Fic: Finding A New Script, for prettybird
Media: Fic
Title: Finding A New Script, for prettybird
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: Just over 4500
Summary: "Blaine's my date tonight, dad."
Kurt's dad turned back to the TV. "Okay. Have a good time."
Kurt just stood there for a moment, staring at his dad; Blaine couldn't decide which of them to watch and finally settled for the television. He'd never understood hockey, but this seemed like a fine time to try again. Finally Kurt reached for Blaine's hand, twining their fingers together. "No, dad. Blaine is my date tonight."
A/N: There was an auction to help_japan, and prettybird won my listing! This story is for her, in thanks for her generosity.
(I should mention, too, that sperrywink was a very active bidder on that listing, and so I asked her for prompts, too, because she ran up the bidding and helped to raise a lot more money, and that was, in fact, exactly the point of the exercise. As it happened, the kinds of things sperrywink likes to read dovetail very nicely with prettybird's preferences, so there's something in here for her, too, I think. It's a whole chocolate-and-peanut-butter kind of situation.)
Thanks, as always, to misscake for beta-reading!
Finding A New Script
He pulled up to the house, walked up the sidewalk, and rang the doorbell. It was stupid to be anxious; he'd been here so many times and he was on pretty friendly terms with everybody in this house. But this was different, so he did what he knew and bounced on his toes and shook the kinks out of neck and listened hard for footsteps on the other side.
Finn answered the door with a giant brick of a cordless phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder, a box of Cocoa Puffs in one hand. He waved Blaine in with the box and wandered off, grunting into the phone and pouring cereal into his mouth, leaving Blaine alone in the hallway, staring after him and barely remembering to close the door.
The hallway was dim in the dying light of the early evening, and the house was quiet but he could hear the low murmur of voices coming from the den. When he walked in Kurt's dad was leaning back against the corner of the sofa, beer in one hand and a sandwich in the other. He glanced up from the hockey and then went back to the screen, tossing out, "Hey, Blaine. Don't know what's keeping him - go on up," before taking a bite.
He stalled a moment too long, maybe, because Kurt's dad looked up at him. "Something wrong? Did you need to talk to me again? Because I gave him the pamphlets...." and oh god, this could not get any more awkward.
Kurt chose that moment to come downstairs. Blaine looked up and watched him emerge, a slow glide down the stairs in white jeans, a pale blue button-up, a soft military-style gray cardigan, and a blue and gray patterned scarf, all long legs and bouncing fringe. His hair slid over his brow a little as he hit the last few steps, and Blaine didn't bother to stifle his smile when Kurt rolled his eyes at him while he pats it back into place. Kurt wasn't the only one who liked to touch, and if Blaine could go without a little style control, well, so could he.
"Blaine's my date tonight, dad."
Kurt's dad turned back to the TV. "Okay. Have a good time."
Kurt just stood there for a moment, staring at his dad; Blaine couldn't decide which of them to watch and finally settled for the television. He'd never understood hockey, but this seemed like a fine time to try again. Finally Kurt reached for Blaine's hand, twining their fingers together. "No, dad. Blaine is my date tonight."
He darted a glance at Kurt's dad, whose sandwich was again suspended halfway to his mouth, and this time he was looking at their hands. He sighed and put down his sandwich, and then his eyes went straight to Blaine's.
"This what that was about?" Kurt's dad asked, his tone even, and Blaine spared a moment to be glad he'd already talked to Kurt about his ill-conceived and incredibly awkward talk with his dad, because a comedy of errors was pretty much the last thing they needed right now. This was already everything that's been the most terrifying, the worst case scenario, and the only thing to do was brazen it out.
"Absolutely not, sir. I told you what that was about. This is something else, something new."
Kurt's dad's eyes were probing, and Blaine was doing everything he could to make his face believable, honest, and scared enough to appease his bloodlust. He'd thought he was scary the last time they'd talked, but it seemed like every time they interacted, the stakes were higher and higher, and he couldn't have Kurt's dad angry with him.
"Dad. Dad!" Kurt raised his voice to get his father's attention, and Kurt's dad finally looked away. "Can we please not do this? Not tonight, anyway?"
"You're the one who decided to make sure you got your big declaration, kid. You telling me you weren't looking for a little drama?"
"I might have hoped this could be a happy occasion. Forgive me if I thought my first date with somebody so important to me was worth making a moment of."
It was a tense moment, everybody in the room feeling wrong-footed, but just then Blaine couldn't help it, he had to look at Kurt. Sometimes he still didn't understand Kurt very well; he could swing from wide-open and tender to closed off and bitchy at the drop of a hat, but these glimpses of vulnerability were becoming more common and lasting for longer, and he couldn't help saving up every single one, because they were beautiful. Well, frankly, they were both beautiful, but these were still special.
Kurt was staring straight at his father, his chin high but his mouth soft. His eyes were fierce, proud and sparkling. If Blaine hadn't already been halfway to falling in love before, he certainly would be now, because defiantly sweet was a really good look on Kurt. He smiled, just a little, and squeezed Kurt's hand.
Kurt broke off his staredown with his father and turned to him. His face, so haughty, so hurt, softened just a bit. He wasn't sure what Kurt saw on his face, but suddenly he got that shy hint of Kurt's smile, almost like the one he gave him just after their first kiss, right before they'd leapt into their second. If they were anywhere else at that moment... and, right, Kurt's living room.
He looked back over, and Kurt's dad was back to looking at him, his gaze assessing and thoughtful.
"Mr Hummel, we're just going to a movie, and then maybe for coffee."
Kurt's dad breathed out one long, patient sigh, and then he ran his hand over his head.
"Right. Okay. Back by 11."
"Dad, curfew is midnight!"
His gaze swung back to Kurt. "Tonight it's 11. And bring him with you." He pointed to Blaine with a jut of his chin. "We need to have another little talk."
"Dad -"
Blaine interrupted, "I think that sounds fine. We'll be back by 11. And then we'll talk." He gave Kurt's hand another squeeze, silently begging him to just let it go so they could get the hell out of there, already.
"Fine. 11." Kurt's voice was back to haughty, and Blaine gave him a tug toward the door before his dad could object to anything else.
***
They were quiet for most of the drive to the movie theater, and there was still so much lingering between them that Blaine checked the time and then just pulled into the first spot he saw, pretty far out where it was still empty and dark, so they could talk for a minute.
He turned off the ignition and kept his hands on the steering wheel, still staring straight ahead. "I'm sorry about... all of that."
Kurt was quiet for a moment until he said, "I still don't understand why you did that."
"What, go to your dad?"
"Yes. I don't understand you sometimes."
"The feeling is mutual. But that's not bad, is it? That's what dating is for."
"I just... one week you're telling me that I'm not remotely sexy, and it's such a concern for you that you have to go to my father, because that's obviously something he should be helping me with."
"No, Kurt. It wasn't like that. You just... you scared me, because I didn't know how it would turn out for you and you deserve better. And frankly it - " he broke off, stared out the windshield of the car.
"What?" Kurt's tone was fraught, so to hell with it.
He turned his body toward him. "Frankly it would be a damned shame if you didn't let yourself enjoy that part of your life. It would be... such a waste. Is all."
Kurt mirrored his posture, leaning against the door. He just stared at him, his eyes wide, and then he shook his head a little and continued.
"And then suddenly you were kissing me. And not just...." Kurt drifted off and looked down at his hands.
"What?"
"Not... those were... Look. I know I'm not very experienced -"
"Neither am I!"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fine, we're both idiots. But what I'm saying is that... you kissed me like you wanted to."
"I did want to."
"No, I mean... you kissed me like you wanted me."
"Kurt -"
"I know. I know!" He covered his face with his hands, and his shoulders fell, and Blaine couldn't stay so far away. He leaned forward a little, placing his hand on Kurt's knee.
"Kurt, listen. You stood there in your room and talked about watching porn and I had this flash, this crystal clear moment, of how you would look watching it. And then you pulled me back the other way, because you were sweet and sad and vulnerable, and then you kicked me out of your room. I... it was confusing, okay, but that day... it was important, because it got me thinking about you... differently."
During that speech Kurt had dropped his hands into his lap. "How?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Well, I went and talked to your dad, for one thing. And I - Let's just say that the next time I thought about watching porn, all I could think about was you."
"This! This is exactly what I mean! How is that possible? You told me my sexy faces looked like gas pains!"
"Kurt, that doesn't mean you're not sexy. That means you're a terrible actor."
"I am not!"
Blaine just laughed. "You really are. Right now, for example, you're pretending to be outraged, but you're also trying not to smile."
Kurt finally rolled his eyes and grinned. "Fine."
"You know," he continued, "maybe you're just a little more method, because last week, after I kissed you? You definitely didn't look pained, in any way."
Kurt was giving him that look again, that wide-eyed shy smile. Blaine's heart swelled in his chest, and he wanted so badly to kiss him again, but first....
"I'm glad we're talking about this, actually. That day, you said that you didn't want anything sexier than the brush of fingertips."
Kurt's brow furrowed. "I most certainly did not."
"Yes you did! You said that's what you liked about Broadway musicals!"
"I said I didn't understand it. I said I didn't want to see anything sexier than that. Not that I didn't ever.... "
"I wondered." He looked down to where Kurt's hand had come to cover his. "You kissed me back."
"I did."
"I was pretty sure that you liked it."
"I did," and he sounded breathless, and then he leaned up and tugged Blaine in by the front of his sweater. He leaned across the console and Kurt grabbed him by his shoulders, pulling him into a hug and burying his face in his neck. He rested his cheek against Kurt's, his soft hair tickling at his face, and breathed him in.
"Kurt, we're late for the movie."
"I've read the book."
"I haven't."
Kurt pulled away again to rest his forehead against Blaine's. "It's the gateway drug between Pride & Prejudice and Twilight. I'll explain it to you. Just kiss me again."
So he did, one soft, lingering kiss, their third, and he thought maybe it was time he stopped counting. Kurt played with the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands soft and gentle.
"This date is all out of order," Blaine whispered against his mouth.
"Wouldn't want you to get bored."
"Really not the biggest of my problems right now, no," he agreed, as Kurt's hands tightened in his hair and pulled him into another kiss.
They were fifteen minutes late to the movie, and Blaine didn't regret a moment of it. How could he, when it just meant that Kurt had to lean into him, whispering hot into his ear about everything they'd missed? He didn't feel like he missed a thing.
***
Three hours later and they were back on the sidewalk in front of Kurt's house, and this time he knew what was waiting for him inside. They hadn't talked about it, trying to ignore it all the way through coffee and the ride home, talking about school and Jane Eyre and the New Directions' plans for Nationals. He could tell that Kurt was nervous, though, by the way his free hand kept fussing with his hair.
At the front door Kurt tugged him to a stop, and turned to face him. "Thank you for taking me out tonight."
"Thank you for going with me."
"I had a lovely time."
"So did... wait. Are you working from some kind of script?
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I've been imagining the end of my first date for a while, you know. Sue me if it feels less than spontaneous."
Kurt was still adorable when he's nervous. "Well, I just want to make sure I know my part! Did you hold open auditions for this role? What made you choose me? Can I put it on my resume?"
Kurt raised one brow at him. "You done?"
He just grinned. "What comes next?"
Kurt brought his free hand to his chin, adopting a caricatured thinking pose for a moment. "A kiss. It's supposed to be my first kiss, too, but we'll make an exception for you."
"Very generous."
"I'm like that. But, yes, just one sweet, soft kiss."
"Like this?" and he leaned in, letting their lips slide together so softly. Kurt gave as good as he got, holding Blaine's bottom lip between his own so that when Blaine pulled away it was with a soft pop.
"Mmmm," Kurt hummed against his mouth, "that was pretty good. Let's... give me one more, just so we have a basis for comparison."
Blaine kissed him again, letting his hands come up to rest on Kurt's hips and sliding his index fingers through his belt loops. Kurt's hands were back in his hair, scratching at his scalp and gently pressing against his head to get a better angle. He let himself kiss Kurt longer, harder this time, their lips clinging and holding.
Kurt's breath was coming faster across his lips when he pulled back. "Also not half bad. One more, just to be sure," and that kiss was all Kurt's. He stepped closer, and Blaine slid his arms around him, reaching under his cardigan so his hands were pressed against the thin cotton of his shirt. Kurt felt warm in his arms, so good, and Blaine slid the tip of his tongue across Kurt's bottom lip as he pulled back just to feel him shiver.
"What's supposed to happen next?" he asked, his forehead propped against Kurt's.
"He backs away, smiling enigmatically, and slides his hands down my arms until just our fingertips are touching, and then he thanks me again and promises to call me tomorrow. And then he's gone."
Blaine nuzzled at his face, dropping small kisses against his nose, his cheeks. He trailed his mouth over to his ear, pressing a kiss against the lobe just before he sucked it into his mouth.
Kurt tilted his head and quietly gasped, "And yet you're still here."
"Maybe next time you need to go on a first date with somebody who doesn't like you quite so much," he whispered into his ear, and then he gently took it between his teeth.
Blaine could feel Kurt tighten his hands in the back of his sweater, and then Kurt took a deep breath through his nose. "Right, we're going off-book," and then he turned his head to take Blaine's lips in another kiss, hot and hungry. Blaine gasped into it and Kurt slipped his tongue into his mouth, hot and wet and sliding against his own. Here they were again, right at the edge of something wonderfully dangerous, right where they had been when they'd finished making out for the first time, back when it had been so much, so fast, and they'd had to pull away to breathe and stare at each other, just to make sure it was real. This time nobody pulled away; Kurt had one hand wrapped strong around the back of his neck, holding their mouths together, and the other braced between his shoulder blades, and Blaine let his own hands slide down Kurt's back to rest right at the top of Kurt's ass, pulling them tighter together. Kurt shuffled back so he could lean against the doorjamb, pulling Blaine with him, and then they were plastered together, kissing fast and deep. Kurt kissed down his neck, sucking lightly at the hollow of his throat, and Blaine felt himself getting hard because god, his mouth. He slid his hands up Kurt's back, pressing him close, then down, sliding over his ass just once, barely, before his hands were back to clutching at Kurt's shirt.
"God, I don't ever want to stop kissing you," he gasped.
"Then don't," Kurt replied, fully breathless, before he came up to find his mouth again. Blaine fell instantly into the rhythm of the kiss, the slick slide of their tongues, the soft moan Kurt made against his mouth and the way it rumbled down into his chest. He pressed forward, sliding a foot between Kurt's. Kurt's hand went tight in his hair, keeping their mouths fused together while he slid his other hand around to rub at Blaine's chest, softly at first but then more firmly, long sweeping arcs up and down his side in time with the movement of his tongue. Blaine's hips started to pick up the rhythm, pressing tentative at first but then Kurt moaned again and fuck it felt good, their bodies moving together so close, Kurt hot and pliant against him.
The porch light came on, blazing bright even through his eyelids, and Blaine froze.
Kurt pulled back and blinked at the light, then dropped his hands and buried his face in Blaine's shoulder. "Fuck," he breathed out.
"Oh my god, I can't believe I have to go talk to your dad right now."
"On the bright side, we just made out on my front porch."
"Yeah," and then they were silent for a while, breathing through it, trying to calm down and just be quiet together.
"Look, he won't - he doesn't dislike you, is my point. I think he just wants to, you know, fear-of-god you a little bit." Blaine sighed. "I survived a sex talk from him that was pretty much all your fault. You have this coming, as far as I'm concerned."
"Did your dad tell you that I said you were really compassionate?"
"No, did you?" Kurt pulled back and his smile was pleased. "Well that's very nice."
Blaine held his gaze and waited for the obvious implication to sink in, and it was only a few seconds before Kurt's jaw was dropping and he swatted Blaine on the arm. "Very nice. And to think that I was going to offer to fix your hair so it wouldn't be obvious to my dad that I just had my fist in it."
Blaine grinned at him. "Like you don't want to get your hands back in my hair. Who are you kidding?"
Kurt just raised a brow and turned him by the shoulders, and then gently started finger-combing the curls in the back.
***
"Anything you want to tell me?" Kurt's dad had given him a narrow look when they finally came in, and Kurt had scooted upstairs pretty quickly; his willingness to abandon Blaine to the line of fire was a little disconcerting. His dad had offered him pop or a glass of water, they had taken up their stations on either side of the kitchen table, and then it was on.
"I think the first thing you need to know is that you can trust me. With Kurt, I mean. You can trust me with Kurt."
Kurt's dad snorted into his glass. "Look, kid - I don't even trust Kurt with Kurt. It's not really personal, it's just... that's my kid, and he's had a rough year. He doesn't need anything to make it harder."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"Hell, I don't know. Would you call what you've done so far, 'easy'?"
Blaine stared at the table and resolutely did not start playing with the flip tab of his soda can. "You know, I came and talked to you that day not because of... this. I came and talked to you because I care about him. He was my friend first, whatever else is going on."
Kurt's dad leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "What else is going on?"
Blaine balked. "That... that's private."
"Can't be that private - it was just happening on my front porch."
Blaine squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and when he opened them they stayed focused on the table. "I don't know what you want me to say. I like him. He surprises me, and he makes me happy. I like that underneath all of that... thing he does, he's kind and funny and smart and sweet. As for... I like it when he's close to me, and I can tell that he likes it, too. We're old enough, we're together - it's not inappropriate, and you've known that Kurt is gay for a long time." He breathed out and looked up at Kurt's dad. "I don't know why this has to be hard. We like each other."
Kurt's dad pulled a little face, gave him a little nod. "You date a lot?"
"No! There were a few things I thought might go somewhere else, but this is my first real relationship."
"That what this is?"
"Yes. Definitely."
Kurt's dad sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He leaned forward and rested his arms against the table, and looked hard at Blaine. "Look. Blaine. You wanted us talking honestly about what's best for Kurt? That's fine. He needs somebody in his corner, and I'm damn glad you're there. So I'm asking you, man to man: just... remember that he is a person. I have loved him since way before you came along, and he will have to live with himself for years after you're gone. You remember that, and you treat him like that? I got no problem with you dating Kurt."
"Thank you. And I think - I mean, you have no idea the degree to which I understand that about Kurt. That he's special."
"Glad to hear it." Kurt's dad scraped his chair back from the table and reached across it, and Blaine stood to shake his hand.
"Thank you, sir."
"I think 'Burt' would be fine."
"Thanks."
They walked toward the front door, quiet, because there was nothing left to say.
"Wait!" Kurt thundered down the stairs, feet bare, scarf and cardigan gone. "I want to walk him out."
"Kurt -"
"Oh, come on dad. I'm not going anywhere - I'll be right outside. Ten minutes."
"Fine. Ten minutes. Blaine, I'm glad you came back tonight - thanks for doing that. Enjoyed our talk."
"Me too, sir. Burt. Good night," he called over his shoulder as Kurt took his hand and led him out the door.
Kurt closed the front door and leaned back against it. They'd turned the porch light off when they went inside, so it was dark again, and Blaine could just make him out in the dim light of the streetlamps.
"'Burt'? What did you say to him?"
"I think I just told him that I'm not using you for sex."
"I could have told him that."
"I think your dad thought I was some kind of... player."
Kurt snorted.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Kurt reached out for his waist, reeling him in until they were standing so close that Blaine blocked out almost all of the light, leaving Kurt deep in shadow.
"I'm not saying you couldn't be; I'm just saying you aren't. I'm glad," Kurt said, and then he kissed him. Blaine reached up to cradle his face in both hands, feeling slight stubble along Kurt's jawline pressed into his palms, the tickle of his hair under the very tips of his fingers. Kurt felt so delicate, so beautiful, and suddenly Blaine felt their closeness, like he could wrap himself in Kurt for warmth. He wanted to stay right there forever, in this sweet, still almost-chaste kiss, and hold on to him.
Kurt pulled back to murmur against his mouth. "What are you using instead?"
"What?" He rubbed their noses together, feeling Kurt's breath and eyelashes against his cheeks
"For sex."
"Kurt," he groaned.
"Not yet, you aren't," Kurt responded, his tone playful.
"God, you're killing me."
"Not yet," and this time the hint of a whisper, pressed close against his ear, made him shiver, because it was more - it was a promise.
It was also a good stopping point, because their time was running out quickly and if he stayed any longer it would only get harder to leave. He kissed Kurt once more - soft and sweet, just slipping his tongue into his mouth to slide gently against Kurt's - and then he pulled back. He slowly kissed Kurt's nose, his forehead, both cheeks, and then he just watched him, still cradling his face, until he opened his eyes, detached and dreamy. Then he smiled at him and let his hands slide down his arms, lifting his hands and stepping back until just their fingertips were touching.
"Thank you again for going out with me. I'll call you tomorrow."
Kurt raised a brow but smiled sweetly at him as he went, and he walked down the sidewalk to his car with a bounce in his step. He turned as he climbed into his car; Kurt was still standing at the door, watching him go.
Title: Finding A New Script, for prettybird
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: Just over 4500
Summary: "Blaine's my date tonight, dad."
Kurt's dad turned back to the TV. "Okay. Have a good time."
Kurt just stood there for a moment, staring at his dad; Blaine couldn't decide which of them to watch and finally settled for the television. He'd never understood hockey, but this seemed like a fine time to try again. Finally Kurt reached for Blaine's hand, twining their fingers together. "No, dad. Blaine is my date tonight."
A/N: There was an auction to help_japan, and prettybird won my listing! This story is for her, in thanks for her generosity.
(I should mention, too, that sperrywink was a very active bidder on that listing, and so I asked her for prompts, too, because she ran up the bidding and helped to raise a lot more money, and that was, in fact, exactly the point of the exercise. As it happened, the kinds of things sperrywink likes to read dovetail very nicely with prettybird's preferences, so there's something in here for her, too, I think. It's a whole chocolate-and-peanut-butter kind of situation.)
Thanks, as always, to misscake for beta-reading!
Finding A New Script
He pulled up to the house, walked up the sidewalk, and rang the doorbell. It was stupid to be anxious; he'd been here so many times and he was on pretty friendly terms with everybody in this house. But this was different, so he did what he knew and bounced on his toes and shook the kinks out of neck and listened hard for footsteps on the other side.
Finn answered the door with a giant brick of a cordless phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder, a box of Cocoa Puffs in one hand. He waved Blaine in with the box and wandered off, grunting into the phone and pouring cereal into his mouth, leaving Blaine alone in the hallway, staring after him and barely remembering to close the door.
The hallway was dim in the dying light of the early evening, and the house was quiet but he could hear the low murmur of voices coming from the den. When he walked in Kurt's dad was leaning back against the corner of the sofa, beer in one hand and a sandwich in the other. He glanced up from the hockey and then went back to the screen, tossing out, "Hey, Blaine. Don't know what's keeping him - go on up," before taking a bite.
He stalled a moment too long, maybe, because Kurt's dad looked up at him. "Something wrong? Did you need to talk to me again? Because I gave him the pamphlets...." and oh god, this could not get any more awkward.
Kurt chose that moment to come downstairs. Blaine looked up and watched him emerge, a slow glide down the stairs in white jeans, a pale blue button-up, a soft military-style gray cardigan, and a blue and gray patterned scarf, all long legs and bouncing fringe. His hair slid over his brow a little as he hit the last few steps, and Blaine didn't bother to stifle his smile when Kurt rolled his eyes at him while he pats it back into place. Kurt wasn't the only one who liked to touch, and if Blaine could go without a little style control, well, so could he.
"Blaine's my date tonight, dad."
Kurt's dad turned back to the TV. "Okay. Have a good time."
Kurt just stood there for a moment, staring at his dad; Blaine couldn't decide which of them to watch and finally settled for the television. He'd never understood hockey, but this seemed like a fine time to try again. Finally Kurt reached for Blaine's hand, twining their fingers together. "No, dad. Blaine is my date tonight."
He darted a glance at Kurt's dad, whose sandwich was again suspended halfway to his mouth, and this time he was looking at their hands. He sighed and put down his sandwich, and then his eyes went straight to Blaine's.
"This what that was about?" Kurt's dad asked, his tone even, and Blaine spared a moment to be glad he'd already talked to Kurt about his ill-conceived and incredibly awkward talk with his dad, because a comedy of errors was pretty much the last thing they needed right now. This was already everything that's been the most terrifying, the worst case scenario, and the only thing to do was brazen it out.
"Absolutely not, sir. I told you what that was about. This is something else, something new."
Kurt's dad's eyes were probing, and Blaine was doing everything he could to make his face believable, honest, and scared enough to appease his bloodlust. He'd thought he was scary the last time they'd talked, but it seemed like every time they interacted, the stakes were higher and higher, and he couldn't have Kurt's dad angry with him.
"Dad. Dad!" Kurt raised his voice to get his father's attention, and Kurt's dad finally looked away. "Can we please not do this? Not tonight, anyway?"
"You're the one who decided to make sure you got your big declaration, kid. You telling me you weren't looking for a little drama?"
"I might have hoped this could be a happy occasion. Forgive me if I thought my first date with somebody so important to me was worth making a moment of."
It was a tense moment, everybody in the room feeling wrong-footed, but just then Blaine couldn't help it, he had to look at Kurt. Sometimes he still didn't understand Kurt very well; he could swing from wide-open and tender to closed off and bitchy at the drop of a hat, but these glimpses of vulnerability were becoming more common and lasting for longer, and he couldn't help saving up every single one, because they were beautiful. Well, frankly, they were both beautiful, but these were still special.
Kurt was staring straight at his father, his chin high but his mouth soft. His eyes were fierce, proud and sparkling. If Blaine hadn't already been halfway to falling in love before, he certainly would be now, because defiantly sweet was a really good look on Kurt. He smiled, just a little, and squeezed Kurt's hand.
Kurt broke off his staredown with his father and turned to him. His face, so haughty, so hurt, softened just a bit. He wasn't sure what Kurt saw on his face, but suddenly he got that shy hint of Kurt's smile, almost like the one he gave him just after their first kiss, right before they'd leapt into their second. If they were anywhere else at that moment... and, right, Kurt's living room.
He looked back over, and Kurt's dad was back to looking at him, his gaze assessing and thoughtful.
"Mr Hummel, we're just going to a movie, and then maybe for coffee."
Kurt's dad breathed out one long, patient sigh, and then he ran his hand over his head.
"Right. Okay. Back by 11."
"Dad, curfew is midnight!"
His gaze swung back to Kurt. "Tonight it's 11. And bring him with you." He pointed to Blaine with a jut of his chin. "We need to have another little talk."
"Dad -"
Blaine interrupted, "I think that sounds fine. We'll be back by 11. And then we'll talk." He gave Kurt's hand another squeeze, silently begging him to just let it go so they could get the hell out of there, already.
"Fine. 11." Kurt's voice was back to haughty, and Blaine gave him a tug toward the door before his dad could object to anything else.
***
They were quiet for most of the drive to the movie theater, and there was still so much lingering between them that Blaine checked the time and then just pulled into the first spot he saw, pretty far out where it was still empty and dark, so they could talk for a minute.
He turned off the ignition and kept his hands on the steering wheel, still staring straight ahead. "I'm sorry about... all of that."
Kurt was quiet for a moment until he said, "I still don't understand why you did that."
"What, go to your dad?"
"Yes. I don't understand you sometimes."
"The feeling is mutual. But that's not bad, is it? That's what dating is for."
"I just... one week you're telling me that I'm not remotely sexy, and it's such a concern for you that you have to go to my father, because that's obviously something he should be helping me with."
"No, Kurt. It wasn't like that. You just... you scared me, because I didn't know how it would turn out for you and you deserve better. And frankly it - " he broke off, stared out the windshield of the car.
"What?" Kurt's tone was fraught, so to hell with it.
He turned his body toward him. "Frankly it would be a damned shame if you didn't let yourself enjoy that part of your life. It would be... such a waste. Is all."
Kurt mirrored his posture, leaning against the door. He just stared at him, his eyes wide, and then he shook his head a little and continued.
"And then suddenly you were kissing me. And not just...." Kurt drifted off and looked down at his hands.
"What?"
"Not... those were... Look. I know I'm not very experienced -"
"Neither am I!"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fine, we're both idiots. But what I'm saying is that... you kissed me like you wanted to."
"I did want to."
"No, I mean... you kissed me like you wanted me."
"Kurt -"
"I know. I know!" He covered his face with his hands, and his shoulders fell, and Blaine couldn't stay so far away. He leaned forward a little, placing his hand on Kurt's knee.
"Kurt, listen. You stood there in your room and talked about watching porn and I had this flash, this crystal clear moment, of how you would look watching it. And then you pulled me back the other way, because you were sweet and sad and vulnerable, and then you kicked me out of your room. I... it was confusing, okay, but that day... it was important, because it got me thinking about you... differently."
During that speech Kurt had dropped his hands into his lap. "How?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Well, I went and talked to your dad, for one thing. And I - Let's just say that the next time I thought about watching porn, all I could think about was you."
"This! This is exactly what I mean! How is that possible? You told me my sexy faces looked like gas pains!"
"Kurt, that doesn't mean you're not sexy. That means you're a terrible actor."
"I am not!"
Blaine just laughed. "You really are. Right now, for example, you're pretending to be outraged, but you're also trying not to smile."
Kurt finally rolled his eyes and grinned. "Fine."
"You know," he continued, "maybe you're just a little more method, because last week, after I kissed you? You definitely didn't look pained, in any way."
Kurt was giving him that look again, that wide-eyed shy smile. Blaine's heart swelled in his chest, and he wanted so badly to kiss him again, but first....
"I'm glad we're talking about this, actually. That day, you said that you didn't want anything sexier than the brush of fingertips."
Kurt's brow furrowed. "I most certainly did not."
"Yes you did! You said that's what you liked about Broadway musicals!"
"I said I didn't understand it. I said I didn't want to see anything sexier than that. Not that I didn't ever.... "
"I wondered." He looked down to where Kurt's hand had come to cover his. "You kissed me back."
"I did."
"I was pretty sure that you liked it."
"I did," and he sounded breathless, and then he leaned up and tugged Blaine in by the front of his sweater. He leaned across the console and Kurt grabbed him by his shoulders, pulling him into a hug and burying his face in his neck. He rested his cheek against Kurt's, his soft hair tickling at his face, and breathed him in.
"Kurt, we're late for the movie."
"I've read the book."
"I haven't."
Kurt pulled away again to rest his forehead against Blaine's. "It's the gateway drug between Pride & Prejudice and Twilight. I'll explain it to you. Just kiss me again."
So he did, one soft, lingering kiss, their third, and he thought maybe it was time he stopped counting. Kurt played with the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands soft and gentle.
"This date is all out of order," Blaine whispered against his mouth.
"Wouldn't want you to get bored."
"Really not the biggest of my problems right now, no," he agreed, as Kurt's hands tightened in his hair and pulled him into another kiss.
They were fifteen minutes late to the movie, and Blaine didn't regret a moment of it. How could he, when it just meant that Kurt had to lean into him, whispering hot into his ear about everything they'd missed? He didn't feel like he missed a thing.
***
Three hours later and they were back on the sidewalk in front of Kurt's house, and this time he knew what was waiting for him inside. They hadn't talked about it, trying to ignore it all the way through coffee and the ride home, talking about school and Jane Eyre and the New Directions' plans for Nationals. He could tell that Kurt was nervous, though, by the way his free hand kept fussing with his hair.
At the front door Kurt tugged him to a stop, and turned to face him. "Thank you for taking me out tonight."
"Thank you for going with me."
"I had a lovely time."
"So did... wait. Are you working from some kind of script?
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I've been imagining the end of my first date for a while, you know. Sue me if it feels less than spontaneous."
Kurt was still adorable when he's nervous. "Well, I just want to make sure I know my part! Did you hold open auditions for this role? What made you choose me? Can I put it on my resume?"
Kurt raised one brow at him. "You done?"
He just grinned. "What comes next?"
Kurt brought his free hand to his chin, adopting a caricatured thinking pose for a moment. "A kiss. It's supposed to be my first kiss, too, but we'll make an exception for you."
"Very generous."
"I'm like that. But, yes, just one sweet, soft kiss."
"Like this?" and he leaned in, letting their lips slide together so softly. Kurt gave as good as he got, holding Blaine's bottom lip between his own so that when Blaine pulled away it was with a soft pop.
"Mmmm," Kurt hummed against his mouth, "that was pretty good. Let's... give me one more, just so we have a basis for comparison."
Blaine kissed him again, letting his hands come up to rest on Kurt's hips and sliding his index fingers through his belt loops. Kurt's hands were back in his hair, scratching at his scalp and gently pressing against his head to get a better angle. He let himself kiss Kurt longer, harder this time, their lips clinging and holding.
Kurt's breath was coming faster across his lips when he pulled back. "Also not half bad. One more, just to be sure," and that kiss was all Kurt's. He stepped closer, and Blaine slid his arms around him, reaching under his cardigan so his hands were pressed against the thin cotton of his shirt. Kurt felt warm in his arms, so good, and Blaine slid the tip of his tongue across Kurt's bottom lip as he pulled back just to feel him shiver.
"What's supposed to happen next?" he asked, his forehead propped against Kurt's.
"He backs away, smiling enigmatically, and slides his hands down my arms until just our fingertips are touching, and then he thanks me again and promises to call me tomorrow. And then he's gone."
Blaine nuzzled at his face, dropping small kisses against his nose, his cheeks. He trailed his mouth over to his ear, pressing a kiss against the lobe just before he sucked it into his mouth.
Kurt tilted his head and quietly gasped, "And yet you're still here."
"Maybe next time you need to go on a first date with somebody who doesn't like you quite so much," he whispered into his ear, and then he gently took it between his teeth.
Blaine could feel Kurt tighten his hands in the back of his sweater, and then Kurt took a deep breath through his nose. "Right, we're going off-book," and then he turned his head to take Blaine's lips in another kiss, hot and hungry. Blaine gasped into it and Kurt slipped his tongue into his mouth, hot and wet and sliding against his own. Here they were again, right at the edge of something wonderfully dangerous, right where they had been when they'd finished making out for the first time, back when it had been so much, so fast, and they'd had to pull away to breathe and stare at each other, just to make sure it was real. This time nobody pulled away; Kurt had one hand wrapped strong around the back of his neck, holding their mouths together, and the other braced between his shoulder blades, and Blaine let his own hands slide down Kurt's back to rest right at the top of Kurt's ass, pulling them tighter together. Kurt shuffled back so he could lean against the doorjamb, pulling Blaine with him, and then they were plastered together, kissing fast and deep. Kurt kissed down his neck, sucking lightly at the hollow of his throat, and Blaine felt himself getting hard because god, his mouth. He slid his hands up Kurt's back, pressing him close, then down, sliding over his ass just once, barely, before his hands were back to clutching at Kurt's shirt.
"God, I don't ever want to stop kissing you," he gasped.
"Then don't," Kurt replied, fully breathless, before he came up to find his mouth again. Blaine fell instantly into the rhythm of the kiss, the slick slide of their tongues, the soft moan Kurt made against his mouth and the way it rumbled down into his chest. He pressed forward, sliding a foot between Kurt's. Kurt's hand went tight in his hair, keeping their mouths fused together while he slid his other hand around to rub at Blaine's chest, softly at first but then more firmly, long sweeping arcs up and down his side in time with the movement of his tongue. Blaine's hips started to pick up the rhythm, pressing tentative at first but then Kurt moaned again and fuck it felt good, their bodies moving together so close, Kurt hot and pliant against him.
The porch light came on, blazing bright even through his eyelids, and Blaine froze.
Kurt pulled back and blinked at the light, then dropped his hands and buried his face in Blaine's shoulder. "Fuck," he breathed out.
"Oh my god, I can't believe I have to go talk to your dad right now."
"On the bright side, we just made out on my front porch."
"Yeah," and then they were silent for a while, breathing through it, trying to calm down and just be quiet together.
"Look, he won't - he doesn't dislike you, is my point. I think he just wants to, you know, fear-of-god you a little bit." Blaine sighed. "I survived a sex talk from him that was pretty much all your fault. You have this coming, as far as I'm concerned."
"Did your dad tell you that I said you were really compassionate?"
"No, did you?" Kurt pulled back and his smile was pleased. "Well that's very nice."
Blaine held his gaze and waited for the obvious implication to sink in, and it was only a few seconds before Kurt's jaw was dropping and he swatted Blaine on the arm. "Very nice. And to think that I was going to offer to fix your hair so it wouldn't be obvious to my dad that I just had my fist in it."
Blaine grinned at him. "Like you don't want to get your hands back in my hair. Who are you kidding?"
Kurt just raised a brow and turned him by the shoulders, and then gently started finger-combing the curls in the back.
***
"Anything you want to tell me?" Kurt's dad had given him a narrow look when they finally came in, and Kurt had scooted upstairs pretty quickly; his willingness to abandon Blaine to the line of fire was a little disconcerting. His dad had offered him pop or a glass of water, they had taken up their stations on either side of the kitchen table, and then it was on.
"I think the first thing you need to know is that you can trust me. With Kurt, I mean. You can trust me with Kurt."
Kurt's dad snorted into his glass. "Look, kid - I don't even trust Kurt with Kurt. It's not really personal, it's just... that's my kid, and he's had a rough year. He doesn't need anything to make it harder."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"Hell, I don't know. Would you call what you've done so far, 'easy'?"
Blaine stared at the table and resolutely did not start playing with the flip tab of his soda can. "You know, I came and talked to you that day not because of... this. I came and talked to you because I care about him. He was my friend first, whatever else is going on."
Kurt's dad leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "What else is going on?"
Blaine balked. "That... that's private."
"Can't be that private - it was just happening on my front porch."
Blaine squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and when he opened them they stayed focused on the table. "I don't know what you want me to say. I like him. He surprises me, and he makes me happy. I like that underneath all of that... thing he does, he's kind and funny and smart and sweet. As for... I like it when he's close to me, and I can tell that he likes it, too. We're old enough, we're together - it's not inappropriate, and you've known that Kurt is gay for a long time." He breathed out and looked up at Kurt's dad. "I don't know why this has to be hard. We like each other."
Kurt's dad pulled a little face, gave him a little nod. "You date a lot?"
"No! There were a few things I thought might go somewhere else, but this is my first real relationship."
"That what this is?"
"Yes. Definitely."
Kurt's dad sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He leaned forward and rested his arms against the table, and looked hard at Blaine. "Look. Blaine. You wanted us talking honestly about what's best for Kurt? That's fine. He needs somebody in his corner, and I'm damn glad you're there. So I'm asking you, man to man: just... remember that he is a person. I have loved him since way before you came along, and he will have to live with himself for years after you're gone. You remember that, and you treat him like that? I got no problem with you dating Kurt."
"Thank you. And I think - I mean, you have no idea the degree to which I understand that about Kurt. That he's special."
"Glad to hear it." Kurt's dad scraped his chair back from the table and reached across it, and Blaine stood to shake his hand.
"Thank you, sir."
"I think 'Burt' would be fine."
"Thanks."
They walked toward the front door, quiet, because there was nothing left to say.
"Wait!" Kurt thundered down the stairs, feet bare, scarf and cardigan gone. "I want to walk him out."
"Kurt -"
"Oh, come on dad. I'm not going anywhere - I'll be right outside. Ten minutes."
"Fine. Ten minutes. Blaine, I'm glad you came back tonight - thanks for doing that. Enjoyed our talk."
"Me too, sir. Burt. Good night," he called over his shoulder as Kurt took his hand and led him out the door.
Kurt closed the front door and leaned back against it. They'd turned the porch light off when they went inside, so it was dark again, and Blaine could just make him out in the dim light of the streetlamps.
"'Burt'? What did you say to him?"
"I think I just told him that I'm not using you for sex."
"I could have told him that."
"I think your dad thought I was some kind of... player."
Kurt snorted.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Kurt reached out for his waist, reeling him in until they were standing so close that Blaine blocked out almost all of the light, leaving Kurt deep in shadow.
"I'm not saying you couldn't be; I'm just saying you aren't. I'm glad," Kurt said, and then he kissed him. Blaine reached up to cradle his face in both hands, feeling slight stubble along Kurt's jawline pressed into his palms, the tickle of his hair under the very tips of his fingers. Kurt felt so delicate, so beautiful, and suddenly Blaine felt their closeness, like he could wrap himself in Kurt for warmth. He wanted to stay right there forever, in this sweet, still almost-chaste kiss, and hold on to him.
Kurt pulled back to murmur against his mouth. "What are you using instead?"
"What?" He rubbed their noses together, feeling Kurt's breath and eyelashes against his cheeks
"For sex."
"Kurt," he groaned.
"Not yet, you aren't," Kurt responded, his tone playful.
"God, you're killing me."
"Not yet," and this time the hint of a whisper, pressed close against his ear, made him shiver, because it was more - it was a promise.
It was also a good stopping point, because their time was running out quickly and if he stayed any longer it would only get harder to leave. He kissed Kurt once more - soft and sweet, just slipping his tongue into his mouth to slide gently against Kurt's - and then he pulled back. He slowly kissed Kurt's nose, his forehead, both cheeks, and then he just watched him, still cradling his face, until he opened his eyes, detached and dreamy. Then he smiled at him and let his hands slide down his arms, lifting his hands and stepping back until just their fingertips were touching.
"Thank you again for going out with me. I'll call you tomorrow."
Kurt raised a brow but smiled sweetly at him as he went, and he walked down the sidewalk to his car with a bounce in his step. He turned as he climbed into his car; Kurt was still standing at the door, watching him go.