All My Instincts 4/5+Epilogue
Title: All My Instincts 4/5 + Epilogue
Pairing/Characters: Kurt and Blaine
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG-13, NC-17 in epilogue
Summary: Anderberry Siblings Universe - In which Blaine and Rachel are siblings, Hiram and Leroy are their dads, and Kurt does not expect that meeting Rachel's younger brother will challenge what he knows to be true about being gay in highschool in Lima, Ohio.
Word Count: This Chapter is 5200 words of sugary sweet.
A/N: I loved this creative fandom trope when it first came out, there were amazing GIF's, and a few fics, but I wanted something longer and lingering...about the Blaine and Kurt in this universe meeting and falling and the nervous, excited build up of boy-meets-boy.
And I know fandom and our love of all things NC-17. This story is about the build-up, and the shifting energy, and the connection. There will be lots of tension and sexuality, but I have to keep it real to these fumbling 16 and 17 year old sophomore and junior Blaine and Kurt.
Update: This was going to be 5 chapters but our boys are insisting on taking things slowly. So the emotional arc of these two finding each other will be completed at the end of chapter 5. I am then going to write a significant epilogue that can also be a one shot (but it will be in this universe) chronicling the development of their sexual relationship over the year. They just aren't ready yet. And my inner Darren insists that it be organic.
I am very lucky to have two intelligent, appropriately critical, and creative betas for this story. Thank you both so much buckeyegrrl and wowbright
Reviews are my warm milk at bedtime. And I want to profusely thank you for all the warm milk you've been bringing. Please keep reviewing, I drink up every one.
And feel free to follow me on tumblr - gleekto@tumblr.com - we can play together!
Chapter 4
It’s 10 a.m., the morning after the night before, and Kurt feels like he’s floating down the stairs. He’s wrapped in his terrycloth robe smiling from ear to ear and giddy in a barely slept state. He feels ridiculous, and light, and so he needs to put on an air of nonchalance to cope with his fluttering heart. . His dad is already sitting at the table, drinking his coffee when he walks into the kitchen.
“Hi Dad,” Kurt smiles, wondering if he is completely transparent.
“Hey Kurt.” His dad looks up from the paper, eyes following Kurt as he makes his way to the coffeemaker to pour himself a cup.
“What?” Kurt looks at his dad again, playing dumb.
“What what?” Burt answers, “Aren’t you going to tell me how the dance was?”
Kurt goes with blasé. “Good,” is all he says as he turns around to put skim milk in his coffee.
“Good?” Burt is not at all convinced. “Don’t give me that, Kurt. You went to the dance with Blaine. How was it?”
Kurt turns around, leaning against the counter, and crosses his arms on his chest, letting the smile he’d been holding in spread across his face. “It was amazing, Dad,”-he tilts his head looking his dad in the eyes-“if you must know.”
Burt nods, “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he pauses. “You know, it’s good that you got to go to a dance... like that... with a guy, I mean, in high school.” Burt looks sheepishly at him.
Kurt just nods. “Yeah. Really good.” Kurt knows that his dad can see just how happy he is. They look at each other. “Aaaand...” Kurt continues, “I hope that you’ll also want to hear that I’m taking Blaine out again on Friday night-” Kurt pauses, waiting.
“Friday night?”
“Just because we have that family thing on Saturday this weekend anyways, so I sort of hoped it would be okay if we postponed family dinner just this once because I-” and his voice drifts off.
“Because you really really want to go,” Burt finishes for him and Kurt nods quietly. Burt sighs, “As long as you’re home by curfew,” Burt agrees reluctantly. Kurt smiles, and takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m happy for you, Kurt.”
Kurt loves his dad.
...
Rachel, Finn, and Kurt are still singing their final song for their Glee club ‘inspiration’ assignment on Wednesday evening when Kurt sees a Dalton-uniformed boy walk into the Hudson-Hummel living room.
“Blaine?” He knows he's smiling a little too widely to appear cool and collected. “I mean, I thought you had soccer practice today and your dad was coming to get Rachel.” Now he is making it painfully obvious that he has actually thought about exactly who was coming to pick Rachel up tonight. But Blaine just smiles warmly at him.
“Hey guys,” Blaine says, but he’s barely looking at Finn and Rachel. “Carole let me in. And soccer was cancelled-rain. So, you know, chauffeur duty calls.”
“And I’m sure that Dad had to push you kicking and screaming to come pick me up. You definitely would not have volunteered to come here or anything,” Rachel teases. It is so embarrassing. Blaine looks at his feet. Kurt bites his lower lip. There is silence. Kurt is ready to throttle her.
“It’s great of you to get her,” Finn tries to break the awkward silence. “Come on, Rachel, your stuff is in my room. Let’s get it.” Unfortunately, though he is well-intentioned, Finn is about as subtle as Rachel.
“Should Kurt and I go to a movie or something in the meantime?” Blaine looks at Rachel, trying so hard to get her back. Only it doesn’t work when the relationship is already out of the closet, so to speak.
“Much as I know you’d love that, Finn and I have already had time together today. But we’ll be sure to take our time, because I know you two haven’t seen each other for a few days now,” she sasses. Blaine looks like he’s ready to pounce.
“Come on, Rachel.” Finn practically pulls her up the stairs.
“Sorry about her.” Blaine looks down bashfully. “I know we’re not-”
“It’s okay.” Kurt cuts him off, willing him to stop talking about this awkward limbo that they’re in. “I don’t care. I should be grateful to be mocked like every other high school drama queen that I know.” Kurt laughs at himself and Blaine smiles and Kurt can’t remember what he was worried about ten seconds ago.
But just as the awkward is melting away, the front door swings open, “Kurt, Carole, I’m home,” and in walks his dad. Kurt thinks that they must look like they have just been caught doing something far more illicit than staring at each other in the living room from the look on Blaine’s face.
“Dad,” Kurt squeaks.
“Mr. Hummel?” Blaine is so tentative, but oh-so-polite. “I’m...it’s nice to meet you. I’m Blaine, Rachel’s brother-” He holds out his hand. And Kurt can’t help but think to himself that Blaine is really such a lovely young man.
“I know who you are-” Burt says gruffly, looking skeptically at Blaine. And Kurt knows that Burt’s reservedness is being easily misinterpreted for disapproval. Burt looks at Kurt, who’s smiling hopefully at him, willing him to take it down a notch. Burt sighs.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Blaine,” Burt extends his hand and Kurt knows he’s pleased about Blaine’s firm handshake, “Kurt’s told me a lot about you.”
“Dad-” Kurt warns.
“What? I’m not going to embarrass you, but I do believe you told me that you’re taking him out on Friday, right? I’m allowed to know something, right? You go to Dalton, like the Buckeyes.”
“Yes, sir,” Blaine nods enthusiastically, safe on common ground.
“That’s good,” Burt gives him a genuine smile now and Kurt is relieved, but apparently only for a second. “And you like Kurt?”
“Oh my god, Dad-”
“I do,” and wow. Blaine is looking at his dad straight in the eyes.
“So do I.” His dad looks right back. “I know you’ll remember that.” Kurt can feel Burt holding back his laughter, highly amused with himself.
“Give me a break, dad. Now please... go. Please.” Kurt knows he is tomato red.
“Aw come on. I’ve been waiting to tease you-”
“Dad-”
“Okay, okay. I’m going. Nice to meet you, Blaine.” Burt shakes his head, laughing and way too pleased with himself, as he walks up the stairs.
“Now it’s my turn to be sorry about that,” Kurt sighs.
“So then it’s my turn to say don’t be.” Blaine is close to him now, they’re alone, and Kurt can feel it all over his body. “He’s not too intimidating.”
“My dad? He is such a teddy bear-you have no idea,” Kurt laughs. “He’s just been waiting to mortify me, I think. Play the overprotective father.” Why can’t they get away from this topic of them that really isn’t, at least not yet?
“It’s okay that I said that, right?”
“That you like the Buckeyes?” Finally. Perfect diversion. “Definitely. He was thoroughly impressed.” But Blaine doesn’t bite.
“That I like you. ’Cause I do.” Blaine is being straightforward again, and Kurt is blushing again. Kurt breathes out and feels like he has no voice, so instead he lets his fingers brush the top of Blaine’s hand. He looks into Blaine’s beautiful eyes and quietly nods his head. Yes. Definitely okay.
…
Kurt’s phone buzzes just as he’s finishing his skin sloughing routine and he hopes it’s Rachel groveling with an apology for embarrassing them earlier-even if they had survived, unscathed if feeling slightly awkward. When he picks up his phone he does see an apology. But it’s not Rachel.
Blaine: Sorry I was quiet earlier. Between your dad and Rachel, you know. Anyway, sorry. I won’t be on Friday.
Blaine: I promise to bring my gift of the gab.
Kurt: Are you seriously apologizing?
Kurt: And who talks like that? Gift of the gab.
Kurt: Speaking of which, you can call me you know.
Because Kurt is not at all worried about earlier. He was happy to see Blaine-unexpected and awkward as it was-but actually, it would just be really nice to have a normal conversation, like they always do-when they’re not stuck in a limbo of ‘are we or aren’t we.’ And late at night on the phone is a nice new dimension. His phone rings.
“Hello there,” Kurt smiles into the phone.
“Hi,” Blaine sounds excited, but unsure.
“So let’s ignore the fact that we both want to lock up Rachel and my dad until at least Saturday, and let me tell you about Mr. Schue’s latest brilliant assignment idea for next week.” Kurt is proud of himself. Because he is getting closer to Blaine Anderson Berry. And he doesn’t feel scared.
“So what does the ever-creative Mr. Schue have up his sleeve?"
“A battle of the sexes.” Kurt pauses for dramatic effect, “I kid you not.”
“No.”
“Yes. And the worst part is that he is making me sing with the guys-”
“Seriously? I mean, you’d think he’d be glad that someone wants to break down stereotypes, showcase something outside the box.” Kurt smiles because Blaine thinks of him this way, as the guy that breaks down stereotypes, and not as the guy with the high voice.
“Have you met Mr. Schue, Blaine?”
“Once last year, when we came to watch Rachel at sectionals,” Blaine says. “He seemed nice.”
“Nice? Yes. Daring? Cutting edge? Not exactly. Pretty vanilla, actually,” Kurt laughs.
“Vanilla, huh? And I guess Kurt Hummel is definitely not vanilla.” Kurt can just feel Blaine’s amusement over the phone at the innuendo. How do they keep getting into these things? Kurt has never even tried to flirt with a guy before, but somehow they keep getting there with minimal effort.
“Blaine.”
“But seriously, though. It’s too bad that he feels he has to protect you, or something, that’s it, right?,”
Kurt hums in affirmation,”Yeah, and I think he doesn’t want to give the impression that he thinks the gay guy should be lumped with the girls. Protecting me and him from ridicule. ”
“Well, it’s too bad because you really don’t need protecting.” This time Blaine gets them out of the awkward, with-Wow. What did Blaine just say? Because whatever they are, Kurt knows that Blaine is seeing him for who he really is. He feels his eyes tear but he knows Blaine can’t see.
“Blaine.” He hears his voice crack and wonders if Blaine notices. “It’s true you know,” he finally says. “But everyone always assumes the opposite-gay guy who everyone knows is girly, and all the baggage that goes with that. Sissy, weak, you know.”
“Well, all those people have obviously never seen you juggle Sai swords,” Blaine teases affectionately. “I think the opposite may be true for me- you know, gay guy with gay dads, support all around, plays sports, likes football,” he laughs. “He must be just like everybody else, no big deal that he’s gay. Why would I need any support?” Blaine asks rhetorically.
Kurt sighs. “But it’s never the same... as being straight, I mean. You still have to be gay in a world that isn’t, gay dads or mechanic dad. ”
“Never the same,” Blaine agrees. There’s a pause for a second and then Blaine asks, “Am I right in thinking that despite our very different families, you and I both grew up with the people we loved recognizing we at least could be gay-”
“Well, in my case, I don’t think my dad had many doubts-” and Blaine laughs because Oh Kurt.
“What’d he say? When you told him?”
“Okay,” Kurt begins. “So last year, after my stint as kicker on the football team-”
“WHAT? Kurt, oh my god-” and Kurt relishes every second of shock he can feel through the phone, and then he hears Blaine mumble, “If you didn’t have me sure already-”
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing. And WHAT?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you that story after- which is an intriguing one considering my general disdain of all things extra-curricular and all things football,” Kurt muses, “But anyway,” Kurt realizes how easy and long this conversation is going to be, as he watches the time on his clock change to 10:27 p.m. “After my first and only football game, I told him that I was gay. He said that he’d known since I was three when I told him that all I wanted for my birthday was a pair of sensible heels.” Kurt knows it’s funny and he listens as Blaine laughs and laughs so much he has to put down the phone to catch his breath. “You okay?”
“Yes, yes. Recovering. Kurt. Oh my god. You must have been the cutest three-year-old ever.” Kurt’s cheeks are starting to hurt he is smiling so much. Who knew talking about being gay is actually not at all a drama fest when you’re talking to the right person.
“And you? There must’ve been like pressure to be gay or something,” Kurt wonders out loud.
“Not exactly,” Blaine laughs,.“That would be a unique experience, though. Honestly, I just think my dads wanted me to be who I am, and they suspected, so. But they still let me tell them. You know-agency and all that.”
“So?”
“In eighth grade, two years ago, when I was taking my friend, Jenny, to the fall dance at my public school, I figured it was a reasonable opportunity. I really did not want it to be a big deal, because you know, they’re my parents, and just, no. So I basically told them I was going with her, but that she wasn’t a real date or anything because ... I’m gay.” He laughs at the memory. “No pomp and circumstance. That was it. And they said ‘Yes.’ And I said, ‘Yes.’ And that’s the end of that story. Honestly, I think they’re more excited now that I-” and he stops himself and Kurt finds himself again wondering why they keep having to go here, but then his heart seems kind of fluttery, which isn’t a bad feeling at all.
“Now that you had a real date to the fall dance,” Kurt tries.
“Exactly.” And the silence between them is full and warm and flirtatious and Kurt once again wants to bottle it up as a feeling he wants to hold on to forever.
...
Friday night arrives.
There are things that Kurt lets himself think about - what to wear (fitted white Henley top with the black vest and his blue jeans, definitely his new jeans), where to go (Rent, the movie, is playing for a limited run at Lima’s only repertory theatre), how to be creative and not corny (bake homemade fudge brownies, keep them away from Finn, bring them as a surprise for when they’re sitting in West Lima Park after the movie, weather permitting of course-Blaine just thinks they’re going out for dessert), and what time he should pick Blaine up (7:30 for an 8:00 movie).
And there are things that Kurt does not let himself think about - whether Blaine is feeling the same way about their date as he is (nervous, and excited, and nervous but really excited), and whether they will hold hands at the movie (and logistically, how does one do that with popcorn?). So he also doesn’t let himself think about whether they should get popcorn. He buys mints just in case they do, but he doesn’t think about the fact that he buys mints either. And most of all, he does not let himself think about kissing Blaine Anderson Berry. Not at all.
Some things just need to be left for the night to decide.
“Kurt, hi!” Blaine opens the door to his house, eyes bright and shining as always. He’s wearing a burgundy cardigan on top of a white shirt, with hipster, rolled-up blue jeans. No socks. Hair slightly less gelled-down than usual. He’s gorgeous. It’s 7:36 p.m. and here they are.
“Hi.” Kurt’s face has a quiet smile. He’s taking him in. “You ready?”
“Totally.” Blaine grabs his wallet and a light jacket. “Let’s go before anyone gets to-”
“Blaine, did you get the eggs on your way home like I asked-" Hiram’s voice gets louder as he walks out from the kitchen into the hallway by the door. “Oh Kurt, hi.” He pauses, looking disapprovingly at his son. “Blaine, were you trying to leave quietly before I could even-”Kurt sees Blaine’s eyes looking pleadingly at his dad.
“-say hi,” Hiram finishes.
“Hi, Mr. Berry. Sorry we’re in a rush to get to the 8 o’clock show at the Paradise. Sorry for not staying longer.”
“Ooh - the Paradise. What’s playing?”
“Rent.” Kurt can tell Hiram is amused at the choice.
“One of our favorites,” Hiram says.
“Yes, Dad, he knows. So we’re, um, going to go now, okay?” Although Kurt would be happy to watch Blaine squirm a little longer.
“Of course, just let me get a pic-”
“Dad!”
“Kidding, kidding.” Hiram’s eyes are warm. “Have fun you two. And Blaine, midnight, okay?”
“Thanks dad.” And Blaine shuts the door behind them. Finally outside on an unseasonably warm fall night. Only light jackets required.
“Sorry,” Blaine apologizes.
“Don’t be,” Kurt says like last time. And they smile because they know they’re lucky that they’re in that group of kids whose parents support their attempts at growing up.
...
When they get to the theatre, Kurt asks for two tickets. Blaine takes out his wallet and Kurt glares. “I don’t think so. This is my date.”
“I’m paying for dessert, then,” Blaine insists. “Where are we going, anyway?”
Kurt smiles sweetly at him. “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” Blaine pouts but his eyes are smiling.
When Kurt returns from the washroom, Blaine has bought them popcorn. One popcorn for both of them. So they are getting popcorn. And sharing. Kurt does not think about how this popcorn predicament will impact whether or not they hold hands. Because obviously Blaine is not thinking about it. He just bought the popcorn.
Approximately twenty-six minutes into the movie, Angel is belting out about killing dogs and living in the moment, and Kurt is relieved that he has seen Rent many times because he’s having a hard time concentrating. Because apparently, he is thinking about holding hands with Blaine. They’re both munching popcorn less than enthusiastically, and of course, their hands have brushed four times in the popcorn bag. Of course. He thinks that he sees Blaine quickly glance over to him each time, but he looks straight ahead. He’s nervous. It’s silly. But he is. Even though Blaine has held his hand before, at the dance, that was holding hands with a purpose to lead to the dance floor. This would just be holding hands. No higher purpose.
After about another twenty minutes of popcorn games, and Blaine singing quietly along to Mimi lighting candles-which Kurt realizes would have annoyed him if it was anyone else at all-he finally says, “I’ve had enough popcorn. Do you want the bag?”
“No, no. Me too. I’m done.” Blaine puts down the bag of popcorn, hands Kurt a napkin, and takes one himself. Popcorn problem solved. But now what?
Kurt puts his hands on his thighs, face down, unclasped, waiting. He discreetly peers over at Blaine, who he sees has done the same. And he feels each time Blaine looks at him. And he feels himself not glance back. Instead he lets his hand slip down to the edge of the seat closest to Blaine. He knows Blaine notices.
Seven minutes later, Blaine copies him. And now their hands are barely inches apart. And Kurt just really wants to hold his hand.
“Kurt.” Blaine turns and looks at him, and this time Kurt has to look back. But Blaine doesn’t say anything, and instead he reaches out and gently places his hand on top of Kurt’s. Finally.
Kurt smiles at him and shifts his hand so they can hold hands properly. Blaine smiles back and runs his thumb along the back of Kurt’s hand.
By the time the cast is celebrating eating tofu, masturbation, and all things bohemian, Kurt and Blaine have slightly turned their bodies toward each other’s, four hands clasped. Sometimes rubbing gently, sometimes interlaced fingers, sometimes resting on each other’s forearms-and Kurt is secretly glad he went with the tight white shirt and not the restrictive button down because Blaine’s fingers really do feel so nice tracing circles along the skin of his forearms. Kurt is aware of each different touch between them. Holding hands is amazing.
Kurt knew that going to a movie was a good idea.
…
When the credits roll and the lights come on, Kurt and Blaine smile at each other shyly, reluctantly watching their hands unclasp as they shuffle to get their jackets. When Blaine turns around to get his scarf, Kurt quickly wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans and hopes Blaine doesn’t notice. He doesn’t think he does because instead Blaine makes his way to the end of the row and holds out his hand for Kurt to take. Kurt thinks he sees a flash of nervousness in Blaine’s eyes but it quickly fades into sweet warmth as Kurt walks up to him and slips his hand into his. He could swear that the fifty-something gay couple two rows behind them is giving Blaine a thumbs up, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care. They walk back to Kurt’s car like this. And all Kurt can think of is that he is doing swingy-hands with Blaine.
“So where am I taking you for dessert?” Blaine asks as they drive away from the theatre.
“You’ll see,” Kurt says just as he turns into the lane entering West Lima Park. It’s the biggest park in Lima - two children’s playgrounds, bike paths, walking paths, and lots of beautiful trees almost done changing colors for the fall, orange and red leaves strewn everywhere.
“Kurt?” Blaine looks at him. “I didn’t know there was a dessert place in West Lima Park-”
“There is,” Kurt says in all seriousness. “I just have to find the spot. I think it’s just after this turn- yes!” Kurt pulls over into a makeshift parking spot underneath a tree. They had been on a slow incline, and even from inside the car, they can see the city lights of Lima below in contrast to the quiet dark of the park.
“Kurt?”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Kurt says, “but you’ll have to pay for dessert next time.” Kurt slides out of the driver’s seat. He opens the trunk and takes something out before gesturing for Blaine to join him. Blaine looks confused but highly interested as he opens his door. Kurt has already started climbing on the Navigator, boosting himself up on to the roof. “Come on up,” he says, smiling. “This is it. We’re here.” When Blaine looks up at him with squinched eyebrows, Kurt adds, “This is the most beautiful spot in our backwards, provincial little town.” Blaine nods and climbs onto the tire, and Kurt grabs his hand to pull him the rest of the way up to the car roof. They slide to the front of the roof, legs dangling over the windshield, and Kurt pulls a warm wool blanket over both of them, revealing a blue cookie tin with a red bow on it. “This is our dessert place, picnic blanket and all,” Kurt explains, handing Blaine the tin. “Homemade fudge brownies with mocha icing.” Blaine looks stunned. “I apologize, but they’re not the low-fat version-”
“Kurt-” Blaine interrupts him. “I-I can’t believe you did this-brought me here, baked brownies.” Blaine shakes his head and looks down, biting his lip. “I thought we were going to Breadstix or something.”
“Please, Blaine Anderson Berry. You should never underestimate me.” Kurt smiles coyly, scooting closer, reaching for a brownie and a napkin.
“Clearly,” Blaine shakes his head in disbelief and takes a first bite. “Oh my god, Kurt. These are so good. You made these? You should sell them!” Blaine is effusive.
“Yeah,” Kurt shrugs. “I could probably pay for college from Finn’s contribution alone.” Blaine smiles at him, taking another bite.
They’re quiet for a minute, eating brownies, and Blaine reaches out from under the blanket with his free hand to take Kurt’s back in his. “This is amazing,” Blaine breathes out. “You’re amazing.” Kurt feels Blaine’s grip shift so he can interlace their fingers again.
“Well, I can’t help it.” Kurt runs his thumb along Blaine’s fingers as he talks. “My brownies have that effect on people.”
“Kurt.” Blaine just looks at him and takes his last bite of brownie. He looks down nervously, tucking his chocolate-stained hand in his lap under the blanket.
They sit like that for a few minutes, Kurt finishing his brownie, Blaine alternating glancing at him shyly and looking away, but holding his hand solidly. “Kurt?”
“Mmmm?” Kurt looks over at him. He’s so content, lost in the moment of Blaine, and brownies, and his idea working, and holding hands outside, on top of the car on a warm fall night, in his favorite spot in Lima.
“I’m going to keep my promise now, okay?” Blaine asks nervously.
“Promise?”
“Not to kiss you on the cheek,” Blaine says hopefully, tentatively.
Oh my god, that promise, Kurt’s heart races. “Oh, that promise.” A beat passes between them. “I think that would be okay.”
They look at each other. Blaine’s eyes flutter from Kurt’s eyes to his mouth and back again, and he scoots even closer, if that’s possible. Blaine tilts his head and Kurt feels like he’s in a teen romance movie that he could never quite picture for himself. Blaine lifts his hand to Kurt’s neck, gently pulling him in. Blaine’s hand is cold and Kurt feels goosebumps trickle down his back.
“Kurt, I want-” but the sentence doesn’t get finished because their eyes close and Blaine’s lips are on his. Barely at first-the kiss is so soft and Kurt can feel Blaine’s warm breath on his lips as they pull apart for a second and open their eyes, checking. Kurt lets out a giggle with nervous energy, and Blaine just looks down and blushes, then says, “Come here.”
“Okay.” Kurt breathes out and this time they’re both reaching out, hands unlaced and moving instead to each other’s faces, necks, arms. Their mouths find each other’s, exploring, so sure of what they want and so unsure of what they’re doing. There’s relief because this. Finally. Kurt opens his mouth because he wants to, and oh-this is the big deal about French kissing. Blaine’s tongue is soft, and chocolate, and in his mouth. Blaine licks gently across the inside of Kurt’s lips, tracing them, waking up parts of Kurt that he didn’t even know were there. The palate of his mouth, the inside of his lips, that spot along his jaw, when Blaine dares to string wet kisses along his throat and neck. He loves it.
Kurt is kissing Blaine- He can taste mocha icing, and lips, and boy, and this boy, and feel nerves and electricity. It’s delicious. When they finally pause to take in the moment, their hands are on each other’s arms, they’re staring at each other, stunned. Elated.
“So, Blaine Anderson Berry,” Kurt starts. He’s giggling with nerves, being so turned on, and the newness of it all. “I believe you’re now a sophomore, gay, and most definitely have kissed another boy,” Kurt teases. Blaine looks at Kurt’s lips again flirtatiously.
“So have you, Kurt Hummel,” Blaine answers back, eyes still staring at his mouth.
“Yes, well. As you say, I am a year older and wiser than you are. It’s to be expected.”
“Cocky.” Blaine kisses him again, their lips crashing-no reason to hold back now. There are lips, and tongues, and teeth biting gently at Kurt's lower lip. “Too much?”
“Not at all.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“Cocky.” But Blaine just grabs him again.
Kurt never understood why in fairytales, the sleeping princess could always be woken up from such a deep slumber with just a kiss. Now he understands.
...
Kurt walks in his door at 12:17 a.m. He arrived at Blaine’s house at 11:58 p.m., but they decided that they had time for at least three more minutes of kissing on Blaine’s porch without anyone getting into trouble. Kurt’s grateful that his house is dark and asleep, leaving him to bask in the emotions of his night. He crawls into bed, skin moisturized, teeth brushed around 12:30, vaguely wondering if Blaine will text, but he’s soon overtaken by sleep as thoughts of Blaine softly kissing his neck fade into quiet.
As it turns out, though, spending the night kissing Blaine will wake him up, body coursing with adrenaline, at 5:13 in the morning. He tries to will himself back to sleep, but it’s not happening. And maybe his body doesn’t want it to happen because it prefers replaying the look on Blaine’s hopeful face when he asked if he could kiss him. Kurt smiles to himself, abandoning any notions of more sleep, and he reaches for his phone.
There’s a new message. From Blaine. Sent at 2:36 a.m. Blaine.
Blaine: I know you’re sleeping. I’m not (obviously). I really had an amazing time tonight.
Blaine: Brownie picnic on top of the car overlooking Lima- Best idea ever. That was my favorite part.
Blaine: That’s not completely true.
Blaine: Kissing you was my actual favorite part.
Blaine: I didn’t know it was going to feel like this. Good, I mean. So good.
Blaine: Too much? Wish I could recall. Delete, okay?
Blaine: But is it okay to say that I hope you have group French and Glee assignments this week?
Blaine: Because I can’t really wait until we have time next weekend to see you again.
Blaine: If you want to see me again, I mean. Of course only if you want to.
Blaine: I’ll stop talking now. I’m rambling and delirious. Goodnight Kurt.
Kurt reads the ten texts sent in a row, and he feels his face flush and his heart race all over again. He’s not sure it ever stopped but there are these surges- at a memory, a sensation, or, as it seems, a text. He starts typing.
Kurt: I was asleep. But I’m now up at the ungodly hour of 5:26 a.m. I hope you’re asleep now.
Kurt: I’ll bake brownies every time if they have that effect.
Kurt: I’m sure I can convince Madame Green that we should do French skits in pairs this week. I’ll have to tell Rachel that you’re insisting that I work with her yet again.
Kurt: I am sure it will take us at least an evening of homework to keep our stellar grades up.
Kurt: Of course I want to, silly. Of course.
Kurt: Message definitely not deleted.
Kurt: You were my favorite part.
He hits send one last time before crawling back into his bed, rolling onto his stomach and covering his face with his pillow. He wants to scream but he doesn’t. He just hugs the pillow to him tightly.
Because he also didn’t know that it was going to feel this good.
Pairing/Characters: Kurt and Blaine
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG-13, NC-17 in epilogue
Summary: Anderberry Siblings Universe - In which Blaine and Rachel are siblings, Hiram and Leroy are their dads, and Kurt does not expect that meeting Rachel's younger brother will challenge what he knows to be true about being gay in highschool in Lima, Ohio.
Word Count: This Chapter is 5200 words of sugary sweet.
A/N: I loved this creative fandom trope when it first came out, there were amazing GIF's, and a few fics, but I wanted something longer and lingering...about the Blaine and Kurt in this universe meeting and falling and the nervous, excited build up of boy-meets-boy.
And I know fandom and our love of all things NC-17. This story is about the build-up, and the shifting energy, and the connection. There will be lots of tension and sexuality, but I have to keep it real to these fumbling 16 and 17 year old sophomore and junior Blaine and Kurt.
Update: This was going to be 5 chapters but our boys are insisting on taking things slowly. So the emotional arc of these two finding each other will be completed at the end of chapter 5. I am then going to write a significant epilogue that can also be a one shot (but it will be in this universe) chronicling the development of their sexual relationship over the year. They just aren't ready yet. And my inner Darren insists that it be organic.
I am very lucky to have two intelligent, appropriately critical, and creative betas for this story. Thank you both so much buckeyegrrl and wowbright
Reviews are my warm milk at bedtime. And I want to profusely thank you for all the warm milk you've been bringing. Please keep reviewing, I drink up every one.
And feel free to follow me on tumblr - gleekto@tumblr.com - we can play together!
Chapter 4
It’s 10 a.m., the morning after the night before, and Kurt feels like he’s floating down the stairs. He’s wrapped in his terrycloth robe smiling from ear to ear and giddy in a barely slept state. He feels ridiculous, and light, and so he needs to put on an air of nonchalance to cope with his fluttering heart. . His dad is already sitting at the table, drinking his coffee when he walks into the kitchen.
“Hi Dad,” Kurt smiles, wondering if he is completely transparent.
“Hey Kurt.” His dad looks up from the paper, eyes following Kurt as he makes his way to the coffeemaker to pour himself a cup.
“What?” Kurt looks at his dad again, playing dumb.
“What what?” Burt answers, “Aren’t you going to tell me how the dance was?”
Kurt goes with blasé. “Good,” is all he says as he turns around to put skim milk in his coffee.
“Good?” Burt is not at all convinced. “Don’t give me that, Kurt. You went to the dance with Blaine. How was it?”
Kurt turns around, leaning against the counter, and crosses his arms on his chest, letting the smile he’d been holding in spread across his face. “It was amazing, Dad,”-he tilts his head looking his dad in the eyes-“if you must know.”
Burt nods, “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he pauses. “You know, it’s good that you got to go to a dance... like that... with a guy, I mean, in high school.” Burt looks sheepishly at him.
Kurt just nods. “Yeah. Really good.” Kurt knows that his dad can see just how happy he is. They look at each other. “Aaaand...” Kurt continues, “I hope that you’ll also want to hear that I’m taking Blaine out again on Friday night-” Kurt pauses, waiting.
“Friday night?”
“Just because we have that family thing on Saturday this weekend anyways, so I sort of hoped it would be okay if we postponed family dinner just this once because I-” and his voice drifts off.
“Because you really really want to go,” Burt finishes for him and Kurt nods quietly. Burt sighs, “As long as you’re home by curfew,” Burt agrees reluctantly. Kurt smiles, and takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m happy for you, Kurt.”
Kurt loves his dad.
...
Rachel, Finn, and Kurt are still singing their final song for their Glee club ‘inspiration’ assignment on Wednesday evening when Kurt sees a Dalton-uniformed boy walk into the Hudson-Hummel living room.
“Blaine?” He knows he's smiling a little too widely to appear cool and collected. “I mean, I thought you had soccer practice today and your dad was coming to get Rachel.” Now he is making it painfully obvious that he has actually thought about exactly who was coming to pick Rachel up tonight. But Blaine just smiles warmly at him.
“Hey guys,” Blaine says, but he’s barely looking at Finn and Rachel. “Carole let me in. And soccer was cancelled-rain. So, you know, chauffeur duty calls.”
“And I’m sure that Dad had to push you kicking and screaming to come pick me up. You definitely would not have volunteered to come here or anything,” Rachel teases. It is so embarrassing. Blaine looks at his feet. Kurt bites his lower lip. There is silence. Kurt is ready to throttle her.
“It’s great of you to get her,” Finn tries to break the awkward silence. “Come on, Rachel, your stuff is in my room. Let’s get it.” Unfortunately, though he is well-intentioned, Finn is about as subtle as Rachel.
“Should Kurt and I go to a movie or something in the meantime?” Blaine looks at Rachel, trying so hard to get her back. Only it doesn’t work when the relationship is already out of the closet, so to speak.
“Much as I know you’d love that, Finn and I have already had time together today. But we’ll be sure to take our time, because I know you two haven’t seen each other for a few days now,” she sasses. Blaine looks like he’s ready to pounce.
“Come on, Rachel.” Finn practically pulls her up the stairs.
“Sorry about her.” Blaine looks down bashfully. “I know we’re not-”
“It’s okay.” Kurt cuts him off, willing him to stop talking about this awkward limbo that they’re in. “I don’t care. I should be grateful to be mocked like every other high school drama queen that I know.” Kurt laughs at himself and Blaine smiles and Kurt can’t remember what he was worried about ten seconds ago.
But just as the awkward is melting away, the front door swings open, “Kurt, Carole, I’m home,” and in walks his dad. Kurt thinks that they must look like they have just been caught doing something far more illicit than staring at each other in the living room from the look on Blaine’s face.
“Dad,” Kurt squeaks.
“Mr. Hummel?” Blaine is so tentative, but oh-so-polite. “I’m...it’s nice to meet you. I’m Blaine, Rachel’s brother-” He holds out his hand. And Kurt can’t help but think to himself that Blaine is really such a lovely young man.
“I know who you are-” Burt says gruffly, looking skeptically at Blaine. And Kurt knows that Burt’s reservedness is being easily misinterpreted for disapproval. Burt looks at Kurt, who’s smiling hopefully at him, willing him to take it down a notch. Burt sighs.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Blaine,” Burt extends his hand and Kurt knows he’s pleased about Blaine’s firm handshake, “Kurt’s told me a lot about you.”
“Dad-” Kurt warns.
“What? I’m not going to embarrass you, but I do believe you told me that you’re taking him out on Friday, right? I’m allowed to know something, right? You go to Dalton, like the Buckeyes.”
“Yes, sir,” Blaine nods enthusiastically, safe on common ground.
“That’s good,” Burt gives him a genuine smile now and Kurt is relieved, but apparently only for a second. “And you like Kurt?”
“Oh my god, Dad-”
“I do,” and wow. Blaine is looking at his dad straight in the eyes.
“So do I.” His dad looks right back. “I know you’ll remember that.” Kurt can feel Burt holding back his laughter, highly amused with himself.
“Give me a break, dad. Now please... go. Please.” Kurt knows he is tomato red.
“Aw come on. I’ve been waiting to tease you-”
“Dad-”
“Okay, okay. I’m going. Nice to meet you, Blaine.” Burt shakes his head, laughing and way too pleased with himself, as he walks up the stairs.
“Now it’s my turn to be sorry about that,” Kurt sighs.
“So then it’s my turn to say don’t be.” Blaine is close to him now, they’re alone, and Kurt can feel it all over his body. “He’s not too intimidating.”
“My dad? He is such a teddy bear-you have no idea,” Kurt laughs. “He’s just been waiting to mortify me, I think. Play the overprotective father.” Why can’t they get away from this topic of them that really isn’t, at least not yet?
“It’s okay that I said that, right?”
“That you like the Buckeyes?” Finally. Perfect diversion. “Definitely. He was thoroughly impressed.” But Blaine doesn’t bite.
“That I like you. ’Cause I do.” Blaine is being straightforward again, and Kurt is blushing again. Kurt breathes out and feels like he has no voice, so instead he lets his fingers brush the top of Blaine’s hand. He looks into Blaine’s beautiful eyes and quietly nods his head. Yes. Definitely okay.
…
Kurt’s phone buzzes just as he’s finishing his skin sloughing routine and he hopes it’s Rachel groveling with an apology for embarrassing them earlier-even if they had survived, unscathed if feeling slightly awkward. When he picks up his phone he does see an apology. But it’s not Rachel.
Blaine: Sorry I was quiet earlier. Between your dad and Rachel, you know. Anyway, sorry. I won’t be on Friday.
Blaine: I promise to bring my gift of the gab.
Kurt: Are you seriously apologizing?
Kurt: And who talks like that? Gift of the gab.
Kurt: Speaking of which, you can call me you know.
Because Kurt is not at all worried about earlier. He was happy to see Blaine-unexpected and awkward as it was-but actually, it would just be really nice to have a normal conversation, like they always do-when they’re not stuck in a limbo of ‘are we or aren’t we.’ And late at night on the phone is a nice new dimension. His phone rings.
“Hello there,” Kurt smiles into the phone.
“Hi,” Blaine sounds excited, but unsure.
“So let’s ignore the fact that we both want to lock up Rachel and my dad until at least Saturday, and let me tell you about Mr. Schue’s latest brilliant assignment idea for next week.” Kurt is proud of himself. Because he is getting closer to Blaine Anderson Berry. And he doesn’t feel scared.
“So what does the ever-creative Mr. Schue have up his sleeve?"
“A battle of the sexes.” Kurt pauses for dramatic effect, “I kid you not.”
“No.”
“Yes. And the worst part is that he is making me sing with the guys-”
“Seriously? I mean, you’d think he’d be glad that someone wants to break down stereotypes, showcase something outside the box.” Kurt smiles because Blaine thinks of him this way, as the guy that breaks down stereotypes, and not as the guy with the high voice.
“Have you met Mr. Schue, Blaine?”
“Once last year, when we came to watch Rachel at sectionals,” Blaine says. “He seemed nice.”
“Nice? Yes. Daring? Cutting edge? Not exactly. Pretty vanilla, actually,” Kurt laughs.
“Vanilla, huh? And I guess Kurt Hummel is definitely not vanilla.” Kurt can just feel Blaine’s amusement over the phone at the innuendo. How do they keep getting into these things? Kurt has never even tried to flirt with a guy before, but somehow they keep getting there with minimal effort.
“Blaine.”
“But seriously, though. It’s too bad that he feels he has to protect you, or something, that’s it, right?,”
Kurt hums in affirmation,”Yeah, and I think he doesn’t want to give the impression that he thinks the gay guy should be lumped with the girls. Protecting me and him from ridicule. ”
“Well, it’s too bad because you really don’t need protecting.” This time Blaine gets them out of the awkward, with-Wow. What did Blaine just say? Because whatever they are, Kurt knows that Blaine is seeing him for who he really is. He feels his eyes tear but he knows Blaine can’t see.
“Blaine.” He hears his voice crack and wonders if Blaine notices. “It’s true you know,” he finally says. “But everyone always assumes the opposite-gay guy who everyone knows is girly, and all the baggage that goes with that. Sissy, weak, you know.”
“Well, all those people have obviously never seen you juggle Sai swords,” Blaine teases affectionately. “I think the opposite may be true for me- you know, gay guy with gay dads, support all around, plays sports, likes football,” he laughs. “He must be just like everybody else, no big deal that he’s gay. Why would I need any support?” Blaine asks rhetorically.
Kurt sighs. “But it’s never the same... as being straight, I mean. You still have to be gay in a world that isn’t, gay dads or mechanic dad. ”
“Never the same,” Blaine agrees. There’s a pause for a second and then Blaine asks, “Am I right in thinking that despite our very different families, you and I both grew up with the people we loved recognizing we at least could be gay-”
“Well, in my case, I don’t think my dad had many doubts-” and Blaine laughs because Oh Kurt.
“What’d he say? When you told him?”
“Okay,” Kurt begins. “So last year, after my stint as kicker on the football team-”
“WHAT? Kurt, oh my god-” and Kurt relishes every second of shock he can feel through the phone, and then he hears Blaine mumble, “If you didn’t have me sure already-”
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing. And WHAT?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you that story after- which is an intriguing one considering my general disdain of all things extra-curricular and all things football,” Kurt muses, “But anyway,” Kurt realizes how easy and long this conversation is going to be, as he watches the time on his clock change to 10:27 p.m. “After my first and only football game, I told him that I was gay. He said that he’d known since I was three when I told him that all I wanted for my birthday was a pair of sensible heels.” Kurt knows it’s funny and he listens as Blaine laughs and laughs so much he has to put down the phone to catch his breath. “You okay?”
“Yes, yes. Recovering. Kurt. Oh my god. You must have been the cutest three-year-old ever.” Kurt’s cheeks are starting to hurt he is smiling so much. Who knew talking about being gay is actually not at all a drama fest when you’re talking to the right person.
“And you? There must’ve been like pressure to be gay or something,” Kurt wonders out loud.
“Not exactly,” Blaine laughs,.“That would be a unique experience, though. Honestly, I just think my dads wanted me to be who I am, and they suspected, so. But they still let me tell them. You know-agency and all that.”
“So?”
“In eighth grade, two years ago, when I was taking my friend, Jenny, to the fall dance at my public school, I figured it was a reasonable opportunity. I really did not want it to be a big deal, because you know, they’re my parents, and just, no. So I basically told them I was going with her, but that she wasn’t a real date or anything because ... I’m gay.” He laughs at the memory. “No pomp and circumstance. That was it. And they said ‘Yes.’ And I said, ‘Yes.’ And that’s the end of that story. Honestly, I think they’re more excited now that I-” and he stops himself and Kurt finds himself again wondering why they keep having to go here, but then his heart seems kind of fluttery, which isn’t a bad feeling at all.
“Now that you had a real date to the fall dance,” Kurt tries.
“Exactly.” And the silence between them is full and warm and flirtatious and Kurt once again wants to bottle it up as a feeling he wants to hold on to forever.
...
Friday night arrives.
There are things that Kurt lets himself think about - what to wear (fitted white Henley top with the black vest and his blue jeans, definitely his new jeans), where to go (Rent, the movie, is playing for a limited run at Lima’s only repertory theatre), how to be creative and not corny (bake homemade fudge brownies, keep them away from Finn, bring them as a surprise for when they’re sitting in West Lima Park after the movie, weather permitting of course-Blaine just thinks they’re going out for dessert), and what time he should pick Blaine up (7:30 for an 8:00 movie).
And there are things that Kurt does not let himself think about - whether Blaine is feeling the same way about their date as he is (nervous, and excited, and nervous but really excited), and whether they will hold hands at the movie (and logistically, how does one do that with popcorn?). So he also doesn’t let himself think about whether they should get popcorn. He buys mints just in case they do, but he doesn’t think about the fact that he buys mints either. And most of all, he does not let himself think about kissing Blaine Anderson Berry. Not at all.
Some things just need to be left for the night to decide.
“Kurt, hi!” Blaine opens the door to his house, eyes bright and shining as always. He’s wearing a burgundy cardigan on top of a white shirt, with hipster, rolled-up blue jeans. No socks. Hair slightly less gelled-down than usual. He’s gorgeous. It’s 7:36 p.m. and here they are.
“Hi.” Kurt’s face has a quiet smile. He’s taking him in. “You ready?”
“Totally.” Blaine grabs his wallet and a light jacket. “Let’s go before anyone gets to-”
“Blaine, did you get the eggs on your way home like I asked-" Hiram’s voice gets louder as he walks out from the kitchen into the hallway by the door. “Oh Kurt, hi.” He pauses, looking disapprovingly at his son. “Blaine, were you trying to leave quietly before I could even-”Kurt sees Blaine’s eyes looking pleadingly at his dad.
“-say hi,” Hiram finishes.
“Hi, Mr. Berry. Sorry we’re in a rush to get to the 8 o’clock show at the Paradise. Sorry for not staying longer.”
“Ooh - the Paradise. What’s playing?”
“Rent.” Kurt can tell Hiram is amused at the choice.
“One of our favorites,” Hiram says.
“Yes, Dad, he knows. So we’re, um, going to go now, okay?” Although Kurt would be happy to watch Blaine squirm a little longer.
“Of course, just let me get a pic-”
“Dad!”
“Kidding, kidding.” Hiram’s eyes are warm. “Have fun you two. And Blaine, midnight, okay?”
“Thanks dad.” And Blaine shuts the door behind them. Finally outside on an unseasonably warm fall night. Only light jackets required.
“Sorry,” Blaine apologizes.
“Don’t be,” Kurt says like last time. And they smile because they know they’re lucky that they’re in that group of kids whose parents support their attempts at growing up.
...
When they get to the theatre, Kurt asks for two tickets. Blaine takes out his wallet and Kurt glares. “I don’t think so. This is my date.”
“I’m paying for dessert, then,” Blaine insists. “Where are we going, anyway?”
Kurt smiles sweetly at him. “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” Blaine pouts but his eyes are smiling.
When Kurt returns from the washroom, Blaine has bought them popcorn. One popcorn for both of them. So they are getting popcorn. And sharing. Kurt does not think about how this popcorn predicament will impact whether or not they hold hands. Because obviously Blaine is not thinking about it. He just bought the popcorn.
Approximately twenty-six minutes into the movie, Angel is belting out about killing dogs and living in the moment, and Kurt is relieved that he has seen Rent many times because he’s having a hard time concentrating. Because apparently, he is thinking about holding hands with Blaine. They’re both munching popcorn less than enthusiastically, and of course, their hands have brushed four times in the popcorn bag. Of course. He thinks that he sees Blaine quickly glance over to him each time, but he looks straight ahead. He’s nervous. It’s silly. But he is. Even though Blaine has held his hand before, at the dance, that was holding hands with a purpose to lead to the dance floor. This would just be holding hands. No higher purpose.
After about another twenty minutes of popcorn games, and Blaine singing quietly along to Mimi lighting candles-which Kurt realizes would have annoyed him if it was anyone else at all-he finally says, “I’ve had enough popcorn. Do you want the bag?”
“No, no. Me too. I’m done.” Blaine puts down the bag of popcorn, hands Kurt a napkin, and takes one himself. Popcorn problem solved. But now what?
Kurt puts his hands on his thighs, face down, unclasped, waiting. He discreetly peers over at Blaine, who he sees has done the same. And he feels each time Blaine looks at him. And he feels himself not glance back. Instead he lets his hand slip down to the edge of the seat closest to Blaine. He knows Blaine notices.
Seven minutes later, Blaine copies him. And now their hands are barely inches apart. And Kurt just really wants to hold his hand.
“Kurt.” Blaine turns and looks at him, and this time Kurt has to look back. But Blaine doesn’t say anything, and instead he reaches out and gently places his hand on top of Kurt’s. Finally.
Kurt smiles at him and shifts his hand so they can hold hands properly. Blaine smiles back and runs his thumb along the back of Kurt’s hand.
By the time the cast is celebrating eating tofu, masturbation, and all things bohemian, Kurt and Blaine have slightly turned their bodies toward each other’s, four hands clasped. Sometimes rubbing gently, sometimes interlaced fingers, sometimes resting on each other’s forearms-and Kurt is secretly glad he went with the tight white shirt and not the restrictive button down because Blaine’s fingers really do feel so nice tracing circles along the skin of his forearms. Kurt is aware of each different touch between them. Holding hands is amazing.
Kurt knew that going to a movie was a good idea.
…
When the credits roll and the lights come on, Kurt and Blaine smile at each other shyly, reluctantly watching their hands unclasp as they shuffle to get their jackets. When Blaine turns around to get his scarf, Kurt quickly wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans and hopes Blaine doesn’t notice. He doesn’t think he does because instead Blaine makes his way to the end of the row and holds out his hand for Kurt to take. Kurt thinks he sees a flash of nervousness in Blaine’s eyes but it quickly fades into sweet warmth as Kurt walks up to him and slips his hand into his. He could swear that the fifty-something gay couple two rows behind them is giving Blaine a thumbs up, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care. They walk back to Kurt’s car like this. And all Kurt can think of is that he is doing swingy-hands with Blaine.
“So where am I taking you for dessert?” Blaine asks as they drive away from the theatre.
“You’ll see,” Kurt says just as he turns into the lane entering West Lima Park. It’s the biggest park in Lima - two children’s playgrounds, bike paths, walking paths, and lots of beautiful trees almost done changing colors for the fall, orange and red leaves strewn everywhere.
“Kurt?” Blaine looks at him. “I didn’t know there was a dessert place in West Lima Park-”
“There is,” Kurt says in all seriousness. “I just have to find the spot. I think it’s just after this turn- yes!” Kurt pulls over into a makeshift parking spot underneath a tree. They had been on a slow incline, and even from inside the car, they can see the city lights of Lima below in contrast to the quiet dark of the park.
“Kurt?”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Kurt says, “but you’ll have to pay for dessert next time.” Kurt slides out of the driver’s seat. He opens the trunk and takes something out before gesturing for Blaine to join him. Blaine looks confused but highly interested as he opens his door. Kurt has already started climbing on the Navigator, boosting himself up on to the roof. “Come on up,” he says, smiling. “This is it. We’re here.” When Blaine looks up at him with squinched eyebrows, Kurt adds, “This is the most beautiful spot in our backwards, provincial little town.” Blaine nods and climbs onto the tire, and Kurt grabs his hand to pull him the rest of the way up to the car roof. They slide to the front of the roof, legs dangling over the windshield, and Kurt pulls a warm wool blanket over both of them, revealing a blue cookie tin with a red bow on it. “This is our dessert place, picnic blanket and all,” Kurt explains, handing Blaine the tin. “Homemade fudge brownies with mocha icing.” Blaine looks stunned. “I apologize, but they’re not the low-fat version-”
“Kurt-” Blaine interrupts him. “I-I can’t believe you did this-brought me here, baked brownies.” Blaine shakes his head and looks down, biting his lip. “I thought we were going to Breadstix or something.”
“Please, Blaine Anderson Berry. You should never underestimate me.” Kurt smiles coyly, scooting closer, reaching for a brownie and a napkin.
“Clearly,” Blaine shakes his head in disbelief and takes a first bite. “Oh my god, Kurt. These are so good. You made these? You should sell them!” Blaine is effusive.
“Yeah,” Kurt shrugs. “I could probably pay for college from Finn’s contribution alone.” Blaine smiles at him, taking another bite.
They’re quiet for a minute, eating brownies, and Blaine reaches out from under the blanket with his free hand to take Kurt’s back in his. “This is amazing,” Blaine breathes out. “You’re amazing.” Kurt feels Blaine’s grip shift so he can interlace their fingers again.
“Well, I can’t help it.” Kurt runs his thumb along Blaine’s fingers as he talks. “My brownies have that effect on people.”
“Kurt.” Blaine just looks at him and takes his last bite of brownie. He looks down nervously, tucking his chocolate-stained hand in his lap under the blanket.
They sit like that for a few minutes, Kurt finishing his brownie, Blaine alternating glancing at him shyly and looking away, but holding his hand solidly. “Kurt?”
“Mmmm?” Kurt looks over at him. He’s so content, lost in the moment of Blaine, and brownies, and his idea working, and holding hands outside, on top of the car on a warm fall night, in his favorite spot in Lima.
“I’m going to keep my promise now, okay?” Blaine asks nervously.
“Promise?”
“Not to kiss you on the cheek,” Blaine says hopefully, tentatively.
Oh my god, that promise, Kurt’s heart races. “Oh, that promise.” A beat passes between them. “I think that would be okay.”
They look at each other. Blaine’s eyes flutter from Kurt’s eyes to his mouth and back again, and he scoots even closer, if that’s possible. Blaine tilts his head and Kurt feels like he’s in a teen romance movie that he could never quite picture for himself. Blaine lifts his hand to Kurt’s neck, gently pulling him in. Blaine’s hand is cold and Kurt feels goosebumps trickle down his back.
“Kurt, I want-” but the sentence doesn’t get finished because their eyes close and Blaine’s lips are on his. Barely at first-the kiss is so soft and Kurt can feel Blaine’s warm breath on his lips as they pull apart for a second and open their eyes, checking. Kurt lets out a giggle with nervous energy, and Blaine just looks down and blushes, then says, “Come here.”
“Okay.” Kurt breathes out and this time they’re both reaching out, hands unlaced and moving instead to each other’s faces, necks, arms. Their mouths find each other’s, exploring, so sure of what they want and so unsure of what they’re doing. There’s relief because this. Finally. Kurt opens his mouth because he wants to, and oh-this is the big deal about French kissing. Blaine’s tongue is soft, and chocolate, and in his mouth. Blaine licks gently across the inside of Kurt’s lips, tracing them, waking up parts of Kurt that he didn’t even know were there. The palate of his mouth, the inside of his lips, that spot along his jaw, when Blaine dares to string wet kisses along his throat and neck. He loves it.
Kurt is kissing Blaine- He can taste mocha icing, and lips, and boy, and this boy, and feel nerves and electricity. It’s delicious. When they finally pause to take in the moment, their hands are on each other’s arms, they’re staring at each other, stunned. Elated.
“So, Blaine Anderson Berry,” Kurt starts. He’s giggling with nerves, being so turned on, and the newness of it all. “I believe you’re now a sophomore, gay, and most definitely have kissed another boy,” Kurt teases. Blaine looks at Kurt’s lips again flirtatiously.
“So have you, Kurt Hummel,” Blaine answers back, eyes still staring at his mouth.
“Yes, well. As you say, I am a year older and wiser than you are. It’s to be expected.”
“Cocky.” Blaine kisses him again, their lips crashing-no reason to hold back now. There are lips, and tongues, and teeth biting gently at Kurt's lower lip. “Too much?”
“Not at all.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“Cocky.” But Blaine just grabs him again.
Kurt never understood why in fairytales, the sleeping princess could always be woken up from such a deep slumber with just a kiss. Now he understands.
...
Kurt walks in his door at 12:17 a.m. He arrived at Blaine’s house at 11:58 p.m., but they decided that they had time for at least three more minutes of kissing on Blaine’s porch without anyone getting into trouble. Kurt’s grateful that his house is dark and asleep, leaving him to bask in the emotions of his night. He crawls into bed, skin moisturized, teeth brushed around 12:30, vaguely wondering if Blaine will text, but he’s soon overtaken by sleep as thoughts of Blaine softly kissing his neck fade into quiet.
As it turns out, though, spending the night kissing Blaine will wake him up, body coursing with adrenaline, at 5:13 in the morning. He tries to will himself back to sleep, but it’s not happening. And maybe his body doesn’t want it to happen because it prefers replaying the look on Blaine’s hopeful face when he asked if he could kiss him. Kurt smiles to himself, abandoning any notions of more sleep, and he reaches for his phone.
There’s a new message. From Blaine. Sent at 2:36 a.m. Blaine.
Blaine: I know you’re sleeping. I’m not (obviously). I really had an amazing time tonight.
Blaine: Brownie picnic on top of the car overlooking Lima- Best idea ever. That was my favorite part.
Blaine: That’s not completely true.
Blaine: Kissing you was my actual favorite part.
Blaine: I didn’t know it was going to feel like this. Good, I mean. So good.
Blaine: Too much? Wish I could recall. Delete, okay?
Blaine: But is it okay to say that I hope you have group French and Glee assignments this week?
Blaine: Because I can’t really wait until we have time next weekend to see you again.
Blaine: If you want to see me again, I mean. Of course only if you want to.
Blaine: I’ll stop talking now. I’m rambling and delirious. Goodnight Kurt.
Kurt reads the ten texts sent in a row, and he feels his face flush and his heart race all over again. He’s not sure it ever stopped but there are these surges- at a memory, a sensation, or, as it seems, a text. He starts typing.
Kurt: I was asleep. But I’m now up at the ungodly hour of 5:26 a.m. I hope you’re asleep now.
Kurt: I’ll bake brownies every time if they have that effect.
Kurt: I’m sure I can convince Madame Green that we should do French skits in pairs this week. I’ll have to tell Rachel that you’re insisting that I work with her yet again.
Kurt: I am sure it will take us at least an evening of homework to keep our stellar grades up.
Kurt: Of course I want to, silly. Of course.
Kurt: Message definitely not deleted.
Kurt: You were my favorite part.
He hits send one last time before crawling back into his bed, rolling onto his stomach and covering his face with his pillow. He wants to scream but he doesn’t. He just hugs the pillow to him tightly.
Because he also didn’t know that it was going to feel this good.