Sugar Baby

Nineteen

"The appointment went well today," Kurt said as Blaine sat at the side of his bed, watching him through the bathroom door, wearing his plaid pyjama pants, bare-chested with a towel draped around his shoulders as he stood at the sink, moisturising and sparing a soft glance to Blaine, watching him with his chin pillowed on his hand, heart beating a little faster and cheeks warming as he gazed on him. "I decided not to ask her whether we're having a boy or a girl, but everything's fine. We're going to have a healthy baby."

He placed his bottles down and hung up the towel around his neck, pulling on a scarlet shirt and sliding into bed, rolling his eyes as Blaine tugged the duvet gently up over his shoulders, but not before bending down to press a kiss to where his belly button pressed against his shirt. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there, but sometimes work has to come before you," Blaine said, the unsaid words of I always wish I could put you first dancing on his tongue, aching to be said.

Kurt beckoned him in close and tilted his head up for a kiss, hands wrapping loosely around the back of Blaine's neck, and as their lips moved together, Blaine felt warmth spreading out from his heart, tingling in his fingers and toes, making his eyes wet and the tips of his ears red as he drew Kurt in closer, a feeling like a fist squeezing his heart arcing through him, almost like lightning. He could almost hear the wind whistling past his ears, like he'd stepped off the edge of a cliff and was falling hard and fast and with no time to stop.

He was falling in love with Kurt. He turned the idea over and over in his mind as he sat, fingers stroking abstractly over the raised, pale blue veins on Kurt's wrist, watching him slowly fall asleep. Kurt lay there, breathing evening out as his eyes slid closed and his fingers loosened around Blaine's arm, while Blaine gazed openly at him, falling more in love with every passing second.

Blaine watched Kurt sleeping for a moment longer, his belly swelling upwards against the blankets bunched over his chest, a slight smile playing around the corners of his mouth. Kurt rolled onto his side, stopped from rolling onto his front and possibly hurting the baby by the pillow Blaine had placed between his hip and the mattress, his lips curved into the sweetest smile and his eyelids fluttering delicately, slightly, as he murmured, "Mmm, Blaine. Oh, honey, I love...mmm."

The slam of the door echoed through the house as Blaine almost leapt out of the room, heart beating too fast and breathing rapid. Hearing Kurt, even so deeply asleep, murmuring those words, laying everything the line, baring his heart and giving Blaine the power to break it, it scared him. He was frightened in a way he'd never been before, and the cause was a seventeen year old carrying his child, their child, to be born in twenty-one weeks, and he was falling so far and so fast, and he didn't know what to do because he'd never felt this way before.

"Evening, Blaine," Sebastian said smugly, sauntering past with his hips swaying and the well-muscled curves and angles of his body outlined in perfect definition by the tightness of his clothes. Blaine followed him with his eyes, barely seeing what had once made him want to fall to his knees in absolute surrender, too frightened of the future to think of the present. "What's the matter with that handsome face? Your porcelain doll not putting out?"

Before he could have second thoughts, before his heart and his mind could catch up to the pure animal instinct keeping him safe, stopping him from giving in and risking everything, holding him back from the edge of the cliff when his heart called out to do nothing but step over the edge and fall, damn the risks, Blaine grabbed Sebastian's shoulders, drawing their bodies together, sweat and musky scent and lust reflected in dark-swollen pupils. "Make me forget about him," he whispered, and it was so much more than five simple words, a plea to a power so much higher than a smirking man steering them towards Blaine's bedroom, a cry for help as he drowned, but Sebastian didn't know, no one knew, they saw nothing of what lurked beneath the surface. Only Kurt ever saw him, the scared little boy he suddenly cared too much about, and Blaine saw his reflection in Kurt's eyes and knew he was the same beneath the carefully crafted mask. Afraid and small and no more than a child.

The bed creaked beneath them as Sebastian backed Blaine up until the backs of his knees hit the bedframe and he tumbled down, Sebastian looming over him for a moment before dropping down onto him, kissing him hard, aggressive, all animalistic passion and expert lips, nothing like soft, sweet, gentle kisses, learning how to bring flushes to skin and a fast pace to a heartbeat. Kurt's face danced behind his eyes as Blaine pushed him off, begging, "Don't, don't kiss me, just fuck me."

Clothes were shoved aside and kicked off the bed, lying crumpled and entwined on the carpet as Sebastian rolled Blaine onto his stomach, biting at the meat of his shoulder. Blaine saw nothing but Kurt, shining and smiling and arms open for him, waiting for him to just fall into him and never let go, as two familiar slick fingers slid into him, accompanied by a flare of relief washed away by the dull ache of doing something he shouldn't, of missing Kurt and of terror of the future and his present.

He couldn't remember much of the moment he once would've catalogued among the best sex he'd ever had, just the strong body above him, increasingly hard thrusts, and relief washing over him for only a moment before guilt flooded hot and needling over him, and he bit the pillow in order not to cry.

Sleep didn't fall upon him until the early hours of the morning, as the coming of the dawn striped the walls in watery grey, and he fell asleep with Sebastian's hand possessively gripping his thigh and his breath hot and stale against his neck, wishing momentarily for slender arms and sweet breath and a bump pressed against the small of his back.

Kurt couldn't understand why everyone around him was exchanging knowing looks when he made his slow way down to the kitchen for tea when he awoke around midday. Quinn and Jeff both looked sympathetic and Puck was scowling and muttering darkly to himself every time Kurt passed him. With the absence of Sebastian, for once, luckily, and Blaine still asleep, Kurt decided to do something sweet for Blaine. To warm him up before telling him he loved him.

He didn't understand the looks he received when he loaded up a tray with Blaine's black coffee and some waffles, carefully steering past several people, balancing the tray on one hand to help himself up the stairs with the other. He knocked lightly on Blaine's door, but got no answer, so opened the door anyway, adjusting the positioning of the plates and mug on the prettily floral-patterned tray. "Honey, I made you breakfast, do you want your-"

The clattering echoed around the room as the tray hit the floor, coffee spilling all over the carpet, seeping into the fibres, a permanent reminder of the moment when Kurt felt pain rip through his chest as his heart broke in two. The springs of the bed creaked, a familiar noise that had once been a part of so many memories of blinding ecstasy, as the entwined, naked bodies rolled over and sat up, one staring at Kurt with surprise and horror in his eyes, the other with a smug smirk on his lips.

"Three years ago, when Sebastian first got signed with the label, he had slept with Blaine within the first week, and everyone knew about it. They would do things every night, and loudly."

Kurt stormed away, tears in his eyes, pulling the thick fabric of his robe closer around him, feeling where it parted heavily around the swell of his belly, desolation settling cold and leaden in his heart, images of Blaine and Sebastian, entwined as enchantingly as Cupid and Psyche on the tangled silken sheets, dancing before his eyes, Blaine with someone who was thin and muscled and all man, someone who could give him the hard fucking he craved and move with him, not held back by a bump protruding obviously out in front of him.

"Since then Blaine's stayed far away from him, and hook-ups in general. Until he met you. Just, do me a favour, honey: please don't give up your heart to him."

Gasping sobs were escaping him by the time he got back to his room, his arms wrapped protectively over his belly and tears rolling down his wax-pale cheeks as he locked the door firmly behind him and collapsed onto his bed with a creak of the springs, shivering like a whippet with horror and devastation and loneliness.

"He's not someone a boy like you wants to fall in love with."

"Kurt, let me in," Blaine ordered from beyond the door. "Please don't lock yourself away, let me in." His tone dipped into a lower register that normally sent delicious sparks of anticipation down Kurt's spine, but now made him sick to his stomach, imagining him whispering to Sebastian like that, as he said, "Kurt, please, I need to see you, I have to explain."

Kurt carefully eased himself up off the bed, pressing a hand low on his aching back, and crossed the room to ease the door slightly open, hating the crack in his voice as he whispered, "Go away."

"Kurt, baby, please, just let me explain-"

"I'm not your baby!" Kurt screamed. "This thing making me fat and blotchy and so obviously unattractive to you is your baby, who you obviously don't give a crap about to run off and sleep with that slimeball! Why did you do it, Blaine? Don't you understand that we're going to have a son in five months? I need you!"

"Since when do you know it's a boy?" Blaine asked, his eyes drifting down to where Kurt's belly strained against the scarlet cotton of his shirt.

"Since my last ultrasound, which you were too busy 'recording with Jeff and Puck' to come to with me," Kurt snapped, curving a hand protectively over his bump. "How long have you been sleeping with him? Is that where you go when you tell me you're working? To let him fuck you in that bed where we sleep and we have sex?"

"Kurt, listen to me, I need to explain, just-"

"Get out, leave me alone," Kurt spat, voice high with mingled anger and the effort of holding back tears. "Go back to Sebastian and let me do this by myself. You've made it very clear exactly what you think of me and how much you care about our baby. You don't want to be tied down with a family, so just leave me alone."

Kurt hoped, just for a moment, that it would be just like the movies. Blaine would refuse to leave, the background music would swell triumphantly as he crossed the room, standing tall with authority, and swept Kurt into his arms, kissing him sweetly, tenderly, full of love and devotion and the Broadway romance he'd been dreaming of for so long, kissing him breathless and flushed and starry-eyed, breaking away only to whisper promises of forever and always and endless love against his cheek before drawing him back in like the beach curving seductively around the ocean.

But he didn't. The sound of the bottom of the door dragging over the carpet, the click of it finally closing and the stiff creak of the bedsprings as Kurt sat heavily down on the edge of the mattress were all sad sounds of finality. There would be no swell of emotion. No kiss in the rain. No heavy breathing and grabbing hands and legs wrapped tightly around waists.

There would be Blaine, going back to Sebastian, back to a seductive body and talented hands and lips and tongue and someone to give and take everything Blaine wanted. And there would be him, seventeen and pregnant, a freak, a stupid child who fell in love too easily, who gave his heart away and had no one but himself to blame but himself when he had to watch it smashed on the rocks below, when he fell too far and too fast to stop anymore.

A soft knock came at the door, and Kurt hated how shaky and stricken and thick with tears his voice was when he called out, "It's open, come in," a sob slicing into the tail end of his sentence, the tears flowing faster than he could mop them up with the edge of the blanket, dripping down his cheeks and staining his skin, tiny scars of his grief and heartbreak and loss.

Quinn's face fell as she crept inside, her eyes heavy with emotion, shining with a slight sheen of tears as she hurried across the room and sat down next to him, rubbing his thigh gently. "Honey, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I know what he meant to you, and I'm sure he didn't mean it, you know how Sebastian can be, he's been after Blaine for years now, I'm sure it didn't mean a thing-"

"Why wouldn't it mean a thing?" Kurt sobbed, looking at her with devastated eyes and the ghost of his broken heart clear on his face. "They were lovers for months, longer than me and him, they mean so much to each other, they're so much better together, there's no strings attached, he doesn't have to worry about Sebastian being stupid and falling in love with him and wanting to tell him and finding him in bed with someone else." Quinn was gazing sadly at him, wiping at his eyes with the corner of her sleeve, as he leant against her and murmured, "I thought he cared about me. I really did think he was in love with me."

"We all think that about men at some point, honey," Quinn said gently. "You just have to tell the ones who really do care from the ones who want sex." Kurt dissolved into tears and Quinn pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him and rocking him gently against the delicate warmth of her body, slow and soft and shushing him, the way he would hold his own baby in just a few months, without Blaine by his side, with Blaine entwined with someone else instead of kissing his cheek and whispering that he was proud and he loved him.

"You'll only end up hurt."