A/N: Within this chapter you will find smut. You've been warned.
This was it.
It was March, six months since he'd gone to Dalton, six months since he'd met Wes, David, Thad, Flint, Trent, Jeff, Nick, and Blaine. Six months since he'd sung with his glee club friends. Six months since he'd hugged Mercedes. Six months since he'd seen most of his closet.
Six months since his life began to change.
Their goodbyes had been anything but calm. Trent was taking pictures and promising to call and organizing weekends when they could meet up. Jeff and Nick were standing a little too close to each other as they said goodbye to everyone. Kurt was starting to suspect—
But then Blaine wrapped an arm around his waist and he was done suspecting.
"Hello, gorgeous," he whispered.
They stared at each other for a moment before Kurt hugged him tightly, burying his face in the shorter boy's neck. "I'm only going to be an hour and half away."
"I know," Kurt said, the sound muffled slightly. He stood back, keeping his hands in fists by his side. "You're going to call me, right?"
"And text and IM and face chat and visit and all of the above," Blaine said, leaning in for a small kiss. However, the small kiss turned into a bigger kiss and then they were holding each other for a kiss that lasted what felt like hours.
"Okay, okay, break it up," Thad interrupted, grabbed the back of Blaine's jacket. "Get off, you horny bastard."
Blaine chuckled, separating from the kiss. Yes, it was true—for the last few months of their captivity, they'd been practically inseparable. It had taken a long time for them to come to their senses and it was only natural that they would be held up in one of their rooms during every free moment they had, but that actually wasn't what had been happening. Mostly, they spent time in the rec room. Blaine would hold him while he read or while they watched a movie and then much later, they'd go back to Blaine's room—David was always with Wes, his heterosexual life partner—and spend a while on Blaine's bed saying goodnight.
"Alright, here's the deal: if anyone loses touch with anyone, they are punishable by public embarrassment by the rest of us, yes?"
Kurt laughed. "Oh, yes. Definitely."
"Good." Thad grinned. "Come here, Porcelain." As he pulled Kurt into a hug, he said, "You let me know if Blaine treats you wrong, yeah? And I'm expecting a phone call the second you lose your virginity."
"I have a feeling that would ruin the moment, Thad."
The other boys said goodbye as well and soon their parents were there and the only people left in the hall were Blaine and Kurt.
"How are you getting home?"
Blaine shrugged. "Call a cab, I guess. What about you?"
"My glee club friends are picking me up." Kurt threw his arms around Blaine's neck lightly, content to just stand with him as long as they close. "They should be here any second."
"So you should probably go outside."
"Or we could make a real quick dash upstairs just for a second—"
"You really are a horny bastard."
Blaine chuckled. "Kidding, love."
Kurt pulled him in for a kiss. "Thank you," he whispered, their foreheads resting together.
"Being exactly what I needed."
"You know you're really sappy, right?"
"Would it make you feel better if I started making lewd comments about you riding my motorcycle?"
"Y'know what?" Kurt laughed. "I think it actually might. Because that's the guy I fell for. I can't believe I actually have a thing for bad boys."
"As long as I'm the only one."
"Sweetheart, I don't meet parents."
It was two weeks since the last time they'd seen each other and they'd gone out to lunch and a movie and now they were going back to Kurt's house. They pulled into the driveway as Blaine gave his reasoning:
"I don't make good impressions."
"You can worry about that later; they won't be home for awhile. Come here—I have something to show you."
Blaine threw an arm around Kurt as they walked away from the car, but Kurt led them towards the garage. "What are we doing, love?"
"I told you. It's a surprise." Kurt punched in the key for the door to go sliding open and immediately jumped behind Blaine, something coming over to cover his eyes.
"Hush, you. It's just an old Dalton tie."
"Is it the tie we hung on the doorknob so David wouldn't come in while we were—"
"Wow, I love you."
Kurt led him into the garage and tugged on the knot of the tie. "Don't peak."
"Wouldn't dare. But what exactly are you doing?"
Kurt didn't answer. Blaine stood there for a few minutes, hands in his pockets, whistling absentmindedly.
"Okay. You can look now."
Blaine hurriedly yanked the tie off his eyes and ran a hand through his hair before looking up. "Uh… Kurt?"
"Why exactly—not that I'm complaining of course—are you wearing that?"
Kurt grinned, looking down at his combat boots, skinny jeans, and leather jacket. He had a cigarette stuck behind one ear and was standing next to—
"Is that my bike?"
"Nope. Yours is still in your garage at home. This is my motorcycle."
"You…you bought a motorcycle?"
"A guy at my dad's shop was selling it really cheap. Bought it, fixed it up—"
"You know how to repair motorcycles?"
"Of course. You don't get to be a mechanic's son without learning a few things. I work on cars all the time—Blaine!" Kurt laughed as Blaine's hands grabbed the front of Kurt's jacket, pulling him close for a devastatingly hot kiss. "We can't do this out here."
"Sure we can, beautiful. Close the garage door and let's recreate the very first time I gave you an orgasm."
Kurt kissed him again. "Shit, Blaine—you can't just say stuff like that."
"Of course we have moved pretty far past rushed handjobs, haven't we? I'd say actual sex is the next logical step, wouldn't you? So how do you want to do it? On the bike? On the ground? Against a wall? Do you want me inside you?"
"Or maybe you inside me? You like being in control—I know. Hell, we could have me sit in your lap on the bike—God, isn't that a thought—"
That was it. Kurt kissed him hard, clutching him like a lifeline. "Sorry to ruin the kinky stuff," he panted, "but I think I need a bed for my first real time."
"Lead the way."
It was a race. First into the house, then up the stairs, into the room, to the bed. And then a race towards nakedness. They'd done this enough to know what buttons to press, what places to lick, when to kiss, when to hold back—
"Kurt," he groaned. "That out there—that was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"Don't tell me you have a bad boy kink," Kurt said, grabbing Blaine's shoulders and rolling the older boy on top of him. "Because I don't smoke—and I don't know how to drive that thing."
"Oh, don't worry. I'll teach you how to drive," he rasped. His hands began at Kurt's ankles, going up his legs, over his hips, his chest, flicking his nipples.
"Why… Guh, why do I get the feeling that… That we're…we're not talking about the bike anymore?" Kurt moaned, arching his hips off the bed.
"Were we ever?"
"Hell if I know—touch me, Blaine. Please!" His fingers dug into Blaine's shoulder. "Please, Blaine!"
"Wow, I'm sorry—I just had déjà vu."
Kurt made a noise, grabbing Blaine's hands. One of them he curled with his own while the other he helped wrap around himself, leading Blaine in the first few strokes.
"Do you want me inside you, Kurt?"
The noise ripped from his throat was half sob, half groan. "This… This isn't going to last!"
"I know. But I'll be right here the whole time."
Kurt realized soon that this really was the whole point of everything—not sex, although he did momentarily wonder between the moment Blaine was preparing him and the moment they connected why people didn't do this all the damn time. The point was that they loved each other and they were going to be together for a really, really long time. This—them—was exactly what he needed. He could survive the bullies, he could survive being unappreciated and unnoticed. He could survive anything. Because he had Blaine.
"Kurt," Blaine gasped, his hips snapping desperately.
Kurt couldn't speak. The only sounds coming out of his mouth were indistinct moans and grunts and whines and Blaine's name, over and over.
It was… It was too…
And then Blaine grabbed the flesh jutting against his stomach and Kurt was working with him, their hips moving in synch, their tongues and lips trying to fit together, their breath mingling.
God, it was too good for words and it was surely going to be the death of him.
"Blaine!" he cried. "Oh, God, yes!"
By the time they collapsed together moments later—Blaine only letting himself go after Kurt did—they were practically boneless. Kurt felt dizzy and like he couldn't quite see straight and Blaine was breathing like he'd just come back from the brink of death.
Blaine lifted his head from Kurt's shoulder, smiling. "Well."
"Maybe I should wear that jacket more often?"
"I think I might need the cigarette you had behind your ear earlier."
"It's probably somewhere under our clothes." Kurt laughed joyously. "Oh, my God. We had sex."
"We've been having sex for a while, love."
"You know what I mean. Real sex. We've never done it… Not like that. Never like that." He pulled Blaine in for a deep kiss, their tongues battling it out lazily. "I love you."
"You too." Sighing happily, he nuzzled Kurt's neck. "And as nice of a moment as this is, I really feel disgusting right now. How about a shower?"
"I don't know if I can move."
Blaine opened his mouth to say something—probably something about carrying his damsel in distress into the bathroom—when they heard it:
"Hey, Kurt, are you home—whoa!" Finn jumped.
Kurt squeaked and jerked, almost kneeing Blaine in the crotch as they gathered the sheet around themselves. "Go away, Finn!"
"Your dad wanted me to—"
The gangly football player nodded, nearly tripping over himself as he left the doorway and raced down the stairs.
Kurt buried his face in his hands, the sheet pooling around his hips. Blaine chuckled deeply. "Wow," he whispered. He held the sheet over his waist with one hand while the other ran through his hair. "That was awkward."
"I'm dead, I'm dead; I'm so, so dead."
"Kurt, if anyone's dead, it's me. This is precisely the reason I don't meet the family."
"Right well we're getting through this together so get dressed."
Blaine hummed slightly. "Well… I don't think anyone will be coming up here any time soon, so maybe—"
"I hate you sometimes."
"But I'm really good in bed. So you can't."
"My dad has a gun, you know."
"You think we can escape out the window?"
Kurt grinned. "Wanna take the bike?"
"You read my mind, gorgeous."
A/N: Thank you ALL so much for everything! Sad to see this story end, but so thankful that you've all been so amazing:D Over 100 reviews!
Love forever and ever and ever,
E. M. Zeray