Fic: Glee: Than the Sum of its Parts (Kurt/Blaine, this part PG) 1/5
Finally. I have been working on this fic for over a month around caring for a busy museling and other RL necessities. It has been a joy to write, when I haven't been banging my head against the wall, and I'm both thrilled and terrified to share it with you.
It is a story in five parts, and I will be posting one each day through Friday.
Title: "Than the Sum of its Parts" 1/5
Author: flaming muse
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: overall R, this part PG
Word count: overall 30k+, this part 3800
Summary: The whole of Kurt and Blaine’s relationship is greater than the sum of its parts. Scenes of two boys in love.
Spoilers: the story starts during 2x16 (“Original Song”) and ends in the summer after 2x22 (“New York”)
Warnings: unrepentant fluff
Disclaimers: The characters belong to various corporate Powers That Be. I make absolutely no profit from playing with them.
Distribution: Please ask.
Feedback is lovely!
This fic is now a podfic!
Endless (seriously, endless) thanks to stoney321, without whose boundless patience and enthusiasm (and laughter with and at me) this fic would have been three scenes long and far less fun to write. I could not have done it without her. Also thanks to bethynyc for her eye for detail. They did their best with me; all remaining errors and awkward turns of phrase are mine and mine alone.
Without much in canon to guide us, I have modeled this Dalton after the private high school (a mix of boarding and day) I attended some years ago. It was co-ed, and we didn't have uniforms beyond the ubiquitous white dresses for girls and navy blazers for boys at certain ceremonies like commencement, but the members of the boys' a capella group were in fact like rock stars, and there was a serious no bullying policy in place, including anti-gay bullying, which was a big deal for the time.
***
Blaine is almost late for Warblers practice the day after he starts dating Kurt.
He all but runs down the hall, having been pulled aside by his History teacher after class because he’d been daydreaming about Kurt the entire period, and he comes rushing in at the last minute, leaping down the stairs as Wes calls the session to order.
He scans the room for a frantic moment before he finds Kurt’s familiar face - and he should have realized he had feelings ages ago, because the flip of his stomach when he sees Kurt’s smile is anything but new - and he finds himself letting out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and smiling, himself, as he saunters over and slides onto the couch next to Kurt. Next to his boyfriend. He leans a little into Kurt, just because he can, and feels the answering press of Kurt’s shoulder against his.
Blaine listens to Wes for a minute before zoning out on memories of yesterday’s amazing kisses and then realizes that he doesn’t actually have to sit here and daydream. Not that he’s going to kiss Kurt in the middle of practice, at least not today, but he can do more than think about him. His heart catches in his throat for a second at just how incredible that idea is.
Not taking his eyes off of Wes, Blaine places his hand palm up on his right leg, which is pressed against Kurt’s. He jogs Kurt’s elbow with his own, then wiggles his fingers to indicate his intentions.
Kurt doesn’t move, and as Blaine’s confidence turns into fear that he had done something wrong or that Kurt had changed his mind about Blaine in the two hours it had been since they’d seen each other at lunch he glances over at Kurt, who is staring at his hand. His eyes are wide and round, and Blaine watches as the absolute shock in them turns to wonder. Kurt’s mouth twitches like he’s fighting to maintain his calm expression, and without meeting Blaine’s eyes he squares his shoulders and regally places his hand in Blaine’s.
Blaine doesn’t even try not to grin, and he laces their fingers together and puts his free hand on top. Wes drones on and on about their travel arrangements for Regionals and the changes to their rehearsal schedule. Blaine half-listens but mostly tortures himself by stroking the back of Kurt’s hand and letting his fingers drift just under the edge of his shirt cuff. It is tame, he knows, but he’s still kind of dizzy with it. Kurt’s skin is soft, and it’s his to touch. It is the best thing ever.
Then Blaine brushes his thumb over the inside of Kurt’s wrist where his pulse is fluttering, and Kurt snatches his hand back in the blink of an eye. Blaine looks over at him in dismay, his heart sinking. He immediately thinks of Kurt telling him that he likes romance where the touch of fingers is the ultimate goal, and even though Kurt had been a very willing participant in the previous day’s kisses, maybe Blaine has pushed too far too fast, though if touching his wrist is too fast then Blaine is going to die from desire. He can be good, he can be respectful, but he’s going to die from it.
But then he really looks at Kurt and realizes that Kurt doesn’t actually seem scared or upset. His eyes are dark and glassy, his ears are bright red, he’s breathing fast, and he’s got his other hand clamped tight around the wrist Blaine had just been caressing, his thumb pressed against his pulse point.
Oh, thinks Blaine. He likes it. I did that.
Somehow he manages not to grab Kurt’s hand back or bounce out of his seat with the sheer giddiness of the realization.
*
The next day Kurt and Blaine go for a walk around campus. It’s a grey, cold day, and the only other people outside are rushing from one building to the next with their heads tucked down in the collars of their coats.
Blaine doesn’t mind. He likes the weather. Well, he likes pretty much every kind of weather, really, and Kurt is never upset about having an excuse to wear a scarf, so they stroll hand-in-hand past the soccer fields and into the arboretum. They talk about nothing in particular: their days, David’s crazy freak-out at lunch over the deli bar running out of provolone, their upcoming school projects. It’s exactly the kind of thing they would have done earlier in the week, except that Kurt’s hand is tight in Blaine’s, and the corner of his mouth keeps lifting in a smile that makes Blaine’s heart race each time it appears. Blaine knows he’s far less successful at keeping his own grin off his face.
Finally they settle side-by-side on a low stone retaining wall, and Blaine finds himself telling Kurt this hysterical story about the time last year when Jeff replaced Wes’ gavel with a rubber one. It’s one of his favorites. He stops mid-gesture, though, when he realizes about halfway through that Kurt’s smile has nothing to do with Wes’ antics.
“Kurt?” Blaine asks.
Kurt blinks and flushes, shaking his head. “I’m listening. Please.” He indicates with a sweep of his fingers that Blaine should continue.
“No, what were you thinking about?”
“You,” Kurt admits.
Blaine buzzes with delight and asks, “What about me?”
Kurt glances over Blaine’s shoulder, a flash of nerves crossing his face, before he meets Blaine’s eyes again. “I was thinking I wanted to kiss you.”
“You can,” Blaine tells him softly because he can’t quite catch his breath to make the words come out any louder.
The smile returns, even brighter now, and Kurt says, “I know.” He cups Blaine’s cheek with cool fingers and leans in and brings their mouths together. The kiss is soft, sweet, and yet still makes Blaine feel like he’s on some sort of spinning rollercoaster ride. He takes a shaky breath and anchors himself with a hand in the fabric of the sleeve of Kurt’s wool coat.
Kurt pulls back far too soon, leaving his hand on Blaine’s face. His thumb strokes gently over Blaine’s cheekbone. He looks so happy, and Blaine knows just how he feels.
It isn’t often that Blaine is at a loss for words, but he doesn’t know how to tell Kurt how incredible it is to have him. It isn’t just that Blaine is amazed by having an actual boyfriend, though that’s pretty awesome by itself, but that it’s Kurt. It’s Kurt, who is strong and cutting and funny and smart and creative and beneath it all a really good friend. It’s Kurt, who Blaine knows will fight for him the way he fights for everything else. It’s Kurt, who can cry over a bird and stand up to bullies and tell Blaine when he’s being an idiot and still remember his coffee order at the end of the day.
Blaine would never have thought he was in love with Jeremiah if he’d fallen for anyone before like he has for Kurt. One is a crush; the other is a connection. And Kurt had gotten that long ago and had still been his friend through all of Blaine’s stupidity.
But Blaine doesn’t know how to say any of that, since he can hardly make sense of it in his own head, so all he can do is cover Kurt’s hand with his own and press a gentle kiss into Kurt’s palm.
Kurt’s eyes sparkle at the gesture, and Blaine does it again to see if he can tease that smile to grow a little wider. He drags his mouth down to the base of Kurt’s thumb, which earns him a soft gasp, and he remembers yesterday’s reaction and carefully inches back the cuff of Kurt’s sleeve.
The smile on Kurt’s face is suddenly gone, replaced by an intense focus on the path of Blaine’s fingers. He can hear Kurt’s breathing speed up, and when he touches his mouth to the inside of Kurt’s wrist, his eyes locked on his face, Blaine can see the flush rise on Kurt’s cheeks and his pupils grow wide with desire. Kurt makes the single most addictive sound Blaine has ever heard, a low moan that Kurt chokes off almost immediately. Kurt’s eyes shut for a moment, and they open lazily as Blaine moves his mouth away, his hands still cradling Kurt’s.
“Blaine,” Kurt whispers, like he can’t believe any of it is actually real, and then he’s pulling Blaine in for a heated, take no prisoners kiss. About two seconds in, Blaine loses the ability to think, and he meets Kurt kiss for kiss, one hand on Kurt’s cheek and the other twined with Kurt’s between them.
It is the most incredible thing Blaine has ever experienced, not just Kurt’s mouth but everything about it: the puff of Kurt’s breath against his cheek, the flex of Kurt’s fingers in his when Blaine touches his tongue to Kurt’s soft palate, the soft, needy sounds they both make as they kiss and kiss and kiss. It’s like nothing he could have imagined. It’s better than he could have ever imagined. And they’re only kissing.
A while later, when they are both flushed and dazed, a gust of icy wind forces them to pull apart.
“We should probably go someplace warmer,” Kurt says, and his voice has a hoarseness to it that Blaine put there, and, god, now he wants to put it there every second of the day.
“I like how you’ve been keeping me warm,” Blaine tells him, and Kurt rolls his eyes and rises to his feet. He holds out a hand to Blaine, who takes it and stands, too. Now that he’s not totally wrapped up in Kurt he realizes that it is getting kind of bitter outside and the color of Kurt’s ears seems to be more due to the wind than Blaine’s attentions. Blaine feels warm to his bones, though. “It’s better than thinsulate, no matter what Thad says about camping gear.” He manages not to hit himself in the forehead, but he can’t believe he’s talking about camping instead of the million other more important things he’d rather be saying to Kurt.
“I think all of this cold has done something dire to your brain,” Kurt says fondly as they fall into step back toward the main part of campus.
“No, that’s just you,” Blaine replies, and it’s totally true.
*
Blaine does not spend his entire lunch period on Tuesday watching the clock in the dining hall. He only spends most of it with it squarely in the corner of his eye, because he’s eating with Wes and David, and they deserve his attention, too.
The thing is, though, that it’s a Tuesday, and he doesn’t see Kurt much on Tuesdays. Their free periods don’t overlap, their classes are such that they don’t pass each other in the halls, and they don’t even have lunch at the same time. Kurt has History late, and Blaine has Psych early over the rolling lunch period. Blaine hasn’t been fond of Tuesdays pretty much since Kurt enrolled at Dalton, but now it’s even worse.
Blaine watches the clock tick to the end of Kurt’s class period, which means that it’s time for him to go to class. He fiddles with his water glass and wonders how late he can push it and how fast he can run across campus.
“We have to go,” Wes says. “Blaine. Blaine.” When Blaine looks up, Wes repeats a little more kindly, “We have to go to Psych. Zimmer will kill us if we’re late.”
“Yeah.” Blaine stands up with a sigh, and if he takes slightly longer than necessary to drop his tray off he can’t really help it.
As he and Wes reach the main doors to the quad, Kurt walks through them. He looks flushed and is breathing a little hard, like he’d been rushing to get to lunch, and he stops in his tracks and breaks into a wide smile when he sees Blaine. He tempers it almost immediately, but it still makes Blaine’s heart pound.
“Hi, Kurt,” Blaine says.
“Hi, Blaine.” Kurt bounces on his toes a little, his hands on the strap of his bag. He looks great, his hair tousled by the wind and his eyes sparkling.
They stand there for a moment, just smiling at each other, until Wes rolls his eyes and says, “We have to get to class. See you at rehearsal, Kurt.”
“Of course. See you at rehearsal,” Kurt replies, but Blaine knows the words are really for him alone.
Blaine touches Kurt’s arm as he walks by, Kurt watches them until the doors close between them, and Blaine smiles the whole way to Psych.
*
Blaine would know Kurt’s voice anywhere. That’s not new, really, because his speaking voice captured Blaine’s attention from their very first conversation, and he’s the only countertenor at Dalton, so he stands out when he sings at the high end of his range. Still, now that they’re dating, it’s like Blaine has Kurt-radar. He always seems to notice Kurt immediately among dozens of identically dressed students walking on the far side of the quad. He finds himself focused on Kurt’s harmonies while they’re singing warm-ups. He can pick out Kurt’s laugh across the crowded dining hall even at the busiest lunch hour.
So it’s no surprise, then, that when he hears muted singing in the back stairwell on his way to fourth period he immediately knows that it’s Kurt, despite the fact that he ought to be on the other side of campus right now. Blaine waves Trent on and opens the door to the stairs.
Blaine steps onto the landing and looks over the railing to see the top of a head he’d know anywhere. It’s Kurt, and he’s singing. His voice is soft, but the notes soar. It’s beautiful. Blaine clutches the banister and makes himself stand still so that he doesn’t interrupt.
“He tucks it right under his chin, and he bows, oh, he bows, for he knows, yes, he knows - ” Kurt cuts off and jerks to a halt when he rounds the corner and sees Blaine standing on the landing. He loses the tension in his shoulders and resumes his rapid pace up the stairs when he realizes who it is. “Hello there.”
“Hi. Sorry I startled you,” Blaine says when Kurt reaches him. "I heard you singing."
Kurt’s smile fades, and he touches his hair, flustered. "I thought I was being quiet."
“You were. I have Kurt-radar.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” Blaine says with a shake of his head. “What are you doing over here? I thought you had French.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, like Blaine hasn’t had his schedule memorized for months. “We’re in a different room today. There was a note on the door when I got there, so I had to come all the way back. I think it's the administration's way of making sure we get enough cardio."
Blaine grins, amused by his words and delighted by the fact that Kurt is just there right in front of him. And he was singing. “I should thank them.”
“For what?”
Blaine leans in a little closer and says, “Letting me see you before English.”
“Yes, I’m sure they inconvenienced my entire class just so you could say hello,” Kurt says dryly.
“If they didn’t, they should.” It’s nearly time for class, so Blaine opens the door to the hallway and gestures for Kurt to go through before him. After a second’s hesitation, Kurt does. “What room are you in?”
“412. If this isn’t some elaborate scavenger hunt with a pop quiz for the prize at the end.”
They walk down the hall shoulder to shoulder, and when they reach Kurt’s class Blaine can’t help but say, “I haven’t heard you singing in the halls before.”
Kurt flushes, and his hand fidgets on his bag strap as he meets Blaine’s eyes. “I haven’t wanted to,” he admits.
“And now you do?”
With a quick glance around them at the emptying hallway, Kurt touches Blaine’s cheek with the tips of his fingers and says with a soft smile that hits Blaine like a punch to his chest, “Apparently now I do.”
And with that he slips away into his classroom, leaving Blaine standing there grinning like a fool. He feels giddy, a little lost, and like he must be doing something very right.
*
One of the best things about having a boyfriend is that you don’t have to daydream about what it would be like to make out with someone on his bed on a quiet Sunday afternoon when his parents are unexpectedly out for an hour; you actually get to do it.
The problem with his boyfriend being Kurt - and, really, it’s about the only problem Blaine has with Kurt at all even a few weeks into their relationship - is that Kurt wears complicated clothing. There are tight jeans and boots and sweaters and long-sleeved shirts and vests and ties and scarves and hats and sometimes leather straps that are kind of terrifying and hot all at once, and between the many different and hidden ways they are fastened and the terror in Kurt’s eyes if anything is in danger of being torn, wrinkled, or otherwise mishandled it is really, really hard for Blaine to get anywhere near Kurt’s skin.
And given how unbelievably hot Kurt looks in his clothing, Blaine, being a guy, pretty much always wants to take it off of him. At least some of it. Neither of them is ready for no clothing yet or even close, but Blaine doesn’t feel like it’s too much to ask to undo a few buttons. But between the way Kurt still jumps when Blaine touches him unexpectedly and the way he dresses it’s not as simple as it sounds in Blaine’s head.
He, of course, is much easier. One tug of his tie and he’s putty in Kurt’s hands. He’ll go wherever Kurt wants him, let Kurt slip the knot free and open his shirt a button or two so that Kurt can mouth that place low on Blaine’s throat that drives them both mad. Why would he ever stop him?
So while Kurt is still fully clothed from his impeccable bow tie to his heavy leather boots, which are hanging off the edge to save his bedding, Blaine's scarf is draped over a chair downstairs, his shoes are just inside Kurt's bedroom door, his sweater is on Kurt's bedside table, and his shirt is open enough that Kurt’s mouth has been able to leave a swath of tingling skin in its wake.
Blaine, however, is being thwarted at every direction as he desperately tries to reciprocate now that he finally, finally has Kurt pliant and eager beneath him and can touch the way he wants in return. Kurt's hands are fisted in Blaine's shirt to the point of almost pulling it free of his jeans, his body is arching up to meet Blaine’s, and yet Blaine is stuck mouthing at a spot just below Kurt's ear. He loves that spot, he is more than happy to worship that spot, but he's sure there are plenty of other spots he would also like if only he could get to them.
“I hate your clothes,” he mutters as he tries to coax Kurt’s stiff collar down another scant half inch.
In a flash, Kurt is out from under him and off of the bed.
“Hey!” Blaine rolls onto his side and flings out a hand toward him in protest.
Kurt recoils and stares at him in horror. “What?”
“What?”
“You hate my clothes?” His eyes are wet, like he might actually cry.
“Yes. No. No!” Blaine sits up and tries to get some blood back in his brain. “No, I do not hate your clothes. I love how you dress.” He gestures at Kurt’s outfit, which is, as always, spectacular. He scrambles to reassure him. “Your style is impeccable and perfectly you.”
“Then why would you say something so awful?”
“I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean it like that. Really, Kurt.”
Kurt crosses his arms over his chest and asks, “How did you mean it?”
Blaine stands up and is encouraged that Kurt doesn’t keep backing away. “I love your clothes,” he says more softly, trailing a finger down the side of Kurt’s throat. It gets him a shiver, which makes it a little hard to focus, but he tries. “What I don’t like is being chaperoned by your bow tie.” He taps the item in question. It’s a light tap, but Kurt reaches up to straighten it anyway.
Blaine captures his hand and says earnestly, “I’m not trying to rush you or pressure you or go faster than either of us wants. But it might be nice, at least from my point of view, if I could catch even a glimpse of your collarbone.”
Kurt’s free hand flutters up to his chest, like he’d forgotten about the body part in question. “I just wanted to look good.”
“You do,” Blaine tells him. “You always do.” He watches Kurt’s face as he goes to unfasten the cuff link at Kurt’s wrist; when Kurt doesn’t flinch, Blaine slips it free and places it carefully on the bedside table. “But I’m not ashamed of saying I like seeing you. I like touching you.”
“I hadn’t even thought about that,” Kurt says breathily.
Blaine slides two fingers in the gap of Kurt’s cuff, stroking along the soft skin over strong muscles and tendons as close to Kurt’s inner elbow as he can reach. It makes his head spin.
“Is this okay?“
Kurt gives him a shaky nod.
“How about this?” Blaine slides Kurt’s sleeve up a little and waits with his mouth hovering just above the bend of Kurt’s arm.
Kurt’s eyes widen for a second, but he pulls himself together and says with a haughty lift of his eyebrow, “Let’s try it and see.”
Blaine is laughing when he finally gets to mouth along Kurt’s arm, and then he’s being pushed back onto the bed and neither of them is laughing anymore.
*
The next day at the Lima Bean, Kurt arrives ten minutes late no longer wearing his uniform but instead a fitted short-sleeved dress shirt in this amazing graphic print, his forearms bare and the shirt open at the collar.
“You are incredible,” Blaine tells him, taking his hand immediately when Kurt sits. He fights the urge to loosen his tie, because it’s getting really hard to get enough air.
Kurt searches Blaine’s face for a tense moment, like he is weighing the truth in Blaine’s words, before relaxing in his chair. “I’m a fast learner,” he says with a smirk.
Blaine realizes that he is in so much trouble. He is actually kind of terrified. He can’t wait.
~end part one~
Part two.
It is a story in five parts, and I will be posting one each day through Friday.
Title: "Than the Sum of its Parts" 1/5
Author: flaming muse
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: overall R, this part PG
Word count: overall 30k+, this part 3800
Summary: The whole of Kurt and Blaine’s relationship is greater than the sum of its parts. Scenes of two boys in love.
Spoilers: the story starts during 2x16 (“Original Song”) and ends in the summer after 2x22 (“New York”)
Warnings: unrepentant fluff
Disclaimers: The characters belong to various corporate Powers That Be. I make absolutely no profit from playing with them.
Distribution: Please ask.
Feedback is lovely!
This fic is now a podfic!
Endless (seriously, endless) thanks to stoney321, without whose boundless patience and enthusiasm (and laughter with and at me) this fic would have been three scenes long and far less fun to write. I could not have done it without her. Also thanks to bethynyc for her eye for detail. They did their best with me; all remaining errors and awkward turns of phrase are mine and mine alone.
Without much in canon to guide us, I have modeled this Dalton after the private high school (a mix of boarding and day) I attended some years ago. It was co-ed, and we didn't have uniforms beyond the ubiquitous white dresses for girls and navy blazers for boys at certain ceremonies like commencement, but the members of the boys' a capella group were in fact like rock stars, and there was a serious no bullying policy in place, including anti-gay bullying, which was a big deal for the time.
***
Blaine is almost late for Warblers practice the day after he starts dating Kurt.
He all but runs down the hall, having been pulled aside by his History teacher after class because he’d been daydreaming about Kurt the entire period, and he comes rushing in at the last minute, leaping down the stairs as Wes calls the session to order.
He scans the room for a frantic moment before he finds Kurt’s familiar face - and he should have realized he had feelings ages ago, because the flip of his stomach when he sees Kurt’s smile is anything but new - and he finds himself letting out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and smiling, himself, as he saunters over and slides onto the couch next to Kurt. Next to his boyfriend. He leans a little into Kurt, just because he can, and feels the answering press of Kurt’s shoulder against his.
Blaine listens to Wes for a minute before zoning out on memories of yesterday’s amazing kisses and then realizes that he doesn’t actually have to sit here and daydream. Not that he’s going to kiss Kurt in the middle of practice, at least not today, but he can do more than think about him. His heart catches in his throat for a second at just how incredible that idea is.
Not taking his eyes off of Wes, Blaine places his hand palm up on his right leg, which is pressed against Kurt’s. He jogs Kurt’s elbow with his own, then wiggles his fingers to indicate his intentions.
Kurt doesn’t move, and as Blaine’s confidence turns into fear that he had done something wrong or that Kurt had changed his mind about Blaine in the two hours it had been since they’d seen each other at lunch he glances over at Kurt, who is staring at his hand. His eyes are wide and round, and Blaine watches as the absolute shock in them turns to wonder. Kurt’s mouth twitches like he’s fighting to maintain his calm expression, and without meeting Blaine’s eyes he squares his shoulders and regally places his hand in Blaine’s.
Blaine doesn’t even try not to grin, and he laces their fingers together and puts his free hand on top. Wes drones on and on about their travel arrangements for Regionals and the changes to their rehearsal schedule. Blaine half-listens but mostly tortures himself by stroking the back of Kurt’s hand and letting his fingers drift just under the edge of his shirt cuff. It is tame, he knows, but he’s still kind of dizzy with it. Kurt’s skin is soft, and it’s his to touch. It is the best thing ever.
Then Blaine brushes his thumb over the inside of Kurt’s wrist where his pulse is fluttering, and Kurt snatches his hand back in the blink of an eye. Blaine looks over at him in dismay, his heart sinking. He immediately thinks of Kurt telling him that he likes romance where the touch of fingers is the ultimate goal, and even though Kurt had been a very willing participant in the previous day’s kisses, maybe Blaine has pushed too far too fast, though if touching his wrist is too fast then Blaine is going to die from desire. He can be good, he can be respectful, but he’s going to die from it.
But then he really looks at Kurt and realizes that Kurt doesn’t actually seem scared or upset. His eyes are dark and glassy, his ears are bright red, he’s breathing fast, and he’s got his other hand clamped tight around the wrist Blaine had just been caressing, his thumb pressed against his pulse point.
Oh, thinks Blaine. He likes it. I did that.
Somehow he manages not to grab Kurt’s hand back or bounce out of his seat with the sheer giddiness of the realization.
*
The next day Kurt and Blaine go for a walk around campus. It’s a grey, cold day, and the only other people outside are rushing from one building to the next with their heads tucked down in the collars of their coats.
Blaine doesn’t mind. He likes the weather. Well, he likes pretty much every kind of weather, really, and Kurt is never upset about having an excuse to wear a scarf, so they stroll hand-in-hand past the soccer fields and into the arboretum. They talk about nothing in particular: their days, David’s crazy freak-out at lunch over the deli bar running out of provolone, their upcoming school projects. It’s exactly the kind of thing they would have done earlier in the week, except that Kurt’s hand is tight in Blaine’s, and the corner of his mouth keeps lifting in a smile that makes Blaine’s heart race each time it appears. Blaine knows he’s far less successful at keeping his own grin off his face.
Finally they settle side-by-side on a low stone retaining wall, and Blaine finds himself telling Kurt this hysterical story about the time last year when Jeff replaced Wes’ gavel with a rubber one. It’s one of his favorites. He stops mid-gesture, though, when he realizes about halfway through that Kurt’s smile has nothing to do with Wes’ antics.
“Kurt?” Blaine asks.
Kurt blinks and flushes, shaking his head. “I’m listening. Please.” He indicates with a sweep of his fingers that Blaine should continue.
“No, what were you thinking about?”
“You,” Kurt admits.
Blaine buzzes with delight and asks, “What about me?”
Kurt glances over Blaine’s shoulder, a flash of nerves crossing his face, before he meets Blaine’s eyes again. “I was thinking I wanted to kiss you.”
“You can,” Blaine tells him softly because he can’t quite catch his breath to make the words come out any louder.
The smile returns, even brighter now, and Kurt says, “I know.” He cups Blaine’s cheek with cool fingers and leans in and brings their mouths together. The kiss is soft, sweet, and yet still makes Blaine feel like he’s on some sort of spinning rollercoaster ride. He takes a shaky breath and anchors himself with a hand in the fabric of the sleeve of Kurt’s wool coat.
Kurt pulls back far too soon, leaving his hand on Blaine’s face. His thumb strokes gently over Blaine’s cheekbone. He looks so happy, and Blaine knows just how he feels.
It isn’t often that Blaine is at a loss for words, but he doesn’t know how to tell Kurt how incredible it is to have him. It isn’t just that Blaine is amazed by having an actual boyfriend, though that’s pretty awesome by itself, but that it’s Kurt. It’s Kurt, who is strong and cutting and funny and smart and creative and beneath it all a really good friend. It’s Kurt, who Blaine knows will fight for him the way he fights for everything else. It’s Kurt, who can cry over a bird and stand up to bullies and tell Blaine when he’s being an idiot and still remember his coffee order at the end of the day.
Blaine would never have thought he was in love with Jeremiah if he’d fallen for anyone before like he has for Kurt. One is a crush; the other is a connection. And Kurt had gotten that long ago and had still been his friend through all of Blaine’s stupidity.
But Blaine doesn’t know how to say any of that, since he can hardly make sense of it in his own head, so all he can do is cover Kurt’s hand with his own and press a gentle kiss into Kurt’s palm.
Kurt’s eyes sparkle at the gesture, and Blaine does it again to see if he can tease that smile to grow a little wider. He drags his mouth down to the base of Kurt’s thumb, which earns him a soft gasp, and he remembers yesterday’s reaction and carefully inches back the cuff of Kurt’s sleeve.
The smile on Kurt’s face is suddenly gone, replaced by an intense focus on the path of Blaine’s fingers. He can hear Kurt’s breathing speed up, and when he touches his mouth to the inside of Kurt’s wrist, his eyes locked on his face, Blaine can see the flush rise on Kurt’s cheeks and his pupils grow wide with desire. Kurt makes the single most addictive sound Blaine has ever heard, a low moan that Kurt chokes off almost immediately. Kurt’s eyes shut for a moment, and they open lazily as Blaine moves his mouth away, his hands still cradling Kurt’s.
“Blaine,” Kurt whispers, like he can’t believe any of it is actually real, and then he’s pulling Blaine in for a heated, take no prisoners kiss. About two seconds in, Blaine loses the ability to think, and he meets Kurt kiss for kiss, one hand on Kurt’s cheek and the other twined with Kurt’s between them.
It is the most incredible thing Blaine has ever experienced, not just Kurt’s mouth but everything about it: the puff of Kurt’s breath against his cheek, the flex of Kurt’s fingers in his when Blaine touches his tongue to Kurt’s soft palate, the soft, needy sounds they both make as they kiss and kiss and kiss. It’s like nothing he could have imagined. It’s better than he could have ever imagined. And they’re only kissing.
A while later, when they are both flushed and dazed, a gust of icy wind forces them to pull apart.
“We should probably go someplace warmer,” Kurt says, and his voice has a hoarseness to it that Blaine put there, and, god, now he wants to put it there every second of the day.
“I like how you’ve been keeping me warm,” Blaine tells him, and Kurt rolls his eyes and rises to his feet. He holds out a hand to Blaine, who takes it and stands, too. Now that he’s not totally wrapped up in Kurt he realizes that it is getting kind of bitter outside and the color of Kurt’s ears seems to be more due to the wind than Blaine’s attentions. Blaine feels warm to his bones, though. “It’s better than thinsulate, no matter what Thad says about camping gear.” He manages not to hit himself in the forehead, but he can’t believe he’s talking about camping instead of the million other more important things he’d rather be saying to Kurt.
“I think all of this cold has done something dire to your brain,” Kurt says fondly as they fall into step back toward the main part of campus.
“No, that’s just you,” Blaine replies, and it’s totally true.
*
Blaine does not spend his entire lunch period on Tuesday watching the clock in the dining hall. He only spends most of it with it squarely in the corner of his eye, because he’s eating with Wes and David, and they deserve his attention, too.
The thing is, though, that it’s a Tuesday, and he doesn’t see Kurt much on Tuesdays. Their free periods don’t overlap, their classes are such that they don’t pass each other in the halls, and they don’t even have lunch at the same time. Kurt has History late, and Blaine has Psych early over the rolling lunch period. Blaine hasn’t been fond of Tuesdays pretty much since Kurt enrolled at Dalton, but now it’s even worse.
Blaine watches the clock tick to the end of Kurt’s class period, which means that it’s time for him to go to class. He fiddles with his water glass and wonders how late he can push it and how fast he can run across campus.
“We have to go,” Wes says. “Blaine. Blaine.” When Blaine looks up, Wes repeats a little more kindly, “We have to go to Psych. Zimmer will kill us if we’re late.”
“Yeah.” Blaine stands up with a sigh, and if he takes slightly longer than necessary to drop his tray off he can’t really help it.
As he and Wes reach the main doors to the quad, Kurt walks through them. He looks flushed and is breathing a little hard, like he’d been rushing to get to lunch, and he stops in his tracks and breaks into a wide smile when he sees Blaine. He tempers it almost immediately, but it still makes Blaine’s heart pound.
“Hi, Kurt,” Blaine says.
“Hi, Blaine.” Kurt bounces on his toes a little, his hands on the strap of his bag. He looks great, his hair tousled by the wind and his eyes sparkling.
They stand there for a moment, just smiling at each other, until Wes rolls his eyes and says, “We have to get to class. See you at rehearsal, Kurt.”
“Of course. See you at rehearsal,” Kurt replies, but Blaine knows the words are really for him alone.
Blaine touches Kurt’s arm as he walks by, Kurt watches them until the doors close between them, and Blaine smiles the whole way to Psych.
*
Blaine would know Kurt’s voice anywhere. That’s not new, really, because his speaking voice captured Blaine’s attention from their very first conversation, and he’s the only countertenor at Dalton, so he stands out when he sings at the high end of his range. Still, now that they’re dating, it’s like Blaine has Kurt-radar. He always seems to notice Kurt immediately among dozens of identically dressed students walking on the far side of the quad. He finds himself focused on Kurt’s harmonies while they’re singing warm-ups. He can pick out Kurt’s laugh across the crowded dining hall even at the busiest lunch hour.
So it’s no surprise, then, that when he hears muted singing in the back stairwell on his way to fourth period he immediately knows that it’s Kurt, despite the fact that he ought to be on the other side of campus right now. Blaine waves Trent on and opens the door to the stairs.
Blaine steps onto the landing and looks over the railing to see the top of a head he’d know anywhere. It’s Kurt, and he’s singing. His voice is soft, but the notes soar. It’s beautiful. Blaine clutches the banister and makes himself stand still so that he doesn’t interrupt.
“He tucks it right under his chin, and he bows, oh, he bows, for he knows, yes, he knows - ” Kurt cuts off and jerks to a halt when he rounds the corner and sees Blaine standing on the landing. He loses the tension in his shoulders and resumes his rapid pace up the stairs when he realizes who it is. “Hello there.”
“Hi. Sorry I startled you,” Blaine says when Kurt reaches him. "I heard you singing."
Kurt’s smile fades, and he touches his hair, flustered. "I thought I was being quiet."
“You were. I have Kurt-radar.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” Blaine says with a shake of his head. “What are you doing over here? I thought you had French.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, like Blaine hasn’t had his schedule memorized for months. “We’re in a different room today. There was a note on the door when I got there, so I had to come all the way back. I think it's the administration's way of making sure we get enough cardio."
Blaine grins, amused by his words and delighted by the fact that Kurt is just there right in front of him. And he was singing. “I should thank them.”
“For what?”
Blaine leans in a little closer and says, “Letting me see you before English.”
“Yes, I’m sure they inconvenienced my entire class just so you could say hello,” Kurt says dryly.
“If they didn’t, they should.” It’s nearly time for class, so Blaine opens the door to the hallway and gestures for Kurt to go through before him. After a second’s hesitation, Kurt does. “What room are you in?”
“412. If this isn’t some elaborate scavenger hunt with a pop quiz for the prize at the end.”
They walk down the hall shoulder to shoulder, and when they reach Kurt’s class Blaine can’t help but say, “I haven’t heard you singing in the halls before.”
Kurt flushes, and his hand fidgets on his bag strap as he meets Blaine’s eyes. “I haven’t wanted to,” he admits.
“And now you do?”
With a quick glance around them at the emptying hallway, Kurt touches Blaine’s cheek with the tips of his fingers and says with a soft smile that hits Blaine like a punch to his chest, “Apparently now I do.”
And with that he slips away into his classroom, leaving Blaine standing there grinning like a fool. He feels giddy, a little lost, and like he must be doing something very right.
*
One of the best things about having a boyfriend is that you don’t have to daydream about what it would be like to make out with someone on his bed on a quiet Sunday afternoon when his parents are unexpectedly out for an hour; you actually get to do it.
The problem with his boyfriend being Kurt - and, really, it’s about the only problem Blaine has with Kurt at all even a few weeks into their relationship - is that Kurt wears complicated clothing. There are tight jeans and boots and sweaters and long-sleeved shirts and vests and ties and scarves and hats and sometimes leather straps that are kind of terrifying and hot all at once, and between the many different and hidden ways they are fastened and the terror in Kurt’s eyes if anything is in danger of being torn, wrinkled, or otherwise mishandled it is really, really hard for Blaine to get anywhere near Kurt’s skin.
And given how unbelievably hot Kurt looks in his clothing, Blaine, being a guy, pretty much always wants to take it off of him. At least some of it. Neither of them is ready for no clothing yet or even close, but Blaine doesn’t feel like it’s too much to ask to undo a few buttons. But between the way Kurt still jumps when Blaine touches him unexpectedly and the way he dresses it’s not as simple as it sounds in Blaine’s head.
He, of course, is much easier. One tug of his tie and he’s putty in Kurt’s hands. He’ll go wherever Kurt wants him, let Kurt slip the knot free and open his shirt a button or two so that Kurt can mouth that place low on Blaine’s throat that drives them both mad. Why would he ever stop him?
So while Kurt is still fully clothed from his impeccable bow tie to his heavy leather boots, which are hanging off the edge to save his bedding, Blaine's scarf is draped over a chair downstairs, his shoes are just inside Kurt's bedroom door, his sweater is on Kurt's bedside table, and his shirt is open enough that Kurt’s mouth has been able to leave a swath of tingling skin in its wake.
Blaine, however, is being thwarted at every direction as he desperately tries to reciprocate now that he finally, finally has Kurt pliant and eager beneath him and can touch the way he wants in return. Kurt's hands are fisted in Blaine's shirt to the point of almost pulling it free of his jeans, his body is arching up to meet Blaine’s, and yet Blaine is stuck mouthing at a spot just below Kurt's ear. He loves that spot, he is more than happy to worship that spot, but he's sure there are plenty of other spots he would also like if only he could get to them.
“I hate your clothes,” he mutters as he tries to coax Kurt’s stiff collar down another scant half inch.
In a flash, Kurt is out from under him and off of the bed.
“Hey!” Blaine rolls onto his side and flings out a hand toward him in protest.
Kurt recoils and stares at him in horror. “What?”
“What?”
“You hate my clothes?” His eyes are wet, like he might actually cry.
“Yes. No. No!” Blaine sits up and tries to get some blood back in his brain. “No, I do not hate your clothes. I love how you dress.” He gestures at Kurt’s outfit, which is, as always, spectacular. He scrambles to reassure him. “Your style is impeccable and perfectly you.”
“Then why would you say something so awful?”
“I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean it like that. Really, Kurt.”
Kurt crosses his arms over his chest and asks, “How did you mean it?”
Blaine stands up and is encouraged that Kurt doesn’t keep backing away. “I love your clothes,” he says more softly, trailing a finger down the side of Kurt’s throat. It gets him a shiver, which makes it a little hard to focus, but he tries. “What I don’t like is being chaperoned by your bow tie.” He taps the item in question. It’s a light tap, but Kurt reaches up to straighten it anyway.
Blaine captures his hand and says earnestly, “I’m not trying to rush you or pressure you or go faster than either of us wants. But it might be nice, at least from my point of view, if I could catch even a glimpse of your collarbone.”
Kurt’s free hand flutters up to his chest, like he’d forgotten about the body part in question. “I just wanted to look good.”
“You do,” Blaine tells him. “You always do.” He watches Kurt’s face as he goes to unfasten the cuff link at Kurt’s wrist; when Kurt doesn’t flinch, Blaine slips it free and places it carefully on the bedside table. “But I’m not ashamed of saying I like seeing you. I like touching you.”
“I hadn’t even thought about that,” Kurt says breathily.
Blaine slides two fingers in the gap of Kurt’s cuff, stroking along the soft skin over strong muscles and tendons as close to Kurt’s inner elbow as he can reach. It makes his head spin.
“Is this okay?“
Kurt gives him a shaky nod.
“How about this?” Blaine slides Kurt’s sleeve up a little and waits with his mouth hovering just above the bend of Kurt’s arm.
Kurt’s eyes widen for a second, but he pulls himself together and says with a haughty lift of his eyebrow, “Let’s try it and see.”
Blaine is laughing when he finally gets to mouth along Kurt’s arm, and then he’s being pushed back onto the bed and neither of them is laughing anymore.
*
The next day at the Lima Bean, Kurt arrives ten minutes late no longer wearing his uniform but instead a fitted short-sleeved dress shirt in this amazing graphic print, his forearms bare and the shirt open at the collar.
“You are incredible,” Blaine tells him, taking his hand immediately when Kurt sits. He fights the urge to loosen his tie, because it’s getting really hard to get enough air.
Kurt searches Blaine’s face for a tense moment, like he is weighing the truth in Blaine’s words, before relaxing in his chair. “I’m a fast learner,” he says with a smirk.
Blaine realizes that he is in so much trouble. He is actually kind of terrified. He can’t wait.
~end part one~
Part two.