Sometimes Id be willing to swear that I'm bipolar. I've hardly spoken to Blaine, let alone touched him for the last week. I grabbed his shoulder four days ago when I told him our test results. Positive. And then I handed him the medication, hugged him, and walked away.

Blaine spent the weekend with his Dad so I've had an opportunity to think of the direction life is taking me.

Getting the shit beat out of me almost every day is not one of them.

Today is one of those days.

Blaine's in his World Cultures class when I'm done nursing my black eye. I stand at the closed door, peering through the window, waiting for him to look up. A couple minutes pass before he finally spots me, his hand shooting into the air with a nervous glance back at me.

The exchange between him and his teacher is quick.

“Kurt, what the hell?” he blurts, guiding me towards the closest bathroom.

He ushers me in and starts fussing over my eye.

“I'm transferring back to McKinley.”

Blaine stops his movements. "Why?"

“Theres nothing for me here," I finally say.

Blaine flinches and looks down. Hurt.

I sigh, tilting my head a bit to press a kiss to his jaw. "You arent for me here," I whisper. "If you were ready to leave the security of our basement... but you're not...”

"I dont understand," he answers, voice breaking. “Kurt, you arent a quitter."

"Im just making life easier for the both of us."

Silence.

"I mean," I continue. "You must be momentarily forgetting that people can see us or youd be having a panic attack."

Blaine does freeze up at that and moves away.

"See?" I shake my head. "What I hate the most about this school is the person it turns you into."

"Lets go home," says Blaine, ignoring my statement.

He knows it's true.

I nod my head. Home does sound comforting.

******

We return to an empty house, not that I mind, quite the opposite really, and we unlock the door and walk to the basement.

I click the lock in place and walk towards Blaine. My thumb reaches his face, stroking down his cheek, rubbing over his lips and settling on his chin, tilting his face towards me. My lips press against his and I let out a sigh, nibbling on his lower lip. Blaine gasps and grabs for my hips, pulling me closer. When were flush against each other, chest to chest and pelvic bone to pelvic bone, I pull back. "I really like you," I admit.

Blaine's fingers twitch on my hips. “What about Sebastian?”

"Were on a break," I inform, lips ghosting over his.

"Whether we get back together or not-" I cut myself off, kissing him again. "-is completely up to you. Because," I continue. "As much as I like you, I just cant handle being with a complete closet case at the moment."

Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it.

"Im not expecting you to proclaim it to the whole school, or even your Mom at the moment, but if Im with you, I want to be able to be honest about it and be able to show it.”

Blaine nods and I reconnect our lips, slipping my tongue in against his. My hands wander to his ass and squeeze for a moment before I use my grip to start guiding his hips to work with mine, rolling motions that create just enough friction to make my already hard cock ache. He moans and I inch us towards the beds, my lips never leaving his. The back of his knees hit the edge of my bed and I push him down slowly, lips still connected, and straddle his hips.

Finally I pull back and peel my shirt off slowly, watching Blaine watch me.

I'm not sure when we both get completely undressed or when I'm reaching towards the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube. "Its been over a week," I tell him, shoving the bottle into his hands. "I dont want to do it dry."

"You sure you want this?" he asks, gasping slightly.

I nod.

"You arent going to regret it later?"

"Depends on you," I shrug.

A head of dark hair nods and suddenly he's leaning forward and lightly kissing me before screwing the tube open and squirting lube onto his fingers, sliding his hand down to the crack of my ass. My breath hitches as his index finger touches my hole, pushing slightly. Blaine raises an eyebrow. Asking for permission. Really? I nod and he slips two fingers into me in one go.

Blaine starts to pump his fingers in and out, in and out, in and out, and oh-

Prostate. Bingo. Good job Blaine!

I practically ride his fingers from that point on.

“Kurt,” he lets out, following it up with a small whine.

I groan and pull away, swiping a condom off the nightstand and rolling it on his dick with precision timing.

Blaine's eyes fall shut as I slip myself onto his cock. He moans loudly when he's all the way in and digs his nails deep into my hips.

My legs move in tight against his waist and I rock back and forth before pulling off of him and slamming myself back down.

I pull of again and nod at Blaine, he looks puzzled. I nod again.

Realization hits him and he thrusts up, the grip on my hips loosening as he does so. Before I can do anything else the grip tightens again and he pulls me up, just the tip of his cock still inside and he thrusts up again.

Holy fuck.

I groan, head falling back as my insides shudder around him which in turn earns me a long, drawn-out moan from his lips. I bounce off again and he pulls me down once more. I reach out to grab onto his shoulders, feeling like I'm going to fall off the face of the Earth if I'm not holding onto him. "Fuck, youre gorgeous," I moan, eyes open and staring into his.

Blaine shakes his head. “Not as-as m-much as youuuuuu" The last word is drawn out into a loud moan when I bounce on his cock a few times, giving no time to meet me with a thrust.

"Blaine,” I whimper as his hand wraps around my cock. I bounce a few more times and cease, gasping for breath.

With his other hand he pulls me down for a kiss and he's rocking into me so good.

“Kurt,” is all he manages before we both cum.

We lie there for a few moments before I pull myself off of him and lean against his chest.

"Ive tried to tell Dave for a week," he mutters. 

Seriously? We're going to try and have this conversation again? Right now?

“About me being gay, I mean." he sighs slightly. "But I couldnt, I cant, I..." he trails off.

I push away from him, reaching down to pull the condom off, and move towards the bathroom. The condom gets thrown in the toilet and I grab a wash cloth, dampening it before exiting. I throw it at him before moving over to the desk and ripping a piece of paper out of my notebook, grabbing a pen along with it.

I crawl back into my bed with him and hand him the pen and paper. “If you cant say it, write it,” I tell him, my head resting against his chest.