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Exercises in Frustration

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When Finn came running in on Friday night, Kurt and Blaine knew it was time to break apart and Blaine's time to go home.

Kurt debated whether to warm enough milk for two, and then decided to wait twenty minutes before starting to heat it.

Sure enough, Finn came down in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie just as Kurt was sprinkling on the nutmeg.

He picked up his mug and said, a little sheepishly, "Don't worry, I washed my hands."

Kurt shook his head. "Thank you, Finn."

"I can't tell if you're actually getting some from Blaine, or if you do some kind of ninja jerk-off."

Kurt's eyes went wide. "None of your business."

Finn sighed. "I know it's nearly midnight, but I really want to go for a long run right now. Pound all the tension out."

"Is that better than cold showers? I've been using them to tighten my pores."

"Whatever you want to call it." Finn smirked and Kurt just rolled his eyes. "But, yeah," Finn continued, "Football practice and running and weight training are all good, better than cold showers in the winter, too. Puck and I go to school early on Tuesdays and Thursdays for weight training. You could join us."

Kurt took a sip of his warm milk and said, "Finn, I'm genuinely touched. I might even take you up on it."

"Bieste says we still need a decent kicker. You could really help the team."

"I need to really concentrate on things that will help me get into NYADA. I thought about Cheerios again, but, seriously, I just can't take Coach Sylvester in high doses."

Kurt started by joining Finn, and occasionally Puck, for their morning runs. He hated it, but he got Finn’s point about working his body to exhaustion helping with sexual frustration. He even started doing some weight training.

Then, since Mister Schue was putting him in Booty Camp, he decided to go to one of the local dance studios and start learning real techniques. The expense might mean his wardrobe was a little less fabulous, but it was also something to include on his NYADA applications.

At the end of five weeks he could do killer chest and hip isolations, but he felt like he wanted more. Yoga was great, but still not enough. Being around Blaine left him in a fuzzy haze of warmth and want even when they weren’t making out.

After his sixth week of Modern Dance class, Kurt walked past the large studio where the pre-teen girls usually took gymnastics and saw one of the instructors hanging from the ceiling by fabric. He could almost hear the music she was moving to as she extended and contracted her body, wrapping and releasing the smooth fabric.

He stood there transfixed until she shinned down and touched the floor. Kurt walked right up to her and said, “Can I learn that?”

The woman turned to him and held out her hand, “I’m Melinda.”


"As far as learning silks, I’m just renting the space from the studio once a week. I’d have to ask them about liabilities and stuff, but we maybe could work something out. It wouldn’t be cheap. If you have a couple of friends who could join you..."

Kurt nodded. He’d talk to Santana and Brittany tomorrow. He thought he’d be able to promote it as a Cheerios thing. “What’s the maximum number of people?”

Melinda calculated quickly. “If you can get five people, and the owners think we can cover the liability, then it could work. It would run about thirty dollars per person for an hour and a half lesson.”

He thought for a moment. It was more than twice as much as a standard dance class cost. Kurt looked at the flowing fabric and said, “Can I get your contact information? I’ll let you know by Friday.”

On Saturday morning, Brittany, Santana, Becky, and Mike Chang joined Kurt for the very first silks lesson. Melinda took them through a long workout and then showed them some basics before letting each of them take a shot on the apparatus.
It was tougher than it looked, but Kurt loved it in a way he’d never felt about a sport. The stretches were more profound than either dance or yoga, and it used his strength in a different way. Nothing was as good as making out with his boyfriend, but hanging suspended in silks and controlling his own movement, came close.

Just before Thanksgiving, Kurt left his car at the shop for its annual winterizing and Blaine drove him to the dance studio.

“I’m going to hit Barnes and Noble. I’ll bring you a skinny white chocolate mocha as a reward after class,” Blaine said.

Kurt glanced around the parking lot and pecked Blaine quickly on the lips before heading into the building.

Blaine smiled after him and decided to get him a slice of gingerbread, too.

Blaine tucked the things he’d bought in the car, including the slice of gingerbread they would share, and picked the coffees back up to surprise Kurt.

He stood at the edge of the room and watched Santana and Mike complete a routine. Blaine saw the appeal of the movements even if he didn’t want to be tipped upside-down himself. The two of them high-fived Becky who had apparently done hers first with the instructor because Kurt and Brittany were climbing up and beginning the routine he’d just seen Mike and Santana finish.

As he watched his boyfriend’s body move, his mouth went dry. Blaine could appreciate Mike’s appeal, but watching Kurt do those same moves was a completely different experience. Kurt manipulated the silk like he was born to do it. Mike on the ground was phenomenal, but Kurt seemed to thrive in the air.

When it ended, Brittany lowered herself to the ground, but Kurt asked the teacher to spot him while he tried something new. He seemed to flip down, holding himself steady in the fabric, sliding it into new patterns until he hung in a perfect arc, head an inch off the floor and legs posed precisely and elegantly before he flattened his body and then lowered his legs to the ground in a perfect pike.

Blaine was grateful when some of the coffee spilled on his hands so that he could pull himself together before they had to walk to the car.

Brittany grinned at him as she and Santana walked past. Mike raised an eyebrow quizzically, and Blaine wondered how much of his reaction was showing on his face.

Kurt finished talking to Melinda, and walked toward Blaine who shoved the coffee at Kurt abruptly.

He shifted his own coffee to the other hand so that he wouldn't risk touching Kurt. "There's gingerbread in the car," he said glancing quickly at his boyfriend before pressing the remote to unlock the doors.

Kurt grabbed the gingerbread off the seat, put his coffee in the cup holder and sat down. When the doors were closed, he asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Blaine, you won't even look at me."

"I…" Blaine took a deep breath and put his hands on the steering wheel. "Kurt, I'm afraid if I touch you … that was… you were so sensual."

"You're turned on?" Kurt could see Blaine's knuckles whiten as he gripped the wheel.

"I am so far beyond turned on… I wanted to climb you." He ventured a look at his boyfriend.

"Climb me?"

"I swear I didn't know whether I wanted to fuck you or ride you, and I know we aren't ready for that yet. We might not be ready by New Year's, but right now, I think I'd be ready by Thanksgiving."

Kurt smiled softly. "Thanksgiving is next week."

"I know."

"Oh." Kurt thought a moment.

"I like what we have. I like how we've gotten there. I know we may never… but right now, I want you so much."

"Definitely not Thanksgiving, but if we keep talking about it, maybe Chanukah."

Blaine chuckled and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He saw Kurt's hand outstretched and took it, bringing the palm to his lips for a soft kiss. "I swear I've never been hit like that before."

"I have. You weren't doing anything dramatic, not even jumping on furniture, but the light caught you and you smiled and I'd have done anything you asked." He split the slice of gingerbread between them, and took a sip of his coffee. "So may I ask?"

"Ask what?" Blaine said through a mouthful of cake.

"When you picture us," Kurt blushed, "fucking, how do you see it?"

Blaine took a sip of coffee. "I'd like to try it both ways. Like when I saw your routine, I thought at first that it would be amazing if you could hold yourself up while I, er…"


"But then, I wasn't joking when I said I wanted to climb you. I wanted to wrap my legs around your waist and, uh, ride you." He took another quick sip to cover his nerves.

"I like the sound of that." Kurt's voice had gone husky. "I mean, I'd like to try it both ways, too, but when I think about us and… that, I think about giving you every pleasure I can come up with and how good it would feel to be surrounded by you."

"Stop talking."


Blaine took a couple of deep breaths. "Your voice. When it gets like that… if we're going to spend the day together, I can't walk into your house with a come stain on my jeans. Your dad would kill me."

Kurt finished his last bite of gingerbread and took another swallow of coffee. "We just have to make through the afternoon. Dad's taking Carole out for a nice dinner and a movie and Finn said he's going to play video games with Puck. They'll be in the living room and we'll be in my bedroom…"

Blaine started the car and smiled at Kurt. "Can I watch you do yoga?"

"Maybe you could help."