Chapter 10

February 2015

Adam tapped on his boyfriend's door and waited, even though he had a key.  He wasn't here to see Kurt, so it did seem appropriate to knock.  After a moment, he heard someone approaching inside.  If he timed it right, it should be the person he was looking for.  The door opened to reveal Blaine Berry, wearing a short-sleeved polo shirt so bright yellow it almost hurt to look at it, matching capri pants, a bow tie, and a pair of boat shoes with yellow peds for socks.  This utterly absurd, preppy little boy was Adam's competition. Adam stood and simply surveyed him for a moment  without a greeting.  Notebook and pen in one hand, Blaine held the door ajar with the other and blinked back at him.  Finally, the boy broke the silence.  

“Um … I think maybe you and Kurt got your signals crossed.  He always goes to Vogue.com on Thursday afternoons.  He won't be home for another three hours at least,” Blaine said politely, glancing at his watch.

“I'm not here to see him,” Adam said, brushing past Blaine into the apartment. Turning around, he added, “I'm here to see you.”

Blaine looked increasingly confused.  “Me?  What for?” He shut the door and laid his notebook and pen neatly on the desk beside an open textbook.  “Is this about Kurt's 21st birthday next week?  Are you planning a surprise for him and need my help?”  His eyes lit up in excitement at the prospect.

Damn. It.  Adam had forgotten Kurt's birthday was next week.  “No, Blaine, it's not about my boyfriend's birthday.  Is anyone else here, or can we talk freely?”

Blaine crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged.  “It's just me."  After another lengthy pause, he asked, "Are you going to tell me what this is about or make me guess?  Because I have a lot of homework to get done, and then I'll have to start dinner for Kurt and me. He likes to have it on the table already when he gets in.”

Adam exploded.  “That's it!  That's exactly what I'm here to talk about, Blaine, thank you.  There's no Kurt and you.  You're roommates.  Thats all.  You need to understand what your role is in his life -- and it's not as Kurt's little housewife making him dinner.”

Blaine's big brown eyes made him look like a confused baby seal.  And like Adam was clubbing him, when it was Adam who should be upset here.  Blaine said plaintively, “I don't know what you're even talking about.  Why are you so mad that I'm eating dinner with Kurt?"

"We both know why.”  Adam felt his eyes bulging at Blaine, and was all the more frustrated by the blank, uncomprehending look Blaine returned.  “It's because you want to come between me and Kurt!” Adam finally yelled, getting in Blaine's personal space and looking as intimidating as he knew how, which wasn't very, but he was a lot older and bigger so he hoped it was effective enough.  “I know you have feelings for him, and want to steal him from me, or some such nonsense.  You need to realize that it won't happen and back off. You're only wasting your time and making a fool of yourself."

He tapped Blaine firmly on the chest for emphasis, and the boy looked down a moment where Adams index finger had jabbed. Adam felt another twinge of guilt, but he was only trying to protect his relationship, and of course he would never resort to actual violence, so- -

But then Blaine looked up again.  And didn't look frightened, or guilty, or upset in the slightest.  The sad baby seal look was definitely gone.

“You - you came here to tell me to back off?  Not to try to get Kurt away from you?” Blaine asked breathlessly.  His face was alight with pure, radiant joy, and he clasped his hands under his chin like a little boy outside a candy store window.  “You think I could steal Kurt!” he gasped.  “You're afraid I will!!  That means - - you think - - “

“Blaine, calm down,” Adam said, annoyed, but Blaine was not calming down.  He started flapping his hands and trembling all over; he was panting and red-cheeked, and his eyes were downright starry.

“You're jealous, and you're threatened by me!” Blaine shouted triumphantly, pointing both outstretched arms at Adam as he backed away.  Adam tried to respond but Blaine tossed his arms overhead and gave a victory whoop, before making a running leap over the back of the couch, almost tripping, to get to his room.  He turned at the entrance to his room, spun all the way around and literally jumped for joy, before grabbing a garishly patterned, very expensive blazer from his rack and racing back past Adam.  

“Where are you going?  This conversation isn't over,” Adam insisted, starting to feel desperate.  

“Yeah it is,” Blaine said, still grinning from ear to ear while he pulled on the jacket.  “And I can't sit here, I'm too -- I have to - - I have to run it off, I have to - - “

Blaine was still nearly vibrating with excitement as he grabbed his keys from a bowl by the door.  Before Adam could stop him, Blaine hurled open the door and tore down the hallway, Adam left stunned in his wake.  

Adam went to the window. Watching Blaine running down the street at full tilt into the distance, jumping up onto stoops and hugging startled passersby, Adam sighed.  That did not go well. At all.

* * *

Kurt trudged home, exhausted from a long day of drama school and high fashion.  But it was a good exhaustion, the kind that comes from living your wildest dreams to the fullest.  He shut the door behind him and sniffed the air appreciatively.  Blaine had been cooking something amazing, and Kurt saw that the table was nicely set for two with candles and all their best china and flatware and flowers.  

“Hey, Blaine, everything smells great!” he shouted, opening a pot lid on the stove.

Blaine burst out of the bathroom and hurried over.  “Sit down!  Don't lift a finger.  I've got it,” Blaine protested.  He looked happy and especially handsome today, his eyes and skin glowing as if lit from within. Blaine smiled as he pulled out a chair and gestured to it.  

“It's a little dark in here, isn't it?” Kurt asked, looking curiously up at the dimmed light fixture as he sat down.  Blaine didn't seem to hear him.

“I made something from that French cookbook you got at the antique bookstore last week,” Blaine said, busily placing the food on the table.  “And I picked up a cheesecake for you.  Your favorite.”

“That was really sweet of you, but I hate to think you wasted your time on all this trouble.  Midterms are coming up ..."

“I don't mind,” Blaine said warmly as he sat down and picked up his napkin.  Their eyes met and held for a moment, Blaine's soft and sweet, and Kurt blushed, looking away.  It wasn't just dark in here, it was getting a little hot.  He took a gulp from his water glass.

They continued dinner, talking and joking, but there was something charged in the atmosphere.  Blaine was giving Kurt frequent shy glances, and even though they weren't touching, he was sitting much closer than he usually did during their dinners together.  Kurt was acutely aware of his friend's physical presence, and of Blaines knee a few inches away from his.  “Is there a leaf missing from this table?” he asked, his voice coming out higher than usual.  Blaine shrugged, and reached across the table.  Kurt jumped at the sudden movement, and Blaine looked up.

"You done with your entree?  I can take that and put it in the sink for you.”

Kurt nodded breathlessly.  Blaine took the dinner plates to the sink and bustled around a moment cutting the cake and garnishing the slices the way Kurt had shown him, with berries and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. Finally, he leaned over Kurt's shoulder to place a dessert plate in front of him.  

Kurt felt Blaine's free hand lightly rest on his shoulder.  Without thinking, he reached up and gripped it. They both froze.

Kurts cellphone on the table abruptly blared “Baby Got Back” and flashed his boyfriend's picture.  Startled, Kurt jumped up, shaking off Blaine's hand and grabbing his phone.  

“Hey, what's up, Buttercup?” Adam's voice sounded, loudly, over the phone. Blaine was standing by Kurt's abandoned chair looking adorably worried, and Kurt gave him a guilty look.  

“Nothing.  Nothing, just having dinner with Blaine.”  He took the phone and walked quickly, avoiding Blaine's eyes, toward his own curtained-off room.  

“Oh.  Did he … did he say anything … interesting happened today?” Adam asked.

Kurt frowned.  “What do you mean, interesting?  What are you getting at?”

“Nothing.  Just - never mind.  Look, I haven't seen you in days.  I feel like lately when we talk … I don't know.  Something's off, Kurt.  Am I doing something wrong?  I feel like we're drifting apart.”

Shutting his eyes, Kurt breathed in deeply.  Things were becoming strained and awkward between him and Adam, not least because he was fighting real feelings for Blaine.  But even without that, their relationship had gotten ... stale.  Maybe he had been trying too hard, for the wrong reasons. He just didn't know how to tell Adam that without hurting his feelings.  

“Kurt?”

“I'm here.”

“I think we need some quality time together.  And not at your place.  Can you pack a few things and come on over?  Spend tonight and the weekend with me?”

“I don't know …. Blaine's alone here, we were having dinner - -  “

There was a strained pause, during which Kurt knew he had just made a tactical error.

“Kurt, Blaine will be fine on his own.  C'mon.  I'm your boyfriend, and I need you.  Please.”

Kurt looked out through the curtain and saw Blaine anxiously sitting at the table by himself, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the tabletop.  He felt a surge of panic.  He had to get out of here.  He needed to be away from Blaine, from his adoring, worshipful eyes  and his beautiful mouth and … he needed to work on his adult relationship.  He'd gotten over-involved with Blaine, enjoyed Blaine's obvious interest in him, a little too much.  He'd let his real relationship grow stagnant.  This … forbidden mutual crush or fantasy whatever the heck he and Blaine had going ... was wrong and inappropriate.  Hed promised Rachel long ago not to let this happen and he needed to put a stop to it.  He owed that to Blaine, to Adam, and--yes--to himself.  

“Kurt?”

“I'll be over in half an hour. Bye."

"Kurt. I love you."

"I -- Ill see you soon."  He hung up.

He grabbed a Louis Vuitton overnight bag from under his bed, stuffing clothes and toiletries into it.  Blaine came to the curtain and stood watching him.

“Going on a trip?”

“Um, just going to spend a few days at Adam's.”

“Oh … but … I had a surprise,” Blaine said.  He held out two tickets hopefully, like an offering. “There's a Noel Coward retrospective playing tonight at ten at the art theater.  I know you love him, so I picked these up and - -”

“It's Thursday night, Blaine,” Kurt snapped.  “You know your curfew is ten on school nights.”

Blaine drew back, looking stung.  

Kurt steadied his voice, and looked away while zipping up the overnight bag.  “I'm sorry, but the answer is no.  You need to get up early for school, and I have other plans with my boyfriend,” he said, trying to sound firm.  He avoided Blaine's eyes, hating himself, but he had to do this.  “I need to get going now, so I can get to Adam's before it's too late.  Do you mind taking care of the dishes?”

There was a silence that lengthened painfully before he finally looked up.  Blaine looked deeply hurt and disappointed.  After another awful, silent moment, Blaine turned and stalked to his room without a word.

Kurt felt his heart ache inside, felt it beating against his ribcage as if it were trying to escape, like a fluttering bird, and join Blaine's.   Why did it feel like their hearts belonged together when they … just couldn't?  He knew Blaine still loved him.  He'd seen it in Blaine's eyes.  If Kurt gave in to temptation, he could say the word and be with Blaine. He could let himself be loved back by his best friend who made him laugh, who supported and understood him, and who challenged him despite their age gap.  

That gap seemed so hypertechnical now, with Blaine a junior in high school and so mature for his age, and it was the same, totally acceptable age gap he had in reverse with Adam, but he had to remember that  Blaine was only sixteen.  And not just any sixteen-year old; he was his friend's brother and his roommate.  If he crossed that line, Blaine's overprotective, emotionally fragile sister would see it as the ultimate betrayal. And if Kurt went there and it didn't work out, it would turn Blaine's world upside down. It would be wrong and it  could hurt Blaine and Rachel, two people he would rather die than hurt.

He picked up his bag and walked away.

* * *

“Ouch, Killer.  Sorry.”  Sebastian was lounging casually on Blaine's bed listening to his roller-coaster of a day.   “Look, I've seen ol Kurt “love of your life” Hummel with Crawford at NYADA and out around town.  I think he's really trying to make that relationship work, I hate to tell you.”

“Does he seem happy, though?” Blaine asked wistfully, taking a pull on a bottle of the expensive beer Sebastian had brought over. "I dont think so ... I really dont. I think he wants to be with me.  But am I kidding myself?"

Sebastian studied Blaine's sensitive profile.  He liked Blaine, a lot.  He liked talking to him, almost as much as he liked looking at him and imagining how hot he'd be in bed.  Sebastian had never stopped wanting to add Blaine to his list of conquests … and even give Blaine the honor of being his first actual boyfriend of more than twenty minutes.

But Sebastian had backed off when he turned eighteen and especially when Blaine's parents had died.  Even he had some scruples. They had settled into a comfortable, close platonic friendship.  Unfortunately when Sebastian had renewed his seduction attempts during a Warbler reunion in Ohio after Blaine finally turned sixteen, he had gotten the old “I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship” line.  Which really sucked.

Sebastian sighed, peeling the label on his beer.  “I don't know, Blaine.  He looks like he's settling, to be honest.  Or maybe deflecting his feelings.  Based on what Sir Plagiarizes-a-Lot did to you this afternoon, the boyfriend is nervous about you."   He shrugged and admitted, grudgingly, "Look, I've seen  how Kurt  looks at you. I think hes got the hots for you."

Blaine looked thrilled for a moment, then depressed again.  “I think so too, Sebastian. He acts like it. But if he does, why does he keep backing off at the last minute and going back to Adam?  Why won't he give us a chance?”

“Well, if you really want my opinion - - “

“Oh, I do, Seb, or I wouldn't ask.  Tell me what you think,” Blaine said earnestly.

Sebastian pointed his beer at Blaine.  “Was that what you were wearing for your little romantic dinner?”

Blaine looked down, an adorable wrinkle between his dark eyebrows.  “Yeah, what's wrong with it?”

“Nothing.  It's great! Very colorful, and very coordinating.  Did you get it from the Garanimals collection?”

Blaine flushed, and Sebastian thought again how cute and hot this kid was.  The loft was empty and here they were, sitting in bed together, fully dressed, and Sebastian was giving advice on how to impress another guy.  What the hell, Smythe.

“These are Brooks Brothers,” Blaine said, with an attempt at dignity.  “They are classics.”

Sebastian raised a doubtful eyebrow.  “Maybe if you got them in normal colors.  As it is, you look like the yellow Teletubby.  That's no way to get Kurt to stop thinking of you as a kid.  You have to start looking and acting more like an adult.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?  Grow a beard and go around the loft doing my taxes?”

“No, dummy, but a little sexy scruff sure wouldnt hurt.  And some new clothes, a hot new look."

“And then what?  Serenade him again?  That went horrible the last time.  Or is that what you're hoping?”

Sebastian  paused.  What was that weird emotion rising up?  It felt kind of uncomfortable and bad.  Like he suddenly didn't like himself as much as he usually did.  Could this be .... guilt?  Yet another unfamiliar feeling that Blaine Anderson-Berry evoked.  

He looked sheepishly at Blaine. “So you know I was being a douche back at Dalton, that time I let you sing him that dirty song at the Lima Bean?”

“I kind of figured it out when you came by afterwards to try and ‘console' me -- and a full-size bottle of lube fell out of your pocket when Rachel took your coat. My dads nearly had matching strokes.”

Sebastian squirmed.  “I'm really sorry about that whole incident … but this is different.  I'm really trying to help you out as a friend.  Also, its obvious you'll never fuck me, until you get this hard-on for Kurt out of your system.  So I'll help you get him.  That's how great a friend I am. And step one is to make you over."

Blaine looked doubtful.  “I'm really not sure about changing to try to get Kurt. I want him to like the real me."

Rolling his eyes, Sebastian cracked open a second beer and thought the situation over.  Anyone could see Kurt was definitely interested and probably only needed a tiny bit more incentive, a little push in the right direction.  He clearly was hung up on the age thing, which was ridiculous at this point.  Blaine was no innocent babe in the woods.  Sebastian knew that Blaine had fooled around at NYADA Prep with a few random gay and bi boys, and had even started experimenting a little back at Dalton.   

If Kurt could just see that Blaine wasn't some child, but rather a hot piece of very fine ass that anybody would want and should tap … well, more than likely this standoff between Blainers and Kurt would ‘climax' as it were.  Once Blaine got this itch scratched, he'd probably be a lot better off and realize Kurt was nothing special. The fantasy would run its course.  

And at some point after that, hopefully, Blaine would start to appreciate Sebastian's own considerable charms and attractions.  Sebastian was nothing if not a long-term strategist.  But how to get Kurt's head out of his ass and get this over with?  Especially when Blaine was so stubborn about staying true to himself or some such nonsense?

Sebastian continued mulling it over while inching a hand down Blaine's thigh, smiling when Blaine slapped it away as usual.  He had seen seen Kurt “Betty White” Hummel and his Mr. Belvedere boyfriend out and about town. They had a routine, from what hed heard at NYADA,  and went most Fridays to a certain happening gay club in the Village, with great music and just the right atmosphere for hookups.  And Sebastian had a friend who could get him and Blaine in. He grinned to himself, then let it subside when he saw Blaine's suspicious face.

“That's not very proactive, but I respect that you gotta be you.  Anyway, even you have to admit that sulking here all weekend is a bad idea and won't make things any better.  Tell you what. Lets go to sleep now. But tomorrow morning, after you make me brunch, were going shopping.  And tomorrow night, youre going to let me dress you up all sexy and take you clubbing to see how much attention youll get. Itll be fun."

"You mean you want me to be your gay wingman.  Well, I guess dancing sounds fun. Okay."

"You wont regret it, Killer."

* * * *

Kurt trailed into the club behind Adam.  He was trying his best to get into the spirit of the evening.  As he saw it, their problem was that they didn't really have much to say to each other anymore, or that much in common. The relationship wasnt going anywhere.  Spending time out where they wouldn't have to talk was no real solution, but he was willing to give it a try if that was what Adam wanted.  After this much time together, he supposed he owed Adam that.  And maybe being out of the loft with Adam would help redirect his attention where it should be, on his boyfriend and away from his unfairly attractive and forbidden roommate.

Like every Friday, the club was packed with half-dressed, good-looking men grinding up on each other.  The music was pounding and the lights blinding, all the better to discourage conversation and encourage anonymous hookups, some of which were taking place right on the dance floor.  Kurt sighed, bored and turned off from all of it. He turned to Adam to try and shout over the din that they should just go, find someplace to sit and talk, but Adam shouted first: “Let me try to get to the bar!  Your usual?”

“Sure,” Kurt said, giving up.  Lately when he and Adam tried to spend time anywhere alone, things got awkwardly quiet, and even Adams impressions were getting less and less … impressive. Kurt had realized that Adams repertoire was limited to doing a British accent, which he already had.  Maybe it was best that they stay here where conversation wasn't necessary.  Of course, he and Blaine had known each other for years, since they were five and nine years old, and somehow never ran out of things to say to each other.  But that didnt make Blaine any less underage or any less Rachels kid brother.

“Get us a seat someplace private!” Adam shouted, gesturing toward the back corner where there were some dimly lit couches.  

Kurt smiled as brightly as he could, and shouldered his way through the crowd to the sitting area.  He inspected the couches for signs of bodily fluid before sitting down on the one with the best view of the rest of the club.

Craning his neck, he saw that the crowd was three deep around the bar.  Looked like Adam would be a while.  Turning to watch the dance floor, he perked up at the sight of some very promising new talent he hadn't seen around on previous Fridays.  He craned his neck to watch.  It was a dark-haired, slim young man who reminded him vaguely of Blaine, sandwiched between two other men, dancing with total abandon, hands raised and clasped overhead, his head thrown back and his dress shirt and vest gaping open to the waist.  Nice, he thought appreciatively, leaning forward for a better look.

A strobe light passed over the dancing hottie's face and he caught his breath.  It was Blaine.  His Blaine, here, at his and Adam's club, dancing with two other men like it was his job.  He seemed different here … grown up and so, so beautiful with his dark curly hair wild around his face, sporting a day and a half's worth of dark stubble, and his eyes lined in smudged black kohl.   Kurt couldn't take his eyes off him.  He edged forward in his seat, and licked his lips.  Blaine's dancing was a peculiar mixture of his usual joyful innocence and something new … something sultry and wild.  Kurt bit his lip and kept watching and admiring from the shadows, his heart melting at the sight of the boy he adored, even from afar when he wasn't allowed to approach and had to see him grinding up against other boys.  

And then Blaine turned to look at him directly, clearly catching him staring.  Kurt's eyes widened in alarm, and a very naughty grin spread over Blaine's face.   

Kurt swallowed, willing his rational mind to make an appearance, finally. Blaine was not supposed to be out at a club.  He was not old enough.  He probably bought a fake ID to get in here.  He should be reprimanded and sent home immediately. Rachel would be furious if she knew what he was up to.

All of that was true. And it was also true that  Blaine looked sexier than anything Kurt had ever seen in his life.

Kurt felt his heart racing wildly as Blaine disentangled himself from his partners - one of whom was Sebastian, Kurt realized with a pang of rageful, possessive jealousy - and started sauntering over Kurt's way.   Kurt began to panic.

Go home, Blaine.  Go home.  Don't come over here! Stop being so hot!

Blaine bounded up to him with a blinding, heart stopping smile, his eyes sparkling.  “Hey, Kurt.  What are you doing here all by your lonesome?”  Kurt went blank and completely hard all at once. His mouth opened but no words could find their way to his brain, with all the blood in his body rushing south, and he sat staring at his friend with his mouth gaping open like an idiot.

Still grinning, Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurts hand before he could explain that he was there with Adam.  “C'mon, dance with me!” Blaine shouted, pulling him to a stand.

Blaine led him out onto the very middle of the dance floor, and before he could collect his wits, Kurt was dancing to an old school Justin Timberlake song with the one boy in the world that he wanted above all others, the one boy he was most forbidden to touch.  The beat of the music throbbed in time with his racing heart, and the clubs heat brought a flush and dampness to their skin.  The crowd pressed in around them, and somehow he found himself up against Blaine's bare chest through his open shirt.  Blaine's arms tangled around his neck, and Kurt's arms were for some reason around Blaine's waist, hands stroking Blaines back under the loose tails of his shirt.

They fit together perfectly, moved together perfectly.  Why was it so perfect, god - - what about Adam, what about Rachel - -  Blaine nestled his face against Kurt's cheek, then moved his mouth lower, soft lips and rough stubble pressed against Kurts neck.  Their dancing slowed to a sway, their arms tightening around one another.

And then … the unmistakable sensation of Blaine audaciously licking a stripe of the sweaty skin just under Kurts ear.  Kurt felt a jolt of electricity.

As nice, as sweet, as pleasant as Adam was in all areas including the bedroom, Kurt had never been this turned on in his life.  Without thinking, he seized a handful Blaine's silky dark curls at the nape of his neck and jerked, yanking Blaine's face up, and looked into his eyes.  Blaine's mouth dropped in surprise as Kurt pulled the boy's head forward, claiming Blaine's open mouth with his own.  Blaine made a tiny gasp at the first touch of his lips, but quickly recovered, sliding his tongue along Kurt's lower lip and moaning into a wet, sloppy, searching kiss.  Kurt ran his fingers gently through Blaine's tangled hair, smiling a little at the taste of diet Dr. Pepper, Blaine's ridiculous favorite drink, still lingering on his soft lips.  He passed an arm around Blaine's neck to bring him closer, and thrilled when Blaine stood on tiptoe and pressed his entire body, hot and warm and hard, against his.

Finally kissing Blaine at last felt like so many different  things all at once.  It felt like coming home at last after a long trip, and falling into your own bed again with relief. It felt like gulping down a long drink of cold water after nearly dying of thirst.  It felt like finding another half of himself that hed never known was missing.  He was conscious of only one thing, and that was the need to pull Blaine as close as he could, to taste every part of him, to feel him and to hear the sounds Blaine made when he did.  They melted into one being at that moment, everything else blurring into the background.  The entire world felt like it shrank down to just the two of them.

Kurt vaguely realized Blaine was guiding him toward the edge of the dance floor with gentle nudges of his hips, into a dim corner.  It was dark, it was noisy, it was hot, and somehow Blaine was kissing him slow and sweet and deep and gentle all at once, holding Kurt's face with both hands, his fingers stroking softly.  Kurt held on for dear life, gripping Blaine's tiny waist with the flat palms of both hands as hard and tight as he could.  He couldn't get close enough.  There was no such thing as close enough.  

Then, still kissing him feverishly, Blaine slipped one hand from Kurt's face and down between their tightly pressed-together bodies, and fumbled at Kurt's belt buckle.   

Kurt came to his senses suddenly and grabbed Blaine's hand, pulling away from Blaine's kiss.  Kurt leaned his cheek against Blaine's newly rough, stubbled face, and panted heaving breaths, trying to regain control.  He wasn't able to speak yet; he was too overwhelmed and confused, but after a moment he looked squarely in Blaine's face and shook his head.  He let go and turned around - - to face a furious Adam holding two frozen strawberry daiquiris.

Adam's face was dark with anger.  “You little asshole,” he hissed at Blaine, stepping forward, and flinging the two brightly colored drinks at them both.  Instinctively, Kurt shoved Blaine out of the way and took the entire chilly onslaught in his own face.  

Kurt spluttered, and for a moment he felt like he was back at McKinley with the melting red ice dripping down his face and neck, and the crowd pointing at him. But unlike his many high school slushyings, there was an added painful sting  from the rum and lime juice, and from the uncomfortable fact that he probably deserved it this time.

Without a word, Adam stalked off, and Blaine, apparently unaware of his  height and weight disadvantage, hurled himself furiously toward Adam's retreating form.  Kurt caught Blaine around his waist, holding him back, and shouted frantically over the din of the music.  "No, Blaine!  It's okay – just give me a minute, please, I need to talk to him.”

Blaine turned in his arms and stared at him. Shaking his head, he pulled back a step.  Kurt reached out and laid a hand on Blaines face for a moment.  “It's okay.  I'll be back in a minute to talk about ... what just happened."

Kurt scrubbed at his dripping face with his handkerchief as he chased and caught up with Adam at the door of the club.  “Adam, wait,” he begged, while Adam shrugged his way into his coat at coat check.  

“Find your own way home,” Adam snarled, and Kurt stared, shocked again.  Adam's eyes suddenly looked tired.  “What in the bloody hell was that, Kurt?  How long have you been  fucking that kid?”

“No!  It's - - it's not like that - - nothing's happened between us until just now. I lost my head somehow.  I haven't cheated on you with him.  I swear.”

Adam retrieved his beanie from his coat pocket and pulled it on.  “That's a lie.”  He waved a hand at Kurt's spluttered protests.  “I don't mean about sleeping with him. Im talking about whats been happening between you emotionally.  You just haven't admitted it … not to me, maybe not even to yourself. ”  

Kurt wanted to deny it.  He really did, for so many reasons.  But his heart wouldn't cooperate with his brain or his mouth, and he stood there struggling with what to say.  The best he could come up with was a feeble, “I didn't want to hurt anybody.”

Adam smiled sadly.  “I know.  Goodbye, Kurt.”

Kurt whispered goodbye to Adam, and then turned to look for Blaine.  He was surprised to see him standing ten or fifteen feet away, at the edge of the dance floor, watching intently.  He started toward Blaine and was surprised again when the boy brushed past him, heading to the coat check and flinging a ticket down along with a ten dollar bill.  Kurt hurried over.  He set down his ticket and fumbled for a tip.  “You're leaving?”

Blaine nodded as his coat was handed over the counter.  

“Wait.  We have to talk,” Kurt said, grabbing his coat and following Blaine out the door.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I don't feel like dancing anymore.  I want to go home.”

“Listen, please,” Kurt pleaded, shivering in the cold in his clammy, Daiquiri-soaked shirt.

“I've had it, Kurt.” Blaine turned and stared him down.  “You look at me like you feel something for me.  You give me every reason to think you do -- and then, it's all ‘go away little boy' and ‘you misunderstood'.  I'm not in the mood for your weird games anymore!”

“That's not what I was going to say,” Kurt protested.  “I wanted to tell you that I do care.  A lot.  But –“

Blaine shook his head disgustedly and started down the street, and all Kurt could think was to hell with it, with everything.  He could make this work, he could, he had to, because he couldn't let Blaine walk away thinking he didn't want him.  

He caught up with Blaine in a few long strides and grabbed him by the arm, backing him up against a nearby store window, placing his hands on the smooth, cold glass on either side of Blaine's head and trying to look into Blaine's sullen, hurt eyes.

“Listen, will you?  I'm trying to explain. I do have strong feelings for you.  And I want us to explore that.”

Blaine's eyebrows flew up, and to Kurt's utter surprise, the boy cracked a cocky grin.  “Well, maybe you should ask me on a date, then.  You know, woo me. I'm not some floozy or sure thing.  I deserve wooing.”

Kurt bit his lip to smother a smile.  Blaine, it seemed, knew what he was doing more than Kurt realized.  And his take-charge attitude was hot as hell, too.  “Yes.  You do deserve that.  Which fits in well with what I have to say next.  We – can't be intimate.”

“Tempting offer,” Blaine deadpanned.  “But Kurt, all that's just silly.  We can be like a normal couple.  I've had sex before, if that's what's worrying you.  You won't be despoiling me or anything.”

Jealousy surged up in Kurt's heart and he shook his head to clear it.  Considering that he'd been parading Adam around in Blaine's face up until, oh, five minutes ago, he couldn't very fairly be jealous or upset that Blaine had experimented with a few boys before.  

Blaine seemed to misunderstand his silence, continuing, “I mean, I get what you're saying and I agree, we shouldn't rush things … you're special to me and I want to make this work, and our first time should mean something and all that, but why are you making such a big deal about this?  Can't we just play it by ear?”

“You're too young, Blaine. It'd be wrong.  Illegal, even.”

Blaine looked relieved and shook his head reassuringly.  “Is that whats worrying you? Its totally fine!  I'm sixteen.  That's legal! Sebastian told me when we flew back to Ohio for Warbler Weekend right after my birthday.”  Kurt heart clenched as he wondered how that topic came up, and if that meant that Sebastian had finally succeeded in seducing Blaine.  But he shook that off, and kept on the topic at hand.  

“Thats just it. You're legal in Ohio.  This is New York.  The legal age of consent is 17 here.”

“You're kidding me,” Blaine blurted, clearly shocked and disappointed.  Kurt shook his head, and Blaine looked away for a moment.

When he looked back at Kurt, the sly smile was back. “You researched this issue?  Was it for some other sixteen year old you're perving on, or because you were wondering about you and me?  It was for you and me, wasn't it! It was!” he squealed, all delighted smiles.

Kurt shoved Blaine slightly.  “Stop that.  This is serious.  Are you willing to keep the hands north of the equator until your next birthday?”

Blaine looked thoughtful. .  “Well, that leaves a lot of leeway.  For mouths and genitals, that is.  I can manage hands-free if I have to.”

“You know what I mean, wise guy.  Do you agree that we keep it G-rated?”

“Wait.  Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? For real, and official, exclusive boyfriends?” Blaine asked.  

“Yes.  Blaine, I care about you and if you feel the same way, I'd like us to be a couple.  Understanding two things.”

Blaine was nuzzling happily at Kurt's neck already, making Kurt's attempt to sound stern a bit difficult.  “Two things now?  Well whatever it is, it can't be worse than blue balls until June.  Shoot," he murmured against Kurts skin.

“The first one is we keep it clean until you're legal.  The other is - - we can't tell anybody.”

“Oh.”  Blaine stepped away from the embrace, looking completely crestfallen.   “You're -- you're ashamed of me.”

“No.  God -- no, Blaine -  - I'm so proud of you, and … and I hate that we're having this conversation right now when all I want to do is hold you and tell you how great you are and make out with you,” Kurt hastened to reassure him.  “But it's necessary.  Your sister won't approve of this. You know that, and she's under so much pressure at work, and that fight with Santana.  Not to mention Funny Girl having those financial problems and the New York opening being delayed and having to go back on the road with the show soon, and having to drop out of NYADA … and that ugly breakup with that prostitute Brody, and with … with my brother missing in Afghanistan.  God, and she's never completely recovered from losing your dads.  She can't deal with a big upheaval right now. She can't.  Shell lose what little sanity she has left."

Blaine looked concerned at that.  Kurt continued,  "We should just keep this between us until she's feeling a little stronger, or at least until after opening night of her play.”  Kurt drew a breath, and Blaine nodded thoughtfully.

“And until we know things will really work out for us, too,” Blaine added with a short sigh.  Kurt felt his heart dip a little at Blaine's statement, the way his stomach always did when coasting down a certain hill in Lima in the backseat of his dad's car.  He knew even more than ever, after tasting Blaine's lips just once, that Blaine was everything for him and always would be.   But Blaine was right, of course.  There were no guarantees, another reason why keeping it to themselves, at least at first, made sense.

“Okay, I accept your terms.  No hanky panky, and no Facebook relationship updates.  Now ask me out.  Go on. Commence wooing.”  Despite the teasing words, Blaine looked up through his long eyelashes, shy and happy and blushing.

Kurt took Blaine's hand in his formally, pressing it to his heart.  “Blaine, may I have the honor of taking you out to dinner and a movie tomorrow night?”

“Well, that's kind of short notice,” Blaine teased again, and collapsed into giggles under Kurt's tickling hands.  “Stop it!  I give.  No more teasing.”  He turned in Kurt's arms and looked deeply into his eyes now, the open, sweet face full of adoration and love and pure happiness.  “I'd love to go out with you anytime and be your boyfriend.  I'm so happy, Kurt.  You've made me the happiest guy in the world. I lo—“ Blaine flushed, and cut off abruptly, and Kurt now quirked a teasing eyebrow.  

“I'm looking forward to it so much,” Blaine finished. He stretched up and softly touched his lips to Kurt's, and the world and all the problems that might await them dissolved away.

r03;r03;r03;r03;r03;~ * ~

They made out in the elevator on the way up to the loft, pulling away reluctantly when the door pinged open.  Fingers lightly linked, they walked as slowly as possible toward the loft door.  “This is the best night of my life,” Blaine leaned over and whispered, as Kurt fumbled for the key, his fingers suddenly clumsy.  Before he could turn the key in the lock, the door was yanked open.  They quickly let go of each other's hands.  Rachel was standing in the doorway in her pink fuzzy robe and slippers, eyes narrowed.

Rachel let them past her and locked the door behind them.  She ran her eyes coolly over Blaine's skintight leather pants and loose bowtie.  “Okay then, lets get to it. What the hell are you doing out at this hour?  And what on earth are you wearing?  Is that eyeliner?”

“I was at a nightclub," Blaine admitted brazenly.

Rachel focused on Blaine a moment, then turned to Kurt, standing in front of him toe to toe and demanding, “You and your boyfriend took a sixteen-year-old to a nightclub, dressed like that?  What were you thinking?  And what's all over your shirt?  You smell like you fell in a vat of cough syrup.  What kind of club was this, anyway?”

“It - it was my regular club, I - I just spilled my drink.”

“In your hair, too?” Rachel asked, her eyebrows lifted.  She reached up and crunched a sugary lock of his hair between her fingers.  “You look like you got slushied!  But this isn't answering my question.  Why did you two decide to bring my baby brother to a bar?”

Blaine inserted his face between them.   “He didn't take me.  He happened to be there with Adam, and we ran into each other. He took me home.”

Rachel threw an apologetic look at Kurt, squeezing his arm. “Oh... Of course ... Kurt, I should have known you were more responsible than that.  Im sorry I doubted you.  But Blaine, you're underage, and you have no business going to a club.  You used a fake ID, didn't you?”

“I just used the ID to get in so I could dance. I didn't drink anything stronger than soda.  You went into clubs with fake IDs plenty,” Blaine pointed out.  

“Not alone, and not at sixteen, I didnt. Why were you sneaking out in the middle of the night?  To pick up strange men again?  Have you forgotten what Kurt and I told you about being careful?  Do you know how badly you could be hurt by someone out alone in one of those places?”

"Sebastian was with me--"

"Oh like that makes a difference. In fact, that explains a lot. Youve been hanging around with that bad influence entirely too much lately. Thats it. You cant see him anymore."

"Im not seeing Sebastian!  He's my friend!  My best friend, after Kurt! And you cant stop me from being friends with whoever I want to!"

Kurt looked uneasily between the bickering siblings.  He gnawed on a thumbnail despite his brand new manicure.

"Theres something seriously wrong with a college student like him constantly panting after a kid your age, and now hes bringing you to that meat market Kurt goes to?  No offense, Kurt."

Kurt was speechless.

Rachels ranting was gaining momentum. "I guess since youve proven once again that youre untrustworthy and falling in with a bad crowd, you need to be grounded for the foreseeable future.  At least then I wont have to worry about what youre up to or what could happen to you."

Blaine exploded. “Nothing's going to happen, Rachel!  I just went out for some fun.  Why do you always have to do this? You  get so crazy --“

“Stop it, Blaine!” Rachel shouted suddenly, her face strained.  Blaine trailed off, uncertain, and Kurt stared.

Rachel closed her eyes and put her hands on the sides of her head, breathing in slowly and blowing out.  She kept her eyes shut, and shakily continued.  “I cannot deal with this right now.  Kurt and I are doing our best raising you.”  

Kurt swallowed nervously.

“And I'm glad to do it, don't get me wrong.  But I'm under incredible pressure right now.  The entire Funny Girl production is on my shoulders – the jobs of dozens of people, my reputation in this town.  And it doesn't help that I've got Santana breathing down my neck trying to take it away from me, trying to get inside my head and make me fail, the traitor.”  

She stopped talking for a moment, looking down at her slippered feet in exhaustion.   There were suppressed tears in her voice when she continued, sounding tired and sad.  She half-sobbed, "We lost our biggest investor and everything got delayed and were in rewrites, again. Plus theres everything I have to do to make sure you're taken care of.  And missing our dads and now, not knowing for sure where Finn is or if he's hurt –or even alive -- and that's my fault –“

“Rachel, how can you think that?” Blaine rushed over to Rachel.  He put his arm around her shoulder and guided her to sit down on the couch.  She looked so tiny and frail sitting there twisting her hands.

“It's my fault because he joined the Army to get away from me.  To go where I couldn't follow.  He told me when he took me to the train station.”   Rachel scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve.  “I  can't have you acting out now on top of everything else, Blaine.  You need to do as Kurt and I say, and not take these kinds of risks.  I don't want you hurt or going down a bad path.  You're my baby brother, and right now you and Kurt are all I have left besides the show.”

“I'm so sorry.  I appreciate everything you've done for me, really, and I'll try not to worry you anymore,” Blaine assured her, pulling her into a hug.  “I love you.”

“I know, and I love you too.”  Rachel looked up and smiled through her tears at Kurt.  “Thanks again for bringing him home, Kurt.  I'm so glad I have you here to help me with Blaine.  I couldn't do this without you, and I appreciate you looking out for him, you're such a good friend.”

“Uhm.”  Kurt cleared his throat.  “Yes.  It's no big deal.”

“It is a big deal.  If you hadn't been there, some old pervert could have taken advantage of this innocent little guy,” she insisted, patting Blaine on the arm.  While her face was turned away, Blaine raised his eyebrows suggestively at Kurt with a lascivious grin.

Kurt gulped hard.  “I - - I think we should all go to bed now.  I know tomorrow's Saturday, but you've got rehearsal and it's late.”

“Youre right as always, Kurt.  We can discuss how long Blaine will be grounded for after a good night's sleep.”  

Blaine groaned, but subsided when Rachel fixed him with an evil eye.  He bent and kissed her on the cheek and headed for the bathroom.

Kurt retreated to his curtained room, breathing a sigh of relief until Rachel stuck her head in. “I hate to ask this, Kurt, but could you keep an eye on Blaine tomorrow while I'm at rehearsal? You know there's so many problems with the new producers, and I have to run through everything with Santana again.”

Kurt kicked off his shoes and shot her an irritated look. “I hardly think he needs constant supervision, Rachel.  He said he understands he has to behave.  I think that's good enough, don't you?”

“He's told us that he learned his lesson before, like that time with that Facebook Santa, remember?  I cant trust his judgment.  And unfortunately I can't get out of rehearsal to keep an eye on him.”

Kurt fidgeted with his hands.  “Well, I don't know, Rachel.”

“Oh, do you have plans with Adam? Really, I understand.  If you could just call in periodically, though, and check on him?”

He sighed. “I don't have plans with Adam.  We broke up tonight.”  

Rachel came in at that, and hugged him sympathetically. “Kurt!  I'm so sorry!  What happened?”

There was no way he could admit to Rachel, at this moment, that what happened was that Adam caught him with his tongue in the mouth of her supposedly innocent younger brother.  He cast around for something else to say, stammering finally, “It wasn't working out for a while, I guess.  There just wasn't much spark, and, I don't know.  It's over, though.”

“So … would you be able to play parole officer for our little criminal in there?”

That was the last thing Kurt wanted.  Rachel always tried to cast him in the role of her co-parent to Blaine, and now that was just … weird.  It made him feel guilty even though the secrecy was for Rachel's benefit, not his own.

Besides, he didn't want Rachel to ground Blaine, because Kurt wanted to take him out to the movies and dinner like he promised. He hedged,  “I was hoping to go out, though – there's a movie I wanted to see.”

“Can Blaine tag along with you, then?  It's more important he gets some attention and supervision right now than punishment, I think, don't you?” Rachel persisted.  “And at least then I know he'll stay out of trouble.”

Blaine's mischievous face suddenly appeared between the curtains.  “I agree!  What movie are you seeing, Kurt?”

Kurt gritted his teeth.  “The Fault in Our Stars.  Seven o'clock show.”

“Sounds great!  It's a date, then!” the incorrigible brat chirped before disappearing with a jaunty wave.  

r03;r03;r03;r03;r03;~ * ~

Kurt called out to Blaine from the little kitchen area where he was wiping the counter, “You ready, Blaine?  It's six-thirty.  We should go if we want to make this showing.  I made a dinner reservation at 9:30.”

Blaine shouted back from the bathroom, “I'm almost ready!  But you have to go out and knock.”

Hanging the dishcloth on the rack, Kurt yelled, “Quit goofing around, Blaine, c'mon!  We have to go now.”

“I want to be picked up like a gentleman for our first date!” Blaine demanded through the bathroom door. “Go out and wait a minute, and then knock!”

“Fine, you idiot,” Kurt answered, going out toward the door.  He checked himself in the mirror beside it and was pleased with what he saw.  He had chosen a silk shirt Blaine had given him for his last birthday, and his hair was looking extra tall and swoopy today. He glanced stealthily at the bathroom door and then opened a cabinet under the mirror, extracting a bouquet of roses he'd sneaked out to buy at the flower shop down the street.  He let himself out and counted to a hundred, then knocked briskly on the door.

Kurt  smiled at the sound of the bathroom door being flung open and then slammed shut, and Blaine's feet scurrying across the floor.  There was a slight pause, and then the door opened.  Blaine leaned a shoulder nonchalantly against the door jamb.  Kurt licked his lips.  Blaine looked good enough to eat.  

“Well hello,” Blaine purred at him, looking up through a veil of preposterously long lashes.  “You look amazing, Kurt.  And right on time!”  Glancing down at Kurt's hands, Blaine's face lit up all over at the sight of the red and yellow blossoms.  “Flowers!  Thanks so much, Kurt.  They're beautiful.”  Kurt handed the roses over with a flourish; and Blaine produced a bouquet of lilacs from behind his own back.  “Trade,” he giggled, and Kurt grabbed the adorable boy and pulled him close for a sweet, lingering, spine-tingling kiss over the two armfuls of flowers.

God, it felt so good not to have to fight this anymore.  

“You know, I was thinking. Maybe I shouldve been grounded,” Blaine whispered breathlessly.  “I've been a bad boy.  I think you should make me stay in tonight.  Maybe even spank me.  I've been super bad.”

“Nice try.”  Kurt gathered the two bouquets together into one huge, colorful arrangement, and pointed to a large colored-glass vase.  “Grab that and fill it, and then we are going on our first date.  And I know you're just teasing, but … honey, please remember the rules, okay?  We have to be totally proper - - like a couple in a movie in the nineteen fifties.  We're Frankie and Annette, got it?”

“Only gay. And I get to be Frankie.”

Kurt frowned. Blaine had to understand this was serious, and not a joke.

“Okay, I'll be Annette then,”  Blaine said with a teasing smile, still trying to lighten the mood. When it became clear that it wasn't working, he sighed.

“I know what you're saying,” he conceded, “and I agree to your terms that we won't … do anything. But I can't resist teasing you a little.  You're just so cute when I do.  Your ears get all red and it's so adorable.”  Kurt smiled, and Blaine's voice dropped to a reverent whisper as he handed Kurt the filled vase. “Everything about you is so adorable, so perfect.  But I'll be good.  I promise.  I can wait however long you want me to.  I already waited all my life for you.”  

Kurt bit his lip.  He nodded slightly, too moved to speak, and took the vase over to the kitchen table to put in the flowers.

Blaine slipped his arms around Kurt from behind and nibbled at his ear while Kurt deftly arranged the flowers and then paused a moment, to enjoy the feeling of Blaine's strong arms around his waist and his chin stretched over Kurt's shoulder; and to admire their joint creation.  The flowers looked beautiful together; vibrant primary colored roses nestled amongst the delicate, towering white and lavender lilacs.  A combination that should make absolutely no sense but that somehow did, and made each of the flowers stand out more beautifully against the others.  He rested his cheek back against Blaine's and they swayed together slightly, lost in the perfect, loving moment that felt so very right, no matter what the rest of their world might think.

r03;r03;r03;r03;r03;~ * ~

The Apples' rehearsal was already in progress, running through a folksy acoustic version of “We Built This City on Rock and Roll,” when Kurt hurried in, pulling out his sheet music from his bag.  He tossed the bag on a chair and joined the group, all of whom fell silent at his arrival.  “Sorry I'm late,” he said, puzzled.  He looked over at Adam, and was taken aback at his cold expression. “Really.  I was in class, and Ms. July held everyone late.  It's not my fault.”

“Sorry, Kurt.  I really thought you'd have better taste than to show up here – that it would go without saying that you're out of the group.”

“Are you – are you serious?”  Kurt realized it might be a tad awkward in Apples practice for a while after the breakup, but he hadn't thought he would be excommunicated because of a breakup, even with the Adam in “Adam's Apples.”  Even back in high school, the New Directions had taken every one of their multiple permutations of hookups and cheating and reshuffling of partners totally in stride.  Nobody ever had to leave because of a relationship hitting the rocks.

“Quite serious.  If you don't mind, I'd rather not get into this on Apple time?  All of us have busy schedules, after all.”  Adam reached out and plucked the sheet music from Kurt's hand.

“Actually, I do mind,” Kurt snapped. “I'd appreciate an explanation of why I'm being kicked out of a group you begged me to join in the first place, just because we're not dating anymore.  Was it my voice you wanted for the group, or was that just a line?”

“You're making a scene.”

“You're being totally immature.”

“I thought that was what you were into,” Adam countered, and Kurt drew back, flickering a glance around at the other Apples.  They looked puzzled and uncomfortable.  He looked back at Adam, who raised his eyebrows.  “If you don't want me to get more specific, I'd suggest you leave now without further fuss and muss.”

Furious, Kurt grabbed his bag and barreled toward the door, running full tilt into Rachel on the other side and scattering her books from her arms.  “Kurt!  Where are you going in such a hurry?  Isn't today Apples practice?” she asked as he bent to gather her books and hand them back to her.

The door swung open again behind them, and Adam appeared holding a bedazzled iPhone case out toward him.  “You dropped your phone, Kurt. Here, take it with you.  I've got to get back to practice.”

“Hold on.  Why aren't you in practice, Kurt?” Rachel asked, and Adam looked silently at Kurt, his eyebrows practically on his scalp.

Rachel rolled her eyes.  “Oh, are you kidding me?  You're kicking Kurt out because he broke up with you?  What are you, a high school student or an adult?”

As Kurt felt his face warming, and stood dreading what Adam might do out of spite, Adam just tilted his head and asked her, “You're okay with what happened, then?”

“Whatever makes my best friend happy, I'm happy with.  And you have no right to take it out on Kurt that way.  He's the best singer in your pathetic group, and he's too good to be just a nameless Apple backing you up.  You should be ashamed!”

“I see.  Well, I guess I'm just too broken hearted to see it that way,” Adam said calmly.  “If you'd excuse us a minute, there's a private matter I'd like to discuss with Kurt.”

“Please, Rachel,” Kurt begged.  She flounced away with a shrug, and Kurt turned back to Adam.

“Thanks for not saying anything about Blaine.”

“I can't believe you haven't told her.  She's Blaine's guardian, Kurt.  Don't you think she should know about you and him? I mean, you're practically raising him with her.  It's sick.”

“Im not raising him. And I already told you.  I'm not having sex with him.  It's all totally innocent and G rated.”

“Sure it is. If that were true, there'd be no reason not to tell her.  And it sure didn't look innocent on that dance floor.”

“I'm not telling her because she's under too much pressure.  She's on the verge of a breakdown.  You saw how crazed and overprotective she was of me just now, and I'm not even her kid brother. I'm just - - trying to protect her. And its not actually that big an age difference.There are as many years between you and me as there are between me and Blaine. Theres nothing wrong with our relationship."

“Whatever. One piece of advice for old times' sake, though, Kurt.  If you're working that hard to keep something you're doing secret - - maybe you shouldn't be doing it.  Youve destroyed our relationship and friendship, and it's plain you don't care about that.”  At Kurt's weak protest, Adam held up a hand to silence him and continue.  “But you're risking your friendship with Rachel, and Blaine's relationship with his sister, his only family.  Think about whether a little slap and tickle with a hot young kid is really worth all that.  I won't say anything - but you really need to.”

Adam shook his head in disgusted and returned to Apples practice before Kurt could recover enough to answer.