“I'm glad you guys had a good time on the Fourth.  Sam's family is so nice, and that lake sounds gorgeous…”

Blaine was having a hard time focusing on Kurt's words, and it wasn't just because of the loud music.  His attention was drawn instead to Kurt's fingers, and the way he kept licking them every time he pulled a nacho off the plate and stuck it in his mouth.  They were having dinner at a busy Mexican restaurant near Kurt's place, choosing to sit at the bar rather than wait for a table.  Blaine immediately realized the advantage of this, as he and Kurt were pressed up next to each other, thighs and knees touching, Kurt's hand constantly reaching out to brush his arm or rest on his leg.  Between the proximity and the margaritas, he wasn't sure how much longer he was going to last before needing to either take a break or kiss his boyfriend senseless.

Boyfriend.  Blaine was still more than a little excited about the term.  On the one hand, it had happened kind of quickly – they really had only been dating again for a few weeks.  But for Blaine, there wasn't any question about where he wanted this to go.  He wanted to take it slow, but he certainly didn't have any interest in seeing anyone else, and Kurt seemed to feel the same.  He loved that Kurt had been the one to bring it up, that Kurt really did want him again, really did seem to mean it.  It felt awesome, and that wasn't just the margarita talking.

“Blaine?  You okay?”

“Yes, sorry.  You were saying something about this week?”

“Oh, just that I have to go to another one of those NYADA concerts this Wednesday, if you wanted to come.  I know it's just student stuff, but they're usually pretty good.”

“Sure, that would be great.”  Blaine bit his lip, figuring now was as good a time as any to raise an issue he had been wanting to tell Kurt about.  The nervous feeling in his stomach at the mention of NYADA had overridden any effect from the margarita, anyway.  “Actually, that's something I wanted to talk about with you.”

“What is?”

“Remember when Carmen Tibideaux said she wanted to speak to me?  We were talking about me taking another course with her through the extension school in the fall.  She also asked me to perform at one of those Wednesday night concerts.”

“Blaine, that's fantastic!  You'll be great!” 

“I'm not so sure about that,” Blaine mumbled, Kurt's knee-jerk praise only serving to make him more nervous. 

“Hey, what's the matter?”  Kurt said softly, moving closer and trying to get Blaine to look at him.  “Do you not want to do it?”

“No, I really do, it's just…” He didn't know how to say this without revealing how inadequate he felt.  Blaine hated that he had become so anxious about performing.  It had just started to seem more and more presumptuous to think he could do anything grander than sing for sick kids in the hospital or bored hipsters in coffee shops.  “I'm not a professional, like you.”

“I'm hardly a professional,” Kurt demurred.

“Um, I think that being paid for something is pretty much the definition of professional, and I'm guessing you didn't perform on Broadway for free.”

“Semantics,” Kurt replied.  “But really, what's going on?  This isn't like you, to shy away from the spotlight.”

Blaine's throat closed up.  The Blaine Kurt used to know would jump on a table and sing his heart out at a moment's notice, hell, he'd even convince rival show choirs to join in.  But he wasn't that Blaine anymore, not since his dreams had been crushed along with his leg.  He shook his head at his internal dramatics.  Maybe he could blame it on the margarita.  “That's not how I am now,” he said softly.  Sometimes it seemed like the last thing he wanted was for a spotlight to shine on him.  He just wanted to blend in, for a change, not attract so much attention.

Kurt seemed to realize that Blaine wasn't just joking around.  “You sounded wonderful when you sang to me in the garden.”

“That's different.  That was informal, intimate.  Not what NYADA students expect to see.”

“How about we go over to NYADA sometime, just us, and practice in the round room?  You can get used to the space, get comfortable with how your voice will sound there.  I can even pretend to be Carmen Tibideaux and give you haughty and completely impractical advice.”

Blaine giggled despite his discomfort.  “You could definitely be Carmen Tibideaux.  I bet you intimidate NYADA students just by looking at them.”  He took a deep breath, and sat up a little straighter.  “Could we really do that, go practice there?  You don't mind helping me?”

“Blaine, in what universe would I mind helping you rehearse for a performance?  Isn't that what started off our entire relationship?”

“I don't know, look at how Candles turned out.”

“We killed that song, and you know it.  Just because the judges didn't want to give the prize to two cute boys singing a breakup song to each other, well, there's no accounting for taste.” 

Their entrees arrived, and they busied themselves for a few minutes with their food.  Blaine decided that Kurt's enchilada was much more interesting than his burrito, and stole a few bites off of his plate when Kurt excused himself for a minute to go to the restroom.  He noticed that Kurt's glass was empty, so he gulped down what remained of his own margarita.  Kurt caught his eye as he was heading back to their spot at the bar, the crowds causing him to take a meandering path across the room.  Blaine couldn't help but admire him, tall and lovely, his hair swept up off his forehead, defying gravity and the summer heat.  His outfit had a bit of an elfin quality to it today, a light green button down which made his torso look long and sleek, and a glittery, delicate, leaf shaped brooch. 

Kurt came up behind Blaine and wrapped his arms around him, placing a soft kiss on his neck before sitting back down.  Blaine sort of wanted to just collapse into his arms, but he didn't think the restaurant patrons would appreciate that.  He watched as Kurt picked up his glass and tilted it up to try to get at the remnants of melted ice and diluted margarita that remained, and then licked up a bit of salt from the rim.

Blaine inhaled sharply, causing Kurt to turn back to him.

“What?  Something wrong?”

“Nope, nothing at all.”  Blaine dragged his gaze away from Kurt's mouth and met his gaze.  “Sorry.  You're very distracting.”

Kurt blushed.  “And you're still a lightweight.”  Kurt indicated his empty glass.  “Want another?”

“Are you trying to take advantage of me, sir?”  Blaine joked.

Kurt started to answer, then stopped himself, looking down.

“Hey, I was just kidding,” Blaine said, leaning over and placing a hand on Kurt's thigh.  “I didn't mean to imply that you were.  And I'm not drunk, either, you know.  You're distracting whether or not I've had anything to drink.”  Blaine fluttered his eyelashes a little at Kurt, hoping it would come across as flirty and not just look like he had something stuck in his eye.

“Thanks.”  Kurt looked up and took Blaine's hand from his leg, threading their fingers together.  “It's just that I may have been having some not safe for work thoughts about you, too, and I don't want you to get the wrong idea.”

“If the idea is let's get tipsy and make out, I'm in favor,” Blaine grinned. 

Kurt gave a shy smile.  “Really?”

“Really.  Although we probably need to relocate for the second part of the plan.”  Conveniently, the bartender chose that moment to ask if they wanted refills on their now completely empty glasses.  “In the meantime, Kurt, there's a little bit of salt left on my glass, if you want to finish it….”

Less than an hour later, several more margaritas finished and the bill taken care of, Kurt and Blaine emerged from the restaurant to find that it had started to rain, one of those drenching summer storms that seemed eager to pour as much water on you as possible with no warning whatsoever.  Miraculously, Kurt nabbed a cab right away, causing Blaine to wonder if he had some kind of magic taxi calling powers.  Kurt, the taxi whisperer.  Probably not very likely.

They slid into the back seat, Kurt crashing into Blaine in his eagerness to escape the rain.  “Your place or mine?” Kurt asked, trying to right himself.

Blaine glanced at his watch.  It was after nine o'clock, and Sam wasn't working tonight, so he'd probably be home by himself.  “Mine okay?”

“Sure, but one of these days I'm going to convince you to come see my apartment.”  Kurt leaned in close, his breath hot on Blaine's ear.  “The kitchen is tiny, but my bed is really comfortable….”

“Kurt!”  Blaine laughed.  “I can't believe you just said that.”

“Okay, my sofa is really comfortable too.  Although not as comfortable as yours, where did that thing even come from, oh, damn, Blaine…”

Blaine wasn't really interested in talking about furniture when his hot, wet boyfriend was sitting right next to him, so he had started pressing little kisses to Kurt's neck.  Which were apparently appreciated.

“Blaine, we're in a cab,” Kurt protested weakly.

Any further debate was rendered unnecessary as the taxi arrived at Blaine's building.  They gave the driver an extra tip for taking them such a short distance and got out, Kurt grabbing Blaine around the waist as he stumbled on the curb.  “You okay?” Kurt asked, looking concerned.

Blaine realized Kurt was probably as worried about his reaction as anything else.  “I'm fine, just caught my toe,” he explained, pushing away the expected twinge of embarrassment.  “Or maybe I just wanted an excuse for you to hold me,” he said boldly, smiling up at Kurt.

Kurt laughed and wrapped both arms around Blaine, pulling him tight against his chest.  “You don't ever need an excuse for that.”

Blaine's heart was racing and he didn't feel the rain anymore, just Kurt's arms, warm and strong, holding him close.  Kurt's eyes were sparkling with excitement and happiness, and Blaine just couldn't take it anymore.  He reached a hand up behind Kurt's head and pulled him in for a kiss, which Kurt returned enthusiastically.  Blaine licked over Kurt's lips, tasting rain, and salt, and Kurt.  Kurt nibbled on his lip and stroked his hand up Blaine's back, and Blaine arched into Kurt with delight.

“God, Blaine, we really should go inside,” Kurt groaned, as Blaine moved to kiss along his jaw.

“No one cares.  Everyone's too busy trying to get out of the rain,” Blaine replied between kisses.

Kurt caught Blaine's lips and gave him a hard kiss, sliding his hand down to cup Blaine's ass at the same time.  Blaine gasped and thrust forward, wanting to get even closer.  Kurt kept up the pressure for a long moment, then slowly pulled back, looking proud of himself.  He moved his hands to Blaine's waist as they stood there catching their breath.

“Any chance you'll let me take you inside now?”  Kurt asked.  “We really need to get out of these wet clothes.”  Kurt's voice was low and rough and it pulled at Blaine, who let his eyes drift down Kurt's long legs and back up again.  Kurt's pants were so tightly plastered to his skin he might as well not have been wearing any.  Almost.

“Okay.”  Blaine hadn't really planned on getting naked with Kurt tonight – he had imagined a bit more of a controlled atmosphere for that, and not quite this soon, but his brain was fuzzy with margaritas and rain and the taste of his delicious boyfriend, so he figured he'd go with the flow.

Kurt picked up Blaine's cane from where it had fallen and led Blaine into the building, the entryway oddly quiet after the rush of the rain.  He pulled Blaine into another heated kiss as they waited for the elevator, pushing Blaine's waterlogged curls away from his face.  “Don't tell me what my hair looks like,” Kurt mumbled as he pressed into Blaine.

“Keep kissing me and your secret is safe,” Blaine laughed between kisses.  Finally the elevator came and they swayed into it, groaning when it came to a halt on Blaine's floor and they had to pull apart so that Blaine could find his keys.

They finally got the key in the lock and the door swung open.  Sam was in the kitchen, and the appalled look on his face made Blaine realize that they must have moved past drowned rat straight on to hurricane victim.  “Sam, hi, I know we look ridiculous.”  Blaine toed off his soggy boat shoes and then broke out in giggles as Kurt fought with his oxfords, grabbing on to Blaine for support, which quickly landed them both on the floor in one big, wet bundle.  Kurt, having landed directly on top of Blaine, gave up on his shoes for a moment to push the neck of Blaine's polo aside and lick along his collarbone.  Blaine immediately decided that easy access to this part of his anatomy was a solid vote for foregoing bowties in the future, although he thought he probably would have to make some exceptions.

“Um, guys, hey, can you stop for a second?”  Sam's voice sounded strained, but Blaine thought that might just be the water in his ears.  Nonetheless, making out on the hallway floor wasn't really polite, as awesome as it felt.  Kurt rolled off him and sighed, clearly perturbed at the interruption.

“Look, I tried to text you, but you forgot your phone.”  Sam glanced over to where Blaine's cell phone sat on the hall table, looking almost panicked now.

“Sam?  What's wrong?”  Blaine was trying to stand up but his legs wouldn't cooperate.  Kurt rose and pulled him to his feet, keeping a hand on his waist to steady him.

“Nothing bad, dude, don't freak out.  I just wanted to warn you and Kurt…”  Sam trailed off, looking away from Blaine, shoulders hunched and nervous.

“Warn us about what?”  Kurt asked.  Suddenly his face froze as he caught sight of the person coming towards them down the hall.

“Rachel?”  Blaine stammered as he followed Kurt's gaze, a sing-song voice in his head saying <i>should have gone to Kurt's place.</i>  This conviction was further cemented as he felt Kurt's hand drop off his back.  By the time he got his balance and turned around, Kurt was gone.