In Which Kurt Gets Kidnapped (Part II)

[blog_of_cool]

PREVIOUS PART 
Kurt was disconcertingly quiet on the ride over to his house. It wasn't just that he wasn't making conversation or singing along with the radio, which, hey, whatever; he was the kind of quiet that made you wonder if the person was still even there. Blaine didn't like it. Kurt was a naturally loud person. This quietness was unnatural, and worrying.

"We're here," Blaine said quietly, turning off the car. Kurt got out of the car, seemingly on autopilot. When he'd talked to Mercedes on the phone, he'd gotten some of his life back in him, but after he'd hung up, he'd faded back away. Blaine followed him up the steps and into the house, making sure to lock the door behind them, although the Hudmels generally didn't. Anthony had a (not precisely legally acquired) key, and there was no sense in taking chances.

Kurt didn't look at Blaine, just made a beeline for his room. Blaine followed. Sometimes it seemed like that was all he would be doing for the rest of his life, following Kurt.

“Kurt?” Blaine addressed him carefully. Kurt stopped near his bed, but didn’t turn around. Blaine moved so as to be in front of Kurt. “I think we need to talk,” Blaine said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. What if -

Kurt shook his head, almost violently. Blaine could tell he was trying to hold back tears. “As if there’s a point,” Kurt said, his voice a hollow echo of disdain. Finally, he looked at Blaine. “As if it would change anything.” Blaine started to reach out for him again, but Kurt took a step back. “How is this supposed to work, Blaine?” Kurt demanded. “You’re practically a mob boss. And I’m sixteen-And you, you’re planning the rest of our lives together, and sometimes it’s like I don’t even mind.” Kurt raised his hands up almost defensively as Blaine unconsciously moved in closer. “How am I supposed to deal with this?” His voice broke, just a little. “How am I supposed to deal with being this in love with you?”

Blaine was suddenly, irrationally, angry. Moving closer to Kurt again, he grabbed Kurt’s hand before he could pull away. “Feel that?” Blaine demanded, holding Kurt’s hand above his heart. “Do you see what you do to me, Kurt? God, I’m only seventeen-how am I supposed to deal with knowing that I would do anything for you?” Blaine dropped Kurt’s hand and moved back, running his fingers through his hair distractedly. “How am I supposed to deal with knowing I’ve met the love of my life? That no matter what happens, no matter what you decide, you’re always going to be the one for me?” He looked at Kurt again, eyes intense. “How am I supposed to deal with that, Kurt?”

Across the room from Blaine, Kurt was crying, soundlessly; no sobs, just tears. The next thing Blaine knew, Kurt was kissing him. This wasn’t one of their usual sweet kisses, stolen in quiet moments and at the end of the night. This was violent and desperate and Blaine could taste the salt of Kurt’s tears.

It was perfect.

Just as quick as the kiss started, it was over. Kurt pulled back -- no, because that would mean he was still where Blaine could reach him. He had pulled away, moving back over to the other side of the room like he was reeling from a punch.

To be fair, if the kiss had felt the same way for him as it had for Blaine, comparing it to a punch would be just about right. It had left the older boy short of breath, slightly dizzy, and had sent a level of adrenaline in to his veins that he could only compare to the high of his best performance. Of course, thinking of his best performance brought him back to Kurt, because serenading the "spy" had been the first moment that he could remember just letting go and having fun while singing.

Who was he even trying to kid? It had nothing to do with how he sang, and everything to do with who he had been singing for that made the difference. Everything in his life looped around to include Kurt, no matter how hard he fought it. Folding his socks brought him back to Kurt (imagining Kurt's insistence on doing his own laundry, despite having a maid), buying dental floss brought him back to Kurt (a blink-and-you'll-miss-it flash forward of Blaine's cool spearmint resting on the counter next to Kurt's wild cinnamon). If he could find something that didn't bring him back to Kurt, he'd be shocked. He'd also probably be a little sad, because he loved that he could connect everything in his life now to what his life would be like later, when he and Kurt--.

Which was the whole problem, apparently. No, not apparently. It was a problem. It was a problem, because Kurt clearly didn't want Blaine planning where their dental floss would sit, or how their laundry was going to get done, and who could blame him? It was insane to think that two teenagers could know what they would want two months down the road, nonetheless two years. To think that they knew not only what the world would throw at them, but that no matter what it was, they would make it out together? It was stupid at best, tempting fate at the worst.

Blaine sighed softly, looking up from where he had been studying his shoes as he gathered his thoughts. He watched as Kurt paced back and forth in front of his vanity, arguing to himself about "free will", and "no choice in the matter", and "this isn't Ella fucking Enchanted, she can't just say 'Marry my son' and expect me to just do it, no questions asked". Blaine smiled slightly, using Kurt's ranting to walk over to that side of the room undetected, catching the other boy's elbow gently when he got close enough.

"Hey," he said softly, rubbing his thumb along the inside of Kurt's elbow in the hopes of calming him down. "Breathe, okay? Just...I don't want to say 'Calm down', because that'd be extremely patronizing, but I'm thinking it pretty hard." He watched Kurt for a second, waiting for some of the red to fade out of the boy's face before pulling him closer and wrapping his arms around him gently.

"You have a choice in all of this, Kurt," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Just because my mom...Anyways, that's not binding, or anything. Nobody's going to hate you for not wanting this...Or for not wanting me..." He added, biting his lip after. He didn't want to, and it stung every inch of his heart to do it, but he had to do it. He had to give Kurt the chance to figure out that maybe he wasn't really in love with Blaine, that maybe what he felt was puppy love mixed with danger mixed with a nice dose of "too much, too soon". He closed his eyes, bracing himself to hear Kurt suddenly realize that Blaine was right, he wasn't in love.

He didn't brace himself for the smack to the back of his head. Or the punch to his shoulder. Or the sharp poke that he got to his sternum (which, hey, that could do some serious damage, damn it).

"What the fuck, Kurt?" He asked incredulously, ducking as another wave of punches and jabs came at him, pulling away from the younger boy and pulling the chair to Kurt's vanity in between them. "I tell you that you don't have to marry me, and you decide to punch me for it? What's that about? I'm trying to give you a way out, you idiot!"

"Exactly!" Kurt said, shoving the chair aside with ease and crowding himself in to Blaine's space again, smacking him upside the head as he did. "I tell you that I'm in love with you to the point that it scares me, and you give me a way out, when supposedly you love me just as much? That's not how this works, Blaine!"

Blaine growled, rolling his eyes and grabbing Kurt's hands quickly. "Okay, first of all, this whole "hitting me" thing is going to stop right fucking now. Second of all, what do you want me to do, Kurt? You were just crying ten minutes ago because we don't get a choice in how things go! I'm trying to give you what you want, here! I'm sorry for giving a damn." He huffed, dropping Kurt's hands and taking a step back. "Oh, and thanks for believing me when I told you I loved you...'Supposedly', my ass...That's low, Kurt." He mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kurt groaned, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. "I didn't say I wanted a choice, Blaine. If you would stop trying to be a martyr and just listen to me, you would know that." He sighed, glaring at Blaine for a second before moving so that he was standing in front of the older boy, putting a hand over his crossed arms lightly.

"I don't want a choice. Even if I had known about all of this beforehand, I wouldn't want a choice." He shrugged, smiling sardonically. "It probably makes me something close to certifiable, but all I really want out of this whole mess is you...Some time to let everything sink in probably wouldn't hurt, and actually hearing you say that you want all of this as much as I do would be nice, but if I can't have all of that, and all I get is you, so be it."

Blaine sighed in relief, uncrossing his arms and opening them so that Kurt could get closer. "If you're certifiable, so am I. We can be roommates at the loony bin," he said softly, jumping slightly when he felt Kurt giggle softly into his hair. "Seriously, we can share a padded room and cuddle in our straight jackets. It'll be the most twisted romance of all time."

Feeling Kurt shake his head, Blaine smiled, turning to lightly press a kiss against Kurt's temple. "And by the way...I want this, Kurt. I've wanted it since before it was really even an option."

Kurt pulled his head back, looking at Blaine curiously. "Before it was an option as in before you transferred?" Blaine avoided his eyes, so he pressed forward. "Before I went back to McKinley?" Still no eye contact, so he tried again. "Before we started dating?" When he realized that Blaine was all but stared at the ceiling, Kurt made a slight face, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. "How far back are we talking, Blaine?"

Blaine sighed, letting go of Kurt with one hand to rub at the back of his neck nervously. "Back to the point when all I knew about you was that you were a horrible spy with a smile that made me want to move mountains." He chuckled nervously, giving Kurt a 'What can you do?' sort of smile. "I know; it's creepy. Your boyfriend's a creep. You are the future Mr. Creepy McCreeperson. Congrats on that."

Kurt shrugged, leaning back against Blaine and squeezing him gently. "We're both the future Creepy McCreeperson, then...You had me hooked a 'skintight jeans'," he added in response to Blaine's pulling back to make a face at him.

"I'm the future Mr. Blaine Anderson..." He said softly, once the thought caught up to him that, hey, not all of that was a joke, you really are marrying this guy at some point. "It sounds weird to say...I blame you for not having a more fabulous name." He added, kissing Blaine's jaw to show he was kidding.

"Well...Okay, yeah, part of it's probably because my name's boring, but I can't really change that," he said, chuckling and rubbing Kurt's back gently. "But part of it's probably because it's not really official yet." He looked at Kurt, shrugging slightly. "I haven't actually asked, or given you a ring, or anything like that..."

"Are...Are you going to?" Kurt asked, biting his lip slightly. He was torn on what he wanted Blaine's answer to be, if he was being honest with himself. Part of him wanted it to be 'yes', just so that they could get the whole thing over with without making a big fuss out of it all (plus, jewelry). On the other hand, if Blaine wanted to wait, that automatically gave Kurt some of the time he needed to process everything and it put a little distance between their first real fight and them getting engaged, since that just kind of screamed 'bad idea'.

"Not right now," Blaine said, still running his hand up and down Kurt's back gently. "For starters, we just kind of got on the same page about needing some time, and if we make it official, nobody's going to want to give us that...Plus, I want you to be able to pick out your ring, or have one designed, whichever you want." He smiled, kissing Kurt's cheek. "I refuse to have our first fight as an engaged couple stem from my lack of knowledge when it comes to different cuts of diamonds."

Kurt laughed, turning his head and kissing Blaine slowly, for once not needing to cut the moment short because of rushing to another class, or so that he could (technically) be inside before curfew. He could take his time to find out exactly how Blaine liked to be kissed, and held, and anything else that he felt like finding out.

It wasn't like he was going to run out of time between now and forever.

***

Blaine wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten to Kurt’s bed, but he wasn’t about to complain. They were still kissing; long, slow, heady kisses that felt like they were melding together. Blaine noticed, in a small corner of his mind, that the way he was lying on the bed, twisted so his feet were still on the ground, was already kind of uncomfortable and likely to get more so, but somehow that didn’t seem very important. Kissing Kurt was. It was vital, like breathing.

Kurt pulled away for a moment, disentangling Blaine’s hands from his shirt. Blaine heard an odd sound of protest escape his mouth, and would have been mortified if Kurt had given him the time to reflect on it. Kurt was off of him, standing next to the bed. His face was flushed, and there was a desperate look in his eyes. “Move,” he said, urgently. Blaine wasn’t sure what he meant. Kurt tapped Blaine’s legs impatiently. “Move,” he repeated. “Your legs are going to fall asleep and you’ll have pins and needles and that is not conducive to a proper make-out session so move.”

It was kind of annoying that Kurt could still use words like conducive when Blaine wasn’t sure he could verbalize anything, but Kurt did have a point. Blaine swung his legs up onto the bed, absently hoping Kurt didn’t pick now to throw a fit about shoes on his bedspread. He didn’t. Instead, Kurt clambered on top of Blaine. He somehow even managed to do it in a somewhat graceful manner. Blaine couldn’t help but be a little irritated (he was supposed to be the smooth one, damn it) while at the same time entranced by just how beautiful his boyfriend was. Then Kurt was kissing him again and any appreciation of Kurt’s grace was sublimated by his appreciation of the weight of Kurt on top of him, the heat of Kurt’s body, Kurt’s soft seeking tongue.

It was amazing. It wasn’t enough. Blaine rolled them both over, still kissing. Now he was on top of Kurt, and it was his weight pressing down, Kurt pulling him down and spreading his legs to give Blaine room. Blaine was plastered to Kurt, and it still wasn’t enough. He wanted to be closer, wanted to crawl inside Kurt’s skin and never leave. He felt hot, almost feverish. He knew he was sweating, but he didn’t care. All Blaine wanted was right there beneath him, and Kurt was never going to leave.

Kurt made a feral sort of sound into Blaine’s mouth, and his nails dug into Blaine’s back. Blaine pulled back for just a moment, just to catch his breath, make sure this wasn’t too fast (can’t push him he’s too important have to make sure), but Kurt just growled (which was both disconcerting and utterly hot) and flipped them again. Now Kurt was on top again, and he wasn’t wasting any time. He was wrenching desperately at the buttons of Blaine’s shirt (why oh why had he picked today to wear a button down) and his pupils were dilated with desire. Blaine swallowed the moan trying to come out of his throat and instead batted away Kurt’s hands so he could unbutton the shirt himself. Kurt pulled his own shirt off over his head and threw it off to the side. “Kurt,” Blaine felt obligated to say, even though his voice was hoarse and cracking, “Are you sure you want to do this?” The shirt throwing was a pretty good sign, admittedly - Kurt never treated his clothes like that - but Blaine had to ask. Had to, because if Kurt wasn’t sure, he might end up regretting it, and Blaine didn’t think he could live with being one of Kurt’s regrets.

Kurt made an exasperated noise. “I’m sure,” he said, tugging at the hem of Blaine’s undershirt. “Really, really sure. I am so sure there is no possible lack of surety now take your damn shirt off.” Blaine obeyed. He saw Kurt’s adam’s apple move as he swallowed nervously, and couldn’t help but let his eyes follow down past the motion to never-before-seen skin. Kurt was pale - he always was, but especially here on his chest, his stomach, where his clothes usually covered him from the sun, and Blaine suddenly knew with an aching certainty that he would be even paler further down. He would have seemed unreal, angelic, were it not for the red flush spreading unevenly over his skin. Blaine wanted to discover where the flush started and trace its path with his tongue, but he didn’t. He reached up, not quite daring to touch Kurt, not yet. Kurt rolled his eyes, somehow able to keep his ability to make Blaine feel utterly, ridiculously stupid, even when he was halfway naked. Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand and guided it to his chest, holding Blaine’s hand against himself when Blaine instinctively tried to jerk away. “You can touch me, Blaine,” Kurt said. “I’m not going to break.” Of course he wasn’t. Kurt was so much stronger than people gave him credit for.

Blaine’s eyes shut of their own volition as he felt the soft skin over Kurt’s ribs. Intellectually, he knew it couldn’t feel that different from the inside of Kurt’s wrists or the skin above Kurt’s collarbone. But it did feel different. There was something about it, the intimacy of it, which called to something deep inside. And then Kurt was kissing him again, and he was holding Kurt again, but this time his hands weren’t touching the smooth fabric of Kurt’s shirt but instead his warm skin. Kurt was on top of him, pressed against him, skin on skin, and it felt so good Blaine didn’t think he could stand it. He slid one hand up to cup the back of Kurt’s neck, letting his other hand rest in the hollow of Kurt’s back, right above where their hips (oh god) were touching. The short soft hairs on the nape of Kurt’s neck tickled his hand, and Blaine laughed into the kiss. Kurt pulled back a little, an offended expression and a moue of a frown on his face. Still laughing a little, nearly breathless, Blaine moved his hand from Kurt’s neck to instead cup his cheek. “I’m not laughing at you, baby,” Blaine said, the endearment falling from his lips without thought, “I’m just - “ Blaine shook his head, smiling, as he tried to explain, “--I’m just happy.” Craning his head upward, Blaine kissed the corner of Kurt’s mouth. “So, so happy,” he repeated, in a voice barely above a whisper. And then he was kissing Kurt again.

Blaine was drowning in Kurt’s kisses. He shifted, trying to get closer, then froze. God, Kurt was as hard as he was. Blaine’s hips thrust up without his ever making the decision to do so. Kurt stifled a sharp cry in Blaine’s mouth and moved just a little and then- his erection was pressed perfectly against Blaine’s, their legs intertwined. Blaine helplessly, mindlessly, rubbed against Kurt, who gasped and finally broke their kiss. Kurt was moving back against Blaine, his hips moving in small circles that felt so damn good.

“Baby, please,” Blaine begged, not even sure what he was asking for.

Kurt moaned and violently kissed Blaine again, biting his lips as he pulled away. “One day,” Kurt promised in a dark voice, “You are going to fuck the goddamn life out of me.”

Blaine came, rubbing his cock against Kurt’s and gasping into Kurt’s mouth. It was ridiculous and gross and fantastic and wonderful and he couldn’t even think anymore. Distantly, Blaine noticed that Kurt was still moving against him, quick, desperate little thrusts. Fighting against his post-orgasm stupor, Blaine used one of his hands to guide Kurt’s thrusts - he wasn’t going to break if Kurt fucked his leg the way Blaine knew he wanted to - and with the other reached up to rub his thumb against the line of Kurt’s cheekbone. “Come on,” Blaine whispered. “Come on, Kurt. Come for me, baby.” Kurt gave a choking little cry and did, falling forward on top of Blaine.

Blaine caught him. Of course he did. He always would. Kurt laughed. And laughed, shaking on top of Blaine. It was only after he’d finally paid attention to what Blaine was saying - “Kurt, are you okay?” - that he realized he was crying. Blaine sounded like he was starting to panic, and no wonder, Kurt thought, his boyfriend just had sex with him and now he’s crying like some stupid teenage girl in a lifetime movie and - “Baby, please,” Blaine’s voice broke through Kurt’s thoughts. “Talk to me, Kurt.”

Kurt wasn’t really crying anymore, but his face was still wet with tears and his chest hurt from suppressed sobs. He knew Blaine was probably thinking all sorts of things like that they’d made a mistake, that this was too fast, that Kurt didn’t want this, that Kurt was just a foolish little boy who’d never done anything with anyone - but Kurt didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know why he’d been crying, since what they’d done had been so fucking amazing (ha, fucking amazing, get it? His internal Finn Hudson said). “I’m sorry,” Kurt said, not looking Blaine in the eyes. He tried to shift off of Blaine, but Blaine wouldn’t let him go.

“Kurt, you were crying,” Blaine said. His voice was still deep and throaty, his sex voice, dear lord, but he sounded remarkably put together for a seventeen-year-old that’d just had sex.

“Yes, well spotted,” Kurt said, trying to cover. “I can see why you do so well at those find the thing in the picture things.” Okay, so that was less than smooth.

“Kurt.” Blaine’s voice was deadly serious, and Kurt was completely unable to resist the agonized question running unsaid throughout Blaine’s words.

“I’m fine,” Kurt insisted, forcing down his embarrassment to look Blaine in the eye. “I don’t know why I was crying. I don’t-” his voice broke, and internally Kurt cursed himself. Really, now? He had to look away then, couldn’t deal with the intensity of Blaine’s gaze, not now- “It was just intense,” Kurt said quietly. “Just - really intense.”

Blaine’s grip on Kurt relaxed, and he let Kurt slip off and to the side. Twisting onto his own side, Blaine took Kurt’s left hand in his own. “Yeah,” Blaine agreed. “It really was.”

Kurt wanted to turn away, but he didn’t have anywhere to go. And it wasn’t like it was a bad thing, to have your boyfriend looking at you like you were everything they could have ever wanted, it was just - intense.

“God,” Blaine said quietly. “You are just so fucking beautiful, you know that?” Kurt blushed in mortification, but didn’t argue. He’d learned that Blaine was really stubborn on this point, no matter its clearly evident falsehood. Instead, Kurt shut his eyes and squeezed Blaine’s hand. They fell asleep that way, fingers intertwined, foreheads touching, practically breathing the same breath. Before Blaine finally let himself slip into sleep, he couldn’t help but think to himself that this must be what it would feel like, falling asleep with Kurt every night and waking up with him every morning, that this wonderful, quiet contentment he was feeling, so much softer than the usual intensity of emotion Blaine associated with Kurt, that this, too, was love.

***

Kurt awoke rather suddenly to Blaine shaking him. “Anthony’s here,” Blaine said. “He got us some lunch.” Kurt just stared at Blaine for a moment, not really with it yet. Then he looked at the clock and jumped up.

“Oh dear sweet Alexander McQueen if my dad comes home early-” Kurt was acutely aware of the gross stickiness in his pants and the smell of sex in the air. Blaine tried to calm him down, but Kurt really didn’t feel like being calm. If Glee practice got canceled (ignoring the fact that Rachel would never let it be canceled unless she was dead and maybe not even then) then Finn could be home any minute, and if his dad decided to come home because that fishing show was on, or if Carole got off of her shift early- “I’m not even supposed to have you in my room when no one’s here,” Kurt blurted out, which, okay, Blaine had sort of assumed, having met Kurt’s dad, but since Kurt had never actually said, Blaine had always been able to pretend they weren’t breaking any rules.

Maybe it was strange for the son of a mob boss to be so concerned about rules, but rules were important in the mob. And rules were really important if you wanted to keep dating someone with a somewhat overprotective father. “Crap,” Blaine muttered. “Okay,” he said, in a louder voice, “Kurt-” he waited until he was sure he had Kurt’s attention. “Go get cleaned up, get changed; I’ll take care of the room.” It was a good thing he’d told Anthony it’d be a bit before they came up. It was a bit awkward that Anthony had, in a slightly insubordinate and very deliberate manner, left the door at the top of the stairs open, but since he had given the two of them a whole hour past what they’d agreed to, Blaine decided to let it go. Now, how to deal with the room…looking around, Blaine finally spotted a fan. It’d have to do. He turned it on and straightened the bedclothes, which had gotten twisted up while they were asleep.

“Here,” Kurt said from behind him. Blaine turned around to a pair of boxers thrust in his face. He took them reflexively, but felt obliged to point out that Kurt’s underwear was unlikely to fit him. “They’re Finn’s,” Kurt said. “Don’t worry, they’re clean. I figured too big would be better than too small.” Blaine couldn’t argue with that, and went into the bathroom to change. Taking off his pants, Blaine winced at the pull on his skin from dried semen. It was like pulling off the worst, grossest band-aid ever. But Blaine couldn’t bring himself to regret any of what he and Kurt had done, not even the falling asleep without bothering to first clean up, which would have been the smart thing to do. Using a washcloth, he gave himself a cursory wipe down and changed into the fresh pair of boxers. Luckily he didn’t seem to have gotten anything on his jeans. He might be able to pull off wearing Finn’s underwear, but Finn was, like, a foot taller than him. It’d be pretty obvious if Blaine went upstairs wearing Finn’s jeans.

When Blaine came out of the bathroom, Kurt was fixing his hair in front of the mirror. Blaine felt a fond smile twitch at his lips. Of course Kurt was fixing his hair. Coming up behind him, Blaine slid his arms around Kurt, resting his chin on Kurt’s shoulder. One good thing about Kurt being taller than him was that his shoulders were at the perfect height to be chin rests. “Blaine, I’m busy,” Kurt said, but not with any real seriousness in his voice.

“You look fine,” Blaine said, rolling his eyes. “It’s just Anthony; he’s not going to care if a few hairs are out of place.”

“Of course I look fine,” Kurt said. “I want to look amazing.”

Blaine huffed a laugh into Kurt’s neck. As though Kurt could ever look anything but amazing. Reaching out, he pulled Kurt’s hand up and gently kissed him, where the ring finger connected to the hand. Kurt’s sharp intake of breath let Blaine know that he hadn’t missed the significance. “One day,” Blaine said quietly into Kurt’s ear, still holding his hand, “I will ask you to marry me.”

Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath and twisted around to look Blaine in the eyes. “And one day,” Kurt said, feeling light-headed, “I’ll say yes.”

Blaine kissed him, chastely, and it felt like a vow.

Blaine kept his chin on Kurt's shoulder while the younger boy finished getting himself together, smiling at the sight of them in the mirror. "You're gonna have a field day getting to pick out my clothes for me once we're married, aren't you?" He asked softly, smiling as he watched Kurt's reflection light up.

"Like you wouldn't believe. I have enough fun taking you shopping now that you don't have to wear a uniform every day," Kurt said, reaching over his shoulder and ruffling Blaine's hair gently. "However, between now and then, I need you to go upstairs and act like you and Anthony have been up there the whole time, just in case my dad--" He cut off at the sound of tires in the driveway.

"Consider me gone," Blaine said, kissing Kurt on the cheek quickly and running upstairs. He spotted Anthony in the kitchen with both his and Kurt's food already open and slightly stirred around as if they had been eating already. "What's the story?" He asked as he dropped in to a chair across from the bodyguard, panting slightly.

"Mr. Hummel felt dizzy after his math class, which also explains his fight with his teacher, so you brought him home first, then went back to school yourself while I waited here. You showed up about ten minutes ago with a late lunch for Mr. Hummel, who is downstairs putting on a different shirt after getting pasta sauce on the one he was wearing earlier." Anthony said calmly, showing some of his twenty-seven years of practice. "You also, though Boss man doesn't know it yet, brought home some cheesecake for Mr. and Mrs. Hummel, since you took Kurt out of school without asking their permission."

Blaine nodded quickly, taking a huge bite out of the lasagna in front of him. "You're the best, Anthony. Beyond the best. Remind me to get you that holster you've been eyeing, alright? I owe you way more than that, but it's a start."

Anthony nodded, standing up as he heard the front door slam, relaxing slightly as Burt rounded the corner from the living room. "Mr. Hummel, sir. How you doing? You work hard today, or hardly work?"

Burt chuckled, patting the other man's shoulder and nodding at Blaine as he walked toward the fridge. "Hardly worked, thanks to that kid of mine. You know he told the other guys at the shop to schedule me an afternoon of paperwork every other day? I mean, I know that I gotta watch myself, but taking the lug nuts off a car ain't gonna do me in...Where is Kurt, anyways?" Burt asked, looking from Blaine to the take-out containers to the empty setting at the table.

"I'm here, dad. Right here," Kurt called from the top of the stairs. "And if you've even thinking of getting some of that pie Carole made for dinner last night, you'd better think again. I shouldn't have let you have it last night, but two days in a row definitely isn't gonna happen." He walked in to the kitchen and up to his father, pulling him away from the fridge slowly. "You go sit and watch TV. I'll find something healthy for you to have as a snack."

Burt grumbled as he was all but marched out of the kitchen, pausing at the doorway to turn to Blaine. "Sports Center's going to have a special on the top ten college quarterbacks of all time in about half an hour. You up for it?" As Blaine nodded, Burt smirked, nodding at him in return. "Good. That'll give you some time to fix your hair so it doesn't look like you just spent an hour making out with my son."

Blaine watched him walk out of the room, his jaw practically on the floor. "I--Um--Ye--Yes sir?" He stammered, looking at Kurt nervously, wincing as his boyfriend shrugged and followed his father out to the living room, talking to him quietly. Blaine dropped his head in his hands, only looking up when Kurt came back in to the kitchen.

"So? How dead am I?" He asked, biting his lip slightly. He sighed as Kurt sat down next to him, automatically reaching out and pulling the younger boy closer, kissing him on the cheek gently. "I'm never allowed over again, am I? I'm banished from the Hudmel household for the rest of time."

Kurt laughed, leaning against Blaine and shaking his head. "Actually, you're more welcome here than you ever were before..." He smirked at Blaine's raised eyebrow, reaching up and tapping at Blaine's neck slightly. "Dad's impressed with my ability to leave hickeys, apparently. He said he was proud of me for making sure nobody tried to take you away from me."

Blaine blinked at Kurt in confusion, shaking his head slightly. "Wait...He what?!" He asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"You heard me," Kurt said, smirking slightly and reaching for the food that Anthony had brought him. "I chose to leave out the fact that if anyone so much as looks at you, I could shoot them, or have them shot for it."

Blaine winced, shaking his head and laughing softly. "Maybe we should save that little bit of information until after we're engaged...I don't want him blaming me for your violent tendencies."

"Too late."

***

Finn left glee practice early that afternoon. Rachel hadn’t been too happy, so Finn had a feeling he was going to be apologizing, like, a lot for the next few days, but he’d been worried about Kurt. The dude had apparently flipped out during math class, and Mercedes said that Blaine took him home, which, okay, was sort of understandable because Kurt didn’t flip out so if he had flipped out then it was probably pretty serious, but dude. Kurt got out of school way more than Finn did. And when Kurt cut school to hang out with his boyfriend, Mom and Burt thought it was cute. If Finn cut school to hang out with Rachel, he’d, like, never stop being grounded.

Okay, so it wasn’t like Kurt could get Blaine pregnant. He couldn’t, right? Finn tried to think it through: Okay, so probably they couldn’t get pregnant. They were gay, but they’re still guys, with, like, guy parts, but - oh, God. What if they could get pregnant? Rachel was always complaining about the sex-ed class they’d had at school, and, okay, Finn had tuned most of it out, but he remembered her turning to Kurt indignantly and complaining that they hadn’t said a thing about gay sex. (Kurt had just raised an eyebrow and pointed out that homosexuality didn’t exist in Ohio, which Finn didn’t understand, because Lima was in Ohio, and Kurt was really, really gay, so clearly it did.) So how would Kurt, like, know if he needed to use protection? Finn had believed Quinn’s hot tub story, okay, and Finn knew that in retrospect that was kind of stupid of him, but at least people told you how not to get girls pregnant.

So maybe Finn shouldn’t have blurted out “Kurt! Don’t get pregnant!” the moment he walked into the living room and saw Kurt curled up next to Blaine on the couch. He didn’t think he deserved Burt dragging him off for a private talk, though, which was clearly going to like, suck, a lot, since there was a football special on and if Burt was skipping that it meant things were serious and- “I’m sorry!” Finn said quickly. “I know, it’s none of my business, and Kurt can take care of himself, and - I mean, not that Kurt needs to take care of himself, because it’s not like he’s having sex with Blaine-” (oh God, he hoped Kurt wasn’t having sex with Blaine. Wait, was that, like, homophobic? Finn didn’t think so, because he was pretty sure the reason he found that upsetting to think about was because Kurt was, like, his brother, but he thought maybe he should ask Rachel the next time he saw her. She was pretty good about letting him ask things like that, which Kurt always seemed to think really funny for some reason.)

“Finn!” Burt interrupted his internal monologue. Finn looked at Burt, startled.

“I’m sorry?” Finn tried again.

Burt ran a hand over his hair distractedly. “Finn,” he started, and then stopped. “Do you- I mean, are you - God, what are they teaching them in school these days?” Finn was pretty sure he hadn’t been meant to hear that last part.

Back in the living room, Blaine finally managed to speak. "Did he just tell you...?" Blaine trailed off, afraid that saying it out loud would make it real.

"Yes. Yes, he did. And I can tell you now that no, he wasn't joking and yes, he really thinks it's a valid concern." Kurt said, unfazed. "Don't even try and find the logic in it, you'll give yourself a migraine and be forever caught in the maze of trying to understand him. Same with Brittany, actually."

Blaine made a face at him in confusion. "But...He knows that--that just because we're gay doesn't mean--He has to know that, Kurt.  Doesn't he?"

Kurt sighed, realizing that yet again, Finn had managed to cock-block him using nothing but his powers of stupidity. Sitting up and turning so that he was facing Blaine, Kurt took the other boys face in his hands gently, looking him in the eye and speaking slowly. "Blaine, I want you to listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once," Kurt started, looking at his boyfriend closely to make sure that he had his full attention. At Blaine's nodding, Kurt continued. "Finn?  Is stupid.  I love him to death, but he's the most gullible guy alive.  There's no fixing that.  Give up now."

Blaine blinked at him, clearly still confused. Kurt sighed, flopping back down so that he was cuddled up against his boyfriend similar to how he had been before. Patting Blaine on the chest gently, Kurt shook his head.

"It's okay, honey. You just worry about being the handsome one with the gun; I'll do all the hard work."

Blaine was reasonably certain he ought to have taken offense to that last, but honestly? He was too busy being ridiculously happy that Kurt had called him honey. In a mocking sort of way, true, but still. (Blaine had no illusions about just how head over heels he was for Kurt. Growing up in the mob taught you to be honest with yourself and to lie to everyone else.) Still, he knew Kurt expected some kind of response, so Blaine pouted and slid down on the couch, pretending to sulk.

Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine saw Kurt look heaven-ward, presumably for patience. Blaine smirked a little, but made sure to have wiped it back off his face by the time Kurt looked back down. To be fair, Blaine was a little concerned. Kurt seemed to think that Finn’s outburst had been to be expected. Was Kurt’s stepbrother really that out of it?

Kurt sighed next to him. “Finn’s sweet,” he said, proving yet again that he could read Blaine’s mind, “But he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. I love the lug, but sometimes he just doesn’t get things.” Kurt shrugged helplessly. “It’s easier to just go with it. He’s not as bad as Brittany, thank goodness.”

Blaine twisted up to look at Kurt again. “Is your father going to explain to him-”

Kurt grimaced. “I hope not.”

“Someone ought to explain it to him,” Blaine pointed out. “I mean, I still can’t believe that he was serious. This is basic facts of life stuff.”

Kurt sighed again. “Remind me sometime to tell you about how his ex-girlfriend convinced him he was the father of her baby, even though they’d never had sex.”

Blaine blinked. “Wait, what?”

The front door audibly opened and closed. Kurt brightened. “Oh, good! Carole’s home!”

“And she’ll explain to Finn-”

“Carole!” Burt called from the other room. “You and I need to have a conversation with Finn.”

“You really don’t,” Finn said quickly, backing back into the living room. “I already said I’m sorry and I won’t bother Kurt again about stuff that’s not my business. And I really was just worried about him, because he’s like my brother now, and I don’t understand why I’m in trouble now. I didn’t think I was doing anything bad!”

“You’re not in trouble, Finn,” Burt said exasperatedly.

“But you said we needed to have a talk!” Finn accused.

“Yes-”

“That means I’m in trouble!”

Blaine felt a hot huff of breath against his shoulder. Kurt seemed to be trying to smother his laughter in Blaine’s shirt. “Maybe we should leave?” Blaine whispered.

“And go where?” Kurt asked in the same undertone.

“Well, I’m pretty sure my parents and Emma were going to a friend’s dinner party tonight, so my house would be fairly quiet,” Blaine said softly, trying to sound casual. Who was he kidding? Kurt knew that he meant they could be alone, and after what they’d done earlier, he was pretty sure Kurt knew what Blaine wanted to do when they were alone again. From the way Kurt’s eyes lit up, Blaine was pretty sure he agreed.

“Dad?” Kurt called out, never looking away from Blaine. “Blaine invited me over to dinner at his place. Is it alright if I go?”

“Sure,” Burt said, clearly still distracted by Finn.

“And since it’s so far out, I thought I’d probably just stay the night rather than driving back in the dark,” Kurt continued.

Blaine saw Burt’s attention shift from Finn to Kurt. “You did,” Burt said dryly.

Kurt swallowed nervously but turned around to face his father. “Well, I know how worried you get about me driving in less than ideal conditions,” Kurt said.

“So instead of driving home in the dark, you want to spend the night at your boyfriend’s house,” Burt said. There didn’t really seem to be a question there, but Kurt chose to answer anyway.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

There was a sudden loud noise from across the room. Finn had apparently been trying to sneak away when he ran into the door frame. Burt sighed. “Blaine,” he said.

“Yes, sir?” Blaine said, back straightening.

“There going to be adults at your house tonight?”

“Yes sir,” Blaine said. He carefully didn’t mention the fact that the adults in question all worked for him. Unless Mr. Hummel specifically asked, that wasn’t necessary information.

“Fine,” Burt said. “But you - both of you, actually - make sure to get your homework done. And no skipping class again tomorrow,” he told Kurt with a scowl. “I know you had a bad day today and I understand you wanting to spend time with your boyfriend, but that doesn’t excuse you skipping out on your schoolwork. Your grades are important, Kurt.”

“I know, Dad,” Kurt said, standing up to give him a hug. “I promise, no more skipping class. Unless it’s important.”

“And sales-”

“-Are not important, I know,” Kurt said. “Although I would again like to lodge a formal complaint about the categorization of designer sales as unimportant.”

“Go,” Burt said, “Have fun. Drive safe.”

Blaine went outside to wait while Kurt gathered emergency spending-the-night-and-getting-ready-for-school supplies. He probably could have waited inside, but Mr. Hummel had started trying to explain to Mrs. Hudson-Hummel what, exactly, was the issue they needed to talk to Finn about, and really? Blaine wanted no part of that. Finn was nice and all, and for the most part he seemed to be a pretty good stepbrother to Kurt, but - Blaine was not ready to deal with listening to someone explain to a teenager that men couldn’t get each other pregnant.

And also he really didn’t want Mr. Hummel to notice the erection he’d gotten thinking about what he wanted to do to Mr. Hummel’s son later. Blaine had a feeling that that? Would really suck.

And not in a good way.

Blaine straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the car as Kurt made his way out of his house, overnight bag slung over his shoulder. "Oh my god," he said, walking over to Blaine and leaning against his boyfriend. "I wish I had a camera. The look on Finn's face! You should've seen it, Blaine." He laughed, letting go of Blaine to flop against the side of the car, still laughing. "Seriously, go see. I'm pretty sure he's still trying to pick his jaw up off the floor..."

"I'll pass, baby...There are better things for me to be doing right now." He said, eying the way Kurt was bent over the hood of his car. "You should get in the car, Kurt." He said softly, taking a step closer and putting a hand on his boyfriend's waist gently.

Kurt looked up at Blaine, smirking slightly. "Oh, really? Better things like what, honey? Homework? Watching TV on your family's ridiculously large TV?" He smiled, turning so that he was propped up on his elbows. "Trying not to drool while you undress me with your eyes?"

Blaine groaned softly, sneaking a glance at the windows to see if Burt or Carole was looking outside before moving so that he was leaning over Kurt, kissing him deeply. He leaned back, sliding his hand along Kurt's side gently. "I think you should get in the car, baby," he said softly, squeezing Kurt's hip gently before pulling away completely and heading for the driver's side door.

Kurt sighed, letting his head fall back against the car in the frustration. "You know, this whole 'tease' act you've got going on better stop once we're engaged. I refuse to get blue balls just because you think you're being funny."

"You wouldn't be worrying about it if you'd get in the car," Blaine said, raising an eyebrow and starting the engine. "Now will you please get in? I have a laundry list of plans for you, none of which involve your family's driveway. We're not at that level of PDA yet."

"I want it to go on record that you're setting yourself up for some serious payback when we get to your house." Kurt said as he walked around to the passenger side and got in, smirking at Blaine slightly. "You're not the only one with plans, you know..."

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