Perfect In My Mind, Kurt/Blaine, NC-17, 1/3

[skintightsocks]

Title: Perfect In My Mind
Author: skintightsocks
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Word Count: 28,300+
Summary: Kurt never thought that losing one's virginity would take so much planning. He was prepared for the "Are we ready?" talk and the "Let's be safe!" talk and all the other stuff he knew would be coming, but he wasn't expecting to have to pull out strategic military planning just to get the chance. AKA: Kurt and Blaine trying and failing to lose their virginities until they succeed, with feelings and misunderstandings and shenanigans and Puckermans along the way.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Underage drinking and unprotected sex between two characters who are under 18 but of the age of consent.
Author Notes: Title is from the song 'Perfect In My Mind' by Gold Motel. The original idea for this fic was 'How Kurt And Blaine Lost Their Virginities: A Love Story' which was going to be told short and sweet and in five times format. This... is not that fic. This is 28k of fic we should not have written, since the intention was to write something fun and quick and then buckle down on our klainebigbang. THEY JUST KEPT HAVING FEELINGS? WE HAD A LOT OF JOKES TO MAKE ABOUT FINN?? WE HADN'T WRITTEN ENOUGH PEOPLE COCKBLOCKING THEM YET??? Our reasons are both plentiful and pointless. Anyway! It happened, so we hope you enjoy way too many words about teenage boys in love in the summertime! \o/ Many thanks to preromantics for pointing out typos and cheerleading, and to inovertime for cheerleading as well. ♥



June 5th

"Okay," Blaine gasps as Kurt kisses down his neck. "Okay, okay, you, that--"

"Are you trying to say something or just saying words to say them?" Kurt asks, because Blaine does that sometimes.

"That-- that thing with the neck," Blaine groans. "That's--"

"Yeah?" Kurt asks, smiling down at him. They're sprawled across Kurt's bed, taking advantage of the three-hour window they have while Finn's over at Rachel's house and his dad and Carole are still at work. "As you know, I'm committed to this plan."

"You're absurd," Blaine laughs, darting in and kissing at his jaw. Blaine had come over immediately after his Six Flags audition, pouting and disappointed because he didn't get the role. Kurt had gone through his entire book of tricks for cheering Blaine up - complimenting his talent in long, loving detail, making him cookies, insulting the guy who got the role while they ate the cookies - but in the end he'd had to result to cheer-up make outs. Not that he's complaining, of course. Not when Blaine is arching and squirming beneath him and they have at least another hour before anyone gets home.

"Absurdly talented at the neck thing?" Kurt asks pointedly, smiling down at Blaine before he ducks his head and sucks back over the spot on Blaine's neck that's driving him crazy.

"Yeah," Blaine agrees breathlessly, his hands tightening around Kurt's arms as Kurt sucks at the skin of his neck. Blaine keeps trying to arch his head back more, stretch his neck longer and longer under Kurt's mouth, and Kurt reaches for the buttons on Blaine's polo so he can get to more skin.

He's got exactly one button undone when Blaine sits up suddenly, almost knocking their foreheads together, and blurts out, "I'm a virgin!"

"I... okay? Me too?" Kurt says, confused. They haven't gotten around to that conversation yet, but Kurt always assumed he was from Blaine confessing he's never had a boyfriend, and Blaine obviously already knew Kurt was a virgin. They're not rushing anything, though, so he doesn't know why Blaine felt the need to proclaim it loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

"Okay," Blaine says, nodding. "Okay, that's good then." Then he stands up, kisses Kurt on the forehead, and walks out of the room. Kurt's still sitting on the bed, staring down blankly at where Blaine was spread out under him a minute ago, when he hears Blaine's car start.

-

"One button," Kurt says, angrily stirring cream into his medium drip. Stupid Blaine has gotten him hooked on the caffeine rush, but he misses the sugar rush so he ends up using like four containers of low-fat creamer and defeating the entire purpose of trying to avoid the calories of a mocha and it's just one more example of Blaine ruining everything. "I undid one button, Mercedes. One. That's it."

"Wait," Mercedes says, lifting an eyebrow. "You really haven't even gotten to second base with him? After what you told me several times was the world's steamiest first kiss?"

"No, we haven't," Kurt says, gritting his teeth a little. "We're taking it slow."

"You're taking it old-lady-riding-a-turtle-in-the-carpool-lane slow," Mercedes says with a smirk.

"And I suppose you're regularly hitting home runs with your secret mystery boyfriend?" Kurt says tightly, because he's still a little mad that he hasn't been able to figure it out.

"Ladies don't kiss and tell," Mercedes tells him, taking a sip of her mocha. "But let's just say he doesn't loudly proclaim his virginity when I undo a button."

"Goody for you," Kurt gripes, stomping over to the counter to grab another container of hazelnut. He's had a rough day. He deserves it.

-

Kurt is not moping. He's not. No matter what Mercedes and Rachel and Carole and now, apparently, his father may say.

"Listen, kiddo, relationships can't be perfect all the time. There are gonna be fights," Burt says, staring at the TV where some moron is trying to drive a big rig on an iced-over mountain road. Kurt really does not understand his dad's taste in television.

"I know that," Kurt says tersely. "Blaine and I fight all the time because he's so wrong about so many things." To be fair, Blaine is right about a lot of things too, but Kurt's been ignoring that detail ever since Blaine decided to stop answering Kurt's calls and texts.

"Not fights like that, and you know it," Burt says with a sigh, turning to face Kurt on the couch. "Real fights. Arguments over big stuff."

"You have no idea what we're even arguing about," Kurt points out.

"I know," Burt says with a shrug. "This was my attempt to get you to tell me."

"Well it failed," Kurt informs him softly, because his dad has been kind of great about Blaine - much better than Kurt was expecting - but he doesn't think they're at the place where he can say, "Blaine is sexually repulsed by me!" without things getting seriously awkward. "How do you even know we're fighting?" Kurt asks, because seriously, it's not like he's being that obvious. And he definitely isn't moping.

"Well, first of all, you've worn the same pants two day in a row," Burt says, and Kurt winces and looks down at his lap. Dammit. He's right. "Plus, Finn told me," Burt adds, like it's not a big deal. Kurt rolls his eyes, because Finn can be the worst gossip he knows sometimes, and Mercedes is his best friend, so that's saying something.

"It's not a big deal," Kurt says with a sigh, slumping back into the cushions because it looks like they're going to discuss this whether he likes it or not.

"He hasn't decided he's into girls again, has he?" Burt asks, narrowing his eyes. "Because I like the kid and all, but he's not gonna jerk you around like that."

"Dad, no," Kurt says, dropping his face into his hands. "Blaine's not cheating on me."

"And he's not pressuring you into anything?" Burt asks, his voice suddenly serious. "Because you know you can tell me, buddy, and I'm not gonna freak out on you." Kurt almost laughs, because little does his dad know, but mostly he's touched at how sincere his dad is being about this, like maybe Kurt actually could tell him about things without it being the end of the world. He's not going to, of course, but knowing that he could is a pretty good feeling.

"It's nothing like that, I promise," Kurt assures him, because, well. It's not. If Blaine won't even let him undo a button, he's pretty sure he doesn't have to worry about sex anytime soon.

"Good," Burt says gruffly, turning back toward the TV. Kurt's about to get up and go to his room, maybe see if Mercedes or Rachel want to go somewhere so he has an excuse to change his clothes, but then Burt stretches his arm out on the back of the sofa and shoots Kurt a look. Kurt suppresses his smile at his dad's particular brand of subtlety and scoots closer on the sofa, resting his head on Burt's shoulder and watching as the truck driver tries to make it over a road that's only two inches wider than his truck.

"Why do you even watch this?" Kurt asks, because seriously.

"It's all the fun and danger of being stupid without actually risking my life," Burt says, grinning at him and squeezing his shoulder. "It's good for my heart. Now shut up and watch, there's a really sharp corner coming up and I don't know how he's gonna make it."

-

"So, I'm sorry," Blaine says, four days after The Button Incident, as Kurt's taken to calling it. He's hovering uncertainly in Kurt's doorway, wringing his hands together and looking at Kurt with stupid, earnest, pleading eyes that absolutely are not going to work on him.

"Hello, Blaine," Kurt says coolly, deciding he needs to have a talk with his dad about letting Blaine in the house when Kurt is mad at him. His dad's fondness for Blaine is almost more annoying than it is sweet. "Are you sure you should be wearing that short-sleeved t-shirt around me? You never know when I might snap and throw you to the bed, savagely robbing you of your virtue."

Blaine doesn't say anything back, just staring at Kurt with a slightly open mouth and far-away eyes, and-- ugh. Right. Blaine had a bad habit of stealing his mom's romance novels, which Kurt finds secretly adorable when he's not annoyed at the way it makes Blaine incapable of sitting through any movie about pirates or farmers or rakish royals without getting flushed and turned on.

"Blaine," he says sharply when Blaine's still looking at him, dazed and a little red. "Considering the fact that a button is too far for you, you might want to hold off on the savage deflowering fantasies, at least in front of me." Blaine shakes his head a little and plops down on Kurt's bed with a groan, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

"Stop that," Kurt says, reflexively reaching for his wrists and pulling his hands away. "You'll give yourself wrinkles."

"I didn't mean to freak out," Blaine says quietly, scooting up and turning to face Kurt.

"I'm not mad about that," Kurt says, because he's not. He's fine with waiting and he doesn't want to rush Blaine. It's just, well-- "I'm mad that you left and didn't talk to me for days," Kurt says before he can filter himself.

"I know," Blaine sighs, laying back against the pillows and scooting closer hesitantly so he can curl a hand around Kurt's waist. "That was stupid of me and I'm sorry, I really am. I was just... embarrassed." His eyes are wide and pleading, and Kurt sighs to himself because he's such a pushover when it comes to Blaine, who is he kidding?

"It's okay," Kurt says, smoothing his thumb over Blaine's eyebrow and cupping Blaine's face before he lets his hand drop. "You don't have to be embarrassed about wanting to wait, I promise."

"It's not even that," Blaine says, cuddling in close as soon as he knows Kurt's not going to push him away. Blaine's kind of an intense cuddler when they're alone like this; he likes to wrap himself around Kurt with arms and legs and cling as close as he can, and there was a time that Kurt never thought he could be comfortable having someone so close, but. Well. Kurt has kind of a lot of Blaine Exceptions, he's finding. He stays quiet, because he's learned that he has to let Blaine think things through before he can say them. If he pushes, Blaine will get flustered and say what he thinks Kurt wants to hear.

"It's just," Blaine says after a minute or so, "I kissed you first. I said I love you first. I keep feeling like it's my job to, you know. Do everything else first."

"Oh Blaine," Kurt says with a smile, squeezing him closer. "You're so stupid."

"Gee, thanks," Blaine says into his shirt. "But does that make sense? I kept putting all this pressure on myself to, like, be suave and confident, but when you kiss me my brain shuts down completely and all I can think about is how I want to keep doing it forever, so... when you took things further I panicked."

"Do you not want to go further?" Kurt asks quietly, trying to stay logical and not jump to conclusions. "Is it me? Do you not want to do it with me?" Well, that didn't work.

"Kurt, no," Blaine says, lifting his face up from Kurt's chest so he can look him in the eye. "That is like the opposite of the problem, believe me. It's just that... I want to do so much, all the time, and I don't want to push you or freak you out and so I end up putting all this pressure on myself and over-thinking things, and just..." Blaine trails off, looking at Kurt kind of helplessly, and Kurt stretches his neck forward and kisses him softly, just enough to hopefully reassure Blaine.

"This is a relatively easy problem to fix," Kurt says, pulling back so he can see Blaine's face. "You don't have to worry about anything, and neither do I. Let's just let things happen and stop worrying unless things go too far."

"And what if they go too far?" Blaine asks quietly.

"Then we just... say so. And no one gets mad or embarrassed. Promise?"

"Promise," Blaine says after a beat, smiling softly at him and reaching up to cup the side of Kurt's face, tracing his thumb over Kurt's cheekbone. Blaine does that a lot, and Kurt kind of loves it. "I really love you," Blaine says quietly, and Kurt can feel himself flush, his stomach swooping madly at the way Blaine's looking at him.

"The feeling's mutual," Kurt says, smiling at him and curling his toes over Blaine's ankle. Kurt needs to change the subject, and quick, before he gives into the urge to just lay here forever and stare into Blaine's eyes and listen to him say 'I love you' over and over again. Blaine would probably indulge him, too. "Now, the big question," Kurt says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out stupid and soft and dreamy. "Do you want to make out with our shirts off or not?"

"God, yes," Blaine says immediately, tilting his head up to kiss Kurt, sudden and frantic and messy, his fingers curling under the hem of Kurt's shirt.

"Uh-uh," Kurt says, batting Blaine's hands away and then pulling back so he can reach for the hem of Blaine's t-shirt. "Me first."

June 14th

"Seriously," Blaine whines low in his throat. "Kurt, how can you not-- don't you-- oh my god, don't stop. Please don't stop."

Kurt grins and keep going, sucking his way up the side of Blaine's neck and nipping behind his ear, lips trailing to that spot that drives Blaine absolutely crazy but does nothing for Kurt. Blaine's panting under him, his hands fisted in the sheets, and Kurt kind of can't get enough of this. He gets it, now - the rush that you get from making someone feel like that, how just knowing that he's the one doing this to Blaine makes him feel as hot and turned on as he does when he's the one being kissed.

"Kurt," Blaine says, breathless and flushed beneath him. "Kurt, can we... shirts? Like last time?" Kurt nods, stripping Blaine out of his shirt so quickly that Blaine's ear gets caught up in it, and then not even bothering to unbutton his own shirt, just pulling it over his head instead.

"Well that was fast," Blaine says with a smirk, but Kurt really doesn't have time for Blaine's smug banter right now because there's so much skin all of a sudden, and they haven't done this nearly enough for Kurt to be used to it yet. There's still so much Kurt wants to do, and he starts by running his fingers over the soft skin of Blaine's stomach, watching the way it dips when Blaine sucks in a sharp breath. It's a little strange, the way his skin is soft and his hair is scratchy and how it makes Kurt's fingers tingle as he trails them up to Blaine's broad chest. Blaine's looking at him, his eyes dark and his mouth hanging open and his body arching up into the press of Kurt's fingers, and everything is just... yes. Kurt gets it now, why this is all anyone seems to think about. He's kind of frozen, his hand splayed across Blaine's chest with his pinky finger just barely brushing over Blaine's nipple, and Kurt wants to move, he does, but he can't look away from Blaine.

"Come here," Blaine says, his voice surprisingly low as he brings his hand to the nape of Kurt's neck and pulls him down, kissing him deep and rougher than Blaine's ever kissed him before. Kurt moans against Blaine's lips, his hips pressing forward on their own before he can stop them, and Blaine groans into his mouth, biting down on Kurt's lip. Kurt's hips buck forward sharply this time, because wow, that was not something he was expecting to like. Hair pulling, yes, and maybe a little light bondage, but he never pictured himself as the type to get off on biting.

"Yeah?" Blaine asks against his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick over the sting left behind by his teeth. "Sorry, I just--"

"No," Kurt says, swallowing heavily. "I mean, yes. That was... that's okay. If you want to do that some more, I mean." He can feel himself blushing but Blaine just groans and goes back for his mouth, his hands settling on Kurt's hips and squeezing tightly as he sucks at Kurt's bottom lip until it feels swollen and oversensitive before scraping his teeth back over it. Kurt's breathing heavy and loud and he makes a noise that sounds more like a sob than a moan as his hips jerk forward again, and he can feel Blaine against him this time, both of them hard through their jeans. All he wants to do is grind down against Blaine and keep moving while Blaine kisses him, but then Blaine's pulling back from him and brushing his hand through Kurt's hair.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

"Yes," Kurt breathes out, the sound almost a whimper. "Yes, why? Why aren't we kissing?"

"Kurt, you're shaking," Blaine says quietly, one of his hands letting go of Kurt's hip to stroke up his spine.

"Oh," Kurt says dumbly, because he hadn't noticed. "It's not bad shaking," he assures Blaine, but now that he has a minute, and now that he's actually breathing and not just thinking more, more, more, he does feel a little overwhelmed. Like his skin is stretched too tightly over his bones or something, and it must show on his face because Blaine takes a shaky breath and scoots up on the bed a little until their hips aren't pressed together. Kurt can think better like this, his head clearer, even though the lower half of his body still aches for more friction.

"Sorry," Blaine says, reaching a hand out for his arm and then seeming to think better of it.

"It's okay," Kurt assures him, moving off of Blaine and lying back against his pillow as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to Blaine's breathing even out.

He's trying to figure out the best way to excuse himself to the bathroom without being too obvious when Blaine takes in a deep, shuddering breath and says, "Okay, so, we have two choices here. I can either jerk off in your house and stay for dinner, or I can drive home and... possibly get arrested for lewd public acts." Kurt's struck with the sudden mental image of Blaine driving merrily down the road, his hand in his pants, and he starts to laugh helplessly, turning to his side so he can press his face against Blaine's arm.

"I'm glad you find my very major dilemma funny," Blaine grumps, and Kurt kisses his bare bicep before pushing up onto his elbows to smile down at Blaine.

"Major dilemma, huh?" Kurt says. "Is that confidence or bravado?" It takes Blaine a second, but then he laughs, loud and harsh, his face flushing red.

"Shut up," he mumbles, rolling his eyes, and Kurt darts in and kisses him softly on the lips, his cock twitching a little when the sore spot on his lip flares back to life at the contact. "Okay," Blaine says shakily, pulling away after a few seconds. "We really have to stop this if you expect me to look your family in the eye later."

"Fine," Kurt says, rolling his eyes right back at Blaine. "I'm assuming you were joking about jerking off in my home, but if you are going to do anything unseemly, use Finn's bathroom," he says as he rolls off of his bed and heads for his own bathroom. "Dibs on mine."

Blaine's still sitting on the edge of the bed, staring after Kurt with wide eyes as Kurt shoots him a wave and closes the door.

June 29th

"Why is it so hot," Kurt groans, throwing his arm over his forehead. He feels like he's baking in the heat of his room, and it doesn't help when Blaine shifts closer and leans over Kurt on the bed, kissing his palm. Sure, his chest flutters at the wet brush of Blaine's lips and all, but mostly he just continues to be hot.

"Why don't you just turn on the AC?" Blaine asks, slumping back down on the bed next to Kurt. "Or steal one of Finn's fans. He has, like, four in his room. I almost blew over last time I was in there playing Madden. I don't know if he's conducting wind experiments or--"

"He snuck the fan out from the basement? That bastard," Kurt hisses. "And you know I'm trying to conserve energy and reduce my carbon footprint this summer, Blaine." Kurt knows Blaine knows, because the first time Kurt told him, Blaine's eyes got all wide and he mumbled something about hot pants that Kurt had ignored for the sake of their relationship.

"How do you justify the time spent in the shower and blow-drying your hair?"

"It all balances out. It's just a matter of picking what I use and don't use."

"Is that why we're lying here in your room, in the dark, in the hot?" Blaine asks, and Kurt smacks at Blaine's side. He would point out that Blaine doesn't have to be spending most of his summer at Kurt's house, but Kurt likes having Blaine over, obviously. When they're not sitting side-by-side and flipping through the new Vogue, or working on songs for Pip Pip Hooray, Blaine really is an excellent kisser.

"No one's forcing you to wear clothes," Kurt says instead, flushing as soon as he realizes what he's said. Blaine sits up, peering down at Kurt, and Kurt tries to hide his face under his forearm where it's still thrown over his eyes.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Blaine asks sweetly, lifting Kurt's arm off his face, and Kurt groans.

"Nothing. I said nothing," Kurt says. He has a steely resolve. Blaine can't break him.

"That's too bad," Blaine sighs. "Because if you had said what I thought you said, I was going to take all my clothes off. But seeing as you didn't..." He lets his sentence trail off, smirking down at Kurt, and dammit. Blaine totally broke him.

"I'm not in charge of your body, you know," Kurt says, trying his best to act like the idea of Blaine naked in his room isn't affecting him even more than the heat.

"Really?" Blaine asks, leaning over him and sliding close. "Because my body says otherwise." It's a horrible line, and Kurt would totally call him on it except that now Blaine's lips are kissing down his jaw and under his chin, trailing wet kisses down his throat.

"It's too hot for this," Kurt tries to protest, but then Blaine licks at the hollow of his throat and makes a deep, growly noise in his throat, and Kurt is scrambling with Blaine's polo, shoving it up his back.

"Even your sweat kind of tastes good," Blaine says as he sits back to shuck it over his head. "Is that weird? That's weird, isn't it?"

"Yes," Kurt says, even though now he's looking curiously at the drop of sweat sliding down Blaine's jaw. "Take your pants off."

"You say such sweet things," Blaine says, but he does it anyway, pushing them off so quickly that he almost falls off the bed in his effort to be rid of them. Kurt pulls his shirt over his head and laughs, not even trying to pretend he's not laughing at Blaine. Kurt kind of loves that about their relationship - that they're past the stage where they're both trying to impress each other, and Kurt has no qualms about pulling Blaine down on top of him, sweaty and flushed in Kurt's bed.

"This isn't going to cool us down, you know," Blaine says softly, and Kurt just rolls his eyes, leaning up to suck at Blaine's jaw because he can't stop thinking about it. And crap, Blaine does taste good like this, his skin shining with sweat and hot where it touches Kurt's, and Kurt just feels intoxicated from all of it, already wanting more.

"It's okay, cooling down is overrated," Kurt breathes, tugging Blaine closer until their mouths meet and Kurt can kiss him, hard and open-mouthed. It really is too hot for this, Kurt feels hot and heavy, almost like everything takes twice as long to happen. Blaine must feel it too because he's kissing Kurt deep and slow, his hands sliding into Kurt's hair and cupping his head, tilting Kurt back where he wants him.

"Blaine," Kurt says against his mouth, and even his voice sounds lazy and slow. He's not sure what he's asking for until Blaine shifts his weight and settles more firmly on top of Kurt and Kurt gasps, his hands scrambling at Blaine's sweaty back to pull him closer. Kurt almost doesn't notice they've started slowly rocking together until Blaine grabs his leg and hitches it up, and then-- fuck.

"Fuck," Blaine hisses against his mouth, his hips starting rock forward faster as he sucks at Kurt's bottom lip. "Can I?" he asks, sliding his hand between them, skimming down Kurt's stomach until he reaches the button of his shorts.

Kurt just nods, not wanting to stop kissing, and lifts his hips up to help Blaine shove his shorts down. Blaine lets go as soon as they're around Kurt's hips, bringing his hand down to press over Kurt's cock through his underwear, and Kurt lets out a sharp, embarrassing whine and bucks up against Blaine's hand. Blaine just squeezes at him for a second, breathing out harsh and rough against Kurt's mouth, his hand hot and damp through Kurt's underwear, and Kurt just wants him closer, wants Blaine's hand on him, wants more.

"Okay?" Blaine asks, his voice low and rough in a new way that makes heat curl in Kurt's stomach, his fingers slipping under the waistband of Kurt's underwear.

"Please," Kurt says, his hips pressing up against Blaine's hand, and then Blaine's sliding his hand inside of Kurt's underwear, his fingers wrapping around Kurt's cock, and it's pretty much the best moment of Kurt's life. Until it swiftly turns into the worst.

"Kurt, I got off work early so I swung by and picked up your dry cleaning, and-- oh my god," Carole says from the doorway. Kurt hears his dry cleaning bags hit the floor with a crinkle and then Blaine is springing off of him, falling to the floor and grabbing a pillow to hold over himself. Kurt can't seem to open his eyes, but he reaches down as casually as he can to make sure he's not actually flashing his step-mother.

No one says anything for a long, tense minute that feels like an hour, and then Carole starts giggling helplessly.

"It was hot!" Blaine says suddenly, voice strained. "I'm so sorry, it was just, it was hot and--"

"Yes, I'm sure it was," Carole says, slapping her hand over her mouth as soon as she's said it.

"Not like that. Not like that! Hot temperature-wise, not that Kurt was hot, oh god."

"That helps," Kurt says, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Sure, insult me."

"Kurt, that's not what I meant!" Blaine says desperately, and Kurt blinks his eyes open just in time to see Carole toss Blaine's shirt and pants to him and turn her back.

"You go on and get dressed, okay, Blaine?" Carole says. "I want to talk with Kurt for a minute."

Kurt's stomach turns over in an entirely different and unpleasant way at her words, and he reaches for his shirt while throwing a helpless look at Blaine.

"Sorry," Blaine mouths, darting close to the bed and kissing Kurt's ankle because it's the closest thing to him on his way to the door.

"You do not leave," Kurt says tightly as he slips his shirt back on. "Blaine, I swear to god, you do not leave this house."

"Don't worry," Carole says as Blaine slips past her through the door. "Your dad will be home in a few minutes, and I know he was anxious to talk to Blaine about his fantasy draft picks."

"Wonderful," Kurt groans, rolling his eyes. "I get my second sex talk in a year while Blaine talks football with my dad. You do realize he had his hand down my pants and not the other way around, right?"

"Kurt, do you really want to discuss the particulars right now?" Carole asks, shutting the door with a sigh.

"No. Oh god, no," Kurt says, feeling his face flush even hotter when he realizes what he said.

"Unless you... need to?" Carole asks, taking a hesitant step toward the bed.

"No," Kurt says quickly. "No, no. Dad gave me some pamphlets. I'm good to go. Not, I mean, to go," he says, at Carole's widened eyes. "I'm not going. Anywhere. Blaine and I are... in park."

"Really?" Carole asks, a smile tugging at her mouth. "Because that looked like at least 15 in a residential."

"Can we stop talking in driving metaphors?" Kurt asks desperately. "We're not having sex."

"You can be honest with me, honey," Carole says softly, sitting hesitantly at the foot of his bed. "I won't tell your dad, just as long as you promise you're being safe."

"You'd do that?" Kurt asks, even though that's not what he meant to say.

"Kurt," Carole says, patting his knee, "if there's anything I learned from the whole Quinn Fabray debacle, it's that pretty much all you can do is your best to teach your kids not to be stupid."

"Carole," Kurt says, "I promise I won't get Blaine pregnant." Carole laughs brightly before catching herself and schooling her face back into what Kurt's come to think of Mom Mode. It's kind of nice, knowing that Carole has a Mom Mode, and that she uses it on Kurt just like she does on Finn.

"Pregnancy's not the only danger, you know that," Carole says. "I don't want both of my boys thinking with things besides their brains and getting into trouble." She looks hesitant, and it takes Kurt a second to realize why. She'd said both of her boys. Finn and Kurt, now. Kurt's chest tightens and he smiles, dropping his hand on top of hers and squeezing it softly.

"I know," he says. "Blaine and I really aren't having sex, I promise. Neither of us are ready yet, and that was the first time we've... I mean. You know," he finishes awkwardly, and Carole nods a little to herself.

"Okay," she says. "How about next weekend we go shopping, just the two of us, and you can help me pick out a dress for your cousin's wedding? You don't tell your dad about the price tag and I don't tell him about this, sound fair?"

"More than fair," Kurt breathes out shakily, leaning forward impulsively and hugging Carole tightly. "Thanks," he says quietly, closing his eyes and breathing her in. She doesn't smell anything like his mom used to, nothing like the fading scent in her old dresser, but she smells like home. Like her perfume, the laundry detergent they use, his dad's shampoo. It's nice, Kurt thinks, pulling back and smiling at her.

"Just remember," Carole says, her voice strangely serious. "Don't ever hesitate to come to me if you need to. And don't count your dad out either. He's not as bad at all this stuff as you might think. I can give you references." She says the last bit with a grin, and by the time Kurt's come back from the blinding horror that thought induced, she's already heading for the door.

"Hurry down," she calls over her shoulder. "Your dad's truck just pulled up and I don't want Blaine to puke on the carpet because Burt looks at him sideways." Kurt almost defends him, but. Well. Blaine doesn't really handle pressure well. Maybe he'd better go straighten his dry cleaning out and head downstairs.

July 4th

"Boys, girls, and Puckermans alike," Santana proclaims loudly, brandishing a hot dog on a skewer in one hand and sparklers in the other, "We's abouts to get our patriotic party on!"

Brittany whoops while Puck makes a face behind Santana's back, and Mike does an impressively athletic cannonball into the pool, spraying Tina and Mercedes with water where they're sprawled out on the deck chairs. Kurt rolls his eyes and reaches back for Blaine's hand, only to find the space behind him empty. He turns to look and sees Blaine being held by his ankles by Finn and Sam over the keg Puck had somehow acquired.

"No," he shouts, loud enough to make Finn startle and almost drop him. "No. Blaine does not get any beer."

"I don't?" Blaine asks sadly, still upside down.

"He's afraid you'll get drunk and make out with me again!" Rachel yells from across the yard. "He knows you can't resist this." Rachel has already had three wine coolers and a sip of something from Santana's cup that made her wrinkle her nose up.

"Kuuurt," Blaine says. "I promise not to make out with anyone but you if you let me do a keg stand."

"No," Kurt says. "Now put him down." The last part is directed at Finn and Sam, and Finn at least seems to recognize Kurt's 'I mean business' tone by now, so they lower Blaine back to the ground, where he slinks sadly back to Kurt's side.

"C'mon," he says into Kurt's ear. "I don't want anyone else but you."

"Oh, I know," Kurt says, patting him on the shoulder and leading him over to the rather impressive spread of booze Santana had produced for the gathering. "It's just that beer is so plebeian, and I have no desire to taste it all night when I decide to make out with you."

-

"You are going to set yourself on fire," Kurt laughs as Blaine chases him around with a sparkler. "All that gel in your hair, you'll go up like a-- like a stack of newspapers."

"You're not being festive!" Santana shouts from her raft in the pool. She and Brittany are lying on opposite ends with their legs tangled together, and Kurt sincerely hopes they put on sunblock or they're going to end up with awful tan lines.

"Get yo America on!" Artie shouts at him as he ducks around Quinn's deck chair and narrowly avoids Blaine's grasping fingers. He hears a thump behind him and looks back to find Blaine sprawled on the ground, Quinn's foot still stuck out.

"Oops!" she says, winking at Kurt.

"Make a break for it, bro!" Finn shouts as Puck helps Blaine up and hands him another sparkler.

"Don't let him catch you alive!" Lauren seconds. She's got an inflatable panda raft perched on her head, and Kurt doesn't even want to think about how much of Puck and Lauren's special brand of PDA he's going to have to witness later if she's already that drunk. Blaine grins and starts for him, waving his sparkler in the air, and Kurt yelps and starts off running through the tall grass in the field behind Santana's house.

"You can do it, Kurt!" Finn yells. "Your legs are like twice as long as his!"

'Hey!" Blaine yells from behind him, and Kurt laughs over his shoulder as he runs, the grass tickling his knees where the skin is bare between his shorts and his boots. Kurt knows, logically, that he can't have gone very far because he can still hear Mike and Tina splashing in the pool and Puck drunkenly singing Uptown Girl, but he feels breathless and a little dizzy and he's had just enough rum and pineapples that he decides, just this once, to let Blaine catch him.

"A-ha!" Blaine says victoriously as Kurt slows down enough for him to wrap his arms around Kurt's waist. His sparkler is long dead, but Blaine's still holding onto the metal stick and Kurt plucks it out of his hand, tossing it over his shoulder so Blaine doesn't smear soot on his clothes.

"Littering isn't very patriotic," Blaine mumbles against his neck, and Kurt turns in his arms, smirking. "Neither are the things I'm about to do to you, though," he continues pulling Kurt back against his body and sinking down into the grass.

"Blaine!" Kurt yelps. "We're on the ground."

"I know," Blaine says, turning him around slowly so he's straddling Blaine's waist. "But I did catch you and everything. I'm pretty sure that means I get to do whatever I want with you."

"I'm not familiar with these rules," Kurt smirks, but he leans down to kiss Blaine anyway, letting his hands slide under Blaine's head to cushion it against the ground. Blaine makes a happy noise low in his throat and slides his hands up Kurt's thighs to his hips, squeezing tight and pushing him down a little. Blaine's already hard, and Kurt starts to rock his hips, gently, just enough for Blaine to feel it.

"Kurt," Blaine gasps out, his hands gripping tight at Kurt's hips. "Fuck, you can't... don't do that if you can't follow through," he groans breathlessly, his body arching up under Kurt's and his head thrown back, pressing against Kurt's palms. His eyelashes are long and golden in the sun, sweat beading on his forehead, and Kurt can feel the ground, rough and gritty beneath his knees, and all of a sudden everything seems to fade away except for Blaine.

Kurt leans down to kiss Blaine deep and rough. "I can," he mumbles against his mouth. "I want to follow through," and he does. Right now he doesn't want anything else except to keep going, to strip Blaine out of his hideous cargo shorts and t-shirt and lay him out in the tall, itchy grass and do everything.

"Don't do it!" Puck screams loudly, making Kurt jump and almost fall off of Blaine's lap. "Outside sex is dangerous, I got poison ivy all over my junk once!"

"Thank you ever so much, Puckerman," Kurt yells over his shoulder. "If the interruption didn't ruin the mood in the first place, the idea of your junk certainly would have done it." Kurt rolls his eyes down at Blaine, leaning back over Blaine and resting his forehead against Blaine's with a sigh.

"It's okay," Blaine says, rubbing at the small of his back. "If Santana realized what was going on she probably would have come over and offered color commentary."

"I definitely do not want Santana to have any part in the loss of my virginity," Kurt agrees.

"Shh," Blaine says, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and pulling him closer. "She'll hear you."

July 15th

"Thanks again for letting me come along!" Rachel says excitedly, bouncing along in front of them as they head through Playhouse Square.

"How could we refuse when you specifically purchased a ticket right next to our seats?" Kurt mumbles, shooting a glare at Blaine when he pushes Kurt's shoulder. They had been planning to go see Les Mis in Cleveland for months. Kurt was so excited - he bought their tickets well in advance and it was supposed to be the perfect date night. That is, it was until he made the mistake of mentioning it to Rachel the last time he and Mercedes had been to her house for a sleepover. He still doesn't know how Rachel found out which seats they'd gotten, though he strongly suspects Finn had something to do with it. She had somehow managed to get a seat right next to theirs and now everything was ruined.

"Everything is ruined," Kurt sighs, stepping closer to Blaine and biting back a grin when Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt's waist automatically.

"Nothing is ruined," Blaine assures him, turning his head and kissing Kurt's cheek. "Besides, this can still be fun. We had fun at dinner, right?"

"A little bit," Kurt says, because he doesn't want to stop pouting just yet. It really had been fun, though. They'd taken Kurt's Navigator and Kurt and Rachel had spent the three hour drive trading off on increasingly dramatic renditions of On My Own until Blaine forced them to stop so he could sing I Dreamed a Dream with Rachel and The Confrontation with Kurt. Kurt had made them reservations at Star, which was right next to the theater and fancy enough that he felt justified in wearing his best suit, but the addition of Rachel meant they'd ended up piled into a corner booth at Olive Garden. Which actually wasn't horrible, because Kurt and Rachel split bottomless salad and soup while Blaine ate what looked like an entire cow, and their waiter was hot and gave them extra mints when Rachel flirted with him (Blaine and Kurt egged her on and she made them promise not to tell Finn), so Kurt can't really complain. Besides, Blaine had serenaded them in actual Italian, and Kurt had been so smitten that he didn't even throw a fit when the couple next to them assumed he was singing to his girlfriend and told Blaine and Rachel what a cute couple they made.

They get to the doors and Kurt's busy getting their tickets out of his jacket pocket when Blaine suddenly tugs on his elbow and pulls him close, kissing him softly. "Blaine!" Kurt yelps, looking around quickly where people are walking past them.

"Sorry," Blaine says with a grin. "I just had to do that because you're cute when pout." Kurt rolls his eyes, but he darts in and pecks Blaine on the lips, ignoring Rachel's loud Awww and holding the door open for both of them.

-

"See?" Blaine says once they've taken their seats. Kurt had gotten their tickets early, which meant they had awesome seats, right in the center of the dress circle and five rows back. He still doesn't know how Rachel managed to snag one so late in the game. He wouldn't put it past her to resort to bribery. "This is fun."

"The show hasn't even started yet," Kurt says, rolling his eyes. He's sitting in the middle, between Blaine and Rachel, and at least he can count on both of them having excellent theater etiquette. He's still scarred from the time he had convinced his whole family to see a local production of Assassins and Carole had repeatedly passed Finn hard candies that not only crinkled loudly when he opened them but crunched when he bit down onto them three seconds later. It was almost as annoying as his dad asking him constant questions about what the hell was going on.

"Doesn't mean it's not fun," Blaine says, taking Kurt's hand and bringing it up to his face, running his lips softly over the back of Kurt's knuckles. "Did I mention," Blaine says, just loudly enough for him to hear, "that you look incredible tonight?"

"Once or twice," Kurt tells him, his chest fluttering at the compliment. "But feel free to say it again."

"You look incredible tonight," Blaine says, grinning at him.

"You'll do too, I suppose," Kurt says, looking Blaine over. He looks amazing, of course, because Blaine knows how to wear a suit and Kurt had convinced him to ease up on the gel so his hair is in well-formed curls and his eyes are sparkling under the lights, and Kurt just wants to stand up and point out to the entire theater that Blaine is his boyfriend.

"Watch it," Blaine says, leaning closer so he can speak into Kurt's ear. "You keep sweet talking me like that and I'm going to have to drag you off into the prop closet during intermission. Wes interned here one summer and informed us the lock never catches and no one ever actually goes in there."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Kurt says, his heart speeding up as Blaine's breath tickles over his ear. Maybe tonight will work out after all, especially if Blaine keeps holding his hand and saying things like this into his--

"Kurt," Rachel says loudly, poking him in the arm. "Kurt, you're not listening."

"No," Kurt says truthfully, not turning away from Blaine. "I'm not."

"Be nice," Blaine says, nipping at his earlobe before pulling back and sitting there like he didn't just totally play dirty. Kurt shoots him a glare and then turns to Rachel, plastering on his very best smile.

"Yes, Rachel?" he asks.

"We need to switch seats."

"What? No we don't."

"Yes we do," she says, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can't see over the person in front of me, he's tall and his hair is even bigger than yours."

"Switch with Blaine," Kurt says, because dammit, he is going to hold his boyfriend's hand while they watch Les Mis and Rachel is just going to have to deal with that.

"There's someone tall in front of him too," Rachel says, pointing, and dammit. She's right.

"And yet you don't see him complaining," Kurt points out.

"Kurt, please?" Rachel begs. "You know how I feel about Les Mis, it's like Cosette was based on me."

"Rachel, that book was written in 1862," Kurt huffs. "Just shut up and let me tell Blaine."

"You're the best, Kurt!" Rachel says, smiling brightly at him and kissing his cheek.

"I hate everything," Kurt mumbles, turning to Blaine and slumping his head onto Blaine's shoulder.

"Well I love that you're such a gentleman," Blaine says softly, kissing his forehead.

"At least one of us does," Kurt sighs, getting up and letting Rachel slip into his seat.

-

"I'm so glad that's over," Kurt sighs the minute Rachel hops out of the backseat with a wave and heads up her driveway.

"Oh hush," Blaine says. "Don't pretend you didn't hold her hand and cry during Castle on a Cloud."

"That song is beautiful and was very movingly performed," Kurt says, pulling out once Rachel's safely inside. "Besides, I thought you two were going to collapse on each other sobbing during Empty Chairs at Empty Tables."

"I'm not ashamed of my emotions," Blaine says, yawning halfway through. "I'm so glad your dad agreed to let me crash at your place instead of having to drive home so late."

"He's kind of a sucker sometimes," Kurt says, smiling over at Blaine where he's turned in his seat, his knees drawn up against his chest. Kurt would yell at him for scuffing the leather seats, but Blaine's got his shoes off and he looks pretty adorable, so Kurt lets it slide.

"The best part is," Kurt says as he hits the garage door opener and pulls into his driveway. "My dad and Carole never stay up past 11, which means we can get in some quality couch make outs before you go to bed."

"Living dangerously, huh?" Blaine says, sitting up and stretching with a groan, slipping his shoes back on once they're parked in the garage.

"There's no danger to it when I'll be able to hear either of them get up and pretend I was just saying goodnight," Kurt grins at him, hopping out of the car and locking the doors once Blaine's out. Blaine walks around the front of the car and steps in close, pressing Kurt up against the driver's side door.

"Are you that committed to making out with me?" he asks, giving Kurt a dark, promising look that sends heat straight to his stomach in a way Kurt will never, ever get tired of.

"I have nothing better to do," Kurt says with a shrug, laughing as Blaine leans in and attacks his neck, biting and nipping. "Stop!" he says, pushing Blaine back. "I'm going to get road dust all over my suit, come on. Inside. Then we can get to the making out."

"Fine," Blaine pouts, stepping back so Kurt can head for the door. He moves in close as Kurt's undoing the lock, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and pressing little kisses to the back of his neck that make Kurt shiver. "See?" he says. "Tonight didn't turn out so bad after all."

"It had its moments," Kurt says as he opens the door. "And it's about to get even better just as soon as we get to the-- dad!"

"Huh?" Blaine asks, but Kurt swiftly kicks out and catches Blaine in the shin so he'll shut up because Burt and Carole are sitting at the kitchen table, playing scrabble.

"What are you still doing up?" Kurt asks, rubbing at his collar to make sure it's not messed up from Blaine. "It's past one!"

"We just thought we'd make sure you kids got home safe," Carole says sweetly, placing tiles on the board and pumping her fist when she gets a double word score.

"How was the show?" Burt asks, looking them over once before turning back to the board.

"It was wonderful, sir!" Blaine says from behind Kurt, entirely too loud.

"... Good," Burt says, giving Blaine an odd look. "Why don't you two go get ready for bed so we can all say goodnight and go to our respective beds, huh?"

"Dad," Kurt hisses as Carole chokes back a laugh.

"Oh hey, look at that!" Burt says, placing his tiles down. "Authority! And a triple word score, too, I am on fire tonight."

-

"I cannot believe him," Kurt fumes as they stomp up the steps. "It's a good thing your clothes are in my room or he'd have probably tried to make you change in the downstairs bathroom."

"Kurt," Blaine says softly once they step into his room. "It's okay."

"It's not," Kurt says. His voice is whiny and he knows he's being ridiculous, but he's just so tired of not having time alone with Blaine when all he wants to do is kiss him and touch him and never stop. Kurt doesn't think he's asking for a lot.

"Hey," Blaine says, pulling him close. "Shh." He takes Kurt's tie off with practiced ease, laying it over the end of Kurt's bed and then sliding Kurt's jacket down his arms. "You get your shirt," he says. "Your buttons are frustratingly tiny." Kurt laughs, rolling his eyes and working at his buttons. Blaine maybe has a point, because by the time he's halfway done Blaine's already out of his suit and into his pajama pants, and Kurt would be disappointed about missing it, but Blaine's still shirtless, his skin smooth and tan in the soft light of Kurt's bedroom.

"Well hello there," Kurt says a little breathlessly, finally finishing with his buttons and sliding his shirt off, folding it carefully. Blaine's suit is on a heap on the floor and Kurt sighs, reaching for it, but Blaine stops him, grabbing at Kurt's arm and pulling him back upright.

"If you think I'm not taking advantage of you shirtless, you're crazy," Blaine whispers before pulling Kurt in close and kissing him deep and slow, his hands sliding up Kurt's spine and over his shoulder blades. Kurt hums against his mouth happily because he's still not over the way it feels to have Blaine touch him, his hands solid and warm and a little rougher than Kurt's in a nice way - a way that makes heat curl up warm and heavy in his stomach. Blaine keeps pressing him closer and closer, molding them together until Kurt can feel the hair on Blaine's chest and lower stomach scratch against his skin as Blaine breathes. Kurt can feel himself getting hard, his breathing speeding up and his face starting to flush, and they really should stop this before his dad comes up to see what's taking so long. Kurt's trying to work up the resolve to pull back when something drops to the floor with a thunk outside of his room.

"Dudes," Finn says. "Come on." Blaine jumps back guiltily, scrambling for his shirt, and Kurt rolls his eyes at him before turning on his heel to glare at Finn.

"Why are you lurking around outside my door, you great big creeper?" Kurt snaps.

"Uh, I was walking down the hallway to my room," Finn says, bending down to pick up his dropped water bottle. "You're the one having an orgy with your door open."

"Do you even know what orgy means?" Kurt asks, ignoring Blaine snickering behind him. "Because I don't think you do."

"I know that I don't need to see my brother making out with people," Finn says.

"Oh, that's rich coming from you," Kurt laughs. "If I had a nickel for every time I've had to watch you and Rachel maul each other like horny bears--"

"You'd have, like... not a lot of nickels," Finn says, clearly intending to come up with an actual figure and failing.

"Boys," Carole says from the head of the steps. "Everything okay?"

Kurt glares at Finn with everything he has, trying to convey, I will kill you with my hands if you sell me out.

"I was just saying goodnight," Finn says, turning to grin at his mom. "So... goodnight," he says, turning back to Kurt and making a face at him before heading for his room.

"Goodnight, honey!" Carole calls after him before poking her head into Kurt's door. "Just a heads up, your dad is not leaving that table until Blaine is on the couch," she says, winking at them.

"I know," Kurt sighs, blushing when he suddenly realizes he's standing there shirtless in front of Carole. "I'm going to finish getting dressed while Blaine brushes his teeth, and then we'll be right down," he says, desperately trying to resist the urge to cover himself with his hands. He hasn't quite gotten over the embarrassing memory of Carole walking in on them a few weeks ago.

"Sounds like a plan," Carole says, smiling at them both. "And just in case you get any ideas, he has an alarm set on his phone to go downstairs and check that Blaine's on the couch during the night. If anyone asks, you did not get this information from me."

"Of course he does," Kurt sighs. "Thank you, Carole," Kurt says, glad when she just rubs his shoulder instead of giving him a hug because he still feels awkward without a shirt on.

"Goodnight, Kurt," Carole says with a soft smile, and Kurt echoes it back, shooing Blaine to the bathroom as soon as Carole turns and heads back down the steps.

-

It's 2:33 A.M. when Kurt's phone buzzes with a new text. He still hasn't fallen asleep and Kurt's completely unsurprised when he sees who the text is from.

Being just downstairs from you is torture, Blaine sends. Kurt smiles softly to himself and types out a reply, squinting at the bright screen in the dark of his room.

I know, I can't sleep just thinking about it. I'd try to sneak down but knowing my dad he has booby traps set up.

Courage, Blaine texts, and Kurt groans and just sends back, No.

Blaine's reply comes less than a minute later. I can't stop thinking about kissing you. That and other things. Kurt raises his eyebrow, grinning down at his phone. He knows they're just torturing themselves, but he can't resist asking.

Oh really? Like what?

I really really want to blow you, its kind of all i think about lately but only because i won't let myself think of other things. Kurt groans and squeezes his legs together under the covers, determined not to get hard. As tempting as it is, having phone sex is still a really dumb idea when someone might hear them. His phone buzzes again while Kurt's trying to gather up the willpower to tell Blaine to go to bed. Kurt? Was that too far?

No, Kurt types quickly, hitting send so Blaine won't talk himself into a panic. It's just a bad idea to get ourselves worked up right now but me too. Tell me what things you won't let yourself think about & then we'll both go to sleep so it can be 2morrow sooner, Kurt types out. Blaine's reply comes quickly, and Kurt sucks in a harsh breath as he reads it.

I don't let myself think about having sex with you because then i won't be able to stop thinking about it. Kurt stares at his screen for a minute or two, breathing quickly, before he thinks up a reply.

Probably a good idea but you're not alone in those thoughts. Now go to bed. I <3 you, Kurt sends, following it with a text that says, Courage, just because he can.

His phone buzzes twice when Blaine sends him, I hate you, and then, a few seconds later, But i love you too. goodnight. Kurt smiles to himself, feeling warm and happy even though he'd much rather have Blaine in his bed. He thinks about Blaine's texts, how Blaine wants to go further just as much as Kurt does, and Kurt only feels a little guilty when he slides his hands inside of his pajama pants and starts to jerk off. Blaine started it, and what he doesn't know won't hurt him, anyway.

-

Kurt gets up early the next morning (well, 9 A.M., but in Finn-time 9 A.M. might as well be the crack of dawn) to make breakfast because he wants to make it up to Blaine and he admittedly just enjoys showing off his cooking skills. Burt gets up around 10:30 to go into work, ruffling Kurt's hair and taking his whole-wheat waffles and coffee with him, and Kurt spends another hour humming quietly to himself in the kitchen before he's done cooking enough food that Finn will be able to eat too when he wakes up, though probably not until 3 P.M., knowing Finn.

Kurt slides the waffles into the oven to keep warm and washes his hands before moving into the living room to his sleeping lump of a boyfriend, curled up on the couch. Kurt ducks down to kiss Blaine on the forehead, carefully brushing a curl off of Blaine's face, but then he yelps and jumps back when Blaine's hand flies out and smacks Kurt in the stomach.

"Blaine," Kurt hisses, rubbing at his stomach as Blaine blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting up at Kurt before his eyebrows go up.

"Oh," Blaine says sheepishly, sitting up and yawning. "'m sorry."

"That could've been a moment, honey, and you ruined it," Kurt says, patting Blaine's cheek, but Blaine just turns his head into Kurt's hand and nuzzles at him sleepily.

"You could've been a serial killer. I was just defending myself. Do I smell waffles?"

"Almond-vanilla waffles!" Kurt says excitedly, bouncing a little next to the couch. "I tried a new recipe and they came out perfectly. How hungry are you?"

"Mmm, starving," Blaine says softly, letting Kurt pull him up off of the couch and immediately leaning in to press his mouth to Kurt's. Blaine tastes like stale mint toothpaste but Kurt must still taste like the waffle he had dutifully eaten to make sure they tasted right, because Blaine's tongue slides across Kurt's lips, trying to lick into his mouth for more. Kurt moans softly and opens his mouth and the heat is just starting to unfurl low in his stomach when Blaine jumps back, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Your dad," Blaine hisses when Kurt gives him a look, and Kurt just rolls his eyes, tugging Blaine into the kitchen.

"He's at work, Blaine, calm down."

"My concerns are perfectly valid," Blaine mumbles defensively as Kurt gets out plates and silverware for them, dropping them in Blaine's arms so he can get the plate of waffles from the oven. "I had this creepy feeling like he was watching me while I was sleeping."

"Oh," Kurt says, biting back a grin, "that's probably because he was. At least, he planned to check in on you to make sure you were still on the couch. I don't know if he actually did."

"I knew it," Blaine says smugly, following Kurt to the kitchen table.

"Knew what?" Carole asks, walking into the kitchen and going to the fridge to pull out the orange juice. "Kurt, honey, did you do all this?"

"It was nothing," Kurt says quickly, elbowing Blaine and feeling a little proud when Blaine automatically understands what he means and gets up to grab another plate and fork. "Would you like some? I made plenty just in case--"

"My vacuum of a son wakes up and wants some? You're wonderful, Kurt," Carole says warmly, hugging him around the shoulders and sitting down at the table with them. "You two don't mind if I join you, do you?"

"We'd be honored," Blaine says, and Kurt has to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Kurt watches Blaine start to drown his waffles in syrup and then Kurt jumps up, saying, "Oh, I almost forgot! Hold on." He got so bored waiting before Blaine woke up that he made a batch of homemade whipped cream to eat with the waffles. (Okay, so it was more showing off than anything. Kurt was allowed.) He spoons some on top of Blaine's waffles and his own, holding the bowl out to Carole when he's finished.

"You made this, Kurt? How long have you been up?" Blaine asks, and Kurt feels an incredibly weird flutter in his chest that Blaine waited until after he swallowed a bite of his waffle to ask.

"It's noon, Blaine. I've only been up since 9."

"You say 'only' like waking up at 9 isn't super weird and pointless," Finn says, sitting down at the table and stretching. "What's all this?"

"Kurt made breakfast," Carole says, patting Finn's arm. "Go get yourself a plate and say thank you."

"Dude, this is awesome," Finn tells Kurt, ruffling his hair when he walks past Kurt even though Kurt has threatened Finn's life before for doing that. "You never make waffles or pancakes when I ask you to. Blaine should stay over every night."

"I would be okay with that," Blaine pipes up before glancing over at Carole and shutting his mouth.

"Oh hey, where's that stuff?" Finn asks, snapping his fingers as he looks around the kitchen and then reaching easily on top of the fridge and grabbing the container of Nutella.

"Finn, Kurt made homemade whipped cream for the waffles," Carole says as Finn grabs a butter knife and sits back down.

"Awesome," Finn says, reaching his hand toward the bowl, and Carole and Kurt each slap his hand from a different side.

"Utensils, Finn," Kurt says.

"Right," Finn says, unfazed, dipping his butter knife into the whipped cream and ignoring the spoon already resting in it. He sucks it off of the knife and then dips his knife into the Nutella, smearing a giant glob all over his waffle before dipping his knife back in and sticking it directly into his mouth. Kurt wishes any of this was surprising.

"Wow, you really like Nutella, huh?" Blaine asks.

"Totally," Finn says around a mouthful.

"I accidentally introduced him to Nutella," Kurt says, looking gratefully at Carole when she stops Finn from sticking his knife back into the bowl of whipped cream and instead spoons some onto his waffles for him. "He thought it was French health food before, but he's changed his mind. Obviously."

"You have changed Finn for the better in many, many ways, Kurt, but this is not one of them," Carole says, taking the jar of Nutella away from Finn when he tries to get more.

"Don't listen to her, man, you changed my life," Finn says, taking a giant bite of Nutella-covered waffle.

"He's good at that," Blaine says, smiling softly at Kurt before blushing and looking down at his plate. Kurt grins happily to himself, taking another bite of his waffle and finding Blaine's foot under the table, brushing their bare toes together.

Link to Part 2