CHAPTER 13

Sebastian hadn't planned to go to The Tipsy Hippo on Thursday, though Cooper had told him about Blaine's performance. But then the extortion case he was assisting on blew up and all shit broke loose. He had to stay at the office until after nine, working his ass off, and he definitely needed a drink afterwards. So he could just as well go and have a few with his friends, listening to Tadpole Anderson use those undisputable talents of his for the greater good.

The bar was already crowded when he arrived, so it took him a moment to order a drink and find his friends. Or, as it turned out, his friend – Kurt was sitting alone by the table near the small stage. Clearly Cooper couldn't leave work at a normal hour even for his own brother's debut. He would come eventually though, Sebastian was sure of it.

He made his way towards the table, meandering among chatting people by the bar. Blaine was on the stage with a guitar, looking quite dashing in all black and charming the audience with the well-known words of Your Song. No one could deny that his voice worked beautifully with the song, but that wasn't what pulled Sebastian's attention most; it was the way the kid kept looking at Kurt. He probably thought he was being subtle, but it was painfully obvious who Blaine directed the song to. Sebastian was just going to poke a little fun at it as he finally reached the table, but then he saw Kurt's expression – and paused, intrigued.

Kurt hadn't yet noticed his arrival and his face was open in a way it rarely was in public, soft-featured and reflecting something that definitely wasn't hilarity, his eyes trained unblinking onstage. The moment Sebastian put his glass on the table, the expression was gone and Kurt was back to his normal self, smiling at him, but that few seconds was enough.

Something was brewing here.

"So it seems like the baby gay here wants to marry you and have your children? Pretty, I'm glad I don't have a vagina. I would have to worry about accidental pregnancy just from the amount of hormones radiating off that stage." He said as he sat down, but the laugh Kurt gave him in return sounded only half-sincere.

"He may have a bit of a crush."

"You think?" Sebastian made a face. "I get it though, you're a hot package. So, have you tapped that ass already?"

"Seb!" Kurt might have played offended all he wanted, but there was still something... off.

"What?"

"That would be kind of asking for trouble, don't you think?"

"Duh. I mean, I understand the temptation – young meat, the stamina of a teenager... yum. But I hope you're smart enough to leave the fantasy in the spank bank where it belongs, aren't you? He's barely legal, and Cooper's brother, so it would be all kinds of inappropriate."

"What would be?" Coop was just slipping into the third chair.

"You sleeping with me." Sebastian never lost a beat, but cursed inwardly. His investigation would have to wait then. And oh, would he investigate. He was going to get to the bottom of this. Sebastian Smythe hated being left out of the loop.

***

Cooper got home uncharacteristically early on Friday. It was barely five and Blaine was only home because it was raining outside and Kurt was off fabric-shopping, which he said he preferred to do by himself, to be fully focused. So having his brother's company for the evening was nice, though dinner wasn't ready yet.

But the moment Coop entered the room, Blaine could clearly see that something was wrong. His brother looked worried and... guilty maybe? But why?

Coop leaned against the armchair opposite from the sofa Blaine was occupying.

"Bee? I'm really, really sorry."

He paused, as if searching for the right words, and the few seconds of silence were enough for Blaine to think about all kinds of terrible things that could have happened to make Cooper so distraught. Was it something about their parents? Or Kurt? He felt his heartbeat quicken before Cooper continued.

"I have to go away for a week, on a business trip to Seattle. I'm so sorry to leave you here alone, but with the audit in progress and my recent promotion, I just can't refuse, not this time, and..."

"Oh." Blaine felt almost like giggling; it seemed so silly that Coop would fret so much for such a silly reason. "It's okay. I'll be fine, I'm a big boy. And Kurt’s here if I need anything. When do you have to go?"

Coop looked relieved, but frowned again at the question. "Actually, right about now. No, okay, more like in an hour, but I only have time to shower and get ready. Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself?"

"Yes. Go pack."

"But... maybe I could ask Kurt to take you in for the time I'm away? I don't want you to get lonely."

Blaine rolled his eyes. He wasn't used to such overprotectiveness. If anything, he'd learned long ago to expect the opposite.

"Coop, go pack. Call Kurt if it makes you feel better, but I'll be perfectly fine. I love that you worry about me, but stop now. Go."

Cooper nodded and went to his bedroom, and it was only when he left for the airport an hour later, when the apartment got still and quiet again, that Blaine realized.

He was going to be by himself for the whole week. No need to come home before Coop returned from work. No one asking what he'd been doing all day. No parent figure whatsoever. He could be with Kurt until midnight without explaining, and no one would blink an eye.

He wouldn't hope for much time together, not with Kurt deep in his creative place again, and Blaine himself hired to play at The Tipsy Hippo three nights a week. But even an hour or two more in the evenings, just to eat dinner together without hurry, would be a gift.

He'd have to tell Kurt as soon as he called.

Which happened an hour later. Blaine didn't even have time to say anything before Kurt trilled, his voice bright and excited.

"Okay, pack your stuff and come over. I can't let you be lonely in this big empty apartment, can I? Coop called; you're staying with me so that I can keep an eye on you. Or, you know, other body parts."

Blaine would swear he felt his jaw hit the carpet as the full meaning of what he heard hit him. Hours with Kurt, days. Nights. He swallowed thickly, barely able to believe it. "But... are you sure? I mean, you're busy designing and –"

But Kurt shushed him impatiently. "I can be busy while close to you, too. And yes, I'm sure. Hurry up, I'm home and I want to kiss you."

Blaine had never packed his overnight bag faster.

He had to turn around and run back twice on his way over to Kurt's apartment. The first time, halfway there, he remembered that he hadn't packed his toiletries. Then, after getting out of the building again, he realized that he'd left his keys in the lock.

When he finally reached his destination, breathless from the fast pace and with his head full of steaming hot images, he was met with a scene he hadn't expected. Kurt wasn't waiting for him in bed, in a rush to rip his clothes off and make use of the time they were given. Instead, he was fully dressed in the kitchen, humming happily and stirring something that smelled of fresh tomatoes and basil. He turned to Blaine with a smile when he heard him enter.

"You're right on time," Kurt moved to kiss him softly and then turned back to switch off the burner. "Go wash your hands, dinner is ready."

It was just a simple spaghetti Napoli, but it could have been ambrosia, it tasted so perfect. Everything was perfect. This evening was theirs, as was the night that would follow and the morning afterwards. He had to stop himself from bouncing with excitement.

Eating dinner together tonight felt different from any other day. There was possibility in the air, and a promise: we can savor every moment; there’s time.

"Do you like salmon? I thought we could bake some for dinner tomorrow." Kurt swirled the last of his spaghetti onto the fork, and Blaine felt a warm wave of happiness spread over him, up to the very ends of his fingers and toes. They'd be making dinner together tomorrow.

"I love salmon." I love you.

Kurt smiled bright like the sun. "Great."

Blaine offered to wash up after dinner, not just because he was polite, but because it felt so different from the usual chore it was. For the few short moments by the sink, he let himself indulge in a fantasy of Kurt and himself in two, three years – living together, coming home after work and classes to eat dinner and spend the evening in, just the two of them. They'd divide up the cooking and cleaning, and afterwards they could snuggle on the sofa to talk about their days, maybe watch a movie or some show. Sometimes they'd fall asleep in front of the TV, tangled together, only half-comfortable, but warm and happy. They'd wake up to the end screen of the DVD, late at night, and drag themselves to the bedroom, where –

"Have you watched Moulin Rouge?" Kurt's voice from the living room worked like a wake-up call. Blaine looked at the last plate that he'd been trying to wash a hole in, and blushed.

"Only about a hundred times. But I can always watch it again." He rinsed the sink and dried his hands before going over to where Kurt was already seated on the sofa. The similarity to what he'd just been thinking about was so striking that it took Blaine's breath away.

"Great. That will work perfectly, then."

There was a bowl of red grapes on the coffee table. Not even ten minutes of the movie had passed before Kurt started feeding them to Blaine, first with his fingers, and a moment later, his lips. The little explosions of juice as they bit into each one were a convenient prelude to kissing – wet, a little sticky, their grins making it all crooked and perfect.

Kurt moved to straddle Blaine's thighs with the next grape in hand, but he didn't offer it to him. Instead, he touched it with his lips, the pink of his tongue darting out to lick a droplet of water from the shiny skin. When Kurt slowly slid the grape into his mouth until his lips formed a perfect little O around it, Blaine moaned and pulled him into a kiss so fast the fruit burst and they were both splashed with the sweet juice.

It didn't matter. What mattered was kissing Kurt like the world was coming to an end; feeling his strong fingers tangle into Blaine's hair; recognizing the hard press of Kurt's erection and pressing against it. What mattered more was that Blaine didn't even have to glance at the clock. Whatever time it was, it didn't matter. They had all night.

Kurt drew back and away from him suddenly, the tantalizing sounds he was letting out paused, and Blaine grumbled in protest. Kurt smiled, all flushed and a little breathless.

"Wait. There's no hurry. Let's cool off a little."

Blaine wasn't sure why they needed to stop when they could simply enjoy each other all they wanted, but he didn't argue. Having Kurt sit in his lap and sing with the movie before he leaned back in a moment later was more than enough to make him happy. Besides, he understood eventually. They were making out slowly just for the pleasure of it, because they could – without watching the hour or keeping an eye open for anyone approaching their car like he'd needed to with Nathan. They didn't have to race to get off before life interrupted. And there was a new kind of delight in it, a prolonged burn that Blaine hadn't known before, but loved already.

The movie had ended a long while ago and they were still at it, the addicting push-pull of getting close, but never close enough keeping them both on desperate edge. Every nerve was buzzing in Blaine's body, his skin felt hot and tingly at every point of contact and his lips were swollen and oversensitive from hours of kissing. Kurt said no undressing, but there were hands on the heated skin under shirts and lips sucking on necks and collarbones, and occasional nails or teeth when everything felt like too much, not enough.

It was in a moment like that when Kurt gently disentangled himself from Blaine's arms and got up in a smooth motion.

"Play for me?"

"Huh?" Blaine's brain was so far from Station: Thinking that it took a while to process Kurt's request. When he did, his eyebrows shot up. "Really? Now?" It sounded like a whine, and Kurt grinned.

"Yes. Could you? I have to work a little, but I'd love it if you played for me while I draw."

"But –" What about sex, he wanted to ask, but bit his tongue. Kurt understood, though.

"You can wait up for me or go to bed. If you want to sleep with me, of course? I didn't mean to assume." Blaine nodded quickly, slightly dizzy from the mere thought. Kurt seemed relieved. "Okay, so – whichever you prefer. And... hold that thought, we'll come back to it later."

With a mischievous smile, Kurt slid one fingertip along the prominent bulge in Blaine's pants.

Oh, Blaine would wait alright. No matter how long.

The last thing Blaine remembered before he woke up to Kurt's voice whispering his name was a block of commercials when he'd decided to rest his eyes just a bit. Now the TV was off, as were all the lights. Kurt's face was soft-edged and beautiful in the darkness, and if Blaine's eyes would just stay open for any reasonable amount of time, he could look at it forever. But his eyelids were heavy, his brain sluggish and uncooperative, and his stumbling attempts at acting awake only made Kurt chuckle. He managed to get up from the sofa and walk to the bedroom, but the big comfy bed was summoning him and its call was irresistible.

It took Kurt's amused prodding to even make Blaine shuck off his shirt and kick off his pants, but then he flopped on the bed with a groan. His eyes, barely open to begin with, closed again immediately and he'd be off to dreamland in no time if it wasn't for the very welcome sensation of soft, warm skin against his back.

The realization that he was in Kurt's bed and in Kurt's arms was almost enough to start Blaine's brain again – almost. But it was definitely enough for his body to react. Settling further back into Kurt's body revealed two more interesting facts that made Blaine moan sleepily: Kurt was completely naked. And completely hard.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Kurt's hips stuttered forward, his hand sneaking over Blaine's belly to cup him, and Blaine wanted more. But he also wanted to stay like this, limp and loose, not moving.

"Kurt," he whined. "Want you."

A hot tongue traced down the side of his neck. "I want you too. Can I take off your boxers? You don't have to do anything, just let me take care of you."

"Please." He helped by moving his hips a little, but other than that he remained boneless and relaxed on his side, his eyes closed. There was a stunning kind of calm in him, his perpetually racing thoughts quiet for once and the feeling of contentment cocooning him like a fluffy warm cloud.

A click of a cap sounded loud and familiar, and immediately there were goosebumps on Blaine's arms, a shiver of anticipation running down his spine. But whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this. Kurt's fingers just brushed over the crack of his ass, barely there, but enough to tease a small whimper out of Blaine's throat, and then they were between his thighs, wet and slippery with lube – plenty of it. They danced around for a moment and then they were gone. Another click, a heartbeat of silence, and then Kurt's whisper was in his ear again.

"Don't freak out, Bee."

The nickname came right along with Kurt's well-slicked cock sliding against Blaine's ass and no, he wasn't freaking out – he just wanted so bad. Letting go, trusting Kurt completely came so easily for him, and he wasn't even surprised. Everything was so easy with Kurt. Everything felt so right.

Kurt's cock barely brushed where Blaine ached to feel it, and then moved further, slipping between his thighs. A bit of rearrangement followed until Blaine's legs were pressed tightly together and Kurt's fingers encircled Blaine's cock loosely, and oh, yeah, please. Every movement of Kurt's hips shocked Blaine anew.

Kurt rocked slowly, in a gentle rhythm; there was nothing hurried or desperate about it, and soon Blaine fell into a strange, wonderful state of half-sleep, half-delight, held safely between Kurt's hands and his body, in the darkness filled only with the whisper of sheets against their skin and their soft moans.

It felt like hours – hours in their own little world of desire and bliss, sweet waves of pleasure mounting and licking at Blaine until he could take no more, until he overflowed and melted into it, letting go of anything he still held onto.

Sleep took him so fast he didn't even notice Kurt cleaning them up, but he must have, because in the morning there was no sticky discomfort. He woke up warm and well-rested, but the best part was Kurt's head on his shoulder and his arm slung easily across his chest. Their legs were tangled together under the duvet and there was bare skin everywhere, and really, waking up with another man for the first time couldn't be more perfect than this.

***

Kurt nuzzled closer into the warmth of the body beside him. Memories of last night danced through his head, making him smile against the smooth skin under his cheek. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Blaine's face, its expression soft and tender, and Kurt couldn't suppress a grin.

"Mm, morning. How long have you been awake?"

"A while. I've been enjoying the view." Blaine smoothed his fingers through Kurt's undoubtedly messy hair. "And I've wanted to do this all along."

Kurt blushed –blushed! what was he, sixteen again? – and placed a kiss on Blaine's shoulder, trying to hide his face. Blaine chuckled softly.

"You're adorable. So... how does it usually work?"

Kurt frowned and looked back up. "What do you mean?"

"Well... when a man stays over? I guess... I just wonder how you like your mornings."

Blaine was clearly trying to sound nonchalant, but Kurt could see the tension in his features. He shook his head.

"I don't know, Blaine. I hardly ever do the morning after thing. But this isn't a one-night stand, is it? So let's not worry about the morning after etiquette."

He started tracing abstract patterns on the heated skin of Blaine's stomach and must have found a ticklish spot because Blaine giggled and squirmed under him. Kurt's fingers slid lower, following the pronounced V of Blaine's hips and ghosting over the coarse hair, and soon their bodies were interested in more than just cuddling in a warm bed. It wasn't particularly comfortable though and after a moment Kurt rolled away and sat up. He answered Blaine's confused look with an apologetic smile.

"How about we take a short break? I don't know about you, but I really need to pee and brush my teeth. And then we can come back here and pick up where we left off?"

Blaine grinned. "I like your thinking."

When they met in bed again ten minutes later, both smelling like mint and soap, and smiling bashfully, there was a moment of silence as they kneeled opposite each other and just looked. They'd been naked together before and done things that could definitely qualify as sex, but this felt different – more intimate, more meaningful, simply more, and Kurt hesitated for a second. But then Blaine leaned in and kissed him, and any doubts were gone. This felt right.

It didn't take long until they were both hard and pressing against each other, desperate to be even closer. There was nothing subtle about their touches and kisses this morning. It was pure, shameless want, and soon Blaine was panting, arching under Kurt's weight, his nails digging into the flesh of Kurt's ass with a sharp sting that only worked to spur him on.

Sometime later, after they'd gotten their breath back and cleaned themselves up as much as they could without leaving the bed, Blaine surprised Kurt with a bout of post-orgasmic sincerity, more open and direct than he'd probably be otherwise.

"Mm, Kurt? Remember how you um... put your finger inside me, last week? I... I really liked that. Do you think we could do that again?"

Kurt groaned, feigning exasperation. "I was just thinking about taking a nice little nap. And now all I want is to watch you fall apart under my fingers, thank you very much." He rolled his eyes and grinned. "Yes, of course we can do that."

Blaine blushed, his voice low and rough. "How about now?"

Damn teenagers and their stamina...

But Kurt was far from opposed. His dick insisted it could easily keep up with a seventeen-year-old, and well, it turned out to be right.

And the memory of Blaine as he was thrashing on the bed with two of Kurt's fingers deep inside him, his hands fisted into the sheets and his voice raw from moaning, would forever stay with Kurt as one of the most breathtaking moments of his sex life. Blaine was completely out of control and so gorgeous like this. A picture of pure primal beauty, that had Kurt biting his lip to keep in words that wanted to fly out, but couldn't.

And when Blaine's body clenched and released, Kurt barely needed to touch himself to climax right along with him, the tight heat around his fingers too much to bear.

***

Blaine wasn't sure how he'd been able to live without sex before – without Kurt's touch and his kisses, not knowing intimately the texture and taste of his skin everywhere. The thought that just a month ago he hadn't known how much there was to feel and discover was making his head spin whenever he thought about it.

The week they had to themselves was the most sensual – and sexual – Blaine had ever had. They finally had time, and plenty of it, to cherish every moment together and languidly bask in each other's presence. Slow and sweet, desperate and hungry for more, and every state in between – they were able to get enough of each other at last; whenever they wanted, however they pleased. By the time Friday rolled around Blaine was sated, relaxed and pretty much spent, feeling more in love than ever.

If he was being honest, he'd hoped they'd have progressed to "real" sex by now (Kurt had laughed and said they'd been having real sex all along, and to stop using heteronormative definitions), but he definitely couldn't complain about recent developments.

Kurt had introduced him to his drawer of sex toys.

One night early in the week, when Blaine was lying on his stomach with his ass in the air, strung tight and desperate and shamelessly begging for cock, Kurt reached to his bedside table only to come back with a slim, black vibrator. Its head was a small sphere, barely bigger than a fingertip. Five more spheres, each a bit larger, followed, together creating a phallic shape. By the time the third segment was inside him, Blaine didn't know what to do with himself, his body buzzing with so much stimuli he was sure he was going to explode.

But Kurt made sure he couldn't. He fucked Blaine slowly with the toy until he took in the whole length, the burning sensation when the last segments moved in and out of him just making him more desperate, more certain that he loved this. Only then did Kurt speed up the movements of his hand and when he switched on the vibration, Blaine fell apart immediately, with an intensity he didn't expect.

Of course, sex was hardly the only thing on their minds. It was there, it was frequent, but there was also the rest of normal, everyday life. Kurt mostly worked from home all week, disappearing into his workroom for hours at a time to sew samples of his new designs. Blaine started his regular performances on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, so he was spending a lot of time practicing and perfecting his setlists. They cooked and ate together, met in between rooms to kiss or talk about something one of them had just thought about. They had quiet evenings watching movies and, sometimes making out until they decided they should just switch off the TV and focus on each other.

The domesticity of it all settled like a thick fuzzy blanket around Blaine's heart.

But his favorite part, one he hadn't considered when he'd fantasized about living with a boyfriend one day, was falling asleep and waking up together. He hadn't slept with anyone since he was a kid, and even then it had only happened when he'd had a bad dream and sneaked into Cooper's room sometimes. He had no idea how safe and happy he would feel gathered into Kurt's embrace, listening to his strong heartbeat and his breath evening out as he was falling asleep. Every night Blaine tried to be the last one to drift to sleep, and every morning he woke up first, collecting those memories and preserving them deep in his heart to remember during the long months of separation.

Because there was no way to ignore it: it was August already. They had about three weeks left before they would have to part for almost a year. But Blaine was optimistic – he was a good student, and if he did his best with college applications and practical exams, he should have no trouble getting into at least one of his chosen New York schools. And he and Kurt – they would be fine. They had to be. He could wait a year if living with Kurt one day in the future was his reward.

They'd be fine.

Right?