CHAPTER 9

Will you be my boyfriend?

It was a question that wouldn't leave Blaine's mind, always right there on the tip of his tongue, waiting to explode out of him without a moment's notice if he wasn't careful. Halfway home that Sunday night he already itched to call Kurt, and when they met in the Dalton parking lot the next morning, it was the first thing that he wanted to ask.

But he couldn't do that, not like this. Kurt deserved the best there was, in everything, and that included having this question asked properly, in well-planned, romantic circumstances – even if Blaine had to bite his tongue all week. He had a few ideas for the next weekend, though. He would do it right.

It was hard, though, when everything was so sweetly awkward between them, all fumbling hands and sitting too close and yet not close enough, furtive glances and too bright smiles without a reason. It wasn't like being boyfriends would change much in the way they could act in public, but the longing was there, in every touch and every look, and if Blaine wasn't very much mistaken, it wasn't just him.

The revelations of that weird Cheerio coach from McKinley only added to that.

"Wow, it means that Warblers gotta do something sexified." Blaine was already scrolling excitedly through his mental library of songs they could perform when he noticed Kurt get tense next to him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

They were at the counter now so Kurt took a moment to answer. It wasn't until they were seated at the table, fixing their coffee (a dash of nutmeg for Kurt, sugar for Blaine), when he shrugged, not meeting Blaine's eyes.

"It's nothing. I just... I don't think I'm able to do sexy." He said quietly.

Blaine completely missed his cup with the lid he was trying to put back on.

"Are you kidding? You are kidding." Kurt didn't look like he was kidding. "Kurt, you're the sexiest guy in all of Ohio."

"Riiight." The skepticism in Kurt's face was bordering on a sneer. "No, I'm not. Don't joke like that."

"Ngh." Blaine answered eloquently, because this particular expression on Kurt's face, with his eyebrow arched and his jawline so strong and defined, with a blush creeping up high on his cheekbones, always did things to him. He swallowed thickly. "Not joking."

Kurt still didn't look convinced, and a coffeeshop in the middle of the afternoon was not a good place to just show him, so Blaine shook his head a little to clear it and tried another angle.

"Besides, even if you don't believe me, I'm sure you can do sexy onstage. You're an actor, come on. You did flirty perfectly when we were practicing that Christmas duet." Kurt blushed harder and bit his lip. Guh. "Just. Just imagine that someone you're attracted to is right there, maybe? There and fascinated, and waiting for the end of the performance to sweep you away and show you just how sexy you are."

Kurt gasped softly.

God, his own advice would be the death of Blaine one day.

Kurt looked nervous when they were getting ready for the performance in Dalton's old storage house the dean let them use sometimes. He looked mortified after Blaine's little introduction, squirming under the curious glances of the Crawford girls, and his hands were still shaking visibly as they started the song. But the moment they ended up face to face, Kurt's whole demeanor shifted between one heartbeat and the next. And Blaine was so. Screwed.

Kurt turned on the teasing.

Blaine wasn't sure how exactly he got through the whole song without messing up the routine or forgetting the words completely. It probably meant that he was good, if he managed to sing and dance even through the haze of desire muddling his brain, on legs that felt like jelly and with a hard-on that made it difficult to move fluidly.

With Kurt anywhere in his field of vision – his body moving like it was made for this, every look and smirk a seduction – Blaine forgot all about the girls they were performing for, or the reason they were doing it, or even the fact that all of his fellow Warblers were around them, looking. And the lyrics of the song they were performing – what had he been thinking, choosing Animal? – only added to the sexual tension simmering in the air between them.

The end found them standing on the concrete floor of the storehouse, covered in bubbles, two inches from a kiss and breathing heavily.

"Get a room, guys." Jeff groaned, passing them by, rolling his eyes with a smile.

They did.

Well, okay, not like that, but. Yeah, they did.

***

By the time Blaine finished talking with the Crawford girls, trying to get their opinions on the performance, Kurt's hair and his emotions were mostly back under control. His mind, however, was still pretty much reeling with the newfound realization: when faced with Blaine, pulling off sexy and seductive was easy. Once he took the leap and let himself think back to their kisses on the porch, and admit how much he wanted more of those, looking at Blaine and communicating attraction, desire through every move and every expression was as natural as breathing.

And effective, too. He'd seen it in the way Blaine couldn't look away from him, mesmerized, the way he kept searching Kurt out wherever they were throughout the song, and touching him in passing whenever he could get away with it. Blaine's gaze was almost hungry by the time the music stopped.

And Kurt knew exactly how he must have felt. His own body was still thrumming with the sensual, sexy vibe of the song and Blaine's proximity.

"I don't understand why they look like I've offended them somehow." Blaine came back, confusion clear on his face. "Usually they are all too eager to give us feedback."

"Well I'll hazard a guess that usually you spend more time singing at them than at your male co-lead." Kurt smirked, and the perfect O of Blaine's mouth only made him want to kiss it.

Blaine shook his head and shrugged. "Oh well. I think Jeff and Nick are handling it just fine. So, are you up for coffee?"

The Lima Bean. People. A table between them.

"How about we hang out at my house instead?" Oh wow, he didn't plan that. His body approved, though. "I made brownies last night."

"You had me at brownies." If the dark, heated look on Blaine's face was indeed an indication of his relationship with brownies, Kurt should maybe get him some sort of a leaflet about food porn from Miss Pillsbury.

The house was surprisingly empty and quiet when they arrived, and maybe once it would have made Kurt nervous, but right now it only made something excited swoop in his belly as they took the brownies and glasses of cold milk upstairs to his room.

The brownies were delicious – of course they were, Kurt made goddamn great brownies, but now their plates were empty and Kurt was sitting on the edge of his bed, with Blaine in front of him in the desk chair, and the silence was getting awkward. Even the music from the iPod speakers wasn't helping when each song seemed to be more suggestive than the previous one.

Oh, they had plenty of things to talk about if they wanted. But the air between them was charged, full of tension, and Kurt didn't even try to pretend he didn't know why.

He wanted to reach out and touch Blaine. And he was pretty certain Blaine wanted the same. Why was it so hard then?

"You've got some chocolate on your lips." Blaine's voice was slightly off, a little breathless. Kurt darted his tongue out, trying to find the offending spot. "No, there... um, let me."

And then Blaine was kneeling on the floor in front of him, his thumb swiping along Kurt's lower lip. It came up smeared with a bit of melted chocolate that Blaine licked off immediately, and Kurt couldn't hold in a gasp.

There was only a second of hesitation, a heartbeat that was barely enough for their eyes to meet, and then Blaine was kissing him, deep and hungry, licking into his mouth, his tongue still cool from the milk and tasting like chocolate, and it was all Kurt could do to bury his fingers in the hair at the back of Blaine's head and hold on, and kiss back with a passion that came right from the very center of him. He was pretty sure the soft little moans were his. He didn't care.

And then, just as fast as Blaine's mouth came, it was gone. Kurt tried to follow it with a whimper of protest, but Blaine cupped his cheek and looked at him, so solemn and intense even as his voice came out rough and breathless.

"No, wait. I need to. First. Be my boyfriend? Please be my boyfriend, Kurt."

"Yes."

And they were kissing again, hard and deep, with abandon, and it was fucking heaven, even better than their first kisses on Sunday night because Kurt knew what to expect now, he had dreamed of the miracle of Blaine's lips every night this week, and now they had time, they were alone and boyfriends and they could. They could kiss all they wanted.

He'd  never thought one could feel so much, anything so powerful. But it seemed as if his whole body was made to feel Blaine, perfectly receptive to every touch, every tiny movement and sensation and sound. Every press of Blaine's lips and sweep of his tongue flowed down Kurt's spine in a delightfully hot wave, feeding the fire settling low in his belly. His fingers curled, helpless with pleasure, in Blaine's hair, the back of his blazer; his head swam; his lips tingled and burned and god, this was better than anything, ever.

Blaine let out a broken moan right into his mouth, his hands sliding up Kurt's thighs to clutch at his waist under the blazer, impossibly hot through the thin cotton of his shirt. And then Blaine was mouthing at Kurt's neck and it was too much to keep doing anything more then feel. Caution thrown to the wind, Kurt gave up all control, gave in to the overwhelming yespleasemore.

"Kurt?"

The knock on the bedroom door was a shocking return to reality.

He only had enough time to pull away from Blaine and take in his boyfriend's – boyfriend's! – completely debauched appearance before the door opened and his father stood in the doorway, a recipe book nearly falling from his hand.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

And then the door was closing again and Blaine was looking at him with an absolutely mortified expression, his hair tousled and lips bee-stung from kissing, and Kurt could only hide his burning face in his hands, trying not to whimper with embarrassment.

His father was thankfully nowhere to be seen when Kurt walked Blaine to the door. They didn't even kiss goodbye, both too distressed to prolong this moment.

"Call me later?" Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand, clearly concerned though Kurt had assured him he would be fine. He shouldn't be in too much trouble. At least he hoped so.

"I will. Drive safely."

And then Blaine was gone, and Kurt turned around and headed back to his room, trying to be as quiet as possible. His dad's voice caught up with him just as he was starting up the stairs.

"Kurt? Come here for a second."

Sighing heavily, he resisted the temptation to pretend he didn't hear the summons, put on a brave face and stepped into the kitchen. His dad looked at him over a glass of water – and looked away so fast that something in Kurt's chest squeezed painfully.

"New rule. The door to your room stays open when Blaine is over."

"But–"

"It's exactly the same with Finn when whichever of his girlfriends visits and you know it, so no sour faces." His dad crossed to the fridge and started taking out random ingredients, clearly uncomfortable. "And... I want to talk to you after dinner, okay? Okay, you can go."

Tears stung Kurt's eyes as he closed the door behind him and crossed to his wardrobe to change out of his uniform. He'd gotten so used to his father's acceptance; it hurt to know theory was one thing, but actually seeing him with a boy seemed to–

His train of thought was cut short when he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror – and gasped. Okay. Maybe he should cut his dad some slack before assuming anything... considering that he blushed himself at what he saw.

His hair was mussed, his lips dark red and noticeably swollen, but that was just the beginning. Kurt had no idea how or when it had happened, but his uniform shirt was untucked, the top two buttons undone, his tie hung loose and it was impossible to miss the large, dark purple hickey under his left ear.

Oh wow. They did get carried away.

The funny part was, he was completely incapable of regretting it. He got carried away making out with his boyfriend, and it was glorious, parental displeasure or not.

Except when he reached to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, the fabric shifted to reveal the first letters of Blaine's name under his collarbone, and Kurt's excitement quickly melted away as dread started to seep in.

What if Blaine saw the mark? It would be so easy for him to notice it in a situation like this, even just today – one look, one unfortunate slide of the shirt collar and –

And then what? He'd have to explain the phenomenon, confess just how long he'd had the mark, maybe even, if Blaine asked the right questions – like he usually did – tell him about all the weird side effects? The dreams, the pull towards him, the heightened reactions... For Kurt, these were almost normal by now, something he'd had time to get used to. He could only imagine what a shock it would be for Blaine to hear about it all for the first time, and when they'd only just started dating.

Of course, it they stayed together longer – and Kurt definitely hoped they would – there was no way he would be able to hide the mark forever. It was in a spot that didn't need much to be uncovered, as today proved – a couple of buttons and there it was. But he really needed more time, a chance to tell Blaine on his own terms, to prepare him somehow. Maybe link him to an article, passing it as something interesting he'd read? Gauge his reaction? Or tell him about Tina and Mike, if they let him. And then, a bit later, admit to having his own mark – that should be gradual enough.

The last thing he wanted was to freak Blaine out. He'd tell him, of course he would. Soon. He'd just give him a little more time. A month maybe. Two, tops. It just meant he'd have to make sure his shirts stayed put and buttoned up until then, that's all. He could easily do this.

Okay, cross out the easily. But he could, right?

He had more immediate problems now, anyway. The impending talk with his dad after dinner, for one. Making sure he had a non-staining concealer that would actually cover the hickey. Finding the way to think about Blaine without an immediate reaction in his pants because that would make the talk about hundred times more embarrassing than it was certain to be anyway.

***

Blaine was doing his best, he really was. But if he was being honest with himself, it was inevitable after the afternoon performance and Kurt's explosion of sexiness, and then all the kissing in Kurt's bedroom, and being boyfriends now... He'd had trouble resisting even when they were completely platonic, so tonight even the tiniest thought of Kurt – okay, most any thought, because they all centered around Kurt anyway – made heat flare in his belly. It was only a matter of time before he'd give in to the temptation. Especially when Kurt texted him that he wasn't in trouble with his dad, which made the weight of worry lift from Blaine's shoulders.

He made it till bedtime, but when he finally caved, sprawled naked on his bed behind the locked door, it only took seconds and it all flooded and overwhelmed him until there was nothing else. The sense memory of his boyfriend's lips, his hands and skin and scent, his thighs holding Blaine firmly in place when he kneeled on the floor. He savored it, drew it out until it was almost torture to hold back any longer, and then it was an implosion of pleasure, everything centered and shockingly focused, an undiluted, overflowing ecstasy.

Kurt called him ten minutes later.

"Hey. What are you doing?" He sounded a little winded, but bubbly, which brought an immediate smile to Blaine's lips.

"Thinking about you." Which wasn't even a lie, was it? Even if he didn't mention the context – that would be way too forward. "How did the talk with your father go?"

"Good. Mortifying, but good." There was a smile in Kurt's voice. "It was the talk, you know? He wanted to make sure I'm educated and... um. Safe." Blaine could practically hear the blush spreading on Kurt's face right now. It was adorable. "And that we... respect each other. I wouldn't be surprised if he planned to deliver this speech to you, too, at some point. He did ask how your parents take your being gay and us dating."

"Oh." Blaine couldn't decide if he was more terrified or moved. "They don't know. About us. And I'm sure they'd rather it stayed that way."

"I guessed so." The affection in Kurt's tone felt like a hug. "Anyway, he said you're always welcome here. As long as the door to my bedroom stays open."

"Oh. Good." That was a relief. Not that Blaine worried about it too much – he'd met Burt Hummel before and admired his relationship with Kurt, his acceptance. Still, it was great to know they were okay.

Kurt hummed in the speaker, and then his voice took on that teasing, faux-strict tone. "Now, let's discuss the rules concerning hickeys."