Sunday, 9:36p.m. - Monday, 12:07a.m.

Kentucky

“All right, come on,” Blaine said, bumping his plastic cup against Puck's. The radio was playing and they had made cocktails from mini bottles of Wild Turkey and soda from the machine down the hall.  It was almost a party.  “I know you're not just some hitchhiking student, Puck. Who are you really?”

Puck raised an eyebrow at Blaine from his seat beside him on the bed. “Well. I've never told anyone this before, but–” Puck leaned his head in close to Blaine's, giving him a conspiratorial look. Blaine leaned in as well. “–I am actually the great and powerful Oz.”

Blaine rolled his eyes and smacked Puck's shoulder. “Oh, come on. Seriously. I just want to know one fucking thing that Kurt doesn't right now. Trust me, it's both extremely petty and very important.”

Puck snorted at this. “Oh, hell. I'm just some guy,” he said with a shrug, scratching his fingers through his short, un-styled Mohawk. “A guy whose parole officer is probably having a shit fit right about now.”

Blaine froze. “Wh-what do you mean parole officer? Are you a criminal?”

“No! Not any more, Blaine, I swear. Besides busting parole I haven't done one wrong thing.”

“Well...uh...what did you do?”

Puck shrugged, taking a long drink from his cup. “I'm a robber.”

Blaine's eyes went wide. “You're a bank robber?”

“No! No, of course not, that's crazy,” Puck said, sounding almost offended.

“Oh. Well, what...uh...what did you rob?”

Puck tapped his chin. “Well, let's see here...let's add it up. I robbed a gas station, a couple convenience stores, a couple liquor stores...”

Blaine gave a short, excited laugh, before slapping his hand over his mouth. “Oh my god,” he said when he took his hand away. “You...I mean...how?”

Puck shrugged.  “I don't know, I was kinda broke and it's something I'm good at, so–”
          
“No, I mean how did you do it?  Did you just hide out until the store closed or–”

“No way, dude, that's burglary,” Puck interrupted with a frown  “Burglary's for cowards.  I'm no burglar, I'm a robber.”

“I still don't see the difference,” Blaine admitted with a shrug, raising an eyebrow at Puck in challenge.

Puck smirked back at him. “Okay, fine. You wanna know what I do? Well, first you pick your place, right? Then I just sit back and watch it for awhile. Wait for that right moment to make my move, you know? And that's something you've got to know up here.” Puck paused to knock the side of his head with his fist twice. “That shit cannot be taught. And then...” Puck ducked his head, blushing slightly. “Shit, Blaine, I don't want to talk about this.”

“Oh, come on!” Blaine begged, tugging at Puck's arm. He leaned into Puck's personal space and gave him the puppy dog eyes that always seemed to work on Kurt. “I really like hearing about it,” he added, making absolutely no effort to keep the sultry edge out of his voice.

Puck's face spread into a sly smile. “All right, then,” he conceded with a sigh. “So then I just waltz on in...” Puck slid to his feet, walking over to the sink and mirror that were set up outside the bathroom. He grabbed the motel's complimentary hairdryer from its shelf next to the sink and tucked it into his waistband like a gun in a holster. As he walked back toward Blaine he grabbed his baseball cap off the top of the TV and slid it, backwards, onto his head.

“...and I say,” he continued, facing Blaine with a smile, “'ladies, gentlemen, let's see who wins the prize for keeping their cool. Simon says...” Puck whipped the hairdryer from his waistband and held it aloft, “...everybody down on the floor.”

Blaine couldn't help but watch Puck's act with unmasked delight. He could only imagine what it would feel like to be that calm and powerful and in control.

“...Now, if nobody loses their head, then nobody loses their head,” Puck continued. “Uh...you, sir,” he said, pointing to an imaginary person with the hairdryer, “yeah. You do the honors. Take that cash and put it in that bag right there, and you got an amazing story to tell all your friends. And if not, well, you got a tag on your toe. You decide.”

Puck put the hairdryer down, presenting Blaine with a small bow. “Then I thank them for their time and just slip out, and, uh, get the hell out of dodge,” he said, sitting back down beside Blaine, who was clapping enthusiastically.

“Wow,” Blaine said, tickled. “You certainly are...gentlemanly about it.”

“Well, I've always believed, if done properly, that armed robbery doesn't have to be a totally unpleasant experience,” Puck confided thoughtfully.

Blaine smiled. “You're really something else.”

Puck leaned back on his arms.“You aren't so bad yourself,” he said with a lascivious grin.

Blaine swallowed hard..

“I see the way you look at me, you know,” Puck added, his voice low and quiet.

Blaine felt his cheeks heat up. “Oh. I....um...I'm sorry, I just...”

“Nah, it's fine,” Puck said with a chuckle. “I know I'm irresistible. And you are hot enough for me to make one of my trademark exceptions for. I'll even bottom.”

Blaine gaped at him. “Wow, you are...that's pretty...wow. You're direct.”

Puck shrugged in agreement. “Life's short. Grab what makes you happy, that's my motto.” He sat up, leaning so close that Blaine could feel Puck's breath on his face. “What do you say? See something you want to grab?”

“I...I...” this had been all well and good in theory, but Puck was actually here, actually offering–

Puck was leaning in slowly, his hand gently cupping Blaine's cheek, urging him to tip his head to the side and–

And Blaine didn't want this. He wanted closeness, and intimacy, and everything that marriage was supposed to give him but never had. He wanted a connection that went deeper than flesh on flesh. Looking into Puck's eyes, Blaine saw everything that he wanted. But none of it was there. Not in those eyes. He wanted–

“I think I need to go talk to Kurt,” Blaine whispered before Puck's lips could connect with his.

Puck dropped his hand and pulled back to look at him. He gave Blaine a rueful smile.

“You know what? I think you're right,” he said. “I was just hoping to get laid before you figured that out.”

Blaine ducked his head and laughed, because – god. If even Puck could tell–

“You guys have seriously never hooked up before?”

Blaine bit his lip and shook his head.

“Well, how long've you two been dancing around each other, anyway?”

Blaine swallowed. “I...I don't know if he even...” he muttered, but let his protestations die in the face of Puck's incredulous look. Blaine sighed. “Too long,” he admitted.

“Well, if I'm not getting laid, you two hooking up has gotta be the next best thing,” Puck said, sounding heartened. “Unless...you're not hiding a hot chick friend somewhere, are you?”

Blaine shook his head and smiled. “Sorry.”

“All right then,” Puck sighed. “You go get your boy and I'll see if I can find some decent porn channels.”

Puck began to move toward the TV, and then stopped abruptly. “Wait – hold on. I've got something for you.”

Blaine looked on curiously as Puck unzipped his backpack and began rifling through it. “Ah! Here we are,” he said with satisfaction, turning and handing Blaine a handful of small, colorful items. Blaine blushed beet red when he realized that Puck was giving him an assortment of condoms and miniature packets of lube.

“Puck...” Blaine finally managed when the shock wore off, “I appreciate the thought but I don't...”

“Don't worry about it,” Puck dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I still have plenty left, and the hotel lotion from the bathroom's all I'm going to be needing tonight. Unless you'd rather...” Puck waggled his eyebrows at Blaine, his gaze meandering down to Blaine's crotch.

“No,” Blaine replied quickly. “Thank you for the offer, but...still no. I...thank you, Puck. For everything.” Blaine smiled at Puck, trying to convey the true depth of his appreciation even through his embarrassment over the condoms and his nervousness (or, more accurately, terror) at having to talk to Kurt.

“Anytime,” Puck said, holding his fist out to Blaine. Blaine bumped it with his own without a second thought. “Now get the hell out of here or you're going to be getting an eyeful of pussy in about five seconds.”

“Already gone,” Blaine called over his shoulder, moving toward the door as quickly as possible.

Blaine walked the several paces between Puck's room and Kurt's as slowly as he could manage. He stuffed the condoms and lube packets into his pocket, clearing his throat and straightening the hopelessly wrinkled collar of his shirt as he stared at the hotel room door.

It was now or never.

He put his hand on the doorknob and then paused, finally deciding to knock instead. It just somehow felt like the right thing to do.

“Just a moment!” came Kurt's muffled voice, rising above soft music inside the room. Blaine stood, staring at the door and feeling like his heart was going to eat him alive if Kurt didn't answer the damn door pretty much immediately. He had never felt this raw or exposed in his life, and he had a sharp and fleeting desire to simply run back to the safety of Puck's room, straight porn or no straight porn.

When Kurt finally answered the door, his eyes were very red and puffy, his cheeks wet and his hair a mess. He had changed into his pajamas, and his bare feet poked out from the slightly too-long bottoms.

Blaine had never wanted anyone so much in his entire life.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, looking shocked. “I – why did you knock? You could have just come in, it's your room too.”

Blaine stared at him. He felt his eyes begin to prickle, and he had no idea why, but when he finally managed Kurt's name, it was hitched on a sob. Blaine walked into the room and pulled Kurt into his arms and wept because he just didn't know.

He didn't know how he hadn't seen it all along, and he didn't know what he would do if Kurt were to reject him. He didn't know what it would mean if he finally said it, and he didn't know if it would save his life or destroy it that much more messily. He didn't know if he would be alive tomorrow, and he didn't know what he would do if he lost Kurt forever.

But what he did know was that if this wasn't a time in his life for taking risks, such a time would never come to pass.

“Blaine?” Kurt asked softly, stroking his back in soothing patterns.

“I love you,” Blaine choked out.

Kurt hummed happily. “I know. I love you too. It's okay, I'm not ups–”

“No, I don't – I don't mean that I just love you as a friend.”

Kurt went very still in Blaine's arms.

“I mean, I'm in love with you, Kurt. And I need you to know that. Because if we die and I never said it–”

Kurt pulled back and looked at him, roaring ocean eyes full of so much that Blaine found himself unable to read them at all. Kurt slowly disentangled himself from Blaine, but before panic could set in, Kurt had gently taken Blaine's hand.

“Blaine, do you remember when we first met?” Kurt asked softly, his expression neutral.

Blaine took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he murmured on the exhale.

“Do you remember what you said?”

Blaine's mouth tugged itself into a lopsided grin. “Um...yeah. I said you have a nice pair of eyes.” Blaine rolled his own eyes at the memory.

“And what did I say? Do you remember?” Kurt asked, his lips forming the ghost of a half-grin.

“Yeah. You shut them and then asked me if I knew what color they were.”

“And what did you say?”

Blaine's smile turned sheepish. “I didn't know,” he answered.

Kurt lifted his free hand up to Blaine's face, and gently covered Blaine's eyes.

“Blaine, what color are my eyes?” Kurt asked.

Blaine laughed softly. “They're blue,” he said, “Or green. Depending on the light. Or sometimes, when it's overcast, they look gray.”

Kurt slid his fingertips across Blaine's eyelids and down the side of his face, curving his palm in to cup Blaine's cheek. Blaine's eyes fluttered open, locking on Kurt's. “Yours are like warm honey and pine trees in the sunlight,” Kurt said, and Blaine's stomach floated happily down to his shoes.

They smiled at each other. “I think I might have been in love with you since the day we met,” Kurt whispered.

It was as if an actual magnetic pull jumped to life between them, Kurt's words barely leaving his mouth before Blaine was tilting his head to better receive Kurt's lips against his own. The first press of lips was light and sweet and perfect, and the second was firm and a little deeper and just as perfect as the first. And before they knew it they had lost count as they pulled their bodies flush together and kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed like they would die if they stopped.

And every single kiss was as perfect as the first.