Chapter 12

Songs Used in This Chapter:
Twin Forks – Back To You
Zedd – Clarity
Pat Benatar – Love is a Battlefield

Hi, guys! Im sorry this is late... Im running around crazy six hours before vacation! Ill be in Florida until Wednesday, but will try to post. I just cant promise anything because I dont know what the Internet situation is going to be like. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one! Review and let me know... hang in there, I promise everything gets better :P

xoxo,
Nikkie

--

The sun is shining high in the nearly cloudless but still December-cold sky, and Kurt squints when he looks up into it.  He slouches back over his old desk and shifts in the chair, hovering over a ratty and worn journal.  He writes as if life depends on it, as if the thoughts in his brain won't compute if he concentrates on something as petty as spelling and grammar and legible handwriting.

It's easy to watch him in this state, almost euphoric and blissfully content with the way this particular situation is laid out in front of him.  Wearing only boxers and a frown, Kurt sighs like a little boy and continues on.  Blaine props himself on his own elbow and allows himself to become mesmerized by each scratch and swirl of Kurt's hand against the lined paper, the thick furrow of Kurt's brow as he's thinking how he should say whatever it is that's so detrimental to convert into something tangible. 

Kurt's written words flow out of his pen easily.  He briefly pauses to flip the page to a fresh one as though he is on some sort of strict deadline.  After a few minutes of frantic, desperate words bleeding out in a disturbing screech against the notebook, Kurt leans to straighten his back and rub at the nape of his neck like he has a cramp.  He speed-reads what just spilled into the world and he clenches and unclenches his fist.  He seems satisfied, but could also just be choking it up to the beauty of a first draft. 

As an English major and Creative Writing minor, Blaine can identify with the feeling of the faux-success before the edit.  The first time around is when the ideas spill out onto the paper as the brain sees fit without thinking, without truly analyzing what should and shouldn't be said, what has to be said and what doesn't.  He sees the look on Kurt's face as he reads back what he's created, and he knows that the edit will be simple, but fiercely needed.  Kurt reads it again and then one more time and sits back to start the process of the reevaluation.  Blaine wishes he could latch onto Kurt's thought process and promise it that the second time around any situation is always better and well thought out.  It is the same experience but with concrete knowledge.  It's always better the second time.

“Come back to bed.”

The slam of the journal and the subsequent bury of it into the single drawer where a keyboard used to live doesn't go unnoticed.  Kurt turns in his chair with a tense look on his face as though he's simply been caught thinking too hard. 

“Kurt?”  Blaine pushes up so he's sitting, facing Kurt in a way that can show him that he's present.  “What's up?”

“Nothing.  Sleep well?  Did I wake you?”

“What were you writing?”

Kurt smiles at him and climbs back into bed, pulling Blaine down into a horizontal position with him and cuddling their legs together.  “You saw that, huh?”

“What was it?”

“The shrink in New York tells me that it's good to have a journal of dreams.”

“You mean nightmares?”  Blaine finds Kurt's fingers and holds onto them the same way an infant would.  “Or good stuff, too?”

“Good stuff, too.”   He leans into Blaine's chest and sniffles.

“But not this time.”

“But not this time.”  Kurt confirms it but he really doesn't have to, what with the saddened facial expression and low, throaty sigh he releases against Blaine's undershirt.

Blaine pulls him closer and kisses his forehead.  “You're okay now?”

“Yeah.”

“Positive?”

“I swear.”

“Okay.”

They lie together, fighting with the silence and the faint sizzle of breakfast they can hear downstairs.  There are mumbles of voices whispering and drawers slamming and then a too-loud bang of a fist against the front door.  Kurt and Blaine continue to cuddle, not once taking their eyes off of each other, blocking out the commotion until it's as far away as possible.  They're gloating in their own personal moments together, before they'll need to cover it back up.  It's like they've gone down the rabbit hole and when they re-surface, they'll never be the same.

Several minutes of spinning into yellow gold and ocean blue pass and Blaine's mouth twitches up in a movement that would have been missed if it didn't linger.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas to you, B.  Love you.”

“You're going to therapy.”

“I am.  It's been just about two years, although I haven't seen her in a long time because I've been here.”

“Are you doing okay without her?”

“Maybe this is the most unhealthy thing I'll ever say, but I don't need her when you're around.”

“Mmm, we should go downstairs.”

“Five more minutes?”

Blaine grins into Kurt's neck and nips at it.  “Love you.”

Kurt moans and turns his face to give Blaine more access.  “Blaine, we can't.”

“I know.”  He sighs.  “I wish this was our forever.”  Blaine plops back down on his back and stares at the ceiling with his palms cradling the back of his head.

“Well…”  Kurt smiles, “Keep wishing, beautiful.  Soon enough.”

God, Blaine hopes so.  Last night after Christmas Eve dinner, Home Alone 2, and homemade mocha macchiatos, Kurt wordlessly led Blaine upstairs and into his bed.  They stripped promptly and thoroughly, thus ensuring that they haven't lost their love yet.  Without any discussion whatsoever, they mended each other's shredded hearts and promised forever.  They didn't have sex, not quite, but it was something almost better.  Just holding each other closely and falling asleep in the arms of the man they love was enough to confirm the connection.  The intense make-out session was simply an added bonuses.  Everything is an act of love when Kurt and Blaine are involved.

They specifically didn't let it get too far, although they both clearly wanted more.  This is for the good of their relationship in the long run; they're still building up the foundation.

Blaine climbs over Kurt's body to find some clothing.  “Do you know if Oliver is still in Ohio?”

“I'm… not sure.  Frankly, after yesterday and the night you and I just had, I really don't care.”

“I don't want to be the only reason why you're breaking it off with him, if that's what you're doing.  And I want you to take some time alone after him if you need it.  I don't want to unintentionally turn into a rebound.”

“Hey.”  Kurt sits up and grabs Blaine's wrist, pulling him back down onto the bed.  “Oliver is the rebound.  You will never be the rebound.”  Kurt bites Blaine's lip but keeps his eyes open.  “Oliver is not what I want, okay?  When I do break it off with him, whenever that is, you will definitely not be the only reason.  But you are a huge one.”

“Are you calling me fat, Hummel, because we already had this discussion.  With you not around to judge my carb intake…”

“Oh my God, shut up.  I adore your little belly.  Can you ever have a serious conversation?”

“For the life of me, I can't get rid of it!  I have even tried a strict running schedule.  I run endless miles every week and for what?”  Blaine pouts down at his stomach.

“It's adorable.”

“You're adorable.”  There's a beat.  “You argued with Oliver about me, didn't you?”

Kurt shrugs.

“I could tell by the way you were in the car yesterday.  What did he say?”

“It's nothing you haven't already heard.”

“Kurt.  What'd he say?  I can handle it.”

“Just that he's…  Blaine this isn't important.”

“It's important if it made you upset.  Tell me or I'll make him tell me.”

Kurt explodes upward and finds some clothing, racing against the clock to get dressed.  “Go ahead.”

Blaine stares at Kurt with his jaw slack and his eyes blinking rapidly.  “Pretty, I-”

“Does the fact that I'm closer to forty than twenty bother you?”  Kurt throws one of Blaine's undershirts on and jumps into a pair of his own pajama pants.

“It's just a number, Kurt.  Why are you bringing this up?  As if this was ever our issue?”

“Are you attracted to Oliver the way he says he likes you?”

“What?”

“My boyfriend is attracted to the man I plan on spending my life with.”  Kurt laughs a bit to himself.  “That freaks me out a little bit.  I'm not made for love triangles, Blaine.  I'm destined to have a forever kind of love.  With you.  Regardless of how much younger you are.”

“Where the fuck is this all coming from?  Honestly, you're scaring me.”

“I feel like I'm holding you back or something.”

“Do you think I feel like you're holding me back?  Because I feel like you're holding yourself back since you keep thinking this way.”

“We're not even together, how could we be?”

“I should ask you the same question.”  There's a beat.  “Is this about your birthday?  About you turning thirty-five tomorrow?”

Kurt looks up at him, pitiful and on the verge of tears.

Blaine hums.  “Okay.  Stop.  You are beautiful and you still have all your hair and it's the color it's always been and there are no wrinkles... yet.”  Blaine grins and cups his chin.  “You're not old yet, Kurt.  Stop.  And I'm not attracted to Oliver the way he evidently is toward me, but I will say that I've had a lot of sexual partners now and you're still the best fuck I've ever had because you love me.”  Blaine tilts his head and sighs. “This is an awkward segue, but all I know is that I can't stop thinking about this fucking threesome to save a life and it's really distracting because I know you're going to be there.  I think that's why I allowed myself to let you cheat on him last night… because I thought maybe I'd stop thinking about it.”  Blaine taps his fingers to his chin and shuffles on the bed to straddle Kurt's body.  “What if I'm on this bed, right?”  Blaine kisses Kurt quick and pops his ass to act out a demonstration.  “Doggy style, like this you know?  You're fucking me from behind, like really impaling me with the sole purpose of inability to walk afterwards or ever again, and Oliver's standing in front of me, just out of reach, and every time I sink back onto your cock, my mouth is further from his cock, so he's like… chasing me for a blowjob and for a split second, I wish I could have both of you at exactly the same time… his cock heavy on my tongue and yours filling me up.”

“Holy shit, B.”  He whispers the words, encouraging Blaine to continue.

“But then, I stay situated on your cock even though you're trying to thrust out.  I make you choose and you clearly choose me because honestly?  So I'm like… all still and refusing to move off of you, you know?”  Blaine lowers his voice for effect.  “And you manage to move…”

Kurt's cock meets Blaine's through his boxers and they find a rhythm.  Their lips connect but Kurt ultimately shuts it down, if only to hear the rest of what Blaine's envisioning. 

“…Rougher than we ever did it before, shit.  And you just let me do whatever I need to so that we can show little Miss Oliver, fuck Kurt, that he is nothing but the dirt on the bottom of my shoe next to me and I make you-uu co-come so hard, so hard Kurt, almost as hard as I did that night at the Lima Bean and almost as hard as I'm about to.”  He pauses, holding Kurt's shoulders down and breathes. “And I'll fucking flip you mid-orgasm so that I can watch you, with my name… not his at the tip of your tongue, and then we can live happily ever… mmmm ahhh, after.”

Blaine allows his eyes to close as he comes hard and fast, Kurt underneath him writhing and on the cusp.  He places the palm of his hand directly to Kurt's cock, and they squirm together to see it through.  Blaine slowly opens his eyes and sees Kurt watching him with a smirk on his lips and a tilt to his head, seconds after letting it all go himself.

“It appears you are made for the triangle, pretty boy.”

Kurt backhands Blaine's cheek playfully and laughs. 

Blaine squirms to protect his face and laughs.  “Hey!  Stop!”  He laughs again then freezes to stare at his… his Kurt.  “You are so beautiful.”

“Look at you.  Are you kidding?”

“Kurt.”

Kurt looks into Blaine's eyes and smiles wide.  “I love you so much.”  He grabs at Blaine's hips and tugs, guiding his hands to Blaine's cock loosely under his boxers so it can breathe, and strokes it a few times to tease.  He connects their lips again and they revel in a too-sloppy, high-school-themed molestation of a kiss.

Kurt pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  “You know in Rent where Mark makes a documentary about not being able to hold an erection because it's a high holy day?”

Blaine giggles because he knows exactly where it's going.  “I'm not Jewish, Kurt.  I'm allowed to have an erection on Christmas.”

Kurt laughs and falls on top of him, singing, “Happy Birthday, Jesus.”

They lie together for only about thirty seconds before Kurt gets off of him and brushes himself off a bit.  “So turns out, I have a deep love for all things Blaine Anderson.”

“If we were to get back together now, with me about to graduate college… how would that work?”

Kurt pulls back to look at him in the eye.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean… long distance relationship, or…  I don't know.  How would it work?”

“Do you remember when we were in New York and I tried to visit Burt and Carole one weekend? You couldn't get away from all your work at Columbia.  Do you remember how miserable we both were?”

“We don't need to talk details yet.  It's not relevant yet.”

“I promise we'll talk about them when they are.”

“Good.  But can you do something for me now?”

“What's that?”

“Stop allowing people… Oliver… inside your head, trying to convince you that stupid shit that never bothered us before is going to put a wrench in our future now.  It sounds like he's trying to pull out all the tricks to keep us apart, and I won't have it.  Even your boyfriend knows you and I are forever, pretty.”

“We partake in more intellectual conversation directly after frottage and dirty talk than I ever could with Oliver and he's two years older than I am.  The fact that you have yet to graduate college blows my mind because you are so beyond your years.  If anything, it should have bothered me when you were in high school.”  Kurt gets up and finds Blaine's old Dalton hoodie thrown in the corner, slipping it on effortlessly.  He disappears into the bathroom for a total of ten seconds and throws a wet rag at Blaine to clean himself up.  He retrieves socks from his drawer, too.  “I feel like it should bother us, but it just doesn't.”

“Love you.  Kurt?”

Kurt laughs and sits back down on the bed.  “What?”

“When this sex thing happens with Oliver, can I have permission to make out with him?”

“Do whatever you want with him, but the kissing goes highly not recommended.  It's gross.”

Blaine props himself up on his knees and clasps his own two hands together through the kangaroo pocket of Kurt's newly claimed sweatshirt, pulling his body back down on top of Blaine.  “How gross?”

“Seriously gross.”

“Show me, pretty.”  Blaine removes his hands trapped between their bodies and threads them through Kurt's hair.  He pulls Kurt's head close and forces a kiss hard onto his lips.  Kurt happily grants access to the taste of his mouth and they're soon making out like teenagers on Kurt's high school bed.  Licking and sucking, they're both trapped in the moment teetering once again into the complication they can't grasp on their own yet.  Surprisingly enough to himself at least, Blaine is the first to break the kiss complete with a warm smile and a need to just hold Kurt close for a few seconds more.

“Mmmm, my Blaine.”

“Your Blaine is very hungry.  Christmas coffee and crepes, maybe?”

Kurt nods and climbs off of him.  “You do realize you're never eating a carb again once we live together?”

“Shut up and gimme a hoodie, pretty boy.”  He throws on some flannel pajama pants, opting for comfort on Christmas Day, as Kurt finds a McKinley hoodie in the closet and they wordlessly waltz down the stairs and into the kitchen.   

Oliver is there, waiting, and scrambles up to retrieve the two coffee cups, thankfully still steaming on the counter.  He hands one cup to Blaine and one to Kurt. “Good morning, guys.”  He leans over to kiss Kurt, but steps back quickly after a small peck that Kurt subconsciously pulls away from as well.  Blaine snickers behind his hand when he realizes that his taste must still be in Kurt's mouth.  Kurt and Blaine exchange a caught look but then Kurt smiles and Blaine has no choice but to take his lead.

“Thanks, man.  I'm sorry about last night… I sometimes forget you don't know all of the history and I got territorial for no reason.  You okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“That's really big of you to apologize, B.  Thanks.”  Kurt adds to Oliver's short response.

Blaine nods and avoids anything further by leaving the two to sit by Burt and Carole, hugging them both tightly and muttering his obligatory “merry Christmas” to his family.

Burt gives Blaine a pointed look, as if to silently ask him what's up.  Blaine holds the cup of coffee up to his lips and whispers, “later.”

xK&Bx

The late lunch that Carole prepares goes as well as it can with the awkward elephant in the room now that Oliver's back without any explanation to Kurt's parents.  Dessert is served and then Blaine is vibrating, begging his family to open presents.

There's plenty of laughter and teasing as everyone takes their time situating themselves in the living room.  Carole mentions that Blaine reminds her of Finn, which brings them to reminiscing about him for an entire hour.  Blaine works to comfort all of them through lame jokes and Oliver sits there like a lump on a log, awkward and entirely the opposite of passionate in helping fix his boyfriend.  Blaine can't possibly figure out why this kid is here.

Presents big and little are finally exchanged: an Italian countryside vacation from Blaine to Burt and Carole, an open “best friends” vacation to anywhere in the world funded by Blaine for him and Kurt, a new “going out” outfit specially designed by Kurt for Blaine.  Kurt gets a new iPad cover and a key from Oliver and, in return, Oliver gets a glimpse of him running away yet again.

The silence is deafening as Burt, Carole, Oliver, and Blaine watch Kurt's shadow disappear up the stairs. 

“Uhh, what's in the box?”  Blaine fists a piece of wrapping paper in an effort to distract himself with something, anything.

“Um, a key to my apartment.”

“Oh.  Shit.”

“Blaine, sweetie?  Would you go check on him?  He'll refuse to talk to any of us about this.” 

“Yeah, yeah.  Of course.  I'll um, yeah.”  He gets up and swallows the lump in his throat.  He's not entirely sure what to say, seeing as Kurt's never not wanted to move forward in the relationship he once had with him.  Blaine can't relate. 

He climbs the stairs slowly and lightly knocks three times on the door.  He peaks in with only the top of his head.  “I come in peace.  Only me.”

Kurt sits up and crosses his legs on the edge of the bed; he watches Blaine approach him and sit as well, also crossing his legs so their knees touch.  “I can't move in with him.”

“He went about it in a completely wrong way.  Does it scare you that you don't want to?” 

“That's confirming that we're serious.  And we're not.  We're barely together.”

“You know, Kurt.  On the outside, it's kinda obvious you're together.  You brought him home to your family for Christmas.”

“I didn't invite him!  He only came because he knew you would be here.”  Kurt sucks in a breath as Blaine puts his hands on Kurt's thighs; they're serving as anchors by point of contact now.  “I need to call it off with him.”

“I'm just going to agree with you here and say nothing more.”

“After my birthday.”

“Whenever you feel it's necessary.”

“After the threesome.”

Blaine laughs.  “Baby, I'm not pushing you to have sex with me and your boyfriend, okay?”  He wipes a tear from Kurt's face before lips capture it.  “It might be fun and daring and… different than what we're used to, but you don't have to do anything like that just to prove a point to me.  I already know where your heart lies, and honestly?  If anything needed to be proven, it was last night and this morning.”

“I don't know why I ever thought I might be fine without you.”

“I don't care about the past.  I'm here with you now and I will do whatever you need me to do, okay?”

Kurt nods.  “Do you remember a while back you were trying to figure out if you should go see Christian in the hospital?  I said that I work well with situations that offer me some closure?  I think sex would be a good form of closure with him, but I want you there because it's like… I'm taking myself back from him and giving all of me to you.  Is that disgustingly cheesy?”

“So disgusting.  I'm repulsed and I might puke all over you right now.”  It's not said with bite; the grin plastered on Blaine's face shows that it's a tease.  “I love you.  Even the cheese.”

“I'm going to make us better.  I'm sorry I freaked out.”

“Understandable reasons, babe.  But when I give you a house key in a box, you better fucking start packing.”

“Can I have the key to the condo back?”

“Of course you can.  God, Kurt that makes me so happy.”  Blaine attacks him by way of forceful hug, an unspoken promise to never let go.

“I'm never letting you leave ever again, Anderson.  So don't plan on it.”

“I don't ever want to.”

xK&Bx

A calmer Kurt and a puffy-chested, proud Blaine enter the living room again.  This time, they're hand-in-hand without a care in the world of who sees.  They're tangled and close at every joint up through their shoulders.

At Burt's frown, Blaine immediately retreats to an entirely different side of the living room and Kurt gingerly sits, not too close, next to Oliver just in time for the movie they've already cued up to start.  Oliver kisses Kurt's temple and pulls him into his arms.

“I'm sorry I freaked you out, Kurt.”

“You didn't.  It was just inappropriate in front of my family.  We'll talk about it later.”

The opening credits begin, and all Blaine can do is watch the reflection off of Kurt's eyes pointedly concentrating, too hard, on the movie and not enough on his boyfriend.  He can't help but stare at his mannerisms and fidgets until Carole kicks him playfully, successfully snapping him out of it.  Carole and Burt whisper to each other and they get up to do dishes in the kitchen.  Suddenly, Blaine is trapped with Kurt and Oliver and it's all he can do to make this tolerable. 

He switches positions, and puts his head in Kurt's lap.  Blaine looks up at him with shining eyes, obviously begging Kurt to play with his hair.  When Kurt's hand races to Blaine's scalp, Blaine grins and shifts again until it's comfortable enough to watch the television screen.  The buzz in his pocket matches the one next to his ear in Kurt's pants.  They both dig until they're holding their phones; ignoring Oliver is almost too easy.

Santana:  Merry Christmas, guys! 
Santana: In celebration of Kurt's 76th birthday, we are showing these out-of-towners Scandals tomorrow night. 
Santana: Dress smart and everyone thank Blaine for keeping the drinks flowing!

“No, please no.”  Kurt groans.  “Blaine, shut it down.”

“No way José, we're going.”

Kurt:  San, we'd love to, and thank you for the invitation but… no.  Really, you guys don't have to do that.  Why don't you and Willa come over for dinner and we'll… cook.
Santana:  Live a little before the walker, Humz.
Blaine:  I didn't agree to this, but I'm agreeing to it now.  Let's get drunk!

“Blaine!  What the hell are you doing?”

Blaine sits up and rolls his eyes.  “Oh come on, it'll be fun.  We've never gone to a gay bar together, have we?”

Kurt:  I'm not going.  Good luck celebrating a birthday with someone who's not even there.
Santana:  This is my way of accepting your apology, Blanderson.
Blaine:  I'm sorry.  I love you, Striptease. 
Blaine:  You're going, Hummel.

“You're going.”

“I'm not.”

Kurt:  Can't we do something a little more mid-thirties?  Do we have to get sloshed like we're Blaine's age?
Santana:  Yes.
Blaine:  Yes.
Blaine:  Tell your boyfriend we're getting drunk in celebration of you, pretty.

“You tell him.  You're right next to him.”

“Tell me what?”  Oliver is observing every move, but he remains ignored.

Blaine laughs out loud and looks up again at Kurt.  “Kurt, we've never actually been drunk together.”

“Mmmm, sure we have.”

“On something harder than a sophisticated Cabernet from the depths of the Napa Valley, old man.”  He rolls his eyes and gets up so he's sitting.  “Just because you're in your 60s does not mean I am.  Keep up, I'm almost in my mid-twenties!  I am going to get you so drunk on hard liquor.”

Blaine does not miss Oliver's cringe.

“Blaine?”  Kurt scoots closer to him.

“Hmm?”

“I hate you and also shut up.”  He turns to Oliver.  “We're apparently going out tomorrow, Oli.  For my 76th birthday.”

Blaine watches Oliver's face fall.

“I thought you said it'd be a quiet night in.”

Blaine bites his lip and takes the couple's empty plates from the coffee table in front of them.  “I'm going to bed, you guys.  Rest up for the club, you know?”  He pads behind the couch and kisses the top of Kurt's head and proceeds into the kitchen.  He puts the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, kisses Carole's cheek, and makes it upstairs for some alone time. 

As he showers, Blaine still can't stop thinking about the threesome that's floating just out of reach since Kurt's mentioned it, and it doesn't seem fair that Kurt's now into something so… public to share with them when the details of their sex life are to remain sacred.  He knows that he seems to be totally fine with it on the surface, but he finds that he's actually really nervous.  Blaine thought that they always kept the special moments held safely in their hearts, and now all they want to do is fuck in front of another person.  It's not them; it's a disgusting turn of events.  He knows he doesn't have to do it but it goes back to making sure Kurt is satisfied, and for that he'd do anything.

He needs to make real plans and not, under any circumstance, chicken out.

He ties his towel around his hips and can only get started on figuring out pajamas when there's a knock on the bedroom door.  He pulls it open as he's inserting his arms into a plain, white tee shirt and smiles when it's Kurt.  Of course it's Kurt.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Kurt sighs.  “Mmm.”  He walks into Finn's old room and twirls back to look at Blaine.  “Blaine.”

Blaine preens, straightens his back, and runs his hand through damp curls.  “You know, Kurt.  If you keep disappearing when I disappear, people are going to start talking.” 

“Mmmm… I'm sorry.  I don't know what I'm doing here.”  He sits on the corner of the bed. 

“Uh huh…”

He seems to come to an epiphany.  “Just to say goodnight.  I came in here to say goodnight.”  He stands and paces across the bedroom; only a few strides are enough to let Blaine into his head.  He's conflicted; he's torn.  He's stuck in the middle of a situation he put himself into and he's not sure how to get out alive. 

Blaine knows that in order to keep Kurt happy, he must make this easy.  As much as he wants to grab his face and bring him over the edge several times tonight, Blaine only pecks his lips against Kurt's and says, “Goodnight, pretty.  I love you.”  Kurt smiles at him and slips back into the hallway.  It's funny how something as small as a sliver of hope, a microscopic piece of faith growing on a Petri dish, can keep Blaine's positive thoughts intact.  He sleeps easily; slumber takes him under fast and strong.  It'll all be fine.

xK&Bx

He wakes of a nightmare, a faceless monster chasing after Kurt and Kurt running far away completely out of Blaine's reach. Blaine lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, impatiently waiting for sleep to take him again to no avail.  Eventually, he throws on the same sweatshirt from this morning and pads down the stairs with his hands clasped in the kangaroo pocket.  He's become a tea person at night, so he digs through until he finds Carole's supply.

He stares at the teakettle with the help of only a distant light from the hallway and he waits.  He doesn't think of anything, for the first time, only the good of his boiling water.  He glances at the clock and sighs when he realizes it's four in the morning and he has yet to get any rest.  He shifts a bit to lean over the counter and folds his hands to support his chin against the granite.  He misses the life he had with Kurt and he hopes that it all resolves itself soon; it's all he'll ever want.

He wipes furiously at his face, willing himself not to let his eyes leak.  Whatever he does, he can't cry anymore.  He's been a weak little boy for so many years without Kurt, cutting himself down to size and thoroughly believing he can't live up to his potential because that's exactly what his family always told him.  Now, he's determined to forget about his father, get Kurt back, and move on with the life he's supposed to lead.

Contrary to his constant inner monologue of don't cry asshole, he sobs to the point of not being able to catch his breath.  He slouches further into himself over the freezing cold granite of the countertop and shakes horrendously through all of the emotions he's unable and virtually unwilling to bottle up anymore.  It hasn't been easy being Blaine these past few years, and he only allows himself to truly break down when he's utterly alone.

The brighter light in the kitchen flicks on.

“Blaine?”

Blaine stands up straight and wipes again at his eyes, brushing a man-made pond off his cheekbones, laughing bitterly only because he is caught.  He turns and tilts his head but buries himself as much as he can when he sees who it is.

“Do you want me to get Kurt?”

Blaine looks at Oliver and shakes his head.  “I'm fine.  What are you doing up?”

“Can't sleep.”  Oliver sits at the table.  “Kurt.”  He adds with a shrug.

The irony of them both awake because of the games Kurt's putting them through seeps into Blaine's skin like a mosquito bite.  He huffs. 

“How did you ever move on after him?”

“You'll figure it out.  Are you breaking up with him?”  The teakettle starts to chime; he's literally saved by the bell.  “Do you want tea?”

“Sure.”

Blaine gets another cup and teabag down from the cupboard and pours hot water into both.  He puts one in front of Oliver at the table and slides the sugar and milk over to him.

They silently sip their tea, Blaine having a full conversation with Oliver but only in his head.  He sits up straighter when Oliver starts to talk.

“He's run away from me twice, now.  Personally, I think he has someone else entirely on his mind every time I ask him to take a big step with me.”

Blaine takes a sip of his tea.  It's entirely too hot and he burns his tongue.

“It feels like when he fools around with me, he's cheating on you.”

Blaine sighs and stares at his tea.  He swirls it around with his spoon and watches the whirlpool he's created in a coffee mug.  “I don't know what to say to you, Oliver.  Things between me and Kurt have always been so…  all or nothing, I guess.  It's natural for us to act the way we do when we see each other again.”

“Can I share something with you?  Can I trust that you won't tell him this?”

Blaine nods.

“I overheard you talking the other night.  You really do love each other.  I'd be stupid to hold him away from that.”  Oliver studies Blaine; Blaine lets him.  “This threesome is like closure for me.”

“Jesus.”  Blaine gulps down the rest of his tea and slams his mug down.  Oliver does the same and retreats quietly upstairs.  He swallows and puts the mugs in the sink, rinsing them out but unfocused on all steps it takes to do such a chore.  He sits back down at the table and stares at the clock on the wall until it's five.  When he hears someone new padding down the stairs, he knows it's Kurt.  He still wakes up early sometimes because of the schedule he has with the coffee shops, and although Blaine didn't stay up specifically to wait for Kurt, he knew that his sleeping schedule was still a bit off.  Blaine turns his head slowly as he hears footsteps down the hall and then eventually into the kitchen.

“Hey, Kurt.”

Kurt must jump ten feet.  “Shit!  Oh, Blaine!  What are you doing up?”

Blaine shrugs and stands.  He approaches Kurt wearily with a sad, half-smile on his face. 

Kurt opens his arms, fitting him to lean thickly on his chest.  Kurt's shirt is soaking from tears within seconds as he sways them back and forth for what Blaine is convinced is a half-ass attempt to comfort.  Time stands still until Blaine can catch his breath and figure out a way to speak.

“Kurt.”

“Mmhmm?”

“I know I say it like it's nothing, but I really, really love you so much.”

“Mmmm, I know you do honey.  I love you too.  Sometimes words aren't enough to show you how much, but I promise I do too.”

Blaine sucks in all of the air he can hold on the insides of his cheeks and looks back up at Kurt.

Kurt squeezes him tighter and kisses his hair.  “Always saving me, baby boyfriend.”

“That's my line, and I'm not your boyfriend, Hummel.”

“We'll see about that… Anderson.” 

“We will, won't we?”

“Are you okay?  You break my heart all over again crying like that.”

“I'm fine, pretty boy.”  Blaine steps away and nods, mostly to himself.  “Sorry.”

“Come on.”  Kurt seems to make a decision quickly and takes his hand, tangling their fingers together, leading Blaine back upstairs and straight into their once-shared bedroom.

Blaine smiles.  “I don't want to get you in trouble with Oliver.”

“Okay, Blaine.”  Kurt deadpans.  “If you could run any faster with those hobbit legs of yours, you'd be banging down his door just to let him know you're gonna sleep with me in my bed right now.”  There's a beat.  “For the second night in a row.”

“No, I wouldn't.”  Blaine bows his head and blushes, hiding a grin in his chin.  “We had a weird conversation earlier, me and him.”

“Uhhhh, really?”  He climbs into his bed and uncovers his legs as an invitation for Blaine to join him. 

Blaine plops down and slouches in close to Kurt's body and rests his head on a pearly, pale chest.  “Goodnight, pretty.”

Kurt laughs.  “You're not going to tell me anything he said, are you?”  Kurt brushes his lips against Blaine's and smiles.  Blaine smiles back, because of all the tiny moments they've managed to share on this trip so far, that was just the one that meant the most.

“Not a chance.  Maybe when he's outta here for good.”

“So you know how we started saying ‘I love you' again pretty much right when we got back in touch?”

“Mmhmm?”  Blaine scrambles in closer to cuddle.  “Does that bother you now or something?  I mean it when I say it, I swear.”

“No!  No, of course not.  I just wanted to tell you that not only do I love you, but I'm in love with you, Blaine Anderson, and I'm not sure if I ever was not in love with you in all the time we didn't talk and didn't see each other.  All the time we spent apart these past few years and I'm still hopelessly in love with you.  Only you.”

“Well.  That's really good.”

“I can't tell if you're being sarcastic, you little fuck.”

Blaine laughs and kisses his forehead.  “No, I'm not being sarcastic.  I'm saying that it's really good because that feeling is so much better when the feeling is mutual.”

Blaine leans in and captures Kurt's mouth, cradling the back of his head, and slots his knee between Kurt's knees.  He breaks away as quickly as it happens and he promptly turns his back to Kurt.  “I call little spoon.  Happy Birthday, baby.”

xK&Bx

Kurt remains awake for several hours.  He'd toss and turn if Blaine didn't plaster his body with sweat and overall connection, but he doesn't mind.  His Blaine is beautiful, especially when unconscious, as it's the only time he is willing to take a compliment and Kurt openly revels in the chance Blaine's given him to stare.  In his sleep, Blaine snuggles his hair deeper into Kurt's shoulder and all he can do is sigh in bliss of warmth resonating off of Blaine.  He feels comfortable, safe, sewn together.  He feels complete. 

It's Kurt's birthday, and he should want to spend it with his boyfriend.  Instead, a boy he dated prior is wrapped in his arms and snoring soundly; there's no one else he wants to be cuddling with in this moment.  He shifts his eyes to stare again at Blaine, deep in sleep and bottling up the rest he's lost because of Kurt's Christmas guest.  Blaine's eyelids sputter as though he's dreaming, probably a vivid scene hammered between the wrinkles of his brain about how Kurt will always be immune to danger, covered and secured in Blaine's protection.

Blaine's lips twitch and he tightens his grasp on Kurt's hands resting at his hip.  He's smiling; Kurt notices that it's a happy dream, and God.  Blaine is beautiful when he's happy.

Kurt decides right here and now that he's going to spend the rest of his life making sure he witnesses the earth-shattering smile he's seeing now and ensuring creative ways to make it stay plastered right there where it belongs.

xK&Bx

Blaine rushes down the stairs and halts in the foyer to check, not for the last time ever, the way his hair falls with the help of a new bottle of gel he's trying out.  He wraps a single curl around his finger and pulls it until it springs back up and nods and winks at himself in the mirror.  He brushes the back of his knuckles across his jaw line, once covered with a thick beard.  He shaved, if only to make himself look younger for the sake of the club.

Kurt waltzes through the kitchen and into the foyer for the sake of finding his coat hung near the door.  “Whoa-ho-ho!  Blaine Anderson!  You are a tiny, little sex god.  God, you look exactly the same as when you were seventeen.  Blast from the past!”

“Mmhmm, I'm on the prowl tonight.”  Blaine bites his lip and makes eye contact with Kurt in the mirror.  He turns around.  “I'm really not on the prowl.  Not really.”  He laughs.  “I promise.  Hey!  Not looking so bad yourself, but that is to be expected, birthday boy.”  Openly scanning Kurt's body with his eyes, Blaine whispers, “Pretty boy.”

“Blaine, seriously.”  Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's neck as if that's the only place they belong.  “We are the most obvious people in love who aren't currently together, I'm surprised we haven't been called out.”

“Mmm.”  He kisses Kurt quickly, escaping his hold, and turns back to the mirror.  He sees to it that he's fiddling with each individual curl that frames his face.  “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you.”  Kurt smiles.

“Oliver kind of called us out during that conversation in the middle of the night.  He caught me crying.”

“What?  Blaine, these are things you're supposed to tell me immediately!”

“He asked me not to.”

Kurt laughs.  “Blaine.  Think about what you just said.  Oliver asked you not to tell me something.  And you complied.” 

Blaine looks at him with a raised eyebrow.  “Uh huh.”

“Blaine.”

Blaine tilts his head.  “Don't worry.  He didn't say anything bad.”  Blaine sighs and straightens.  “I can see why he was interesting to you.  In the beginning.  Before I came back.”

Kurt stares at him and laughs.  “I'm so impressed with your adult-like behavior.” Kurt grins.  “Come on, we should go.  Let's go, Oli!”  Kurt tosses the car keys to Blaine and holds the door open as Oliver heads out, followed smugly by Blaine twirling the keys around his pinkie finger, checking his hair again on the way out. 

When Blaine jumps into the driver's seat, Oliver immediately resorts to the passenger's seat and smiles at Blaine.  Kurt blinks and takes the back seat and Oliver shifts into playing with the radio as soon as Blaine makes his way down the street out of their neighborhood.  Blaine looks at Kurt in the mirror as Oliver goes through possible music choices.  At Kurt rolling his eyes dramatically, Blaine yanks the phone from Oliver and scrolls through until he finds the exact song that they should listen to as they roll deeper into Lima Heights to pick up Santana and Willa.

Let the moon do what she does
She don't need to make a fuss
She don't know she shines for us
Something tells me that she does
Follow the signs right back to you
Back to you, back to you

Blaine rocks out to the song twice in a row as the girls climb in and he speeds off into the abyss of the highway.  There's laughter as there usually is between friends, and there's singing at the top of their lungs and there's Blaine's obnoxious giggling when he realizes a point that's so important, he shuts the song off completely and screams.

“You guys!”

Blank stares welcome him from every angle, causing him to laugh again.  He's forcing himself into a happy mood – anything to stop him from thinking he's the only one not good enough for a public significant other. 

“Guys.  This is literally the gayest car… ever.”

He looks at Kurt first for a reaction and laughs harder when he just hangs his head and shakes it, trying desperately to hide a smile.  “Come on, pretty.  It's funny!”

“Shut the fuck up and turn on the music, Anderballs!”  Santana slaps the back of his head.

Blaine maintains his mood as he retreats from the car and onto the ground and waits for his newly acclimated group of friends.  He fishes out his ID from his back pocket as he leads the way.  He recognizes that maybe he's being a little obnoxious, but if he tries to do anything else, he'll burst at the seams and spiral down into the red parade of slitting his veins open.  Oliver's sort of a nice guy and he almost feels bad that he noticed that his boyfriend is still in love with Blaine.  This couldn't be messier if he tried.

A warm hand slips into his and he's shocked.  He looks over to Willa and smiles with apprehension at her bold contact. 

“I know we don't know each other well, but… hang in there, okay?”

Blaine narrows his eyes at Willa.  She's a cute girl, blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a ski-slope nose with a stud piercing.  Unquestionably the polar opposite of Santana Lopez, Blaine's positive that they're going to make it a long time if her sweet and calm demeanor means anything to the good of the world anymore. 

“Do you mean… with Kurt?  We're um... huh.”  He squints.  “Tell me everything you know.”  He says it with a teasing flair, but he wholeheartedly means it.

Willa looks at Blaine then to Kurt, who's cautiously watching their conversation but out of earshot.  “Well, I've only known him for a few months, and I've only known you a few days… but I've made some unbiased, outside opinions.  Assumptions.  Buy me a drink, lover boy, and I'll lay down the way I see it.”

“I think I love you already.  Santana!  I'm stealing Willa.  She's mine.”

Santana rolls her eyes and holds up her hand, already connected to Kurt's.  “Even trade.” 

They share a smile while they watch Santana catch up and take Willa's other hand, and they head straight to the bar like the three musketeers after a very important mission.

The three of them sit at the bar in a triangle of high top chairs, as Blaine and Willa become quick best friends.  Santana watches with a smirk on her face and folded arms as they talk about what Kurt is like in New York with and then without Oliver following him around like a lost puppy.  Blaine confesses that Oliver caught him last night when he was clearly distressed about the entire situation, and the conversation they had seemed like a revelation on Oliver's part, although Blaine was sure to hold back a few words and a reserved demeanor.  He confesses that he was relieved that the in-love look was never just between Kurt and Blaine.  Outsiders, even Kurt's boyfriend, could see it clear as day. 

“Honey, anyone with eyes can see it.”  Willa tips her glass to dry the contents and makes eye contact with the bartender for another margarita. 

“Every living creature has eyes, Willa.  A decent percentage of them are blind.”  He's just being silly; it's a sad excuse to try to change the subject altogether.

“Whatever you say, Blaine.  You know everyone can see it.”

Blaine turns his head to look at Santana and nods quietly.  “I know.  So why can't he?  I mean, I guess he can but it's not good enough to dump the boyfriend.”  He brings his glass up to his lips and licks at the bitterness kept around the rim.  “From where I'm standing, it looks like Kurt prefers the easy kind of love that requires no effort.”

“Anderson, that's not love.  That's a placeholder until he's ready for you again.”  Santana leans in and tries to meet his eyes with her hands resting on his thighs.  He can't look at her; he can't look at anyone.  “Blaine.  You get the happy ending with him.  He told me so himself.”

“Well, I'd appreciate if we could get started on it again then.  I know him well enough to know that he yearns for that devastating, mind-blowing relationship that's full of passion and need.  He wants to want until it fucks him up and ruins his life and shatters his heart, San.  He wants what I have with him.”

“You two weren't always like that.”

“No, maybe not.  But I love him until it hurts and I know it's the same for him.  It's the evolution of our relationship and it's insane that we want it.  But we do.  We need it.  It's like water; it's like air.  I need him…” His voice breaks.  “Santana.  I need him.”

When Santana and Willa are staring back at him with tears in their eyes, he knows the end of the conversation is near.  With a new glimmer of hope that's coming from a place of fate and a promise to himself that he will never break Kurt in two again, Blaine drains his drink and slams the glass on the bar.

The song changes and he turns to watch Kurt on the dance floor because he can't seem to look away for very long.  He's ecstatic that they are finally how they're supposed to be, although not for anyone to see, and that they are on their way to being perfectly together again.  They're on the cusp of something truly special for the second time in their lives, and Blaine is so grateful. 

Kurt seems to be into all the dancing with Oliver, or at least as much as is necessary as Oliver sloppily grinds up against him, hands attached to the curve of his hips and his mouth attached to his neck.  Kurt locks eyes with Blaine and turns Oliver so that he is facing Blaine's smirk.  They lock lines of vision.  Blaine feels a clench in his stomach, the painful I can't be with you the way I need kind, the warm beginnings of full-on sexual arousal, and he nearly doubles over in want.  The piece of thread has been sewn back in place between two hearts; it jolts with the precise amount of tension, the give and take finally compromising to meet in the middle of two men who simply belong together forever.

Santana and Willa shimmy over to Kurt and Oliver whereas Blaine remains seated and, swirling his Jack and Coke with the straw, plotting his next move to get Kurt back.  This time, he wants to avoid the casualty of Oliver Ellington and that's proven to be difficult.

Sexual tension swirls comfortably in the room, supplied only by Kurt and Blaine, and they're both openly using Oliver as the puppet in the prop room, dusty and swaying on the wood paneling of a makeshift shelf turned into a shady, dark corner of the dance floor.  The only thing that matters is that Kurt is to soon be back in his arms again.

From a considerable distance, Blaine opens his mouth and sings the lyrics directly into Kurt's soul; the words of the song shooting through his heart like a bullet he'll never be able to run away from – a bullet he'd willingly take for the electricity of it, for the ultimate commitment it would represent.  His stomach molds into a messy loop-de-loop roller coaster with a record-breaking drop and he officially feels like he's going to puke.

High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life
Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time

Blaine seductively stalks to Kurt, the only focused piece of flesh in the building, until he's inches away from his face and pushes Oliver away with only one hand like a scarecrow swaying in a tornado. Blaine slots up behind Kurt and closes his teeth down on the left column of Kurt's neck, with an obvious purpose to make him his again.  He rasps the most important lines into the shell of Kurt's ear, nipping at it when he should breathe.

Hold still right before we crash, 'cause we both know how this ends
A clock ticks 'til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again.

He doesn't hear Kurt's breath hitch; he feels it against his cock as the two are glued together, closer than they've been in a long time, at least for people to see.  It's coming home; it's fitting into the empty space where he's belonged; it's the entire place finally accepting that they are everything for one another.  It's showing his lover off, the most beautiful man at Scandals, in Ohio, in the world.  Somehow, Blaine knows that everything is going to be just fine. 

The song ends just this side of completely inappropriate in a public place and Blaine steps back immediately, pinching his lips closed between his pointer finger and thumb, and clasping his eyes, sealing them as tightly as possible.

The feel of Kurt's hand on his forearm forces his eyes to open.  Their world around them is still blurry, a slow-motion version of the club they're standing in.  They hold still but in perfect focus, literally drowning in each other, eyes fixed on the other, hazel gold competing for dominance with the Caribbean Sea. 

Kurt's worth it every time. 

The air changes as the mood switches into an equally fast beat song and the lyrics start right away this time, with a song no one has heard in years.

We are strong
No one can tell us we're wrong
Searching our hearts for so long
Both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

“We can't make Oliver feel left out, B.”

Blaine steps back two more strides and takes Oliver's hand, tangling their fingers until he's joined into somewhat of a dance/love-triangle as the next verse comes in, vibrating their insides, and Blaine feels himself floating above the two drinks he's had so far, with every intention of getting totally hammered right after this song.  He crowds in on Oliver just in time, growling in his ear but looking at Kurt.

But if we get much closer, I could lose control
And if your heart surrenders, you'll need me to hold.

Blaine yanks at the back of Oliver's neck and brings his face in roughly.  He smashes his tongue into Oliver's mouth, hoping to God that he looks like a porn star as much as he feels like one in this moment.  The kiss is hard and sloppy and just left of center, but almost nice because he can taste Kurt on Oliver's lips and it's a sure way to feed his addiction.

It obviously takes a minute for Oliver to grasp what's happening, but when he does his hands travel south to slip into Blaine's back pockets, pinching at each cheek, and slotting his knee in between Blaine's legs.  It seems easy for Oliver; he has such a height advantage that he props Blaine up onto his thigh as they break away from the dirty kiss as Kurt looks on as though this night will quickly become a blur of hot sweat and sex any second now.