Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.

"The - the making out, the kissing, the - the frotting in the backseat of a car, does it mean anything to you?"

Blaine whispers, hands curled so tightly against Kurt's back that he doesn't dare let go. He's been skeptical ever since Kurt dragged him into the car and all but pounced on him after a few hurried assurances that of course he didn't mind, everything was fine, and - are you sure? I mean, we don't have to, we can wait, it's fine - Blaine, please, I've missed you so much - I've missed you, too - and I need you - Kurt - I need you and we're friends now, remember? It's fine, that's what we wanted - it's - it's what we wanted, right - right - righ-mm.

"Of course it meant something," Kurt breathes, nuzzling under his jaw in a way that he knows sends shivers down his spine. It's incredibly vulnerable, letting this brave new Kurt into his life, sudden and certain and willing, so damn eager that it rocks Blaine to his core. He'd expected coolness and distance and even a little awkwardness between them, not edginess the entire drive over and a splintered conversation before they were making out in the backseat of a car.

And not just making out, either, but digging hands into clothes, all but tearing them apart in a mad rush to just climb higher and higher and hi-iiiiigher until at last something shattered, some last barrier crumpled that would let them be together again forever.

It was exhilarating, if nothing else, heads swimming, hands fumbling, breathless laughter and heated comments building until Blaine was at least eighty percent certain he was going to pass out. Kurt was so close, everywhere, and he could smell him and taste him and feel him and if Kurt stopped a part of his soul would have died.

He wavered, pulling up from a passionate kiss that left Blaine's head reeling to point out, "Had I known I was going to get groped in the back of a Prius, I would have brought a change of clothes. I'm going to go in there looking like prom, the morning after."

Blaine shook his head frantically, because he didn't want to think about Kurt having second thoughts now, not when Kurt had been so close to just letting go with him and letting it all lie in the past and really be done with it and -

"Wait, what am I doing? I'm sort of dating someone in New York."

Blaine groaned softly. "You're not in New York, and it's not exclusive, right?" It couldn't have been - not when Kurt had asked him if he wanted to spend a little quality time before the wedding in the first place - but he couldn't help but ask it as a question. It just seemed so ... so surreal that Kurt would want to be so close to him, let alone make out with him, actual grinding and breathless kissing and groping, needing hands wandering everywhere.

When Kurt looked at him with questioning eyes, he'd slid his hand down to give his hand a single quick squeeze, wanting to reassure him somehow. Kurt didn't pull away, didn't climb off him and leave the car in disgust, instead staring down, waiting to be convinced. Emboldened, Blaine added, "You and this fake bowtie? It's my kryptonite."

That was all it took before Kurt was leaning down and kissing him, hard, and Blaine couldn't breathe but it was perfect, so perfect, and he didn't want to ever breathe again if it meant he had to let go of Kurt -

"Wait, this doesn't mean that we're back together, right?"

Blaine would have agreed with anything, then, anything to keep Kurt from pulling back from him and losing that bright-eyed, breathless look., anxiously asserting that, "No, I know. I know, I know, it's cool."

He doesn't know why Kurt didn't argue more at first, only noticing the slightly jittery way that Kurt insists that they're just friends, they're not back together, it's just -

"This is just bros helping bros."

He didn't know where it came from, then, but Kurt had given him such a sultry smile and a soft Oh, I love it when you talk fratty that Blaine hadn't even needed to apologize for the absurdity of the comment, lurching up to pull him into another kiss, moaning when he just went with him, falling down so that both their hands were exploring and Blaine really didn't know what to expect or what he should expect except that he never wanted it to end.

And then of course Mercedes had to knock on the window and Blaine could have cried from sheer frustration. He could have, but he didn't, instead tipping his head back to look at her, staring uncomprehendingly, unabashedly, hoping that maybe she would take the hint and let them finish what they had started. Tina had, at least, stalking off after two fruitless attempts to interrupt them. From what, Blaine couldn't be certain.

He'd felt almost drunk on lust as Kurt climbed off him and hurried out of the car, skittering over to Mercedes' side while Blaine tentatively did the same. It wasn't like they weren't together, he concedes, swaying along with Kurt, or that they were. They were just - finding themselves, that was all. Testing the waters and finding a mutual like, a mutual pleasure that they could exploit now that they were friends, they were done with dreading the past and future alike, ready to move forward and be intimate again. It was a refreshing, exhilarating feeling after months of struggle and desire and self-loathing, wondering if it would be better to try and move on from Kurt or redouble his efforts to win his trust over again. In the end, he'd let Kurt take the lead, hoping that maybe then he would be able to decide if Kurt chose to move on without him.

The thought had haunted him, though, the idea of Kurt kissing another man, making out with him, even, before light making out turned into full on grinding and then -

A soft nip on his neck makes him groan, his head tilting back a little involuntarily as Kurt laves the skin apologetically. "Y-you didn't answer my question," Blaine insists huskily at last, one hand tangling in the hairs at the back of Kurt's neck.

"You didn't answer mine," Kurt breathes back, peppering his throat with kisses. "They paid for hotel rooms for all the couples, and since Ms. Pillsbury never got around to deciding which couples slept where..." He shrugs once, eloquently.

Blaine groans, giving his head a gentle, solid tug, pulling him up so that they can look at each other. "You want to - "

"I want to be with you," Kurt agrees, kissing him.

"But you don't want to be my boyfriend."

Kurt's expression falters, his fingers trailing along Blaine's shoulders slowly. "I thought we already discussed this," he says at last, quietly.

"We discussed whether or not it would be rude to skip the wedding for a quickie in the back of my car," Blaine corrects reflexively.

Kurt's ears pink, his expression suddenly sheepish as he says, "We wouldn't have."

"We couldn't have," Blaine agrees. "I'm fairly positive that Mercedes would have stepped in, if nothing else." He rests his chin on Kurt's shoulder, letting his cheek rest against Kurt's, feeling him relax. "I like this," he says at last, softly, not daring to break the gentle barrier of peace around them. "I like being ... close to you."

"I like it, too," Kurt echoes, tilting his head to kiss his cheek. "I missed you."

Blaine's throat constricts, a lump forming until for a moment he fears he won't be able to respond. At last, he manages a quiet, "Me, too," as he lets Kurt take the lead, swaying to his rhythm.

The evening passes in a blur of semi-legal cocktails and dances and stolen kisses, Kurt's breath always hot and near Blaine's throat or mouth as they sway together, leaning against each other more oft than not. Blaine notices the slight edge of desperation to Kurt's grasp, the way he clings to him in a way that bespeaks a different urgency, a need to confirm something that he can't quite understand. They want each other, Blaine knows, but there is a part of Kurt that looks at him with critical eyes and wonders.

Looks at the possibility from both sides. Sees a potential for heartbreak and pain and disappointment.

But Kurt doesn't pull away, shuffling closer whenever Blaine thinks he might be drifting off, tightening his grip whenever it seems to be lax. It's relaxing, having Kurt so close, their entire bodies pressed against each other, incredibly intimate and yet somehow wholly on display. They're keenly aware of the people around them, expectations and realities that can't be denied. Still, Blaine knows that he isn't the only one that can feel the electricity, the growing need between them, becoming more and more pronounced with each passing moment.

Just when Blaine is about to cave and suggest that they go out to the car for another quick go in the backseat, Kurt quips, "Let's go," and Blaine wordlessly follows as he leads them out of the main ballroom and down the hallways towards their room.

It's quiet, almost painfully so, but Blaine doesn't feel disquieted or edgy because of it. All he's truly aware of are Kurt's hand in his and the distance separating them between their room, a final no man's land to be crossed.

He knows that he could break away, that he could stop and tell Kurt that he doesn't want an 'open' relationship where anything goes. They're friends, and they have needs, but ... they're adults, too. They can handle those.

But when Kurt finally pauses long enough to slide the key in their door and tug it open, Blaine doesn't stop him, goes with him when he reaches out to grab his tie and pull him forward.

And afterwards, as they breathe and listen and laugh breathlessly between sleepy, sated kisses, Blaine can't help but wonder if ... maybe this is the best thing for them. Maybe they would be better off in just a no-strings-attached relationship where, without the obligation of exclusivity, they wouldn't have to tiptoe around their past and worry constantly about ruffled feathers.

They could have sex like this all the time, he realizes, scratching lightly at the middle of Kurt's bare back as he sleeps, curled against Blaine's chest. They could make out in the backs of their cars without having to ask why other than it feels good and they're friends, they know that they love each other and that's all that matters, they don't need to play any greater role in each other's lives except -

Except Blaine wants that, wants to be something more to Kurt. And he knows that Kurt does, too, even if he's hiding it, denying it.

He wants exclusivity. He wants closeness, intimacy, trust.

And as Blaine slowly drifts off to sleep, his hand stilling against Kurt's spine, he can't help but think that even if this isn't the end of their battle, even if it isn't the end-all-fix-all solution, it's still progress.

Kurt wants him. And he wants Kurt, too.

And if he has to accept that they still have to fight for their relationship, that it isn't enough to simply accept that their past is behind them and they can do whatever they please now -

Then he's willing to fight for Kurt.