7. CLUBS AND CAFES 

A month passes in a blink - Blaine never thought he could be so happy. He wakes up excited to go to work and comes home smiling, satisfied with how he spent the day. Being immersed in music most of the time makes his inspiration skyrocket and new song ideas crowd his head. The customers love him and Robbie seems very happy with his work. Blaine feels like he’s found the perfect job for his needs.

His friendship with Kurt is blooming too. Kurt’s Saturday thing has now officially become their thing. They are a team; the kids from the group home love them to pieces, and it’s not unrequited. They seem to fill a void in Blaine’s heart he never knew was there. Of course, it’s not the only thing he does with Kurt. Hardly a day goes by without them meeting. They drop by each other’s places unannounced so often they’ve traded spare keys. At some point they’ve decided it’s a waste of time to cook every day if they end up eating together anyway, so now they just decide who makes dinner on which day or when they eat out. They often go out together, to the movies and concerts, to bars or cafés, or meetings with other friends. Surprisingly, they haven’t gotten bored with each other yet, not by a long shot.

Tonight they are out too, celebrating. Kurt finally got a big role; it’s not lead, but it’s much more than he’s ever gotten before, so the occasion calls for some letting go and getting a little crazy. They do; they end up in a club, dancing till they can barely move, drinking tequila without one thought of unavoidable hangovers. Tomorrow is ages away, tonight is what counts. Kurt’s eyes are discreetly outlined in black eyeliner, his skin sparkles coldly with glitter, and in his skintight black leather pants and silver top that’s just about to slide off one shoulder he looks every bit the model he is. His movements are fluid, catlike, and god, he emanates sexy. Half the guys in the club are eyeing him hungrily and Blaine is absolutely certain many of them are questioning their heterosexuality right now. They both dance with many people – Blaine mostly flirted with by girls – but always find their way back to one another.

Around midnight they’re already drunk and dancing so close they’re practically grinding, their hips glued together, and Blaine can’t help but groan quietly at the heat seeping from Kurt hard cock sliding against his own without warning. He can feel his friend shiver, his bare arms sliding to Blaine’s neck and the small of his back, pulling him in, even closer, and Kurt’s moan is just pornographic. When he starts gyrating his hips against Blaine’s, it’s almost too much.

“Kurt, fuck…” he chokes out, lips pressed against the sweaty skin of the other man’s neck. “I’ll come right here if you keep doing that.”

Kurt doesn’t seem concerned, his body pressing close, all toned muscles and smooth skin, his smell an overwhelming mixture of perfume and Kurt, heady. His tongue slides up Blaine’s neck, making him whimper, before he whispers hoarsely in his ear.

“Don’t you dare. You’ll come when I let you.”

That almost does it, but Kurt bites his neck sharply and Blaine gets distracted for a moment, long enough to get a grip on himself. Then Kurt’s tongue is soothing the sting, drawing wet, hot circles there as his mouth is sucking on the heated skin. Blaine moans, long and ragged, the sound lost in the music, but Kurt hears. Grabbing Blaine’s hand, he pulls him through the dancing crowd, navigating with an ease that should be impossible after so many shots. They turn somewhere, once, twice, the flashing lights disorienting, until Blaine can feel thick fabric slide against his skin and away, and then they are in total darkness, the music muted, and Kurt is pressing against him frantically, kissing, biting, sucking at his neck like he’s never tasted anything better, his hands unbuttoning Blaine’s fly.

He almost explodes at the first stroke of Kurt’s hand, his knees bucking, stopped just short by “Not until I let you, Blaine” growled – growled! – in his ear. It’s the sweetest kind of torture, every move of Kurt’s hand sending sparks over Blaine’s skin, his muscles tensed into stone, his breathing fast and shallow, laced with sounds he’d be ashamed of making in any other circumstances, all need and lust and begging. The darkness intensifies all other sensations and he feels rather than sees Kurt lowering himself to his knees in front of him, his lips immediately attaching to a hipbone and sucking, his hand never even changing its rhythm. It’s too much, entirely too much, but Blaine can’t come, he can’t until Kurt lets him, so he closes his eyes, bites his lip and just feels, his whole body waiting, strung almost too tight by the hot breath against his belly, teeth grazing his skin, hand playing with his balls. So when Kurt finally says, “You can come now,” and his mouth slides over Blaine’s cock a second later, not stopping until the head hits the back of his relaxed throat, it takes just several smooth slides in the tight velvet heat of Kurt’s mouth enveloping him, and he’s pulsing with release.

It seems like exhaustion and alcohol finally get to him then, because the next thing he knows, he’s slumped on a hard floor, muscles uncooperative and heavy like lead, and someone – Kurt – is buttoning his pants back up. Then it’s all unreal and foggy, flashing in too bright, blurry sequences; fresh night air, someone easing him into a cab, some stairs and a lost battle with a keyhole, someone taking the keys from him. And then Blaine wakes up in a darkened bedroom with a headache of the century.

He groans and tries not to move too much as he glances at a clock on his bedside table. But there’s something else there, something that makes him forget all about time and thank all the gods he can think of – two pills of Advil lie right by a bottle of water, as if waiting for him to wake up. Blaine swallows the pills quickly, drinks half the water, and falls back onto the pillows, groaning.

The next time he wakes up, he feels a lot better. Well, his mouth is still dry and he feels dizzy, but at least there’s no knife stabbing through his skull when he moves. He sits up and drinks some more water, finally managing to actually check the time; it’s almost noon. Blaine takes in his surroundings. He’s in his own bedroom, lying on top of his bedspread, covered with a blanket. He doesn’t have his boots on, but other than that, he’s still in the clothes he wore last night to the club. Ooh, the club, right! That’s why he feels like shit. There was dancing and tequila and more dancing and he must have drunk too much after all. Well, at least he got such a hot dream out of it.

Blaine gets up, intent on washing off the sweat and smell of alcohol that seem to seep through every pore of his skin. Shedding his clothes on the way to the bathroom and depositing them in the hamper, he stretches, passing a full-length mirror on a closet door. And freezes.

His skin has never been marked by another person, not in a sexual way. No scratch marks. No bruises where fingers dug a little too hard. No hickeys. So seeing his neck and collarbones covered with perfect, dark purple marks now is shocking. He looks lower, only to find more hickeys on his hipbones and stomach. There’s even one high on his thigh. Blaine runs his fingertips over the marked skin and groans. There’s no way he’ll be able to cover his neck so that none of these are visible. He feels branded. Owned.

A thought that makes him painfully hard in a matter of seconds.

There’s no sign of hangover whatsoever on Kurt’s face when he opens the door to let Blaine in an hour later – his a wizard with make-up after all – but he looks anxious and tense. One look at a light summer scarf around Blaine’s neck and guilt flashes in Kurt’s eyes, loud and clear. He reaches to unwind the scarf and gasps, hand covering his mouth. Hesitantly, he lifts the hem of Blaine’s shirt and pales.

“Fuck. I hoped I just imagined doing it.”

“Well, I thought I dreamed it until I looked in the mirror.”

“I’m sorry Blaine. I know it doesn’t change anything, but I really am sorry. And alcohol shouldn’t be an excuse, but…”

“Why?”

“What?”

Blaine shrugs.

“Why are you sorry? I don’t mind. It was fucking hot. I know we slipped from the no benefits rule, but so what? It happens. Don’t worry about it.”

“But… you can’t go to work like this.”

“So I’ll wear scarves. Or you’ll teach me your tricks with concealer.”

Kurt brightens a little, visibly relieved.

“I will. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re my friend and a married man and I know that and it still didn’t stop me. What does that make me?”

“Human, Kurt. Just human.”

“And you really aren’t mad at me?” Kurt looks at him hopefully and even if Blaine was mad, he’d have to stop right then under his gaze.

“I’m really not. But I am hungry. Feed me, feed me, feed me!”

Kurt laughs and they go to the kitchen to fix something to eat. When they’re sitting over plates of eggs and bacon moments later, Kurt looks at Blaine seriously.

“You know you’ve got to talk with Jessica, right? You can’t procrastinate forever.”

Blaine sighs heavily.

“I know, I know. I will. Just as soon as I don’t look like I got attacked by an angry octopus, alright?”

At least Kurt has the decency to throw toast at him, and not eggs.

Two weeks later Blaine is pacing back and forth across his small living room, with Kurt sitting patiently on the couch. He has to leave in ten minutes and he hasn’t been this nervous in a long time.

“Kurt, why can’t you go with me? I need support! Friends give friends support!” He knows he’s whining, but he can’t help it.

“We talked about it, Blaine.” Kurt is a picture of patience. “If I go with you, it will ruin any chances you have of resolving it on friendly terms. You can’t tell a girl you’re gay and then come end it officially with a gay friend by your side.”

“But you’re not my boyfriend.” Something flashes over Kurt’s face. Impatience at last? They’ve been over this twice already. But his voice is perfectly calm and soothing.

“No, but she doesn’t know that. And you are incapable of lying. What if she asks if you’ve slept with me?”

Blaine sighs. He knows Kurt’s right, of course. But he’d feel so much calmer with him there. Oh well. It’s his problem to deal with. He’ll survive.

“Wish me luck.”

Kurt gets up to hug him tightly.

“You’ll be fine. Whatever happens, remember you did the right thing. For yourself, and for her too. And when you’re done, I’ll be at home waiting for you. With dinner and wine.”

That’s a comforting thought.

Jessica is already at the café when Blaine arrives, five minutes early. They nod at each other politely, not touching or kissing. He orders coffee for both of them, knowing exactly the way she always drinks it, and they settle at a solitary corner table. Jess takes him in with her piercing blue eyes and smirks.

“Well well, someone got laid.”

Blaine pales.

“What?”

“You had sex. You’re not the shy blushing virgin anymore.”

He doesn’t say anything. Kurt is right, he can’t lie convincingly. And honestly, he doesn’t want to lie about it. It would be denying who he is, and he’s done doing it. Jess laughs.

“It’s okay. Just, tell me… was it a guy?”

He blushes, still unable to look at her.

“Yes.”

“So you really are gay.”

“I am.”

“And here I tried to get into your pants so many times and it turns out you were utterly uninterested. At first I thought it was just me, but you never looked at anyone that way; finally I did some research; for a while I thought maybe you were asexual. Which I would have been fine with, but it turns out I’m just the wrong gender.” She sighs. “You really didn’t know before?”

Blaine unwinds slowly, his nerves settling a little. It’s not that bad so far.

“I guess I didn’t let myself see it. The one time I let out that I found guys attractive, my family launched a whole campaign to set me straight. Literally. I was twelve and they never stopped. And they can be very persuasive.”

Jessica nods, something like compassion in her eyes.

“I can believe that. I spent three days with your parents and the thought that I could have lived with them stopped being nice and quickly became scary. They’re really… opinionated, aren’t they?”

Blaine snorts.

“That’s one way to put it.”

They smile at each other, a thread of understanding between them. There’s a moment of silence as they both drink their coffee, before Jess speaks.

“My parents want me to make this as difficult for you as possible. They’re furious, everyone knows already that their daughter got dumped right after her wedding. It’s the gossip of the decade; I don’t know how they’ll ever survive this.”

Blaine can feel his blood pressure rising. He’s done his research and knows that he can apply for annulment himself, since their marriage was never consummated, but if Jess wanted, she could make it a very long, difficult and expensive process. And with what he just told her, he’s basically given her all the ammunition she’d need. But honestly… maybe that’s just what he deserves. He never wanted to hurt anyone, but the truth is, he had. He fiddles with his coffee, afraid to look at her.

“I’m sorry, Jess. I really am. You should never have had to go through all this. But the truth is, I’d have hurt you more if I’d stayed. I love you, but not the way a husband should; just… like a friend, a sister. You deserve someone who will truly love you in every possible way and will spend his whole life making you happy, and I’m just not that person.”

The soft tone of her voice surprises him and he looks up.

“I know, Blaine. And I won’t make any trouble. I’ll apply for annulment next week and we’ll deal with it like civilized people we are. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”

“Wait… you’re not mad with me? You don’t want revenge?”

Jess smiles sadly.

“I was mad for a while. I was brokenhearted. Now? I’m mostly just sad. You said it yourself, you’re unable to love me the way I want you to. But I love you and I want you to be happy. Are you happy?”

Blaine feels tears sting his eyes.

“I am. I’m happier than I’ve ever been before, I think. I finally know who I am, I have a job I love and I’m free to live the way I want to.”

“I’m glad then. So, you basically admitted you got laid. Does that mean you have someone?”

“No. I’m married, remember?”

She smiles sadly.

“We both know it’s just a formality, it doesn’t really mean anything. Go on and live your life. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll wait. That’s the least I can do.”

They finish their coffee, but there’s not much to say anymore, so they say their goodbyes soon and go their separate ways. Blaine feels like he’s closing the door to his old life for good.