Blaine Likes Dictionaries
Title: Blaine Likes Dictionaries
Fandom: Glee
Written: November, 2010
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3300
Summary: Blaine really likes dictionaries, because they give him lots of different ways of defining the word 'kiss.' Now if only he could make Kurt understand that...
------
“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” Blaine says out of the blue one day while they’re supposed to be studying in the library. Kurt looks up from the book he’s taking notes from, raising an eyebrow.
“Well that’s always helpful,” he quips, turning back to his book.
“No, but I’m serious,” Blaine presses on. “I don’t think either of your first kisses counted. Not really.”
“And what makes you think that?” Kurt asks, looking up from his book again, a curious expression on his face.
“I dunno,” Blaine admits honestly. “But I’m going to prove it to you.”
Kurt lets out a harsh laugh that earns him a glare from the librarian. He shakes his head, saying, “Sure. Okay. Whatever,” marking his page in the book and closing it. They haven’t spoken about the kiss since Blaine had come to McKinley to attempt to talk to Karofsky, and Kurt had hoped that they would never bring it up again. It’s easier to forget something when he doesn’t have to talk about it.
“I’m serious,” Blaine insists. He gets up from the table and walks over to the large, heavy dictionary positioned in the corner of the library. Kurt watches him, wondering what he could possibly be doing, when his phone makes a little ping noise. The message on the screen says, “New picture message from Blaine.” He clicks on it, wondering why Blaine’s insisting on sending him a picture of a dictionary.
He loads the picture and sees that Blaine has taken a picture of a definition. He squints to read it; the lighting wasn’t the best in here, so the picture was dim.
kiss (kɪs)
- vb
1. (tr) to touch with the lips or press the lips against as an expression of love, greeting, respect, etc
2. (intr) to join lips with another person in an act of love or desire
3. to touch (each other) lightly: their hands kissed
4. billiards (of balls) to touch (each other) lightly while moving
His phone pinged again, telling him that he had a text from Blaine. Kurt shook his head as he loaded the message.
What do the first two have in common? the message read. Kurt went back to the picture, reading and figuring out what Blaine wanted him to figure out within seconds.
Love. he texts back simply, still wondering why Blaine’s insisting on standing at the dictionary.
I’m saving that text forever. is Blaine’s answer, then he finally walks back to their table, grinning like a complete fool.
“Nice going,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “You’ve managed to convince me that Dave Karofsky doesn’t understand what a kiss is. Doesn’t change the fact that he physically did it.”
“You’re saying that now,” Blaine taps his pencil on Kurt’s nose, “but wait till you have your first real kiss. Then you’ll be thinking otherwise.”
“Are you volunteering?” Kurt’s taken aback by the coyness in his voice. Blaine doesn’t seem put off; he grins even wider and winks.
“Maybe.”
“At least you’re honest,” Kurt sighs.
------
When Kurt walks into pre-calc, there’s a Hershey kiss sitting on his desk.
He looks around at the boys already there, but none of them seem to notice. They’re all talking amongst themselves, as if it’s completely normal for someone to leave a piece of candy on someone else’s desk.
He’s halfway through scrutinizing every inch of the foil-wrapped chocolate when he remembers that this isn’t McKinley and he’s probably safe if he wants to eat it. But he doesn’t want to eat it, because that means eating the evidence that someone made a conscious decision to leave him something, because candy kisses don’t fall from the ceiling.
And yes, he just looked up at the ceiling to check.
He would never do this at McKinley, but Dalton seems pretty clean and safe, so he slides one hand under the desk, feeling around for a note telling him why there’s a piece of candy on his desk. His hand brushes against a piece of paper and he tugs at it, pulling out a folded piece of notebook paper.
kiss
- noun
a small, sometimes conical, bite-sized piece of chocolate, usually individually wrapped
Even though the only times he’s seen it is upside down as they take notes in the library, Kurt recognizes Blaine’s handwriting. Kurt is kind of in love with Blaine’s handwriting, actually, because while everything else about him seems perfect, he writes in a messy combination of print and cursive, letters squishing together and making it hard to read.
He folds the paper back up and slides it into the pocket of his jacket, still reveling in the fact that he and Blaine actually match now. He’s not normally one for matching outfits, but there’s something about the camaraderie or wearing a uniform that heightens his feeling of connectedness with Blaine. It doesn’t matter that the rest of the school is wearing the same thing. He and Blaine are the only two that matter.
He leaves the kiss on his desk all throughout class, grinning at it whenever he had a break between the different parts of the lesson. For once he was actually ahead of his Dalton classmates; he’d been in McKinley’s accelerated math program, which meant he was about two lessons ahead. That meant more time to grin at Blaine’s chocolate kiss.
On the way to the dining hall, he holds the kiss carefully in his hand. Blaine is already sitting at their usual table, flanked by Wes and David. Kurt walks over to them, tipping the kiss onto the table by his spot and sitting down, grinning.
Blaine catches his eye and winks. Wes and David look at each other and then start laughing. Kurt glares at both of them.
“I’m sorry,” Wes tries to wave this away with his hand. “You guys are just too funny.”
“How so?” Kurt asks, folding his arms huffily over his chest.
“It’s obvious you’ve totally got the hots for each other,” David insists. “Just jump him already!” He doesn’t look at either one of them when he says the last sentence, clearly not wanting to give the order to just one of them.
Kurt lets his head fall to the table, making sure not to crush Blaine’s kiss. He feels a hand on top of his head, so he turns to see Wes’s arm stretched out towards him.
“Oh, foolish young one,” Wes says, clearly holding back a laugh, “you’re allowed to make the first move.”
“And you,” he hears David chime in, voice sounding a bit muffled which could only mean he was speaking to Blaine, “shouldn’t worry so much. Kurt’s totally cool with your more than obvious crush on him, right Kurt?”
“Sure,” Kurt waves his hands in a gesture he hopes looks like an affirmation, his head still resting on the table.
“Aren’t you gonna eat your kiss?” David asks him, poking it back into his line of sight. Kurt, grinning evilly, sits up and looks directly at Blaine when he says, “Yes, I think I will.”
He makes quite a show out of unwrapping the chocolate, egged on by Wes and David’s sniggers. He picks it up, leaving the foil on the table and licks a circle around the middle of the chocolate, looking Blaine straight in the eyes while he does it. Blaine’s face goes from a smirk to a blank stare in about one second, and Kurt’s almost positive that his eyes get darker.
He pops the candy in his mouth, making an exaggerated, “mmmm,” noise. Wes pats him on the shoulder while David doubles over laughing. Kurt keeps staring at Blaine, their eyes locked, and he sucks on the chocolate a little rather than chewing and swallowing. His mouth gets almost uncomfortably covered with chocolate and he’s suddenly very in need of a glass of water. But he doesn’t move. He just sits there, staring at Blaine and Blaine just sits there, staring at him.
Kurt’s eyes drop to Blaine’s mouth, noting that his lips are parted and slightly pursed, as if he’s trying to kiss Kurt from across the table. However, the sudden loss of eye contact seems to make Blaine realize just what he’s doing, and he brings a hand up to his face, breathing heavily and blinking rapidly.
------
Kurt’s not entirely sure what’s going on when he walks in on Blaine in the student kitchen with a weird, sticky, white something in his hair. The boy is feverishly stirring something in a mixing bowl and there’s a blender that looks like it just exploded sitting next to the bowl on the counter.
From the state of the kitchen and Blaine’s hair, the blender probably did explode.
“Blaine, what are you doing?” Kurt asks. Blaine jumps, letting out a yell.
“Don’t do that!” he says, pushing the bowl away.
“Don’t do what?” Kurt puts his hands on his hips. “And don’t say ‘sneak up on me,’ because I was walking loudly enough for you to hear me.”
“Sure,” Blaine mutters, rolling his eyes and heaving an impressive sigh. Kurt walks over to him, sticking a finger into the bowl and tasting what’s inside.
“Um, what is that?” he asks, because while it’s sweet and tastes nice, he’s not quite sure what it’s supposed to be. Blaine heaves another sigh and slides a piece of paper towards him.
kiss
- noun
a baked confection of egg whites and confectioner’s sugar, served as a cookie
Kurt slides the paper back, an amused smile on his face.
“So, what, you’re trying to improvise the recipe with just that?” He’s finding it very hard to resist the urge to laugh.
“Maybe,” Blaine picks up the bowl and the spoon he’s mixing it with, turning his back on Kurt and going back to mixing the liquid-looking mixture ferociously. Kurt reaches around him to still his hand, heat going up his arm from where their fingers touched.
“Blaine, you need a whisk,” he tells the clearly clueless boy. “Do you know what a whisk is?”
“Uh,” Blaine wipes his forehead with the back of the hand holding the spoon, dripping egg and sugar on the floor and smearing the stuff that’s in his hair. “Maybe?”
“You need to stop using that as your default answer,” Kurt shakes his head and starts rummaging through the drawers. Finding what he’s looking for, he swaps with Blaine, taking away the spoon and handing him the whisk. He watches as Blaine returns to mixing, clearly not knowing how to use a whisk properly.
Kurt watches him for a few seconds, reveling in the fact that Blaine is so out of his element and yet he’s still trying so hard. Eventually he takes pity on the poor boy and steals the bowl and the whisk, showing him how to do it properly.
“There, see?” he shows Blaine the bowl. The mixture has started to fluff. “That’s how you do it.”
“But then how do I bake them?” Blaine asks.
“That is an excellent question,” Kurt points the whisk at him. “I’m inclined to just eat it raw, no matter how horrible raw eggs are for you. If we pair this with enough water breaks to combat the almost unbearable sugary taste, I think we can finish it.”
“You’re kind of my favorite,” Blaine’s smile is so dopey that it’s physically paining Kurt to not making fun of him for it. So instead, he decides to wipe that dopey look right off Blaine’s face. He brings the whisk up to his mouth and licks it, his tongue darting out quickly, wetting his lips at the same time.
Just like with the chocolate kiss, Blaine’s instantly distracted. He gets that same blank look on his face and his eyes darken and when Kurt hands him the whisk and says, “Lick it,” Blaine takes it and does exactly that without question.
He’s getting really good at this seducing thing, apparently.
But now Blaine’s licking the whisk, doing exactly the opposite of what Kurt had done. His tongue is hardly going back into his mouth at all, trailing lazy strokes down the metal handle and making Kurt think of all the things that tongue could be doing if Blaine weren’t holding onto a kitchen utensil.
He’s gaping like an idiot, getting a taste of his own medicine and wondering how it is possible for him to feel so turned on by a boy licking up raw eggs. When Blaine takes the bowl away from him, Kurt just makes an embarrassing, “guh,” noise, too busy staring at that mouth to realize that he no longer has something to hold onto.
And then Blaine throws the bowl on top of his head, and Kurt feels it dripping down his face and into his shirt and he’s going to kill Blaine, because it’s not like he can just pop this shirt into the washing machine and hope for the best.
His breath shudders and halts altogether when he feels something wet and warm slide across his cheek and up his face.
“How is it,” he manages to say, even with the egg and sugar mixture dripping down his face, “that you manage to lick me before you kiss me?”
“I blame you,” Blaine all but growls in his ear, a perfect imitation of Tulio from The Road to El Dorado, except he sounds more aroused than angry. And it’s kind of the perfect comparison, too, because they watched that movie three days ago and both agreed that Tulio and Miguel clearly had something going on.
He grabs Blaine by the tie and he’s about to either punch this boy or kiss him, but he never gets the chance because David picks right then of all moments to walk in and tell them that they’re all supposed to meet in fifteen minutes for an emergency Warblers practice, so they should probably both go take cold showers, like, pronto.
------
This time there’s no definition scrawled across a piece of paper or a failed attempt at baking. There’s no chocolates, there’s just the two of them sitting together outside in the grass, holding hands and leaning against a tree.
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” Kurt asks, because he kind of thinks this is the perfect opportunity and it’s going to waste. They’re all alone and it’s Sunday, so neither of them have anywhere to be.
“Why should I kiss you?” Blaine asks, making Kurt frown.
“Because you’ve only been dropping hints since forever that you want to,” he reasons. “And you know that I want to kiss you. So why not?”
“Why do I have to make the first move?” Blaine counters. “Why don’t you kiss me?”
Kurt hadn’t been prepared for the abrupt switch in roles, because in his mind, he’s always the one being kissed, not the one who initiates the whole thing. So he counters right back.
“And why do I have to make the first move?”
“Because of what happened last time someone kissed you,” Blaine says simply, making Kurt’s stomach lurch and now he’s totally not in the mood to kiss anyone anymore.
“Thanks for reminding me,” he grumbles, sitting up and tugging his hand out of Blaine’s grasp.
“No, hear me out,” Blaine follows, straightening up and linking their fingers again. “You told me about both of the times someone’s kissed you. Both times you were the one being kissed and both times you really didn’t want to be kissed. And I’m not about to add my name to that list.”
“But I want you to kiss me,” Kurt almost whines, leaning against Blaine and tucking his head into the crook of Blaine’s neck. “I’ve wanted you to since I met you.”
“And I will kiss you,” Blaine promises. “I’ll kiss you back, I promise. But this is special, Kurt, because now you’re with someone who you know will follow through and kiss you. All you have to do is decide if you really want it.”
“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Kurt tells Blaine, even though he already knows.
“First time for everything,” Blaine reasons. “I want you to take the first step this time, because this truly will be your first kiss if you do.”
It’s at that moment when everything Blaine’s been doing seems to make sense. Every one of those definitions and gestures meant that it’s up to Kurt to decide when he wants to have his first kiss, because he can’t have his first kiss until he kisses back. And Blaine wants him to be so sure that he wants it that he’s the one that initiates it.
The knowledge that Blaine probably would have kissed him long before if he hadn’t been dead set on Kurt making the first move is what spurs him into motion. He lifts his head, turning to look at Blaine and feeling so comfortable under his gaze that all his nerves seem to leave.
He tilts his head and presses his mouth against Blaine’s. He tries to remember what Brittany had done with her mouth when she kissed him - because she definitely knew what she was doing - but he found that it was hard to keep thinking with his lips on Blaine’s. So he tilts his head further to the side and moves his lips a little, trying to find a place where they fit.
Blaine meets him halfway, helping him find the spot where they fit together, his tongue just barely brushing against Kurt’s bottom lip. And that’s the tongue that Kurt’s obsessed with, that Kurt’s positively enamored with, so he feels his own tongue move as if on its own, trying to seek out Blaine’s so they could finally learn what the other tastes like.
He’s probably being way too forward and bold and he’s more than certain that this is a really sloppy kiss, but Blaine’s not pulling away and he’s actually letting Kurt put his tongue inside his mouth, even though Kurt has no idea what he’s supposed to do with it. It’s nothing what he thought a first kiss should be like, and yet even though his face is flushed and he’s probably never going to want to so much as look at Blaine ever again out of embarrassment, it’s his first real kiss and that’s really all that matters.
Their lips part as they both inhale deeply, and then they’re connected again. And this time Blaine’s showing Kurt just what he’s supposed to do. He’s showing him just how to move his lips and what he’s supposed to do with his tongue and - an aspect Kurt hadn’t even thought of - where to put his hands. Now they’re not just sitting awkwardly with their faces pressed together; Blaine’s guiding Kurt’s entire body closer to him, letting him run his hands through his hair and touch as much of him as he wants.
It’s so much more than a kiss, because there’s so much more involved than just lips. There are roaming hands and hearts beating so fast it’s almost painful and hips pressing against hips in a way that feels so good that Kurt could just stay like that and never move and he could die a happy man. And he wishes that he could tell Blaine all of this, but it’s clear that Blaine already knows, because he’s started making these noises and it’s then that Kurt realizes that he’s making them too.
They’re lost in each other’s bodies, completely submerged and floating together, and it’s like Kurt’s found a little door into Blaine’s mind. It’s like he’s inside Blaine’s head, learning that pressing down means one thing and grabbing means another and those noises Blaine’s making mean a whole number of things that he’ll have to learn in time.
And he knows he’ll have plenty of time to learn, because Blaine pulls back and whispers against his lips, “First time’s always the best, but that doesn’t mean we can’t keep trying to out-do it,” before pulling him back in.
Fandom: Glee
Written: November, 2010
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3300
Summary: Blaine really likes dictionaries, because they give him lots of different ways of defining the word 'kiss.' Now if only he could make Kurt understand that...
------
“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” Blaine says out of the blue one day while they’re supposed to be studying in the library. Kurt looks up from the book he’s taking notes from, raising an eyebrow.
“Well that’s always helpful,” he quips, turning back to his book.
“No, but I’m serious,” Blaine presses on. “I don’t think either of your first kisses counted. Not really.”
“And what makes you think that?” Kurt asks, looking up from his book again, a curious expression on his face.
“I dunno,” Blaine admits honestly. “But I’m going to prove it to you.”
Kurt lets out a harsh laugh that earns him a glare from the librarian. He shakes his head, saying, “Sure. Okay. Whatever,” marking his page in the book and closing it. They haven’t spoken about the kiss since Blaine had come to McKinley to attempt to talk to Karofsky, and Kurt had hoped that they would never bring it up again. It’s easier to forget something when he doesn’t have to talk about it.
“I’m serious,” Blaine insists. He gets up from the table and walks over to the large, heavy dictionary positioned in the corner of the library. Kurt watches him, wondering what he could possibly be doing, when his phone makes a little ping noise. The message on the screen says, “New picture message from Blaine.” He clicks on it, wondering why Blaine’s insisting on sending him a picture of a dictionary.
He loads the picture and sees that Blaine has taken a picture of a definition. He squints to read it; the lighting wasn’t the best in here, so the picture was dim.
kiss (kɪs)
- vb
1. (tr) to touch with the lips or press the lips against as an expression of love, greeting, respect, etc
2. (intr) to join lips with another person in an act of love or desire
3. to touch (each other) lightly: their hands kissed
4. billiards (of balls) to touch (each other) lightly while moving
His phone pinged again, telling him that he had a text from Blaine. Kurt shook his head as he loaded the message.
What do the first two have in common? the message read. Kurt went back to the picture, reading and figuring out what Blaine wanted him to figure out within seconds.
Love. he texts back simply, still wondering why Blaine’s insisting on standing at the dictionary.
I’m saving that text forever. is Blaine’s answer, then he finally walks back to their table, grinning like a complete fool.
“Nice going,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “You’ve managed to convince me that Dave Karofsky doesn’t understand what a kiss is. Doesn’t change the fact that he physically did it.”
“You’re saying that now,” Blaine taps his pencil on Kurt’s nose, “but wait till you have your first real kiss. Then you’ll be thinking otherwise.”
“Are you volunteering?” Kurt’s taken aback by the coyness in his voice. Blaine doesn’t seem put off; he grins even wider and winks.
“Maybe.”
“At least you’re honest,” Kurt sighs.
------
When Kurt walks into pre-calc, there’s a Hershey kiss sitting on his desk.
He looks around at the boys already there, but none of them seem to notice. They’re all talking amongst themselves, as if it’s completely normal for someone to leave a piece of candy on someone else’s desk.
He’s halfway through scrutinizing every inch of the foil-wrapped chocolate when he remembers that this isn’t McKinley and he’s probably safe if he wants to eat it. But he doesn’t want to eat it, because that means eating the evidence that someone made a conscious decision to leave him something, because candy kisses don’t fall from the ceiling.
And yes, he just looked up at the ceiling to check.
He would never do this at McKinley, but Dalton seems pretty clean and safe, so he slides one hand under the desk, feeling around for a note telling him why there’s a piece of candy on his desk. His hand brushes against a piece of paper and he tugs at it, pulling out a folded piece of notebook paper.
kiss
- noun
a small, sometimes conical, bite-sized piece of chocolate, usually individually wrapped
Even though the only times he’s seen it is upside down as they take notes in the library, Kurt recognizes Blaine’s handwriting. Kurt is kind of in love with Blaine’s handwriting, actually, because while everything else about him seems perfect, he writes in a messy combination of print and cursive, letters squishing together and making it hard to read.
He folds the paper back up and slides it into the pocket of his jacket, still reveling in the fact that he and Blaine actually match now. He’s not normally one for matching outfits, but there’s something about the camaraderie or wearing a uniform that heightens his feeling of connectedness with Blaine. It doesn’t matter that the rest of the school is wearing the same thing. He and Blaine are the only two that matter.
He leaves the kiss on his desk all throughout class, grinning at it whenever he had a break between the different parts of the lesson. For once he was actually ahead of his Dalton classmates; he’d been in McKinley’s accelerated math program, which meant he was about two lessons ahead. That meant more time to grin at Blaine’s chocolate kiss.
On the way to the dining hall, he holds the kiss carefully in his hand. Blaine is already sitting at their usual table, flanked by Wes and David. Kurt walks over to them, tipping the kiss onto the table by his spot and sitting down, grinning.
Blaine catches his eye and winks. Wes and David look at each other and then start laughing. Kurt glares at both of them.
“I’m sorry,” Wes tries to wave this away with his hand. “You guys are just too funny.”
“How so?” Kurt asks, folding his arms huffily over his chest.
“It’s obvious you’ve totally got the hots for each other,” David insists. “Just jump him already!” He doesn’t look at either one of them when he says the last sentence, clearly not wanting to give the order to just one of them.
Kurt lets his head fall to the table, making sure not to crush Blaine’s kiss. He feels a hand on top of his head, so he turns to see Wes’s arm stretched out towards him.
“Oh, foolish young one,” Wes says, clearly holding back a laugh, “you’re allowed to make the first move.”
“And you,” he hears David chime in, voice sounding a bit muffled which could only mean he was speaking to Blaine, “shouldn’t worry so much. Kurt’s totally cool with your more than obvious crush on him, right Kurt?”
“Sure,” Kurt waves his hands in a gesture he hopes looks like an affirmation, his head still resting on the table.
“Aren’t you gonna eat your kiss?” David asks him, poking it back into his line of sight. Kurt, grinning evilly, sits up and looks directly at Blaine when he says, “Yes, I think I will.”
He makes quite a show out of unwrapping the chocolate, egged on by Wes and David’s sniggers. He picks it up, leaving the foil on the table and licks a circle around the middle of the chocolate, looking Blaine straight in the eyes while he does it. Blaine’s face goes from a smirk to a blank stare in about one second, and Kurt’s almost positive that his eyes get darker.
He pops the candy in his mouth, making an exaggerated, “mmmm,” noise. Wes pats him on the shoulder while David doubles over laughing. Kurt keeps staring at Blaine, their eyes locked, and he sucks on the chocolate a little rather than chewing and swallowing. His mouth gets almost uncomfortably covered with chocolate and he’s suddenly very in need of a glass of water. But he doesn’t move. He just sits there, staring at Blaine and Blaine just sits there, staring at him.
Kurt’s eyes drop to Blaine’s mouth, noting that his lips are parted and slightly pursed, as if he’s trying to kiss Kurt from across the table. However, the sudden loss of eye contact seems to make Blaine realize just what he’s doing, and he brings a hand up to his face, breathing heavily and blinking rapidly.
------
Kurt’s not entirely sure what’s going on when he walks in on Blaine in the student kitchen with a weird, sticky, white something in his hair. The boy is feverishly stirring something in a mixing bowl and there’s a blender that looks like it just exploded sitting next to the bowl on the counter.
From the state of the kitchen and Blaine’s hair, the blender probably did explode.
“Blaine, what are you doing?” Kurt asks. Blaine jumps, letting out a yell.
“Don’t do that!” he says, pushing the bowl away.
“Don’t do what?” Kurt puts his hands on his hips. “And don’t say ‘sneak up on me,’ because I was walking loudly enough for you to hear me.”
“Sure,” Blaine mutters, rolling his eyes and heaving an impressive sigh. Kurt walks over to him, sticking a finger into the bowl and tasting what’s inside.
“Um, what is that?” he asks, because while it’s sweet and tastes nice, he’s not quite sure what it’s supposed to be. Blaine heaves another sigh and slides a piece of paper towards him.
kiss
- noun
a baked confection of egg whites and confectioner’s sugar, served as a cookie
Kurt slides the paper back, an amused smile on his face.
“So, what, you’re trying to improvise the recipe with just that?” He’s finding it very hard to resist the urge to laugh.
“Maybe,” Blaine picks up the bowl and the spoon he’s mixing it with, turning his back on Kurt and going back to mixing the liquid-looking mixture ferociously. Kurt reaches around him to still his hand, heat going up his arm from where their fingers touched.
“Blaine, you need a whisk,” he tells the clearly clueless boy. “Do you know what a whisk is?”
“Uh,” Blaine wipes his forehead with the back of the hand holding the spoon, dripping egg and sugar on the floor and smearing the stuff that’s in his hair. “Maybe?”
“You need to stop using that as your default answer,” Kurt shakes his head and starts rummaging through the drawers. Finding what he’s looking for, he swaps with Blaine, taking away the spoon and handing him the whisk. He watches as Blaine returns to mixing, clearly not knowing how to use a whisk properly.
Kurt watches him for a few seconds, reveling in the fact that Blaine is so out of his element and yet he’s still trying so hard. Eventually he takes pity on the poor boy and steals the bowl and the whisk, showing him how to do it properly.
“There, see?” he shows Blaine the bowl. The mixture has started to fluff. “That’s how you do it.”
“But then how do I bake them?” Blaine asks.
“That is an excellent question,” Kurt points the whisk at him. “I’m inclined to just eat it raw, no matter how horrible raw eggs are for you. If we pair this with enough water breaks to combat the almost unbearable sugary taste, I think we can finish it.”
“You’re kind of my favorite,” Blaine’s smile is so dopey that it’s physically paining Kurt to not making fun of him for it. So instead, he decides to wipe that dopey look right off Blaine’s face. He brings the whisk up to his mouth and licks it, his tongue darting out quickly, wetting his lips at the same time.
Just like with the chocolate kiss, Blaine’s instantly distracted. He gets that same blank look on his face and his eyes darken and when Kurt hands him the whisk and says, “Lick it,” Blaine takes it and does exactly that without question.
He’s getting really good at this seducing thing, apparently.
But now Blaine’s licking the whisk, doing exactly the opposite of what Kurt had done. His tongue is hardly going back into his mouth at all, trailing lazy strokes down the metal handle and making Kurt think of all the things that tongue could be doing if Blaine weren’t holding onto a kitchen utensil.
He’s gaping like an idiot, getting a taste of his own medicine and wondering how it is possible for him to feel so turned on by a boy licking up raw eggs. When Blaine takes the bowl away from him, Kurt just makes an embarrassing, “guh,” noise, too busy staring at that mouth to realize that he no longer has something to hold onto.
And then Blaine throws the bowl on top of his head, and Kurt feels it dripping down his face and into his shirt and he’s going to kill Blaine, because it’s not like he can just pop this shirt into the washing machine and hope for the best.
His breath shudders and halts altogether when he feels something wet and warm slide across his cheek and up his face.
“How is it,” he manages to say, even with the egg and sugar mixture dripping down his face, “that you manage to lick me before you kiss me?”
“I blame you,” Blaine all but growls in his ear, a perfect imitation of Tulio from The Road to El Dorado, except he sounds more aroused than angry. And it’s kind of the perfect comparison, too, because they watched that movie three days ago and both agreed that Tulio and Miguel clearly had something going on.
He grabs Blaine by the tie and he’s about to either punch this boy or kiss him, but he never gets the chance because David picks right then of all moments to walk in and tell them that they’re all supposed to meet in fifteen minutes for an emergency Warblers practice, so they should probably both go take cold showers, like, pronto.
------
This time there’s no definition scrawled across a piece of paper or a failed attempt at baking. There’s no chocolates, there’s just the two of them sitting together outside in the grass, holding hands and leaning against a tree.
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” Kurt asks, because he kind of thinks this is the perfect opportunity and it’s going to waste. They’re all alone and it’s Sunday, so neither of them have anywhere to be.
“Why should I kiss you?” Blaine asks, making Kurt frown.
“Because you’ve only been dropping hints since forever that you want to,” he reasons. “And you know that I want to kiss you. So why not?”
“Why do I have to make the first move?” Blaine counters. “Why don’t you kiss me?”
Kurt hadn’t been prepared for the abrupt switch in roles, because in his mind, he’s always the one being kissed, not the one who initiates the whole thing. So he counters right back.
“And why do I have to make the first move?”
“Because of what happened last time someone kissed you,” Blaine says simply, making Kurt’s stomach lurch and now he’s totally not in the mood to kiss anyone anymore.
“Thanks for reminding me,” he grumbles, sitting up and tugging his hand out of Blaine’s grasp.
“No, hear me out,” Blaine follows, straightening up and linking their fingers again. “You told me about both of the times someone’s kissed you. Both times you were the one being kissed and both times you really didn’t want to be kissed. And I’m not about to add my name to that list.”
“But I want you to kiss me,” Kurt almost whines, leaning against Blaine and tucking his head into the crook of Blaine’s neck. “I’ve wanted you to since I met you.”
“And I will kiss you,” Blaine promises. “I’ll kiss you back, I promise. But this is special, Kurt, because now you’re with someone who you know will follow through and kiss you. All you have to do is decide if you really want it.”
“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Kurt tells Blaine, even though he already knows.
“First time for everything,” Blaine reasons. “I want you to take the first step this time, because this truly will be your first kiss if you do.”
It’s at that moment when everything Blaine’s been doing seems to make sense. Every one of those definitions and gestures meant that it’s up to Kurt to decide when he wants to have his first kiss, because he can’t have his first kiss until he kisses back. And Blaine wants him to be so sure that he wants it that he’s the one that initiates it.
The knowledge that Blaine probably would have kissed him long before if he hadn’t been dead set on Kurt making the first move is what spurs him into motion. He lifts his head, turning to look at Blaine and feeling so comfortable under his gaze that all his nerves seem to leave.
He tilts his head and presses his mouth against Blaine’s. He tries to remember what Brittany had done with her mouth when she kissed him - because she definitely knew what she was doing - but he found that it was hard to keep thinking with his lips on Blaine’s. So he tilts his head further to the side and moves his lips a little, trying to find a place where they fit.
Blaine meets him halfway, helping him find the spot where they fit together, his tongue just barely brushing against Kurt’s bottom lip. And that’s the tongue that Kurt’s obsessed with, that Kurt’s positively enamored with, so he feels his own tongue move as if on its own, trying to seek out Blaine’s so they could finally learn what the other tastes like.
He’s probably being way too forward and bold and he’s more than certain that this is a really sloppy kiss, but Blaine’s not pulling away and he’s actually letting Kurt put his tongue inside his mouth, even though Kurt has no idea what he’s supposed to do with it. It’s nothing what he thought a first kiss should be like, and yet even though his face is flushed and he’s probably never going to want to so much as look at Blaine ever again out of embarrassment, it’s his first real kiss and that’s really all that matters.
Their lips part as they both inhale deeply, and then they’re connected again. And this time Blaine’s showing Kurt just what he’s supposed to do. He’s showing him just how to move his lips and what he’s supposed to do with his tongue and - an aspect Kurt hadn’t even thought of - where to put his hands. Now they’re not just sitting awkwardly with their faces pressed together; Blaine’s guiding Kurt’s entire body closer to him, letting him run his hands through his hair and touch as much of him as he wants.
It’s so much more than a kiss, because there’s so much more involved than just lips. There are roaming hands and hearts beating so fast it’s almost painful and hips pressing against hips in a way that feels so good that Kurt could just stay like that and never move and he could die a happy man. And he wishes that he could tell Blaine all of this, but it’s clear that Blaine already knows, because he’s started making these noises and it’s then that Kurt realizes that he’s making them too.
They’re lost in each other’s bodies, completely submerged and floating together, and it’s like Kurt’s found a little door into Blaine’s mind. It’s like he’s inside Blaine’s head, learning that pressing down means one thing and grabbing means another and those noises Blaine’s making mean a whole number of things that he’ll have to learn in time.
And he knows he’ll have plenty of time to learn, because Blaine pulls back and whispers against his lips, “First time’s always the best, but that doesn’t mean we can’t keep trying to out-do it,” before pulling him back in.