I Don't Know You, But I Want You All the More for That
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I Don't Know You, But I Want You All the More for That: Chapter 1


E - Words: 1,168 - Last Updated: Jun 11, 2012
Story: Closed - Chapters: 5/? - Created: Oct 19, 2011 - Updated: Jun 11, 2012
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“Shit.”

Kurt looked to the ceiling with wide eyes as Blaine collapsed onto his chest, breathing heavily into his collarbone. Kurt ran his fingers repeatedly through Blaine’s curls, as if he was petting a dog that has just done a trick. Good boy.

Blaine rolled off of him and onto his back, so that they lay shoulder to shoulder on the bed. Kurt removed his hand from Blaine’s hair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. They stayed silent, just staring up at the cracks on the ceiling of Kurt’s dorm room. They were halfway through their sophomore year of college, but this was something new for both of them, and neither of them really knew how to act. What exactly did one say in these situations?

Eventually Blaine got off the bed and slid on his jeans. He continued getting dressed, keeping his back to Kurt the whole time. Kurt didn’t even look over at him. He was staring very decidedly at the lamp at the foot of his bed. Why was this so awkward? Didn’t people do this all the time? Isn’t it supposed to be fun?

Blaine checked that he had his keys and his wallet before finally turning around to meet Kurt with a timid gaze.

“Um...th-thanks, I guess. It was...great?” And it was, but god. Why did he even open his mouth? He sounded like an idiot. He blushed deeply and stared at the ground for a moment. “I’m just gonna go,” he said simply.

Kurt nodded that he understood but continued to stare at the lamp. Blaine paused halfway out the door with his hand on the doorknob.

“My name’s Blaine, by the way.”

Oh my god, Kurt thought, closing his eyes and willing himself to just disappear into the bed. Could this get any more horrifyingly awkward?

“Kurt,” he answered sharply. Even though this was his first one night stand, he was pretty sure that names just complicated things, but now this boy had opened that big, disgusting can of worms, and Kurt hated himself immediately for not giving this boy a fake name, or simply refusing to answer. He wished this boy- Blaine- would just leave. But still he lingered.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t know how to...you know, what to do in this kind of, um...in a situation like-”

“Oh my god just go!” Kurt snapped, probably a little too harshly, but he honestly could not handle another minute of this embarrassment. Blaine looked a little shaken, and opened and closed his mouth a few times as if he wanted to say something else before finally nodding and closing the door behind him.

Blaine returned to his room, and as he closed the door he fell back against it and let out a frustrated sigh. How could he have been so stupid?


3 weeks earlier

Blaine sat in the cafe with his laptop and coffee finishing his english paper that was due at midnight. 3 hours and counting, and still a page and a half to go. Blaine prided himself on his ability to crank out decent papers in a short amount of time, but he really needed to get cracking on this one. It was worth a third of his grade and he hated himself for waiting so long to finish it. He covered his face with his hands and scrubbed at his tired eyes for a moment. He had been sitting in the same place since 9:00 that morning, had gone through 6 scones, 3 muffins, 2 cinnamon rolls, a slice of lemon pie, 4 medium drips and a red bull. Why did he always do this to himself?

He glanced at the clock. 2 hours and 49 minutes to go. He gazed at his screen blankly and then looked down at his hands, frozen at the keyboard. Come on, he thought. Just write something. Anything. He began to write some half formed thoughts and vague, generalizing statements. Not his best work, but at least it was something. He was pretty sure the rest of his paper was strong enough to get him a good grade even if the last few paragraphs were complete bullshit. He just needed another page.

Just then, the door swung open. Blaine glanced up on reflex and then his eyes returned to his screen, but not for long. His head shot up again as he took a second look at the young man who had just walked in. He was tall and thin, but not scrawny. His shoulders were clear evidence that he managed to get to the gym more than once in a while, and they were beautifully showcased by the tight, long-sleeved, white Henley shirt he had on under a sleek black vest. The shirt had two buttons right in the middle that were undone just enough to show the faintest hint of fine chest hair. Blaine swallowed hard. His eyes traveled north, and rested on a beautiful pale face with striking blue eyes, and soft light brown hair that was flawlessly combed back out of his face. His mouth was small but his lips were a shiny rosy pink that made Blaine dart his tongue out and wet his own lips subconsciously. After exploring his top half, Blaine’s eyes began to wander down and-HOLY HELL. This boy’s legs were perfectly sculpted and he was wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans that made his ass look like an oil painting. And incredibly beautiful, tight, firm oil painting. Blaine realized that he was beginning to pant slightly and quickly shut his mouth and gulped, running his fingers through his curls and trying to calm himself down. He turned his head, determined to look anywhere but back at this boy.

He failed.

As the boy waited in line he exuded a kind of confidence that was captivating. His weight was resting slightly on one hip and his hands rested comfortably on the shoulder strap of his bag. His head was held high, and Blaine couldn’t help thinking that he looked like he was posing for a portrait. The boy’s profile was sensational. He finally stepped up to the counter and ordered.
“Hi. I’ll have a grande non-fat mocha.”

Sweet hell. Blaine’s eyes fluttered shut at the boy’s voice. It was higher in pitch than his own, but not feminine. It was just...pure. Smooth and musical. Blaine didn’t usually get like this. He noticed when attractive guys walked in and would do his fair share of leering, but he had never been reduced to such a low functioning state before. And perfect timing too. He had a damn paper to finish.

By the time he finally had his breathing under control and reopened his eyes, the young man was gone. Blaine whipped his head around, searching, but only managed to catch a glimpse out the window of the man walking away with his drink. Blaine watched him go, appreciating the way his hips swung just ever so slightly as he strutted down the sidewalk. When he was gone, Blaine sat back in his chair and let out a shaky sigh.

“Damn.”


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