How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Part 2/6
Title: How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
Author: glitterandpaws
Word Count: 34,000
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Summary: Kurt is an up-and-coming fashion designer on the brink of hitting it big, when he’s presented with the possibility of having his newest collection showcased during fashion week. The committee is torn between Kurt and Sebastian for the slot, and Kurt must make someone fall in love with him in ten days order to be in the show, but that’s not the only deal he makes. Meanwhile, Blaine is a successful journalist, writing under the pseudonym Blair for a women’s magazine as their resident how-to “girl” when he’s roped into writing a piece on “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days”. When Kurt and Blaine find each other, both of their tasks prove harder than they first appeared.
Full author notes at the masterpost
DAY 2
It was an infatuation at first. Kurt wanted romance and a relationship, so he spent his days mooning over the gorgeous boy in Ms Corcoran’s class, heart flip-flopping in his chest every time Sebastian descended from his throne at the back of the room to speak to him. They’d danced together at parties a couple of times and Kurt wasn’t sure what the love etiquette was on that sort of situation, but it had to mean something.
After a few months of shared smiles and Sebastian speaking while Kurt gazed at his mouth, and that one glorious afternoon they’d got coffee from the stand together and talked while they crossed campus, Kurt was pretty sure that he was completely, utterly, truly, madly, deeply, cross-his-heart-and-hope-to-die-with-Sebastian-when-they-were-old-and-grey in love.
“He’s a whore, you know.”
Kurt jumped, glancing up at the guy who had sat next to him in the library. Kurt had definitely been reading and not watching Sebastian at one of the other desks. “What?”
“Sebastian. The guy you’re totally in love with. He knows, by the way.”
“He…” Kurt blushed furiously. “He knows?”
“Of course. Everyone does. I’m Jeremiah.” He held out his hand and Kurt shook it.
“Kurt. And what did you mean? About him being a… a…”
“A whore?” Jeremiah smiled and looked over at Sebastian. “Well, I’m not saying he gets paid. He just sleeps with anything that moves.”
“But…” Kurt looked over, too, and saw Sebastian smirking at the boy across from him. Kurt’s eyes flicked down and he saw Sebastian’s foot sliding up the inside of the guy’s leg. “But he…”
“Talked to you? Smiled at you? Took you for coffee?”
Kurt turned to him with wide eyes. “Yes. I thought…”
“You thought it was just you, didn’t you?”
He looked down, trying to blink away the hot flush on his cheeks and the prickling behind his eyes.
“Hey.” Jeremiah stroked his back soothingly. “I know it hurts, but I just thought you should know.”
“You’re right. I… Thank you.” Kurt sniffed and brushed the tears from his cheeks.
Jeremiah sighed and started packing up Kurt’s books for him. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”
**
Kurt’s relationship with Jeremiah lasted for two years. Kurt loved him, he really did. But Sebastian was always there.
Kurt’s emotional attachment had been pushed away with the arrival of Jeremiah. It had settled down into a slow-bubbling layer of sexual tension. When Kurt was single again, not wanting to admit that Sebastian might be one of the reasons for that, it quickly reached boiling point. Kurt left almost every encounter with Sebastian achingly hard and completely unsatisfied. Being two of the best in their class and competing constantly only added fuel to the fire. Most of the time Kurt was impressed he managed to remain so aloof around him.
Sebastian was never short of sexual outlets. There were few guys he hadn’t fucked at least once - gay, bi, even some straight guys. Kurt tried not to be jealous, but after a year of them teasing and having intensely charged moments with each other, he felt the anger settle in. It seemed Sebastian would take every single guy except him. They’d get so close and Kurt was just dying to give in, but Sebastian would pull away with a smirk or a chuckle and leave Kurt panting and alone.
And now that was the game: Sebastian would fuck anyone and everyone, but never, never Kurt, and Kurt hated him for it.
**
He lay back on the slight grassy incline with one arm stretched above his head. He stared up at the pinks mottled with fresh green and sunlight gaps. He lifted a hand to watch the shadows dance across his skin as the crab-apple leaves shifted above him, stirred by the soft wind that hinted at approaching summer. He let his head drop to the side and watched the daffodils stretching and playing around each other, yellow heads knocking. He could feel the blades of grass on the back of his neck and hear a flurry of birds somewhere nearby.
He was alone. Just him, a pad of paper and the trees. I’m taking a writing lunch, he’d said, and there had been a few rolled eyes because they all knew where he went. He would come back smelling like spring and sunshine, with a grass stain on the edge of his hand or his elbow. He’d write down a new flower name and stick the Post It to the side of his cubicle, building up his steady wall. Sometimes he would return with pages stuffed full of words, sometimes with only a packet of seeds for each of his closest friends to put in the window boxes he had bought for them.
He had meandered through the azalea garden. The pinks, whites, corals had built up in front of his eyes, a room of old friends in their best dresses. He had passed the daffodils briefly and then settled underneath the tree arcs. He smiled at the branches brushing fingertips above him.
The mechanical sound of his phone broke his stasis. He scrambled for it in the grass, wrapping his fingers around it and pulling out a few blades as he did.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Blaine. It’s Kurt.”
Blaine smiled a little wider and arched his back, stretching. “Hi, Kurt. How are you?”
“Working like crazy, actually. I wanted to ask, would you still like to see me today? It’s alright if you’re busy.”
“No, I’m not busy.” His eyes glanced around the softly shifting scene. I am a mountain, marooned. “Not busy at all.”
“Are you at work?”
“I’m on my lunch break, but I can just take the afternoon off. Say it’s for research.” He took in a deep breath, letting Kurt’s voice work into his space, pulling him out of the stillness curled around him.
“Where are you? That silence I hear can’t be darling New York.”
Blaine paused. He didn’t know whether he could share this yet. But it was just a place, surely. “Botanical Garden.”
“I’ve always meant to go there, but life here just gets so crazy. Is it nice?”
“Yes,” Blaine said, smiling so widely he was sure Kurt could hear it down the phone. “It’s beautiful.”
“Well, I could come meet you-”
“No. No, no, I’ll leave.” Blaine tried to calm his voice and soothe it back into conversational. He wasn’t ready for that yet. With Kurt, maybe he never could be. Not in ten days.
“Okay.” He could tell he hadn’t covered the panic by Kurt’s tone, but hoped it would be let go. “I thought it would be nice to go to a gallery. Maybe MoMA? If… if that’s something you’d be interested in.”
“That sounds like something I’d love. Meet you there in two hours? Can you get off work by then?”
“One second.” There was the sough of fabric in Blaine’s ear and a modulating hum - voices. “Yes.” Kurt’s voice was back, breathier. “I can do that. Meet you outside the main entrance?”
“I’ll be there.”
They said goodbye and there was the click of the call ending. Blaine let his hand flop onto the grass, phone held loosely in his palm. He had a little while longer. A phone call to work and then just time to lie here, taking in as much as he could.
The wind pulled a little harder and the branches creaked. Blaine sighed and let his back mould into the ground again.
**
They wandered into Kandinsky at the Bauhaus, eyes doing a first scan of the room to get a scope for it. Kurt smiled and stepped forward to read an information plaque next to one of the paintings. Blaine watched him as he read, a frown settling over his eyebrows. They had been here for half an hour and he knew what he had to do. He had to put Blaine in a box and bring Blair out of the closet.
He slipped her on, his coat that didn’t quite fit. It was belted at the waist; cut for a woman and a little small in the shoulders, but he would learn to work with it.
He stepped up next to Kurt, leaning into him. “This is terrible.”
Kurt turned to him with wide eyes. “What?”
“This art.” Blaine pointed at the painting. “It’s awful. Look at it. It’s a mess of lines and shapes. A child could have made that.”
Kurt gaped at him for a second, then let out a nervous laugh. “Blaine.” He laughed again. “Well, okay, you’re allowed to have your own opinion. We can move on if you want.”
“No, no. Carry on.” Blaine slipped over to the next painting, the smile dropping from his face. The truth was, he loved Kandinsky. He’d been in this room a few times and every visit had left him with the sense of sated pleasure only art could give. Blaine and Blair were different beasts, however, and he had to adapt.
Kurt hadn’t bitten, though. He needed to find something else.
“Kurt,” he said loudly, voice echoing off the walls. A few people turned to look at him out of instinct, and one or two out of disapproval. Kurt scurried over to him, looking a little embarrassed.
“What is it?”
Blaine kept his voice at the same level, just bordering on the obnoxious. “This one’s even worse than the other one. They should chuck it out.”
“Blaine, I think it’s quite an expensive painting,” Kurt whispered, glancing around. There seemed to be a smile edging onto his lips, though.
“But look!” Blaine reached out a hand, finger very close to the canvas.
“Blaine, I don’t think you should-”
“Sir, can you please step back from the artwork.” The security guard had moved forwards a few paces and was now giving a Blaine an admonitory look. “You must stay at a certain distance at all times.”
“Yes, of course,” Kurt babbled. “I’m so sorry.” He grabbed Blaine’s arm to pull him away. “Do you want to stop and get something to eat?”
“Sure.” Blaine put his loud voice, his Blair voice, on again. “Although personally I think it’s ridiculous that we can’t even get close to a piece of artwork. What the hell kind of repressive society do we live in that we can’t even point out the faults in a tacky canvas without being reprimanded?”
Kurt pulled him quickly out of the room, a little snort of laughter working its way out of his throat. Blaine couldn’t tell whether it was from genuine amusement or humiliation.
They made it to a café without any major incident, although Blaine continued to comment loudly on artwork, society and at one horrifying moment on a person passing them in his definitely-not-inside voice. Kurt’s grip on his arm was growing tighter each time he opened his mouth.
“What do you want?” Kurt asked, gesturing broadly at the counter. “Anything you like. And I’ll pay,” he said with a grin, squeezing Blaine’s arm.
“Baby,” Blaine cooed, relishing the way Kurt’s eyebrows lifted towards his hairline. “You’re so good to me.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “I’ll have…” He looked up at the menu. “The chicken wrap? That sounds nice.”
“Sounds great. I’ll just get a salad. You find a seat.”
Kurt came over their table with a tray a few minutes later. He passed Blaine his wrap with a smile, settling in opposite him and bumping their feet under the table.
Blaine pulled the wrapping off his food, letting it flop onto the plate. He leaned down and looked at it critically. “This has mayo on it.”
Kurt paused, a piece of salad suspended in mid-air. “Oh. Do you not like mayo?”
Blaine sighed. “I hate it. I’m sorry. Kurt, could you please get me something else?”
“I could scrape it off.”
“No, Kurt, I really can’t eat it. Please.”
“I - yeah, sure. Let me just.” He got up, grabbing Blaine’s plate and taking it back to the counter. Blaine looked at the length of the line and smiled to himself. That was not a wait that would keep someone in a good mood.
**
They were absorbing art again. They were in a room that Blaine was quickly falling in love with and, from the look on Kurt’s face, he was too. Blaine took his hand as they walked around, leaning into him. Kurt seemed to have got over his slight annoyance from their food stop and was smiling at him sweetly every few moments.
They paused in front of a piece of art that took Blaine’s breath away. He stared up at it for a few seconds before checking Kurt’s expression. He looked enraptured, eyes shining bright blue as they roved across the lines, a small smile tilting at the edge of his lips. Blaine felt a strange constriction in his chest as he took in just how beautiful Kurt was.
Blair’s stiletto kicked him in the small of his back and he turned his head away. Time to play.
He tugged on Kurt’s hand. Kurt looked at him curiously and Blaine gestured his head to ask that they move on.
“Wait, I love this one. Just a minute more,” Kurt said, voice breathy as he turned back to the piece.
Blaine stayed still for a few seconds, then tugged on Kurt’s hand again. When Kurt continued to stare at the art, he whined a little and pulled harder.
“Blaine, please.”
He put his mouth next to Kurt’s ear. “Kuuuurt. Can we keep going? This is boring.”
“I…” Kurt looked between him and the artwork. “Blaine, I-”
“We’re moving so slowly.”
“We’re appreciating the art. We can’t run round the room and expect to get the full experience.”
Blaine pulled on his hand hard enough that Kurt stumbled a bit. “But you stop in front of dull things. Can we please move on?” He watched the muscles in Kurt’s jaw clench and unclench as he visibly forced his face into a pleasant expression.
“Fine. Let’s go. Take me where you want.”
Blaine wrapped both his arms around one of Kurt’s and leaned a head on his shoulder. “No, you lead. I’ll follow you wherever you go.”
**
They stepped out of the museum doors, Blaine still clinging to Kurt’s hand. He had a bag from the museum shop in his other hand, filled with pointless museum things he had somehow managed to force Kurt to buy for him. They paused on the edge of the sidewalk and Kurt hailed Blaine a taxi.
“I had fun today,” Blaine said as the cab pulled up. He smiled up at Kurt, swinging their hands between them.
Kurt opened the door for him. He smiled back, although the expression wasn’t all there. “Yeah, me too.” He stroked Blaine’s arm as he released his hand and let him climb in. Blaine immediately wound the window down and Kurt leaned over to talk through it. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
Blaine stared up at him. If he were in Kurt’s position he would be running for the hills right now, not putting himself back into the line of fire. “S-sure. Call me?” He managed to bring back his overly-bright persona in time to flash him a winning smile.
“I will. Have a good day.” Kurt leaned in and pressed a kiss to Blaine’s cheek before stepping back and giving him a small wave. Blaine nodded in reply and told the driver his address. When he wound the window up and the cab started to drive off, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. He needed to go home, take a long bath and wash off his imaginary lipstick.
DAY 3
There were times when Kurt wished he didn’t love Brittany so much that he couldn’t fire her. When she let Sebastian into his workroom would be one of those times.
“Britt,” he hissed, grabbing her arm as soon as he saw Sebastian following her in. “What are you doing?”
“He said he wanted to see you,” she replied, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Coffee?” She held a cup out to him.
Kurt took it with a hopeless expression. “Britt,” he whined. “Why did you have to let him in?”
“Did you not want me to?”
“Hummel, leave Brittany alone.” Santana appeared from the back room, taking Brittany’s hand in her own and leading her towards the door she and Sebastian had just entered through. “We’ll take our breaks and drink our coffees. You can stay here and…” She looked between Kurt and Sebastian. “Do whatever it is you do. Just remember that there are priceless clothes in this room. Don’t stain anything.” She glared at them as Sebastian’s smirk simply grew and Kurt’s face flushed. Brittany tugged on her hand and she turned, leading the two of them out.
“So.” Sebastian turned to Kurt, who promptly busied himself at a workstation. “How’s the wooing going?”
“I don’t know why you’re here.” Kurt started rearranging fabrics and putting away pins, not faltering when he felt Sebastian press up against his back.
“I’m checking up on your progress. I like to know whether you’re still in the running or not.” Sebastian walked his fingers around Kurt’s waist, down his hipbone.
“Everything is going perfectly. I wouldn’t bother finishing your design for the gala if I were you.”
Sebastian’s fingers kept dancing across Kurt’s hips, finally coming to rest over his crotch. His hand squeezed him gently and Kurt forcibly held in a gasp. He kept his hands busy, folding and ordering and willing himself not to get hard as Sebastian rubbed his thumb back and forth across Kurt’s dick.
“Fucked him yet?”
“None of your business, Smythe.”
Sebastian chuckled and squeezed Kurt once, hard, before stepping away. “I’ll take that as a no, then. Shame. Bet his ass is still just as tight.”
Kurt’s hands paused. “What did you say?”
“His ass looked tight. Do you call this travesty fashion?” He had paused in front of a mannequin and was looking it up and down, lips pulling back in feigned disgust.
Kurt span towards him. “Get out of my studio.”
“Oh, Kurt, don’t be like that. We’re just starting to have fun.”
“I don’t come in and spy on your designs. Get the fuck out.”
Sebastian snorted. “You’re not pissed about me seeing your abysmal creations.”
“I’m pissed that you think you can just waltz in here and start insulting things. Get out.” Kurt pointed to the door.
“You’re no fun when you’re all uptight like this. How long’s it been, Hummel? You must be gagging for it by now.”
Kurt just glared at him.
Sebastian shook his head, smile back on his lips. “Alright, I’m leaving.” He looked back at the mannequin. He reached up and pulled out a pin, making the whole front of the dress slip down onto the floor. “Shoddy work, Hummel. It needs a bit more support than that.” He smacked Kurt’s ass as he passed, and then he was gone. The room seemed to grow in size, filled with fresh air again, and Kurt flumped into his desk chair. He looked at the hanging fabric of the dress and sighed. It was going to be a long day.
**
Kurt’s phone rang and he straightened up, stepping away from the mannequin. He almost didn’t pick up when he saw the caller ID, but he pushed through it. “Hi, Blaine.”
“Hi,” Blaine said, voice high and breathy. “Want to do something later?”
“I’d love to, Blaine, but I have loads of work to do right now.”
Santana ran over to him, waving her arms in the definite sign of ‘no’. Kurt flipped her off.
“Oh, that’s too bad. I was really hoping to see you.”
“Well…” Santana picked up a pair of scissors and held them up to the dress Kurt had just finished pinning back together (with much more support this time). His eyes widened and he leapt towards her, but she skipped away, pointing at the phone and raising her eyebrows. “Look, work can wait, right? Britt and Santana can stay late and finish up for me.” He smirked at her and she glared back, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Yay!” Blaine squealed down the phone. Kurt held it away from his ear with a wince.
“Okay. Meet me at Caffé Mocias on Amsterdam and 94th? We can take a walk plus coffee in Riverside Park.”
Blaine sighed. “That sounds wonderful. Five?”
“Yeah,” Kurt said, glancing at his watch. “See you later.”
“Bye, Kurtsie!”
“Goodbye, Blaine.”
**
“Blaine.”
His father called out to him from his office as soon as he’d closed the front door. Blaine sighed, removed his coat and dropped his keys on the hall table before heading towards the source of the voice. He stood next to his father’s rosewood desk, pulling the ends of his sleeves further over his hands and staring at the wall.
“Where were you just now?”
“I…” Blaine’s eyes flicked around the room. He’d never had this conversation with his father before. He’d come out almost a year before, but he wasn’t sure how his dad was going to handle this. “I was on a date.”
“Sit down.”
He grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to the desk.
“Blaine, look at me.” He obeyed, although his hands were shaking. “I got a phone call from Mrs Perkins. She said she saw you in the street… with a boy. You were…”
“Dad-”
“You were holding hands and - and kissing him, Blaine. In the street, where everyone could see.”
Blaine linked all his fingers together to keep them steady. His eyes dropped to his father’s knees. “I thought you said you were okay with… with me being the way I am.”
“Not when you shove it in other people’s faces, Blaine. It’s indecent to act that way when you’re in public.”
“I just kissed him on the cheek, Dad, it’s not like we were-”
“It’s not right, Blaine. Now, you do what you want in the privacy of your own home when you’re an adult. I don’t want to know. But in the street, in public places, anywhere other people can see you: that is not the place for your behaviour. I don’t want to hear from others that this has been happening. Never again, Blaine.”
He nodded, blinking hard. His throat was tight and he barely managed to choke out a “Can I go?”
His father waved him out of the room and returned to his work.
**
Blaine watched Kurt over the rim of his cup, tongue fizzing under the liquid and the bitter caffeine hit in the back of his throat. Kurt turned his eyes towards him and Blaine marvelled at how his irises picked up the bright petals of the flowers all around them. There were strokes of blaue blume and nigella, of aechmea leaves, fanning out from his pupil, and a bolt of gold where the sun refracted. Kurt smiled gently, a blush stretching up his cheekbones, swipes of red to his temple, and he was so beautiful. Blaine gazed at him, feeling a tug in his stomach he couldn’t examine. He reached out and tangled his fingers with Kurt’s. Kurt ducked his head and sipped his coffee again.
Blaine watched his throat as he swallowed. He watched his tongue swipe across his lips, leaving them silky, red and warm with coffee heat. Blaine let out a breath and looked away, watching the flowers instead; they could have talked, petals flapping, or danced on their stems, and Blaine wouldn’t have seen. Kurt’s thumb was sliding along the side of his index finger, warming him from his fingertips to his heart to his toes, and all Blaine could do was smile.
They threw their cups away. They reached a small bridge and Kurt tugged them to a stop. He dropped Blaine’s hand to rest his elbows on the side, looking out at the slow-moving, petal-strewn black water-top. Blaine mimicked him with their sides pressed against each other. He knew their relationship shouldn’t be this tangible to him, because he could count on his fingers how long they had left. But when Kurt was leaning against him, humming gently as he took in the scene before them, Blaine couldn’t help but feel it. Kurt was a cocoon and liberation. He was safety and freedom.
Blaine turned his head towards Kurt, bringing their faces close together. He was going to kiss him. He felt the turning of fear in his gut, his father’s voice kicking him in the back of the head, but he was pushing it away and he was going to do it. Kiss him right here in the park, where anyone could see and no-one would care.
Kurt looked over at him, a lazy smile on his face, and Blaine leaned in. He could see in his mind’s eye how Kurt’s lips would turn up against his mouth, how he’d press a little closer and slip an arm around Blaine’s back. He’d wrap him up close and set him free all with one little kiss.
Kurt pulled away before Blaine could reach him. “Blaine…”
He stumbled backwards, cheeks flaming up hot and his stomach twisting in on itself.
“I-”
“Sorry. I didn’t realise it was like that,” he spat, not knowing where the words were coming from.
“Like what? Blaine, sorry-”
“I’m just your dirty secret or whatever. We can do what we want in private, but we’re just friends in public. Fine.”
“Blaine.” Kurt grabbed his arm, stilling him. “Where is this coming from? That’s not what I meant. I - we’ve just drunk coffee and there was onion in my salad at lunch and I haven’t had a mint yet and…” He looked at Blaine in consternation. “I was just worried it would be gross, I’m sorry. I didn’t - that is not what I intended to imply. Blaine, are you okay?”
Blaine was shaking. He shook his head, then tried to turn it into a nod, head bobbing violently. Kurt reached out and tugged him close, wrapping soothing arms around his waist and kissing the top of his head.
“What is it? What brought this on?”
Blaine just shook his head, burying his face in Kurt’s jacket and refusing to believe in the tears seeping into the fabric. He hiccupped and Kurt’s arms tightened around him.
“I’ve never…” He clutched the front of Kurt’s jacket in his fists. “My dad… H-he…”
“Shh,” Kurt said over Blaine’s disjointed thoughts. “Your dad isn’t here.”
“But he is. He always is.”
He felt Kurt’s cheek rest against his hair. “What do you mean?”
Blaine tugged an arm out from between them to gesture at his own skull before slipping it back against Kurt’s chest. “Here. He’s like a second conscience. Telling me that I’m wrong and unacceptable and - and to do what I choose to do in private and nowhere else.” He sobbed and clung to Kurt even harder.
Kurt made a pained noise and seemed to be trying to wrap Blaine up as tight as he could. “You’re not wrong. You know that. We’re not wrong. I will kiss you in public every day and not a single person can tell us to stop because we are right.”
Blaine nodded against his chest, heart aching at the promise in his words that he would have to stop Kurt from keeping.
Kurt’s fingers tapped the underside of his chin, tilting it up. Blaine blinked up at him, letting the tears blur out of his vision. Kurt smiled, then leaned in and pressed their lips together. He kissed him and held him, and anyone could see but no-one cared.
They broke apart, but Kurt kept gazing down at him, a soft expression on his face. Blaine started to grin. “Okay, you do kind of taste like coffee and onion.”
“Blaine!” Kurt yelped, laughing and pushing him away. “Oh, you’re awful.”
DAY 4
“Blaine, darling, how good to see you again.”
The drawl made him freeze as he took his coffee. The barista gave him an odd look. He took a steadying breath and turned around.
He looked the same as ever. He still stood, smirked and breathed like it was so fucking effortless that he couldn’t be bothered with it. His eyes were sparkling, just the way they had been when they first met, and he put a hand on Blaine’s hip. Just as disrespectful of personal boundaries as ever, then.
Blaine forced some semblance of a smile onto his face. “Sebastian. I’d love to stay, but as you can see I’m having a drink, so I’ll catch you later.” He stepped away, out of Sebastian’s cloying heat, and made for a table in the corner of the room. Sebastian took a coffee from the counter which Blaine was pretty convinced didn’t belong to him, and sat opposite him.
“That’s okay, Blaine. We can have coffee, catch up. I’ve missed you.” He grinned, almost feral, and slid a foot up the inside of Blaine’s leg.
Blaine jumped and blushed, looking anywhere but at Sebastian. “Go away.”
“Aw, Blainers, you’re not still sore about what happened between us, are you? You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He was sliding his foot back and forth up the back of Blaine’s calf. “And I really do miss you. I think about your pretty little ass all the time.”
Blaine squirmed and took a large gulp of coffee. It burned his mouth and he tried not to wince.
“How about we ditch the caffeine and go back to my place? Bet you haven’t felt a cock as good as mine in a long time.”
Blaine moved his legs away and put his coffee down. He caught Sebastian’s gaze with hard eyes, jaw set. “I’m seeing someone.”
“Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”
“No. I care about him.”
“He doesn’t need to know.”
“I’m not going to sleep with you, Sebastian.”
Sebastian grabbed his hand across the table and the gesture was so unexpected that Blaine flinched. Sebastian ignored it. “This guy can’t be so great that you don’t want me even a little bit. Have you even fucked yet?”
“Stop it.”
Sebastian grinned and pulled Blaine’s hand towards him, licking his fingertips. Blaine glanced around, realising that people could see them, but no-one was looking their way. He tried to pull his hand back, but Sebastian gripped his wrist, kissing across Blaine’s palm. The action was uncomfortably intimate.
Blaine stood, wrenching his hand from Sebastian. “It’s not happening. Enjoy your coffee.”
Sebastian stood and tried to crowd into his personal space again, but Blaine was gone, out the door and running, pulling out his phone to leave Kurt the twenty-third message of the day.
**
Kurt pressed the button on the answering machine with trepidation.
“You have twenty-three new messages.”
“Jesus.”
They were mainly variants on Blaine asking where he was, giggling, telling him what he was doing. The last one was odd, though. Kurt replayed it with a frown.
“Kurtsie, it’s me. I miss you, baby. I…” Blaine sounded out of breath, like he was running. “I want to see you. I think I need you.” The dial tone.
“End of messages.”
Blaine had sounded distressed, but Kurt couldn’t really understand why. The doorbell rang and he left it, deciding to call Blaine later - a prospect he was not looking forward to.
“Hi!” Blaine grinned when Kurt opened the door and he immediately pushed inside. He was carrying a box, but Kurt didn’t ask.
“Hi, Blaine. I… got your messages. Are you okay? You sounded kind of upset on the last one.”
Blaine dropped the box and span to face him, grabbing him and kissing him. Kurt made a sound of surprise and tried to pull away, but Blaine pulled him closer, slipping his arms around Kurt’s back and licking into his mouth. He was kissing Kurt like he needed him, like Kurt was something he was clinging to desperately. Kurt let him, stroking a hand up his back to tangle in his hair.
When Blaine broke away and rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder, Kurt stroked the backs of his fingers across his cheekbone. “What happened?”
“I had a run-in with someone I can’t stand. He… he makes me feel worthless.”
Kurt tightened his arm around Blaine’s back and kissed the top of his head. “You’re not worthless. You’re wonderful. And you mean something to me, okay?”
Blaine closed his eyes and pressed closer. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do.” He kissed the top of Blaine’s head. “Let me cook you dinner. Then we can watch a movie and cuddle.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Kurt smiled, stroking a hand up and down Blaine’s back as he looked over his shoulder. “What’s in the box?”
“Oh,” Blaine said, trying to seem bright through the thickness in his voice. He stepped out of the warmth of Kurt’s arms and lifted the plant pot out of the box, holding it in front of him. “It’s a baby fern.”
“Really?” Kurt said, cocking his head and looking mildly confused.
Blaine couldn’t believe the words he was about to say, but more so he couldn’t believe that a little part of him wished that he could mean them. “Just like our relationship. A helpless little baby in need of…” He stroked the fronds. “Tender loving care.” He thrust the pot into Kurt’s hands.
Kurt looked down at the fern, then back at Blaine. He smiled, although he hoped it didn’t come off as amused as he was feeling. “Thank you. I will cultivate it to the best of my best ability.”
**
Blaine shut Kurt’s bedroom door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling out his phone. He tapped his fingers nervously on his knee as it rang once, twice, two and a half-
“Rachel Berry, exemplary journalist for Haute Magazine, how may I help you?”
“Rachel, you have caller ID. You know it’s me.”
“A habit cannot be broken, Blaine. I never know who is going to be on the other end of the line.”
“Whatever. Rachel, I think I’m doing the wrong thing.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t want Kurt to hear me-”
“You’re at Kurt’s? But you didn’t tell me you were going! Oh my god, what did you do? Did you sleep with him? You so slept with him, Blaine, you’re so bad!”
Blaine let out a frustrated huff and clenched his fist on his knee. “Rachel, be quiet for a second, please. No, I didn’t sleep with him. I’m just worried I’m doing the wrong thing. He’s… he’s amazing. He makes me feel things I… I’ve never felt like this in my life and I’m going to lose him and - and, Rachel, what if I don’t want to?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes tight shut.
There was a pause on the other end of the line and Blaine could hear the shifting of Rachel’s body on what he assumed was her couch. “Blaine… I tried to… I told you to think about this.”
“I know. I know, but I didn’t think…”
“This is your job. I wish there was a way you could not do this, but you have to or you’re not going to have an article. What brought this on?”
Blaine pulled his legs up onto the bed, crossing them. “I ran into Sebastian today.”
“Oh, Blaine-”
“And it was terrible. I talked to Kurt about it and h-he made me feel… I don’t know what he made me feel, but it felt good. Wonderful.”
“And now you don’t want to do this.”
“But I have to.”
“But you have to.” She sighed, making the phone crackle. “You’re going to have to carry on. It’s gone too far to back out now. You need to bring out the performer I know you have inside you and push through it, okay? What was next on the list?”
“Invade his home with my possessions. Move in without living here, basically.”
“That sounds fun! Try to think of it that way. It’s a game.”
“That makes me feel worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. There’s nothing you can really do. I’ll just… I’ll go fuck with his life. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He hung up without giving her time to say goodbye and took the few steps to the en suite bathroom, picking up the box as he went.
He opened the bathroom cupboard, taking in the perfectly organised rows of lotions and creams and dental hygiene products. He allowed himself a moment to smile at Kurt’s obsession with his nightly routine and impressive neatness before he shoved the bottles haphazardly to one side. He pulled some of the items he had brought with him out of the box, piling his toiletries onto the small shelves, making sure at least one spilled a little. He considered the three tubes of lube before grinning and lining them up on the bottom shelf, right next to Kurt’s moisturiser. He dropped his newly-acquired spare toothbrush in the holder with Kurt’s and closed the cupboard.
Closing the bathroom door behind him, he made his way back to the kitchen. He kicked his shoes off and left them in the middle of the floor - he hated it and so would Kurt. He entered the kitchen, breathing in the heavenly smell of whatever Kurt was cooking. He couldn’t help feeling guilty, considering the moment they’d had earlier, but Blaine had to do his job. Just a few more days and he was done.
“Hi, baby,” he said, wrapping his arms around Kurt from behind and sucking on his earlobe.
Kurt jumped. “Blaine! I didn’t hear you come in.”
Blaine hummed and started pressing sloppy kisses to his neck, hands roaming across Kurt’s stomach. His fingers slipped under the hem of Kurt’s shirt and traced across the sensitive line of skin just above his waistband. Kurt gasped.
“Blaine,” he said, voice high and sweet, “honey. Cooking.”
“Fine,” Blaine said, nipping his jaw and pulling back, practically skipping out of the kitchen. He started pulling any CD he vaguely recognised off Kurt’s shelf, carrying the pile over to the table and splaying it out. He spotted one of them and grinned, flipping it open.
**
When Kurt looked in the living room, Blaine wasn’t to be found, but he could hear music playing from his bedroom. He pushed open the door and almost choked. Blaine was jumping on his bed, scream-singing along to Katy Perry’s Peacock.
“Blaine-”
“Are you brave enough to let me see your peacock-”
“Blaine.” Kurt stabbed the off button and the room was suddenly echoing, Blaine pausing in his dancing. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Blaine shrugged, jumping off the bed and slinking across to Kurt in a way that wasn’t sexy at all. “I just want to see your peacock, cock, cock, Kurt.”
Kurt surveyed the mess of his room, catching sight of some of Blaine’s clothes deposited haphazardly on his chair. He didn’t even want to think about it. He looked back at Blaine, who was now tracing a finger down his chest, mumbling about his peacock.
“Dinner’s ready.”
“But, Kurt.” He looked up through his eyelashes with a ridiculous expression Kurt couldn’t even identify. “I can think of something else I really, really want to eat first.” Blaine’s fingers reached the top of Kurt’s jeans.
Kurt jumped away, backing towards the kitchen. “Maybe after? Come on, the food will get cold.” He tripped over something and swore. He looked back and saw Blaine’s shoes lying in the middle of the floor. “Leave it, Kurt,” he muttered to himself.
**
Blaine was silent and placid as Kurt served the food and Kurt was almost convinced they were back in the safe zone. That hope was shattered, however, when they started to eat.
“I’m sorry if you’re embarrassed, Kurt. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“What would I be embarrassed about?”
Blaine leaned over the table and stage-whispered to him, even though they were quite obviously alone. “About your… problem.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You can see your doctor, baby. There’s no need to be ashamed.” Blaine took his hand, stroking it.
“Blaine, seriously, I don’t-”
“You can’t get it up and that’s fine, really. I’m not complaining. I’m happy to go with you and get the drugs you need and-”
“What are you talking about? I don’t…” Kurt dropped his cutlery onto his plate. “Do you mean in there?” He gestured to the bedroom. “You think I said no because I - because I-”
“Erectile dysfunction is a common problem, Kurt. You’re a little young, I know, but I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explana-”
“I don’t have a problem with my dick!” Kurt pulled his hand back. “I don’t… Blaine, you… Oh my god.” He put his head in his hands.
“So you’re in denial. Okay.”
“I do not have erectile dysfunction.” He lifted his head. “I didn’t want you to blow me. That was the problem. Okay? You happy now? I didn’t want to put my dick in your mouth.”
Blaine’s face screwed up and Kurt knew he’d made a mistake. He reached out just as Blaine started to sob.
“No, Blaine, not like that. Stop, no, please.”
Blaine sobbed loudly; put his hands over his face to disguise the lack of tears. He heard Kurt talking frantically to him.
“Blaine, you know it’s not like that. I want it, I really do. It just wasn’t the right time and I didn’t mean it like that. Blaine, honey, ssh.”
Blaine was wrapped in Kurt’s arms and pulled himself away. “You don’t want me,” he wailed, his fake histrionics reaching an ear-splitting pitch.
“I do, Blaine, seriously, it’s-”
“Why do you never let me touch you?”
“I…”
Blaine looked up at him with accusing eyes, still pretending to hiccup.
“Blaine,” Kurt said, looking lost. “We’ve been seeing each other for barely a week. Don’t you think that would be a moving a little… fast?”
“So our time together means nothing to you?” Blaine stood up, knocking his chair to the floor.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re thinking it!”
“No.” Kurt reached out and pulled Blaine into his embrace, holding him tightly when he tried to squirm away and speaking rapidly into his hair. “These few days have been amazing. I’ve never felt so connected to someone before and I just really, really, really don’t want to mess this up by going too fast. I want you to know I respect you.”
Blaine burrowed closer, lifting his lips to Kurt’s ear. “Want to respect me by letting me suck you off?”
Kurt patted the back of his head. “Not tonight, okay? I’m not really, ah, up to that.”
“Oh.” Blaine pulled back with a pout. “Okay, then. I guess I’d better leave.” He pulled on his shoes and socks and grabbed his coat.
“But, Blaine, we haven’t finished eating.”
“See you tomorrow, Kurtsie,” he called as he left.
**
After the disastrous exit of his ‘boyfriend’, Kurt was looking forward to a relaxing, Blaine-free evening. He’d poured himself a glass of wine, and was all ready to go through his skincare routine and climb into bed with his sketchpad. He entered the bathroom, pushing his hair back and rubbing his eyes. He pulled open the cupboard as he turned the taps on, feeling around for the bottle he needed. His fingers scrabbled at the place it normally was. He looked up, wondering what had happened to his organised shelves, and let out a yelp. His cupboard was overflowing with products that most definitely did not belong to him. Cheap aftershave, foul cologne, shampoo he’d never let near his hair and - he choked - boxes of condoms and bottles of lube.
He stepped back in horror, eyes flicking across the bathroom. The hand towel was on the floor in a puddle of water, there were hairs on the floor by the toilet, a razor that didn’t belong to him was sitting on the edge of the sink and someone else’s toothbrush had joined his.
He wrenched the door open and escaped to his bedroom. He couldn’t deal with this now. He tripped over a pair of Blaine’s espadrilles on his way to bed. He was about to climb in when he saw the pink and red pillows. He picked one up and turned it over in his hands. It was shaped like a heart, with a line of frill around the edge. It was hideous.
He pushed the pillows to the side and ripped the tartan blanket off the bed because he couldn’t stand to sleep under that thing and didn’t understand where Blaine had even found something so heinous. When he lay down, he slipped his hand under the pillow and hit fabric. He tugged and pulled out a pair of boxers. He groaned and chucked them at the pile of Blaine’s clothes already in his room. His whole bed smelled like Blaine; he had no idea how that had been achieved and didn’t really want to think too much on it. He would just sleep now and deal with these monstrosities in the morning.
Part 3