! Your parents are right upstairs!” Kurt is blushing furiously, he knows it. “And that makes it sound so…”

Blaine looks down, abashed, then looks up and takes Kurt’s hand. “I know, I was just being dumb.” He scoots closer to Kurt on the couch, moving the ice cream bowls and cards out of the way, and pulls Kurt’s legs over his lap. “Being with you like we’ve been doing isn’t something to joke about. It’s wonderful, Kurt. It’s hard to believe. I never imagined I could feel so close to anyone, the way I do with you.”

Kurt’s mouth is dry, and he thinks that he could lose himself forever in Blaine’s lovely eyes. “You have an amazing way with words, Blaine Anderson,” he says softly.

They give up on playing cards and turn on the television, finding a re-run of Gray’s Anatomy to watch as background noise while they trade gentle kisses on the couch, Blaine dozing on Kurt’s shoulder as the night wears on. Kurt has one of Blaine’s hands between his. He traces patterns on his palm, and notes his neat, flat nail beds. Sometimes he thinks that if he could just have Blaine’s hand to hold forever, he wouldn’t need anything else.

Blaine’s mom comes downstairs and reminds them that they will be sleeping in the living room, and that they should get their sleeping bags set up before Blaine completely conks out for the night. Kurt isn’t sure what Blaine’s mom hopes to accomplish by making them sleep downstairs (Blaine’s bedroom is right next to his parents’, so frankly sleeping downstairs gives them more privacy, not less), but if it helps her conscience, it’s fine with him.

He rouses Blaine and pushes him off towards the bathroom, leaving Kurt to gather their ice cream bowls and rinse them in the sink. It’s pleasingly domestic, and Kurt thinks to himself, not for the first time, that he can imagine doing this with Blaine for many years to come, maybe in a tiny little apartment in New York City, for example. Although in that scenario they definitely wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor.

It’s not long before they are settled into their sleeping bags on Blaine’s living room floor, tucked into the space between the baby grand piano and the windows. The moon shines brightly outside and bathes them in silvery light. Kurt shuffles around, trying to get comfortable as he lies on his side to face Blaine, his hip digging into the floor. Blaine pushes himself up on an elbow and stares fondly at Kurt, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“Come here,” Blaine says, unzipping Kurt’s sleeping bag further and then tugging at his shoulder. “I’ll be your pillow.” Kurt complies, laying his head on Blaine’s chest and curling up against him. Blaine’s skin is warm under his cotton henley, but then Blaine is always warm. Kurt wonders idly if Blaine is meant to be the sun that melts his icy exterior, and chuckles to himself at the cheesiness of this thought.

“What’s so funny?” Blaine asks softly, nuzzling into Kurt’s hair.

“Nothing.” Kurt puts his hand around Blaine’s waist and snuggles closer. “Just happy.”

“Mmm. Me too.” Blaine has his hand around Kurt’s wrist, and rubs a finger gently over the bones there.

“The moon is pretty tonight,” Kurt comments.

“So are you.”

“Blaine…” Kurt doesn’t even know how to continue. He’s glad for the dim light, which he hopes hides the blush that this remark prompts.

“It’s true,” Blaine replies, shifting to look at Kurt with a careful gaze, apparently concerned by what he sees. “Should I not say it? I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Kurt grabs Blaine’s hand and squeezes it. “No, it’s fine – I mean, I like it when you say things like that. A lot. It’s just…”


“I’m not used to it. I’m still not used to it.” Being seen, being admired. Being loved.

“Well, you might as well get used to it.” Blaine presses a sweet kiss to Kurt’s lips, then pulls him into a hug, rocking back and forth on the floor until Kurt laughs.

“Fine. But you and your sweet-talking self have to let me go to sleep at some point. It’s late.”

“We can’t go to sleep yet.”

“No? Why not?” Kurt asks. “We’re not doing anything with your parents right upstairs. There’s not even a door…” Kurt feels his voice rising and just stops talking, giving Blaine a stern look.

Blaine isn’t deterred. “Because you said that tonight was my turn. To tell you what I want.”

Oh. Kurt feels a rush of excitement flow through him. “Okay, then.” Kurt swallows hard, his brain racing to catch up with this turn of events. “I guess it is your turn.” He catches Blaine’s eyes, and does his best to speak calmly. “It sounds like you’ve been doing some thinking.”

“I have,” Blaine replies.

Kurt can’t quite read Blaine’s expression, but he seems more relaxed than anything else, which in turn eases Kurt. He lets out a long breath, and then says in a lightly teasing voice, “Well, what do you want with me, Blaine Anderson?”

Blaine smiles and comes up on his knees, continuing to gaze into Kurt’s eyes. “What do I want with you?” Blaine puts a hand to Kurt’s cheek and gives him a soft, gentle kiss, then leans back, taking Kurt’s hand with him and holding it in both of his.

“I want lazy evenings watching movies on the couch. I want ice skating and hot chocolate. I want to sing with you – show tunes in the car, holiday duets for our friends, and private love song seranades. I want romantic dates at Breadstix, and slow dances at prom. I want breakfast in bed, lopsided pancakes and juicy strawberries, and cup after cup of coffee while we do our homework together in the kitchen.”

“Blaine…” Kurt breathes out softly. Would this boy ever stop surprising him?

Blaine shuffles closer, pulling Kurt up against him and draping his arms around his shoulders. “And someday, I want everything with you. I want blowjobs, of course, as discussed.” Blaine grins, and Kurt stifles a giggle. Blaine goes on, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I want to try it, you in me, and me in you. Your fingers in me, stretching me until I’m begging for more, until I’m ready. And I’d like to do it to you, too, if you want me to.”

Kurt knows he is blushing bright red, but he can’t take his eyes off of Blaine, who is looking at him as if he is the most wonderful thing in the world. “Yeah – yeah, I would. Not now, but…”


“Yeah,” Kurt nods. “We’ll try it. We’ll talk about it, see what we like.” Kurt squeezes his eyes together, fighting off a rush of self-consciousness, then peeks them back open, smiling shyly at Blaine. “But I can’t imagine not liking anything, as long as it’s with you.”

“Me too.” Blaine beams. “So we’ll do it all. Someday. When we’re both ready.” Blaine pulls at Kurt’s shoulder, clearly wanting him closer.

“Blaine, your parents…”

“Shhh, it’s okay, I just want to hold you. In fact, that’s the most important part of my answer - most of all, I always want to hold you.” Kurt melts into Blaine’s embrace, his head against Blaine’s curls as Blaine buries his face against his neck. Blaine is warmth, and shelter, and love. Kurt doesn’t know how he got here, he doesn’t know how he came to deserve this, but he can’t imagine any place he’d rather be.