Fic: Forward Pass (Klaine)
Title: Forward Pass
Author: Aelora
Rating: R
Word count: 11,719
Summary: It’s Kurt’s most dreaded time of the year--opening weekend of football season. Only this year, things are a little bit different. (Snippets of a weekend that Kurt and Blaine spend together, ie, this fic has absolutely no point whatsoever.)
A/N: This fic is for Dia, who wanted something fluffy to make the sting of junior!gate go away. I thank her for the inspiration for a fic that had stalled completely a week ago, and ended almost 12,000 words later. It’s sad to think this is the last time I will be writing these boys in the same grade. A moment of silence for the end of an era. ...........
Special thanks to my betas, Oddmeants (the Kurt to my Blaine) and WhenIDance (the Chris to my Darren), both of whom wonder how it is I can write smut for an RP and completely freeze up when it comes to fic. Yay for having cheerleaders!
Title note: For those who aren’t familiar with American football, a forward pass means throwing the ball so that it ends up further downfield than it started. It doesn’t necessarily have to be thrown in the direction of the opponent's goal, but it must advance the ball at least slightly down the field.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the rug, kid.”
Kurt rolls his eyes only a little at his dad’s comment before glancing down at his watch. Blaine will be arriving any moment to spend more than 24 hours with him. His boyfriend had slept over often throughout the summer, so much that Burt had begun teasing him he was going to start charging rent for the use of their couch. He hasn’t stayed over since school began two weeks ago, though, and even with Blaine at McKinley and getting to see each other every day once again, this weekend is a special treat.
Even if it means sitting through an ungodly amount of football, it also means spending that time with Blaine. And short of an all-expenses paid shopping spree of the latest McQueen fall collection, Kurt can’t think of anything he’d rather do.
When he hears the familiar sound of Blaine’s car (yes, he knows the sound by heart, and he doesn’t care who might judge him for it), he pulls open the door and hurries outside to greet Blaine as he opens the driver’s side door. There had been a time when Kurt had tried to play it cool, sitting on the staircase and listening as Blaine walked up the path to the front porch, and he’d count to three after Blaine knocked before allowing himself to answer. After all, he didn’t want to seem too attached.
But that was then, and this is now, and in one week they will be celebrating their sixth month anniversary, and Kurt just can’t bring himself to care if he appears too eager. He loves Blaine, and Blaine loves him, and if there were some problem with him swooping in to steal a kiss before Blaine can even get the door closed, well, then he damn well expects his boyfriend to say something. As it is, though, Blaine just laughs against his mouth and wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders, pulling him close as he whispers, “I missed you, too,” against Kurt’s lips.
And that’s why Kurt doesn’t wait anymore. Because he's not alone.
*************
It’s the opening weekend of the football season, which is apparently such a big deal between the most important men in Kurt’s life that they’ve planned an entire weekend around it. It’s cute, actually, even though Kurt has barely recovered from what was apparently pre-season-a month of games that never counted. He’s still slightly confused on that point. He’d sit there, watching the games with Blaine and Finn and his dad, and they’d jump up and scream and holler and shout profanities at coaches and refs (which they’d each always apologize for afterward), and then after each of their respective teams would lose the game, they would inevitably say “Oh, well. It’s only pre-season, so it doesn’t count anyway.”
Kurt has resigned himself to never understanding.
The worst of it is that he doesn’t even have an ally in the storm of sports-related testosterone that is destined to take over the household from now through January. Carole loves football, too. She perches on the armrest of the chair beside her husband, and cheers or rails right along with him. So no impromptu shopping trips together to get away from the madness, no much-needed escapes to the spa; he will sit there throughout the season beside his boyfriend, silently suffering internally while alternately being delighted at how easily Blaine has been accepted into the family. Kurt may roll his eyes when it happens, but he loves to watch his dad and Blaine high-five one another when the game goes the way they want, or Finn and Blaine grow so impatient during half-time that they have to put on a football video game in order to get through it.
So Sunday’s for the next five months are devoted to football, and Kurt’s fairly certain Blaine will spend most of them at his house, which he’s perfectly fine with. He’s sure there will come a moment when the games themselves will be too much for him, and he’ll have to escape-but knowing the boy he loves is sitting there with his family is quite enough to keep him smiling.
Kurt has his own conditions, though. Take this weekend, for example. Yes, Blaine can smother himself in all things football on Sunday with Kurt’s family. He can shout at the TV, eat horribly unhealthy snacks, and argue with Finn over names and stats that leave Kurt in awe as to how Finn struggles with subjects in school when he has so much useless information memorized. Tonight, though, Blaine belongs to Kurt.
They’re in his room, the door partly open, doing their homework together. This was part of Burt’s conditions-all homework for the upcoming week had to be done by Saturday night in order for Blaine to stay over. They’d agreed to do most of their homework earlier that day before Blaine came over, but they were in AP English together, and had an analysis on Taming of the Shrew to write, so they decided to work on that together.
“I have analyzed the shit out of Shakespeare,” Blaine announces from where his head is positioned at the foot of the bed. He rolls on to his side, leaning up on his elbow to stare up at Kurt who’s sitting with his back against the pillows at the headboard.
Kurt raises an eyebrow, smirking at him. “You don’t say? That’s quite a bit of analyzing.”
“You have no idea.” Blaine sighs, a wee bit dramatically, before reaching out to lay his hand over Kurt’s right foot, rubbing at it gently. “How about you? Almost done?”
“Mmmm. Close.” He closes his eyes at the feel of Blaine’s fingers moving over the ball of his foot. Shakespeare immediately forgotten. “It’s still a little surreal to me… you being at McKinley with me.” Kurt smiles as he says it.
“It’s still a little surreal to me,” Blaine replies, the bed shifting as he sits up and pulls Kurt’s feet into his lap to really begin massaging them. “Friday morning I passed Coach Sylvester in the hall. She called me Fozzy, and then proceeded to say how she hadn’t realized Muppets were being allowed into public schools and it was very progressive of the education system.”
Kurt’s eyes fly open and he’s honestly caught between laughter and outrage on behalf of his boyfriend. “What did you say?”
Blaine shrugs. “That I prefer Rolf.”
Kurt’s giggles erupt at that. “Oh, god. This is why I love you.”
“I’m still a little confused, though.” Blaine slides his fingers, thumbs rubbing hard into the arch of his left foot. “Why a Muppet? Be honest, Kurt. It’s the eyebrows, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I think it probably is.” Kurt lies on his side, twisting his feet slightly in Blaine’s lap and smiles at him. “I wouldn’t take it to heart, though. I think your eyebrows are beautiful.”
“And I think you’re slightly biased.”
Kurt moves his shoulders a little as if to say “Yeah, and?” and returning the smile that Blaine gives him. “So, it’s your turn to be honest,” he begins, tracing his fingers over the top of his duvet. “What did you think of your first official week at McKinley?”
“Hmmm. You mean once we got past the awkward attack by Finn in the choir room, and my first slushie incident?”
“Yes, aside from those. I mean, you have to admit, this last week was remarkably drama-free, all things being equal.”
Blaine blinks at him, all wide-eyed and adorable. “This week was drama-free?”
Kurt waves a hand. “You get used to it after a while. And you haven’t answered the question.”
“Oh. Well…” Blaine smiles, eyes twinkling just a little as he looks up from beneath his lashes over at Kurt. “I did get to spend the entire week driving to school with my boyfriend, eating lunch with my boyfriend, sitting in English and choir with my boyfriend, and returning home almost every day to do homework with my boyfriend. So all in all, the week has been pretty awesome.”
“Dork.” Kurt pushes a socked foot against Blaine’s belly. “Of course that part’s been awesome. I meant McKinley in general. Being back at public school. Being part of New Direction’s insanity.”
“Oh, you meant the stuff I’m actually supposed to share with my parents?” Blaine smiles. “Yeah, well, the coursework is ludicrous, the teachers are clueless and you are completely correct in mentioning your glee club’s insanity. But, I suppose it must all make me equally insane because I have actually found myself enjoying every bit of it. I mean, I miss the Warblers,” he admits quietly, dropping his gaze to his hands as he continues to move his fingers slowly over Kurt’s feet. “They had their own unique brand of insanity but… There’s a lot I’ve missed about public school.”
“Plus, you get to see your boyfriend in fabulous outfits,” Kurt points out, fluttering his lashes slightly.
“That, too,” Blaine agrees with another smile. “Although, and don’t hate me for saying this, but I always thought you looked adorable in your Dalton uniform.”
Kurt laughs, waving a hand at Blaine. “As did you. But I have to say, I’m kind of partial to seeing your ankles on an almost daily basis.”
Blaine raises an eyebrow, and extends a leg out from under him, twisting his bare foot around slightly. “I do have rather nice ankles, don’t I?” He asks, just barely suppressing his laughter.
“Oh, they’re very nice,” Kurt agrees, reaching out to brush his fingers lightly over the sharp bone, thumb lingering to caress in small circles. “I almost smacked Tina the other day when I caught her checking them out. I told her after choir, in no uncertain terms that your ankles belonged to me and me alone.”
His boyfriend giggles. “And what was her response to that?”
Kurt frowns just slightly, wrapping his hand around Blaine’s ankle possessively. “She asked if that meant she could claim your ass instead.”
Blaine burst into surprised laughter, clutching both of Kurt’s feet to him as he bends slightly at the waist with his mirth. “I love Tina. I can only imagine the conversation went downhill from there.”
Sighing at the memory, his cheeks warming slightly, Kurt admits, “I had to just give up and walk away after I made the mistake of saying your ass was mine. Tina wasn’t going to let that one go.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t blame her. I mean, you kind of walked right into that.”
“I didn’t mean to! I certainly didn’t mean it like,” he flails his hand slightly, “that.”
Blaine pokes his lower lip out in a pout and Kurt already knows what’s coming. “Are you saying you don’t want my ass, Kurt?”
“Oh! You!” Kurt straightens his legs with a slight shove, really only meaning to give Blaine a light punch to the stomach, but he uses more force than he means to, and with a squeal, Blaine goes tumbling backward off the bed.
Laughing, Kurt scrambles to the foot of the bed, looking down at Blaine, who is drumming his fingers over his chest, staring up at Kurt with something like disbelief. “You shoved me off the bed, Kurt.”
He bites his lip to keep from laughing. “I’m… sorry?” Kurt reaches his hand down. “Come back up here and I’ll apologize properly.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Kurt should have known long before Blaine takes his hand and gives a hard yank that he isn’t just going to get out of it with a simple apology. There’s a knock on the door and Carole pushes it open just as Kurt gives a shrill screech as he is pulled off the bed, landing in a sprawl, half over Blaine and the floor with a very loud thud. He barely catches his breath as Blaine’s fingers begin dancing over his sides, tickling him.
Dammit.
“Just thought I’d let the two of you know dinner’s ready,” Carole tells them, amusement in her tone.
“Thanks, Carole!” Kurt gasps between his laughter as Blaine rolls him over onto his back and straddles his hips, tickling him in earnest now. “Just gimme a-moment!”
“No food for him!” Blaine announces, leaning over Kurt with a leer as he digs into his ribs with the tips of his fingers and slides up under his arms-and crap, that’s where Kurt is most ticklish. He kicks his legs up in protest as Blaine continues, “He’s been a very, very bad boyfriend!”
“I didn’t mean it!” Kurt laughs, squirming with growing force beneath him.
“The hell is going up-Oh,” Burt Hummel’s voice enters the fray, and Kurt just barely glances a look over Blaine’s shoulder to see his dad standing beside Carole as they exchange a smile with one another. “The usual, I see.”
“Dad!” Kurt cries out. “Make him stop!”
“Sorry, kiddo. I learned long ago not to get involved in domestic disputes.”
His dad’s response just makes Kurt laugh harder.
“Guess we’ll just give Blaine’s burgers to Finn,” Carole says with a sigh.
“Wait. What? We’re having burgers?”
Blaine turns to look over his shoulder at Kurt’s parents, momentarily distracted by hearing that he might miss out on food, and Kurt takes advantage of the sneaky play by Carole to grab his boyfriend by the hips and throw him off to the floor. Before Blaine can move, Kurt reverses their positions, grabbing Blaine’s wrists and pinning his arms above his head.
“Aha!! I win!” Kurt exclaims in victory, grinning down at his boyfriend beneath him, who is pointing adorably at being outwitted by the Hudson-Hummel’s.
“That’s unfair! Carole cheated!”
“I was simply pointing out that you appeared far too busy to join us for dinner, Blaine,” Carole responds with a laugh. “Now let’s get downstairs before Finn eats all of the food and there’s nothing left for any of us.”
“We’ll be right there,” Kurt tells her, glancing over his shoulder to watch as his dad puts his arm around her waist and guides her out of the room, their voices low as they whisper to one another.
He looks back down at Blaine with his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and smiles as he rubs his thumbs over the back of Blaine’s wrists before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re a brat.”
“Who pushed who off the bed again?”
Kurt laughs as he rubs the tips of their noses together. “You know I didn’t mean to.”
“You pushed me with your stinky feet!”
“My feet aren’t stinky!”
“They so are!”
“Blaine!” Burt calls from downstairs. “Carole’s giving your food to Finn!”
“Awesome!” Finn exclaims.
“Shit! Get off me!” Blaine starts slapping at Kurt’s thighs, wiggling beneath him. “Carole makes, like, the best burgers ever! Get off!”
Laughing, Kurt gives him another kiss before climbing to his feet and reaching a hand down to him to help Blaine up. “Sometimes I think you love food more than me.”
“Sometimes you’re probably right.” Blaine smirks as he heads for the door.
“Brat!” Kurt calls out.
“Stinky feet!”
******************
“…So then the entire tent just collapses on top of him and Kurt’s sitting there with just like half of his head sticking out through the opening, this positively miserable look on his face and the clouds have opened up and it’s just pouring!”
Kurt sips at his iced tea as Blaine, Finn and Carole roar with laughter around him. He gives his dad one of his patented, long-suffering looks; the ‘Kurt goes camping for his first and last time ever’ story is one of Burt Hummel’s favorites to tell. He shares it at every holiday gathering. Kurt’s almost positive he told these exact people the same story during their 4th of July cook-out, though they’re all laughing as if they’ve never heard it before.
Setting his glass down, Kurt side-eyes his boyfriend where Blaine is sitting on his right. “Just try to convince me you’ve ever been any better at camping out.”
Blaine gets one of those smug expressions that Kurt has yet to determine if he finds incredibly adorable or incredibly annoying, and oh god, he knows what Blaine is going to say before he even speaks. “Actually, I was in Boy Scouts for a couple of years.”
“This is not entirely surprising,” Kurt mutters, rolling his eyes fondly as he allows a small smile.
“Dude, I can totally see you as a Boy Scout,” Finn comments from across the table as he reaches for his fourth cheeseburger.
“I’m not entirely certain I’d take that as a compliment, Blaine.” Kurt leans back in his seat, fingering his untouched knife at his place setting. Finn sticks his tongue out at him in an oh-so-mature manner as befitting his stepbrother, and Kurt just stares back at him until Finn concentrates solely on putting too much ketchup on his burger.
“Have something against Boy Scouts, Kurt?” Blaine teases with a wink.
Kurt just sighs and shakes his head at him.
The boys help clear the table and clean the dishes. Or rather, Kurt does the dishes while Blaine pretends to dry-but he’s been rubbing the towel over the same plate for the last ten minutes-and Finn is supposed to be putting leftovers away, but has been snacking on the sweet potato fries right out of the pan. They’re talking football, so Kurt doesn’t begrudge them their lack of help too much. It’s what the weekend is meant to be for them, after all, and to be honest, Kurt’s just pleased to see them getting along. Blaine’s transfer to McKinley hasn’t gone over as smoothly for everyone as Kurt had originally anticipated. He knows his stepbrother likes Blaine-they spent most of the summer playing flag football and video games together while Kurt worked on his musical. But Finn has always had problems when the things that matter to him appear to be threatened by outside factors. His place as leader in New Directions has always been fairly solid.
Until Blaine’s transfer.
And it’s difficult for Kurt not to feel pride over the fact that others recognize Blaine as a natural leader. He’s always seen it, from the moment he saw his interaction with the Warblers that first day Kurt went to spy on the group. Blaine denies it. He just wants to sing and perform and make people smile, and doesn’t seem to realize that it’s exactly his ability to make people smile that sets him up as a leader. Blaine bleeds charm, and honestly Kurt wouldn’t have it any other way. Especially considering Kurt highly doubts anyone would accuse him of having too much charm, and as a couple at least one of them should.
“I can’t believe you’re a New England fan. Don’t you think that’s kind of like cheating?”
Blaine leans against the sink top counter beside Kurt, their hips brushing together briefly. “No. My granddad’s a New England fan. So’s my brother. My father is the loser Cleveland fan-“
“Hey!” Finn sounds caught between laughter and insult. “If your Pats do anything this year, it’s just because they stole Ochocinco from us.”
“And if we don’t, you can have him back.”
Finn snorts and finally begins digging through the drawer for the plastic wrap. Kurt considers telling him not to bother because there’s maybe a handful of fries left but decides to let it go. When Carole goes to heat them up, she’ll know the culprit.
“Oh, I’ve gotten behind, haven’t I?” Blaine remarks quietly beside him and Kurt looks over to find him flashing an adorable, apologetic look.
“It’s all right.” Kurt leans in and bumps their shoulders together. “It’s nice just having you here.”
“And that’s my cue,” Finn groans, but he’s grinning with dimples when Kurt looks over his shoulder at him.
“Oh, yes, because having to listen to you and Rachel simper at one another all through glee is something the rest of us love suffering through,” Kurt comments, shutting off the faucet.
“We don’t simper.”
“Oh, Finn!” Blaine mimics suddenly, fluttering his eyelashes at Kurt as he grabs him by the arm and hangs on him. “You’re so big and strong! And when you sing classic rock tunes, I positively swoon in these cheap plastic chairs!”
“That’s nothing compared to seeing you in those tacky animal sweaters you wear, Rachel,” Kurt responds in his deepest register, giggling slightly as Blaine flails a dramatic hand against his forehead. “And those short little schoolgirl skirts-“
“I hate you both,” Finn mutters, snatching the towel quickly from Blaine and twisting it with a viciousness that causes Blaine’s eyes to widen in terror.
They both run screaming in opposite directions as Finn lunges at them with a crack of the towel. By Blaine’s yelp, Kurt realizes his boyfriend didn’t make it away fast enough.
******************
“I swear to god, this is the saddest moment in the history of any movie ever,” Kurt sniffs as sad-eyed Julia Roberts exits the clothing store on Rodeo Drive after the saleswoman told her to leave. “I mean, you walk in there, hands full of money, able to buy whatever you want-and this bitch won’t let you just because you’re a whore! I mean, it’s not as if she was in there singing about keeping toys in drawers or anything.”
Blaine shifts against him, craning his head back to blink up at Kurt in the light glow of the television. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Nope,” Kurt responds with a smile, bending his head to press a kiss to Blaine’s forehead. “When we’re old and gray and sitting around telling stories to our grandchildren, I will tell them all about the time I had to stand by-suffering silently, mind you-while their granddaddy sang his heart out to an older guy, in front of a store filled with strangers, about having sex.”
Kurt giggles as Blaine elbows him in the stomach. “You will do no such thing like tell our innocent grandbabies about that! Maybe when they’re older… married, or having kids of their own, or something.”
“Oh, god. Slow down there, sweetheart. I’m not ready to be a great grandfather just yet.”
Laughing, Blaine snuggles back against Kurt and returns his attention to Pretty Woman.
They’re lying together stretched out on the couch, Kurt pressed up against the back of the cushions, Blaine curled up like a smaller spoon against him, his head tucked up into Kurt’s shoulder. They’d each showered after dinner, changing into their pajamas with the intention of falling asleep while watching the movies they’d picked out. Or rather, Kurt had changed into pajamas; Blaine had changed into his usual flannel bottoms in OSU colors with a Buckeyes t-shirt his older brother, Braden, had given him last year for his birthday. Finn had joined them for their first movie, while Carole and Burt had stayed in the kitchen, playing cards at the table while they had coffee and chatted quietly. Sadly, Kurt had been outvoted in that movie choice, and suffered through some sports movie called Rudy, until he spent the end of it in amusement as both Blaine and Finn were in tears. When their parents had come in to say goodnight, Finn had also excused himself to head up to his room and call Rachel, leaving them finally, and happily, alone.
Blaine’s curls are still damp, leaving a growing wet stain on Kurt’s sleeve where his head is pressed, and Kurt could care less because his boyfriend is warm and growing sleepy, curled up against him, humming softly when Kurt slides his fingers beneath the hem of his t-shirt to glide over the flat pane of his belly. Kurt’s seen Pretty Woman so many times that he spends the majority of the movie watching Blaine instead. He always thinks that one day he’ll be used to this; that one day it won’t be quite so amazing to look down and see this beautiful boy lying beside him, fingers occasionally lacing through his, soft lips turning to place a kiss against his shoulder. Then again, Kurt kind of doesn’t want this feeling to go away. He always wants to be amazed that he found Blaine, and that Blaine loves him as much as he so obviously does.
Kurt trails his fingers along the edge of Blaine’s hairline, tracing softly near his temple, pushing curls back from his forehead. His gaze lingers over Blaine’s eye lashes-quite possibly his favorite feature on his boyfriend’s face. He always has trouble deciding because sometimes it’s his mouth, but Kurt blames that bias on how much he enjoys kissing him. Other times it’s how a light blush will linger over Blaine’s cheeks when Kurt teases him at just the right moment; Blaine doesn’t blush as easily as Kurt does, so when it does happen, Kurt relishes it. Or sometimes it’s the faint growth of stubble along Blaine’s jaw late at night that Kurt can’t stop staring at, touching, pressing his lips against. There are nights when he just drags his lips over Blaine’s stubble again and again because he loves the feel of it.
Tonight, though, it’s definitely his lashes; ridiculously long and thick, casting a dark shadow against the top of his cheekbones. Kurt traces a finger along a bushy eyebrow, and then drops it to follow lightly over the skin just beneath the lashes of his left eye. That’s when Blaine shifts up against Kurt and cranes his head back and around to look at him with a soft smile as their gazes meet.
“What are you thinking about when you look at me like that?” Blaine asks quietly, the movie obviously forgotten.
“I’ve got a look?” Kurt’s voice is an octave higher than usual at getting caught, and he feels his cheeks warm as Blaine’s smile broadens.
“You know you do.”
Kurt shrugs lightly, and his fingers slide down Blaine’s cheek to press against his lips. Blaine kisses his fingertips. “Just… lots of things, actually. How beautiful you are. How much I still feel amazed that you’re mine. How much I love you… even when you’re totally ridiculous.”
“So romantic. And then you killed it.”
Kurt laughs softly and brushes his mouth across Blaine’s forehead. “You know you’re ridiculous. You feed off of being so, I think. It’s one of the many reasons I fell so head over heels in love with you. I wish I had half the nerve you do to just put myself out there. Unfortunately, I don’t have a tenth of your charm, so it would never work.”
“Stop. You’re perfect.”
“I know you think so,” Kurt assures him, placing more kisses across his forehead in an attempt to smooth Blaine’s sudden frown away. “I’m not saying it as a way to put myself down. I think we complement one another incredibly well. I’m elegant and sophisticated-“
“And I’m the Fool?”
Kurt laughs, bending closer even as Blaine shifts again, and they meet in a sweet, soft kiss. “You love playing the fool,” Kurt whispers against his mouth.
“Correction, I’m a fool in love.”
“Oh god, how did I know you were going to say that?”Kurt laughs and kisses him again, arm tightening around Blaine’s waist where his hand slides further beneath his shirt, and he feels stomach muscles contract beneath his touch. He drags his fingertips over the hairs that cover the skin around Blaine’s belly button, and then Blaine is turning in his arms, and suddenly they’re pressed together, legs tangled, kiss deepening past the light kisses a moment ago.
This is something else that Kurt can never quite believe is actually happening when it does. That he has this boy-Blaine, his Blaine-wrapped up in his arms, leg pressed between his thighs. His tongue is licking against and past Kurt’s lips, and they’re rocking against one another, Blaine moaning softly into his mouth, and it’s absolutely the hottest thing he’s ever experienced, no matter how many times it happens.
A light flickers on in the hallway. “Kurt?” His dad’s voice filters down from the top of the staircase.
Kurt freezes as Blaine pulls away from his mouth, but his boyfriend isn’t pulling away. He’s placing wet, open-mouthed kisses over Kurt’s neck and it takes every ounce of strength for Kurt to respond in a normal voice, “Yeah, Dad?”
“Think it’s time you headed up to bed.” His dad pauses and Kurt can just hear Carole saying something from the bedroom. “Carole wants to know if Blaine has enough blankets.”
Blaine raises his head from Kurt’s neck. “I’ve got everything I need,” he calls out. “Finn even gave me his Buckeyes fleece.”
“All right, then. See you boys in the morning.”
“Good night, Burt.”
“Night, Dad.”
They both continue to lie there silently for a moment, waiting, but the light doesn’t go out. Blaine smiles a little. “Guess you should go upstairs.”
“Guess so.” Kurt sighs as they kiss again, before climbing over Blaine and off the couch. “I’ll be back down in a few hours,” he whispers, leaning over to kiss Blaine’s forehead.
“One of these days your dad is going to stop letting me stay over if you keep that up.”
“I’d lodge a formal protest. And probably throw a tantrum. He wouldn’t want that.” Kurt gives Blaine a grin as he grabs the blankets and throws them over his boyfriend before dropping to his knees beside the couch and carefully tucking him in.
Blaine rolls onto his side; hands flat beneath his cheek as he offers Kurt an adoring smile. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
“Yes,” Kurt says confidently as he leans down to kiss the tip of Blaine’s nose. “But never stop saying it.”
**************
CONTINUE TO PART TWO
Author: Aelora
Rating: R
Word count: 11,719
Summary: It’s Kurt’s most dreaded time of the year--opening weekend of football season. Only this year, things are a little bit different. (Snippets of a weekend that Kurt and Blaine spend together, ie, this fic has absolutely no point whatsoever.)
A/N: This fic is for Dia, who wanted something fluffy to make the sting of junior!gate go away. I thank her for the inspiration for a fic that had stalled completely a week ago, and ended almost 12,000 words later. It’s sad to think this is the last time I will be writing these boys in the same grade. A moment of silence for the end of an era. ...........
Special thanks to my betas, Oddmeants (the Kurt to my Blaine) and WhenIDance (the Chris to my Darren), both of whom wonder how it is I can write smut for an RP and completely freeze up when it comes to fic. Yay for having cheerleaders!
Title note: For those who aren’t familiar with American football, a forward pass means throwing the ball so that it ends up further downfield than it started. It doesn’t necessarily have to be thrown in the direction of the opponent's goal, but it must advance the ball at least slightly down the field.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the rug, kid.”
Kurt rolls his eyes only a little at his dad’s comment before glancing down at his watch. Blaine will be arriving any moment to spend more than 24 hours with him. His boyfriend had slept over often throughout the summer, so much that Burt had begun teasing him he was going to start charging rent for the use of their couch. He hasn’t stayed over since school began two weeks ago, though, and even with Blaine at McKinley and getting to see each other every day once again, this weekend is a special treat.
Even if it means sitting through an ungodly amount of football, it also means spending that time with Blaine. And short of an all-expenses paid shopping spree of the latest McQueen fall collection, Kurt can’t think of anything he’d rather do.
When he hears the familiar sound of Blaine’s car (yes, he knows the sound by heart, and he doesn’t care who might judge him for it), he pulls open the door and hurries outside to greet Blaine as he opens the driver’s side door. There had been a time when Kurt had tried to play it cool, sitting on the staircase and listening as Blaine walked up the path to the front porch, and he’d count to three after Blaine knocked before allowing himself to answer. After all, he didn’t want to seem too attached.
But that was then, and this is now, and in one week they will be celebrating their sixth month anniversary, and Kurt just can’t bring himself to care if he appears too eager. He loves Blaine, and Blaine loves him, and if there were some problem with him swooping in to steal a kiss before Blaine can even get the door closed, well, then he damn well expects his boyfriend to say something. As it is, though, Blaine just laughs against his mouth and wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders, pulling him close as he whispers, “I missed you, too,” against Kurt’s lips.
And that’s why Kurt doesn’t wait anymore. Because he's not alone.
*************
It’s the opening weekend of the football season, which is apparently such a big deal between the most important men in Kurt’s life that they’ve planned an entire weekend around it. It’s cute, actually, even though Kurt has barely recovered from what was apparently pre-season-a month of games that never counted. He’s still slightly confused on that point. He’d sit there, watching the games with Blaine and Finn and his dad, and they’d jump up and scream and holler and shout profanities at coaches and refs (which they’d each always apologize for afterward), and then after each of their respective teams would lose the game, they would inevitably say “Oh, well. It’s only pre-season, so it doesn’t count anyway.”
Kurt has resigned himself to never understanding.
The worst of it is that he doesn’t even have an ally in the storm of sports-related testosterone that is destined to take over the household from now through January. Carole loves football, too. She perches on the armrest of the chair beside her husband, and cheers or rails right along with him. So no impromptu shopping trips together to get away from the madness, no much-needed escapes to the spa; he will sit there throughout the season beside his boyfriend, silently suffering internally while alternately being delighted at how easily Blaine has been accepted into the family. Kurt may roll his eyes when it happens, but he loves to watch his dad and Blaine high-five one another when the game goes the way they want, or Finn and Blaine grow so impatient during half-time that they have to put on a football video game in order to get through it.
So Sunday’s for the next five months are devoted to football, and Kurt’s fairly certain Blaine will spend most of them at his house, which he’s perfectly fine with. He’s sure there will come a moment when the games themselves will be too much for him, and he’ll have to escape-but knowing the boy he loves is sitting there with his family is quite enough to keep him smiling.
Kurt has his own conditions, though. Take this weekend, for example. Yes, Blaine can smother himself in all things football on Sunday with Kurt’s family. He can shout at the TV, eat horribly unhealthy snacks, and argue with Finn over names and stats that leave Kurt in awe as to how Finn struggles with subjects in school when he has so much useless information memorized. Tonight, though, Blaine belongs to Kurt.
They’re in his room, the door partly open, doing their homework together. This was part of Burt’s conditions-all homework for the upcoming week had to be done by Saturday night in order for Blaine to stay over. They’d agreed to do most of their homework earlier that day before Blaine came over, but they were in AP English together, and had an analysis on Taming of the Shrew to write, so they decided to work on that together.
“I have analyzed the shit out of Shakespeare,” Blaine announces from where his head is positioned at the foot of the bed. He rolls on to his side, leaning up on his elbow to stare up at Kurt who’s sitting with his back against the pillows at the headboard.
Kurt raises an eyebrow, smirking at him. “You don’t say? That’s quite a bit of analyzing.”
“You have no idea.” Blaine sighs, a wee bit dramatically, before reaching out to lay his hand over Kurt’s right foot, rubbing at it gently. “How about you? Almost done?”
“Mmmm. Close.” He closes his eyes at the feel of Blaine’s fingers moving over the ball of his foot. Shakespeare immediately forgotten. “It’s still a little surreal to me… you being at McKinley with me.” Kurt smiles as he says it.
“It’s still a little surreal to me,” Blaine replies, the bed shifting as he sits up and pulls Kurt’s feet into his lap to really begin massaging them. “Friday morning I passed Coach Sylvester in the hall. She called me Fozzy, and then proceeded to say how she hadn’t realized Muppets were being allowed into public schools and it was very progressive of the education system.”
Kurt’s eyes fly open and he’s honestly caught between laughter and outrage on behalf of his boyfriend. “What did you say?”
Blaine shrugs. “That I prefer Rolf.”
Kurt’s giggles erupt at that. “Oh, god. This is why I love you.”
“I’m still a little confused, though.” Blaine slides his fingers, thumbs rubbing hard into the arch of his left foot. “Why a Muppet? Be honest, Kurt. It’s the eyebrows, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I think it probably is.” Kurt lies on his side, twisting his feet slightly in Blaine’s lap and smiles at him. “I wouldn’t take it to heart, though. I think your eyebrows are beautiful.”
“And I think you’re slightly biased.”
Kurt moves his shoulders a little as if to say “Yeah, and?” and returning the smile that Blaine gives him. “So, it’s your turn to be honest,” he begins, tracing his fingers over the top of his duvet. “What did you think of your first official week at McKinley?”
“Hmmm. You mean once we got past the awkward attack by Finn in the choir room, and my first slushie incident?”
“Yes, aside from those. I mean, you have to admit, this last week was remarkably drama-free, all things being equal.”
Blaine blinks at him, all wide-eyed and adorable. “This week was drama-free?”
Kurt waves a hand. “You get used to it after a while. And you haven’t answered the question.”
“Oh. Well…” Blaine smiles, eyes twinkling just a little as he looks up from beneath his lashes over at Kurt. “I did get to spend the entire week driving to school with my boyfriend, eating lunch with my boyfriend, sitting in English and choir with my boyfriend, and returning home almost every day to do homework with my boyfriend. So all in all, the week has been pretty awesome.”
“Dork.” Kurt pushes a socked foot against Blaine’s belly. “Of course that part’s been awesome. I meant McKinley in general. Being back at public school. Being part of New Direction’s insanity.”
“Oh, you meant the stuff I’m actually supposed to share with my parents?” Blaine smiles. “Yeah, well, the coursework is ludicrous, the teachers are clueless and you are completely correct in mentioning your glee club’s insanity. But, I suppose it must all make me equally insane because I have actually found myself enjoying every bit of it. I mean, I miss the Warblers,” he admits quietly, dropping his gaze to his hands as he continues to move his fingers slowly over Kurt’s feet. “They had their own unique brand of insanity but… There’s a lot I’ve missed about public school.”
“Plus, you get to see your boyfriend in fabulous outfits,” Kurt points out, fluttering his lashes slightly.
“That, too,” Blaine agrees with another smile. “Although, and don’t hate me for saying this, but I always thought you looked adorable in your Dalton uniform.”
Kurt laughs, waving a hand at Blaine. “As did you. But I have to say, I’m kind of partial to seeing your ankles on an almost daily basis.”
Blaine raises an eyebrow, and extends a leg out from under him, twisting his bare foot around slightly. “I do have rather nice ankles, don’t I?” He asks, just barely suppressing his laughter.
“Oh, they’re very nice,” Kurt agrees, reaching out to brush his fingers lightly over the sharp bone, thumb lingering to caress in small circles. “I almost smacked Tina the other day when I caught her checking them out. I told her after choir, in no uncertain terms that your ankles belonged to me and me alone.”
His boyfriend giggles. “And what was her response to that?”
Kurt frowns just slightly, wrapping his hand around Blaine’s ankle possessively. “She asked if that meant she could claim your ass instead.”
Blaine burst into surprised laughter, clutching both of Kurt’s feet to him as he bends slightly at the waist with his mirth. “I love Tina. I can only imagine the conversation went downhill from there.”
Sighing at the memory, his cheeks warming slightly, Kurt admits, “I had to just give up and walk away after I made the mistake of saying your ass was mine. Tina wasn’t going to let that one go.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t blame her. I mean, you kind of walked right into that.”
“I didn’t mean to! I certainly didn’t mean it like,” he flails his hand slightly, “that.”
Blaine pokes his lower lip out in a pout and Kurt already knows what’s coming. “Are you saying you don’t want my ass, Kurt?”
“Oh! You!” Kurt straightens his legs with a slight shove, really only meaning to give Blaine a light punch to the stomach, but he uses more force than he means to, and with a squeal, Blaine goes tumbling backward off the bed.
Laughing, Kurt scrambles to the foot of the bed, looking down at Blaine, who is drumming his fingers over his chest, staring up at Kurt with something like disbelief. “You shoved me off the bed, Kurt.”
He bites his lip to keep from laughing. “I’m… sorry?” Kurt reaches his hand down. “Come back up here and I’ll apologize properly.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Kurt should have known long before Blaine takes his hand and gives a hard yank that he isn’t just going to get out of it with a simple apology. There’s a knock on the door and Carole pushes it open just as Kurt gives a shrill screech as he is pulled off the bed, landing in a sprawl, half over Blaine and the floor with a very loud thud. He barely catches his breath as Blaine’s fingers begin dancing over his sides, tickling him.
Dammit.
“Just thought I’d let the two of you know dinner’s ready,” Carole tells them, amusement in her tone.
“Thanks, Carole!” Kurt gasps between his laughter as Blaine rolls him over onto his back and straddles his hips, tickling him in earnest now. “Just gimme a-moment!”
“No food for him!” Blaine announces, leaning over Kurt with a leer as he digs into his ribs with the tips of his fingers and slides up under his arms-and crap, that’s where Kurt is most ticklish. He kicks his legs up in protest as Blaine continues, “He’s been a very, very bad boyfriend!”
“I didn’t mean it!” Kurt laughs, squirming with growing force beneath him.
“The hell is going up-Oh,” Burt Hummel’s voice enters the fray, and Kurt just barely glances a look over Blaine’s shoulder to see his dad standing beside Carole as they exchange a smile with one another. “The usual, I see.”
“Dad!” Kurt cries out. “Make him stop!”
“Sorry, kiddo. I learned long ago not to get involved in domestic disputes.”
His dad’s response just makes Kurt laugh harder.
“Guess we’ll just give Blaine’s burgers to Finn,” Carole says with a sigh.
“Wait. What? We’re having burgers?”
Blaine turns to look over his shoulder at Kurt’s parents, momentarily distracted by hearing that he might miss out on food, and Kurt takes advantage of the sneaky play by Carole to grab his boyfriend by the hips and throw him off to the floor. Before Blaine can move, Kurt reverses their positions, grabbing Blaine’s wrists and pinning his arms above his head.
“Aha!! I win!” Kurt exclaims in victory, grinning down at his boyfriend beneath him, who is pointing adorably at being outwitted by the Hudson-Hummel’s.
“That’s unfair! Carole cheated!”
“I was simply pointing out that you appeared far too busy to join us for dinner, Blaine,” Carole responds with a laugh. “Now let’s get downstairs before Finn eats all of the food and there’s nothing left for any of us.”
“We’ll be right there,” Kurt tells her, glancing over his shoulder to watch as his dad puts his arm around her waist and guides her out of the room, their voices low as they whisper to one another.
He looks back down at Blaine with his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and smiles as he rubs his thumbs over the back of Blaine’s wrists before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re a brat.”
“Who pushed who off the bed again?”
Kurt laughs as he rubs the tips of their noses together. “You know I didn’t mean to.”
“You pushed me with your stinky feet!”
“My feet aren’t stinky!”
“They so are!”
“Blaine!” Burt calls from downstairs. “Carole’s giving your food to Finn!”
“Awesome!” Finn exclaims.
“Shit! Get off me!” Blaine starts slapping at Kurt’s thighs, wiggling beneath him. “Carole makes, like, the best burgers ever! Get off!”
Laughing, Kurt gives him another kiss before climbing to his feet and reaching a hand down to him to help Blaine up. “Sometimes I think you love food more than me.”
“Sometimes you’re probably right.” Blaine smirks as he heads for the door.
“Brat!” Kurt calls out.
“Stinky feet!”
******************
“…So then the entire tent just collapses on top of him and Kurt’s sitting there with just like half of his head sticking out through the opening, this positively miserable look on his face and the clouds have opened up and it’s just pouring!”
Kurt sips at his iced tea as Blaine, Finn and Carole roar with laughter around him. He gives his dad one of his patented, long-suffering looks; the ‘Kurt goes camping for his first and last time ever’ story is one of Burt Hummel’s favorites to tell. He shares it at every holiday gathering. Kurt’s almost positive he told these exact people the same story during their 4th of July cook-out, though they’re all laughing as if they’ve never heard it before.
Setting his glass down, Kurt side-eyes his boyfriend where Blaine is sitting on his right. “Just try to convince me you’ve ever been any better at camping out.”
Blaine gets one of those smug expressions that Kurt has yet to determine if he finds incredibly adorable or incredibly annoying, and oh god, he knows what Blaine is going to say before he even speaks. “Actually, I was in Boy Scouts for a couple of years.”
“This is not entirely surprising,” Kurt mutters, rolling his eyes fondly as he allows a small smile.
“Dude, I can totally see you as a Boy Scout,” Finn comments from across the table as he reaches for his fourth cheeseburger.
“I’m not entirely certain I’d take that as a compliment, Blaine.” Kurt leans back in his seat, fingering his untouched knife at his place setting. Finn sticks his tongue out at him in an oh-so-mature manner as befitting his stepbrother, and Kurt just stares back at him until Finn concentrates solely on putting too much ketchup on his burger.
“Have something against Boy Scouts, Kurt?” Blaine teases with a wink.
Kurt just sighs and shakes his head at him.
The boys help clear the table and clean the dishes. Or rather, Kurt does the dishes while Blaine pretends to dry-but he’s been rubbing the towel over the same plate for the last ten minutes-and Finn is supposed to be putting leftovers away, but has been snacking on the sweet potato fries right out of the pan. They’re talking football, so Kurt doesn’t begrudge them their lack of help too much. It’s what the weekend is meant to be for them, after all, and to be honest, Kurt’s just pleased to see them getting along. Blaine’s transfer to McKinley hasn’t gone over as smoothly for everyone as Kurt had originally anticipated. He knows his stepbrother likes Blaine-they spent most of the summer playing flag football and video games together while Kurt worked on his musical. But Finn has always had problems when the things that matter to him appear to be threatened by outside factors. His place as leader in New Directions has always been fairly solid.
Until Blaine’s transfer.
And it’s difficult for Kurt not to feel pride over the fact that others recognize Blaine as a natural leader. He’s always seen it, from the moment he saw his interaction with the Warblers that first day Kurt went to spy on the group. Blaine denies it. He just wants to sing and perform and make people smile, and doesn’t seem to realize that it’s exactly his ability to make people smile that sets him up as a leader. Blaine bleeds charm, and honestly Kurt wouldn’t have it any other way. Especially considering Kurt highly doubts anyone would accuse him of having too much charm, and as a couple at least one of them should.
“I can’t believe you’re a New England fan. Don’t you think that’s kind of like cheating?”
Blaine leans against the sink top counter beside Kurt, their hips brushing together briefly. “No. My granddad’s a New England fan. So’s my brother. My father is the loser Cleveland fan-“
“Hey!” Finn sounds caught between laughter and insult. “If your Pats do anything this year, it’s just because they stole Ochocinco from us.”
“And if we don’t, you can have him back.”
Finn snorts and finally begins digging through the drawer for the plastic wrap. Kurt considers telling him not to bother because there’s maybe a handful of fries left but decides to let it go. When Carole goes to heat them up, she’ll know the culprit.
“Oh, I’ve gotten behind, haven’t I?” Blaine remarks quietly beside him and Kurt looks over to find him flashing an adorable, apologetic look.
“It’s all right.” Kurt leans in and bumps their shoulders together. “It’s nice just having you here.”
“And that’s my cue,” Finn groans, but he’s grinning with dimples when Kurt looks over his shoulder at him.
“Oh, yes, because having to listen to you and Rachel simper at one another all through glee is something the rest of us love suffering through,” Kurt comments, shutting off the faucet.
“We don’t simper.”
“Oh, Finn!” Blaine mimics suddenly, fluttering his eyelashes at Kurt as he grabs him by the arm and hangs on him. “You’re so big and strong! And when you sing classic rock tunes, I positively swoon in these cheap plastic chairs!”
“That’s nothing compared to seeing you in those tacky animal sweaters you wear, Rachel,” Kurt responds in his deepest register, giggling slightly as Blaine flails a dramatic hand against his forehead. “And those short little schoolgirl skirts-“
“I hate you both,” Finn mutters, snatching the towel quickly from Blaine and twisting it with a viciousness that causes Blaine’s eyes to widen in terror.
They both run screaming in opposite directions as Finn lunges at them with a crack of the towel. By Blaine’s yelp, Kurt realizes his boyfriend didn’t make it away fast enough.
******************
“I swear to god, this is the saddest moment in the history of any movie ever,” Kurt sniffs as sad-eyed Julia Roberts exits the clothing store on Rodeo Drive after the saleswoman told her to leave. “I mean, you walk in there, hands full of money, able to buy whatever you want-and this bitch won’t let you just because you’re a whore! I mean, it’s not as if she was in there singing about keeping toys in drawers or anything.”
Blaine shifts against him, craning his head back to blink up at Kurt in the light glow of the television. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Nope,” Kurt responds with a smile, bending his head to press a kiss to Blaine’s forehead. “When we’re old and gray and sitting around telling stories to our grandchildren, I will tell them all about the time I had to stand by-suffering silently, mind you-while their granddaddy sang his heart out to an older guy, in front of a store filled with strangers, about having sex.”
Kurt giggles as Blaine elbows him in the stomach. “You will do no such thing like tell our innocent grandbabies about that! Maybe when they’re older… married, or having kids of their own, or something.”
“Oh, god. Slow down there, sweetheart. I’m not ready to be a great grandfather just yet.”
Laughing, Blaine snuggles back against Kurt and returns his attention to Pretty Woman.
They’re lying together stretched out on the couch, Kurt pressed up against the back of the cushions, Blaine curled up like a smaller spoon against him, his head tucked up into Kurt’s shoulder. They’d each showered after dinner, changing into their pajamas with the intention of falling asleep while watching the movies they’d picked out. Or rather, Kurt had changed into pajamas; Blaine had changed into his usual flannel bottoms in OSU colors with a Buckeyes t-shirt his older brother, Braden, had given him last year for his birthday. Finn had joined them for their first movie, while Carole and Burt had stayed in the kitchen, playing cards at the table while they had coffee and chatted quietly. Sadly, Kurt had been outvoted in that movie choice, and suffered through some sports movie called Rudy, until he spent the end of it in amusement as both Blaine and Finn were in tears. When their parents had come in to say goodnight, Finn had also excused himself to head up to his room and call Rachel, leaving them finally, and happily, alone.
Blaine’s curls are still damp, leaving a growing wet stain on Kurt’s sleeve where his head is pressed, and Kurt could care less because his boyfriend is warm and growing sleepy, curled up against him, humming softly when Kurt slides his fingers beneath the hem of his t-shirt to glide over the flat pane of his belly. Kurt’s seen Pretty Woman so many times that he spends the majority of the movie watching Blaine instead. He always thinks that one day he’ll be used to this; that one day it won’t be quite so amazing to look down and see this beautiful boy lying beside him, fingers occasionally lacing through his, soft lips turning to place a kiss against his shoulder. Then again, Kurt kind of doesn’t want this feeling to go away. He always wants to be amazed that he found Blaine, and that Blaine loves him as much as he so obviously does.
Kurt trails his fingers along the edge of Blaine’s hairline, tracing softly near his temple, pushing curls back from his forehead. His gaze lingers over Blaine’s eye lashes-quite possibly his favorite feature on his boyfriend’s face. He always has trouble deciding because sometimes it’s his mouth, but Kurt blames that bias on how much he enjoys kissing him. Other times it’s how a light blush will linger over Blaine’s cheeks when Kurt teases him at just the right moment; Blaine doesn’t blush as easily as Kurt does, so when it does happen, Kurt relishes it. Or sometimes it’s the faint growth of stubble along Blaine’s jaw late at night that Kurt can’t stop staring at, touching, pressing his lips against. There are nights when he just drags his lips over Blaine’s stubble again and again because he loves the feel of it.
Tonight, though, it’s definitely his lashes; ridiculously long and thick, casting a dark shadow against the top of his cheekbones. Kurt traces a finger along a bushy eyebrow, and then drops it to follow lightly over the skin just beneath the lashes of his left eye. That’s when Blaine shifts up against Kurt and cranes his head back and around to look at him with a soft smile as their gazes meet.
“What are you thinking about when you look at me like that?” Blaine asks quietly, the movie obviously forgotten.
“I’ve got a look?” Kurt’s voice is an octave higher than usual at getting caught, and he feels his cheeks warm as Blaine’s smile broadens.
“You know you do.”
Kurt shrugs lightly, and his fingers slide down Blaine’s cheek to press against his lips. Blaine kisses his fingertips. “Just… lots of things, actually. How beautiful you are. How much I still feel amazed that you’re mine. How much I love you… even when you’re totally ridiculous.”
“So romantic. And then you killed it.”
Kurt laughs softly and brushes his mouth across Blaine’s forehead. “You know you’re ridiculous. You feed off of being so, I think. It’s one of the many reasons I fell so head over heels in love with you. I wish I had half the nerve you do to just put myself out there. Unfortunately, I don’t have a tenth of your charm, so it would never work.”
“Stop. You’re perfect.”
“I know you think so,” Kurt assures him, placing more kisses across his forehead in an attempt to smooth Blaine’s sudden frown away. “I’m not saying it as a way to put myself down. I think we complement one another incredibly well. I’m elegant and sophisticated-“
“And I’m the Fool?”
Kurt laughs, bending closer even as Blaine shifts again, and they meet in a sweet, soft kiss. “You love playing the fool,” Kurt whispers against his mouth.
“Correction, I’m a fool in love.”
“Oh god, how did I know you were going to say that?”Kurt laughs and kisses him again, arm tightening around Blaine’s waist where his hand slides further beneath his shirt, and he feels stomach muscles contract beneath his touch. He drags his fingertips over the hairs that cover the skin around Blaine’s belly button, and then Blaine is turning in his arms, and suddenly they’re pressed together, legs tangled, kiss deepening past the light kisses a moment ago.
This is something else that Kurt can never quite believe is actually happening when it does. That he has this boy-Blaine, his Blaine-wrapped up in his arms, leg pressed between his thighs. His tongue is licking against and past Kurt’s lips, and they’re rocking against one another, Blaine moaning softly into his mouth, and it’s absolutely the hottest thing he’s ever experienced, no matter how many times it happens.
A light flickers on in the hallway. “Kurt?” His dad’s voice filters down from the top of the staircase.
Kurt freezes as Blaine pulls away from his mouth, but his boyfriend isn’t pulling away. He’s placing wet, open-mouthed kisses over Kurt’s neck and it takes every ounce of strength for Kurt to respond in a normal voice, “Yeah, Dad?”
“Think it’s time you headed up to bed.” His dad pauses and Kurt can just hear Carole saying something from the bedroom. “Carole wants to know if Blaine has enough blankets.”
Blaine raises his head from Kurt’s neck. “I’ve got everything I need,” he calls out. “Finn even gave me his Buckeyes fleece.”
“All right, then. See you boys in the morning.”
“Good night, Burt.”
“Night, Dad.”
They both continue to lie there silently for a moment, waiting, but the light doesn’t go out. Blaine smiles a little. “Guess you should go upstairs.”
“Guess so.” Kurt sighs as they kiss again, before climbing over Blaine and off the couch. “I’ll be back down in a few hours,” he whispers, leaning over to kiss Blaine’s forehead.
“One of these days your dad is going to stop letting me stay over if you keep that up.”
“I’d lodge a formal protest. And probably throw a tantrum. He wouldn’t want that.” Kurt gives Blaine a grin as he grabs the blankets and throws them over his boyfriend before dropping to his knees beside the couch and carefully tucking him in.
Blaine rolls onto his side; hands flat beneath his cheek as he offers Kurt an adoring smile. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
“Yes,” Kurt says confidently as he leans down to kiss the tip of Blaine’s nose. “But never stop saying it.”
**************
CONTINUE TO PART TWO