The Proper Way to Miss the Signs

So I know a lot of the time I start these things off by explaining the title and what it has to do with Kurt. This is me telling you to pretty much get used to it, because yet again the meaning of the title is all wrapped up in Kurt. I was so captivated by him that I missed pretty much everything. The world could have gone to shit and I wouldn't have noticed so long as I was looking in Kurt's eyes and he was looking back in mine…

I woke up warm and in Kurt's arms though I could tell by how utterly exhausted I felt that I hadn't been asleep long. Maybe half an hour—if it was any longer than that and I'd baste, broil, and then eat my own shorts—or, you know, whatever it is that you do after basting. But anyway.

The disconcerting feeling of being held in someone's arms, in Kurt's arms, had my blood zipping through my tangled veins twice as fast. I'd never been held before—not in the way that counted, anyway—and I panicked. Everything just seemed wrong. Me, him, us, the way I was so tangled up in him and being cradled by him, whatever, it was just all wrong and I needed to get off before my body caught fire and I burned slowly dead. I told myself that the last thing I needed—or wanted—was to become some sort of needy cuddle whore, forever addicted to the song Kurt's steady heartbeat was playing in my ear.

Then, everything stopped. Kurt breathed in deep and my blood slowed to a slow moving slip.

He inhaled slowly, his chest lifting under me as his lungs filled up with air and because my head was cradled under his chin and my arm was thrown carelessly over his chest, I moved with him. He released the breath with a soft hum that was soft enough to sound like a sigh, but still strong enough so that I felt the gentle vibrations reverberating beneath me. Nothing had ever felt so calming.

I slowly relaxed against his surprisingly strong yet comfortable chest and closed my eyes. I tried my best to match my breathing with his and relished in the slow-moving sparks of contented pleasure that lapped lethargically at the inside of my skull, making my head feel like it was stuff with soft fluff. That, when coupled with the dull press and thump of his heartbeat against my cheek, felt amazing.

As if he could somehow sense how blissed out I felt, Kurt's arms tightened around me and bliss turned into something more potent that I didn't have a word for.

All just because Kurt was holding me in his arms. It seems really stupid and ridiculous, but I had never been so happy before. I decided that maybe being Kurt's cuddle whore wouldn't be the absolute worst thing in the world as long as I was the only one who knew about it.

I fell asleep with my equilibrium once again intact.

The second time I woke up, I was lying on my side and I still felt pretty exhausted, not well rested at all, but still happy. Kurt was on his side too and that time he was looking back at me when I opened my eyes.

His eyes went a little wide, obviously embarrassed at getting caught staring. I couldn't help the arrogant smirk that made my lips quirk up to one side.

"Creeper," I accused and he rolled his eyes, embarrassment immediately exchanged for annoyance. I loved it. "How long have we been asleep?"

Instead of speaking he reached out with the arm that I wasn't using as a makeshift pillow, groping blindly behind him for something. I lifted my head and peered around his shoulder. His iPhone was just a few inches away from his searching fingers.

"Relax, gorgeous, I got it." Detangling myself from him, I leaned up farther to reach around him. He helped make it easier by rolling on his back.

When I was finally holding his phone in my hand, I pressed the home button and then groaned. We had only slept for about forty minutes.

"What?" he spoke for the first time, voice soft, and I angled the screen towards him so he could see he atrocity.

He groaned, too, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "We should go back to sleep." You should go downstairs before someone catches us.

I frowned, not liking that idea. Kurt was warm and beautiful. The couch would be neither. "I vote that 'should' be the operative word."

"Blaine," he said slowly, a warning.

"What? No one's come up so far."

"My dad could come up any second." More than likely he's passed out on the couch in front of the television but as soon as it's twelve o'clock, Carole will wake him up and then he'll come looking.

For a minute I was sidetracked by how homey that one sentence made the Hummel family seem. I tried to imaging my mother waking my father up because he had fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of some unimportant television show—just because she didn't want to go to sleep without him. The idea was so absolutely ludicrous, it was almost funny. Even more ludicrous was the notion that my father would check on me before he went to bed. Cooper would have been the one to do that. Hell, he had been the one to do it. Not anymore, though. I pushed all that shit back and refocused on Kurt.

"So we've got until then to sleep." I shrugged.

Kurt sighed. "Blaine," he started and I kissed him to shut him up. It was languid and short, and still nothing like the kisses I was used to—none of Kurt's kisses were like anything I was used to. He looked a little dazed when I pulled back.

"I can do that now, right?" I asked, wanting to be sure. "It's okay if I kiss you?"

Instead of answering he leaned up for more. I smirked triumphantly against his lips and then dipped my tongue into his already open and waiting mouth. I leaned over him, letting him take some of my weight and used my hand to tilt his head back as I tilted my own to the side. I probed as deep as the length of my tongue would allow, wanting to taste as much of him as I could.

A throat cleared.

Kurt went tense and immediately pulled his lips away from mine. He made as if to sit up but I braced myself and refused to move.

"Blaine," he hissed through his teeth. "Get. Up."

I ignored him and looked over my shoulder at Logan Hummel. "Can I help you?" I asked snidely, trying not to let her manic grin get to me. The woman was obviously bent.

"You know, I always thought that Kurt had enough spit of his own." There was a lewd glint in her eyes. "Clearly you disagree."

I glared at her.

"Did you need something, Aunt Logan?" Kurt asked, no longer pushing at me. His face was about nine different shades of red.

Looking like the definition of ease, Logan moved to lean against the doorframe. "Me? Nope, not really. But your father should be up here any second."

Just as the words left her lips, Burt's voice called out from somewhere close by. "How long does it take to grab a few blankets and pillows?"

Kurt shot up in alarm, clipping my nose with his shoulder as he went.

"Fuck." A burning sensation erupted in the space between my eyes and traveled like little pin pricks up and down my nose. "Thanks for that," I snarked, my voice muffled by my hands, which I held over my nose in a pointless attempt to relieve some of the pain.

"Sit up," Kurt hissed at me through his teeth. I glared at him, but still forced myself into what I felt passed for a sitting position. Apparently Kurt didn't agree because he pulled me up farther just as Burt walked in with a scowl on his face.

He took one look at us and folded his arms. "Something wrong with the chair?"

"Nothing that I can see," I offered before I could think twice about it. Kurt sent me a furious look.

Burt chose ignore my snark and turned to Logan. "Was the door open when you got up here?"

Logan made a big show of frowning thoughtfully. "You know, I just can't remember." It was closed, alright. She tapped her finger against her chin and threw a shit eating grin my way. "I bet Short Stuff remembers, though, don't you, B?"

That time I kept my damn mouth shut.

Logan shrugged at my silence. "Sorry, bro. Curly Top is being uncooperative. It's outta my hands."

Burt rolled his eyes at his sister and then turned to Kurt. "Why's your hair all messed up?" Burt asked, eyeing Kurt's head.

Kurt turned his eyes on his father. "Dunno, Dad"—Blaine must have messed it up when we were making out—"What was it that you said about the meatloaf Carole made last night because I can't remember." I remember perfectly well what you said.

Burt folded his arms slowly across his chest. "Dunno, Kurt,"—I said I'd choked down cardboard that tasted better—"Remind me what happened to Finn's lucky socks."

"Car key," Kurt shot back.

"Finn's Power Ranger sheets."

"Sweater."

Burt's eyes flared wide. "Damn," he muttered and Kurt grinned smugly. "Fine. Don't tell me, then. I probably don't wanna know anyway."

I frowned, confused, because what the fuck had all that been about? Blackmail obviously, so Kurt didn't have to answer his father's questions, but…

Logan held up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait," she said, looking at Kurt. "You mean to tell me that you were the one who torched those nasty sweat rags that had the audacity to call themselves socks? On purpose?" Kurt bit his lip and Logan grinned like an excited cat. "Ohhh, I've so got you. That totally trumps all of the dirt you've got on me."

Burt's head whipped around so fast I winced. "He's got dirt on you?" he asked, mouth hanging open.

Logan's eyebrows shot up. "You trying to snap your neck off?"

Burt crossed his arms over his chest.

Logan scoffed. "Pop a pill, Burt. You know the rules. When it comes to the bargaining chips, don't ask don't tell."

"Yeah, yeah." Burt waved a dismissive hand. "I'll find out eventually anyway."

Kurt snorted and he and Logan shared a look.

I watched them interact with each other, feeling lost and out of place. I was familiar with blackmail thanks to my loving father, but not the way they were doing it. They made it seem like some kind of game that could be used to settle a score between two people, almost like Rock, Paper, Scissors, or something like that, rather than actual blackmail. And I got the feeling that no matter what happened, no one would actually run up to Finn and tell him what happened to his socks, so it wasn't like they were actually holding anything over anyone's head. It was… weird. It was disconcerting and I didn't really know what to make of it, so I tried to stay as invisible as possible. I even scooted a little bit farther away from Kurt, needing some distance. I wondered if that was how families were supposed to operate.

Kurt took notice of the sudden space between us and frowned at me. When I refused to look at him, he turned back to his family members. "Is there a reason why you're all here or…?" he asked, obviously trying to hurry them along so he could get rid of them.

For once, though, I was happy we weren't alone. If they left, Kurt's curious eyes would be back on me and I wasn't sure if I could find a way to explain to him what I was feeling in a way he would understand. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to try. Fortunately for me, though, Kurt's question sent his father back on track.

"I know why I'm here," he announced, shooting Kurt a meaningful look. Then he looked at Logan. "Why are you here?"

Logan frowned and tilted her head. "You know, I just can't remember," she began again, and Burt rolled his eyes. I came to warn Kurt that you were coming just in case he was in here doing some kinky shit with Mop Head that he'd rather you didn't see.

Kinky. Shit.

Weren't family members supposed to shy away from all thoughts of other family members having sex? I certainly didn't want to think about Cooper and kinky sex. It left a bad taste in my mouth. Obviously Logan Hummel was an escaped invalid. There was really no other explanation for her. Even her truth was bent.

Burt huffed. "Alright, Logan. Out."

Logan grinned and mock-saluted him. "Aye-aye, Cap'in." She marched out the door.

That left me in the room with Kurt and his father.

"Blankets, Kurt," was all Burt said.

From his closet, Kurt grabbed what was needed and made as if to take everything downstairs but Burt stopped him.

"Blaine and I can set all that up."

Kurt looked like he wanted to argue, and opened his mouth to say something but Burt shot him a look and Kurt cut himself off before he made a sound. Once the blankets and stuff was transferred from Kurt's arms to Burt's, Kurt winced apologetically at me. I did my best to smile and shrug, telling him and myself that it wasn't a big deal. I wasn't scared of Burt Hummel.

The couch was lumpy and green. I stood off to the side as Kurt's father set up the pillows, sheets, and blankets he had brought down for me.

"It's not the most comfortable surface in the world," Burt said as he dropped two pillows down. "But it's better than nothing." He shrugged and, fuck, it was awkward because what was I supposed to say to that exactly? Gee-that's-nice came to mind and I only just managed to keep it trapped behind my teeth where it belonged.

Burt cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable and I couldn't help but think that it served him right. "So, uh, there's filtered water in the fridge if you need it. The bathroom, if you need that, is through that door." He pointed. "If you're gonna turn the TV on just keep the volume low… I think that's everything." He paused. He waited. I stood there staring at the floor, feeling like an idiot.

"Thanks," I grumbled, giving him what I figured he was waiting for. I really just wanted him to leave so I could lie down. I was exhausted.

Burt opened his mouth to say something but in the end he seemed to think better of it and nodded slowly. "Well, let us know if you need anything." He left slowly, his eyes on me as if he didn't quite know what to make of me. In my head I told him he shouldn't hold his breath while trying to figure it out, but I kept that quiet too. I just wanted to be alone. Giving him an attitude would only prolong his departure.

When he was finally gone the embarrassment set in, which was weird, because I really didn't know what I felt embarrassed for. Trying not to think about it too much, I dropped down on the couch, which was a lot more comfortable than it looked at first glance, and pulled the blankets over myself. They smelled kind of like Kurt and the memory of being curled up in him tugged at my bellybutton. I was finally alone and all I could think was that I wished Kurt was there with me, curious looks and probing questions be damned. The last thing I remember thinking was that I was some fucking mess.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes the next morning was Finn. He was kneeling in front of the couch and grinning at me like a crazy mother fucker. "Dude, what the fuck?"

He kept right on grinning. "I was waiting for you to wake up."

With a wince and a popping sound somewhere near my left shoulder, I pushed myself up. "Yeah, I got that. Why?"

"Are you really gay?"

What was wrong with these people? "Ye-e-es…" I said very slowly, nodding my head like I was talking to someone with a severe mental handicap.

Finn frowned. "Like… seriously?"

I was beginning to lose my patience. "Are you going somewhere with this?" I snapped.

Finn winced and I almost—almost—felt bad for him. He reminded me a little of Brittany.

"Sorry, dude," Finn said, looking uncomfortable. "I was only asking because Kurt is, you know, gay and stuff, but he's… Kurt. And you're not. Kurt, I mean."

"O… kay?" Was there a point to all this?

Kurt walked in the room with a sigh and a plate in his hands. He was already dressed and his hair was done. He looked beautiful. "Just ask him, Finn," he ordered.

"Right. Since you're a different kind of gay than Kurt is, does that mean you like video games?"

A different kind of… was he serious? "What does being gay have to do with liking video games?" I asked as Kurt sat down next to me on the couch. On the plate was this rolled up pancake thing with fruit in it and some whipped cream on top. My mouth watered.

Finn looked genuinely confused. "Uh… I dunno. Nothing, I guess."

"Bingo," I said dryly.

"Oh." Finn frowned. "Was that defensive?"

I frowned too. "You mean 'offensive?'"

"Yeah, that one."

"Pretty much."

"Oh."

Kurt scoffed. "Seriously? Now you get it? Didn't I already make that point?" Finn shrugged and Kurt scoffed again. "Here," he said, holding the plate out for me to take.

I looked up at him. "You made this for me?" I asked, dumbfounded.

Kurt shrugged like it was no big deal, but it was a big deal to me and I could see the slight blush on his cheeks. Without thinking about it, I leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. His face exploded with color and he looked at Finn with nervous eyes, but I couldn't help the stupid grin that found its way on my face.

Finn was grinning too. "Dude, I've never seen Kurt so red. Not even when he had that creepy stalker crush on—"

"Shut up, Finn!" Kurt yelled, and Finn winced at the sudden outburst, shutting himself up. It was too late though. My interest was spiked.

"Creepy stalker crush on who?" I asked and Kurt scowled at me, looking like he might claw my face off, which was cool so long as he didn't take my pancake thing away because I had already taken a bite and it was fucking delicious.

"Uh, I shouldn't say. Kurt would be really mad," Finn said, surprising me. I had fully expected him to lie. Not lie in a malicious way or anything, but in the little-white-lie way most anyone else would have done. You know, like saying 'nothing' or something like that. It was a refreshing change, even though I really would have liked to know.

"Sorry," Finn said, looking apologetic.

I shrugged. "It's cool."

Then for some reason, Kurt blurted out, "Crush on Finn."

Thankfully I had swallowed the food in my mouth or I might have choked. My mouth dropped open. His face was tomato status now. "Seriously?" I asked him.

"It was forever ago," he muttered. It was sophomore year.

Finn looked up at Kurt, bewildered. "Wait. I thought you didn't want him to know. What did you yell at me for if you were gonna tell him anyway?"

"Don't worry about it, Finn," Kurt mumbled. "Just go get the damn game."

"But he never said that—"

"He likes them," Kurt cut him off. I don't know if he likes them or not, I just want to get rid of you.

"Oh. Sweet. Be right back."

"You know," I said when Finn was gone, "I've never actually played a video game before."

"They're great." They're stupid.

I snorted. "Well thanks for volunteering my gaming services then." I paused. "So why did you tell me?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, still pouting. I felt bad for yelling at him. Also, you didn't try to take his omission, so I figured you deserved a reward or something.

I sighed. I was never going to live that down. "I told you, that was a one-time thing. It's really dangerous for me to do it. I'm lucky I didn't liquefy my brain."

Kurt bit his lip and looked down at his lap. He looked kind of guilty, which I thought was weird.

"What's with the look?" I asked.

"Can I kiss you?" He blurted out too fast.

I'd like to interject here. There are some things about Kurt that I didn't know at the time this conversation was going on. And, yeah, maybe I should have thought his completely random question was a little out of place, but at the time all I could do was grin like a lovesick moron and answer his question by putting my mouth on his. I chalked his guilt up to the fact that he had doubted me and quickly forgot all about it. Hindsight, though, is a complete bitch. It makes you see all kinds of clues that you wished you had been attentive enough to notice back when the moment was right there and happening. I'm not really going to get into it right now, but just be aware that Kurt was hiding something from me. I'll tell you eventually, but not now. And if you're wondering if I'm being all secretive just to drive you bats, you're pretty much right. It's how I get my kicks. So squirm hard for me, bitches.

Anyway.

I pegged Finn for a COD kind of a guy but the games he returned with were not what I was expecting. One of them in particular, a game called Little Big Planet, had this burlap sack creature-thing on the front cover that offered anyone who looked at it a cute-faced grin. It was the kind of game I would have bought for a 6 year old, but Finn swore up and down that it was 'like, really, really, really awesome' so I went with it and kept my opinions to myself for once.

Turned out that the game was pretty cool, and a lot more difficult than I expected it to be. Definitely not for a 6 year old, but probably not for a 17 year old either. Whatever, though. I had fun with it. Finn was pretty cool too. He got excited over the simplest things and in the three hours we played, he never lied. He could have been Britt's gigantic male twin only without the nine kinds of crazy and sans the obese cat companion that tried to maul my face with his claws whenever I got too close (And hopefully Bitches never reads that part about Britt being crazy so I get to keep my balls).

About an hour into the game, Finn admitted that I was the first person he played the game with. He figured that because I was gay I wouldn't give him any shit for liking it, unlike his other male friends, who told him it was 'gay.' Apparently some guy named Puck busted his balls for it or some such bullshit like that. Personally, I'd rather be 'gay' then have a stupid fucking name like Puck. But whatever. Finn took the 'gay' thing literally, I guess. Kurt rolled his eyes at Finn's admission, muttering something about idiots and stereotypes.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Kurt asked as he sketched idly next to me. He shook his head. "No matter how many times it's explained to him…" he trailed off, unable to say more.

Still, despite Finn's complete lack of knowledge of how 'defensive' he was being, he was okay. Maybe even okay enough to be considered a friend, but I had to see.

Around then three hour mark, Everly came in the room. "Kurt, can I talk to you for a minute?" Can I talk to you for an undetermined amount of time?

Kurt looked up from his sketching and sighed. He stood up. "Wait here?" he asked me.

I don't know where he thought I was going, but I told him, "Sure," just the same.