Fic: Swing Into Flight 1/2

[whenidance]

Title Swing Into Flight 1/2
Rating R
Word Count 9,970
Summary At first, Blaine thinks it’s crazy to play three shows in Ohio. Sure, it’s his home state, but are Cincinnati, Columbus, and Cleveland all really necessary? It doesn’t matter, because in the end, Ohio is where Blaine spots him. The elusive boy who manages to avoid him almost entirely despite coming to all three concerts.
Warnings Age difference (17/22), frottage whee
Notes (Inspired by this gifset [gifs from tonight's ep within link] and Megan's prompts - Happy birthday Megan!) Thanks to Kerry, Jenny, and Carrie for the hand-holding and betaing. Also thanks to Howie Day who I stole and changed lyrics from to make one of Blaine's songs when I realized I wasn't a song writer, and to Kerry in that regard too. The second half of this should be up next week.

At first, Blaine thinks it’s crazy to play three shows in Ohio. Sure, it’s his home state, but are Cincinnati, Columbus, and Cleveland all really necessary? When they all sell out, his manager, Susan, just says she told him so, but it doesn’t matter, because in the end, Ohio is where Blaine spots him. The elusive boy who manages to avoid him almost entirely despite coming to all three concerts.

Blaine first sees him in Cincinnati, off to the right of the stage with a whole group of kids who went all out costume-wise (they all look high school aged, which means he’s probably as young as he looks, pity), though his is obviously the best. Strong silver shoulders, and fingerless gloves, and a white wig even - the girl with the pink eyelashes has nothing on him. She’s smart though, because when Blaine blinks at him during “Don’t Sweat The Haters,” she nudges him with her shoulder even though the boy’s eyes never leave Blaine’s.

When Blaine rushes backstage for a costume change, he grabs Susan and pulls her aside. “Hey - those kids in the corner. The girl in the pink and the boy in the silver, all of them. Tell Rob they’re the ones for backstage.” Like many other pop stars before him, Blaine has a standing rule that people who dress up for his concerts have a chance to be chosen to come backstage. Sometimes his bodyguard, Rob, randomly picks people, but every once in a while (like tonight) Blaine will tell him ahead of time.

“Oh, you mean the kid you’ve been eyefucking half the night? Subtle, Blaine,” Susan teases, tossing Blaine his feathered jacket and smirking.

“Shut up!” he retorts, running his fingers through his hair once the stylist leaves his side.

Unfortunately, after the concert, the boy in the silver isn’t with Rob as he escorts a bunch of concert-goers to the room they’re using for meet and greets that night. None of the kids [from that group are, and when Blaine looks over at Rob, he just winces and shrugs his shoulders apologetically. Blaine pastes on a smile, and greets his fans, forgetting all about him until he’s alone in his hotel room much later that night.

Blaine’s alone more often than not, not for lack of options (obviously - he sells out mid-size arenas almost every night and has girls and boys throwing themselves at him), but because touring is tiring. Someone’s got to really grab his interest for him to put out the effort.

Seeing as the boy in silver is still on his mind … he would have been worth the effort.

Fuck.

Blaine rolls over on the bed and grabs his phone. He hasn’t tweeted about tonight’s show yet, and he tries to tweet about every concert. He already did a few earlier today about being back home in Ohio, but he should definitely mention the show.

cincinnati you were on fire tonight! saw some stunning silver in a sea of spectacular spectators … followed by wonder if columbus can top them? :)

He usually doesn’t tweet about specific costumes he’s seen, but he has before, so at least it won’t look out of place, plus it’s vague enough. He throws his phone on the other side of the bed, vowing not to look through his replies, because he’s sure if the boy in silver doesn’t reply, one of his friends most certainly will, and the last thing he needs to spend his night doing is creeping on some assumed-high school kid’s twitter account. Tomorrow will be another city, and hopefully another, more age-appropriate boy will catch his eye. And if not, there will be another city after that, and another, and another.

Blaine doesn’t expect the boy in silver to show up in Columbus. Alone. In the front row of the general admission section. In painted-on gold pants.

When he sees him, Blaine almost forgets the next line of his opening number.

It’s not a costume, per se; it’s just a lot of tight clothing, a tight white short-sleeved tee and the pants, but the boy’s features are highlighted this way. Blaine can see his hair is brown now, swept away from his face, and he notices the brightness of his eyes. He can see the muscles of his arms, the way his hands are gripping the metal bar in front of him separating the fans from the stage. He can see his thighs encased in the gold fabric since there’s no one in front of him, aside from when Rob walks back and forth, thighs that would feel amazing under his fingertips -

Blaine shakes his head and almost laughs, right in the middle of “(I Was A) Diva In My Mind,” because this kid is going to make him mess up the whole damn set. He’s twenty-two, he’s been in the business since he was eighteen and he’s been performing way longer, and he’s never messed up a set. The boy must have an idea of what he’s done, because when the song is over, Blaine throws a glance his way and the boy ducks his head, blushing all the way to his hairline.

“Make sure Rob grabs the kid in gold pants, I don’t care if he’s not wearing a costume,” Blaine growls to Susan backstage during a costume change - he doesn’t want to miss his chance again.

Unfortunately, the boy leaves before the encore. Blaine’s not sure what he did in a past life that he’s paying for now, but he’s truly sorry. He doesn’t even know if the kid is gay, of course. Blaine almost always assumes because he rarely has fans that are both straight and male, but he can’t get the boy off his brain.

Back in his hotel room later that night, he wonders if the boy will be in Cleveland the next day. Of course, he has no idea where the kid lives, but Cincinnati and Columbus are closer together than Cleveland, and they were also on Friday and Saturday nights, even though it is summer. He knows Susan will give him so much shit for it in the morning - hell, there’s a chance she’ll call within fifteen minutes after he tweets - but it’s worth the chance. He knows fans are going to analyze his tweets and he wonders if there’s enough concert footage out there from the right angles for them to come to the right conclusions.

He doesn’t really care.

Blaine ponders exactly what to say for a moment before grabbing his phone and opening the twitter app. do you ever have something you want just out of your reach? bah! curses! foiled again! He’s not sure whether the use of the word ‘want’ is too crass, but in the end, honestly, it’s the truth and it’s easily blown off as something much more PG. He waits a few minutes so people aside from the boy might think the tweets aren’t related and then continues with anyway, columbus, you were GOLD tonight! hopefully you could tell from the smile on my face the whole time! followed by his standard reminder about costumes getting picked for backstage access, which he hasn’t done in a few weeks, adding that people are often grabbed after the show so don’t be so quick to rush out.

The next day, on the drive to Cleveland, Blaine asks Rob, “I know I sound like a creep, but the guy from the past two nights? You know what he looks like, right?”

When Rob nods, Blaine scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “If you see him tonight, can you invite him backstage before the show starts?”

As Blaine gets ready, he’s nervous. He hasn’t been nervous before a show in a while, and he can tell people are starting to get annoyed with him. Finally, Susan calls him to the edge of the wings where they can just barely see the corner of the crowd and there he is.

“That’s him, right? Before Rob asks some random babyfaced bozo backstage?” she drawls, clearly enjoying this all too much. She’d already given him a lecture on best tweeting practices so now she’s back to ribbing him over the whole thing.

“Yes! Yes.” He’s a few rows back, but Blaine can make out his face perfectly, talking with a couple of the girls from the other night, including the pink eyelashes one. Susan is about to relay this over her earpiece when Blaine steals it from her ear and shoos her off before she can even protest. “Rob! That’s him.”

“You’re going to listen to make sure I talk to him this time, aren’t you?” Rob says, turning back towards the stage and squinting, as if he’s trying to make Blaine out and shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ll turn up the volume on my mic so maybe you’ll be able to hear him too.”

“I - thanks, Rob.” He knows he shouldn’t be listening, but he can’t help himself.

Blaine watches as he makes his way over to the crowd and points the boy out, motioning for him to come over to the side of the barricades. The girls hold their place as he moves toward Rob and finally, Blaine hears Rob say, “You’ve been making the last few days miserable for me, kid.”

“Excuse me?”

Blaine’s not sure what Rob did to his earpiece, but he can hear his mystery boy’s voice clearly on his end over the hum of the stadium in the background, thousands of people filing in around them, and it’s perfect.

“Mr. Anderson would like to invite you backstage. Your friends too, if they want.”

The boy glances down at what he’s wearing - it looks like a lot of black to Blaine, aside from what looks like the same white shirt as last night with a leather jacket on top, and then says, “But I’m not really wearing a costume. We didn’t have time to put anything together with the drive -”

“Yeah, Mr. Anderson doesn’t care about that with you.” Blaine can tell from Rob’s tone of voice he’s finding all of this very amusing.

The boy sucks in a sharp breath and breathes out, “I didn’t think any of that was real. I thought …” He motions for one of the girls to come over and he whispers sharply to her, “You were right, I was invited backstage. Do you and Quinn want to -”

“No boy, this is all you. You go on without us,” she says, patting his shoulder before making her way back through the crowd.

“Uh, I guess it’s just me then,” the boy says to Rob with a laugh, and Blaine wants to listen to him laugh all night.

“Good. Don’t run off on me again, ya hear? Meet me back here when the show’s over, and let me have a name for the list backstage.”

“Oh, right. Kurt. Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt. Blaine smiles to himself and pulls out the earpiece, walking off to find Susan and return it, finally calm enough to finish getting ready for the show.

***

Later, Blaine rushes through his post-show routine, checking off as many things as possible that normally would be taken care of after the meet and greet. Tonight’s was actually the best out of the three Ohio shows in Blaine’s opinion, and he’s not sure if it was the energy from the crowd or the euphoric feeling that settled in his chest the moment he realized he’ll finally be meeting Kurt, but he and his backup singers and dancers played off each other more than they have in a while and the crowd ate it all up. It was harder to see Kurt than previous nights, but that was probably for the best, because he was able to focus his attention fully on performing.

It’s been a long tour, seven and a half weeks, which is far longer than his previous two. After tonight, they thankfully have a bit of a break. They’re off until Thursday, and then they have fifteen more stops to hit along the East Coast. They had four days off in Canada three weeks ago, but aside from that, it’s only been a spare day here and there. Perhaps his teammates are ready for a little bit of a break too, Blaine thinks as he changes into a fresh pair of pants and shirt to meet his fans. He knows the singers and dancers are headed out to one of the local bars and celebrate their freedom, let loose a little, and if Kurt hadn’t shown up, he’d probably be joining them.

But he had.

Blaine’s starting to freak out a little as continues to freshen up. He’s not really sure what his game plan is. He doesn’t want to just get into Kurt’s pants - he’s not even sure if he’ll let himself get that far since he doesn’t know how old Kurt is. Blaine has a pretty hard and fast eighteen-and-over rule that he doesn’t let himself break, but then again, he’s throwing out all the other rules with this kid so far. With the few hookups he’s had on the tours, there’s been some sort of signal from them beforehand that they were both on the same page. Blaine hasn’t gotten that here. Maybe that’s his issue. Sure, Kurt accepted his backstage offer, but perhaps that’s all he wants. A photo with a star.

The meet and greets are always held in a room that’s been set up by Claudette, Blaine’s photographer. She takes down everyone’s information ahead of time so she knows where to email copies of the photos she takes to and her assistant, Em, takes everyone’s phones and cameras away from them before entering and returns them when they leave. Rob is the one to bring everyone in and Susan is the one to make the introductions - if someone was pulled from the audience, or if they won a contest through the local radio station, or if someone has an extra special story.

They all know Blaine’s story. The gay kid beaten up at his school dance who became a buttoned-up, private school a capella show choir star and was discovered at eighteen in LA over spring break at karaoke while he was visiting his brother. In four years, Blaine’s somehow gained two albums, three world tours, and millions of fans from places he didn’t know existed. His critics say his act is bipolar, that Blaine doesn’t know who he is as an artist, because half the time he’s on stage in flamboyant clothes and high energy numbers before switching speeds and coming out dressed as a regular guy and toning it down - but that’s the point. He’s showing the world it’s fine to get dressed up and have fun and still be yourself underneath; that it’s fine to have both sides inside of you and not have to choose. So many kids can relate to that and tell him that all the time.

For those few minutes when a fan is in front of him, Blaine’s story doesn’t matter, and all that does is the story of whoever’s in front of him. He’s heard thousands of stories over the years about how he inspires these kids, and he’s really not joking when he tells people his fans inspire him more than anything, that they’re the reason he keeps going.

Rob brings back about fifteen people tonight, and Kurt is at the end of the pack. Blaine meets his eye briefly, but then turns his attention to the girl at the very front of the line who has turquoise extensions in her hair. He greets each and every one of them with a hug and talks with each fan charismatically before posing for photos. Most people are there in pairs, one group of three and the turquoised-hair girl all by herself, and as the group of three is walking out the door to retrieve their belongings from Em, Blaine hears Susan say behind him, “And this, Blaine, is the illustrious Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine swivels on the heel of his studded oxford, and there he is, just as stunning inches from Blaine’s face as he’d been in the crowd. Even more so, actually … is that eyeliner? “Kurt. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Kurt stands there slack-jawed for a moment before finally saying, “Isn’t that my line?” Blaine grins wildly and pulls him into a hug, just as he had everyone else, but can’t help holding him a little tighter and rubbing his palm over Kurt’s back, over the cool leather of his jacket.

“Do you have to get back to your friends right this second?” Blaine asks softly, and Kurt looks confused for a moment, but then shakes his head. It’s been over an hour since the concert ended at this point, but really, it serves them right for not coming. Blaine’s decided he doesn’t want to talk to Kurt here, not in front of all these people. “Good. Let’s take this photo and then you could walk with me, if that’s alright?”

“Uh … sure …” Kurt replies as Blaine pulls back, still looking a little dazed, so Blaine grabs his hand and leads him over to the photo backdrop, swinging his arm around his shoulders just as he had in all of the other photos. Blaine can hear Kurt’s unsteady breathing and how hard he’s working to calm it and he can see out of the corner of his eye how Kurt’s perfectly plump lips are curling up into a smile -

“Okay you two, let me take another, you blinked, Blaine,” Claudette says, sticking her tongue out at them. Blaine knows he didn’t blink, but he figures Kurt is still looking completely shocked and Claudette didn’t want to call him out. “Big smiles, please and thank you!”

“Thank you, Claudette,” Blaine says when she’s done, rushing over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Enjoy your time off and see you in Philly.”

Susan’s already been told to leave him alone for the most part until he contacts her tomorrow, barring any emergencies, so he gives her a quick wave, to which she returns with a wink. “Okay, come on, this way.” Blaine heads towards the door and motions for Kurt, who jumps a little and follows Blaine quickly through it. “Em, Kurt’s phone please,” Blaine requests before telling her goodnight as well, and Rob follows them out of the door, but stays far behind them to give them some privacy as they walk through the halls of the backstage area.

Blaine holds up a finger as they quickly make two sharp turns and head through a door that requires keycard access. Once they’re inside, he speaks again. “Sorry about that,” he sighs. Now that they’re in this part of the building, everyone who’s still here works for him and therefore, he feels much more comfortable talking to Kurt. He stops to address Kurt directly, giving him a bright smile, since they’ve been rushing since he first was introduced to him. “Again, I’m really, really glad you’re here. Did you enjoy the show?”

Kurt smiles back at him, all genuine and far less shocked and nervous now that he has a better handle on things, Blaine supposes. “Yeah, it was wonderful. You were wonderful. I’m really glad we came, we didn’t have tickets until like, six hours ago. We met some guy at a Starbucks we found on Craigslist,” he adds with a laugh, and oh. Kurt hadn’t planned on coming, which means his tweeting actually worked? No wonder he wasn’t right up front tonight. Damn. But that also means -

“I hope the guy didn’t rip you off,” Blaine comments with a frown, motioning for Kurt to start walking again towards his dressing room. He hates to see scalpers taking advantage of his fans at all, even though he knows it’s part of the business, but if Kurt and his friends paid an ungodly amount of money just because he and Blaine kept missing each other …

It’s Kurt’s turn to break into a giant smile. “No, we actually talked him down to just a little bit above face value because three tickets is such a random number to have to get rid of and it was like an hour before the doors opened. All of us have pretty serious bitch faces when we need to, so it wasn’t that difficult. We were originally just going to stay in Columbus and go shopping today before driving back home, but then, well … let’s just say everyone involved was pretty persuasive.” Kurt glances over at Blaine as they turn another corner, and Blaine notices that his cheeks are flushed. “Can I - I don’t mean to be overly cautious but where are we going?”

Blaine slows to walk closer to Kurt. “Oh! Sorry, I live in my head a lot, industry hazard. I just - I wanted to talk to you for more than three minutes and not in front of my whole staff, if that was alright? Because - I can’t even explain why, but you’ve wormed your way into my brain, and now you’re finally here, and that sounds totally horrible saying it out loud, I’m sorry. I was just hoping to talk to you for a bit, Kurt.”

Kurt ducks his head as they continue walking, grinning again, and says, “I wasn’t sure. Your friend back there asked me if I was gay or not. He said you just assume all of your guy fans are and he didn’t want you to make a fool out of yourself.”

Blaine snaps his head forward and god, now he’s blushing. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t blushed so hard in five years. “I’m going to kill Rob,” he mutters as they continue down the hallway, but Kurt just laughs. “So, ah, you said you drove over from Columbus today?” Blaine finally says, clearing his throat and changing the subject, and thankfully, Kurt goes with it.

“Yeah. We don’t even have a place to stay yet for tonight, hopefully one of the motels along 90 or 71 will have a vacancy.”

Blaine stops in his tracks. He knows the next offer that’s about to come out of his mouth is crossing so many boundaries, but it’s after eleven and he doesn’t really want to send three teenagers out into greaterCleveland and hope they find a room for the night in a sketchy motel. “You don’t have a place to stay? And there’s three of you?” When Kurt confirms, Blaine surges on, “We have extra rooms at the hotel we’re at. Rob can take your friends over now and it wouldn’t be any trouble, and then I’ll feel slightly better about you having to buy more tickets and drive all the way up here from Columbus just because I made some stupid tweets about seeing a really cute guy in the audience.”

Kurt blushes even more furiously at the really cute comment. “We - I didn’t mean - we can’t impose -”

Blaine furrows his brow and narrows his eyes, glancing at him like he’s ridiculous. “You’re not imposing, they’re already paid for.” It isn’t entirely true, but Blaine’s management usually does work out a deal to not rent out the rooms on the floor they stay on to regular guests unless absolutely necessary, so there will at least be a room available.

“Do you normally put cute guys up in your hotel? You do realize how that sounds?” The shock of Blaine’s offer has worn off, and Kurt’s eyeing him a little warily.

“Yes, but have you even been to Cleveland before? What if you end up in a bad part of town? What if something were to happen to you guys, and it was all my fault because you weren’t even planning on coming and you happened to fall into some unseemly company because you didn’t book a hotel room ahead of time?”

Kurt stares at him for a good long while before saying, “So, you’re just worrying about our well-being? Like my father or something?” The corner of his mouth twitches up into a half smile.

And get to know you and maybe get into your pants and hopefully not come off like a major creep, but details. Blaine keeps that part to himself. “Precisely! Is that alright? You don’t want me worrying all night if you guys are okay, do you? I wouldn’t sleep at all. It would be horrible.”

Blaine gives him his most charming smile, and Kurt scoffs and says, “You are the weirdest celebrity I’ve ever met, Blaine Anderson. You’re also the only one, because I’m pretty sure April Rhodes doesn’t count, but … oh my god.”

Blaine grins even wider, thrilled at getting his way. He backtracks a little to peek around the corner and see if Rob is still trailing them. “Rob!” Blaine shouts when he spots him, motioning for him to come over.

“Rob, Kurt and his dear friends ….”

He trails off, waiting for Kurt to supply the girls’ names. “Oh! Quinn and Mercedes.” Kurt’s back to looking a little overwhelmed.

“Kurt, Quinn, and Mercedes don’t have a place to stay tonight, so I’d like you to set them up in one of the rooms on our floor. They’re waiting in the lobby, right?” After a nod from Kurt, Blaine adds, “So maybe you could take them over now and get them set up so they don’t have to keep waiting.”

“Of … course. A word first though, Blaine?” The two of them step around the corner and Rob glares at him. “Do you know what a nightmare this could be, Blaine? How do we know these kids aren’t going to broadcast where we’re staying to the internet? What makes you want to trust them?”

“Because he tried to protest taking the room when I offered it. He was actually suspicious of it, truth be told. And, honestly, so what if they do? Some teenagers show up in the lobby and you throw them out, that’s what I pay you for.” Blaine claps Rob on the shoulder and smiles before turning on his heel and walking back to Kurt. “I’m guessing you guys have a car? So Mercedes and Quinn can just follow Rob back to the hotel.”

“Yeah - that, that’s fine. What about me?” Kurt asks, and oh god, he’s so adorable, Blaine can’t get over it.

Blaine tilts his head to the side, still smiling and replies, “Well, I have to go there eventually, and you can just come with me, if that’s okay.”

Kurt just ducks his head and fumbles in the pocket of his black jeans for his phone (they’re tight, oh god, but not as tight as his gold pants the night before). “I should probably call Mercedes and fill her in.”

Blaine takes a few steps away as to try not to eavesdrop but he can’t really help it when Kurt is whispering fiercely into the phone. “Mercedes! The bodyguard from earlier, Rob, he’s coming up to meet you and take you back to the hotel everyone’s staying at, they’re putting us up in a room … I know, shut up, just go with it, the chance of them killing us isn’t any higher than whatever horrible motel we found that would ignore our birthda- … yes, you get to drive my car, but just this once, and if you do anything to it I don’t know how to fix, I’m going to kill you. Just go and get settled and I’ll text you later. Yeah … yes … no! I’m hanging up on you now!”

“Everything okay?” Blaine asks amusedly as he walks back over to Kurt and on towards his dressing room.

“Yes … sorry … this is all just …” Kurt trails off, biting the corner of his lip as they finally arrived at the right door.

“Insane?” Blaine supplies, opening it for him and motioning for him to step inside. “Do you like coffee? I always have some after a show, it’s not like I can sleep anyway.” Blaine walks over to the self-serve coffee maker and makes a selection for himself as he grabs two mugs from the shelf.

“Coffee would be great,” Kurt says as he has a seat on the couch.

“Sorry, I’m gonna change too if you don’t mind,” Blaine adds, grabbing the tee and sweatpants he wore to the arena and stepping behind the partition on the far side of the room. He notices Kurt’s eyes widen a bit as he diverts his gaze and he really didn’t think that through, he supposes, but those damn leather pants he wore for the meet and greet photos are so uncomfortable.

Blaine’s not a pop star who keeps his stage presence on constantly - he has no issue with dressing down, especially when he’s just running to and from rehearsal or a show. He’s probably accumulated almost a dozen pairs of these stupid sweatpants at this point - because honestly, when he found a style that made his ass look this amazing, he had to buy multiples. If you’re going to dress down, at least look good while doing it. “So, Kurt, if you’re not actually from Columbus or Cleveland, where are you from? I would hope it’s somewhere in Ohio at least,” he teases as he slowly peels the pants down his legs.

“I’m from Lima,” Kurt says. “I’m in high school there. My friends and I are all in glee club, and our costumes on Friday were for an assignment - theatricality.”

Blaine grins as he pulls the faded Dalton tee over his head and walks back to the other side. “Your costumes were seriously amazing. Yours was the best one of them all. Rob wanted to bring you backstage that night, all of you, but he couldn’t find you after the show was over. Cream or sugar?” Kurt nods and Blaine stirs up their coffee before handing him a mug and sitting in a chair across from the couch.

“Rachel … everyone would kill Rachel if they knew. We had to rush out because she was being a drama queen … and then last night I was kind of freaked out being in Columbus by myself, so I left before the encore so I wouldn’t have a problem in the parking lot. The girls drove with me to Columbus but they just kept me company on the drive and like I said, we were just all going to go shopping today. They didn’t have tickets to the concert. I didn’t want to have any trouble with anything since I was alone, I don’t know. I guess I was being a little bit of a drama queen.” Kurt shrugs and sips his coffee.

“And then some idiot had to throw out some cryptic tweets and sent you on a wild goose chase?” Blaine says, wincing before taking a sip of his own coffee.

“I was convinced it was about something else. That’s why I told Mercedes and Quinn I’d only come today if they came with me. And then by the time they had me convinced that it might possibly be about me … no, nevermind,” Kurt says, stopping himself and busying himself with drinking more coffee. “It’s too embarrassing.”

Blaine pretends to be offended. “Excuse you, what’s more embarrassing than trying to track someone down by exploiting their three million twitter followers?”

Kurt quirks an eyebrow at him over his coffee mug. “That is true. I mean, they don’t know they were being exploited but …” He pauses, as if pondering whether or not to say it, and then sighs. “So, I thought even if it was about me, that surely you do this all the time or something and I just hadn’t noticed. We went pretty far back on your twitter feed last night checking … you tweet a lot, by the way.”

“I don’t. I don’t do this all the time. I don’t ever do this,” Blaine says simply, because he doesn’t. Anyone he meets on tour is purely for that purpose - someone to bring home for the night, and to never see again. It happens far less often than people think. It’s not someone he pursues or wants to spend time getting to know or knows he wants to see again … all things he knows to be true from the little time he’s been with Kurt.

“You don’t,” Kurt repeats, as if he suddenly understands, and then - “Why me?”

“Why not you?” Blaine counters. “The first night I saw you, I was drawn to you - out of all those people, out of all those people I could barely see, because do you know how hard it is to make anyone out with those blinding lights on stage? I want to learn everything about you. I can’t explain it.” Kurt’s looking at him like he’s speaking another language. Blaine laughs lightly and prompts again. “You should tell me more about yourself.”

“Okay,” he says finally, laughing like he still can’t believe this is happening. “I’m an only child, and I live with my dad. It’s just us; my mom died when I was little. He’s dating a lady named Carole - her son Finn and I are in the same grade at school. We didn’t get along for a while, but things are better now. My dad and Carole are getting really close, I wouldn’t be surprised if they get married before we graduate. It’s good for him, I think. I’m glad he has someone, because I want to go to New York for college and I’m glad he won’t be alone.”

“Yeah? What do you want to study in New York?”

They talk for over an hour, and Blaine learns that while Kurt has never actually been to New York, he wants to study musical theater there. He learns that he works at his dad’s garage sometimes for extra cash, that he has a killer wardrobe and if the theater thing doesn’t work out he might do something with fashion as a backup. Kurt tells stories of glee club and how different this school year was compared to last year, though his school still sucks. Blaine can relate to all of that, having grown up in Westerville himself.

Finally Susan pokes her head in apologetically. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but some of us are dying to get out of here. Can you continue this conversation elsewhere?”

Blaine feels like an idiot for holding everyone up, because it’s twelve-thirty-four according to the clock on the wall, and while most everyone has cleared out, Susan and Rob can’t leave until they all head back to the hotel together, and surely there are people that work for the stadium that can’t leave until after they do. “Yeah, sorry, give us two minutes,” Blaine says sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, which is still lightly gelled and hairsprayed from the show. He takes Kurt’s empty mug and Kurt shakes his head, grinning a little. “What?”

“This is all just … so surreal still. I mean, you’re this big celebrity, and here you are, after a huge concert, in sweatpants drinking coffee with me. Who would have guessed? Well, maybe the sweatpants, I’ve seen pi-”

Kurt stops himself abruptly, and Blaine knows he was going to say he’s seen photos of him in the sweatpants. He does wear them all the time. Blaine wonders how long he’s been a fan, how involved he is online beyond following his twitter, but he doesn’t dare ask for fear of making Kurt uncomfortable.

“I know, my amazing image is shattered.” He offers Kurt his hand to help him off the couch, then they leave the room to find Rob and the car that’s waiting for them.

Susan and Rob are in the front seat, Kurt and Blaine in the back, and once they’re moving, Susan turns around to address them, passing them each an envelope with room keys in them, as well as Blaine’s phone. “We weren’t sure if your friends were waiting up for you or not, Kurt, so there’s a key to your room.” Blaine’s already checked in, but Susan holds onto his keys since he can’t keep anything straight, and he usually gets his phone back from her after the meet and greet unless he needs it in between a show and then, but obviously he was preoccupied tonight.

“Thanks,” he says, quickly scrolling through his notifications - god, he hasn’t checked them in five hours at this point.

“You didn’t even know you were missing that, did you?” He can hear the smirk in Susan’s voice. “Tweet something about tonight before you get inside and forget you have it again.”

Blaine thinks. The show seems so long ago now. shoutout to my backup guys & gals who made the show EXTRA SPECIAL tonight. cleveland saw their magic! love my tour family! He then thinks of who has twitter and likes to be pimped out and at-replies all of them with a dash in front. It looks like some of them are posting photos from their own shenanigans from tonight and that’ll keep people busy trying to figure out if he’s with them.

Kurt’s phone vibrates with a text and he pulls it out quickly to silence it. Blaine doesn’t think anything of it. It could be the girls texting him to see if he’s ever coming back to the room. When the second text comes through, though, he has to stifle a laugh. Kurt mumbles something about unlimited texting and having lots of people on mobile notification. He busies himself with typing something, probably a text to Quinn and Mercedes on the status of his whereabouts, and Blaine doesn’t say a word.

Rob pulls up to the Ritz-Carlton and they wait while he checks the lobby and then ushers them to the elevator. “Goodnight, gentlemen, sleep tight,” he says as the doors close, and Kurt palms his pockets for his key.

“I didn’t even look to see what my room number is.”

“You’ll be on the same floor. We book out a floor, just in case. But did you want to come to my room? We could keep talking, we kind of got kicked out before. Unless you’re tired. You’re probably tired!” Blaine’s rambling, he knows it. His palms are starting to get a little clammy. This kid is making him nervous, what the hell.

“I’m not tired,” Kurt says quickly. “I’d like that.”

“Okay. Okay, good,” Blaine says, breathing a little sigh of relief. Since he knows exactly where his room is, when the elevator door opens, he grabs Kurt’s hand on instinct, warm and pliant in his, and leads him down the hallway, marveling at how Kurt’s long fingers intertwine with his shorter ones, the solid weight he feels as they walk. When they arrive at the hotel room door and Blaine retrieves his hand to open it with his key, he notices Kurt stretching his hand a little as if it’s tingling.

He feels the same way, even though he knows it’s all in his mind.

“Do you want anything else to drink? Water or a soda or anything?” Blaine asks, toeing off his shoes once he’s inside. The suite has a seating area separate from the bedroom, and Blaine wishes it didn’t right about now, because he really wants to lie in bed. Not for any nefarious purposes, but because touring is exhausting and his body is protesting now that it’s seen a comfortable mattress with tons of pillows. Unfortunately, he can’t think of any way to suggest that when there’s a perfectly good couch and chair for them to use, so after Kurt refuses his hostly offers of beverages, he rolls his shoulder and collapses on the couch, hoping Kurt doesn’t mind the chair this time.

“Sorry, I’m not actually tired, my body is just angry that it had five shows in a row with no night off,” Blaine explains, gesturing to the chair as he massages the heel of his hand into his clavicle. “Feel free to get a little more comfortable.”

Kurt gingerly removes his leather jacket and places it on the back of the chair, revealing the same short sleeved tight white tee from the night before and sits down to remove his short black boots. “I can imagine everything takes a lot out of you,” he says, lining them up side by side next to the chair.

“Yeah, I mean, I love what I do and wouldn’t change a thing, but it’s brutal sometimes. We try not to do more than four shows in a row, but the scheduling lined up this way. Nothing until Thursday now though, so it’s worth it. My shoulder still gives me problems every once in a while because of some issues in high school.” Blaine sighs, rolling his shoulder again into the couch cushions and closing his eyes, and when he opens them, Kurt is hovering over him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Kurt blurts out quickly, lowering himself to the couch next to Blaine. “You said it was your shoulder? Do you mind if I try something?”

Blaine sits up with his back to Kurt and he feels Kurt place a hand on the shoulder he’s been rolling to work out the kink. Kurt runs his fingers along the top of it, as if he’s searching for something, and then presses his thumbs into a spot in between his neck and shoulder, kneading in slow, but forceful, circles. “Oh,” Blaine murmurs as Kurt continues to work at it, the warmth from his touch radiating over his skin, and Blaine begins to wonder how Kurt’s hands would feel on him if there wasn’t a thin layer of cotton between them.

“Better?” Kurt asks a few minutes later, after the only sound in the room is their steady breathing. Before Blaine can even answer, he says, “Carole, my dad’s girlfriend, gets these tension headaches, and I had a really awful one during finals last month. She showed me that trick. Apparently there’s a pressure point there, among other places, and I thought that might give you a little bit of relief.”

“It did. Thanks,” Blaine says, soft and sincere as he turns around to face Kurt. He puts a bit more space in between them on the couch because the air seems heavier than it did before, like there’s some sort of charged energy surrounding them. “I could keep talking about you all night, but is there anything you want to ask me?” he asks, smiling and propping his arm up against the back of the couch to rest his head on it.

Kurt’s eyes slip shut, as if he’s deep in thought and can’t decide where to begin. “What’s it like? To be up there on that stage and know that everyone is there for you, that everyone is going to be hanging on your every word, every last note you sing? I’ve never even gotten a competition solo.”

Blaine can hear it in his voice, how badly he wants it, how much he craves the stage, not only for the sake of performing but to get out of Lima, out of Ohio. “It’s … indescribable. Nerve wracking, at first, but then it’s almost like you have a relationship with the stage, a relationship with the audience. Each time it’s different, and that’s what keeps you going. Even when you’re falling apart at the end of the night.” Blaine stares directly into Kurt’s eyes as he continues,wanting Kurt to really believe him. “You’re going to make it in whatever you pursue, Kurt, I can see so much determination in you. The fire in your eyes. Never give up that spark.”

“It’s nice to know someone believes in me. Other than myself and my dad,” Kurt adds, averting his gaze from Blaine’s and laughing.

“We’ll start the fanclub. Your dad can be president, I’ll be his VP. Of course, I think that would require me actually having to hear you sing,” Blaine prompts, not expecting him to actually take the bait.

“And when he said he wants somebody else, I hope you know that he doesn't mean you. And when he breaks down and makes a sound, you'll never hear him the way that I do.”

Kurt’s voice is high and clear and like nothing Blaine has ever heard. He’s singing one of Blaine’s songs, ‘He Says.’ It’s not off his latest album, but his first one, and Blaine is completely entranced and blown away. It’s not one of his more popular songs. It was never a single because it’s more singer-songwriter than even the slowest of his songs (and no radio station would dare play it with the pronouns the way they are), but it’s one Blaine’s always loved and fought to have on his debut album. He’s not quite sure if Kurt knew it was special to him, or if Kurt just happens to love it too.

When Kurt’s done, Blaine starts clapping slowly, mouth gaping a little. “I’m really glad I don’t sing that song very often, because it’s not mine anymore. You owned that. It belongs to you now. Your voice is beautiful, Kurt.”

Kurt grins so wide, Blaine thinks his cheekbones might fall off. “Yeah? There’s really not a place for me -”

“You’ll make your own place. You’ll figure it out, because like I said, I’m blown away. I - I’m speechless. I’m not speechless often.”

Blaine had somehow gravitated closer to Kurt while he sang, that buffer he put between them completely gone. His knee brushes against Kurt’s, and the tip of Kurt’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t, and oh god, Blaine’s heart is beating so fast and he wants to kiss Kurt so bad. Now his eyes are transfixed on Kurt’s lips and he’s truly speechless, his own tongue too large for his mouth.

“Blaine,” Kurt hums as he places a hand on his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers five points of pressure in his skin. His voice is lower, almost sultry, and if Blaine was worried about not having a sign before about them both being on the same page, this is his sign. Kurt looks at him expectantly and rakes his fingernails down Blaine’s arm. Apparently, he takes too long, because Kurt runs his hand to the back of his neck and pulls him closer, so their faces are only inches apart. Blaine stares into his eyeliner-smudged blue-green eyes (a few hours ago, he only knew the color of Kurt’s pants and now he knows the color of his eyes and wants to get lost in them, oh god), and as much as he wants to throw caution to the wind, he still has to ask.

“Please tell me you’re eighteen,” he begs, and he’s literally begging. He actually doesn’t care if Kurt’s younger, if Kurt lies and tells him he is, that’s good enough for him.

Unfortunately, Kurt doesn’t get the memo, because he freezes. “I - I just turned seventeen last month,” he replies quietly, and Blaine’s head drops to his shoulder with a sigh. “The age of consent in Ohio’s sixteen though, earlier in the year I was going out with this guy that was nineteen and I had to look it up in case the guys at school were assholes about it.”

Blaine grins against Kurt’s shoulder at the fact that Kurt’s already been able to date in Ohio in high school; he didn’t have the pleasure of dating until he’d moved out to Los Angeles. “I know,” he says, pulling back to address Kurt directly, “but I’m famous. It’s not just the law, it’s what would make a story if it got out. Trust me, I want to kiss you, and I know you wouldn’t say anything, but if anyone saw -”

“If you want to kiss me, then kiss me,” Kurt says softly cutting Blaine off and tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. “Blaine, no one saw anything, and no offense, even if they did, they could already make up whatever they want, because you already invited me in here. We might as well get something good out of it …”

Kurt doesn’t wait for him to answer, just closes the gap between them and presses his lips to Blaine’s. Blaine isn’t stupid, he kisses back with fervor, running his arms up along Kurt’s back to keep him close because he might have been slow to convince, but now that it’s happening, he’s not letting Kurt go. His mouth fits against Kurt’s like that’s where it belongs, lips sliding against lips like nothing could possibly be better. The room is silent, save for the barely-there breathy gasps Kurt lets out every so often that Blaine can’t get enough of. Blaine wants to lay him out on the bed and kiss him everywhere and see what other noises he can elicit.

“Oh my god,” Kurt breathes out when he finally breaks away to catch a breath, shaky and stuttering. His hand drops from Blaine’s neck to the couch, and he’s staring at Blaine as if he’s not sure he’s real. Blaine’s feeling the same way about him.

“Yeah,” Blaine pants, wiping at his forehead where he still has residue from the stage makeup from earlier. “Why didn’t you tell me you are not only the most interesting kid in all of Ohio, but the best kisser as well?”

Kurt quirks an eyebrow, his chest still heaving a little and says, “Are you trying to tell me you’ve kissed all of Ohio? Tsk tsk, Blaine. Unfortunately, I don’t really believe you since you’ve shown me your post-show ritual of coffee and sweatpants.”

Blaine furrows his brow before saying, “That sounds like a challenge. As if I haven’t shown you a good time so far and I need to make up for it.”

Kurt clears his throat before tilting his head back a little, the long expanse of his neck and collarbone visible just above the crewneck of his tee. “I certainly wouldn’t stop you.”

Blaine yanks at his tee, colliding their bodies together and causing them to fall backwards onto the couch with a surprised yelp. He gasps against Kurt’s lips as he turns them so they’re side by side, thankful that the couch is big enough for both of them but still small enough that Kurt’s body is tucked close to his, limbs tangled together from his sudden ambush, legs entwined, arms roving, hands searching.

With each press of their lips together, Blaine is left wanting more, like he can’t get enough of this beautiful creature who happened to fall into his life. Kurt’s expression is playful, his eyes gleaming, his lips curving into more of a smile with each and every single kiss. He angles his head to deepen one of them, nuzzling his nose against Blaine’s cheek, and Blaine’s hands find his hips, fingers digging at the pockets of his jeans to bring him even closer still. Kurt laughs a little as he kisses the corner of Blaine’s mouth and Blaine hums questioningly in response.

“It’s just - I can’t believe I’m kissing you,” Kurt whispers, almost shyly, and Blaine has to hand it to him, because the main reason Blaine wanted him so badly is because he had no clue he was barely seventeen. Had this happened to Blaine when he was barely seventeen, the gig would have been ruined before it even got started. Kurt must be freaking out inside, and Blaine’s had no clue up until this point.

“Well, I can’t believe I’m kissing you either,” Blaine counters, and Kurt rolls his eyes, and there it is, the sass that Blaine’s already come to know that means Kurt can handle himself just fine.

Blaine isn’t exactly proud of the whimper that escapes his lips when Kurt tugs at the same corner of his lip gently with his teeth, but it seems to just embolden him, the pace quickening and kisses becoming more frantic, both of their breathing becoming heavier and more erratic. Blaine tentatively runs a hand along Kurt’s side, and he arches into the touch with a moan, breathing sharply against Blaine’s neck. Apparently Kurt can’t get enough of him either.

“Y-yeah?” Blaine sighs around the question as his hand trails back down. Kurt nods as his eyes slip closed, tilting his head back up to kiss him a bit slower, changing directions and opening his mouth ever so slightly to invite Blaine’s tongue in. He takes the invitation, slipping his tongue between Kurt’s lips as his hand toys with the hem of Kurt’s shirt. Kurt’s fingers tangle tighter in Blaine’s tee where his hand is fisted, pulling him closer as they kiss, slow and wet and Blaine can’t remember the last time he’s just kissed someone with no other goal in sight.

As much as Blaine wants (and oh, does he want), he’d also be perfectly content kissing Kurt silly all night. He’s unsure as to what, if anything, Kurt’s done with the guy he went out with (but it was obviously something, because he wasn’t teasing when he said Kurt was a good kisser, good lord), but he’s letting Kurt make that call to go any further.

Their hips shift as Kurt continues to pull Blaine closer, legs slipping between each other, and Kurt’s cock brushes his thigh, already hard in his tight jeans. Blaine shifts to the side so Kurt can feel he’s hard in his sweatpants too, and he groans, grabbing Blaine’s hips to steady him so he can rut against his thigh. “Oh god, Blaine, you’re so-”

Kurt throws his head back a little, getting lost in it, and once he gets over how goddamn gorgeous he is in that moment, Blaine takes the opportunity to explore the column of his neck with his tongue, laving over the hard lines and soft flesh. “Blaine - Blaine, can I -” Kurt gasps, fingers scrabbling at the back of his neck, and Blaine’s unsure what he’s asking for, but he grunts out something resembling a yes because Kurt can have anything of his he wants.

Kurt’s palms find the swell of Blaine’s ass, tugging him closer until their hips slot together just so, their cocks brushing against each other. Blaine groans loud against his neck, rolling his hips against Kurt’s, which makes his grip tighten. They rock like that, delicious friction building between them through far too much fabric, Blaine mouthing at Kurt’s neck before he realizes sending him out into the world all marked up will do nothing to support his paranoia of ‘nothing happened.’

“C’mere,” Blaine whispers, haltingly, nosing at Kurt’s chin until he ducks his head and Blaine can reach his mouth once more. Their kisses are off-center and messy at this point, arousal taking over and making it hard to focus on anything unrelated to getting them off. Blaine’s starting to get close, between Kurt’s gorgeous hands still firmly planted on his ass and Kurt’s cock hard against his (which, okay he hasn’t seen, but he’s willing to bet it’s gorgeous anyway), he knows he won’t last much longer.

“B-Blaine, I-” Kurt stutters, hips pistoning forward as one of his hands moves up Blaine’s back, under his shirt, fingernails grasping at bare skin for something to hold onto. He thrusts one last time before dropping his mouth wide open, but no sound comes out as his orgasm hits, Blaine watching on in pure adulation. He always gets something out of watching someone come, but Kurt’s expression is purely euphoric. Blaine hasn’t ever attempted to write his own music, and yet he suddenly understands why people might feel compelled to.

When Kurt comes down, he kisses Blaine once, slow and sweet, before whispering, “Now you,” directly into his ear. The burst of hot air makes him shiver, and Kurt just laughs as he slides his knee between Blaine’s legs, his fingers dancing down the back of Blaine’s sweatpants. Blaine jumps, because he’s so close and Kurt is teasing and he just needs a little bit more …

Kurt just smirks, as if to say he knew Blaine liked him grabbing his ass, and gives him the friction that he needs. Kurt keeps licking at the same spot under his ear, obviously not caring if he marks him up, perhaps wanting to, as Blaine ruts against his thigh, digging his fingers into Kurt’s bicep just before he comes at last. Kurt’s blinking at him when he finally opens his eyes, staring at him in disbelief for probably the tenth time that night.

“You okay there?” Blaine asks, grinning a little goofily, because orgasms always make him stupid and silly and giddy.

“Yeah, I just - I still can’t -” Kurt trails off, shaking his head and saying nothing besides matching Blaine’s grin and leaning over for one more kiss. Blaine doesn’t prompt him for anything else, lets him have his moment. He winces as he rolls back over, and Blaine immediately wonders what he’s done wrong, but Kurt quickly says, “I, ah, am going to need a shower sooner rather than later.”

Blaine’s eyes widen. He really doesn’t want Kurt to leave yet. “Oh. Oh! Well, you could use mine. I’m sure your friends are asleep by now, you don’t want to wake them up, so if you stay here you could take your time and I could lend you something to wear. Plus,” he whispers, lowering his voice, hoping Kurt will buy his lousy excuses and stay, “I have the suite, so my shower is going to be way better.”

“Yeah?” Kurt asks, seeming to ponder the offer. “I guess that sounds like the more reasonable solution. You sure that’s okay?”

“Of course! There are towels and stuff in there, so just let me know if you need anything.” Kurt smiles at him and gives him one last kiss before getting up off the couch gingerly.

Blaine figures he should be the gentleman and wait outside, as much as he wants to head to the bathroom and rip Kurt’s clothes off. He’s lost in his own thoughts, trying to think of decidedly unsexy things since he knows Kurt is going to be naked in minutes a wall away and he’s not going to be there to see it, when he realizes Kurt’s paused in the bathroom doorway and is about to say something.

“I was thinking, it really isn’t fair to hog your shower. I mean, you need to use it just as much as I do, and you haven’t even been able to take one after the show because you’ve been entertaining me.” Kurt pauses for a moment, as if he’s pondering something, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say, before smiling softly and asking, “Did you maybe want to join me?”

“I would love to,” Blaine replies almost too quickly, getting up off the couch to join him in the doorway, unable to contain the excitement in his voice. Kurt just chuckles and casts his gaze downward, and Blaine knows he keeps thinking he can’t believe this is happening to him, but Blaine honestly can’t either, and all he wants is to figure out a way to make the night go on for as long as possible.