FINISHED! *fist pumps* If you are still here reading, be proud of yourself! You made it over 110,000 words! How you all stuck around that long is freaking beyond me! I feel like I need to bake you all brownies or something, but when I see the unique hits here numbering in the thousands, I quickly change my mind about the brownie thing... O.o Just, thank you guys so much for reading, and reviewing. It means so much to me, you don't even know.
Will there be a sequel? That's a very firm maybe. The prologue and story are already in my head *curses* BUT my ability to write it out depends on the show (If I stray too far from acceptable canon I can't see it) and how much a sequel is really needed or desired. Hope you have enjoyed this!
Magen's Bay in St. Thomas is supposed to be one of the top ten beaches in the world. Kurt isn't quite seeing it. Of course, it could be because he had spent the first half hour after disembarkation huddling under a tiny five by five tent to avoid the pouring rain, and he'd only gotten the overhead cover he did because Blaine had graciously chosen to just get wet. The families huddled under the tent apparently didn't think teenage boys needed to come in from out of the rain.
Okay, so Blaine had also looked ridiculously adorable soaked as he had been, dark curls plastered against his head and an expression of utter resignation permanently molded on his face.
The other boys had chosen the wet route as well, Finn making a brilliantly obvious statement that hey, they planned on swimming at the beach anyway, so why wait? It was warm, at least, and it wasn't supposed to rain all day, so…
Except that it is still overcast, and occasionally the clouds decide to open up and drop a light drizzle over one of the unsurprisingly empty top ten beaches in the world.
Blaine is in the water with Nick; they'd spent the first fifteen minutes or so just enjoying the surf, but now they are further out, dark heads bobbing along with the waves. Kurt honestly isn't watching his boyfriend like a creepy stalker or anything; he's just watching Blaine's interaction with Nick. He has no doubts about what they've been discussing for the last half hour. While he truly believes Blaine isn't sharing the whole back story with Nick like he had with Kurt, he's fairly certain Nick would be the only one of the Warblers brave enough to bring up Blaine's loss of control on the pool deck yesterday. He kind of wishes he were in on the conversation, except that he's also fairly certain Nick would never have felt comfortable bringing it up around him. He thinks there might be some weird kind of power struggle between him and Nick over who has the right to be more concerned over Blaine's welfare. He doesn't think it will interfere with their friendship—if anything, it might strengthen it due to the common bond—but still, the line between Blaine's friend and Blaine's boyfriend has clearly been drawn.
"I think it might rain here more than Ohio," Kendrick remarks as he flops on to Blaine's towel beside Kurt. He's facing headfirst toward the surf, lying on his belly, head propped on his hands.
"That would certainly explain the rainforests."
Kendrick glances over his shoulder at him, grinning. "You're such a bitch. I never realized that prior to this cruise. Before I thought you were cute and sweet. But no, bitch is a much better description."
Kurt smiles and shrugs, gaze returning to the water, where Blaine is currently dunking Nick under a wave. He can't help but wonder what Nick said to garner that reaction. The pocket of his swim trunks suddenly vibrates, and he reaches in to pull out his cell phone. Thank God they're back in US territory.
From: Mercedes Jones
U up, boo? Got ur email.
Kurt smiles, sitting up to type: Sitting on a beach. It's raining. K called me a bitch.
"By the way," Kendrick says, rolling over on to his back, raised up on his elbows to face Kurt. "Double-date next Friday. Michael wants to see "The Green Hornet"." Kendrick pulls a face.
"I can honestly say I don't have the slightest interest in that movie." Kurt checks his phone when it vibrates again.
From: Mercedes Jones
Who the hell is K? And do I need 2 kill some1?
Kurt finds himself picturing the meeting between Mercedes and Kendrick. It makes him laugh softly as he types: Warbler. Kendrick. And no.
When he looks up, Kendrick is watching him with a look that's easily readable. Kurt sighs. He kind of knew this would be coming because, well, it's Kendrick, and he doesn't think the boy stays quiet about things for too long.
Deciding that it would be better to cut off the conversation before it can start, Kurt says, "Look, I can tell you're going to ask about yesterday, but don't. Okay? Last night was awesome. How everyone just went back to normal. Let's stay there."
Kendrick's brow furrows a little as he digs into the sand beside the towel with his fingers. He seems to be considering what he wants to say, which is admittedly odd from what Kurt knows of him. "I wasn't going to ask anything," he says after a moment. "I wouldn't put you on the spot like that. It's kind of obvious that Blaine has shared things with you that he hasn't with anyone else at school, and that's cool. I was just going to sayI was glad you were there yesterday—how you responded. To say the whole thing was a little," he seems to struggle for the word, "unsettling is an understatement. It was kind like seeing Superman reacting to Kryptonite. All you can think is wow, if the Man of Steel has a weakness where does that leave me?"
Kurt arches an eyebrow. It's a particularly apropos comparison.
"Anyway," Kendrick continues, lying back flat on the towel to stare up at the overcast sky. "It's not like we don't all have our breaking points, you know? I even found out I had one last year."
Kurt waits quietly for Kendrick to continue. He glances quickly at the screen of his phone to see another text from Mercedes:
From: Mercedes Jones
Oh! Team gay? Is he cute?
To: Mercedes Jones
Yes & yes. Not like that, tho'. More later.
"Last Valentines I went out to get something for Michael," Kendrick finally says, still talking to the clouds overhead. Kurt lays his phone beside him and wraps his arms around his legs, giving the boy his full attention. "We'd been dating for approximately two weeks, so I was kind of in that stage of needing to get him something so he would fall madly in love with me and never, ever leave."
Kurt smiles. He knows the feeling.
"After finding the perfect gift—don't ask what it was, it's embarrassing—I was so excited I went on and on to the girl behind the counter about my boyfriend and how I hoped he liked it. She was really nice about it, putting up with my rambling and assuring me he would love it. So she hands me the bag and I go to leave, and then I see these three guys watching me. They're just kind of hovering not too far from the counter, whispering to one another and looking over at me. I tried not to think too much of it—I mean, when does shit like that not happen, right?"
Drawing a breath inward, Kurt nods; he thinks about yesterday, about McKinley, about how he isn't certain he wants to hear the rest of Kendrick's story.
"So I head out of the mall to my car, and it isn't until I'm almost there that I realize they're following me. I didn't want them to realize I'd caught on, and it was the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I remained calm and just walked to my car, climbed in, and locked the doors. I remember looking at the rearview mirror and watching them walk past—they were all looking inside, but they kept walking so I thought I was safe."
Kendrick props himself up again, squinting at Kurt. "You know how in horror films, there's always the girl who gets away from the axe murderer or whatever, and she and the audience are all thankful she made it, and then when you know you should expect it, but you really don't, suddenly the guy stalking her is there and cuts her head off?"
Kurt blinks. "That's a little more detail than I needed."
"Well, it's how I felt." Kendrick's frowning. "When I left the parking lot, I realized they were still following me. Like those stories you read about how people with road rage follow someone home and then beat them to death with a crowbar. Except I hadn't done anything to these guys! It's not like I cut them off or didn't use my blinker or something."
"What did you do?"
Kendrick shakes his head. "I panicked, first and foremost. I was terrified of driving back to school because all I could think was then they'd know I went there, and they could just show up at any time waiting for me. And really, that was stupid—Dalton was probably the safest place for me to get back to, but I wasn't thinking. So instead, I went to the most crowded place I knew, parked the car and ran inside." Kendrick rolls his eyes. "I wasted three hours of my life standing in that Walmart, waiting them out."
Kurt can't help it. "Wow. I think I would have taken the beat down."
Kendrick laughs without humor. "Yeah. Well, you do stupid things when you're in fear for your life."
Kurt knows that one all too well. You tend not to tell people when things get dangerous because you don't want them to get hurt, too. You bottle things up until it eats away at you and you're not certain you can even handle getting out of bed in the morning. You turn your fear and anger on the people who matter the most, the ones who could really help you.
Yeah, he knows too well the stupidity trap that one can fall into.
"Anyway, don't like tell anyone about that, okay?" Kendrick is saying his gaze trained on the sand again. "I mean, Michael doesn't know about it, and I don't want him to. I can't exactly admit that I'm terrified of going outside Dalton by myself anymore. One, it's ridiculous, and two he'd end up insisting that I wasn't allowed to ever leave grounds without him there again. And that's not exactly the healthiest way to go about life, is it? Always leaning on someone else to protect you."
Kurt glances out at the water where Blaine and Nick are slowly making their way back to shore. "It depends," he says after a moment. "Maybe you matter enough to them that protecting you makes them happy. Maybe they need to. And maybe you kind of need it, too."
"Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about me anymore?" Kendrick is smiling kindly at him when Kurt meets his gaze. He turns his head to look over his shoulder as Blaine and Nick step on to the shore. "Looks like I'm about to lose my spot."
"Probably an accurate assessment." Kurt smiles at Blaine as he approaches.
Kendrick stands just as Blaine reaches the edge of the towel, and Blaine's flashing him one of his adorably half-annoyed, half-amused expressions, eyeing Kendrick like he really isn't quite certain what to do with him.
And, of course, Kendrick apparently loves pushing Blaine's buttons. "Not encroaching on your territory here, so don't give me that look. We were just chatting."
Blaine rolls his eyes. "Go away, Kendrick."
"No love, man," Kendrick says, giving Kurt a quick wink before moving to catch up to Nick as they head a few feet away to where Jeff, Flint and Braden are all laying in the sand. Not one of them is paying attention to the other—they all have their phones out.
"Miss me?" Blaine asks, kneeling down on his towel. Before stretching out, he leans over and kisses Kurt's shoulder, and in the process, drips cooling water all over him.
Giggling, Kurt shoves him away gently, brushing at the drops on his skin as if they somehow offended him. "I had—then you got me wet!"
Blaine pulls a face and glances up at the sky overhead as he leans back on his elbows.
"That's rain water," Kurt explains in a voice indicating that Blaine should know better. "Salt water dries my skin out."
Blaine snorts and drops his head back on his towel, closing his eyes. Kurt takes a moment to appreciate the water that clings to his chest and stomach, how the dark hair on his legs and arms is currently plastered to his skin. The way his swim trunks are molded around his hips—
Looking away quickly, Kurt imagines his dad appearing above him, reading the train of his thoughts. It's enough to make him stop thinking about his boyfriend for a brief moment. He pulls out his phone instead.
To: Mercedes Jones
Sorry. K and I were talking.
From: Mercedes Jones
NP. Having a good time?
To: Mercedes Jones
From: Mercedes Jones
Smiling, Kurt glances over at Blaine, still lying beside him with his eyes closed. Scooting closer, Kurt leans down beside him, poking at his arm. "Hey. I want to take a picture of us."
Blaine opens his eyes, glancing at the phone in his hand. "I'm guess you have a nefarious purpose in mind. One that will involve more texting while I lay here lonesome and miserable. Rejected in favor of an iPhone."
Kurt rolls his eyes. "Give me a break. I just want Mercedes to see that I'm having a good time."
"Have you told her about us?" There's a slight pause prior to the question.
"No. I didn't really want to say it in an email, you know." He holds the phone up in front of them for the picture.
Just as he is about to take it, Blaine leans up and kisses him. Kurt laughs softly as his boyfriend pulls back, looking quite pleased with himself. They both crowd together to see the resulting shot, giggling at the picture on the screen. Kurt's eyes are focused on the camera, and they're a little wide with surprise—Blaine has his lips firmly pressed against Kurt's.
"There," Blaine says, sounding inordinately pleased with himself. "Now you can tell her."
"Now the whole Glee club will know," Kurt says, adding text to the photo.
To: Mercedes Jones
Not much to tell, really… ;)
He hits send before laying the phone on the other side of Blaine so that he can lay his head on Blaine's shoulder. While he isn't into overt PDA—they'd had to witness a boy and girl sucking face at the edge of the beach when they'd arrived; David had called out that this was a public beach, not a pay-by-the-hour motel—he can't help but take advantage of being somewhere that he feels a little more comfortable with giving in to his need to constantly touch his boyfriend. He may not have been so at ease if the beach had been more crowded; as it is, there aren't many others there beyond the Warblers, fellow Millennium passengers and a couple dozen passengers from the other cruise ships in port. The closest groups near them are Warblers, and if they're not used to Kurt and Blaine cuddling by now, they never will be.
His phone starts vibrating. One text, two, three… It's moving so much, it actually begins shaking itself off the towel. Blaine and Kurt are both staring at it.
Blaine finally says, "Aren't you going to check it?"
"Nah." Kurt slides his arm around Blaine's waist and snuggles closer, closing his eyes. "They can wait. This way they have time to text each other, call each other, and make up outrageous stories as to why I'm not responding."
Blaine laughs. "You're not a very nice person, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt smiles, kissing the still wet skin beneath his mouth. "I know. It's one of the reasons you love me so much. I balance the relationship—you're ridiculously nice. It's my duty to make up for that."
His boyfriend snorts at that, shifting slightly to grab Kurt's phone. Kurt really and truly hopes his friends don't say anything embarrassing—it's a foolish and impossible hope, but he thinks it all the same. When he feels Blaine start to laugh beneath him, he asks, "Well?"
"Just a quick comment—I love you, babe, but your friends are crazy."
"Said as if I wasn't already aware. Let's hear it."
"Okay. From Mercedes—Get it, white boy! From Quinn—I'm so happy for you, Kurt." Kurt flushes, happy that his face is currently pressed against Blaine's shoulder. "From Tina—He's hawt, let's swap!... Ummm."
Kurt giggles. "I'm not certain Mike would be totally in love with that idea."
"Admittedly, I'm not certain I am, either." There's just a hint of jealousy in the tone; enough to make Kurt smile. "From Artie—Rock on. From Mike—That's cool, dude. Plz don't listen to T." His boyfriend chuckles briefly before continuing, "From Brittany—Why is that strangr bitingKurt?" Blaine pauses there, about to say something and Kurt tells him, "Ignore her. Go on."
Kurt holds his breath.
"Boring! Is he a good lay?" Kurt three shades of red as he feels Blaine turn his head to look at him. "Am I?"
"That has yet to be determined since we're taking this slow."
"Ah. Should I tell her that?"
"God no!" Kurt leans up and shoots him a murderous expression.
Blaine laughs, leaning up to kiss him quickly. "Kidding. Lay back down. We're not finished yet."
Kurt's not certain he wants to hear the rest, but he lies back down anyway, if only to stay snuggled beside Blaine.
"From Rachel—Kurt, I'm so happy for you both! This is so amazing. I am going to show my dads. You really need to introduce him to the rest of us. xoxo. Wow, she's long-winded."
"You have no idea."
"From Sam—Way to go, Kurt. Who's Sam?"
"The Linda Evangelista look-alike."
"Oh, the one who sang The Time of My Life at Sectionals?" Kurt nods. Blaine goes back to reading, "From Noah—Looks like the princess found his prince. So who's the princess in this scenario?"
"How many tiaras do you own?"
There's a pause, and then, "Uh, none."
"That would be me, then."
Blaine laughs, and his arm curls around Kurt's shoulders, pulling him a little closer. "I kind of want to see you in them now."
Giggling, Kurt tells him, "That's a privilege you're going to have to earn."
"Sounds like a challenge." Kurt's phone buzzes again and Blaine checks it before saying, "I take it you texted Aaron about Pav?"
"Yeah. I was worried he killed the poor thing." Kurt raises up on an elbow. "Is he alive?"
"Says here Bird's alive and annoying as evr. Plz dont leave me w/it again. Your roommate is a whiner."
"Tell me something I don't know."
He lays his chin on Blaine's chest, staring up at him as Blaine continues to glance through his texts. Kurt doesn't really mind. There's nothing there he feels any need to hide from his boyfriend. And honestly, he's beyond pleased that Blaine didn't seem to take offense to any of the responses from his friends in New Directions. In fact, he finds himself looking forward to the day when he can introduce Blaine to all of them.
"You think Kendrick's cute?"
Oh, okay. Maybe there are a few texts Blaine shouldn't be reading.
Kurt reaches up and snatches his phone from Blaine's hand. "Yes," he admits as he tosses it back to his towel. "And don't try to deny that you find him cute, too. And don't pout. I can say Kendrick is cute because my boyfriend happens to be a cross between Cary Grant and Marlon Brando."
Kurt adds, "And don't let that go to your head."
It starts raining again. Kurt cranes his head back to look up at the sky, squinting against the light drops falling on to his eyes. "It's kind of fitting, I think, this dreary day being our last day of vacation."
"It's really depressing when you put it like that."
Kurt sighs, gives up on worrying about the water and lays his head back against Blaine's shoulder. It gets quieter on the beach whenever it starts raining. Some of the people run for the shelter of the bar further up the beach, others huddle under umbrellas or make their way into the water because it's a little bit warmer than the falling rain. Kurt actually shudders a little with a momentary chill and Blaine pulls him closer, his hand sliding over Kurt's arm to warm it.
They lay there quietly for the next few minutes, and Kurt finds himself thinking how this is the last day, and soon they'll be back in Ohio. Back to their regular lives, and everything about the last week won't even feel real.
"Do you think it'll be the same?" He finds himself asking.
"Us. Back at Dalton."
Blaine shifts beneath him, forcing Kurt to lift up and meet his gaze. "What do you mean?" Blaine runs his fingers through Kurt's hair as he stares at him. "Why would this be any different there?"
Kurt shrugs. He really can't put an explanation to his fears.
"Kurt, I love you. Here or at Dalton, that doesn't change. I can't wait to walk down the hallways with you, holding your hand. I can't wait for everyone there to know that we're together."
Kurt smiles at that, and leans in for a quick kiss from his boyfriend. "I know I shouldn't worry. Sometimes everything just feels so surreal."
Blaine returns the smile and steals another quick kiss. "Do you love me?" He asks.
Grinning, Kurt tucks his head back onto Blaine's shoulder, ignoring the rain. "You know I do."
The mood at dinner that night had been bittersweet. There had been lots of photos taken, boys moving back and forth between the two tables to chat, speeches made by Mr. Price that almost put them to sleep, and sharing of food that they wouldn't get when back at Dalton Academy. Kurt had sampled Blaine's steak tartare (and there would never be enough time in all of eternity for the jokes he could make from that one), and shared his lemon tart for dessert with Kendrick. Carole had taken family photos, and when she'd told Blaine to join in on the one with Kurt and Finn so that she could have one of all "my boys together", Blaine's smile had faltered slightly, his eyes shining just a little more than usual for a few brief moments. Kurt had taken his hand as they sat back down and just held it.
Now, Kurt finds himself in a bit of a quandary.
He honestly can't decide if he likes to be in control best, or if he prefers Blaine to be in control.
He's lying there on the bed, staring up at the low ceiling as Blaine's mouth is attached to his neck, doing all kinds of amazingly delicious things that make Kurt squirm and gasp, and maybe on occasion ask for him to do it again. Blaine is stretched out over the top of him, and Kurt's shirt is pushed up past his belly, and Blaine's hands keep sliding over his skin. He feels like he's on fire. Especially when Blaine's leg slips between Kurt's legs, and then his thigh presses upwards and—Kurt's brain momentarily short circuits.
Yes. He honestly can't decide. And he supposes that means there will have to be hundreds, and possibly thousands of necessary attempts at research on the subject.
Closing his eyes, Kurt's arms wrap around Blaine's shoulders, and he thrust his hips upwards experimentally, smiling when Blaine makes a low noise and moves against him. Blaine's jacket and tie are gone, and his shirt is half unbuttoned (Kurt knows because he unbuttoned it), and they'd both ended up taking off their shoes because Blaine had made a comment when they got to the room about the damage Kurt could do to him if he kicked him. Sometimes one of Blaine's socked feet will rub against Kurt's, and honestly, it's one of the most intimate things he's ever felt.
This could seriously go on forever, he thinks.
Holden and Finn were watching football in the casino with a bunch of the others, including Kurt's dad. They'd made the decision to go back to Blaine's room because there is less of a chance of Carole, or his dad if he leaves the game early, stopping by to knock on his door. There'd been a brief debate regarding the Do Not Disturb sign, which they finally decided to leave off because, wow, if there were even any indication of what was going on behind the door…
Missing Blaine's mouth, Kurt turns his head, pulling his neck from Blaine's reach. And he's pleased when his boyfriend immediately catches on, licking his way into Kurt's mouth, shifting upwards against him as he leans up slightly on his hands. The movement angles their hips together just so, and Kurt's stomach tightens at the pressure of Blaine's cock rubbing through the material of their pants against his own. He gasps into Blaine's mouth, his fingers curling into the silk shirt beneath his hands as he alternately pulls Blaine closer and pushes up against him.
"Hang on," Blaine whispers, pulling away and Kurt tries to tug him back but Blaine bats at his hands. "Hang on," he says again, leaning over the edge of the bed, and he's grabbing Kurt's messenger bag, digging through it until he pulls his hand out triumphantly. He leans just slightly off of Kurt elbows planted firmly in the mattress as he turns the phone off and tosses it onto the nightstand.
Kurt smiles as Blaine moves back over him, looking quite proud of himself. "Now, where were we?" Blaine asks.
When he starts to lean back down, Kurt pushes against his chest, sitting up as he forces Blaine to sit back on his calves. The position is actually really kind of hot now that they're in it, Kurt's legs splayed on the bed with Blaine straddling his lap. Blaine, who is just sitting there, gazing at him, eyes slightly darker than usual, brow furrowed a bit with an unspoken question. Grabbing the edge of his own shirt, Kurt lifts it up and pulls it off over his head, tossing it to the floor.
"Kurt," Blaine begins as Kurt reaches for the last few buttons on his shirt, his voice filled with that warning tone that Kurt has gotten to know a little too well. He places a hand over Kurt's to still them.
"I just want to feel you against me," Kurt explains, looking up at Blaine. "I promise—nothing below the belt."
Because they'd had no performances left, there had been no need to wear their uniforms. Blaine had left Kurt positively speechless when he'd stopped by his stateroom that night wearing a dark blue Armani suit tailored perfectly to fit his trim form with white shirt and contrasting black tie. For his own outfit, he'd chosen something simple: stark black skinny jeans with hid Doc Martens and a white bondage shirt. He's fairly certain he'd chosen wisely if the way Blaine had looked at him from head to toe when he'd opened the door had been any indication. Ever since then, Kurt knows the looks they've exchanged with one another could only lead to where they are now.
Blaine stares at him for a long moment, and when he gently pries Kurt's fingers from his shirt, Kurt doesn't bother suppressing the sigh of disappointment. Then Blaine is carefully undoing the buttons himself, watching Kurt with a small smile as he works his way down his dress shirt. And wow, that's ridiculously hot, Kurt thinks as Blaine slowly slips the shirt off of his shoulders, dragging it down his arms and finally tossing it to the floor.
Kurt arches an eyebrow at him. "Were you a stripper in a past life or something?"
Blaine just pushes him back against the bed, following him down to capture his mouth in a deep kiss once more, and this time Kurt knows there aren't going to be any alarms going off to stop them. It's alternately exhilarating and terrifying to know that for the first time in his life, he's going to be getting off not only without the use of his hand, but with someone else there. Someone who loves him, someone who seems to want him, and wants to be with him like this. It's almost overwhelming, but then Blaine's whispering Kurt's name into his mouth and his hands are sliding along Kurt's waist, grabbing his hips, pulling him closer as they thrust against each other. Suddenly, Kurt can't think of anything but this.
Blaine keeps whispering Kurt's name, mouth moving away from his to return to his neck, his shoulder, down to the hollow between his neck and chest. The skin of their chests doesn't slide so much as pull and catch as Blaine moves against him, and Kurt wraps his own arms around Blaine's waist, flattening his hands against his back, trying to pull him closer, even though it's impossible. He leans up to nip at Blaine's earlobe, remembering how Blaine had responded to that the day before, and he's rewarded when Blaine bucks against him, his thrusts a little more frantic and needy.
Kurt's so hard it hurts. He brings his knees up, digging his heels into the mattress as he ruts up against his boyfriend, fingers tangling in Blaine's curls, tugging him back to kiss him. Blaine seems more than happy to devour his mouth, sucking on his lower lip as Kurt whimper his name, and fuck, why didn't anyone tell him frottage felt like this?
He gasps Blaine's name as the kiss ends, and his boyfriend's face just hovers there above him, gazing down as they both continue to scramble for that delicious friction between them. Kurt swallows, feeling his groin tighten, and he's pulling on Blaine's curls now, he knows, and he should probably stop but he's so close, so close—
And then Blaine's hand is between them, and his palm is pressing and rubbing through the fabric along the length of Kurt's cock, and that's all it takes. Kurt's coming with something like a choked sob escaping him, and Blaine's head is pressed into his shoulder as his thrusts become more erratic and—
And, oh god. His boyfriend just got him off. His boyfriend just got him off.
Kurt barely registers at what point Blaine finally stills against him. His fingers continue to curl against the back of Blaine's head—curl and release, curl and release—and he's not certain his heart is ever going to stop beating so fast. Part of him protests the deadweight of Blaine's body that is sinking against him; the other part never wants Blaine to move. Kurt feels a cross between out of sorts and completely amazing. He thinks this might all be a dream; it feels like a dream. His head doesn't even feel like it's attached to his body anymore.
At some point—it could be minutes or hours since he came—Kurt feels Blaine's lips moving softly against his shoulder. That's when it occurs to him that his heart is finally beating normally, and Blaine's weight is getting to be a little too much, and ugh, he really needs to get out of these pants.
"You're getting heavy," Kurt says softly, pulling his hands from Blaine's hair to push against his shoulders.
Blaine leans up and smiles down at him he shifts his body next to Kurt's. "And this is where I discover you are not the type to cuddle."
Kurt rolls his eyes as he moves to get up. "You have wet skinny jeans plastered to your balls and tell me how much you'd be in the mood to cuddle."
He ignores Blaine's laughter behind him as he opens the closet door, using it as a screen as he strips out of his jeans and underwear, and slides on his pajama bottoms. He tucks the dirty clothes away in the laundry bag, and shuts the door. Blaine is stretched out on his back on the bed, arm tucked behind his head, eyes closed. Kurt just stares at him for a long moment, a sort of awe sweeping through him as one immutable fact swims through his head: this is the boy I'm going to have sex with. The thought is a little staggering, but Kurt fully believes it's true. It certainly won't be happening tonight and more than likely not for a good long while—and he's perfectly okay with that. But just the knowing, knowing that someday there's going to be so much more than frotting against one another in skinny jeans, is incredible.
When he crawls back on to the bed, Blaine's eyes open, and he smiles at Kurt with that same slow, almost sleepy smile that always makes him feel like he's melting inside. "Now are you ready to cuddle?"
Smiling, Kurt lies down beside him, laying his head on the crook of Blaine's shoulder as Blaine's arm wraps around him, pulling him close. "So, this is what you meant by taking it slow, right?"
Blaine's arm squeezes a little too tight. "Shut up. You looked hot tonight. What am I supposed to do when my boyfriend wears a freakin' bondage shirt around me?"
Kurt giggles. "I'll keep that in mind. Maybe next time I'll wear the shirt and the shorts together and –
" He squeaks as Blaine rolls him over, trapping him beneath his body once more. Kurt isn't complaining; he positively loves the feel of Blaine's bare skin against his.
"You're such a brat," Blaine says with a big smile before tucking his head against Kurt's neck and kissing it softly. He whispers against his skin, "What am I going to do with you?"
"Love me?" Kurt feels his face flame the moment he says it.
Blaine lifts his head, gazing down into Kurt's eyes, and honestly, he doesn't have to say the words because Kurt can see it. Everything is written there in the soft look in his eyes, and the gentle curve of the smile on his lips.
"You know I do," he whispers.
And Kurt does.
The music is loud enough that anyone outside of the 2010 yellow Camaro could hear the thrumming of the bass from inside. The windows actually appear to be vibrating.
Not that Kurt or Blaine seems to notice. They're singing along with Britney, each voice vying to be heard over the din, and occasionally vying to hit a particularly spectacular note to impress the other. Kurt's dancing to the beat in the passenger seat, making the most he can out of the confined space, while beside him at the wheel Blaine frequently steps on the brake to the beat of the music before shimmying in his seat.
"Gimme something good
Don't wanna wait I want It now (na-na-now)"
"Hey! Don't take your hands off the wheel," Kurt gently scolds before he goes back to singing.
"Pop it like a hood
And show me how you work It out"
"But I'm dancing!"
"If I said my heart was beating loud"
"Yes, and you're going to dance us right into oncoming traffic."
"If I said I want your body now"
"But my boyfriend fixed the alignment in this thing a few weeks ago—"
"Would you hold it against me"
"Yes and my boyfriend has repeatedly hit potholes and driven over curbs throughout these last few weeks. The alignment is more than likely shot again."
"Nah ah. Look!" Blaine lets go of the wheel, raising his hands above his head in beat to the music.
"If I said my heart was beating loud
If we could escape the crowd somehow"
"If you crash your car, I just want you to know, I don't do bodywork."
"If I said I want your body now
Would you hold it against me"
Blaine has to grab the wheel now because he's laughing. "That's what she said!"
Kurt gives his a boyfriend a look before they both join in with Britney:
"Cause you feel like paradise
I need a vacation tonight
So if I said I want your body now
Would you hold it against me"
The song comes to an end as Blaine pulls into the driveway of the Hudson-Hummel's home. Kurt's still singing the words under his breath as he leans forward to disconnect his iPod, while beside him Blaine shuts off the engine, slipping his keys into the pocket of his wool coat. When Kurt looks up, he finds his boyfriend gazing at him with a look Kurt has come to know well in the past month. It always makes Kurt's heart beat a little faster, the air fighting to make its way through his lungs while his skin flushes with warmth at all the implications Blaine's eyes are giving him.
And oh, how he hates that Blaine is doing this to him now, of all the inconvenient times.
"Stop it," he says, holding his palm up in front of his boyfriend's face. "Don't even think about it. Not only do we have a football game to attend, but we also happen to be in the driveway of my parent's home."
As usual, Blaine really isn't listening to him. His fingers are wrapped around Kurt's wrist and he's pressing light kisses against Kurt's palm, making his way up to his fingertips, and then sucking gently on each one as he stares at Kurt.
"I hate you so much right now," he groans, and Blaine takes that for the invitation that it is, launching himself across the seat at Kurt.
Kurt can't stop the noise of pleasure that escapes as Blaine licks his way into his mouth, climbing over the stick shift in between them and pressing Kurt up against the door. The armrest is digging into his back, and the glass is hard on his head, but his boyfriend is pretty much attempting to suck his tonsils out, and his hands are slipping up inside Kurt's sweater, and everything is perfect. He thinks, we can just go somewhere—I'll call dad and tell him we have a flat and we'll be late. After all, making out with his boyfriend in the car is preferable to any football game, championship or no. He's only going to support his old classmates and his brother, and because his boyfriend loves football, but he loves having his boyfriend's tongue in his mouth, so maybe they should all have to sacrifice this time for his happiness.
Sliding his fingers through Blaine's curls, he tugs a little, and Blaine's practically in his lap now, and that's perfectly fine by him. He doesn't even care anymore that they're sitting in his car in the driveway of his parent's house—there's something about Blaine singing along to Hold It Against Me that just… yeah.
As Blaine's mouth slips away from his, moving over his jaw and down his neck, and there's a scrape of teeth and a swipe of tongue and Kurt squirms at the sensations, eyes fluttering open briefly to notice the windows are now all fogged up. Good. No one can see them.
This has pretty much been his life over the last three weeks that they've been back in Ohio. Sneaking whatever little moments they can when a roommate is away or there's an empty common room to be found, or even tucked in the back of the library, hiding among the books. They've spent more than a few dates cramped in the back of Blaine's Camaro, stretched out across the leather seats, legs tangled together. Kurt has discovered he likes Blaine's idea of "taking it slow" because it actually means just repeating a lot of things again and again and again until they both feel comfortable with it.
They have some things honed to perfection.
Like now, as Kurt feels Blaine's fingers drift along the edge of his stomach, fingering just lightly at the waist of his jeans, he knows his boyfriend is asking silent permission. All he does is kind of whisper Blaine's name into his mouth, and then Blaine's fingers are working at the belt, tugging it loose, popping the button and sliding the zipper down. And then, oh, Blaine's fingers are wrapping around his dick, and Kurt's damn certain at this point in time that's a sensation he is never going to get used to. The first time he'd experienced it had been just a little over a week earlier, and it doesn't matter that he's felt it five times since then, he honestly doesn't think it could be possible to feel it too much.
"God, Kurt," Blaine breathes against him. "You are so amazing. I just… I want to…"
He doesn't finish the sentence because neither of them really can just yet. Kurt just nods, and says, "Yeah, I know," into his mouth.
Blaine's hand continues to slide along the length of his cock, and Kurt wants to return the favor, but with the way he's plastered against the door, it's kind of difficult to get his arms and hands in the right position. Blaine doesn't seem to mind, though, and Kurt has every intention of returning the favor the moment he has a chance. For now he just lets himself enjoy this, thrusting up into Blaine's grip, panting against his boyfriend's mouth, and—
Bap. Bap. Bap.
They both kind of squeal at the unexpected and loud rapping against the window behind Kurt's head, pulling apart and staring at the blurred figure on the other side of the fogged glass. Slipping his hand out of Kurt's pants, Blaine leans over and wipes at the glass with the sleeve of his coat. And there's Burt Hummel, peering in at them, effectively providing Kurt with the best boner killer the world has ever seen. He's giving them that expression—the one Carol fondly, and oh-so-aptly refers to as the "Blaine, I like you, but there's a line and you're crossing it" look. Of course Blaine, being his sometimes oblivious and ridiculously easy-going self, bounds back into his seat, somehow fully composed, and pushes the driver's side door open as he practically bounces out.
"Good evening, Burt! Looking forward to the game?"
Kurt rolls his eyes as somehow Blaine draws his dad into a conversation about the game and not about ravishing his teenage son in the driveway. He uses the distraction to redress himself before pulling down the visor to check his hair in the mirror, making certain each strand is back in place. Finally satisfied that he doesn't look as if he was about to have a very happy moment in the front seat of his boyfriend's car in his parent's drive, he joins his dad and boyfriend outside. Blaine is telling Burt about the A Kurt got on his calculus exam this week, bragging about him like maybe he's Kurt's dad.
And great. Now he wants to scrub his brain with bleach.
Blaine smiles at Kurt as he reaches them, giving him a brief wink that makes Kurt want to alternately smack his boyfriend upside the head, and tackle him to the ground, to hell with what his dad might see him do.
"Hi, boys!" Carole calls out from the doorway where she is digging through her purse, apparently looking for her house keys.
"Hey, Carole!" Blaine waves and sprints away from Burt and Kurt to make his way over to her. He takes her purse, holding it closer to the porch light for her so she can dig through it properly.
"I gotta tell ya, Kurt," his dad begins as they both watch Blaine say something to Carole that sends her into peals of laughter. "Sometimes I think that boyfriend of yours just ain't right." The thing is, his dad's kind of smiling as he says it, watching as Blaine then grabs Carol into a big hug.
"You adore him, Dad."
"Let's not go too far, huh?" But his dad gives him a smile. He calls out, "Let's get going, you two. We've got a game to get to."
Burt pulls out the keys to the minivan that he grudgingly conceded to Carole they should have, and makes his way over to the driver's side. They had decided during the week to drive together since it would be silly to take Blaine's car when they were spending the weekend at the house after the game anyway.
Kurt waits in the driveway for Blaine to return to him. He reaches out to fix the collar of Blaine's coat that had apparently been pushed up when he'd hugged Carole. It makes Kurt think of a time almost four months earlier when Blaine had done the same for him before singing to him, and stealing his heart.
Leaning in close, Blaine whispers in his ear, "Wow! That was a close one, huh?"
"You're lucky you have that whole charming thing down pat," Kurt says, slipping his arm through Blaine's as they make their way over to the van. "Though I do hope you realize my dad sees right through it."
"I guess I'm really lucky to have you here to save me, then." Blaine smiles, pulling Kurt close when they reach the side door, and leaning in to kiss him softly.
Returning the smile, Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's shoulders—ignoring his dad's shout at them to stop hanging all over each other and get in the damn car—and steals another brief kiss. "Oh no, Blaine Anderson, you've got that one all wrong. I'm lucky to have you here to save me."
They might have stayed right there in the driveway, clinging to each other all night long, if Burt didn't start laying on the car horn. And Kurt only acquiesces because of his certainty there will be plenty of nights like this one to come.