Chapter 16

Blaine backs off for a while, as much as he can. He lets the natural regression of his relationship with Kurt take its course, slowly but surely texting him more, spending an increasing amount of time on the phone every time he calls.  It's a slow process, but he knows that Kurt is right in the reassurance every time he says it'll be great for them in the long run.  He's learning how to do this.

Because he's had to distance himself from Kurt, he has to make it back home directly after school for the simple process of survival.  He doesn't like the idea of sneaking into his house beyond normal time, so he tries to avoid it, but he's got to sleep somewhere.  Following the nights of work or detention, he usually camps out in the woods behind his house or in an alleyway off of Main Street.  The worst afternoons are when his father's car is in the driveway a little earlier than usual.  This means he needs to find somewhere else to go or he needs to take the wrath of his father's fist.  He doesn't dare tell Kurt about any of the spontaneous camping trips, if only for the fact that they've only been dating for such a short time and he doesn't want to scare him off with his indescribable amount of baggage.  He's convinced Kurt's not ready to take all of it in just yet.   Maybe one day… later.

Blaine's first week of having a real boyfriend is a blur, and they stay committed to taking it slow.  They text each other somewhat regularly over the course of the days and Blaine only has three shifts at the Lima Bean.  He keeps his promise of staying away during the time he's not scheduled for now.

In addition to getting used to having Kurt at his disposal, Blaine also has had to try to get used to the first week of school at McKinley High and he's tried to adjust so far to no avail.   The welcoming committee is not there to greet him, and the rumors have spread like wildfire.  Every scenario goes through one ear and out the other, from being locked up after blinding a kid, to a homeless runaway, and anything in between.  In addition to all the false accusations, there's one fact reeling its way through the hallways about Blaine that he can't, that he won't, deny.  Although everything generally would be easier for him if he weren't gay, he feels that it's wrong to hide something so much a part of him to the world.  So he lets them talk and he does not give a flying fuck what it is that they are saying. 

It's not going to be easy to make friends at this school. 

He vows to himself that he'll keep his head down until he's comfortable and is sure to be on time to every class.  He observes the other kids and sits alone at lunch; it's easier to hang out with only himself.  He works diligently on the make-up work from the first two weeks that he's missed, and manages to stay ahead of the syllabus in every class. 

With every terrible day, teacher, rumor, football jock trying to fuck with him, Blaine reaches to his pocket to complain to Kurt.  As he's typing out a text message of protest of McKinley, every time, he refrains. Kurt told him to back off, and although he's sure that he would be there for him if he really needed him, he doesn't want to waste the pointless interactions unless he really needs to speak with him.  He slips his phone back into his pocket and counts down the seconds until the last bell rings, signaling dismissal for the day. 

As soon as each day is over, Blaine's walls crumble to the ground all around him, and even more so if it's an afternoon he gets to spend with Kurt.  Kurt has officially softened him, transformed him into putty in front of his very eyes and he's not in a regrettable mindset at all.

He doesn't want to mess this up, especially for being too clingy with his first official boyfriend.  He's thought about it a lot and although it is his first partner in his life ever, he's not sure if it's all supposed to feel this amazing, especially this early on in the relationship. 

If Blaine is being honest, he definitely agrees with Kurt's sex-related pushback as well.  He insists on taking it slow in the bedroom too, because although they've fucked already (a few times), Kurt says he wants to get to know Blaine inside first; he wants to build a relationship from the heart.  But Blaine is a very horny eighteen-year-old with stamina to fuck like he means it several times a night, and that he cannot help.  To waste that talent would be a travesty, but he holds back and squeezes his balls tight until Kurt gives him the green light to go, go, go. 

The endeavor toward sublime bliss on both sides of the relationship is no easy feat, Blaine confirms, after only the second shift of the week.  Kurt has been driving him insane, teasing and licking his own lips while maintaining a full “you can look but don't touch” policy, at least for now.

“So, are you going to take your time to restock the straws all night, baby, or are you going to come upstairs and get fucked into the headboard until you cry?”

“Shit, Kurt.”  He breathes, certifying the hard exhale between his gritted teeth.  This has to be a cruel, cruel test to keep Blaine two steps behind.

“Well?  Whattya say, baby?”

“No.  That goes against our keeping our distance rule.  And it'll be awesome for us in the long run.”  He mumbles the sentence as though it's a rehearsed line in an elementary-level play.  He's like a child, speaking softly and ashamed.  Blaine is beyond sexually frustrated, but he knows it's the right answer that Kurt wants to hear.

“Good boy.  Text me tomorrow.  I'm going to finish up some paperwork upstairs and try to get to bed early.  Your dad around tonight?”

“No.  I don't think so.  I'm fine.”

Kurt kisses his cheek, screams to Julie to lock up, and leaves the premises. 

Blaine helps Julie close up, and finds his dads car in the driveway when he gets home.  It's raining.  He lies awake in the woods, assuming that each teasing session is placed in front of him as an act of training on Kurt's part to make sure they are still on the same page.  That's all well and good, except that Blaine can't stop picturing his own body crying, begging, pleading while being rammed face first into a wall, impaled by Kurt's gorgeous cock – thick, hard as a rock, and throbbing with semen making its way to the surface at exactly the correct pace for them both.

xK&Bx

October

The days and weeks blend as they always have, but with less dragging now that Blaine has a purpose to carry on in Kurt.  The cycle continues with small details added into the mix:  mounds of homework and actually making and selling the coffee for a profit instead of only drinking it, but still Kurt and Blaine.  Always Kurt.  The boys have loosened up on their stay-away rules a bit, but still making progress into the level of comfort slowly so that they can make it all work long term.

It's been a shit day, so Blaine takes a chance.  This is the first time he's showing up without being scheduled to work and he's a little nervous that Kurt will turn him away.  Blaine feels like it's okay, considering the day he's had, and he really just misses his boyfriend after everything.  It was an especially trying bain of his existence at school.  One of the football guys slushied him because of his recent interactions with Tina-Cohen-Agitator.  Blaine wound up breaking the kid's nose and he was suspended for a few days.  He knows Santana will find out; he might as well just tell Kurt so he doesn't hear it from anyone else.  Still, he's pissed because he wouldn't have fought the pack of hyenas if the slushie wasn't dropped on his head right before lunch.

xK&Bx

Kurt's mopping up what appears to be a spilt mocha just inside the front door when Blaine arrives straight from being suspended from school.  It's a sunny day, but still obviously autumn with the trees surrounding downtown Lima in a rainbow of a harvest palette.  Reds and oranges fade into yellows and greens and the only color that's missing is the ice blue of Kurt's eyes.  Blaine calls it complete when he gets to stare into them as Kurt looks up at the sound of Blaine's knuckles rapping on the door to get his attention so he doesn't knock him over when he pushes through. 

Kurt looks and lights up at the beautiful sight.  He pulls the door toward him, allowing Blaine access to their workplace in common, their safe spot to enjoy each other on a limited basis.

“Hey baby.”  Blaine reaches for a quick peck and Kurt meets him halfway.  So far, this is exactly the right choice.

“Hi, honey.  How was your day?”  There are more people than usual at this time now that the college is back in session, but it's not packed by any means.  Kurt's handling it by himself, and seems surprised to see Blaine two hours before he normally comes through.

Blaine shrugs.  “Need some help?”  Blaine takes the mop from Kurt and smiles, taking over the chore.  “I feel like all the teachers get together and gang up on us, all assigning homework at the same exact time with all the same due dates.  It's really fucking annoying.  I also hate everyone who plays a stupid sport in that school; they're all cocky assholes who will never ever leave this town even to go visit somewhere cooler.  Also, on the list of Blaine and the no-good-terrible-whatever-day, I broke more than one nose today in a defiant act of self-defense, but I'm here to do homework because my dad's probably home, that okay?”  He looks as though he might cry.  It's been a horrendous day.  “Please pretty boy, I know we're supposed to be taking it slow and all that, but I literally have nowhere to go and I'm pretty sure my dad's home, and I only want to face you right now.”

In lieu of a response of permission, Kurt helps him take his bag off his shoulder and pulls him away from the door, mop and all. Kurt sent Austin home when it had been dead for more than three hours earlier in the day, and Julie being on vacation is not helping.  Although it's moderately busy, Kurt handles himself well.  He wraps Blaine in a hug and rubs his back in circles. 

“How many noses are we talking?”

“The football guys tried to slushie me.  I guess I sort of let him slushie me and then gave them all what they deserve.”  Blaine shutters from rage and looks up at his boyfriend.

“How many were there?”

“I don't know.  Like four, maybe?  Only one broken nose though, I think.”  Blaine nods, mostly to himself. 

Kurt laughs a little with no noise and holds his lips to the boy's curls.  “Are you okay?  Did they hurt you?”

“Mmmm, well my availability for the coffee shop might have just opened up during the day for the rest of the week?”

“Oh, Blaine.”

“Sorry.”

Blaine smiles sadly when Kurt sighs, the stress drawn into his forehead failing to disappear.  He was nervous that Kurt would turn him away because he isn't scheduled to be here tonight, but of course Kurt would never do that when he most needs him.  He turns away from Kurt to place his bag properly on his usual table.  Kurt advances and comes up behind him, burying his own hands in Blaine's front pockets, hooking his chin to his shoulder and kissing his cheek.

“I missed you.”

Blaine leans back into his boyfriend's chest and nuzzles.  “High school sucks.  But that super-dork History teacher gave me something for you!  What's his name again?”  Blaine bends just a little out of Kurt's hold to retrieve the envelope from his bag and the new angle has Kurt wanting. 

“Schuester.”

“Right, Schuester.  He's such a nerd and he's always like, patting me on the shoulder.  I think we should file an actual complaint.”

Kurt looks at him and blinks.

“Anyway,” Blaine continues, “Douche Lord said that the invite got returned to sender.”

He turns to his boyfriend and extends the envelope in his hands with a smirk on his lips.  Kurt takes it and opens it carefully to reveal an invitation for the McKinley High Alumni Gala.

“How does he know we know each other?  And I'm definitely not going to this.  I keep up with everyone I need to.”

Blaine smiles and closes his eyes in the arms of his boyfriend.

Kurt throws the invitation down on the table and removes his hands from Blaine's pockets to wrap his arms around Blaine's neck, crossing at his wrists.  Blaine's hands shoot up to Kurt's, needing to feel the faint touch of fingertip to fingertip.  “We can stay home and cuddle?”

Blaine shrugs.  “Relax, pretty boy.  He only knows I work here.  He is not aware of our cuddling escapades, I promise.”

“That is not what I meant!  I mean… are you, Badass Blaine Anderson out to kill the world by way of scowl, in Glee Club?”

Blaine looks at him like he's actually crazy.  “Hell no.  I mean when you guys were there, I'm sure you were rock stars and ruled the school and all that but no.  Those kids are seriously lame.”

“Anderson!  You quit?  Who the hell is going to report back to us about how lame Butt-Chin Pube-Head still is?  Think about us here, Blaine!”  Santana approaches them, the click of her shoes getting louder with every step.

Blaine pipes in, holding a finger in the air.  “Hey, Stiletto-Breath.  I gave it a shot, like you told me to. It's extremely lame and I have an intimidating reputation to hold.”  He twirls out of Kurt's hold and winks at him; he's feeling a lot better than five minutes ago and his day is already brightened in Kurt's presence.  “I only lasted a day.  Seriously lame.”

“Do you know that we are the age that he was when we were there?  I forced Anderballs into it since he needed an extracurricular anyway and I really didn't want him to start a fucking fight club or something, because then I'd never hear about it.”

Blaine interrupts her.  “Shit!  Why didn't I think of a fight club?” 

Santana blinks and cowers a bit when Kurt gives her a pointed look.  “Anyway!  I'm still not convinced that it's not really a court order, for the record.  They just wanted you to get hurt in football or something.” Santana waltzes even closer to them so she doesn't have to scream across the floor, but turns at the last minute to stride directly to the cash register.  “What's your new extracurricular that you need so you don't get arrested, then?”

Blaine preens.  “I started a book club.  Of which no one at that stupid school will join so not only am I president, but I don't have to hold official meetings either because there are less than three members.  Try to prove to me that I'm not re-reading the classics, Striptease.”  Blaine's obviously proud of his plan.

Kurt and Santana are both staring at him in complete disbelief.

“Santana?”  Kurt stage-whispers the words, trying to pretend that Blaine can't hear the conversation.

“What?”

“That's kind of a genius plan.  It's like…”

“A mockery to the system?”  Blaine grins.

“It's perfect.  Just make sure someone can fucking attest to you being a member or whatever.  I don't want to hear it from those assholes at the court about how you're not abiding by your probation again or whatever.”

Blaine sighs and nods.  “Yes, mom.”

“You both do still work here though, right?  And I'm so not going to that stupid reunion shit either.  I don't need to stand around in the gym with you like we're at fucking prom, discussing the dreams that came true for one Rachel Berry.”  Santana flings her arms around dramatically and rolls her eyes.  She rings the bell by the cash register repetitively.  “Does anyone work here!”  She yells into the back room, knowing that Blaine or Kurt will take care of her right away.

“Rachel Berry?  Like, that hot girl on that one singing show?”

Kurt rolls his eyes and pushes Blaine toward the counter.  “The very same.”

“How the hell do you guys know her?  She was my one and only girl crush.”

“Ah, the loft on Irving Street.  She was the third New York roommate.  Ditched us in a time when we both needed her the most.  Kurtsie here got the Lima Bean from her dads and I got a hug and a postcard from Los Angeles.”

Blaine blinks, shaking his head and laughing.  “You would know her.  Of course you do.”  He makes his way behind the counter. 

“I can't believe Schue doesn't talk about her every damn day like she has sunshine shooting out of her ass with every step.”  Kurt adds, only a little bit bitter.  There's a beat.  “Wait.  What do you mean we would know her?”

“Not in Glee anymore, remember?  Who the fuck knows what he talks about every day, lame ass motherfucker.  I mean… of course my boyfriend and my parole officer know each other since like, birth.  Let's throw in the only girl I'd ever have sex with, too!”

“That's disgusting.”  Santana laughs, “Grande Caramel Dolce, please, my favorite little lawn gnome.”  She flutters her eyelashes and waits, checking an email that comes through on her iPhone.

“That really is seriously disgusting, B.”  Kurt's face is turned up as though he's actually picturing Rachel and Blaine together. He shudders.

Blaine dramatically sighs and goes through the motions to produce a perfect Caramel Dolce Latte, knowing very well just how much Santana loves the extra care.  This is more as a favor to Kurt than agreeing to work tonight.  He has two papers to write before next Tuesday and he's not happy about it.

Kurt watches him fondly and giggles when Blaine catches wind.

“Why aren't you saving teenagers' lives right now, Lopez?”  Kurt approaches her and smiles.

“Hummel.  You know we can't all be slutty superheroes on the CW like Berry.”

Kurt gives her a pointed look.  “Jealous she actually gets paid for looking half as good as you?”  He grins and crosses his arms.

“I am very happy here in Lima with you fine ego-stroking lords of the gay.  No more Rachel talk; I'm over her.  And, for your information, I'm in between appointments.  And technically, I have to check up on this one.”  Santana nods her head in Blaine's direction and winks.

Blaine shudders and looks to Kurt for help, who just shrugs and ducks his head to hide yet another childish giggle.

“He wasn't even supposed to be here today, so that's a lie.”

Blaine passes her the cup he's prepared for her and takes the long way around the pastry case to start on his homework, all the while listening to the conversation.  One of his favorite pastimes is observation of the perfect friendship Santana and Kurt seem to have fallen back into after so many years.

Kurt's in his normal chair now, laughing at Santana's idiotic reaction to the espresso being too hot.  Blaine sits next to his boyfriend and starts pulling textbooks out, unsure what he should start first.  He's lost in thought, reeling through his agenda and mentally remembering the details of each assignment to prioritize appropriately.  He's officially tuned out Kurt and Santana's catch-up before her appointment at two-thirty.  Eventually the background noise goes mute and the comfortable silence between the three feels natural, only the scribbling of Blaine's pencil being heard.  He is too concerned with the rest of his homework to fuck around with Santana right now.  He was just granted a mini-vacation and he'd like to spend some of it with Kurt if he allows them to, so he tries to get as much homework done as possible.  He continues, half-heartedly listening to their banter that picks up again quickly.  He hopes that once this crazy shit with his probation is over, he can really be Santana's friend.  She is absolutely hilarious, and she makes Kurt happy.  That's all he could truly ask for in a friend.

Santana eventually bids her goodbye and heads to her next appointment, hugging Kurt and humping his leg lightly and playfully, holding him tight.

“Oh my God, Santana.  Get out.”  He pulls away, trying to hide the laughter in between each word.

“Later, boys.  And B, FYI, I know you got suspended.  Call you after this other kid verbally abuses my mind, body, and soul.”  She waltzes out and heads toward the courthouse.

“Shit.”  Blaine sighs and hangs his head.

“She's scarier on the outside, babe.  You'll survive.”  Kurt snickers and pats his arm lovingly.

Blaine rolls his eyes, self-deprecation at the tip of his tongue.  Instead he says, “I always do.”

The two coexist for a few hours, Blaine doing homework and helping Kurt out when there is a line more than two people deep.  Suddenly, it's 8pm and Blaine should really try to get home if he ever is going to tonight.

He explains the situation to Kurt and against his boyfriend's “bad feeling,” he leaves the coffee shop at 8:30 and heads toward home. 

xK&Bx

Kurt:  Are you there yet?  I still don't understand why I wasn't allowed to drive you.
Blaine:  Kurt I literally just left you seconds ago.  I'm FINE!!!!!!  Thanks for caring but I'm fine!!!

The night is cool, the epitome of an autumn evening.  Kurt insisted on a Pumpkin Spice Latte to go even if the only reasoning behind it was October.  The playlist he has blaring in his headphones is quickly paced and full of feel-good tunes that he can finally relate to, all thanks to Kurt and Santana easing his mind a bit.  He takes an eager sip of his espresso and turns onto the street where he currently resides, tension building in his chest with every step toward the house of hell.

Blaine makes it into his bedroom this time, but barely.  He's convinced his luck must be running out, considering this is the third time this week that he's been safe and wrapped in his blankets, falling asleep to the soothing chords of Aqualung. 

Blaine:  Coast is clear… Goodnight, pretty boy.

The week of his suspension is spent as the summer was, except happy.  He curls up with his first edition of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on one of the couches at the Lima Bean and reads the week away with Kurt's eager permission.  He and Kurt take breaks for lunch, for cuddles, for blowjobs.  

His mini-vacation is over almost as quickly as it started and he finds himself tapping a pencil against his lip and staring at the clock the following Monday.  It's just another day of trying to ignore and be ignored, but not everything happens the way he needs.  Actually, nothing really happens the way he needs, not when it comes to school.

xK&Bx

Time crawls by, each second longer than the last until he finally hears the long ring of the final bell to dismiss all the brats and urge them to go back to wherever they came from.  Blaine goes to the Lima Bean.

Every spiritless word on his computer screen is staring back at him, mocking him into frustration and the total opposite of self-worth.  He's only a paragraph deep into his punishment essay for talking back to the teacher and he's already stuck.  Groaning in disappointment, Blaine throws his hands up and tips back in the chair, cursing his life and almost everything in it.  On top of the newly assigned ten-pager for mouthing off, he curses Dalton for making him appear that much more educated, thus his four AP classes that make him feel like he's in law school or something.  The workload is atrocious and although it can be handled, Blaine really doesn't want to try.

The school year is full-steam-ahead, so the Lima Bean is busy at all hours with study groups and quiet college kids snuggled with their laptops in the corner, headphones smashed into their eardrums without a care toward the world outside of their laptops, Tumblr, and the occasional research paper and studying. 

Now that it's been a month since he and Kurt got together for the record books, Blaine has slowly worked up to the daily routine of arriving at the Lima Bean directly after school every single day.  He hopes that Kurt doesn't mind, but trusts that he would say something if he did. He greets Kurt with a kiss and a slap on the ass promptly at three every afternoon, drawing out an unavoidable blush of deep red from the older man every single time.  He sets his area up with textbooks, a pen, and his notebook, on the same table he's been sitting at since May.  It's always otherwise unaccounted for, the reserved sign melting with glitter and bedazzlements still super-glued to the surface.  It's their table now.  No one can touch it or them or what they have.

xK&Bx

Blaine sits, slams his materials down ungracefully, runs his fingers through his hair as he frequently does, and patiently pauses his brain until his breath is even again.  This time, it's a reaction essay on Moby Dick.  Blaine doesn't even know where to start, especially since he can't stand Ishmael and the stupid, sarcastic “Call me Ishmael.”  Fuck Ishmael and his not-ironic-at-all stupid name. 

McKinley is undeniably less challenging than Dalton could have ever been, but the only problem Blaine is facing at his new school is simply that he can't keep himself from ignoring the idiots, as much as he tries, and it bothers him that the institution's staff turns a blind eye with every altercation.

He's dealt with bullies his whole life – he's lived with them; he's related to a few.  He never had protection from his father either, but the difference between home and school is that he never expected protection from the people he lives with.  School is supposed to be a safe place for every student, regardless of their background, and McKinley is failing miserably at keeping Blaine out of trouble.  He tries not to fight back at school; he doesn't want to go to juvenile detention or be thrown into foster care, thus being taken away from the only actual constant he's ever known, Kurt.  He's careful, he tries to go unnoticed; he finally has too much to lose in Kurt.  He slips up one too many times, hence why he was suspended.  He also slips up against teachers, ones that are too boastful to truly care about the work their students produce so they verbally abuse them instead, probably out of jealousy that Blaine is better at whichever subject they are trying to teach than the teachers themselves.

As Halloween approaches and every coffee shop this side of Summerland, California, is knee-deep in pumpkin anything, Blaine shifts into a routine that hardly involves his parents' house.  He returns sporadically, throwing a full camping duffle of stuff he might need out of his window into the backyard so he can nonchalantly skip down the stairs and retrieve it without anyone knowing.  

Against Kurt's better judgment, Blaine shows his face at home every week or so to make a quick appearance, to make his room look a little different in case anyone at all is paying attention.  He shifts a few books and moves some things around on his desk.  On these days, he makes sure his bed looks lived in and he rotates in a few more outfits into the trusty duffle bag, leaving for school earlier than usual the next morning.  It's home base, sure, but he has everything he really needs at Kurt's apartment now.  They fall into step with each other, and all seems perfect.  Little did Blaine know until it actually happened, he was always looking for exactly that – a comfortable routine with a man he almost loves. 

And just like that, Blaine Anderson has kind of, sort of, but maybe not officially, moved in with Kurt Hummel.

The magnet only responds to the source of energy. 

xK&Bx

When Kurt comes over to yank Blaine out of his spiraling thoughts, he doesn't mind in the least.  Too much has been thrown at him lately and he needs a second to relax into his amazing boyfriend's arms.

Sinking down to straddle his lap, Kurt throws his arms around Blaine's neck gingerly.  He rubs at the back of his younger boyfriend's hair, scratching at his scalp in a therapeutic gesture.

“Hey, nerd.”

Blaine smiles.  The pet names drive him insane in the most erotic way possible.  It's something he never realized he would want.

“You look like you're going to combust into flames over here.  No pun intended.”  Kurt grins, “Penny for your thoughts?”  He says, delivering a gentle kiss to Blaine's nose.

Blaine releases his pen, throwing it down on the table Kurt is wedged against and takes Kurt by the hips.  “Just thinking about when all of this good is going to blow up in my face.  And why my extra credit involves the Harry Potter series, when my classmates can't even pronounce Azkaban or Voldemort.  Or Hermione. Or, fucking Luna Lovegood. Or Pot-” He gestures his hands to show the environment they've submerged themselves in together at the Lima Bean.  They are an adorable, out and proud couple with a perfect daily routine in a sea of people taught to hate exactly that, and yet they are happier than they've been in quite some time. 

Tilting his head and furrowing his brows, Kurt's worried.  “I'm not sure if Voldemort is a real word, baby, but why do you feel like everything's going to blow up in your face?”

“Come on, Kurt.  You can't possibly believe that there's never going to be a problem in my life again!  With my family and all that crap?”

Kurt shrugs.  “There's good and bad in everyone's life, Blaine.  We'll deal with it when it comes... together.  But now!”  He holds out the “ow” sound for dramatic effect, “Now is not that time, B.”

“True.  Want to know why?  It's because… as much as I want you to straddle me for the rest of the night and we could make out and have hours of glorious sex, I, for one, need to concentrate on finishing this stupid fucking essay so I can start on my other two, because I can never shut up and the teachers at McKinley piss me off so bad collectively that I can't control what comes out of my mouth ever so I wind up having to write ten pages by tomorrow on why I misbehave and call teachers worthless Lima Losers with no dreams.  Which, by the way, is totally true.  Have you met Will Schuester?  The point is that I have maybe a paragraph that I'll wind up deleting in five seconds.  So I've written nothing.  For public school, the workload is really fucking annoying, pretty boy.  It's not as hard as Dalton, but it's been more time-consuming and that's what makes it annoying.  I'm working almost as much as I used to at Dalton.”  Blaine looks at Kurt for a response and huffs when he sees his expression.  Kurt's nodding with a lifted eyebrow, almost amused in Blaine's pain and frustration.

Kurt rolls his eyes expertly throughout the speech at all the right times.  “Good God, you are a whiny teenager!”  He kisses him to mute what's bound to be an immature, snarky comeback and continues.  “First of all, that's the most I've ever heard you say, like ever.  And second, you have to stop talking back at them, baby!  Just stay under the radar and then graduate and you can disappear from this hellhole.  You're too close to let them mess your future up, and they have no problem fucking you over, trust me.  My friend, Noah.  He was just like you when we were at McKinley and they all gave him so much shit because he had opinions.”

“Going far away doesn't really sound so appealing anymore.”  Blaine kisses his boyfriend, long and hard to make sure he knows the reasoning behind his last spoken sentence.  He feels homophobic owl-eyes on them.  He'll care about it never.

“We'll figure it out, lover boy.” 

Blaine laughs from his belly.  “Shut up.”

Before the discussion with his father about how Columbia would never, in a million years, allow him to enroll, Blaine always wanted to go to college but for all the wrong reasons.  He wanted to escape Ohio and use college as a crutch, as a bridge to get as far as he can.

College is completely off his radar now – he knows his father is right; they'll never let him in anyway.  Blaine's not sure what the future holds, but he's not going to dwell on what comes next when right now is perfectly fine.

xK&Bx

November

Blaine pushes at the door with his elbow, balancing a bottle of Diet Coke, several paper plates, and napkins atop the pizza box.  Austin follows him to the back room with the smell of deliciousness and Blaine sets it down on the chair next to Kurt's desk.  He kisses his boyfriend hello even if he just left ten minutes ago to pick up dinner for the boys. 

“Get out of here, you little scoundrel!” Blaine looks at Austin pointedly.  Austin and Blaine have somehow become pretty good friends in the time since Blaine has started working at the Lima Bean.  He's proud of the fact that he actually has a friend or two, despite all his walls that are still up for everyone except Kurt.

“Come on!  You said I could have some.”

“Yeah, but you're following me around like a fucking child, Pierson.  Give me a damn minute!”

Kurt's amused.  It's truly perplexing how Blaine could be friendly with so many different types of people and still get away with his bad-boy persona.  If it were him, Kurt is sure he would just look and feel like an idiot.  “Children.  Relax.  There's enough for everyone.”

Austin runs out and gets three Lima Bean branded coffee cups, ignoring the tops next to the stack.  He plates his own food and brings it over to Blaine's table.  “Guys, there's no one even here right now!  We don't have to eat all cramped up back there!”

Many students at the local college who normally house the Lima Bean are suspiciously not here, so Kurt takes it as a nice break for everyone at the coffee shop too, considering they've been busy since school really picked up weeks ago.

So only Kurt hears Blaine's reply, “Maybe I want to be all cramped up and pressed against each other.”  He wiggles his eyebrows in a way that's supposed to be sexy but only comes across as ridiculous.

“Do you now?”  Kurt throws an eyebrow to the heavens and smirks.

“Tonight?”

Kurt pats his shoulder twice as a “thank you for dinner,” plates his pizza, and joins Austin at the table.  “See you out there, killer.”

Blaine calls out again, “Tonight, Kurt?”

“Tonight, Blaine.”

“I don't even want to know.”  Austin says, mouth full.

With a satisfied smug grin, Blaine joins them and takes a bite, demolishing half a slice in his mouth.  Kurt watches him in astonishment as he eats the rest of the piece in all of five seconds before ungracefully confiscating the rest of the pizza from the back room and propping it up on the table behind them.  He takes another slice and sits back down next to Kurt.  He places a hand on Kurt's upper thigh, rubbing tight circles directly above the bend of the knee, and concentrates on the next slice.  When that's not enough for Blaine, Kurt feels Blaine's ankle with the contraption attached tangle with his own and they sit like this as normal.

The jingle of the ribbon and bells startles Kurt out of his trance gazing at his boyfriend.  Austin volunteers to go, and approaches the cash register to help the customer in need of the caffeine fix or sugar rush.

“Blaine.  I love you.”

Blaine looks up and freezes, mouthful of cheese and sauce exploding at the corners of his mouth.  He chews slowly, swallows prematurely, a visible chunk sliding down his throat like a detached Adam's Apple. 

“You… you do?”

Kurt shrugs with one shoulder and smiles with half his mouth, “I do.”

Blaine nods slowly, letting it sink in.  He really concentrates on the sound of the words and the way Kurt's mouth moves when he says them.  To Blaine.  Because he loves Blaine.  He loves me.  “Whoa.”

Blaine stares at his boyfriend.  Now what? 

“Kurt, I-”

“Don't.”  He takes his hand and rests both on his own thigh.  “Don't say it until you're absolutely sure.  I just needed you to know that I love you.  Because I do, I love you.”

“I am crazy about you.  I'm just not… I'm not ready yet.”

“Hey.  I get it. You have a lot of things you need to work out with that word, your parents…  I know that.  Okay?”

Blaine nods and smiles faintly.

Kurt grins as his entire face lights up in bright shades of glistening blues and greens.  He cups the boy's cheeks, stealing several pecks and kisses from all over his face.  Blaine's the one to start kissing a soft lingering kiss on the top of Kurt's nose, like he always does for him.

“Thank you!  Enjoy your night, sir!”

The customer Austin had just provided a latte to takes a sip and moans at the perfection of the ratio of cream and espresso and foam.  He situates himself into a plush chair across the shop and stares at Blaine.  The boy meets his eyes and jumps back from Kurt on instinct and his shoulders roll into themselves.

“That rich dude just gave us a bitchin' tip!”  Austin slams back down into his chair and continues devouring his pizza.

Blaine's face is pale; his hands are shaking uncontrollably and his eyes get shifty as he turns away from Kurt and pushes his chair all the way to the corner of the table.  He looks back to his father.

“B?  What the hell is wrong with you?  Are you choking?”

His eyes shift to Kurt's, tears pooling at the base.  “My… my dad.”

Kurt looks from Blaine to Christian with purpose.  It takes a minute for it to click, but when it does, Kurt turns into a mad man.  He throws himself up out of the chair and sharply crosses the room to where the lawyer sits, reveling in his coffee. 

“You.  You are not welcome here.”  Kurt pops a hip and folds his arms across his chest.

“I am a paying customer, enjoying my coffee in this fine, although a bit too flamboyant for my tastes, establishment.  I can be here, actually.”  Christian Anderson has received the reaction he'd expected out of exactly who he baited in the first place.  He twists the knife.  “Although, I must say that there are some… implications as to how you are living your life, Mister Hummel.”

Of course Christian Anderson knows all about Kurt.  He never enters the ring without the needed research already done and tucked under his arm.

“And what might that be?”  Kurt's face is getting hotter by the minute, his voice getting higher with every word spilling between his lips.  He's barely conscious to Blaine tracking him over, pulling on his sleeve, and uttering nearly unheard words of encouragement to just leave it alone. 

“Baby, come on.  He's not worth it, come sit with me.  Kurt.”  He pulls again for good measure, fully aware that Kurt is not going to budge.  “Pretty boy, please.”  He breathes. 

“Oh, that's fucking adorable, Blaine.”

“Leave us the fuck alone, Dad.  Just… get out.”

“Like I said, paying customer.”  His father holds the cup of coffee up to him.

“He has the right to refuse service and that's exactly what he's doing.  Please, just go.”  Blaine's sandwiched himself between his father who is now standing (when did that happen?) and Kurt, poor shaking and not-so-confident-and-cool Kurt.  Blaine's hands are behind him and trying to push Kurt away by his chest.  His head is down so he doesn't have to look his father in his eye.

Christian chest-checks Blaine, forcing both Blaine and Kurt to step back swiftly, magically catching their footing before they topple on one another. 

“You are a fucking pedophile, Hummel, and you're the only fucking reason why my boy is still gay, you fucking faggot!  Has your little fuck buddy told you that his father is the best fucking lawyer Ohio's ever known?  I will skin you alive, you watch your faggot back, boy!”

Kurt freezes, standing even more still than he was before.  His skin pales too much, and he's immediately pushed back into all of his high school memories of lockers and bruised ribs and painkillers missing from little orange bottles on his nightstand in Burt Hummel's house.  More than any of that, though, pedophile rings loudly in his ears. 

“Do not fucking talk to him like that!  How dare you come into his business and disturb his night like this.  Harass me all you want, I don't give a shit.  Do not say one more word to him.”  Blaine says through gritted teeth.  It almost feels liberating, like the words spewing out of his mouth were ones that needed to be said for a full decade.  He takes Kurt's hand protectively and makes sure his boyfriend is standing behind him.  Their elbows extend but their hands don't let go of each other as Blaine approaches his father and tries to stand taller to meet his dark, angry eyes.  “Besides, get your damn facts straight. He's not a pedophile and you know it.  I'm eighteen, and even if I wasn't. He'd still be safe if I was seventeen, Dad.  You know that.  So fuck you and stop trying to scare us.  It doesn't work, not anymore.  Now leave.”

“Wow, it seems as though even stupid little faggots who will never set foot in Columbia can read up on the laws, huh kid?”  With that said, Blaine's father does the unspeakable.  He opens the top to his steaming hot latte and dumps it directly over Blaine's head.  Christian Anderson storms out, drifting away into the darkness.

Blaine crumbles to the floor with a scream, the burning sensation searing through the skin of his otherwise flawless face.  Kurt crouches immediately, and turns Blaine's head gently between his hands.

“Shit!  Let me see, baby.  Are you okay?”  Kurt cradles Blaine's head in his lap trying to see how severe the burns are.

“What the actual fuck!  I'm calling 911.”  Austin announces, scrambling to the back to get his phone.

“NO!”  Kurt and Blaine both scream in response.  Austin just doesn't understand the repercussions that would be involved with submitting a police report.  He freezes and stares at the two.

“No, man.  Thank you, I'm fine.  It wasn't that hot.”  Blaine sits up and looks at Austin then Kurt.

His skin is splotchy and, although burned, it's definitely not a second or third degree.  Austin fetches the burn cream in the First Aid Kit at Kurt's instruction as his boss gets his boyfriend back to the table to further examine the wounds. 

“Stop it, Kurt. I'm fucking fine.”  He turns away from the cream and the helping hand of his boyfriend.  He's not looking him in his eye, and it seems like his walls are back up.

“Blaine… please don't shut me out.”

“Get the fuck away from me.  Please.”

“At least put this on so they don't blister.”  He opens Blaine's clenched fist with effort and puts the single packet of burn cream into his hand before closing the fist back up and patting his fingers.  “Head upstairs and get changed.  I'll be up after you've calmed down a little, yeah?”

The first time Kurt saw this side of Blaine was the very first day they met.  Bruised and battered, Blaine was hiding from the truth even if it was written in purple all over his body.  He shuts down after his father embarrasses him, hurts him, leaves him for dead.  It's a defense mechanism, and as much as Kurt wants to help right now, he stands and goes to the back room like nothing ever happened.  He knows that this will help his boyfriend in the long run.  He hears the jingle of the bells and can only assume it's Blaine headed upstairs to the apartment as instructed. 

xK&Bx

“B?”

“Mmmm.”  Blaine looks at his boyfriend through the mirror.  He stops his toothbrush mid-swipe.

They both have a loosely fitted towel around their waists, lying low on each hip bone.  Both heads of hair are still dripping wet and their skin is steaming with the tingling sensation immediately following a quick shower together after the angry sex Blaine apparently needed.

Earlier, Kurt left Blaine to his own devices in order to calm down and fix himself up without being embarrassed.  He's learned in the months they've known each other that Blaine shuts himself down at the faintest hint of mortification, so he left him alone until Blaine texted him that he missed him.  Events like today don't happen often, but when they do, it's heart crushing for everyone involved.

“Earlier when you told your father I'd be… safe… even if you were seventeen?  What does that mean?”

Blaine smiles, blissed out and better from earlier, all thanks to Kurt.  Kurt reminds him of someone his own age sometimes, he swears it.  It's endearing when he allows his inner teenager to come out.  Blaine absently wonders if he's endearing all the time since he's currently a teenager.  He hums and spits.  This conversation needs to happen with a lot less toothpaste.

“Well, when I was trying to, um… get you.”  He pauses at Kurt's breath hitching and tilts his head.  “You like that, pretty boy?”  Laughing, he shifts backward.  Kurt's hands are immediately sewn to his hips.

“When I was trying to persuade you to be my boyfriend, I looked up a few laws.  Turns out legal age in Ohio to fuck is sixteen.”

Kurt gapes at him for a second, sputtering every time he opens his mouth further to say something.  Anything.

“To answer your most eloquent question to date,” Blaine teases and loses his toothbrush to the sink, and takes Kurt's hands and rubs them up and down his own hips, “I didn't tell you because I was playing a game with you at first.”

“A… a game?”  Kurt hooks his chin to Blaine's shoulder.  The entire conversation is taking place through a foggy post-shower mirror. 

“At first, I wanted to see if you'd still have sex with me even if it was against the rules.”

“That's fucked up!  I beat myself up so hard over the fact that I wanted you at all for months, Blaine!  It took everything in me to resist you!  And then, after we had sex, I thought I was the worst person in the world for doing that to you!  Are you saying that I never was in the wrong at all?”  Kurt takes Blaine's shoulders so they can finally face each other. 

There are two ways this conversation could go and Blaine is aware of the precautions he needs to take in order to keep this positive.  He's feeling better now, even after the trying day coming in contact with his father.  He'll try jokes.  Always jokes.

“You could have Googled the same way I did, pretty boy.  Not my fault you're too old to understand the concept of a search engine.” 

Kurt scoffs and narrows his eyes.  “I know your distraction games, Anderson.  Don't you dare try to fool me.   And for your information, little duckling, I tried Googling it, and I was too scared to know the truth every time because if it wasn't okay, it would have made me want it even more, and if it was, I would have just skipped all the other steps and we would have turned into fuck buddies.  I exited out of the window before I could even type it in.”

“Fear of the unknown?”

“It worked out to your benefit, now shut up and finish cleaning out your dirty, dirty mouth.  Only clean things can become dirty again, you know.”

“Duly noted.”  Blaine grins his most mischievous smile and rushes through the rest of his nightly routine before yanking his towel off and pouncing on the bed while Kurt takes all the time in the world to moisturize and exfoliate. 

Really fucking dodged a bullet with that one, fucking shit.

“Kurt?”

“Hmm?”

“What about that pros and cons list on your computer?  Would you say that was part of your research?”  He's grinning, teasing, taunting Kurt for all that he's worth

Kurt looks shocked; he's caught.  Slowly, his lips turn upward.

“You're an asshole.”  He blushes and storms out of the bathroom, burying his face in the pillow on his bed and sighs.  He'd always wanted a boy who could keep him on his toes, and now he's certainly second guessing those wishes from all the years before.  He had definitely wasted plenty of birthday wishes on exactly that.  He starts laughing uncontrollably; who knew he'd be so happy with the now eighteen-year-old that was chasing him for months?

Said eighteen-year-old nuzzles next to him and kisses his hair.

“Kurt?”

“What.”

“Love you too.”

Just like that, all of it is worth it.