3. TENSION

They were fine after that night, just like Kurt had predicted they would be. It would take much more than an awkward sexual experience to break them. They were back home from New York and the two weeks until the hiking trip lay before them like a promise, ready to be filled with anything they wanted – music and love, movies and long talks. They were practically inseparable, always together, soaking in each other’s presence, warmth, touch. It was like a healing balm, this carefree summer time, just being together, without added stress, school, expectations. Blaine could feel the tension in him relax and all the remains of the hurt of previous months that still lingered like old bruises disappear under Kurt’s touch, the Hummels’ care, his own family’s renewed love.

Blaine slept at home sometimes, of course, but as it was the busiest time of the year at the company, his parents were constantly absent, so they had no problem with his staying over at Kurt’s as often as possible. And since Kurt’s family didn’t mind in the slightest, the two of them had a lot of time to love and slowly explore each other.

They’d talked after that night in New York, the next morning when it was all still painfully fresh in their minds, and the conversation was long and a bit awkward, and they both blushed a lot and held hands. They redefined their boundaries, neither of them quite ready for anything more than shirtless make outs yet, keeping things above the belt. They promised to talk and ask when the time came for more, because yes, they both knew it would come.

 And then they’d had an epic make out session that left them breathless, dazed and awed.

It was as if the realization that they were both ready to go beyond what they’d been doing for months had somehow broken the dam, releasing hormones and filling the air around them with sexual tension. Every touch felt different now, when there was intent there, when they knew where it would lead eventually – not yet, but soon. Soon they would be ready and there for each other to give and take, to pleasure and undo and put back together.

Blaine had a constant, never ending need to touch Kurt, hold him close, feel him. He was not alone in this.  Kurt’s hand was always close by, whether to hold in the safety of their homes or to brush against fleetingly in public.

And there were nights together in Kurt’s bed. And there were days when no one else was home but the two of them – Burt and Carole at work, Finn at Puck’s or Rachel’s or wherever.

The times when they lay long into the darkest hours of the night, shirtless and kissing, touching, taking breaks every so often to cool off before they dove back into each other, their gasps and whispers quiet and reverent, until they fell asleep still hard and aching and hungry for more in the most delicious way, because they knew more would come when they were both ready, soon, so soon.

Days when they cuddled on the couch, watching something on the TV, Kurt’s hand tracing abstract patterns under Blaine’s t-shirt or Blaine unhurriedly opening the buttons of Kurt’s shirt, one by one, to finally lay his cheek on his boyfriend’s naked chest and breathe in rhythm with his strong heartbeat.

They learned a lot in these two weeks. They mapped their bodies studiously and carefully, every inch of uncovered skin, until there were no secrets, until Kurt no longer hesitated before taking his shirt off, no matter the lighting. They found out what made the other gasp, moan, shiver, lose his mind with pleasure. They each had their favorite spots on the other’s body. They knew when to stop and what signals their bodies sent when they entered the danger zone. They slept shirtless every night, cuddling, spooning, and finally got to the point when they no longer blushed and jumped apart whenever they felt the other’s hardness.

And then it was time for the hiking trip to start.

The plan was simple. The five of them – the Hummel-Hudson family plus Blaine – went by car; tents, food and everything they needed packed tightly into the big trunk. Two campsites were chosen, five nights on each. They planned to hike and relax, cook on a small old campstove, talk and sing long into the night – Blaine’s guitar was carefully packed between sleeping bags – and have a great time far from civilization. They had their cell phones with them, but would only turn them on once a day to check for messages and texts. Other than that, there were no electronics allowed on this trip. Finn sulked about not being in constant contact with Rachel and missing music and TV, but neither Kurt nor Blaine minded this rule. For each of them there was only one person they felt like they couldn’t live without – and they were right there.

Kurt had been on many such trips, first with both his parents, then just his dad, but for Blaine and Finn it was the first time sleeping in a tent. There were two – one for Burt and Carole, the other for the boys. It was spacious enough that they didn’t felt like they slept with Finn, but it felt awkward anyway the first night. Kurt and Blaine had a double air-mattress; Burt decided there was no sense cramping the space with three separate ones when they always slept together anyway.

Finn was okay with that, he was used to them together, holding hands, cuddling on a couch, even sharing a quick kiss sometimes. If there had ever been any trace of homophobia in him – conscious or not – it had long since evaporated. But it was one thing to know they were together, and quite another to actually see your brother sleep tangled in another boy. It didn’t take long to banish any awkwardness though – one night of talking for hours in the darkness, telling ghost stories, giggling and feeling young and carefree, and nobody noticed the sleeping arrangements anymore.

Oh, well, that’s not quite true. Finn stopped noticing. There was no way Kurt or Blaine could miss the tiny detail of a warm, tempting body beside them, especially since they joined their sleeping bags into one to have at least that much intimacy. But the closeness of the single sleeping bag was more of a torture than anything else, it turned out.

The problem with Finn wasn’t even that he snored. Or, well, it wasn’t the biggest problem. It was the fact that sometimes he woke up because of the smallest sounds if they weren’t something he was used to. He slept right through his alarm every morning of the school year, but a shadow of a gasp Blaine let out when Kurt’s hand slid under his t-shirt on the fourth night caused a tense moment when Finn sat up on his mattress, looking around half-consciously. Even the quiet sounds of lips on lips caused Finn to mumble and toss in his sleep. So they could cuddle and touch innocently, and sleep in each other’s embrace, which was amazing of course, but their newly awakened hormones made for a torturous amounts of sexual tension they had no way of resolving.

They’d never been fans of PDA, mostly for safety reasons; Kurt also insisted he found it distasteful when people were shamelessly making out in public. But they both dreamed of being able to hold hands or kiss chastely, not caring about people looking; of just being allowed to act like a couple outside of safe, private places. Having tasted this freedom in New York, they found it even more difficult now. But they were used to acting with restraint, and so they didn’t even try to cross any borders when around other people on the campsite or the hiking trails. At least they could hold hands sometimes, hiking along less frequented paths. Once, they got up just after dawn and made a short hike by themselves just to be able to find a secluded spot and enjoy a passionate kissing session, lying on the grass under the canopy of trees, in the pale morning light. It felt like heaven after a week of being so close, yet unable to act on their desires.

Other than the erotic torture, which shouldn’t have been a priority on this trip anyway, they were having a lot of fun. It was a time for bonding even closer with Kurt’s family and getting to know more of each other. It was physically exhausting, because they hiked for hours every day, but at the same time incredibly relaxing. Free of the everyday life and well-known surroundings, they rested in every possible way, for the first time fully realizing how much they both needed it after this damn year. They restored their energy levels, gathered strength, and fell even more in love.

Burt didn’t really want to know about his sons’ sex life. He believed that his role as a parent was to raise and prepare them so that when the time and the person was right, they were ready to make smart, responsible decisions and be safe. So he hardly ever thought about what happened behind the closed door to Kurt’s room when Blaine was sleeping over. Sure, he worried sometimes, he couldn’t help it, knowing how vulnerable they both were, but he trusted them to be respectful and good for each other. They’ve been together about five months, if he counted properly, and all he knew was that they kissed.

On the last day of their trip, they hiked to a small, clean lake hidden in the forest. It was their destination for the day and the plan was to swim and cool off – they were wearing swimming trunks and suits underneath their clothes – and then dry in the sun and have a picnic before heading back to the camp and packing up for the return trip.

It was a beautiful, secluded spot, bathed in sunlight. The water looked inviting; according to the guide, it was safe and not too deep. Finn was the first to dive in, having undressed in seconds, and soon he was splashing joyfully and calling for the others to join him. Carole was already in a bathing suit, waiting for Burt, who was taking his shorts off. He was just about to ask Kurt if he was sure he wouldn’t want to swim too – it was a routine that went back years; ever since Kurt was still a pre-teen he preferred to sit in the shade, fully clothed, always saying something about the sun and skin and ultraviolet light and stuff.

But when Burt looked over to the right, he saw Blaine standing shirtless, in loose red swimming trunks, watching Kurt with awe in his eyes. Kurt, who… Burt’s mouth fell open. His son was just pulling off his t-shirt without a second of hesitation, before folding it quickly and laying it next to his shorts on a neat pile. Then he stood there in his own blue trunks that Burt didn’t remember having seen before, suddenly a good looking young man, no longer the child he’d been when Burt had last seen him like this, and flashing a quick, easy smile.

“So, are we swimming or not?”

Burt nodded and moved towards water, thinking gratefully that even though he didn’t want to know about his son’s sex life, it was good to see that Blaine must obviously be doing something right for Kurt’s self-esteem. Even if that something involved removal of clothes.