Saturday, June 30 – Sunday, July 1

It may have taken Blaine ten years to get around to professing his love for Kurt, but once he'd said those three little words, he didn't seem to be able to stop.  Every few minutes he kept pulling away from their kisses to say, “I love you.”

At first, Kurt thought he could never tire of hearing those words.  His heart felt like it would burst with happiness.  He responded to Blaine's every declaration of love with one of his own.

Eventually, though, it became too much, even for him.  The next time Blaine opened his mouth to speak, Kurt cut him off with, “Let me guess?  You love me, right?”

When Blaine nodded at him, smiling, Kurt said, “So I've heard.  Over and over.  And so I've said back.  Over and over.  And it's true.  But come on, Blaine.  When you say something too many times, the words stop having any meaning.  It's like leaving a song on constant repeat, until it becomes just background noise.”

“You're right,” Blaine agreed sheepishly.  “I guess I was just trying to make up for lost time.”

“Blaine, there's no such thing as lost time.  Everything that we've said, and everything that we've done, and everything that we've been through, has brought us to where we are right now.  And where we are right now is exactly where I want to be.  So seriously, shut up and kiss me.”    

Later that evening, after Kurt finished reading the latest chapter of Harry Potter, he sat stroking Blaine's hair and trying to gather his courage.  

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked himself.  

When he couldn't come up with a better answer than “I don't know,” he decided to just go for it.

Kurt had been sitting on his bunk while he read, leaning back against the wall, as usual, and Blaine was lying on his side, facing out into the room, with his head resting in Kurt's lap.  Kurt clicked off the light and slowly eased his legs out from under Blaine before lying down behind his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around him.

Blaine hummed contentedly and shifted closer to Kurt.  “What are you doing?” he asked, sounding a little surprised.

“Cuddling.”

“What happened to your ‘no cuddling now that it means something' rule?”

“I'm breaking it.”

“What about being worried that cuddling could lead to other things?”

“Blaine, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just go with it, Blaine.  Go to sleep.”

“Wait – are you serious?  Are you really going to let me sleep in your bed?”

“If you stop giving me the third degree.  Yes.”

Blaine mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key.

Kurt nuzzled into Blaine's soft curls, planting a kiss on the back of his neck.  “I love you,” he murmured.

The next morning, Kurt awoke later than usual.  He had never shared a bed with anyone before, and it had been difficult for him to sleep.

At first, his thoughts had been racing at his own daring in inviting Blaine to sleep in his bed.  Was it okay?  What would Blaine think?  Was he moving too fast?

He felt hyper-aware of his body.  Could Blaine feel his heart pounding where Kurt's chest was pressed up against his back?  Was his breath tickling Blaine's neck?  Where should he put his hands?

Once Blaine's breathing had settled into an easy cadence that signaled he was asleep, Kurt stopped worrying so much.  However, sleep still eluded him.  Lying there with Blaine just felt so good.  

Kurt found his mind drifting back to the summer when they were 12, when they had spent those few wonderful, confusing minutes riding double on Kurt's horse.  Now, as then, they were pressed together, front to back.  Now, as then, Kurt's arms were wrapped tightly around Blaine.  Now, as then, he could almost feel the movement of the horse, rocking their hips together.

Kurt suddenly realized that he had begun rocking his hips into Blaine's ass, and immediately forced himself to stop.  Mortified, he held his breath, praying that he hadn't woken Blaine up.  

After a minute, when Blaine didn't stir, Kurt slowly began easing himself away from his sleeping boyfriend.  Every time Kurt inched away, however, Blaine just snuggled back against him.  Pretty soon Kurt's back was pressed to the wall, and he had nowhere left to go.  

Kurt tried to think un-sexy thoughts.  He finally succeeded with an image of his mother lying in a hospital bed.  But that just made him sad, which made him feel the need to cuddle closer to Blaine for comfort, which soon led back to his original problem.

All in all, it was no wonder that Kurt got very little sleep that night.

Morning found Blaine in an exuberant mood, bursting over with all of the fun things he wanted to do before the campers arrived that afternoon.  Apparently, he had not experienced Kurt's difficulty in sleeping.

Kurt forced his eyes open and stared blearily up at Blaine, who was dancing around the room as he sang an impromptu song about his plans for the day.  “Ugh,” Kurt groaned.  “How can you be so chipper at this ungodly hour?”

“Ungodly hour?  Kurt, it's eight o'clock!  We totally slept in.  Now hurry up and get dressed.  It's a beautiful day!”

Kurt slowly dragged himself out of bed.  “Blaine,” he said, “I really love you.  But you've gotta sleep in your own bunk from now on.”