Kurt woke up first, feeling a streak of sunlight warming his face. He could almost see it, he thought, but that was probably his imagination. The only time he could see now was in his dreams. His dreams. They tended to be either wild, vivid splashes of color, sometimes with a curly-haired man that came to him and made him feel so good; or they were dark and had the blues and grays of a stormy ocean trying to drown him. A few times it was of his dad in the hospital room back in Lima, lying cold and unresponsive in the bed while Kurt held his hand for hour after hour after lonely hour with no change. He wondered if his dad was feeling like that now. In any case, the dream would always fade when he got up to start another day.

They had now been on the island, as best they could figure, about four months. Their diet was still consisting of coconuts, fish, seafood like crabs, clams, mussels and an occasional lobster or pineapple. Last month Kurt had been the one to find the mango tree. He could smell it and brought Blaine to see if it was indeed a mango. They ate so many that night, both had belly aches the next morning. They speculated that a seed had washed up on shore or a bird had dropped it since it was apparently the only one on the small atoll.

Kurt limped out of the shelter, stepping carefully because yesterday morning he had carelessly put his foot down on a hot coal from the fire and burned it. Blaine found an aloe plant and coated the burn, wrapping his sore foot in a bandage from the first aid kit. It was still very sore, but Kurt was able to walk on it again.

He felt around the “kitchen”, a space they had built shelves to keep their supplies and found the lobster from last night, a bunch of ripe bananas, and the ever-present coconuts. He set about cutting the food in pieces and placing it on the two tin plates they had found. Then finding his coffee can and Blaines tomato juice can, he filled them with water from the container they stored it in. The water was from the spring and was always sweet tasting. Kurt looked up towards the sky and sent a thank you to his mother who he believed might just be looking out for him.

It had been a week since Blaine had declared that he might be falling in love with Kurt and they hadnt gone back to the subject, although it had been on Kurts mind ever since. He rarely thought about anything else now, and it was burning a hole in him that he could not make up his mind what to do. He thought he loved Blaine, too, but he kept coming back to the same question. It was the crux of the whole thing, and he was determined to ask Blaine about it today.

“Morning, Kurt! Oh, I see you fixed breakfast. Thank you,” Blaine said, walking over to the boy and kissing him on the cheek.

“Morning to you, too, and you are entirely welcome,” Kurt said, holding out the plate of cold lobster, bananas, and coconut flakes. “Today were having French toast with maple syrup and an omelet with cheddar cheese and strips of bacon,” Kurt announced. It had become the running joke to think of a new breakfast item each morning and pretend they were eating it. Yesterday Blaine had said it was pancakes with chocolate chips. It made Kurts mouth water to think of those fluffy cakes in a stack on a china plate with a big, cold glass of milk.

“Oh, that sounds so good,” Blaine said, a faraway look in his eye. “When was the last time you had that?” he asked. It was part of the game.

“A week before my dad had his first heart attack,” Kurt answered. “We were eating at the local diner and I didnt want the meatloaf – which is what Dad was having. I got to looking at the menu and it said they served breakfast any time, so I ordered breakfast for dinner.”

“How was it?” Blaine asked, wanting every detail.

“Fine. I didnt appreciate it like I should have, but that can be said for most of what I ate in my lifetime,” Kurt reminisced. “We had been at the garage, Dad was working on a touchy carburetor rebuild and I had just finished the months inventory. We were both just exhausted and on the way home he pulled into that diner. It wasnt something we did very often, I usually cooked, but he could see how tired I was. It was so nice of him, and so typical of him to think of a way to make me happy. I miss my dad,” Kurt blinked back some emotional tears and coughed. “So, when was the last time you had chocolate chip pancakes?”

They hadnt played the game yesterday because Kurt had stepped on the coal after Blaine had chosen the pancake breakfast.

Blaine sat on the log and thought about the pancakes. He knew exactly when hed had them, but he wasnt sure if he wanted to talk about it. He was quiet for so long that Kurt finally walked over, feeling his way along the log before he sat down next to the man. He slipped his arms around Blaine and kissed his neck.

“Whats wrong?” he asked, feeling something wasnt right.

Blaine shook his head.

“Ah...nothing. I was thinking about the day I ate those pancakes. Its a sad memory I guess,” he said.

“Oh. Well, you dont have to tell me, why bring up bad memories? We can go walk on the beach if you want,” Kurt said, a little melancholy himself now.

“No...its something I probably need to tell you before we get in any deeper. Its a long, sad story and I dont know if youll feel the same way about me when I tell you – but, god, Kurt, I have to tell someone. Its eating me alive since it happened, and since you are the only one here......oh, damn it. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

Kurt took Blaines hand and silently led him back to the shelter, lying down and holding his arms up to the man. Blaine laid down beside him and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, pulling him close so Blaines back was against Kurts chest. He kissed his ear and laid his head down on the make-shift pillow.

“Okay, now tell me. Start at the beginning and tell me everything. I wont judge you, I promise,” Kurt said in a quiet and soothing voice. Blaine was comforted by Kurts actions and began to wonder who was the adult and who the child here.

“I became a doctor because I wanted to do something good in this world. I was bullied for being short, for my long hair, the color of my skin...but mostly for being gay. My parents put me in a private boys school before I came out to them. When I finally did, at the age of 15, they blamed themselves for making me gay. I tried to educate them, but they never believed me. I dont think they understand to this day. It wasnt as if they hated me, or wanted to get rid of me – no, it was more as if they blamed my sad and horrific condition on themselves.

“I got through high school and found I loved math and science, so I majored in biology in college, then turned to pre-med. I went to medical school in New York and interned in one of the busiest hospitals in the country, in the trauma surgery department. I was so burnt out in just a few years, I decided to switch to something else and there was an opening for a pediatric oncologist at New York Metro. I applied and got the job. I thought it would be hard work, but in the end I was helping little children who couldnt help themselves. And that is how it went: I was very good at my job, I had good communication with the kids and with the parents, I was able to treat a lot of children that wouldnt have a chance without the things I did for them,” Blaine continued. Kurt put his cheek to Blaines back, still listening but also hearing his heartbeat. It was a comforting sound and Kurt tightened his grip as Blaines heart sped up.

“It was a good fit. I was always sad when I lost a patient, but I knew I was going to have to face that if I was treating cancer. I was okay, for the most part. Sad sometimes, but there was always another kid that needed me. I got a promotion and it seemed like everyone liked me.

“Then I met Brooklyn. She was seven and had a form of leukemia. Shed been battling it for four years, in remission and out of remission, more procedures, more chemo, more radiation. She just kept bouncing back and I had high hopes that she might beat the odds. I was so proud of myself the last time she finished a round of chemo. But it had destroyed part of her colon and Id had to do a partial colonectomy – I removed part of her intestine and she had a colostomy bag. She was a trouper, though. This little six year old smiled and joked and showed the world that she was a fighter. She didnt hold back when I had to teach her how to take care of the tubes and things. She never complained about anything. When I could see the pain in every inch of her body – her face sweating with the strain not to cry, her arms shaking with the determination of keeping the pain at bay - all she would say was that she was uncomfortable. It would break your heart.

“One night, I was in the hospital seeing a patient that had just been admitted and I happened to walk by Brookes room. She was alone, which didnt happen often. She was crying, which happened even less. I slipped in the room and took her in my arms. I knew doctors werent supposed to get that close to their patients, but she was my special girl. She stopped crying immediately, of course, and laid her head on my shoulder. I gathered her up, sat down in the chair beside her bed rocked her until I thought she had fallen asleep, but she wasnt. She whispered to me that she was tired of fighting. She didnt want to have any more procedures or medication or anything. She knew it wasnt her decision, it was her parents, but she wanted me to know how she felt.

“I stayed with her for a while until she fell asleep. Then I went home and for the first time, I cried over a patient because I had caused that – all that pain and stress and heartbreak for that tiny girl,” Blaine said, breaking down and crying. Kurt held him close, whispering encouraging things in his ear and petting his curls, kissing his neck until he had calmed down.

“Kurt, I dont want to tell you this, but I dont think I can keep it to myself. Two weeks later, I was there at night again and Brooke was by herself. I waved at her and she waved back as I passed her room. It was just a small wave, very weak. I finished what I was doing, then walked back in her room. She looked at me – and I knew I was going to have to call the crash cart to revive her soon. Her lips were blue, she was ashen – but she blew me a kiss before she closed her eyes. I just stood there, holding her hand, doing nothing. She was done and I knew it. She had fought and it was time. I sat in the rocker beside her bed, gathered her up in her blanket, and I rocked her for about an hour – her fist holding my shirt. I...I heard her whisper to me. She said, Thank you. She died in my arms and I did nothing to stop it.”

Blaine broke down, crying and shaking. Kurt held on as tightly as he could, kissing Blaines curls and humming to him. Blaine sobbed and sobbed, finally just sniffing. He blinked his eyes and Kurt wiped the tears from his cheeks as well as he could.

“You alright?” Kurt asked, knowing that crying can be healing in some cases. He knew, though, that all the tears in the world were never going to erase little Brooklyn from Blaines mind.

“The hospital didnt charge me with anything, there was no actual proof Id been negligent, but I knew in my heart I could have done something. The head administrator asked me if I wanted to find another hospital in another city where I might ...ah...fit in better.

“I called my brother and he came right away. I told him a little of the story and he called our friend Wes and before I knew it, I was in St Thomas as a temporary trauma physician.”

Kurt didnt know what to say, it seemed so out of his league at first. Then he gave it careful thought. What would he have done? Saved Brooke to make her parents happy for a few more months while the girl suffered? No.

“Blaine, I think you did the right thing. I think Brooke trusted you to stop her suffering and in the end, she was your patient not her parents. You took care of her and kept her wishes the way she wanted you to. Maybe if there were more doctors like you there would be less suffering in this world, baby. God bless you,” Kurt said. He didnt realize hed called Blaine baby, or that he spoke of a god he only wished existed. It was straight from his heart and the truth of it rang in Blaines heart. He felt better for the first time since Brookes funeral.

“What about the pancakes?” Kurt asked, hoping that he could get Blaine to move on from the sad tale.

“Cooper, my brother, made them for me. When we were little, my mother would make chocolate chip pancakes for us on our birthdays. He made them the day I left New York,” Blaine said, closing his eyes. He missed his brother, he missed Wes and although most days were fine, he missed helping people. Here he was with Kurt and he was feeling so inadequate that he could not help Kurt with his eyesight. Tears ran down his cheeks and he closed his eyes again. It wasnt long before Kurts comforting caresses on his eyebrow and soft kisses to his neck made him sleepy. He was asleep before he knew it and Kurt was left to think about how he felt about Blaine now.

~*~*~*~*~

Charlotte Amalie, St Thomas, Virgin Islands

“Oh, no, Rebecca, I dont think I can eat another thing. Thank you for the breakfast, you are a phenomenal cook,” Burt said, finishing the last bit of his egg white omelet and picking up his mug of herbal tea.

“It was on your diet, Burt. I checked the list. Now, are you going with us on the boat today?” Rebecca asked. She already knew the answer so it was just a matter of politeness to ask.

“If it s no bother. We are going to look by the atolls near St Kitts, right?” Burt asked.

Rebecca nodded.

“As soon as Milo gets home. Hes due to be here in another hour. He radioed that he had picked up our daughter and grandson so theyll be here and probably go with us,” Rebecca said, clearing the dishes. She washed while Burt dried and put them away.

When Kurt was reported missing, Burt had a small heart attack. Lucky for him, he was in the hospital still and quick action saved him. He couldnt fly home and knew nobody on the island – so Rebecca and Milo offered to let him stay at their house just outside the city. Milo was a pilot for a large construction company and flew all around the world on a regular basis. Rebecca was staying in their home on St Thomas and was glad of the company; Burt was just a few years older than her daughter.

In the next months, Burt haunted the police station, the Coast Guard, and anyone else that might be of service. He was determined to make good use of the time he had and kept up the search for his son every chance he could. It had been four months and five days now, but he wasnt willing to even entertain the thought that Kurt was dead. He read all the reports on the hurricane, searching for any clue. Seven people were still missing and Burt was sure that Kurts mother was up in heaven watching out for their son. Just two weeks ago three people had been found on a small piece of land not too far from the place they were going to search today – all practically skeletons, but alive. Burt knew Kurt was a survivor and he wanted to find him. Life wouldnt be worth living without Kurt.

He knew his time in the Caribbean was coming to an end. His brother, Frank, was managing his garage back in Lima, but that couldnt last forever. Even the generosity of Milo and Rebecca would run out one day. Burt had offered to pay for his keep, but Milo wouldnt take it.

An hour later, Rebeccas little dog was barking and Milo walked in the front door, hugging Rebecca tightly and grinning at Burt. Behind him came their daughter and grandson, carrying luggage and bags.

When they came back down the stairs, Rebecca introduced them.

“Burt Hummel, please meet my daughter, Carole Hudson, and her son, Finn. They are spending the rest of the summer here and I hope going with us on the yacht today– right?” she said, looking at her daughter.

“I think that would be great. Well be ready in two shakes of a lambs tail. Its good to meet you, Burt,” Carole answered, smiling at the man. Her father had told her about their guest and his sons disappearance.

Finn shook Burts hand, a little shy but anxious to get on the yacht. He loved to sail and visiting his grandparents for the summer was a dream come true.

The sun was shining and the water was that shade of clear azure blue with just a hint of green as they sailed down the wind to a group of small islands and atolls to the east of St Kitt. Milo was as comfortable navigating his yacht as he was piloting his plane and sat in the wheelhouse with a grin on his face and a pipe in his mouth. Rebecca was sunning herself on deck, probably asleep on the chaise lounge, and Milo could just see Caroles sleeve where she was on the deck, leaning against the back of the cabin and talking to Burt. Milo smiled to himself. He knew his wife did not approve of his matchmaking, but Burt was such a good man, and Carole had been a widow for way too long. Milo didnt want to throw the two at each other – he just wanted to help things along in a gentle manner. He took hold of the wheel and cut the bow across a small wave, throwing Carole forward a bit – where Burt caught her in his arms. Milo smiled a little bigger and straightened the wheel.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Kurt walked along the beach, his hand in Blaines. He tried to tell himself that it was just to help him navigate the beach, but he really did love the feel of Blaines skin on his. He smiled to himself, unaware of Blaine seeing his face and smiling, too.

“Hey, theres something on the beach up ahead. Careful....” Blaine said, his curiosity piqued.

The two men approached the dirty bundle of rags, a strong smell of fish permeating the air. It was obvious that the thing had been thrown up on the rocks by the high tide, they had found a lot of things after a high tide, but this one made noise.

“What is it?” Kurt asked. “It stinks!”

“Yeah, but its alive, I can see it moving. Wait, can I use your bamboo stick?” Blaine asked. Kurt used a length of bamboo to help him keep steady while he walked. He held it out for his friend.

Blaine took it and got nearer to the bundle, reaching out to see if he could touch it. Whatever it was startled and threw itself around, but Blaine could see how weak it was. He took out his knife and cut the netting that covered the animal, leaving it lying on the sand.

“What is it?” Kurt asked, cursing his eyes for the millionth time.

“Ah...a bird, I think. It looks half-drowned. I cut a net off of it, but the poor thing is exhausted. I dont know if we can help it,” Blaine said.

“But youre a doctor!” Kurt said, then covered his mouth too late. He didnt want to force Blaine into anything he didnt want to do.

“That I am. A doctor. But not a veterinarian. Ill do the best I can,” he decided. Leaning over the bird, he pulled the seaweed off of it and picked the skinny thing up, taking it to a tidal pool and washing it off. Wrapped in a piece of canvas they had found on the beach, probably from a sail, Blaine and Kurt carried the large bird back to the shelter.

“Well, its wing is definitely broken. In two places, maybe more. Its right eye is infected, maybe blind, and its keel bone is sticking out so far I doubt the poor thing has had a meal in a week. But I do have good news: its a pelican. I dont know enough to tell if its a girl or a boy, though.”

“Tell me what it looks like?” Kurt asked. He usually didnt have to ask, Blaine was very good at describing things but his yearning to help this creature had made him forget that Kurt couldnt see.

“Im going to guess its a male since its so big...maybe 20 pounds? Anyway, he is pure white with black feathers in his wings. His beak is orange and gets almost red near his face. Its kind of intimidating....the rims of his eyes are the same color of reddish orange and there is a lump on the top of his beak. His eyes are dark brown and look so intelligent, as if the bird could tell us all kinds of things if he could talk,” Blaine said and Kurt laughed.

“I can see the pouch under the lower part of the beak, which is why I knew it was a pelican and not a swan – although they look similar. Well, at least to me,” Blaine laughed.

Kurt grinned as a silly limerick came to his mind:

“A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His bill will hold more than his belican,
He can take in his beak
Enough food for a week
But Im damned if I see how the helican!”

Blaine laughed, scaring the bird who in turn tried to flap its wings. The broken one just flailed, and the bird cried out in a scary voice so close to a human that both men shivered.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Blaine cooed at the frightened bird and put his shirt over its head, landing the bird in darkness. It settled right down.

“What are we going to name him?” Blaine asked, scratching the stubble on his chin as he contemplated what to call the bird.

“Dixon, of course,” Kurt said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as if this was the only name possible.

“Well, I like it – it sort of fits him, but why that name? Does he look like a favorite uncle of yours or something?”

“No. Uncle Frank is short, chubby, and bald. No, Dixon Lanier Merritt was a journalist. He wrote the limerick about the pelican,” Kurt said.

“Leave it to you to know the name of some obscure newspaperman, Kurt,” Blaine laughed, “Im going to wrap his wing to his body so he wont move it. I can try to set the bones, but I am not a bird doctor. Birds have different bones and Ive never tried to set a bone without an X-ray. Here, Kurt, can you hold him here?” Blaine asked, putting Kurts hands where he needed them to be. After 45 minutes of struggle, the pelican was standing before them, his wings tied tightly to his body. He moved his head up and down, obviously unhappy with the way hed been treated.

“I think we better go get him some fish. Thats what they eat, right?” Kurt asked.

“I think so. He isnt going too far for now, Im going to tie a piece of twine to his leg and the other end to the bamboo in the shade. I put some water in that big pan, I hope he can drink okay.”

“Good, I have the fishing stuff ready,” Kurt said, picking up the bag and finding his bamboo stick.

They walked down to the beach, making their way to a tidal pool first. The men had found it was often easier to find fish left behind in these pools and to get them out with a net. Kurt had mended the net when they found it, tying string to fill in the holes, then Blaine stretched it over a hoop hed made of bamboo to catch fish. A few scoops of fish later, they had a bucket full of small fish for their new houseguest.

Walking back, Kurt thought he heard an engine, but Blaine didnt see anything and hadnt heard it. Maybe it was just his imagination.

Back at the camp, the pelican was standing near the shelter and a good deal of the water was gone from the pan.

“Hey, Dixon, are you hungry?” Kurt asked, following the string to find the bird. He put his hand on the soft feathers and the bird just stood still. Maybe he was just too tired to fight or maybe he was unafraid of people for some reason, but Kurt was glad he could touch it. He felt into the bucket and brought out a fish. The pelican opened his beak and Blaine helped Kurt feed it the fish. After ten little fish, the bird walked away.

“Well, thats as much as we can do for the poor fella. I just hope his wing heals,” Blaine said, watching the beautiful white bird.

Finding and caring for the pelican had taken most of the day, but at the very least it had taken Blaines mind off of Brooklyn and his confession to Kurt. For his part, Kurt hadnt forgotten Blaines sad story, but he couldnt help it if he had visions of Blaine holding their own little girl one day. He shook his head. If they got off the atoll and back to civilization, would Blaine still be interested in him? It was a fear that nagged at his soul all the time now. He could hardly imagine what life would be like if he lost Blaine, and it made him very afraid.

After dinner that night, Kurt snuggled up to Blaine, more needy than usual. Several times that day hed thought he saw some bit of lighter patterns in the dark that had become his world. He was scared to tell Blaine, not wanting to get his hopes up, but now that they were lying quietly it came back to haunt him. Was he hallucinating?

“Hey, sweetie, whats wrong?” Blaine asked in a soft voice. After so much intimate time together, he could read Kurts moods.

“Ah...I think Im just tired,” Kurt said.

Blaine didnt believe that for a split second. He could tell something big was bothering the boy he was falling in love with. Turning in the blanket, Blaine faced Kurt and kissed him lightly. Kurt kissed back, gently at first as they shared a quiet moment. This went on for a while, first one then the other closing the space between them to touch their lips together.

“What time is it?” Kurt asked.

“Ah....maybe eleven or so? Its late, the sun has been down for hours. Why?”

“No reason,” Kurt said, turning his head. He couldnt feel the fire, so he assumed it was dark.

“Kurt, is there something going on that I need to know? Or that you want to share with me? Because I just get the feeling there is something bothering you and I cant figure it out. Does it have something to do with Dixon?” Blaine asked, wondering if the pelican was on his friends mind.

“I dont want to talk about it, at least not now. Give me some time, okay Doc?” Kurt said.

Blaine shut his mouth. He knew if the boy was calling him Doc that it was serious. Kurt only called him that if he was thinking about a serious subject in which their age difference was bothering him.

“Kurt, there is a subject Ive wanted to bring up, and now seems as good a time as any,” Blaine probed, wondering if Kurt was in a receptive mood.

Kurt was silent for a few moments, his mind thinking up all kinds of bad things. Somehow he convinced himself that no matter how bad it was, it was better to know it than speculate about it.

“Okay, whats up?” the boy asked, moving a little to make a space between them.

“Its about when we get back to civilization,” he said softly, then waited for Kurt to agree to hear him out.

“Dont you mean if we get back, not when?”

“I mean when, Kurt. I have every hope that we will be found. I know you miss your dad and I want to help you get your eyesight back,” Blaine said.

“Oh, that.....do you really think it will come back?” Kurt asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“Yes. I cant guarantee it, but I do think so,” Blaine said. He didnt want to give Kurt false hope – the longer his eyes were affected, the less likely a cure would be.

“Do you think well be friends even after we go back?” Kurt asked. He had wanted to ask a thousand times, but he chickened out each time. Now was as good as any time to be courageous.

“Yes...but Kurt, dont you think were more than friends now?” Blaine asked, a little hurt that Kurt would not call them boyfriends at least.

“Yeah....I do. Blaine, how do you feel about me? I cant see how you look at me, or gauge your degree of any emotion. Maybe if I was born this way I might have the ability to do things like that, but it has been just four months or so....Im at a disadvantage here. If were going to work, you might want to give me a little more feedback?” Kurt said, trying in vain not to sound petulant.

Blaine took that in, spinning his thoughts into a kaleidoscope of colors and ideas. He was mixed up about it, even if he did know for a fact that he was in love with Kurt. Was it fair to let Kurt fall for him, too? Or was it just a lack of options?

“That is fair, Kurt. Its hard for me to say what Im feeling, even if I know how much you need it. Im sorry. Okay, cards on the table time?” he asked.

“Yes, for both of us, Blaine. Spill.”

“Kurt, I think Im in love with you,” Blaine said bluntly.

“You think or you know?” Kurt asked, chastising himself for borrowing the line from an old Dawsons Creek episode when Joey told Pacey she loved him – appropriately enough, it was the episode when they left on an ocean voyage. Blaine said something and Kurts mind was wandering to the old tv show. He shook his head and pointed his face towards where he could hear Blaine.

“Sorry, I couldnt hear you,” he mumbled.

“I said I am in love with you, Kurt Hummel, and I dont want to lose you once we leave this island.”

Kurt lay still, wondering if he was making this all up in his head and not wanting to wake from this dream.

“Kurt? I meant every word of that, but if you dont feel the same....?” Blaine said in a small voice, now scared hed gone too far.

“Blaine....” Kurt said, rolling closer and putting his arms gingerly around Blaines shoulders. “Oh, Blaine....I dreamed you would say that. I hoped it for so long....really? You want me?” Kurt enthused, hardly believing this was real. He hugged Blaine close, then accepted the mans kisses and it snowballed from there.

“Kurt, I love you,” Blaine said once again, tasting each word as it came out of his mouth, loving being able to say it out loud.

“I love you, too, Blaine. I do...” Kurt replied, hugging Blaine closer. He could wait for a better time to mention the skittering shades of light that had been coming more frequently as the days passed.

The two had wrapped themselves around each other, kissing and tasting and breathing. It wasnt exactly a frenzy, but it wasnt too far off. They werent wearing very much anyway, what with the heat during the days and the slight chill that made them cuddle together under the blanket at night. Skin touched skin and their breaths came harder and deeper as the kissing got harder and deeper.

“Blaine? Can we...ah...please, is there more?” Kurt asked as Blaine slipped his fingers around Kurts cock. The request brought a new surge of feeling to Blaines already hard erection.

“Yes, there is...are you ready for it, you think?” Blaine asked. He was ready, but had waited for Kurt to initiate the next step.

“Oh, yes....yes,” he whispered.

Blaine got up from the blanket and walked quickly to the kitchen, the group of make-shift shelves where they stored the few things that had come from the duffel bags or washed up on shore. He grabbed the bottle of olive oil that had been in the bag with a few pantry items and utensils. He had thought about using the bottle for cooking, but for some reason hadnt even opened it yet. Apparently his subconscious had a better use for the slick liquid.

“Blaine? Where did you go?” Kurt asked.

“Just to get something....where were we?” Blaine asked, lying down closer to Kurt, his clothes now folded at the side of the shelter.

He helped Kurt remove his and they touched, careful and slow at first. Blaine loved the sounds Kurt made, a small gasp as Blaine licked the warm place under his ear, an intake of breath as he trailed his fingers down the muscles of his abdomen.

“Blaine...please can we do more?” Kurt asked again, his voice lower and full of want and need.

“Yes, baby...” Blaine said. He took the bottle of oil and poured a bit in his hand, Moving his dry hand up Kurts thigh, he kissed him and moved to his butt cheek. Kurt moaned at the touch, his legs quivering for a few moments at the new sensation before parting as he kissed deeper in encouragement. Blaine slipped his fingers between the cheeks, moving gently but firmly so as not to startle his lover. Kurts moans got deeper still as Blaine rubbed the pad of his slick thumb over the puckered skin, pressing softly for now, not breaching the tight sphincter muscle guarding Kurts body.

“Blaine,” was all Kurt said, his breath fast and shallow, his muscles taut and trembling just a bit. Blaine continued rubbing slowly, so gentle as Kurt moaned louder. When Blaine judged he was ready, he increased the pressure, just barely pushing in as he massaged the ring of muscle, waiting for Kurt to relax before going further.

“Relax, baby....” Blaine whispered, “Is that good?”

“Yes, Blaine....so good. Can you....engh....can you touch my cock, too?”

Blaine moved his other hand to slowly encircle Kurt as requested. He moved up and down as his other fingers swirled around his sphincter, dipping in when he felt the muscle release. Going deeper, he massaged the muscle and pushed deeper still.

“Oh...ngh...yes...” Kurt let lose, not knowing or caring what he was saying. He leaned up to kiss Blaine, plunging his tongue into his lovers mouth to the rhythm of Blaines finger.

“Is more okay now?” Blaine asked and Kurt moaned a yes. Blaine made sure he had enough oil on his fingers and added the second, continuing the slow, gentle rhythm. He slowed down the pumping of Kurts cock when he felt it get so hard that Kurt was trembling again.

“Blaine....please, Blaine....I want it to be you, not your fingers now. Can I have you?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, baby...but tell me if its too much or if you want me to stop. Okay?”

Kurt was too wound up to speak, but Blaine was not going further unless he knew Kurt understood. He stopped moving, gently pulling his fingers out.

Kurt looked in his direction with a surprised look on his face.

“Kurt, you can tell me to stop if its too much or you need a break. Just say so or grab my arm and Ill stop. Do you want to go on?”

Kurt heard him that time and nodded his head then said, “Yes, Blaine...I understand. I want this....Ive wanted this so badly. Do you think it will still hurt a lot?” Kurt asked. He was frightened, but wanted it so much hed hidden his fear away from himself until just now.

Blaine took the bottle of oil and poured a little more onto his palm. He slid it over his cock, surprised at how good it felt to just do that much. His hand wanted to keep doing it, but Kurt was waiting. Blaine took his slick hand and smoothed the rest of the oil on Kurt, stroking him so the nerves would be stimulated – hopefully to the point that the first thrust wouldnt hurt as much. Blaine recalled his introduction to sex and he wished the inexperienced boy had known a bit more.

Kurt was running his hands down Blaines sides.

“Sweetheart, it will be easier for you if we lay with you on your side in front of me. It will be easier for you to relax that way. Okay?” Blaine suggested. Kurt nodded and turned on his side. Blaine got in back of him, running his hands over the boy as he relaxed his muscles, Blaine kissing his neck and stroking him gently with an arm thrown over his hip.

“Okay, baby...remember to say if its too much,” Blaine told him. He did not want to hurt Kurt. He slid closer, moving Kurts left knee up a bit and pulling that cheek back affording him better access. He put a finger back in, then another, finding the sweet spot to massage for a moment. Kurt gasped, turning his head so Blaine could kiss him. Then Kurt felt Blaines cock, entering him with slow moves, gentle little thrusts. It hurt. More than Kurt had anticipated, with a burning, searing pain for a moment. Blaine felt Kurt stiffen in surprise, then hiss through his teeth as more flesh entered his body.

“You okay, baby?” Blaine asked, but Kurt said it was fine and he would let Blaine know if it got worse.

Blaine moved a little faster, thinking it might be better with the slickness and friction coming in a shorter expanse of time. He went quickly enough, but not too quickly because he didnt want to tear Kurt at all. Blaine had treated more than a few men and women who had gone too fast with not enough lubricant. He didnt want that for Kurt, he wanted it to be a good experience. Stopping to kiss Kurts neck, rub a finger over the pebbled nipple of his left side, and hum a sort of comforting sound as he thrust ever so slowly and gently into the depths of Kurt.

He continued to stroke, paying special attention with his hand to the ridge under the crown of his cock. At the same time, he pushed the final bit into Kurt. It was all he could do to hang on and not climax, Kurt was of course tight and warm and velvety smooth. He found himself light-headed and so horny, hardly able to think of anything but pushing and pulling, thrusting and withdrawing, like the waves against the shore in a rhythm as old as time. It was a struggle to keep himself at a pace that would let Kurt get used to the feeling before he pushed him further.

“Blaine...it hurts so much. Not as bad as at first, but...I dont know if stopping will hurt less?” Kurt asked. He did not want his voice to begin begging, he wanted this, had wanted it for months...he was not going to give up now.

Blaine slowed even more, but Kurt objected and began moving in the rhythm Blaine had started. With a few more strokes, the burn was easing and Kurt was starting to enjoy it. He eventually thrust back, the feeling getting better to him with each stroke.

“Can we...can we change so were face to face now?” Kurt asked and Blaine pulled out, turning Kurt to lie on his back while he climbed between his legs. Blaine entered Kurt again once hed added more oil, and the boy made an amazing noise, so erotic that Blaine felt a jolt from deep inside. He leaned down to kiss Kurt again, running one hand down his chest and tenderly grasping his cock, stroking as he thrust inside.

“Yesyesyes,” Kurt chanted, losing his ability to speak clearly. It still hurt a little, but the good feeling was so overwhelming he wasnt going to let the small burning stop him.

Blaine was having trouble keeping the pace slow enough that he wasnt on the edge. Kurt was not only tight and warm and amazing, but the sounds coming out of his throat were better than any song. Blaine wanted this to last forever.

“Blaine!” Kurt said, startled and amazed when Blaines thrusting hit the sensitive place that his lovers fingers had found earlier, but this time it was his thick, warm cock and it felt so much better. Kurt lost track of all the feelings that flowed through his body, each different and better and more than the last. He lost track of whether it was an hour or a few moments, but the time was near and the feelings and with them the emotions that Kurt had held in check were all going to erupt at once. Kurt was worried that he should wait for Blaine to come first, but then it wasnt a matter of waiting because Kurt had no means to do that any more. The heat was rising, the tingling coming over his limbs as all of his blood was gathering to burst forth....

And it was absolutely silent as Kurt came, the thrusting and accepting all done and now the feeling was more and better and more and more....than hed ever felt before in his life.

Just as the thought passed through his mind of whether Blaine was in the same space, he felt the steady pulsing against his insides, the deep, throaty sounds of Blaine as he came just after Kurt and fleeting as it was, Kurt was proud that it was him that let Blaines floodgates open.

Kurt lay back on the blanket, wanting this peace to last, wanting Blaine to stay curled next to him for the rest of the night and maybe even all day tomorrow.

Blaine had taken a piece of cloth and cleaned Kurts skin, wiping away the thick liquid that covered him in spots from thighs to chest. Hed even turned him to his side and tenderly cleaned the rest of him before Kurt heard him rinse the cloth in the little bucket and wash himself. After that, Blaine laid down in back of Kurt, gathering him close and pulling the thin blanket over them to form a nest. They didnt talk much, just Blaine asking if Kurt was okay, was he happy? Kurt answering that it was the best night hed ever had.

“Blaine, I know now I could love you until the end of time,” Kurt said. It might have been a bit of an overstatement, too adolescent, too optimistic....but it warmed Blaines damaged heart in a way nobody – not even his beloved brother or his best friend – had been able to do. He wished that Kurts simple wish could be true.

“Same with me, baby. I love you, too.”