Two

Kurt pulled back, and Blaine opened his eyes. Kurt was standing in front of him, hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes. The hand Blaine had on Kurt's waist tightened.

“Oh, god,” Kurt said. “I'm sorry—I shouldn't—I need to go,” Kurt started to pull away, making a dash for his bag. Right before he made it to the door, Blaine's hand locked around his wrist.

“Kurt, wait,” Blaine said, and Kurt turned to look at him, tears streaming down his cheeks, and a terrified look in his eyes.

“No,” Kurt argued, “I need to go. I just—”

“Stop. I know you're scared, but things are going to be worse if you leave right now. Just talk to me,” Blaine pleaded. Kurt looked at him for a while, and Blaine's heart was beating in his chest. The boy—the straight boy—that he had been practically pining over for weeks had just kissed him, and was obviously having some sort of sexuality crisis.

Kurt finally nodded, visibly relaxing and allowing Blaine to guide him over to the bed. Propping his guitar against a wall, Blaine joined him on the mattress. They sat across from each other, cross legged and oddly formal for sitting on a plaid comforter. Kurt was looking down at his lap, avoiding Blaine's eyes as though he were Medusa.

“Do you want to start by... telling me what was going on in your head?” Blaine tried. Kurt let out a long breath, looking up and meeting Blaine's eyes for just a moment before they flickered away.

“Can you keep a secret?” Kurt asked, looking Blaine in the eye once more. His gaze was hard, cold as ice, searching Blaine's for any sign of doubt or mistrust.

“Of course,” Blaine replied sincerely.

“If I tell you this, you can not tell anyone. Not your family, not your dog, you can't even write it down in a diary. It goes in your ears, and never, ever comes out. Do you understand?” His voice was surprisingly unwavering.

Blaine had a good idea about what Kurt was about to tell him, but he didn't want to make any assumptions. He pressed his lips together, watching for just a moment. As the small amount of time passed, Blaine saw nervousness and fear flicker in Kurt's eyes, and he noticed the way his bottom lip moved into his mouth just enough for his teeth to bite the inside.

“I won't say a word.”

Kurt relaxed, dropping his face into his hands and rubbing at his temples. He moved his hands to his mouth, and much to Blaine's surprise, he started laughing.

“I'm gay,” he said, arms spread out wide. He laughed some more. “I'm gay and I'm dating a cheerleader!” A female cheerleader!” Kurt fell back onto the bed, head landing on Blaine's pillow and hands covering his face. He laughed for another minute while Blaine sat there in shock, before his laughter turned into sniffles and hiccups. Kurt began crying in earnest, sobs wracking his entire frame.

Blaine moved up on the bed to sit at Kurt's side.

“Kurt—”

“I'm gay and I'm dating a blond, female cheerleader because I'm a coward. I'm scared. I'm terrified of coming out because the bullying is bad enough already, and I don't know how my dad will take it, so I hide behind this girl to keep it from everyone!”

Blaine sat in silence for a minute while Kurt continued to cry, contemplating what he should do. Eventually he laid down next to him, and one touch to Kurt's shoulder had the sobbing boy turning over and burying his face in Blaine chest, fists curling into the material covering Blaine shoulders. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's back, rubbing it soothingly.

“Shh, you're okay,” Blaine hushed.

“I'm s-s-sorry,” Kurt sobbed.

“Don't be, Kurt. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

They stayed like that for another half hour or so, and when Kurt finally quieted, he tilted his chin up, resting it on Blaine's chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine covered it with his hand.

“Don't even think about apologizing,” he said. Blaine felt Kurt's lips turn up underneath his palm. Kurt gently pulled his hand away from his mouth, resting it against the comforter. He went to pull his fingers from Blaine's, but Blaine held on, keeping them intertwined.

“Thank you, then,” Kurt said with a watery smile. Blaine smiled back.

“I know this is really scary, so I want you to call me if you ever need to talk, okay? Hell, show up at my front door if you want, the point is I'm here,” he said, arms locked around Kurt's waist.

“Okay,” Kurt replied.

Their eyes stayed connected for a long time. Kurt's gaze flicked down to Blaine's lips and back again, licking his own unconsciously. Blaine mimicked him, their eyes still locked. The tension grew, Blaine's fingers skimming the strip of skin where Kurt's shirt was rucked up.

“I really want to kiss you again,” Kurt said.

“Then do it.”

“But—”

“Brittany,” they said together.

“She won't mind,” Kurt said hurriedly.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. She and Santana have... relations.” Blaine's eyes widened.

“Wait, really?” he asked.

“Yes. Now shut up and kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

Their lips crashed together. Kurt pulled his knees up so that he was straddling Blaine's hips, fingers burying in his curls. Blaine pushed his tongue into Kurt's mouth and ran it along his palate and behind his teeth. His fingers hooked into the belt loops on Kurt's pants.

Kurt's mouth moved down Blaine's neck, biting and sucking all the way to his collarbone. Blaine, breathing heavily, ran his hands down over Kurt's ass and to his thighs, squeezing there and pulling him closer.

Kurt moaned against his skin, and Blaine's hips snapped up on their own accord. He felt their erections grind together through their jeans, and he gasped.

The sucking on his neck suddenly stopped, and when Blaine opened his eyes, he was met with Kurt's wide, shocked ones.

“Shit, Kurt I'm sorry—”

“No, don't be,” Kurt panted.”I-I want to, but...”

“It's too soon,” Blaine finished for him, and Kurt nodded.

Kurt climbed off of him, sitting on the edge of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, and Blaine admired the way he looked, skin flushed, hair and clothes rumpled.

“I-I should really go.”

“Okay.”

So Blaine walked him to the door, past his sister who was watching cartoons, and kissed him on the cheek before he walked out the door.

---

When Kurt was a safe distance away from Blaine's house, he pulled out his phone and dialed Brittany's number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Britt. Are you home right now?”

“Yeah. I'm teaching Lord Tubbington how to run his own bath.”

“I'm coming over, alright? I really need to talk to you.”

“Okay. “

When Kurt arrived at her house, he let let himself in, as he had been for the last year. He walked up the steps to where he knew Brittany's room was, and heard her voice coming from her en-suite bathroom.

“No, Lord Tubbington. If you turn it that hot, you'll hurt yourself.”

“Britt? Would you stop trying to wash the cat and come in here please?” Kurt asked, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

Brittany spun around, her golden hair flowing, and a bright smile adorning her features. She really was a beautiful girl. Too bad Kurt wasn't actually interested.

“Hi, Kurtie!” She stood up, flounced over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pecking him on the lips. Kurt took her hand and guided her over to the bed. They sat down and Kurt looked at her.

“Britt, you know how you do your... thing with Santana?” he started.

“You mean have sex?”

“Y-yeah,” Kurt said. “And you know that I'm totally supportive of it and I don't tell anyone?” Brittany nodded, and Kurt took a deep breath. “Well, I think I'm getting into the same sort of situation with a friend of mine.” Brittany smiled widely.

“Is it Blaine? I always thought you two would be cute together!”

“W-what?” Kurt asked, shocked.

“Well, you're both dolphins,” Brittany said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Brittany,” Kurt was almost at a loss for words. “How did you... how did you know?”

“Why else would you be so okay with me and Santana?” the blond girl asked, seeming genuinely perplexed. Kurt didn't have an answer for that.

“Britt, just—you can't tell anyone, alright?”

“Of course I won't,” she said sincerely. Then she gave him a sultry look. “But you know, we can still make out whenever you want to.”

---

Blaine spent the majority of his Saturday pacing his room, practically wearing a hole in his carpet. He didn't know what to make of the night before. What did this mean for him? What did it mean to Kurt? Were they going to do what Brittany and Santana supposedly did? Would Blaine be able to handle being with someone who wasn't out?

Blaine's first instinct was to call Cooper, but what would he say? Blaine had promised Kurt that he wouldn't tell anyone.

It wasn't until around three o'clock that Blaine heard a knock on his door.

“Come in!” he called, now sitting in his desk chair and staring at the wall.

“Darling, Iago looks miserable,” his mother's voice sounded from the doorway. “Have either of you actually left this room today?”

“No, I guess not,” Blaine looked at his dog, who was lying on the bed, looking at him with sad eyes. “I'll go let him out right now.”

Blaine stood up and made to move towards the door, but his mom's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up at her. Her hair was down, curls framing her heart-shaped face, and her green eyes were filled with concern.

“Are you alright, Blaine?”

“I'm fine.”

“Blaine,” his mother said, obviously not believing him.

“Really, Mom. Everything's fine. You don't have anything to worry about.”

“Last time you locked yourself away in your room like this you got sent to the ER that weekend after that dance,” she replied bluntly. “Excuse me for being concerned.”

Blaine sighed, sitting down on his bed and putting his head in his hands. He felt the mattress dip next to him.

“Look, Blaine,” his mother started. “I know this move has been hard on you, having to leave Dalton and all, but it would kill me if you got hurt again. If something's going on, you have to tell us so we can do something about it.”

“No, it's not like that,” Blaine said. He sat up straight and rested his hands on his knees. “Yeah, I'm getting picked on a little, but that started after I joined Glee. There isn't really any physical bullying besides the slushies, mostly just rude comments and gestures.”

“Slushies?”

“Some of the jocks like to get large cups of slushy and throw it in our faces,” Blaine explained with a shrug.

“And they don't get in trouble for it?” Blaine's mom asked angrily.

“No. The administration won't do anything.”

“Well you can sure as hell bet that I will.” She stood up.

“Mom, you don't—”

“Blaine, this isn't just about you. I'm not going to sit idle by while my son and his friends are getting ice thrown in their faces!”

“Mom, as much as I appreciate it, if you say anything, it's just going to get worse.”

“No, Blaine. Don't fight me on this.”

Blaine looked down at his lap. He heard his mother sigh, and then she was kneeling down in front of him, trying to catch his eye.

“Honey, why wouldn't you want us to try and stop it?”

“Because I don't want to hide behind you and Dad for the rest of my life!” Blaine blurted. “I'm tired of running away and having people suck up to me because of Dad's status! I want to be able to apply for college and get in based off of my efforts and my achievements rather than my father's!”

There was silence for a moment. Blaine closed his eyes, caught between feeling relieved about getting that off his chest, and ashamed for sounding ungrateful. His parents loved him, and they worked hard and put up with people they don't necessarily like so that they can live the way they do.

Blaine felt his mother's hand on his cheek, tears welled up behind his eyelids, and he did all he could to keep them at bay.

“Okay,” his mother said softly. When he was sure the tears wouldn't spill over, he opened his eyes. “I won't try to scare them into fixing this, but I'm still going to say something. Like I said, this isn't just about you, it's about all of those other kids, alright?”

“Okay.”

She stood up, and opened her arms. “Come here,” she said. Blaine stood up and wrapped his arms around his mom's middle, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her. Her arms were around him, one reaching up to pet his hair. “I know we're not around a lot, but you know that we're always here to talk, right? If you need help, we're here for you.”

Blaine almost started crying again, because that was the same thing he'd offered to Kurt, and sometimes he just needed someone to do the same for him.

---

School the next week was a little awkward. Kurt and Blaine would share secret little smiles during chemistry, and then at lunch Brittany would practically sit in Kurt's lap. During Glee Blaine was paired with Quinn for the choreography. Kurt and Blaine had done well when they performed their duet, but they didn't win. The prize had gone to Quinn and Sam.

On Wednesday, Kurt came over to Blaine's house again while his parents were at work under the pretense of not understanding their homework, though they spent most of their time kissing on Blaine's bed.

“I have been waiting all week to get my hands on you again,” Kurt said, low in Blaine's ear. His hands ran down Blaine's sides and he began sucking on Blaine's jaw.

“Yeah?” Blaine breathed, squeezing Kurt's ass in his hands.

“You have no idea,” Kurt rasped.

Blaine pulled Kurt's lips back to his, kissing him deeply. He grasped Kurt's hips again, guiding them down to his own. They rubbed together in a delicious friction that had them panting into each others mouths. Blaine could feel the hot press of Kurt's cock against his own, and a slow heat started swelling low in his belly.

“B-Blaine,” Kurt gasped out. “I—I can't come in my pants.”

“Then take them off,” Blaine growled.

Kurt sat up so quickly that at first Blaine thought he'd said something very, very wrong, but instead Kurt was ripping the button of his jeans open and tearing down the zipper. Blaine swore, reaching down to his own pants and pulling them down his legs with haste.

Their bodies pressed together again, the feeling of skin-on-skin contact pulling moans from their throats. It was a little awkward with their shirts still on and their pants still trapped around their shins and ankles, but when Blaine felt Kurt's long hand wrap around both of their cocks, he decided he wouldn't have it any other way.

Blaine felt a bead of sweat trail down from his hairline as he bucked furiously into Kurt's hand. Things were pulling taut in his insides, driving him crazy as he gripped Kurt's bare ass in his hands. Blaine was definitely an ass man, and Kurt's was perfect, fitting into his palms in just the right way.

“B-Blaine, I—” Kurt stuttered, pumping his hand faster. Blaine slid one of his fingers over Kurt's ass crack, pressing just into the top of it, and suddenly Kurt's hand stopped moving, only to start moving even faster than before as he groaned in the back of his throat and came.

“Shit,” Blaine gasped, hips snapping up one last time as the tension in his lower abdomen snapped, orgasm wracking through him, and his come spilling out over Kurt's hand and both of their cocks.

Kurt fell bodily onto Blaine's chest, face pressing into his neck and panting heavily. Blaine moved one hand to rest on Kurt's hip, the other running up his smooth back, petting him distractedly while he waited for the room to stop spinning.

“That was amazing,” Kurt sighed, pressing a kiss against Blaine's throat.

“Mm,” Blaine agreed, feeling sated and happy and a little hungry the way he usually did after an orgasm.

Kurt rolled over and sat up, pulling a few tissues from the box next to Blaine's bed, and started to clean himself up. Blaine sat up as well and reached across Kurt to get to the tissues, maybe leaning a little bit closer than strictly necessary.

---

The next day during Glee, Kurt was standing at the front of the choir room with some of the other members, going over their set of the dance moves, and Blaine was having a difficult time keeping his eyes off of Kurt's ass as his hips swayed in front of him.

“He's got a great butt, doesn't he?” Brittany whispered, suddenly appearing in the chair next to his.

“S-sure,” Blaine said awkwardly. Not really knowing how to respond. He didn't know if Kurt had told her about them, and if so, how much.

“He's a really good kisser, too. And his hands are so soft. He's like a baby.”

“Brittany! How do you feel about being carried on Mikes shoulders?” Mr. Schuester called to her, saving Blaine from responding.

“As long as he doesn't drop me the way the stork did,” she replied, standing up and joining the other dancing Glee members.

When Kurt and Blaine were on the phone later that night, Blaine brought his strange conversation with Kurt's girlfriend up.

“I wouldn't be surprised if she tried to talk to me about what sex was like with you,” Blaine grumbled and Kurt's muffled laughter came through the line.

“I'll talk to her about it,” Kurt said, chuckles finally ceasing. “If that gets out of hand, she might blow our cover.”

There was silence for a moment, an unidentifiable tension stirring in Blaine's chest.

“Blaine?” Kurt asked quietly.

“Yeah, I'm here,” Blaine answered, not offering any more than that.

“Are yo okay? Did I say something wrong?” Kurt asked worriedly. Blaine could practically hear him chewing on his bottom lip through the phone.

Blaine had picked up on a lit of Kurt's quirks over the past few weeks. He noticed the way Kurt bit his bottom lip when he was nervous, twirled his pencil between his finger like a baton when he was bored, or how he had a notebook dedicated to scribbling out possible Scrabble words when he played on his phone. But the most important might be the way when they were alone, Kurt's voice rose a little higher, sounding less forced, more natural. But as soon as someone else was around, it dropped right back down again.

“No. Not really,” Blaine said. “I just don't know... what are we Kurt?”

The question hung in the air like a thick fog. Blaine didn't realize he'd stopped breathing until the ache in his lungs was too much to ignore.

“I don't know,” Kurt said. “I want... I mean, I wish...I...” Kurt sounded so stressed, like if he didn't say the right thing, everything would blow up in his face.

“Shh, Kurt,” Blaine tried to soothe him. “I'm sorry I brought it up.”

“No, don't be, this conversation is long overdue,” Kurt said, laughing awkwardly. “I just don't know what to say.”

“Well, what do you want?” Blaine asked.

“What do I want?” Kurt asked a little incredulously. “What I really, really want is to be your boyfriend,” he said, voice thickening. “I want to be able to hold your hand in the halls and kiss you whenever I want, but I'm not ready to come out yet, Blaine. I-I'm just not.”

Panicking a little, Blaine tried to calm him down before he burst into hysterics.

“Shh, Kurt, it's okay. I'm not expecting you to jump on a table in the middle of the cafeteria and wave a giant rainbow flag. I understand that you're not ready, I'm okay with that. I just want to know what this means to you.” Blaine heard Kurt take a deep breath.

“It's kind of starting to mean everything to me,” Kurt said, a hint of sad laughter in his voice.

“Yeah?” Blaine asked, his chest twisting in a different, more pleasant way this time.

“Yeah,” Kurt said, the last of his quiet sniffles echoing through the phone.

“Good. Because it's starting to mean everything to me, too.”