Chapter 5

Hold me tight and kiss me slow

(My head gets so confused)

.

Part one

Coming out is the most liberating thing you have ever experienced. You're still only out to a small group of people, as you and your parents agree to take things one step at a time, but even though the world at large still sees you as "Amber" and probably assumes that you're a lesbian from the way you present yourself, it's a wonderful feeling finally being able to be honest with those closest to you, and the reactions you get are as different as the people you tell. Your parents, of course, are shocked and confused but ultimately accepting and willing to get you the help you need. Your brother makes the whole thing seem entirely insignificant, and if it isn't for the fact that he immediately starts calling you "Blaine" and "bro", you might suspect him of misunderstanding everything. As it is, you quickly realize that it's simply Cooper's way of saying that he just doesn't care what you are, as long as you're who you are. Sara, your best friend, reacts by throwing her arms around your neck and declaring that she will always love you, no matter what. Yes, it's a wonderful feeling, and you suspect it's probably the happiest you have been for a long time.

Which is why it's so confusing that you're also unhappier than you have ever been.

Since you were twelve years old, simply surviving and functioning like a normal person has become a skill that you had to learn and maintain. You developed coping mechanisms to help you deal with the feelings inside you – or maybe rather to help you not deal, because what you really did was ignore your issues, pushing them aside and choosing instead to devote all your time and energy to other things. Anything so you didn't have to think about the fact that someone somewhere – God or nature or whatever – screwed up big time. You buried yourself in school work, making you the top student in each of your classes and earning you the "teacher's pet" nickname for your trouble. You took to spending hour after hour in front the piano in your living room at home, perfecting your skill and your voice, taking on increasingly difficult pieces and winning the school talent show two years in a row. You learned how to detach yourself from your developing body, so the pain when you accidentally caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror was less of a sharp stab to your core and more of a dull ache that was easy enough to ignore after a while.

It's different now though. Coming out makes everything real in a way it never was before. Before you could always hope that maybe – just maybe – this wasn't permanent, and you could still grow up to be normal and right. Deep down you knew it not to be true, but somehow you found comfort in the idea, so you clung to the hope with everything you had. Having said it out loud to another person now means admitting that this is never going to go away. That this is who you are. What you are.

And it means no longer being able to spend every day ignoring the issue, because now that you're out, you're expected to talk about it. You have started seeing a therapist who asks you to explain to her everything you're feeling and have ever felt, and every minute that you spend with your parents, you're confronted with the issue because, now that they know, they have a million questions and you also have to discuss what your options are as far as social and medical transition. They are trying to get the name and the pronouns right, but it's hard for them and they keep slipping up, and it's almost worse than when they were just calling you Amber because they didn't know any better. You can feel the issue hanging in the air at all times, constantly demanding attention and gnawing at you, even when you're not talking or when you're talking about something else entirely. It's just so there all the time, and sometimes it's all so overwhelming that you wish you never said anything.

The worst part is that it's getting harder and harder to detach yourself from the body you hate. Showers, getting undressed, and even peeing – it all gets more and more difficult, until one morning you step out of the shower, dry yourself off as usual and proceed down the hall to your bedroom, towel wrapped around you. There is a mirror in the door of your wardrobe and, when you reach out to open it, the towel slips and crumbles to the floor, leaving you naked and staring into a full body mirror. A month ago you would have just thought "huh" and gone about your business, but today the image paralyzes you to the point where all you can do is stand there, taking in every last detail that bothers you.

Your entire frame is too short. Your hips are too wide. Your waist is too tiny. Your thighs are too big. Your face is too round. Your feet are too small. Your lips are too plump. Your chest is too... there. And the less time spent on your genitals the better.

You have read and heard a lot of guys' stories, and the one advice they all give when it comes to transition – both social and medical – is patience. Changes don't happen overnight. You know this. And seeing their "before and after" videos does give you a lot of hope, but right now, as the minutes tick by and you keep staring at yourself – everything about what you see so wrong – it just seems hopeless.

'God, I love your mouth,' Kurt mumbled as Blaine detached his lips from Kurt's and began trailing kisses up and down his neck.

'Mm... I love your everything,' Blaine said between kisses, too distracted by the way Kurt shivered beneath his touch to come up with a more eloquent reply.

It was Friday, the day before Sectionals. They had gone to Blaine's after school and, having found themselves confronted with an empty house – Blaine's mother working as usual, his father once again out of town and Cooper back in LA – the weekend had been less than an hour old before they gave in to each other. Innocent pecks had quickly given way to deep and passionate kisses and, before they had known it, they were lying on Blaine's bed pressed close together on their sides, their breathing heavy.

Blaine had one hand tangled in Kurt's hair, while he trailed Kurt's arm with the other, keeping his touch feather-light and caressing the soft skin tenderly. He pulled his head back a little, enough so he could look properly at Kurt. When their eyes met, Kurt smiled sweetly and lifted a hand to touch the side of Blaine's face, almost as though he wanted to make sure that Blaine was real.

'You're so beautiful,' Kurt said, his words so matter-of-fact and honest that it made Blaine's breathing hitch. They lay like that for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's closeness, before Kurt shifted closer still, kissing Blaine again and tangling their legs together. Blaine happily reciprocated and the strange fluttering sensation low in his stomach intensified minute by minute (or was it second by second? Hour by hour? Kissing Kurt had a way of making time lose its meaning). When they pulled apart for air, Blaine had a sudden devilish grin on his face and, as he let passion take over, he pushed Kurt onto his back and crawled on top of him, straddling his thighs.

'What are you doing?' Kurt asked, clearly taken aback by this turn of events. Friday nights – or any nights – didn't usually see Blaine straddling Kurt and eyeing his body hungrily.

'Taking steps,' Blaine replied, his voice low with undisguised desire. He leaned down and placed a swift, almost teasing, kiss on his boyfriend's lips, his hands roaming appreciatively across his chest. He could feel Kurt's excitement straining against his tight jeans but, rather than panic again, Blaine just felt dizzy with the thought thathe made Kurt react that way – that Kurt was hard and excited because of Blaine. He tugged lightly at the dark vest Kurt was wearing. 'Okay if I take this off? And the shirt?'

'I- yeah.' Kurt's mouth fell open a little and his cheeks pinked. 'More than okay.'

'Good,' Blaine hummed, placing another soft kiss to Kurt's lips, before turning his attention to the buttons on Kurt's vest, popping each one slowly and deliberately. When they were all done, Kurt sat up a little so Blaine could push the thing off his shoulder. Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine was already in the process of neatly folding up the vest, and he placed it carefully on his bedside table.

'You know me so well,' Kurt said, smiling gratefully at Blaine.

'That I do,' Blaine agreed, grinning and pushing gently at Kurt's shoulders to make him lie back down and relax. Kurt was still wearing a white long-sleeved t-shirt rolled up to his elbows, and Blaine took a moment to appreciate the way it stretched tightly across his chest. He ran his hands from Kurt's shoulders to where his shirt met his jeans – god, his boyfriend was hot. Blaine snuck one hand under the shirt and kept it there as he leaned forward again to cover Kurt's mouth with his own, teasing the soft skin on the abdomen, and Kurt to moaned into the kiss. Blaine tugged at Kurt then, and they sat back up together, Blaine still straddling Kurt and their faces impossibly close. Kurt's face was flushed and his eyes were heavy-lidded and dark with want.

Stop.

Blaine froze, his hands on Kurt's waist, ready to pull at the shirt and continue their exploring. There was a strange ringing in Blaine's ears, and he was suddenly aware of how hard his heart was hammering. Part of his brain was screaming for him to stop and telling him that this wasn't what he wanted to be doing. At the same time though, a different part was repeating Kurt's endless reassurances to him, telling him that it would all be okay, and Blaine hesitated for a moment, confused by the two conflicting instincts. His hands played with the hem of the shirt, buying him time.

'Blaine?' Kurt spoke softly. 'Are you okay?'

'Yeah. Yeah...' Blaine replied automatically, distracted by the voice in his head that seemed convinced that the removal of Kurt's shirt was somehow a line that shouldn't be crossed. Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, it chanted over and over, and Blaine swallowed, wishing it would just shut up. He had been doing fine.

'Hey, stay with me,' Kurt soothed, successfully cutting off the voice in Blaine's head. 'Do you want to stop?'

When their eyes met, the expression on Kurt's face was soft and tender, not a trace of annoyance or disappointment there. Blaine felt his Kurt's firm hand on the small of his back, grounding him, and all at once he knew beyond knowing that he was safe, that he would always be safe with Kurt. He heard Kurt's calming voice in his mind.We'll be okay. Don't worry. Me and you, that's what proper. And the words quieted the parts of him that were still so terrified of everything that was happening – of what could happen and of what he wanted to happen. They were still there, but quiet for now, and Blaine knew – felt – that if they just took everything slowly and one step at a time, he – they – would be okay.

'No, I don't want to stop,' he replied honestly, but finding that his voice shook a little and didn't sound altogether confident.

'Just promise me you'll never do anything because you think you have to,' Kurt persisted.

'I won't, I promise,' Blaine said, finding his confidence, and he finally stopped fiddling with the hem of Kurt's shirt and tugged at it, smiling when Kurt helped by lifting his arms above his head. The shirt removal ruffled Kurt's hair and, knowing that he was the only one who was allowed to see Kurt this way, Blaine found the look insanely sexy, and he folded the shirt a bit more hastily than he had the vest, tossing it on the floor, before cupping Kurt's face with both his hands, telling him in between kisses, 'I want you. So bad. You have no idea.'

'I think I do,' Kurt said as Blaine's hands and eyes wandered almost reverently across Kurt's chest, and Blaine unconsciously licked his lips. Kurt wasn't ripped by any means (which was just as well as far as Blaine was concerned) but years of dance practice and caring about his diet had left him well toned. His pale skin was hairless except for a thin line running down from his navel and under the hem of his pants (Blaine was beginning to understand why they called it a "happy trail"). Blaine let his hands explore the new territory, teasing one nipple and grinning wickedly when it made Kurt's breath hitch and his words catch in his throat. 'I'm- pretty sure- the feeling's- entirely mutual.'

'Mm, you should be shirtless always,' Blaine said, planting kisses everywhere on Kurt's torso.

Kurt smiled. 'Noted. But I'm not sure that would go over very well in school.'

'Darn. My dreams are dashed.' Blaine laughed.

'But speaking of shirtless,' Kurt went on. 'I wouldn't complain if you wanted to lose some clothes, too.'

Blaine straightened up, his eyes wide, and he felt a sudden rushing sensation in his stomach that had nothing to do with arousal. It took him a second but then he remembered something his therapist had once told him, and he chose to simply acknowledge it as a feeling and move on. He could refuse to let his fears be the boss of him.

'Okay,' he said after considering his answer for a moment. 'Not the binder though.'

Kurt nodded his understanding, and he watched Blaine as he pulled off his sweater vest and threw it aside on the chair beside the bed. Blaine became aware that his breathing had turned uneven, and he felt his heart rate pick up. He wasn't sure if it came from a place of anxiety or excitement, and maybe it didn't even matter. It was probably a little of both, anyway, he thought dimly as he fumbled with his bow tie, fingers shaking slightly.

'Here, let me.' Kurt gently brushed Blaine's hands away and, with nimble fingers, he undid the bow tie before tossing it on the chair. He began unbuttoning Blaine's shirt next and Blaine watched him do the work almost not quite believing that this was really happening, but Kurt kept reminding him by placing quick kisses on his mouth every few buttons. Soon there were no more buttons and almost without Blaine noticing it, Kurt slid the shirt off his shoulders, and then Blaine was shirtless except for the binder.

It felt... okay.

And suddenly it seemed like the silliest thing in the world to have been worrying about, when there were so many other, far more important things he could be doing. Like kissing Kurt. Kissing Kurt was always good. And kissing Kurt while rolling around (nearly) shirtless was even better than Blaine could have imagined. There was something about having Kurt so close, feeling skin against skin, that was doing indescribable things to Blaine. And Kurt presumably felt the same way, if the growing bulge in his pants was anything to go by.

'Can I... touch?' Blaine asked from his position above Kurt, indicating with his eyes what he meant.

'Yeah, okay,' Kurt replied, his breathing heavy and looking adorably flushed. 'If you want.'

'I want to,' Blaine said as he moved down on the bed and positioned himself on his knees, one knee planted between Kurt's. Blaine ran a hand down Kurt's abdomen, landing finally on his clothed erection. He pressed down and gave it an experimental squeeze, which made Kurt buck his hips and groan. So Blaine did it again. And again. And again and again, varying the pressure and angle, noting what got which reactions, until Kurt was breathless, flushed and incoherent beneath him.

'Hey, no. Where are you going?' Kurt asked, very nearly whining, when Blaine moved from his seated position to instead lie on his side next to Kurt. 'Please don't stop.'

'You're adorable,' Blaine said with barely concealed amusement.

'And you're a tease,' Kurt said, pouting dramatically. 'I'm pretty sure what you're doing right now is torture. Or rather what you're not doing, I suppose.'

Blaine laughed and kissed Kurt once on the mouth before trailing his right hand down Kurt's torso, coming to a halt with his fingers barely touching the hem of his pants.

'What about this?' he asked in a low voice before he, feeling high with adrenaline and want and Kurt, so raw and exposed just for him, slid his hand swiftly into Kurt's (thankfully not too tight) pants. 'This torture, too?'

Blaine kept his eyes focused on Kurt, wanting to see his reaction, as he gripped his hard length and gave it a firm stroke. Kurt's mouth fell open and he let out a loud lewd moan, that made Blaine extremely thankful that they were alone in the house, and Blaine was pretty sure he saw Kurt's eyes roll back into his head.

'Yes, yes,' Kurt panted as Blaine continued his exploration. 'The best kind.'

'You're so gorgeous like this,' Blaine spoke low in his ear, his words raw and unfiltered. 'You should see yourself. So open and real and just- filthy and-' Blaine broke off when he heard a sudden loud noise downstairs, and he dimly realized that it must have been the front door slamming.

The front door.

'Crap.' Blaine snatched his hand back and sat up. 'My mom.'

'Your mom...?' Kurt asked dazedly, clearly not a hundred percent mentally present.

'Yes, my mom,' Blaine said somewhat impatiently, getting up from the bed while Kurt just kept lying there. 'Unless it's a burglar with a key or something, in which case I also don't want to be found like this. You're not exactly quiet,' he added with a little smirk as he pulled his shirt back on. Kurt blushed.

'Oh god, I didn't completely ruin it, did I?' he said, propping himself up on his elbows and looking mortified.

'No, you were perfect,' Blaine assured him, kneeling on the bed and kissing him. 'It was perfect.' He straightened back up and finished buttoning his shirt before adding as an afterthought, half amused and half apologetic, 'Except for the part where the ending was more of a cliffhanger than a resolution.'

Kurt let out a snort as he reached for his clothes. 'Only you could make what we just did sound half-way poetic.'

'Well, now I'm hurt,' Blaine said jokingly. 'I was going for straight up poetic. Touch of a fingertip and all that.'

Kurt's features softened and he sat up properly. 'You remember that?'

'Not to sound creepy, but I'm pretty sure I remember every conversation we've ever had.' Blaine grinned sheepishly and pulled his sweater vest over his head. He watched as Kurt put his own shirt back on, waiting until his eyes were once again on Blaine before continuing. 'In all seriousness though, I want whatever we do to be about the both of us, and not just about making sure I don't have a panic attack or something. It's a big step for both of us.'

'Good step though,' Kurt said, reaching for Blaine's hand from where he sat on the edge of the bed and giving it a soft squeeze. Blaine smiled, and he found himself thinking that even if he wouldn't exactly tell his mother the details of having had his hand in his boyfriend's pants, it had been beautiful and poetic in its own way.

'Hey, do you maybe want to stay the night?' Blaine asked, reacting to a spur-of-the-moment thought. 'I'm not saying- I mean, not with my mom in the house. But if you wanted to. Just to sleep.'

'Here? With you?' Blaine nodded, and Kurt smiled shyly. 'Yeah. I'd like that.'