Fic: Glee: Opening Doors: Five 'Missing' Scenes from Glee 4x14 (Kurt/Blaine, NC-17)
I feel like there were a lot of missed steps in 4x14, a lot of missing scenes I would have liked to see. So, being the fanfic writer that I am, I wrote some of them! That's handy! :)
I could not survive my fandom life without stoney321, and without her this and every other fic of mine would be worse. <3
Title: "Opening Doors: Five ‘Missing’ Scenes from Glee 4x14" [on the AO3]
Author: flaming muse
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 8800
Summary: Five ‘missing’ scenes between Kurt and Blaine from Glee 4x14 (“I Do”)
Spoilers: set within 4x14 (“I Do”), with no spoilers beyond
Disclaimers: The characters belong to various corporate Powers That Be. I make absolutely no profit from playing with them.
Distribution: Please ask.
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Now a podfic!
1. The afternoon of Wednesday the 13th, the Hummel-Hudson House
There’s a familiar jaunty rap on the front door, and Kurt’s hand leaps to his throat as his heart flutters up into it of its own volition. It’s an old reaction to that knock, an old excitement no longer required, but he can’t control it. He can, however, ignore it.
“That’s Blaine,” he says to Carole, wiping his hands and putting the dish towel back in its place.
“Thanks for your help, Kurt. There’s plenty if he wants to stay for dinner,” she tells him with a smile that’s far too knowing for his liking. She arranges another noodle on the lasagna they’ve been making.
Kurt turns to her with narrowed eyes. He knows his dad is matchmaking, and here she is, too. “He’s just here to practice our song for Mr. Schue’s wedding.”
“I know,” Carole says, “but it’s always nice having you boys all at the table for a change, and since you’re friends again...” She lifts her eyebrows and picks up another noodle.
“Thank you,” he replies, because he knows there’s no real point in arguing with her over a simple invitation. He also knows that Hummel-Hudson dinners must be much quieter this year than last, with him in New York and no Rachel or Blaine around, either. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for Blaine to join them. He’s certainly good company. “We’ll see.” He shoots her a smile before he turns away and hope it’ll be enough to get her to let him handle his own life. He doubts it.
Heading for the door, Kurt automatically smooths down his shirt, his hand drifting up to his hair to check it before he stops himself. It’s a ridiculous remnant of an instinct to be sure he looked perfect upon greeting his boyfriend.
But he’s not that boy anymore, and Blaine isn’t his boyfriend.
They’re friends, that’s all, good friends but just friends, and Kurt will never again be that overwhelmed, giddy, naive boy he used to be all but dancing to see his boyfriend, not with Blaine or with anyone. The past few months have really helped him grow up, not just learning the hard lesson of just how devastating it is to have his heart broken but also the much more positive realization that not every boy he likes has to be the love of his life, that not every date has to be a prelude to forever, that not every kiss or touch has to mean anything beyond the affection of that moment.
It’s a very different Kurt than the one who left Lima in September who opens the door for Blaine.
“Hi,” Blaine says, his smile warm in a way that hits Kurt right in the chest for a fraction of a second before he remembers this is February and not last August. “I have the sheet music - “ He nudges the bag over his shoulder with his elbow. “ - and coffee.” He holds out a cup to Kurt, another with his own named marked on it held in the opposite hand, and leans in a little. “Not from the Lima Bean, though. I thought that might bring back too many bad memories. And there was that mouse.”
Kurt takes the coffee and says with a smile, “How thoughtful.” He steps back out of the doorway. “Come on in.”
Despite how long it’s been since they’ve spent time there together, Blaine seems still to feel at home in Kurt’s house, and he takes off his coat and scarf and puts them in the closet the same way he always did as he asks, “How was your trip?”
“Fine,” Kurt replies. He takes a sip of the coffee, and it’s almost perfect, though he’s gotten used to the roast of his local coffee shop by his apartment now. “The snow didn’t delay us, thank goodness. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the night in the airport and arrive at the wedding tomorrow smelling like airplanes and cheap coffee.”
“I’m glad you made it.”
“Blaine!” Carole says, bustling out of the kitchen. She sweeps him up in a big hug, which he returns without hesitation. “How are you?”
Blaine glances over at Kurt, his eyes crinkling, before replying, “Great!” It sends a warning tendril up Kurt’s spine. He’s not blind to how Blaine looks at him. He’s not unaware of what Blaine wants him to be again. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You, too, honey. I don’t know if Kurt has told you, but you’re welcome to stay for dinner tonight if you’d like to,” she says.
“For god’s sake, he just got here a minute ago,” Kurt says. “We’ve barely said two words.”
“Thank you,” Blaine says to her. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Don’t be silly,” Carole says. “It would be our pleasure. We’ve always loved having you around.”
Blaine ducks his head, smiling and clearly touched. “I’ve always loved being here.”
“We’re going up to my room to practice our song for the wedding,” Kurt states and heads for the stairs.
“Door open,” Carole calls after them, then laughs. “Sorry, I know you’re - “ She gestures between them, apparently to indicate that they’re no longer a couple. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”
Kurt gives her a wan smile. It’s complicated enough being with Blaine without the constant reminders of who they used to be. “We’ll be upstairs.”
“Have fun!” she says, and the look she gives Blaine could almost be called conspiratorial. At the very least it’s encouraging. Either way it’s frustrating.
Turning on his heel, Kurt doesn’t look back as he walks up the steps; he can hear Blaine following. Back in the day, he would have held Blaine’s hand up these stairs, but not anymore. It may be more difficult remembering where the line of who he is now is when he’s in this house instead of his apartment, when so many of his memories and cues are from his younger, more romantic world view, but it’s far from impossible. There’s no danger of going back.
“So what ‘80s power ballad has Mr. Schuester saddled us with?” Kurt asks when they reach his room. He hesitates for a second over whether or not to close the door, because there’s really no reason for them not to, it’s not like they’re going to do anything other than talk and sing, but there’s an implied intimacy to closing themselves away that he’s not sure he feels good about, either. He likes dithering even less than making an unintended statement, though, and he’s used to not having a chaperone. He shuts the door with a decisive click.
When he turns Blaine is just looking at him, staring, really, his eyes fixed on Kurt’s face. “Blaine?”
“Sorry,” Blaine says, shaking himself out of whatever reverie he’s in. “Sorry. It’s just really good to see you.” His voice is soft and warm like honey, and he takes a little step forward. “Hug?”
Kurt walks into his arms, because he can. They’re friends again.
Blaine’s hugs are among the best in the world, so solid and sure. Kurt squeezes his eyes shut, squeezes his arms around him, and takes the moment as it is. It is, at its most basic sense, nice. He doesn’t know how something so simple can make him feel both centered and off-balance at the same time, but he’s not going to give it up. He’s glad he doesn’t have to. “It’s good to see you, too,” he says, his mouth by Blaine’s ear.
Blaine’s arms tighten for a few more breaths, and then just before Kurt might think about feeling uncomfortable he steps back. “It’s not a power ballad!”
“Is the world ending?” Kurt doesn’t fidget, doesn’t wrap an arm across himself. He doesn’t need to. He just waits for Blaine to dig out the sheet music from his bag. This is all okay; his friendships at NYADA with their personalities and rivalries are so much more complicated than spending time with Blaine. This almost feels easy in comparison.
“It’s still from the ‘80s,” Blaine tells him and hands him a copy of the music. He sets his bag on the floor out of the way. “So I think the world is safe.”
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Kurt scans the page. “Hmm. This looks simple enough. We’ll sound good.”
“We always sound good together,” Blaine says with a quiet intensity, then clears his throat. “I thought we could figure out some harmonies and have time to put together a dance to go with it.”
“Good thing I packed my dancing dress shoes,” Kurt says dryly as his mind begins to spin through notes and moves. He wonders if Finn knows anything about the dimensions of the stage; he and Blaine probably won’t pull together anything complicated, since it’s a wedding and not a big performance, but it’s so much easier to choreograph when they have those kinds of details.
“I happen to know you can dance in all of your shoes,” Blaine says, his fond smile oddly comforting when Kurt glances up and catches it. It’s nice to be known.
Kurt tilts his head in agreement and stretches out his legs, still thinking.
Blaine shifts back and forth, and Kurt takes it as the beginnings of his dance process until Blaine speaks again. He sounds hesitant and tentatively hopeful. “Kurt, you’ll dance with me, right? At the wedding?”
“Of course,” Kurt says as breezily as he can, though his unhelpful heart beats faster again at the very thought of spinning around a sparkling dance floor in Blaine’s arms. He loves weddings, and he loves dancing, and he loves - loved, loves, will always love even if it’s not the same as it was - Blaine. The three of them together feel like a potentially heart-threatening combination if he doesn’t keep his head on his shoulders. “The macarena, maybe. Or the electric slide. I draw the line at the chicken dance. I don’t care how much you love it.”
“No,” Blaine says, watching him with his own heart in his gorgeous eyes. “Real dances. Slow ones.”
Kurt knows it would be wisest to say no, but if he’s friends with Blaine, if he’s going to have him in his life - and he has to have him in his life, it hurt way too much not to be able to talk to him and see him, and he can’t do that again - then he needs to be friends. Just because they had a past together doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have a present. He can protect his heart well enough now; he knows how.
“I’d love that,” he says softly, and Blaine’s answering smile is so happy that it clearly was the right answer. They can do this.
“Thank you,” Blaine says, just as soft, but the step forward he takes toward Kurt feels like a threat, not a physical one, but -
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Kurt tells him quickly. “You know that, right?”
Blaine stops moving, and some of the emotion rising in his face ebbs away, but he nods. “I know,” he says. “It means we’re friends. It means we can enjoy being together.”
Kurt takes a shallow breath. He still feels like he’s standing on a precipice, but as long as Blaine knows not to try to push him over then he’ll be fine. He is fine. “Okay.”
“It’s going to be a great wedding,” Blaine says, sitting down beside him. “I’m glad you came back for it. So many of our friends are going to be there; it’s like a family reunion. We’re going to have the best time, Kurt.”
Kurt turns his head to look at Blaine’s handsome, happy face and wants to believe him. He realizes that he does believe him, actually, because unlike his trip home in the fall, this time there’s no lurking awful confrontation ahead for them. Kurt’s heart is healed, and they’ve moved on. They’re friends again. They are. They can sing together, they can dance, and they can be at this wedding without it hurting either of them. It doesn’t matter that when Mr. Schuester proposed Kurt had assumed Blaine would be his date. It doesn’t matter anymore.
“I just want to have fun,” Kurt says with a smile. “No drama, no cat fights, no tears, just fun. I want to wear beautiful clothes and eat tiny food on tiny plates. I want to cry in the church and dance all night. Weddings are supposed to be magical. I want to enjoy it.”
Blaine reaches out and curls his fingers around Kurt’s where they rest on the bed between them. “Then let’s enjoy it.”
2. The afternoon of Thursday the 14th, Blaine’s car
“And this is why February is a stupid month for a wedding if you’re in the northern hemisphere,” Kurt mutters, stomping through the parking lot with his arms wrapped around himself to try to fend off the icy air. He hadn’t put his coat on for the car ride to the church, because there was no point in getting his outfit wrinkled on the way over, but now it’s so cold he doesn’t want to unlock his arms to get his coat on. He can suffer for fashion; it won’t be the first time. He just hopes that the church is warm.
“Kurt!” Kurt looks toward Blaine’s voice and sees him peeking through the cracked door of his car. “The doors aren’t open yet. They’re still setting up. Something about the flowers.”
“Great.” Kurt looks back toward his own car and weighs the coat issue again. He probably isn’t going to freeze to death in the next ten minutes, but the pictures will be forever.
“Come on in if you want,” Blaine says, climbing out. “It’s still warm in here.” He opens the back door with a small flourish.
Kurt raises an eyebrow. “The back seat?”
“There’s more room to talk,” Blaine explains. “You know how cramped it is in the front with the steering wheel and everything.”
Kurt doesn’t remember the steering wheel getting in the way of them trying to talk back in the day, other things maybe, but not talking... but he supposes it would be hard for Blaine to turn toward him for any length of time. And warmth is warmth.
He shrugs and ducks into the cozy interior of the car. Blaine follows him, shutting the door behind him, and suddenly the two of them are tucked in relative silence in a small back seat that Kurt remembers all too well for being way too short for their legs but good for making memories, anyway.
He firmly doesn’t think about that.
“Thank you,” he says instead. “I was worried if I stayed out there too much longer they’d haul me inside and set me up as one of the ice sculptures.”
Blaine laughs. “I’m glad I could save you from that.”
Kurt can’t help but smile back. “My hero,” he says. He folds his coat and tucks it by the door. He means the words flippantly, but when he looks over Blaine’s eyes have gone a little vague. Kurt realizes he might have pushed over a boundary he didn’t mean to. “Um - “
“No.” Blaine shakes his head. “Don’t. Sorry. I just - “ He clears his throat and gives him a wry smile. “You just look really good.”
“You should never apologize for telling me that,” Kurt says as solemnly as he can manage.
“That’s a relief,” Blaine says with another laugh. He starts wiggling, struggling to get out of his coat, and Kurt reaches out to help him before he breaks something important, like a seam or maybe a bone. Together they manage to slide it off in the cramped space.
Kurt gets his first proper look at him. Blaine always looks so perfectly elegant in formal wear, so timeless and handsome, and today is no exception. He looks just as good as the men Kurt sees in New York. “And you do, too,” he says. “You look wonderful.”
Blaine ducks his head, keeping his eyes on Kurt’s, and says, “Thank you.”
Kurt can feel his pulse race at the thought of standing on stage singing across from Blaine dressed like that, at the thought of swaying in his arms, and thinks of proms and promises and all that has gone between them. He thinks of how starry-eyed he used to be just watching Blaine walk toward him, knowing the softness in Blaine’s eyes was all for him.
He thinks of how even now if he saw Blaine in New York and didn’t know him he’d be drawn to him, caught by the spark in his eye and the line of his shoulders.
“Blaine - “ Kurt starts, to say what he’s not quite sure, and then they both jump at a knock on Blaine’s window.
“Blaine!” Tina says with a huge smile as soon as he gets open the door. “I thought I’d come see if - Oh, hi, Kurt.”
Kurt gives her a little wave from the far side of the car, and to his surprise she narrows her eyes at him.
“Is everything okay?” she asks Blaine pointedly.
“Everything is great,” Blaine tells her. “I was just helping Kurt keep warm.”
“I see.” Tina glares daggers at Kurt for a second, and a suspicion starts growing in his mind. Blaine’s made a few comments about her in recent weeks, and now that Kurt can see her in person...
“I’ll meet you inside?” Blaine says. “Sorry, there’s kind of a draft with the door open.”
Tina seems speechless for a moment, but then she steps back and says, “Okay. See you, Blaine. Kurt.” Kurt’s name sounds more like a warning.
“Sorry,” Blaine says to him after he shuts the door again. “Are you still warm enough? I could turn the car on. Or you could borrow my coat to throw over your legs.”
“I’m fine,” Kurt assures him. “Thank you.” He can’t help but be touched by how solicitous Blaine is to him. Blaine is clueless sometimes, but he does care. He does mean well. That’s part of why Kurt likes him so much and part of how they can be friends again after all that’s gone between them.
God, it is such a relief to be friends with him. He doesn’t ever want to give him up.
“And because of this - “ He waves his hand at the interior of the car. “ - I’ve decided I might even consider the chicken dance with you. If you ask very nicely.”
Blaine’s smile goes huge, his eyes crinkling with delight. “Wow. Those are words I never thought I’d hear you say.”
“Well,” Kurt says with a shrug. “I’m in college now. I’m growing.”
“And now I know what you’re learning in your dance classes.”
“Mmm, jazz squares, simple ballet, and the chicken dance. NYADA teaches nothing but the best.”
Blaine just smiles at him from the opposite seat, and he looks so at ease and happy. Kurt’s missed seeing him that way. They were friends first, will now again be friends always, and he’s missed him. It’s like a piece of his heart was gone without him, not the heartbroken part but the part that likes the same movies and knows each other’s coffee orders. It feels so good to be here.
It’s good to be in a place where he can be happy with Blaine and isn’t at risk of being hurt by him again.
“I’ve missed you,” Kurt tells him, leaning his head against the back of the seat. “Christmas was so rushed, so much about my dad. I’m glad we’re getting this time together.”
“I’ve missed you, too. More than I can say.” Blaine looks at him with his eyes so soft and caring, and the atmosphere thickens a little. Kurt is torn between wanting to ask him to stop and wanting to fling himself at him, because he’s never going to be immune to that kind of love. He doesn’t want all that Blaine would happily offer him, but he can’t help liking someone caring about him.
And Blaine is, well, Blaine, and he’s wearing the most gorgeous outfit. Kurt had his heart broken, not his eyes.
Blaine ducks his head again, glancing over at the swiftly steaming windows and then back at Kurt. “I’m sorry if this is weird,” he says, his fingers toying with a seam on the seat between them. “I didn’t think what it would be like to be in here with you again and not be able to kiss you. I don’t want things to be awkward. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I really don’t.”
Kurt takes a breath to agree that maybe they should go into the church and lessen some of the tension between them, but he realizes that that’s the old Kurt talking. That’s the Kurt who got his heart broken, who couldn’t talk to his best friend for endless, agonizing weeks because it was too hard to face that things had changed. He’s grown since then. He has a new view on the world. He has a new view on himself.
He has a new view on what he wants and what things actually mean.
Not everything has to be centered around over the top romance all of the time. Not everything is about soul mates and forever. Most people don’t work that way, and he’s learning that he doesn’t have to get swept away or get hurt to have fun. He can just do things that he wants to do. He can date Adam. He can notice cute guys around campus. He can spend time with Blaine. None of it has to be a huge deal, not if he’s smart about it instead of giving into the heady dreams of romance that used to be at the forefront of everything for him.
He sits back in his seat. It’s like Rachel finding Brody and doing the mature, casual, unlabeled thing with him instead of continuing the drama of star-crossed lovers she has going with Finn, where they hurt each other as much as they love each other. Dating doesn’t have to be complicated. Sex doesn’t have to be. It can just be about people enjoying being together.
And being with Blaine is so easy. It feels good. It makes them happy.
None of this has to be a big deal. All of his life, Kurt’s always made everything into such a big deal, and it doesn’t have to be.
He could do all sorts of things with Blaine, really, he thinks with a sudden clarity, and it could be okay, it could be comfortable and safe because Blaine does care about him. Blaine knows him, knows him better than anyone, and Kurt knows him, too. They’d take care of each other, with each other. Blaine’s not some new boy to dance around and figure out, and it wouldn’t be meaningless because no matter that they’re not dating they love each other, they’re always going to be friends, and they know how to have fun together.
Isn’t that the point? Having fun together? Isn’t that the point of the wedding? Isn’t that the point of his life, not to hold himself back anymore? He gets to be free, and if he and Blaine are both clear about what’s going on, then what would it hurt?
And Blaine is so attractive. Kurt can’t deny that his fingers itch to touch him. Kurt’s body longs to be in his arms. He’s always wanted that from the first minute he laid eyes on him, and now he knows what following that desire actually can become. He doesn’t want to deny any of it.
“Why can’t you kiss me?” Kurt asks him. He still wants Blaine, and Blaine so clearly wants him, and that part is easy. It’s only the rest that’s difficult.
Blaine’s eyes snap up to his, huge and surprised. “But you don’t want - “
“I don’t want to get back together,” Kurt says. It’s still more complicated to get out than he’d like it to be, but he doesn’t waver. “And I don’t want to hurt our friendship.” He reaches out and puts his hand on Blaine’s shoulder, not a caress but a reassurance. “But I said I wanted to enjoy the wedding, Blaine, and kissing you is always...” He lowers his head a touch and looks up at him from under his lashes, a little coy and a little more direct than he ever used to be. “Enjoyable.” He has to smile, because he’s still not much of a flirt, but the way Blaine’s breath has caught makes it clear it’s worked.
“Kurt...” Blaine sounds caught between hope and uncertainty. He licks his lip, though, and Kurt’s stomach twists in anticipation. He knows what that lip-lick means.
“We don’t have to,” Kurt tells him. He means it, but his blood is already rushing through his veins. He wonders if Blaine’s going to taste like coffee, like toothpaste. He wonders whether his neck still smells as good as it used to. “But I’m offering.“
Blaine takes his hand. “Yes,” he says with a smile. “You know I’m going to say yes.”
Kurt does know, and as he leans toward Blaine he feels happy and in control and sure. “You look really good,” he says with a sense of light-headed contentment as he gets close.
“So do you,” Blaine tells him. He starts to slide down on the seat, tugging Kurt toward him in a motion that brings back so many memories. His smile grows and grows as Kurt willingly fits himself above him. It’s not awkward. It’s so easy, and it sends goosebumps and shivers across Kurt’s body to look down at him again, to feel their legs shifting into the right positions, to feel Blaine’s hand skimming up his side above his jacket. Blaine’s voice is already going rough when he adds, “And you feel even better.”
Kurt smiles down at him, his heart flipping and soaring like a kite in his chest at how good it feels to be here, how right it feels to have made this smart and mature choice, to enjoy himself with someone he trusts and leave the difficult stuff behind, and then he dips his head as Blaine arches up to meet his mouth, and he’s immediately lost in the taste and feel of the kiss he knows best in the world.
It’s Blaine.
3. The evening of Thursday the 14th, the wedding reception
Blaine hasn’t changed the brand of his aftershave, Kurt comes to realize as they dance under the sparkling lights of the reception for the wedding-that-wasn’t, or of the gel in his hair. Blaine smells really good, feels really good, just like he always used to. He’s warm through his clothes and is holding him in that wonderful, secure way he does where it feels like Kurt is something precious to him but not weak, something strong and amazing that Blaine just wants to be near.
Combined with the romance of the setting and the delicious panoply of miniature foods surrounded by well-dressed friends, a part of Kurt thinks it would be easy to get swept away. Six months ago he would have, without a doubt. He would have been caught up in the fairy lights and the nice clothes and been lost in the sentimental dream of romance and the wishes of his own foolish heart.
But now he lives in New York. He’s been to real parties. He’s seen actual couture. He knows that this is just children playing dress-up in comparison, and he knows that the kid in him who was dazzled to dance in a school gym in Ohio with his boyfriend while wearing a plastic prom queen crown has grown up.
He’s still having a fantastic night, but he’s not losing his head over it. Or his heart.
And yet, since he’s determined to be honest - “You smell really good,” Kurt says in Blaine’s ear, their cheeks barely brushing. Blaine’s skin is only just barely not smooth against his; he must have shaved right before he left for the wedding. He moves just as well as he always did, and Kurt has learned more about his own body and moves even better with him. “You always do.”
“Thank you,” Blaine says with a soft laugh. “You must have forgotten what I’m like after gym class.”
Kurt thinks of the strong salty scent of Blaine’s sweat and the way his hair curls around the edges after he’s exerted himself. It’s a powerful thought, one that tugs deep in his gut and makes him think, too, of darkened bedrooms and messy sheets. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”
Blaine laughs again and spins him in a tight circle, his arms holding Kurt close against him through the movement.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were showing off,” Kurt says when his stomach stops fluttering with the grace of the motion. Blaine has learned a few new tricks, too.
Blaine looks him in the eye, smiles so easily, and says, “You know I am.”
“Blaine - “ Kurt begins, because obviously they made out, and obviously they’re flirting with each other, but this isn’t real, this can’t be a new start for them, and if Blaine thinks it is, then -
But Blaine just spins him again, away from the middle of the floor and away from the topic. He’s so smooth at both. “Maybe I’m trying to dare you to show me some of your new NYADA dance moves to prove I’m not outshining you.”
“Oh, yes, because an imperfectly executed plie really compares to that.” Kurt’s tone is dry, but he can’t help his fond, grateful smile that Blaine’s not pushing. He knows Blaine wants to, but at least he isn’t.
Maybe Blaine is growing up, too.
“I have to say,” Kurt says after a moment, because he feels like he ought to offer a gift in return for Blaine giving him that space, “that you’re still my favorite dance partner. NYADA hasn’t changed that.” He knew it didn’t make any sense, but it always felt like Blaine danced with Kurt like he meant it.
“Thank you,” Blaine says, and he looks startled but touched. “I love dancing with you.” His hands flex on Kurt’s back, possessive and happy.
Leaning his cheek back against Blaine’s, Kurt closes his eyes to feel how well they still move together. Their hearts might not be beating as one anymore - if they ever really did - but their bodies know each other. They know how to shift the lead back and forth without talking. They know how to stay close without bumping knees or feet. They know how to move in the same rhythm.
And Blaine feels so good. Kurt’s surprised at how his body is reacting to that closeness. He’d always thought much of his response to Blaine was emotional; as much as he obviously liked the physical acts themselves, he’d always thought he wanted them because he was in love with Blaine. But here he is, beyond that relationship, and he’s still drawn to Blaine. He’s still fascinated by the play of Blaine’s muscles under his jacket. He still wants to press his mouth to that tender spot beneath Blaine’s ear. He’s still breathless when Blaine’s nose brushes against his jaw or his hand dips to the small of his back. It’s such a physical reaction.
Then again, he still really likes Blaine, and he feels comfortable and safe with him. That matters a lot, too. He likes Blaine’s body, but he likes Blaine, and he knows that wanting him and having him wouldn’t hurt him. Hadn’t they laughed their way through kissing? Hadn’t it felt amazing, both familiar and wonderful without all of the baggage of the past? There could just be more of that.
“Blaine?” Kurt asks. His voice is steady, not at all faint, even though his heart is pounding.
“Mmm?” Blaine nuzzles against his jaw again, so careful. He’s not immune, either.
“I have the key to one of the rooms the bridesmaids changed in.” Santana had slipped it into his pocket earlier, and he hadn’t questioned why.
Blaine lifts his head and looks into Kurt’s eyes, his own full of questions.
“Come upstairs with me?” Kurt slides his hand up Blaine’s back. “I’m not trying to make things confusing between us, but - “
“I want to be with you, Kurt. You know that.” Blaine’s face is slowly lighting up, and he’s almost too happy to look at. Kurt doesn’t want to hurt him, he truly doesn’t, but if he’s being honest with him about what he wants and what he doesn’t then it’s Blaine’s job to look after his own heart and make his own choices.
“I know,” Kurt says softly. “I want to be with you, too.”
“I want you to. I really do,” Blaine breathes out like he can’t quite believe his luck.
“I just invited you up to a hotel room, Blaine. I don’t think I can be much more clear.”
“I can’t believe - “ Blaine stops himself with a laugh and steps back enough to take Kurt’s hands. “Right now?”
Kurt nods, a grin growing on his own lips at Blaine’s enthusiasm. “Right now.”
Blaine leans in and gives him a short, sharp peck of a kiss. “What are we waiting for?”
4. The evening of Thursday the 14th, the hotel room
Kurt pulls Blaine into the room by his tie and presses him right back against the door with his body as soon as it is shut. His mouth is on Blaine’s the next second, and Blaine groans and kisses back around his huge smile. He’s pliant and eager, entirely unresisting.
“Kurt,” Blaine says. His voice is going rough, his hands pull Kurt even closer, but he cannot seem to stop smiling. It would be a little worrying if Kurt were going to let himself think about it, but it’s also very, very cute.
“Somehow I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously,” Kurt teases, his fingers already working at Blaine’s tie. He’d gotten some very tantalizing glimpses and touches of skin earlier in the car, and it is time to get a lot more.
“I am,” Blaine insists. “I am. I really am.” His hands come up to cup Kurt’s face, and his next kiss is slower, deeper, and more filled with tender emotions that make Kurt’s heart flutter not entirely pleasantly.
“Blaine, I want to be clear about what I - “ Kurt says with a flare of panic in the back of his throat, because he can’t get caught up in more. He can’t.
“I know,” Blaine tells him. His hands keep Kurt’s face close, his thumbs stroking over his cheeks. “I know.”
“I just don’t want it to be hard between us,” Kurt tells him, looking into Blaine’s eyes for any flicker that he might be on a different page, because if he is then they can’t do this, because as much as he wants Blaine’s hands and mouth all over him he wants Blaine in his life even more, and he cannot hurt over him again.
Blaine is all earnest understanding for a moment, and then his cheeks flush, his eyes crinkle, and he turns his head away and laughs. “Sorry. Sorry,” he says, squirming a little where he is pinned between the door and Kurt’s body.
Kurt has no choice but to smirk at the innuendo, and he glances down Blaine’s body and says archly, “Well, that I very much would want to be hard.”
Blaine’s eyes flick back up to him, and he rolls his hips against Kurt’s. Kurt can feel Blaine’s waking erection against his thigh. “That won’t be a problem.” He licks his lower lip and says, “None of it’s a problem, Kurt.”
Kurt tries to read Blaine’s eyes again, but he knows Blaine too well by now to doubt him. Blaine means what he’s saying. That’s all Kurt can ask for.
“Good,” Kurt says and crosses those last few inches to kiss him. He’s always been an excellent multi-tasker, and it’s only a minute before his own coat is on the chair, Blaine’s tie is on the floor, and Blaine’s shirt is open to the waist. It’s almost a shock to his system to be able to be so sexual without restraint again, but it’s a good one.
“Kurt,” Blaine moans against his mouth, yanking Kurt’s shirt out of his pants and getting his hands on Kurt’s bare back. If it had made Kurt’s head spin in the car it’s a thousand times better here where they don’t have to stop. Blaine makes him feel so wanted, so desirable. He always has. He’s not the only one who feels that way about Kurt anymore, but it’s still a glorious rush.
Still kissing him, Kurt shoves Blaine’s shirt off of his shoulders, too impatient to undo the cuffs and punished for it by it taking longer than it should to get it off of Blaine. He’s distracted by Blaine’s arms for a second, then he attacks Blaine’s undershirt, and the first slide of his palms on the expanse of his skin makes Kurt’s head spin. “Oh, god, I’ve missed this.” He’d never imagined he could be so hurt and still long for someone the way he had, and now that he has Blaine’s so wonderful body in front of him it’s like having a craving filled for something he thought was long lost.
“Kurt,” Blaine says again. His hands are up at Kurt’s shoulder blades under his shirt, their bare abdomens pressed together in a way that threatens to take Kurt’s breath away. He grabs at Blaine’s hip, pushing in closer. “Kurt, I’m never going to get your shirt off you like this.”
“Fuck my shirt,” Kurt says, mouthing down Blaine’s lovely shoulder. He has the best shoulders.
Blaine catches him by the jaw, leans in to give him a wet, desperate kiss, and then says through his ragged breaths, “This isn’t a race. You have no idea how badly I want you, but this isn’t a race. Can we please take your shirt off? And our shoes?”
Kurt makes himself pull away from the fire of his desire and rests his forehead against Blaine’s. He breathes for a second. Blaine’s right; this isn’t a race. He pulls back from the fire in his body, smiles into Blaine’s eyes, and says, “Yes.”
They’re still smiling - a little shyly, a little bit amused by the same joke - as they remove his tie and work on the buttons together, and when Kurt steps away and strips off his shirt and undershirt he hears Blaine’s breath punch out of him. He looks over, surprised.
“Look at you,” Blaine says, leaving his shoes and socks by the door and walking over to him. He reaches out to touch Kurt’s chest, his hand a hot brand against his skin. Kurt doesn’t shake. He doesn’t let himself. “You’re amazing. What you’ve been doing in New York has been working.”
“Yes,” Kurt says, and he means far more than all of the exercise he’s been doing. He knows his chest is a bit broader, his arms stronger, but he’s also learned to carry himself differently. He’s learned to like to be looked at in different ways.
He trails his fingers down Blaine’s chest, tracing the curves and planes of his muscles. He’s gorgeous, perfect. “You, too.”
Blaine steps in close, slides a hand to the small of Kurt’s back, and hauls him in against his body. Kurt makes a soft noise as Blaine kisses his jaw and throat, his mouth warm and wet. “Do you have anything with you?” Blaine asks. “I didn’t think - “
Kurt shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t planning for this.” He’s not sure if he’s glad of it or not, but it does limit their options.
“Okay,” Blaine says. He walks Kurt backwards to the bed and falls with him onto it.
They kiss and kiss, rolling together as they touch, and if it’s not new, sweet, and tender it’s intense in a way that makes Kurt’s heart race and blood run hot. It’s close, heady, this combined search for the most pleasure they can have together and the joy of finding old ways and new to get it. They kiss and turn, stripping off the rest of their clothes and touching as much of each other as they can, both hungry for it, for each other.
Kurt might have changed, but his body reacts the same way to Blaine. He’s so quickly dizzy with him, drunk with him, desperate for him. He pins him against the bed and devours his mouth, lets Blaine hold him close, smiles against Blaine’s skin and laughs against his lips. It’s wonderful, easy. The feel of Blaine’s ass in his hands, the taste of Blaine’s sweat on his tongue, the sound of Blaine’s moans in his ears, the sight of his smile, they all make Kurt feel like he’s going to burst out of his skin long before Blaine’s crawling down him to get his mouth on his cock.
“Let me?” Blaine asks, the hot fan of his breath on Kurt’s erection making it twitch. “I want to. Please, Kurt.”
“Yes,” Kurt tells him, because there’s no way he’d say no. Not to Blaine, not to Blaine doing this, not to Blaine wanting to.
Blaine is already moaning as he licks around the head, and Kurt’s hands are in the sheets before Blaine’s lips are closed around him. He can’t put them in Blaine’s hair, it’s too much, too intimate, but, god, the heat of Blaine’s mouth and the way he flexes his tongue up him just the way he likes are enough to make Kurt forget himself. He can’t do that. He can’t get lost. He has to remember that this is different than the other times they’ve been together, because this isn’t making love, this is sex. It’s good sex, very good, but it’s not what it once was.
So he get his hand on Blaine’s shoulder, keeps his eyes open and up, staring at the awful hotel art instead of Blaine’s dark, eager head. “Like that, like that,” he gasps out when Blaine takes him deeper, because he knows Blaine likes encouragement, and it feels so good. Blaine’s mouth is so wet and hot, moving and sucking perfectly around him, giving him just what he wants. Blaine’s focused, not playing with him but listening to his body, and Kurt knows it’s because Blaine gets off on making Kurt feel this way, like he’s so wrapped up in pleasure and in him he can’t think of anything else. “God, Blaine, like that - “
Kurt thinks of his body many ways: as an instrument for making music, as a finely tuned machine for dancing and acting, as a frame to show off beautiful clothes. When Blaine touches him, though, he feels like he’s something made for pleasure, because everything feels amazing. Every idle drift of Blaine’s fingers on his stomach, every roll of his hips toward Blaine’s mouth, even every moan that comes from his own throat sets him aflame. Even the dry scratch of the hotel’s bedding against his bare skin is incredible, a counterpoint to Blaine’s sweat-dampened body.
He’s missed this so much.
Blaine makes a needy sound deep in his throat, and Kurt looks down to see Blaine watching him. Their eyes meet, and Blaine sucks harder, his hands cupping Kurt’s ass to draw him up and in. Kurt can’t help but rock up into Blaine’s mouth, just a little. He doesn’t want to hurt him, no matter how much his body is demanding more and faster and deeper, and Blaine just watches his face, digs his fingers in a little, and takes it, takes that much more, takes as much as he can with dark, desperate joy shining in his eyes.
Kurt’s body seizes in warning, and he clutches at Blaine’s shoulder, bites his lip, and lets himself fall as his orgasm rushes out of him, hard and fast. He’s forgotten how Blaine can do that, make him lose control like that, and he’s forgotten, too, how Blaine’s always so quick to get close afterwards. Kurt’s barely stopped coming, barely managed a full, steady breath before Blaine’s up against him, on him, his mouth warm at Kurt’s throat, his hands tender on Kurt’s face.
It used to be sweet how connected Blaine wanted to be. Kurt loved knowing that whatever they did was about them to Blaine, about him. In this moment, though, it’s a little alarming and stifling, because that’s part of love, and this isn’t love, not that kind of love, anyway. Kurt’s body isn’t his own yet, still caught in the tremors of his orgasm, and he’s too sated to panic, but he knows it’s coming, or it might be if Blaine doesn’t remember what they’re doing here. Kurt didn’t sign up for love.
“I love that. I love that,” Blaine says as he kisses along Kurt’s ear. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” With a laugh, Kurt slides his hand down between them and finds Blaine’s throbbing erection. It’s the best way to keep them on track, and he’s really like to do some touching of his own. “There’s more to go.”
Draped against him with his leg over Kurt’s, Blaine thrusts into Kurt’s hand without much grace, but then he’s always been so turned on by going down on Kurt. “I know,” he gasps out. His hands sweep along Kurt’s side and up his chest, tracing his ribs and thumbing his nipple. “But touching you, tasting you, that’s the best part.” He leans in for a bruising kiss. He tastes like Kurt as much as himself, and it’s a taste that goes straight to Kurt’s gut, because it’s been a part of so many good times between them, not just the pleasure of blow jobs but of shared love.
“What do you want?” Kurt asks him, because he can’t think about their history. That’s not the point here.
“I just want to keep touching you,” Blaine says, kissing him again, harder, deeper. He gets his hand over Kurt’s so that they’re stroking him together, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing Kurt again and again until Kurt’s heart is in his throat and his breath is coming fast and his body is curled around Blaine’s.
“Blaine,” Kurt whispers, stroking the back of Blaine’s neck with his free hand and feeling fragile and fiercely protective all at once about this boy who seems to want him so badly.
“I think of you so much,” Blaine gasps out, desperate. “Tell me you think of me, too.”
“I do,” Kurt tells him, thick with sadness.
“Kurt, Kurt.” Blaine jerks their hands even faster, and then he’s moaning against Kurt’s mouth as he comes in hot spurts between them. The spatter on Kurt’s skin feels both like a memory and something entirely new. “Oh, my god.” He kisses Kurt again, more gently, and rocks a few last times into their fists, shivering with pleasure before settling down.
Blaine smiles his way through a few more dopey kisses and then flops on the bed beside him, his arm over Kurt’s chest and his leg pressed along Kurt’s from hip to knee. Kurt looks over and takes in the sleepy grin Blaine is giving his pillow, the happy slump of his body, and the sticky, sated flush covering him. Kurt can’t be so easily content.
It was good. Kurt rolls his head back and looks up at the ceiling, breathing out under the comforting weight of Blaine’s arm. It was great, in fact. He feels nicely wrung out and attended to. It might have been a little more intense than he would have expected, a little closer and more personal, but that is the point of having sex with Blaine, isn’t it? It isn’t just bodies; it is people who care about each other. Of course it is personal.
They mean something very important to each other, after all. It’s just not what it was before.
Kurt just needs to be smart and remember the distance between them. This isn’t what it used to be. It’s something new. It’s different. All of that closeness and sweetness, all of the promises Blaine is offering him with his eyes and his touch, they’re not real, not anymore. It’s just a remnant of what was between them, not what is, because Kurt’s not interested in opening himself up to that again. He’s not doing it again.
Blaine rolls toward him again, pressing his smiling lips to the curve of Kurt’s shoulder. After a moment, Kurt lets out a long breath and tips his head so that it’s resting against Blaine’s.
It’s comforting, in a way, that Blaine believes in them so strongly, that he isn’t giving up. It’s a net that Kurt knows is there to catch him, even though he doesn’t need it. He isn’t going to fall.
It might feel like his heart is expanding when he touches Blaine, but Kurt tells himself that’s not what’s happening at all.
5. The afternoon of Friday the 15th, the choir room
“Are you sure you won’t stay? We’d love to have you sing with us again,” Blaine says as he opens the door to the choir room for Kurt. The room is empty before rehearsal. It seems so much smaller to Kurt than it used to, and it still has that hint of a weird tuna fish smell.
Kurt shakes his head. “I can’t. Carole asked me to go shopping with her before I go, and it’s the only time I have before my flight tomorrow.”
“Aw.” Blaine sets down his bag and turns toward him. “Well, we’ll miss you.” His smile is happy and maybe a touch smug. He’s very pleased with how this visit has gone, Kurt can see, and Kurt’s pleased, too, if more wary of Blaine’s reaction to it.
“That’s okay,” Kurt says, trailing a finger along the top of the piano. “You have Tina now. You’ll be just fine.”
Blaine’s smile remains, but his voice is softer when he says, “I know, but I’ll still miss you.”
Kurt makes himself keep looking into his eyes. “I’ll miss you, too.” He owes him the honesty, after all. He always wants to be honest with Blaine. He has to be.
“And maybe, I don’t know...” Blaine crosses one foot over the other as he strolls oh-so-casually over next to him. “Maybe I can come visit you? I’ve been saving up some money.”
“The apartment is getting a little crowded,” Kurt says with a grimace at what his life has become, “but sure. You’re always welcome. Just let me know.”
Blaine’s smile - his beautiful, heart-twisting smile - grows. “Okay.” He bounces on his toes, and warning bells go off in Kurt’s chest, because he wants Blaine to be happy but only for the right reasons.
“This hasn’t changed things between us, Blaine,” Kurt reminds him.
“No, it hasn’t,” Blaine says, and that smile of his doesn’t wobble for a second. He looks really happy, but even more he looks like he knows better, because he’s so damn sure that Kurt is going to come around to something that he really doesn’t feel good about coming around to.
“Why do I think you mean that differently than I do?”
“Because I know you, Kurt.” Blaine slides his hand over Kurt’s shoulder and looks right into his eyes. “I know you, and I know us, and I know what we mean. And none of that’s changed.”
Kurt lets out a slow breath and looks away. He feels helpless and trapped, because Blaine wants so much, and once, not that long ago, he would have dropped everything to give it to him. He wouldn’t have even questioned it. And he doesn’t want to argue about what will happen, he doesn’t want to turn every conversation into a fight just when things are finally okay, but he doesn’t feel that confidence that Blaine does in himself and his heart. He can’t. He doesn’t know how to be okay with everything that Blaine wants, not anymore. He doesn’t know if it’s even reasonable to want to.
“I know,” Blaine says, gently rubbing his arm like he understands Kurt even through his silence. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“I need you to listen to me. I’m not trying to hurt you, but I don’t want you waiting for something that might not ever happen, Blaine,” Kurt says, almost despairing, because if Blaine is it’s going to destroy them all over again.
Blaine leans in and gives Kurt a soft kiss on the lips. “I’m not,” he promises.
~end~
Reminder: I am spoiler-free! Please do not spoil me for what's coming ahead!
NB: I am going to be away attending to difficult family matters this week, so apologies in advance if I am slow to reply to comments. As always, I shall answer (and treasure!) all comments I receive. <3
I could not survive my fandom life without stoney321, and without her this and every other fic of mine would be worse. <3
Title: "Opening Doors: Five ‘Missing’ Scenes from Glee 4x14" [on the AO3]
Author: flaming muse
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 8800
Summary: Five ‘missing’ scenes between Kurt and Blaine from Glee 4x14 (“I Do”)
Spoilers: set within 4x14 (“I Do”), with no spoilers beyond
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!
Now a podfic!
1. The afternoon of Wednesday the 13th, the Hummel-Hudson House
There’s a familiar jaunty rap on the front door, and Kurt’s hand leaps to his throat as his heart flutters up into it of its own volition. It’s an old reaction to that knock, an old excitement no longer required, but he can’t control it. He can, however, ignore it.
“That’s Blaine,” he says to Carole, wiping his hands and putting the dish towel back in its place.
“Thanks for your help, Kurt. There’s plenty if he wants to stay for dinner,” she tells him with a smile that’s far too knowing for his liking. She arranges another noodle on the lasagna they’ve been making.
Kurt turns to her with narrowed eyes. He knows his dad is matchmaking, and here she is, too. “He’s just here to practice our song for Mr. Schue’s wedding.”
“I know,” Carole says, “but it’s always nice having you boys all at the table for a change, and since you’re friends again...” She lifts her eyebrows and picks up another noodle.
“Thank you,” he replies, because he knows there’s no real point in arguing with her over a simple invitation. He also knows that Hummel-Hudson dinners must be much quieter this year than last, with him in New York and no Rachel or Blaine around, either. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for Blaine to join them. He’s certainly good company. “We’ll see.” He shoots her a smile before he turns away and hope it’ll be enough to get her to let him handle his own life. He doubts it.
Heading for the door, Kurt automatically smooths down his shirt, his hand drifting up to his hair to check it before he stops himself. It’s a ridiculous remnant of an instinct to be sure he looked perfect upon greeting his boyfriend.
But he’s not that boy anymore, and Blaine isn’t his boyfriend.
They’re friends, that’s all, good friends but just friends, and Kurt will never again be that overwhelmed, giddy, naive boy he used to be all but dancing to see his boyfriend, not with Blaine or with anyone. The past few months have really helped him grow up, not just learning the hard lesson of just how devastating it is to have his heart broken but also the much more positive realization that not every boy he likes has to be the love of his life, that not every date has to be a prelude to forever, that not every kiss or touch has to mean anything beyond the affection of that moment.
It’s a very different Kurt than the one who left Lima in September who opens the door for Blaine.
“Hi,” Blaine says, his smile warm in a way that hits Kurt right in the chest for a fraction of a second before he remembers this is February and not last August. “I have the sheet music - “ He nudges the bag over his shoulder with his elbow. “ - and coffee.” He holds out a cup to Kurt, another with his own named marked on it held in the opposite hand, and leans in a little. “Not from the Lima Bean, though. I thought that might bring back too many bad memories. And there was that mouse.”
Kurt takes the coffee and says with a smile, “How thoughtful.” He steps back out of the doorway. “Come on in.”
Despite how long it’s been since they’ve spent time there together, Blaine seems still to feel at home in Kurt’s house, and he takes off his coat and scarf and puts them in the closet the same way he always did as he asks, “How was your trip?”
“Fine,” Kurt replies. He takes a sip of the coffee, and it’s almost perfect, though he’s gotten used to the roast of his local coffee shop by his apartment now. “The snow didn’t delay us, thank goodness. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the night in the airport and arrive at the wedding tomorrow smelling like airplanes and cheap coffee.”
“I’m glad you made it.”
“Blaine!” Carole says, bustling out of the kitchen. She sweeps him up in a big hug, which he returns without hesitation. “How are you?”
Blaine glances over at Kurt, his eyes crinkling, before replying, “Great!” It sends a warning tendril up Kurt’s spine. He’s not blind to how Blaine looks at him. He’s not unaware of what Blaine wants him to be again. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You, too, honey. I don’t know if Kurt has told you, but you’re welcome to stay for dinner tonight if you’d like to,” she says.
“For god’s sake, he just got here a minute ago,” Kurt says. “We’ve barely said two words.”
“Thank you,” Blaine says to her. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Don’t be silly,” Carole says. “It would be our pleasure. We’ve always loved having you around.”
Blaine ducks his head, smiling and clearly touched. “I’ve always loved being here.”
“We’re going up to my room to practice our song for the wedding,” Kurt states and heads for the stairs.
“Door open,” Carole calls after them, then laughs. “Sorry, I know you’re - “ She gestures between them, apparently to indicate that they’re no longer a couple. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”
Kurt gives her a wan smile. It’s complicated enough being with Blaine without the constant reminders of who they used to be. “We’ll be upstairs.”
“Have fun!” she says, and the look she gives Blaine could almost be called conspiratorial. At the very least it’s encouraging. Either way it’s frustrating.
Turning on his heel, Kurt doesn’t look back as he walks up the steps; he can hear Blaine following. Back in the day, he would have held Blaine’s hand up these stairs, but not anymore. It may be more difficult remembering where the line of who he is now is when he’s in this house instead of his apartment, when so many of his memories and cues are from his younger, more romantic world view, but it’s far from impossible. There’s no danger of going back.
“So what ‘80s power ballad has Mr. Schuester saddled us with?” Kurt asks when they reach his room. He hesitates for a second over whether or not to close the door, because there’s really no reason for them not to, it’s not like they’re going to do anything other than talk and sing, but there’s an implied intimacy to closing themselves away that he’s not sure he feels good about, either. He likes dithering even less than making an unintended statement, though, and he’s used to not having a chaperone. He shuts the door with a decisive click.
When he turns Blaine is just looking at him, staring, really, his eyes fixed on Kurt’s face. “Blaine?”
“Sorry,” Blaine says, shaking himself out of whatever reverie he’s in. “Sorry. It’s just really good to see you.” His voice is soft and warm like honey, and he takes a little step forward. “Hug?”
Kurt walks into his arms, because he can. They’re friends again.
Blaine’s hugs are among the best in the world, so solid and sure. Kurt squeezes his eyes shut, squeezes his arms around him, and takes the moment as it is. It is, at its most basic sense, nice. He doesn’t know how something so simple can make him feel both centered and off-balance at the same time, but he’s not going to give it up. He’s glad he doesn’t have to. “It’s good to see you, too,” he says, his mouth by Blaine’s ear.
Blaine’s arms tighten for a few more breaths, and then just before Kurt might think about feeling uncomfortable he steps back. “It’s not a power ballad!”
“Is the world ending?” Kurt doesn’t fidget, doesn’t wrap an arm across himself. He doesn’t need to. He just waits for Blaine to dig out the sheet music from his bag. This is all okay; his friendships at NYADA with their personalities and rivalries are so much more complicated than spending time with Blaine. This almost feels easy in comparison.
“It’s still from the ‘80s,” Blaine tells him and hands him a copy of the music. He sets his bag on the floor out of the way. “So I think the world is safe.”
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Kurt scans the page. “Hmm. This looks simple enough. We’ll sound good.”
“We always sound good together,” Blaine says with a quiet intensity, then clears his throat. “I thought we could figure out some harmonies and have time to put together a dance to go with it.”
“Good thing I packed my dancing dress shoes,” Kurt says dryly as his mind begins to spin through notes and moves. He wonders if Finn knows anything about the dimensions of the stage; he and Blaine probably won’t pull together anything complicated, since it’s a wedding and not a big performance, but it’s so much easier to choreograph when they have those kinds of details.
“I happen to know you can dance in all of your shoes,” Blaine says, his fond smile oddly comforting when Kurt glances up and catches it. It’s nice to be known.
Kurt tilts his head in agreement and stretches out his legs, still thinking.
Blaine shifts back and forth, and Kurt takes it as the beginnings of his dance process until Blaine speaks again. He sounds hesitant and tentatively hopeful. “Kurt, you’ll dance with me, right? At the wedding?”
“Of course,” Kurt says as breezily as he can, though his unhelpful heart beats faster again at the very thought of spinning around a sparkling dance floor in Blaine’s arms. He loves weddings, and he loves dancing, and he loves - loved, loves, will always love even if it’s not the same as it was - Blaine. The three of them together feel like a potentially heart-threatening combination if he doesn’t keep his head on his shoulders. “The macarena, maybe. Or the electric slide. I draw the line at the chicken dance. I don’t care how much you love it.”
“No,” Blaine says, watching him with his own heart in his gorgeous eyes. “Real dances. Slow ones.”
Kurt knows it would be wisest to say no, but if he’s friends with Blaine, if he’s going to have him in his life - and he has to have him in his life, it hurt way too much not to be able to talk to him and see him, and he can’t do that again - then he needs to be friends. Just because they had a past together doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have a present. He can protect his heart well enough now; he knows how.
“I’d love that,” he says softly, and Blaine’s answering smile is so happy that it clearly was the right answer. They can do this.
“Thank you,” Blaine says, just as soft, but the step forward he takes toward Kurt feels like a threat, not a physical one, but -
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Kurt tells him quickly. “You know that, right?”
Blaine stops moving, and some of the emotion rising in his face ebbs away, but he nods. “I know,” he says. “It means we’re friends. It means we can enjoy being together.”
Kurt takes a shallow breath. He still feels like he’s standing on a precipice, but as long as Blaine knows not to try to push him over then he’ll be fine. He is fine. “Okay.”
“It’s going to be a great wedding,” Blaine says, sitting down beside him. “I’m glad you came back for it. So many of our friends are going to be there; it’s like a family reunion. We’re going to have the best time, Kurt.”
Kurt turns his head to look at Blaine’s handsome, happy face and wants to believe him. He realizes that he does believe him, actually, because unlike his trip home in the fall, this time there’s no lurking awful confrontation ahead for them. Kurt’s heart is healed, and they’ve moved on. They’re friends again. They are. They can sing together, they can dance, and they can be at this wedding without it hurting either of them. It doesn’t matter that when Mr. Schuester proposed Kurt had assumed Blaine would be his date. It doesn’t matter anymore.
“I just want to have fun,” Kurt says with a smile. “No drama, no cat fights, no tears, just fun. I want to wear beautiful clothes and eat tiny food on tiny plates. I want to cry in the church and dance all night. Weddings are supposed to be magical. I want to enjoy it.”
Blaine reaches out and curls his fingers around Kurt’s where they rest on the bed between them. “Then let’s enjoy it.”
2. The afternoon of Thursday the 14th, Blaine’s car
“And this is why February is a stupid month for a wedding if you’re in the northern hemisphere,” Kurt mutters, stomping through the parking lot with his arms wrapped around himself to try to fend off the icy air. He hadn’t put his coat on for the car ride to the church, because there was no point in getting his outfit wrinkled on the way over, but now it’s so cold he doesn’t want to unlock his arms to get his coat on. He can suffer for fashion; it won’t be the first time. He just hopes that the church is warm.
“Kurt!” Kurt looks toward Blaine’s voice and sees him peeking through the cracked door of his car. “The doors aren’t open yet. They’re still setting up. Something about the flowers.”
“Great.” Kurt looks back toward his own car and weighs the coat issue again. He probably isn’t going to freeze to death in the next ten minutes, but the pictures will be forever.
“Come on in if you want,” Blaine says, climbing out. “It’s still warm in here.” He opens the back door with a small flourish.
Kurt raises an eyebrow. “The back seat?”
“There’s more room to talk,” Blaine explains. “You know how cramped it is in the front with the steering wheel and everything.”
Kurt doesn’t remember the steering wheel getting in the way of them trying to talk back in the day, other things maybe, but not talking... but he supposes it would be hard for Blaine to turn toward him for any length of time. And warmth is warmth.
He shrugs and ducks into the cozy interior of the car. Blaine follows him, shutting the door behind him, and suddenly the two of them are tucked in relative silence in a small back seat that Kurt remembers all too well for being way too short for their legs but good for making memories, anyway.
He firmly doesn’t think about that.
“Thank you,” he says instead. “I was worried if I stayed out there too much longer they’d haul me inside and set me up as one of the ice sculptures.”
Blaine laughs. “I’m glad I could save you from that.”
Kurt can’t help but smile back. “My hero,” he says. He folds his coat and tucks it by the door. He means the words flippantly, but when he looks over Blaine’s eyes have gone a little vague. Kurt realizes he might have pushed over a boundary he didn’t mean to. “Um - “
“No.” Blaine shakes his head. “Don’t. Sorry. I just - “ He clears his throat and gives him a wry smile. “You just look really good.”
“You should never apologize for telling me that,” Kurt says as solemnly as he can manage.
“That’s a relief,” Blaine says with another laugh. He starts wiggling, struggling to get out of his coat, and Kurt reaches out to help him before he breaks something important, like a seam or maybe a bone. Together they manage to slide it off in the cramped space.
Kurt gets his first proper look at him. Blaine always looks so perfectly elegant in formal wear, so timeless and handsome, and today is no exception. He looks just as good as the men Kurt sees in New York. “And you do, too,” he says. “You look wonderful.”
Blaine ducks his head, keeping his eyes on Kurt’s, and says, “Thank you.”
Kurt can feel his pulse race at the thought of standing on stage singing across from Blaine dressed like that, at the thought of swaying in his arms, and thinks of proms and promises and all that has gone between them. He thinks of how starry-eyed he used to be just watching Blaine walk toward him, knowing the softness in Blaine’s eyes was all for him.
He thinks of how even now if he saw Blaine in New York and didn’t know him he’d be drawn to him, caught by the spark in his eye and the line of his shoulders.
“Blaine - “ Kurt starts, to say what he’s not quite sure, and then they both jump at a knock on Blaine’s window.
“Blaine!” Tina says with a huge smile as soon as he gets open the door. “I thought I’d come see if - Oh, hi, Kurt.”
Kurt gives her a little wave from the far side of the car, and to his surprise she narrows her eyes at him.
“Is everything okay?” she asks Blaine pointedly.
“Everything is great,” Blaine tells her. “I was just helping Kurt keep warm.”
“I see.” Tina glares daggers at Kurt for a second, and a suspicion starts growing in his mind. Blaine’s made a few comments about her in recent weeks, and now that Kurt can see her in person...
“I’ll meet you inside?” Blaine says. “Sorry, there’s kind of a draft with the door open.”
Tina seems speechless for a moment, but then she steps back and says, “Okay. See you, Blaine. Kurt.” Kurt’s name sounds more like a warning.
“Sorry,” Blaine says to him after he shuts the door again. “Are you still warm enough? I could turn the car on. Or you could borrow my coat to throw over your legs.”
“I’m fine,” Kurt assures him. “Thank you.” He can’t help but be touched by how solicitous Blaine is to him. Blaine is clueless sometimes, but he does care. He does mean well. That’s part of why Kurt likes him so much and part of how they can be friends again after all that’s gone between them.
God, it is such a relief to be friends with him. He doesn’t ever want to give him up.
“And because of this - “ He waves his hand at the interior of the car. “ - I’ve decided I might even consider the chicken dance with you. If you ask very nicely.”
Blaine’s smile goes huge, his eyes crinkling with delight. “Wow. Those are words I never thought I’d hear you say.”
“Well,” Kurt says with a shrug. “I’m in college now. I’m growing.”
“And now I know what you’re learning in your dance classes.”
“Mmm, jazz squares, simple ballet, and the chicken dance. NYADA teaches nothing but the best.”
Blaine just smiles at him from the opposite seat, and he looks so at ease and happy. Kurt’s missed seeing him that way. They were friends first, will now again be friends always, and he’s missed him. It’s like a piece of his heart was gone without him, not the heartbroken part but the part that likes the same movies and knows each other’s coffee orders. It feels so good to be here.
It’s good to be in a place where he can be happy with Blaine and isn’t at risk of being hurt by him again.
“I’ve missed you,” Kurt tells him, leaning his head against the back of the seat. “Christmas was so rushed, so much about my dad. I’m glad we’re getting this time together.”
“I’ve missed you, too. More than I can say.” Blaine looks at him with his eyes so soft and caring, and the atmosphere thickens a little. Kurt is torn between wanting to ask him to stop and wanting to fling himself at him, because he’s never going to be immune to that kind of love. He doesn’t want all that Blaine would happily offer him, but he can’t help liking someone caring about him.
And Blaine is, well, Blaine, and he’s wearing the most gorgeous outfit. Kurt had his heart broken, not his eyes.
Blaine ducks his head again, glancing over at the swiftly steaming windows and then back at Kurt. “I’m sorry if this is weird,” he says, his fingers toying with a seam on the seat between them. “I didn’t think what it would be like to be in here with you again and not be able to kiss you. I don’t want things to be awkward. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I really don’t.”
Kurt takes a breath to agree that maybe they should go into the church and lessen some of the tension between them, but he realizes that that’s the old Kurt talking. That’s the Kurt who got his heart broken, who couldn’t talk to his best friend for endless, agonizing weeks because it was too hard to face that things had changed. He’s grown since then. He has a new view on the world. He has a new view on himself.
He has a new view on what he wants and what things actually mean.
Not everything has to be centered around over the top romance all of the time. Not everything is about soul mates and forever. Most people don’t work that way, and he’s learning that he doesn’t have to get swept away or get hurt to have fun. He can just do things that he wants to do. He can date Adam. He can notice cute guys around campus. He can spend time with Blaine. None of it has to be a huge deal, not if he’s smart about it instead of giving into the heady dreams of romance that used to be at the forefront of everything for him.
He sits back in his seat. It’s like Rachel finding Brody and doing the mature, casual, unlabeled thing with him instead of continuing the drama of star-crossed lovers she has going with Finn, where they hurt each other as much as they love each other. Dating doesn’t have to be complicated. Sex doesn’t have to be. It can just be about people enjoying being together.
And being with Blaine is so easy. It feels good. It makes them happy.
None of this has to be a big deal. All of his life, Kurt’s always made everything into such a big deal, and it doesn’t have to be.
He could do all sorts of things with Blaine, really, he thinks with a sudden clarity, and it could be okay, it could be comfortable and safe because Blaine does care about him. Blaine knows him, knows him better than anyone, and Kurt knows him, too. They’d take care of each other, with each other. Blaine’s not some new boy to dance around and figure out, and it wouldn’t be meaningless because no matter that they’re not dating they love each other, they’re always going to be friends, and they know how to have fun together.
Isn’t that the point? Having fun together? Isn’t that the point of the wedding? Isn’t that the point of his life, not to hold himself back anymore? He gets to be free, and if he and Blaine are both clear about what’s going on, then what would it hurt?
And Blaine is so attractive. Kurt can’t deny that his fingers itch to touch him. Kurt’s body longs to be in his arms. He’s always wanted that from the first minute he laid eyes on him, and now he knows what following that desire actually can become. He doesn’t want to deny any of it.
“Why can’t you kiss me?” Kurt asks him. He still wants Blaine, and Blaine so clearly wants him, and that part is easy. It’s only the rest that’s difficult.
Blaine’s eyes snap up to his, huge and surprised. “But you don’t want - “
“I don’t want to get back together,” Kurt says. It’s still more complicated to get out than he’d like it to be, but he doesn’t waver. “And I don’t want to hurt our friendship.” He reaches out and puts his hand on Blaine’s shoulder, not a caress but a reassurance. “But I said I wanted to enjoy the wedding, Blaine, and kissing you is always...” He lowers his head a touch and looks up at him from under his lashes, a little coy and a little more direct than he ever used to be. “Enjoyable.” He has to smile, because he’s still not much of a flirt, but the way Blaine’s breath has caught makes it clear it’s worked.
“Kurt...” Blaine sounds caught between hope and uncertainty. He licks his lip, though, and Kurt’s stomach twists in anticipation. He knows what that lip-lick means.
“We don’t have to,” Kurt tells him. He means it, but his blood is already rushing through his veins. He wonders if Blaine’s going to taste like coffee, like toothpaste. He wonders whether his neck still smells as good as it used to. “But I’m offering.“
Blaine takes his hand. “Yes,” he says with a smile. “You know I’m going to say yes.”
Kurt does know, and as he leans toward Blaine he feels happy and in control and sure. “You look really good,” he says with a sense of light-headed contentment as he gets close.
“So do you,” Blaine tells him. He starts to slide down on the seat, tugging Kurt toward him in a motion that brings back so many memories. His smile grows and grows as Kurt willingly fits himself above him. It’s not awkward. It’s so easy, and it sends goosebumps and shivers across Kurt’s body to look down at him again, to feel their legs shifting into the right positions, to feel Blaine’s hand skimming up his side above his jacket. Blaine’s voice is already going rough when he adds, “And you feel even better.”
Kurt smiles down at him, his heart flipping and soaring like a kite in his chest at how good it feels to be here, how right it feels to have made this smart and mature choice, to enjoy himself with someone he trusts and leave the difficult stuff behind, and then he dips his head as Blaine arches up to meet his mouth, and he’s immediately lost in the taste and feel of the kiss he knows best in the world.
It’s Blaine.
3. The evening of Thursday the 14th, the wedding reception
Blaine hasn’t changed the brand of his aftershave, Kurt comes to realize as they dance under the sparkling lights of the reception for the wedding-that-wasn’t, or of the gel in his hair. Blaine smells really good, feels really good, just like he always used to. He’s warm through his clothes and is holding him in that wonderful, secure way he does where it feels like Kurt is something precious to him but not weak, something strong and amazing that Blaine just wants to be near.
Combined with the romance of the setting and the delicious panoply of miniature foods surrounded by well-dressed friends, a part of Kurt thinks it would be easy to get swept away. Six months ago he would have, without a doubt. He would have been caught up in the fairy lights and the nice clothes and been lost in the sentimental dream of romance and the wishes of his own foolish heart.
But now he lives in New York. He’s been to real parties. He’s seen actual couture. He knows that this is just children playing dress-up in comparison, and he knows that the kid in him who was dazzled to dance in a school gym in Ohio with his boyfriend while wearing a plastic prom queen crown has grown up.
He’s still having a fantastic night, but he’s not losing his head over it. Or his heart.
And yet, since he’s determined to be honest - “You smell really good,” Kurt says in Blaine’s ear, their cheeks barely brushing. Blaine’s skin is only just barely not smooth against his; he must have shaved right before he left for the wedding. He moves just as well as he always did, and Kurt has learned more about his own body and moves even better with him. “You always do.”
“Thank you,” Blaine says with a soft laugh. “You must have forgotten what I’m like after gym class.”
Kurt thinks of the strong salty scent of Blaine’s sweat and the way his hair curls around the edges after he’s exerted himself. It’s a powerful thought, one that tugs deep in his gut and makes him think, too, of darkened bedrooms and messy sheets. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”
Blaine laughs again and spins him in a tight circle, his arms holding Kurt close against him through the movement.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were showing off,” Kurt says when his stomach stops fluttering with the grace of the motion. Blaine has learned a few new tricks, too.
Blaine looks him in the eye, smiles so easily, and says, “You know I am.”
“Blaine - “ Kurt begins, because obviously they made out, and obviously they’re flirting with each other, but this isn’t real, this can’t be a new start for them, and if Blaine thinks it is, then -
But Blaine just spins him again, away from the middle of the floor and away from the topic. He’s so smooth at both. “Maybe I’m trying to dare you to show me some of your new NYADA dance moves to prove I’m not outshining you.”
“Oh, yes, because an imperfectly executed plie really compares to that.” Kurt’s tone is dry, but he can’t help his fond, grateful smile that Blaine’s not pushing. He knows Blaine wants to, but at least he isn’t.
Maybe Blaine is growing up, too.
“I have to say,” Kurt says after a moment, because he feels like he ought to offer a gift in return for Blaine giving him that space, “that you’re still my favorite dance partner. NYADA hasn’t changed that.” He knew it didn’t make any sense, but it always felt like Blaine danced with Kurt like he meant it.
“Thank you,” Blaine says, and he looks startled but touched. “I love dancing with you.” His hands flex on Kurt’s back, possessive and happy.
Leaning his cheek back against Blaine’s, Kurt closes his eyes to feel how well they still move together. Their hearts might not be beating as one anymore - if they ever really did - but their bodies know each other. They know how to shift the lead back and forth without talking. They know how to stay close without bumping knees or feet. They know how to move in the same rhythm.
And Blaine feels so good. Kurt’s surprised at how his body is reacting to that closeness. He’d always thought much of his response to Blaine was emotional; as much as he obviously liked the physical acts themselves, he’d always thought he wanted them because he was in love with Blaine. But here he is, beyond that relationship, and he’s still drawn to Blaine. He’s still fascinated by the play of Blaine’s muscles under his jacket. He still wants to press his mouth to that tender spot beneath Blaine’s ear. He’s still breathless when Blaine’s nose brushes against his jaw or his hand dips to the small of his back. It’s such a physical reaction.
Then again, he still really likes Blaine, and he feels comfortable and safe with him. That matters a lot, too. He likes Blaine’s body, but he likes Blaine, and he knows that wanting him and having him wouldn’t hurt him. Hadn’t they laughed their way through kissing? Hadn’t it felt amazing, both familiar and wonderful without all of the baggage of the past? There could just be more of that.
“Blaine?” Kurt asks. His voice is steady, not at all faint, even though his heart is pounding.
“Mmm?” Blaine nuzzles against his jaw again, so careful. He’s not immune, either.
“I have the key to one of the rooms the bridesmaids changed in.” Santana had slipped it into his pocket earlier, and he hadn’t questioned why.
Blaine lifts his head and looks into Kurt’s eyes, his own full of questions.
“Come upstairs with me?” Kurt slides his hand up Blaine’s back. “I’m not trying to make things confusing between us, but - “
“I want to be with you, Kurt. You know that.” Blaine’s face is slowly lighting up, and he’s almost too happy to look at. Kurt doesn’t want to hurt him, he truly doesn’t, but if he’s being honest with him about what he wants and what he doesn’t then it’s Blaine’s job to look after his own heart and make his own choices.
“I know,” Kurt says softly. “I want to be with you, too.”
“I want you to. I really do,” Blaine breathes out like he can’t quite believe his luck.
“I just invited you up to a hotel room, Blaine. I don’t think I can be much more clear.”
“I can’t believe - “ Blaine stops himself with a laugh and steps back enough to take Kurt’s hands. “Right now?”
Kurt nods, a grin growing on his own lips at Blaine’s enthusiasm. “Right now.”
Blaine leans in and gives him a short, sharp peck of a kiss. “What are we waiting for?”
4. The evening of Thursday the 14th, the hotel room
Kurt pulls Blaine into the room by his tie and presses him right back against the door with his body as soon as it is shut. His mouth is on Blaine’s the next second, and Blaine groans and kisses back around his huge smile. He’s pliant and eager, entirely unresisting.
“Kurt,” Blaine says. His voice is going rough, his hands pull Kurt even closer, but he cannot seem to stop smiling. It would be a little worrying if Kurt were going to let himself think about it, but it’s also very, very cute.
“Somehow I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously,” Kurt teases, his fingers already working at Blaine’s tie. He’d gotten some very tantalizing glimpses and touches of skin earlier in the car, and it is time to get a lot more.
“I am,” Blaine insists. “I am. I really am.” His hands come up to cup Kurt’s face, and his next kiss is slower, deeper, and more filled with tender emotions that make Kurt’s heart flutter not entirely pleasantly.
“Blaine, I want to be clear about what I - “ Kurt says with a flare of panic in the back of his throat, because he can’t get caught up in more. He can’t.
“I know,” Blaine tells him. His hands keep Kurt’s face close, his thumbs stroking over his cheeks. “I know.”
“I just don’t want it to be hard between us,” Kurt tells him, looking into Blaine’s eyes for any flicker that he might be on a different page, because if he is then they can’t do this, because as much as he wants Blaine’s hands and mouth all over him he wants Blaine in his life even more, and he cannot hurt over him again.
Blaine is all earnest understanding for a moment, and then his cheeks flush, his eyes crinkle, and he turns his head away and laughs. “Sorry. Sorry,” he says, squirming a little where he is pinned between the door and Kurt’s body.
Kurt has no choice but to smirk at the innuendo, and he glances down Blaine’s body and says archly, “Well, that I very much would want to be hard.”
Blaine’s eyes flick back up to him, and he rolls his hips against Kurt’s. Kurt can feel Blaine’s waking erection against his thigh. “That won’t be a problem.” He licks his lower lip and says, “None of it’s a problem, Kurt.”
Kurt tries to read Blaine’s eyes again, but he knows Blaine too well by now to doubt him. Blaine means what he’s saying. That’s all Kurt can ask for.
“Good,” Kurt says and crosses those last few inches to kiss him. He’s always been an excellent multi-tasker, and it’s only a minute before his own coat is on the chair, Blaine’s tie is on the floor, and Blaine’s shirt is open to the waist. It’s almost a shock to his system to be able to be so sexual without restraint again, but it’s a good one.
“Kurt,” Blaine moans against his mouth, yanking Kurt’s shirt out of his pants and getting his hands on Kurt’s bare back. If it had made Kurt’s head spin in the car it’s a thousand times better here where they don’t have to stop. Blaine makes him feel so wanted, so desirable. He always has. He’s not the only one who feels that way about Kurt anymore, but it’s still a glorious rush.
Still kissing him, Kurt shoves Blaine’s shirt off of his shoulders, too impatient to undo the cuffs and punished for it by it taking longer than it should to get it off of Blaine. He’s distracted by Blaine’s arms for a second, then he attacks Blaine’s undershirt, and the first slide of his palms on the expanse of his skin makes Kurt’s head spin. “Oh, god, I’ve missed this.” He’d never imagined he could be so hurt and still long for someone the way he had, and now that he has Blaine’s so wonderful body in front of him it’s like having a craving filled for something he thought was long lost.
“Kurt,” Blaine says again. His hands are up at Kurt’s shoulder blades under his shirt, their bare abdomens pressed together in a way that threatens to take Kurt’s breath away. He grabs at Blaine’s hip, pushing in closer. “Kurt, I’m never going to get your shirt off you like this.”
“Fuck my shirt,” Kurt says, mouthing down Blaine’s lovely shoulder. He has the best shoulders.
Blaine catches him by the jaw, leans in to give him a wet, desperate kiss, and then says through his ragged breaths, “This isn’t a race. You have no idea how badly I want you, but this isn’t a race. Can we please take your shirt off? And our shoes?”
Kurt makes himself pull away from the fire of his desire and rests his forehead against Blaine’s. He breathes for a second. Blaine’s right; this isn’t a race. He pulls back from the fire in his body, smiles into Blaine’s eyes, and says, “Yes.”
They’re still smiling - a little shyly, a little bit amused by the same joke - as they remove his tie and work on the buttons together, and when Kurt steps away and strips off his shirt and undershirt he hears Blaine’s breath punch out of him. He looks over, surprised.
“Look at you,” Blaine says, leaving his shoes and socks by the door and walking over to him. He reaches out to touch Kurt’s chest, his hand a hot brand against his skin. Kurt doesn’t shake. He doesn’t let himself. “You’re amazing. What you’ve been doing in New York has been working.”
“Yes,” Kurt says, and he means far more than all of the exercise he’s been doing. He knows his chest is a bit broader, his arms stronger, but he’s also learned to carry himself differently. He’s learned to like to be looked at in different ways.
He trails his fingers down Blaine’s chest, tracing the curves and planes of his muscles. He’s gorgeous, perfect. “You, too.”
Blaine steps in close, slides a hand to the small of Kurt’s back, and hauls him in against his body. Kurt makes a soft noise as Blaine kisses his jaw and throat, his mouth warm and wet. “Do you have anything with you?” Blaine asks. “I didn’t think - “
Kurt shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t planning for this.” He’s not sure if he’s glad of it or not, but it does limit their options.
“Okay,” Blaine says. He walks Kurt backwards to the bed and falls with him onto it.
They kiss and kiss, rolling together as they touch, and if it’s not new, sweet, and tender it’s intense in a way that makes Kurt’s heart race and blood run hot. It’s close, heady, this combined search for the most pleasure they can have together and the joy of finding old ways and new to get it. They kiss and turn, stripping off the rest of their clothes and touching as much of each other as they can, both hungry for it, for each other.
Kurt might have changed, but his body reacts the same way to Blaine. He’s so quickly dizzy with him, drunk with him, desperate for him. He pins him against the bed and devours his mouth, lets Blaine hold him close, smiles against Blaine’s skin and laughs against his lips. It’s wonderful, easy. The feel of Blaine’s ass in his hands, the taste of Blaine’s sweat on his tongue, the sound of Blaine’s moans in his ears, the sight of his smile, they all make Kurt feel like he’s going to burst out of his skin long before Blaine’s crawling down him to get his mouth on his cock.
“Let me?” Blaine asks, the hot fan of his breath on Kurt’s erection making it twitch. “I want to. Please, Kurt.”
“Yes,” Kurt tells him, because there’s no way he’d say no. Not to Blaine, not to Blaine doing this, not to Blaine wanting to.
Blaine is already moaning as he licks around the head, and Kurt’s hands are in the sheets before Blaine’s lips are closed around him. He can’t put them in Blaine’s hair, it’s too much, too intimate, but, god, the heat of Blaine’s mouth and the way he flexes his tongue up him just the way he likes are enough to make Kurt forget himself. He can’t do that. He can’t get lost. He has to remember that this is different than the other times they’ve been together, because this isn’t making love, this is sex. It’s good sex, very good, but it’s not what it once was.
So he get his hand on Blaine’s shoulder, keeps his eyes open and up, staring at the awful hotel art instead of Blaine’s dark, eager head. “Like that, like that,” he gasps out when Blaine takes him deeper, because he knows Blaine likes encouragement, and it feels so good. Blaine’s mouth is so wet and hot, moving and sucking perfectly around him, giving him just what he wants. Blaine’s focused, not playing with him but listening to his body, and Kurt knows it’s because Blaine gets off on making Kurt feel this way, like he’s so wrapped up in pleasure and in him he can’t think of anything else. “God, Blaine, like that - “
Kurt thinks of his body many ways: as an instrument for making music, as a finely tuned machine for dancing and acting, as a frame to show off beautiful clothes. When Blaine touches him, though, he feels like he’s something made for pleasure, because everything feels amazing. Every idle drift of Blaine’s fingers on his stomach, every roll of his hips toward Blaine’s mouth, even every moan that comes from his own throat sets him aflame. Even the dry scratch of the hotel’s bedding against his bare skin is incredible, a counterpoint to Blaine’s sweat-dampened body.
He’s missed this so much.
Blaine makes a needy sound deep in his throat, and Kurt looks down to see Blaine watching him. Their eyes meet, and Blaine sucks harder, his hands cupping Kurt’s ass to draw him up and in. Kurt can’t help but rock up into Blaine’s mouth, just a little. He doesn’t want to hurt him, no matter how much his body is demanding more and faster and deeper, and Blaine just watches his face, digs his fingers in a little, and takes it, takes that much more, takes as much as he can with dark, desperate joy shining in his eyes.
Kurt’s body seizes in warning, and he clutches at Blaine’s shoulder, bites his lip, and lets himself fall as his orgasm rushes out of him, hard and fast. He’s forgotten how Blaine can do that, make him lose control like that, and he’s forgotten, too, how Blaine’s always so quick to get close afterwards. Kurt’s barely stopped coming, barely managed a full, steady breath before Blaine’s up against him, on him, his mouth warm at Kurt’s throat, his hands tender on Kurt’s face.
It used to be sweet how connected Blaine wanted to be. Kurt loved knowing that whatever they did was about them to Blaine, about him. In this moment, though, it’s a little alarming and stifling, because that’s part of love, and this isn’t love, not that kind of love, anyway. Kurt’s body isn’t his own yet, still caught in the tremors of his orgasm, and he’s too sated to panic, but he knows it’s coming, or it might be if Blaine doesn’t remember what they’re doing here. Kurt didn’t sign up for love.
“I love that. I love that,” Blaine says as he kisses along Kurt’s ear. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” With a laugh, Kurt slides his hand down between them and finds Blaine’s throbbing erection. It’s the best way to keep them on track, and he’s really like to do some touching of his own. “There’s more to go.”
Draped against him with his leg over Kurt’s, Blaine thrusts into Kurt’s hand without much grace, but then he’s always been so turned on by going down on Kurt. “I know,” he gasps out. His hands sweep along Kurt’s side and up his chest, tracing his ribs and thumbing his nipple. “But touching you, tasting you, that’s the best part.” He leans in for a bruising kiss. He tastes like Kurt as much as himself, and it’s a taste that goes straight to Kurt’s gut, because it’s been a part of so many good times between them, not just the pleasure of blow jobs but of shared love.
“What do you want?” Kurt asks him, because he can’t think about their history. That’s not the point here.
“I just want to keep touching you,” Blaine says, kissing him again, harder, deeper. He gets his hand over Kurt’s so that they’re stroking him together, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing Kurt again and again until Kurt’s heart is in his throat and his breath is coming fast and his body is curled around Blaine’s.
“Blaine,” Kurt whispers, stroking the back of Blaine’s neck with his free hand and feeling fragile and fiercely protective all at once about this boy who seems to want him so badly.
“I think of you so much,” Blaine gasps out, desperate. “Tell me you think of me, too.”
“I do,” Kurt tells him, thick with sadness.
“Kurt, Kurt.” Blaine jerks their hands even faster, and then he’s moaning against Kurt’s mouth as he comes in hot spurts between them. The spatter on Kurt’s skin feels both like a memory and something entirely new. “Oh, my god.” He kisses Kurt again, more gently, and rocks a few last times into their fists, shivering with pleasure before settling down.
Blaine smiles his way through a few more dopey kisses and then flops on the bed beside him, his arm over Kurt’s chest and his leg pressed along Kurt’s from hip to knee. Kurt looks over and takes in the sleepy grin Blaine is giving his pillow, the happy slump of his body, and the sticky, sated flush covering him. Kurt can’t be so easily content.
It was good. Kurt rolls his head back and looks up at the ceiling, breathing out under the comforting weight of Blaine’s arm. It was great, in fact. He feels nicely wrung out and attended to. It might have been a little more intense than he would have expected, a little closer and more personal, but that is the point of having sex with Blaine, isn’t it? It isn’t just bodies; it is people who care about each other. Of course it is personal.
They mean something very important to each other, after all. It’s just not what it was before.
Kurt just needs to be smart and remember the distance between them. This isn’t what it used to be. It’s something new. It’s different. All of that closeness and sweetness, all of the promises Blaine is offering him with his eyes and his touch, they’re not real, not anymore. It’s just a remnant of what was between them, not what is, because Kurt’s not interested in opening himself up to that again. He’s not doing it again.
Blaine rolls toward him again, pressing his smiling lips to the curve of Kurt’s shoulder. After a moment, Kurt lets out a long breath and tips his head so that it’s resting against Blaine’s.
It’s comforting, in a way, that Blaine believes in them so strongly, that he isn’t giving up. It’s a net that Kurt knows is there to catch him, even though he doesn’t need it. He isn’t going to fall.
It might feel like his heart is expanding when he touches Blaine, but Kurt tells himself that’s not what’s happening at all.
5. The afternoon of Friday the 15th, the choir room
“Are you sure you won’t stay? We’d love to have you sing with us again,” Blaine says as he opens the door to the choir room for Kurt. The room is empty before rehearsal. It seems so much smaller to Kurt than it used to, and it still has that hint of a weird tuna fish smell.
Kurt shakes his head. “I can’t. Carole asked me to go shopping with her before I go, and it’s the only time I have before my flight tomorrow.”
“Aw.” Blaine sets down his bag and turns toward him. “Well, we’ll miss you.” His smile is happy and maybe a touch smug. He’s very pleased with how this visit has gone, Kurt can see, and Kurt’s pleased, too, if more wary of Blaine’s reaction to it.
“That’s okay,” Kurt says, trailing a finger along the top of the piano. “You have Tina now. You’ll be just fine.”
Blaine’s smile remains, but his voice is softer when he says, “I know, but I’ll still miss you.”
Kurt makes himself keep looking into his eyes. “I’ll miss you, too.” He owes him the honesty, after all. He always wants to be honest with Blaine. He has to be.
“And maybe, I don’t know...” Blaine crosses one foot over the other as he strolls oh-so-casually over next to him. “Maybe I can come visit you? I’ve been saving up some money.”
“The apartment is getting a little crowded,” Kurt says with a grimace at what his life has become, “but sure. You’re always welcome. Just let me know.”
Blaine’s smile - his beautiful, heart-twisting smile - grows. “Okay.” He bounces on his toes, and warning bells go off in Kurt’s chest, because he wants Blaine to be happy but only for the right reasons.
“This hasn’t changed things between us, Blaine,” Kurt reminds him.
“No, it hasn’t,” Blaine says, and that smile of his doesn’t wobble for a second. He looks really happy, but even more he looks like he knows better, because he’s so damn sure that Kurt is going to come around to something that he really doesn’t feel good about coming around to.
“Why do I think you mean that differently than I do?”
“Because I know you, Kurt.” Blaine slides his hand over Kurt’s shoulder and looks right into his eyes. “I know you, and I know us, and I know what we mean. And none of that’s changed.”
Kurt lets out a slow breath and looks away. He feels helpless and trapped, because Blaine wants so much, and once, not that long ago, he would have dropped everything to give it to him. He wouldn’t have even questioned it. And he doesn’t want to argue about what will happen, he doesn’t want to turn every conversation into a fight just when things are finally okay, but he doesn’t feel that confidence that Blaine does in himself and his heart. He can’t. He doesn’t know how to be okay with everything that Blaine wants, not anymore. He doesn’t know if it’s even reasonable to want to.
“I know,” Blaine says, gently rubbing his arm like he understands Kurt even through his silence. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“I need you to listen to me. I’m not trying to hurt you, but I don’t want you waiting for something that might not ever happen, Blaine,” Kurt says, almost despairing, because if Blaine is it’s going to destroy them all over again.
Blaine leans in and gives Kurt a soft kiss on the lips. “I’m not,” he promises.
~end~
Reminder: I am spoiler-free! Please do not spoil me for what's coming ahead!
NB: I am going to be away attending to difficult family matters this week, so apologies in advance if I am slow to reply to comments. As always, I shall answer (and treasure!) all comments I receive. <3