9. A YEAR

Blaine wasn’t planning to acknowledge this day in any way, let alone celebrate it; neither of them even mentioned it. But as soon as he woke up this morning, it was a thought that kept pounding in his head with every heartbeat, flashing through his brain again and again, following him through his routine like a badly hiding stalker.

Exactly a year ago, on a morning so early it was still night, Blaine had been raped. Soon after, broken, bloodied and in pain, he’d called Kurt’s number, making his first step on the way that led him, through hurt, anguish, nightmares, tears and therapy, to where he was now. To hope and acceptance, and love. It was a good place to be.

Yet, if he was being truly honest with himself, Blaine felt painfully disappointed. Because yes, he’d acted mature and reasonable, talking about how he was aware that it would always influence his life somehow, and how he accepted it. But the truth was, he’d honestly believed, when he’d ended his therapy and started doing so much better, that a year after the rape he would be whole and perfectly fine again, back to normal. That he would be able to forget about it completely, leave it behind like a little bump on the road.

Which didn’t happen and it was making him crazy. Sure, he was good and honestly happy most of the time, with Kurt, his family, his friends. The future was open and bright before him. But there were still a lot of things that kept reminding him, every single day, that he’d been broken. Even though he was mostly fixed now, glued back together beautifully, there were still so many cracks visible, places where something was chipped or missing, all those imperfections that just wouldn’t disappear.

He still didn’t feel completely comfortable with other people. Still kept his distance and avoided being touched by all but Kurt and a handful of his closest friends. There were still nights when he woke up covered in cold sweat, scared and gasping for air; when he would lie shivering until morning, listening to the playlist he’d made from Kurt’s CD, over and over.

And then there were triggers. Oh, the triggers. This was what frustrated and hurt Blaine most of all. The way Kurt had to keep being careful around him, even – or maybe mostly – in intimate moments. The things, so many of them, that Blaine wanted to be able to do, but couldn’t because his body and mind turned against him. There was no way to turn it off, no magic spell to make it right. He could only wait and be patient, be with Kurt the way he could, and hope, always hope, that with time, he’d be able to offer him more and to take everything Kurt wanted to give him. That one day he’d be able to open up completely, trust so infinitely that his mind wouldn’t stop him from laying himself open and vulnerable, completely bare and ready for everything.

But he rebelled against all of this sometimes. He fought with himself, struggled against his invisible restraints. And today, on this dreadful anniversary, he was, more than ever, so mad about them. He felt like a prisoner in his own body, his mind a ruthless warden. And with it being Sunday and his parents away, he needed a distraction, bad. So he called the best distraction he knew.

An hour later, Kurt was at the door. Blaine didn’t even try to pretend he’d asked him to come so that they could talk or watch something, or hang out. Pressing your boyfriend against a wall without even a hello and kissing his neck in all the right spots so that he whimpered and shivered in thirty seconds flat couldn’t be called pretending, could it? It had never been like this between them before, they were always slow, careful, loving, but oh, it felt so good now.

Somehow they ended up in his bedroom moments later, urgently tugging on their own clothes in a hurry to uncover more skin. Blaine was faster – fewer layers and his need palpable, burning in his blood, spurring him on – and before Kurt even managed to toss his undershirt on a nearby chair, he was already almost done with the buttons of Kurt’s pants, which were a bit less tight today, thank god. Blaine was moving blindly, his lips busy tracing his boyfriend’s collarbone, so when he finally slipped his hand into the newly unbuttoned fly, he moaned loudly.

“Kurt,” he breathed raggedly. “No underwear?”

The best, sexiest, most gorgeous boyfriend in the world smiled bashfully, giving Blaine the look, the one with tilted head and peeking up through his eyelashes.

“Oh well, I had a feeling they would be impractical today. Just one more thing to launder. So, no underwear. Is that okay?”

“So, so okay…”

That was all he managed to say before he was gently pushing Kurt towards the bed and down, until they were laying on the covers. Blaine lost no time in following his favorite pathways over the gloriously pale skin of Kurt’s chest, his hand immediately moving back into his pants, to his cock, so hard and hot, and fitting perfectly into Blaine’s hand, as if it was created to be there.

For a while it was enough, the burning urge to fight against his restraints temporarily dampened with Kurt’s moans; his cock, big and solid, slick with pre-come in Blaine’s hand; his stuttering hips; what this was doing to Kurt’s lightly defined abs, so delicious that Blaine just had to kiss there, to feel them shift and tremble under his lips.

And this brought him close, oh so close to his hand moving over Kurt’s cock, so close he could smell him, clean, masculine, and it was suddenly so obvious, so tempting. There was a pull in Blaine’s belly, pounding in his head, and he had to use all of his willpower to stop himself from just closing the distance and kissing, licking the pink head of Kurt’s beautiful cock, gleaming with pre-come.

But it wouldn’t be right, this wasn’t what they did, so he snapped out of his hungry daze, made himself tear his eyes away from the breathtaking view and look at Kurt’s face, flushed with arousal, pink lips wet and panting.

“Kurt… Kurt, please…” The stormy eyes opened, confused. “Please, let me taste you? I need to taste you, I just… I want you so much, my lips on you, my tongue, licking, sucking, you in my mouth, filling it…”

Kurt moaned desperately at his words, his eyes rolling and back arching, and Blaine was ready to take this as a yes, because what other answer could it be? But then Kurt’s voice broke in, breathless and strained, and made him stop.

“No! No Blaine, don’t. I’m not ready, and I don’t think you are, either.”

Kurt’s eyes were on him now, earnest and pleading, and Blaine started to protest, because of course  he was ready, he wanted this, so much! But Kurt just shook his head and pulled at his arm to get him face to face and kiss him, hot and wet and feverish. And then Kurt’s hand was reaching to undo Blaine’s pants with quiet desperation, and he whined high in his throat when this didn’t work quite fast enough.

As soon as he was done with the zipper, Kurt’s hand was in his boxer briefs, warm and steady, the other one tugging his pants a little bit down, out of the way, and Kurt was moaning when he stroked Blaine the first few times, as if he had been dying from thirst and was finally able to drink from a jug of wonderfully cold water. It was so sexy, this evidence of how much Kurt wanted him too. Sometimes Blaine still found it hard to believe, there were still days when he wondered how he could be desirable and not repulsive after all that had happened. But moments like this left no doubt in his mind, proved to him over and over again that he could. That he was. To Kurt.

Then Kurt’s free hand pulled on his, leading it back where it started and… oh. Oh. They’d never done this before, never like this, always taking turns instead. So it was new and exciting, and not exactly a step further, but rather exploring some more within the same known boundaries, and it was enough. More than enough, it was amazing and breathtaking, the way their hands seemed to synchronize, quickly finding the rhythm that suited them both and then going with it, sharing kisses, licking into each other’s mouths, air between them hot and filled with moans, pants, their names uttered breathlessly over and over, and I love you’s, and forevers.

And Blaine never believed in the ease with which lovers seemed to just orgasm together, like he’d seen over and over again in the erotic stories he’d used to read on the internet sometimes before the assault happened. But when Kurt froze, his muscles tense and high strung, and then shivered violently, coming with a wordless cry on his lips, Blaine couldn’t help but follow close behind, because this was just unbelievably good, this image and sounds and sensations, Kurt spilling hot and messy all over his hand while his own kept moving, completely without a rhythm or control now, on Blaine’s cock.

They were still lying face to face later, sated and languid, cleaned up only perfunctorily with tissues because they didn’t want to move from the bed, not yet. It was safe here, warm and comfortable, and Blaine felt like purring with contentment. Kurt’s eyes were smiling, his fingers played lazily with the stray curls falling over Blaine’s temple. Even his voice was slow and hushed when he spoke.

“Do you feel better now?”

Blaine raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Speaking was too much effort, as was thinking too hard about what Kurt might have meant.

“Did you think I forgot what day it is?”

Oh. That. He tried to divert the conversation, knowing it was futile.

“Um. Sunday?”

“Blaine.”

Oh well, it had been worth a try. He sighed.

“Yeah. I feel better. Much better, actually. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for being on call. Even for booty calls.”

Humor gleamed in Kurt’s eyes and Blaine felt himself smile.

“Do you really think we’re not ready for blowjobs?”

The question flew from his lips before he realized he was going to speak. His mind was still in a post-sex state of bliss, it seemed. Kurt just quirked an eyebrow.

“Do you think we are? Honestly? It wasn’t just an attempt to push against your boundaries?”

Blaine took a while to really think about it, to judge his own feelings and desires and reactions. And… he wasn’t sure. Today was the first time he actually felt the urge to make this particular step further, the first time when it wasn’t just a thought that maybe, one day, they would. It was a new development, sudden and unexpected, and it probably meant he was okay with getting there soon, but right now…?

Kurt, who was watching him closely, nodded.

“Yeah. I thought so. I want to, too, you know. But I think we should talk about this first and, I don’t know, get used to the thought? Wait for a moment when we both feel it’s just right? Besides, I kind of want it to be special.”

Faint blush crept up Kurt’s cheeks and Blaine blinked.

“Special?”

“Yeah, I mean… everything with you is special, every time we get together like this, every touch, every kiss. But you know how I’m just a silly romantic, and I can’t help thinking I’d like to have a first time that’s planned as really special, with candles and music and a whole night to enjoy each other undisturbed and all that. You know?”

Blaine nodded, because he could imagine it perfectly well and now that he did, he realized he wanted this too. Kurt continued.

“I just want a memory like this, to save in my head forever. And I don’t know, it may be our last first time left, you know? It may be the furthest we’d ever get and I want a chance to celebrate that. Okay?”

He said this all so matter-of-factly that even if Blaine hadn’t believed Kurt’s assertions that he was fine with however far they’d get, he would now. Kurt looked fine, sounded fine, like it was something natural, completely normal that his boyfriend was flawed and imperfect, and may never be able to give him everything he deserved. And Blaine was so grateful, but still, it didn’t change the hard squeeze of regret and anger in his chest. He pushed these feelings down, aside.

“So okay, Kurt. Can I take control then, like you wanted me to, and make the plan? Not now, but somewhere in the near future, when it feels right?”

Kurt smiled so brightly that his eyes sparkled.

“I’d love that.”

“Great. So, you’re right, we really should talk. You say you want blowjobs too? Tell me more about that...”