♥ ♥ ♥

“So, do you want me to stop?”

Blaine looks at me levelly over his coffee cup. It’s a week after Regionals, and we’re studying together in a high-backed booth at the Lima Bean. He knows what I'm talking about

My boyfriend sighs heavily, sinking down in his seat. “I don’t know, Kurt. Here’s the thing: I know you love me, and I know you’re not going to...to cheat on me with him or anything. I just don’t want either of you to get hurt. I love both of you. He and I are patching things up, and I think I’m almost ready to go home.” Blaine grasps my hand in his on top of the table. “That said, our song at Regionals ticked him off in a major way, no matter how many times Rachel, Santana, Brittany, Sam, you, and I all told him it was nothing romantic. I’m afraid he’s out for blood.”

“Whose?”

“Again, I don’t know.” Blaine sounds frustrated. “Maybe yours, maybe mine; sooner or later, he'll probably be after Santana, Brittany, and Rachel, too.”

“What do we do?” I murmur, leaning in closer to him over the tabletop.

“Jesus, what do I know?” Blaine chuckles. “Baby, we’re just going to have to be really careful. Sneaking around isn’t how I’d like to love you, but it’s how it has to be if we want to keep the peace.”

I nod. “So...I should keep doing whatever I’m doing with Cooper for now, then.”

“Yeah,” Blaine decides. He giggles softly, brushing my Doc Marten’d foot with his loafer-clad one under the table. “Just don’t let him kiss you.”

“Kissing me is entirely your job.”

Blaine kisses two of his fingers and presses them to my puckered lips. “Mwah!”

♥ ♥ ♥

For months after the piano bar excursion, I watch Santana Lopez very closely. Even though we’re friends now, she’s still an enigma—it’s just her nature. She’s told me about her home life, the way she’s grown up, and it makes sense that she’s so guarded; it’s the only way she knows how to survive.

Over the course of my observation, however, I notice her coming out of her shell. Every time I go out with her for coffee, she gets progressively kinder; she starts calling me by my first name, asking me how classes are, and sometimes, we don’t even talk about the plan the entire time. It feels good to know that she cares about me.

The problem is that I care, too; I want to try and be the guiding light that helps her decipher her feelings for Brittany. I have no idea how to broach the subject, and it’s not like I can ask Blaine or Finn. As far as they know, Santana is straight as an arrow. Maybe I know better because my gaydar is excellent, but then again, it’s been known to fuck up from time to time—for example, it will forever bewilder me that I didn’t notice Blaine’s gayness right away.

So, when I walk into glee rehearsal five minutes late, arm in arm with Finn, I’m pleasantly surprised to see Santana in the middle of the floor.

“Oh, nice of you to show,” she ribs us, smiling teasingly. “Now, sit down and shut up. Auntie Tana is going to sing now.” Finn and I silently take our saved spots next to Rachel (for him) and Blaine (for me).

Santana looks out at the entire glee club. “This is a song that I heard the other day, and it just...it just kind of resonated with me. Hit it, piano Brad!”

Brad shoots her his trademark grimace, and it occurs to me that I’ve never heard him utter a word in the entire time I’ve been at McKinley.

Santana starts to sing, and the glee club falls silent.

A tornado flew around my room before you came

Excuse the mess it made

It usually doesn’t rain in Southern California, much like Arizona

My eyes don’t shed tears, but boy, they pour

When I’m thinkin’ bout you

Oh, no, no, no

I’ve been thinkin bout you

You know, know, know

I’ve been thinkin bout you

Do you think about me still?

Do you, do you?

Or do you not think so far ahead?

‘Cause I’ve been thinkin bout forever

Or do you not think so far ahead?

‘Cause I’ve been thinkin bout forever

I can’t help it; I look over at Brittany to gauge her reaction. She’s smiling uncontrollably—definitely a good sign. The more I observe, the more I wish they’d just bite the bullet and figure it out; they’d be a beautiful couple.

When Santana is done, we give her a standing ovation.

“That was amazing,” Blaine whispers to me, kissing my cheek because he can; Cooper can’t see us where we’re sitting.

“I know,” I reply, rubbing his lower back gently. I’ve learned that it soothes him, and my boyfriend is in a perpetual state of stress right now. He puts his arm around my shoulders and his other hand against my chest. I decide to text Santana, as I can’t very well shout across the room my congratulations on a job well done.

Kurt Hummel: Beautiful, as always.

Santana Lopez: Thank ya, Kurty.

“Hey, that’s my nickname for you!” Blaine whines in mock-jealousy. “Gimme phone.”

I give him phone, and he types furiously.

Kurt Hummel: You stole my nickname for himmmmmmm it’s MINE

Santana Lopez: Just take comfort in the fact that you’ll always be SLIGHTLY more bootylicious than me, baby. It’s all good.

Kurt Hummel: How do you know this is Blaine???? It could totally not be Blaine.

Santana Lopez: Multiple punctuation marks, not to mention you’re the only one so smitten with Kurt that you’re possessive of his NICKNAME ;)

“She knows I’m smitten,” Blaine gasps. “Kurty, what do we—”

“Breathe, Blainers.” I stroke his back soothingly.

Rachel leans over Finn. “Blaine, with all due respect, everyone knows you’re smitten.”

Blaine blushes, tucking his face into my neck to hide it.

Smiling to myself—I have the world’s cutest boyfriend—I type out a new message to Santana.

Kurt Hummel: It’s Kurt again. Let’s meet for coffee after school.

Santana Lopez: See ya there, babygay!

♥ ♥ ♥

“Anything in particular you wanted to talk about?” Santana asks me, sliding into her side of the booth with her extra-hot no-whip mocha.

“Actually, yeah,” I tell her, my throat going dry. “I wanted to—ask you something. I’m making a huge speculation here, but generally, I’m pretty good at these sorts of things.”

“W-what sorts of things?”

I take a fortifying breath. If I’m wrong, she could possibly go all Teresa Giudice and flip the table on me, and I’m not ready to die yet.

“Remember Regionals, how we went to the piano bar and you sang that song?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it—did it have anything to do with...someone we know?” I bite my lip, awaiting her response.

Santana sighs, resting her elbow on the table and her head on the heel of her hand. “Yeah. You win, Hummelina. I take it you figured out who it was, too, hmm?”

I nod. “I think so.”

“Shoot.”

“Brittany?”

I watch as Santana transforms before my eyes. She goes from a confident girl, afraid to talk about her feelings, to an emotional wreck—the tears fall immediately.

“She’s everything, Kurt,” Santana sobs, coming over to my side of the booth and resting her head on my shoulder. “She—we have a thing, if you could call it that, and we have for years. All it is to her is sweet lady kisses, but it’s so much more than that to me. She makes me feel like a good person, which, I mean, you know me. That’s a feat.”

“You are a good person, Santana,” I tell her. “If you weren’t, you’d just be using me for the plan. You wouldn’t be sitting here having coffee with me.”

“I mean, I guess,” she mutters. “But, Kurt, this is—this is breaking my heart. I sang that song in there today for her, too, and she knows. At least, I think she does. Everyone is all “oh, Brittany’s so dumb,” but she’s not, Kurt. She might be ditzy, but she is perceptive, and I wish I could have her.” Santana sighs, collapsing against me in resignation. “Too bad it’ll never be real.”

“You just have to have faith, Santana,” I tell her, stroking her hair and mentally cheering when she doesn’t stab me for touching it.

“Kurty, life hasn’t really handed me a lot of reasons to have faith.”

I can’t think of anything to say to that. All I can do is hold her tight and pray that it’ll all work out.

♥ ♥ ♥

“So, hey,” Santana says, chirpy as ever, fifteen minutes later, “what’s going on with you?”

What a question, Santana. What a question.

“Oh, you know.” I laugh nervously. “Just the usual—”

“Cut the front, Kurt,” Santana snaps, though all I see behind her eyes is friendly concern. “What’s really going on? You haven’t gone on a real date with Cooper in weeks and weeks. You hardly acknowledge him. You spend all your time with his brother. You’re—holy shit.” Her eyes widen.

“What?” I narrow my eyes at her, knowing that if she finishes that sentence correctly, I’m ruined.

“You’re in love with him.” She smacks her head. “I am so stupid. So stupid.”

“Whoa, whoa, Tana. Slow down.” I shake my head vigorously. “I am not in love with Cooper.”

“I know! I meant Blaine!” she shouts, capturing the attention of half the patrons of the Lima Bean. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re also correct,” I shoot back. “I just couldn’t take it anymore, you know? He’s everything, Santana,” I tell her, echoing the statement she’d made to me about Britt. “I felt whole when he told me he—” I swallow my words as her mouth forms a perfect, dangerous, well-informed O. Whoops.

“You’re dating him?!” she shrieks, capturing the other half’s attention. It appears we’re now the afternoon entertainment.

“Keep your damn voice down,” I stage-whisper. “We’re not dating, because we can’t actually go on dates, because it’s a secret from Cooper. But...yeah, Blaine’s my boyfriend.” I can’t stop the blush from overtaking my face as I begin to tell Santana all about how it happened. She stays silent, letting the smile appear on her face. It warms my heart that she’s happy for me.

“I’m sorry we ever roped you into this,” she says honestly. “I didn’t know it would get so complicated, and I definitely didn’t anticipate caring about you.” There’s a playful gleam in her eye. “I want you to be happy, Kurt, ‘cause you’re the fiercest bitch I know. I’m with you on this.”

“And you know I’m the same,” I assure her. “I want you to be happy, Santana, ‘cause you’re the fiercest bitch I know.” I wink at her, making her laugh. “Let’s get through our relationship entanglements together, okay?”

“Okay.” We bump fists; a united front.

I sigh, taking a large gulp of my coffee. “He wants me to stop the plan, you know.”

“Who does?”

“Blaine. He doesn’t want to have to hide anymore, which is completely understandable, but—I just don’t know how we’re going to do it.”

“I’ve thought about it,” she confesses. “I never actually wanted revenge for myself; Brittany was really upset, and I wanted to make her feel better. I don’t care if Cooper gets exposed for the liar he is, because I know for a fact he’s only ‘dating’ you right now.”

“Are you serious?” I cry, dismayed. Santana nods. “Well, that makes me feel better. Blaine was totally right.”

“About what?”

“A long time ago, at Quinn’s party—you know, where he kissed me?”

“I’m surprised you remember that, Kurty. I was too drunk to remember my middle name,” she laughs. “Anyway. Continue.”

“Thank you. Anyway, he told me in the car on the way over that he was mad at Cooper because he was afraid he would fuck me over. I said I was ‘kinda fucking him over, too,’ and I actually am now. I feel horrible.” I put my head down on the table.

“Why should you?” Santana asks. “This all stemmed from him fucking people over. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”

“You think it’s gonna be that easy?” I scoff, incredulous.

“I know it is.”

The confident smile Santana flashes my way gives me a temporary boost, but I remain unsure. There’s no doubt in my mind that by the end of it all, someone will be hurt.

♥ ♥ ♥

Later on, around ten-thirty, I lay in my bed, awaiting Blaine’s reply to my latest flirty text. He and I have been getting steadily flirtier with each other when we’re alone, too, and it’s exciting. A few days ago, we were kissing in my bed, and I felt his warm fingers slide down to cup me...there. I was hard. I didn’t stop him, but he didn’t take it any further than that. It felt amazing to have him touch me where I’d never been touched before, and something tells we’ll be taking it further soon.

I snap out of my sexy reverie when my phone rings. The caller ID reads Cooper Anderson, and I’m really not in the mood to talk to him right now. Inexplicably, and before I can think better of it, I press ‘accept.’

“Cooper?” I answer, slightly annoyed when he doesn’t answer right away.

“Kuurrt?” he slurs after a minute or so. “You still ther—ow!”

I roll my eyes. He’s so drunk. “You’re so drunk,” I chuckle.

“Yeeaah,” Cooper replies, giggling maniacally. I wait patiently on the other end of the line while he laughs himself to death. “Drunk as a fuckin’ skunk.”

“Was there something you wanted?” I snap. I really didn’t want to spend my night deciphering Cooper’s slurred words and uncontrollable giggles.

“Wha? Oh, uh, yeah, there was.” I can hear that terribly obscene Flo Rida song about whistles playing in the background. “Kurt, d’I do something wrong? You’ve been, like...avoiding me, and shit. Using my brother as a shield between us...and shit. Are you—whassgoing on with you?”

I sigh. I can’t just confess everything, and I can’t just end whatever weird sometimes-dating thing we have going on right now. So, what do I say?

“Cooper...no, I’m not mad. I’m just—everything’s just a little...you know?”

“Yeah.”

“And Blaine’s, like, my best friend here, and we just spend a lot of time together.”

“Yer all he ever talks about, y’know.”

“Really?” I smile to myself, thankful that Cooper can’t see it.

“Yep. He’s crushin’ on you. It’s cute. Igottago, byyyye!”

I hear the dial tone on Cooper’s end and press ‘end call.’ He knows Blaine is “crushin’ on me,” but he still doesn’t know I’m crushin’ on Blaine right back. How is he so nonchalant about it? Isn’t he supposed to be jealous?

♥ ♥ ♥

Blaine Anderson: Sammyyy!

Sam Evans: Blainey!

Blaine Anderson: COOPER IS GROUNDED FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE!!!!! :D He broke curfew and came home at 4 AM from that senior party and woke everyone up and smelled like alcohol and weed and drunk driving and Satan and OMG HE’S HELLA GROUNDED

Sam Evans: Yay?

Blaine Anderson: Sammy you don’t get it

Sam Evans: Okay. Help me get it. What does Cooper being grounded mean?

Blaine Anderson: I’M ASKING KURT HUMMEL TO PROM

Sam Evans: SWEET!

Blaine Anderson: I’m so pumped!!! Pumpy pumpy the sun is shining the fucking birds are singing aaaa lalalaaaa

Sam Evans: It’s pouring rain outside...

♥ ♥ ♥

By the time the bell rings at the end of the day, the butterflies have set up shop in my stomach. Blaine’s been telling me all week to ‘get excited for glee club this Friday,’ and I’ve been speculating ever since about what he has planned. It's probably some mashup he cooked up with Rachel and Finn.

“Do you know about anything special happening in Glee today?” I ask Santana as we walk to the choir room from seventh-period bio. She shakes her head.

“Cooper’s out sick, so your lover has a golden opportunity to seduce you surreptitiously in song,” she quips, “but other than that, there’s nothing big happening.” We walk up to the door and read the sign, hastily written in Sam’s hand:

GLEE PRACTICE IN AUDITORIUM.

“Okay, then.” Santana shrugs, taking my arm and walking us to the auditorium.

We arrive five minutes late.

“So sorry, everyone,” I apologize. “Went to the choir room first; you know how it is.”

Blaine, sitting atop the piano onstage, looks at me funny. “I texted you.”

“Phone’s dead,” I call to him. “Sincerest apologies, Blainers.”

He flashes me that big, bright Blaine Anderson smile. “No matter. Sit, sit. I have a thing.”

Mr. Schue turns around in his seat and claps twice. “Everyone, take a seat,” he orders. “Blaine has something very important to say—well, sing, I guess. No one knew we’d be having practice in here today. Sam and Blaine decided for us.”

Blaine nods, still smiling. “Thank you so much for accommodating my important thing. This is for a very special friend of mine, and I’ve got some a cappella backup singers to help me out. C’mon up, guys.”

“Oooh, looky, Anderboyfriend,” Santana whispers to me, careful not to let anyone else hear. “Looks like this one’s for you.”

Blaine is joined onstage by Finn, Mike, Sam, Puck, and Artie, who form an arc behind him. There’s a mic stand in front of Blaine, and he grabs it, turning around behind him. “Y’all good to go?” His backup singers nod at various rates of vigor—Finn is grinning like he’s injected black coffee straight into his veins, Sam is rolling his eyes fondly at Blaine, and Puck just looks high.

The five guys start in on their harmonies—well, every guy except Mike, who seems to have snagged the role of chief beatboxer. Blaine bops his adorable head, smiling like he just can’t help it. He wiggles his hips, winks at me, and starts to sing.

Clock strikes upon the hour, and the sun begins to fade

Still enough time to figure out how to chase my blues away

He is so cute. I knew that from the moment we met, but it never stops being true. Watching him up there—all hair gel and penny loafers and sweet smile—I fall even more in love with him.

I’ve done all right up ‘til now

It’s the light of day that shows me how

And when the night falls, my loneliness calls

Oh, I wanna take you away

Let’s escape into the music

DJ, let it play

I just can’t refuse it

Like the way you do this

Keep on rockin’ to it

Please don’t stop the, please don’t stop the, please don’t stop the—

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me

“C’mon, Kurt!” Blaine shouts, extending his hand to me and putting the mic back on the stand. I comply, rolling my eyes at my secret boyfriend and jumping onstage. Blaine takes my hand in his, spinning me around and around, then dips me when I least expect it.

“Whoa, honey, slow down.”

Blaine winks, grabbing the mic and singing directly to me. Sam, who is still harmonizing—somebody who, somebody who—grabs a stool from the edge of the stage and puts it out for me to sit on. Once I’m seated, Blaine uses his free hand to grasp mine. His skin is so soft, I think to myself.

Somebody who loves me, to hold me in his arms

I need a man who’ll take a chance on a love that burns hot enough to last

So, when the night falls, my lonely heart calls

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Oh, I like the way you do this

Keep on rockin’ to it

With somebody who loves me

With somebody who loves me

I’m overwhelmed by the love in Blaine’s eyes as he sings the last line while looking into mine.

He hugs me, right there in front of everyone, but I can tell he’s yearning to do more. Soon, baby, I promise. I can’t wait until I'm allowed to kiss him outside of the privacy of my house.

“I’m somebody who loves you,” I whisper in his ear.

“I love you, too, my darling,” he replies softly, “and I actually do have a question for you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” Blaine holds the mic up to his pillowy lips again. “So, Kurt Hummel,” he begins, getting down on one knee and producing a watermelon Ring Pop—my favorite—out of the pocket of his jeans, “will you go to prom with me?”

I smile like a besotted fool, staring into my secret boyfriend’s eyes as he slips the Ring Pop on my wedding finger amid thunderous applause from our friends.

“Blaine Anderson, I would love to go to prom with you.” I roll my eyes, loop my arms loosely around his neck, and lean in to kiss him on his perfect, soft, exfoliated cheek.

We walk offstage hand in hand, sitting back down together in the back row of the front section of the auditorium and half-listening as Mr. Schue passes out copies of a possible candidate for Nationals.

“You’re beautiful,” Blaine whispers in my ear, giving me the best kind of goosebumps all over my body.

“Sometime, you should take a look at the perfection that is you,” I retort, kissing his neck surreptitiously, “if you want to talk about beautiful.”

“I wish I could kiss you,” he sighs as I suck on an arbitrary spot on his neck.

“Come over tonight,” I purr in his ear. “You can kiss me as much as you want.”

“Seven-thirty?”

“Sounds perfect.”

♥ ♥ ♥

“Mmm, I love you,” Blaine moans, trailing his lips down my neck and across my collarbone. As promised, we’re kissing in my bed. “You taste so good.”

“You feel good, Blaine,” I breathe right into his ear. “Gonna have to wear a scarf tomorrow, aren’t I?” I joke.

“You love it,” he purrs, sliding his right hand down to my ass and pressing me back into the pillows, “and I love giving it to you.”

His voice is hoarse and gravelly, and the sensuality of it hits me like a ton of bricks. I squeeze his arms, roll him off of me, and sit up. “Blaine, can we—can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, sitting cross-legged and taking my hands in his.

“Anything, Kurt. What’s the matter?”

I sigh heavily. “Nothing, really,” I mutter, “it’s just that...I mean, we’ve been getting more adventurous lately, right?”

Blaine gasps. “Oh, my God, Kurt, I’m so sorry—I didn’t know—I’m just so attracted to you that it’s like...you know—”

“Blaine,” I chuckle, cutting him off. “Don’t worry, okay? I’ve definitely been enjoying it. It’s just...prom is coming up, and we’re going together, and we’re in love. I know Rachel’s dads reserved a block of hotel rooms for our group...and, I mean, we don’t have to, but—generally, prom is when people get...more adventurous? Even more than we are now?”

Blaine’s gaze softens, his mouth forming an O. “Kurt, do you want to—are you saying you want us to...get intimate? Like, seriously intimate?”

“I mean, yeah,” I blurt out. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I’m ready. Do you?”

“God, yeah,” he breathes, pulling me close and kissing me hard. His tongue slips into my mouth with ease, and I can’t help but groan into the kiss. There’s a new electricity between us now that we both know we want the same thing.

I can’t help but wonder, though, what Cooper will think when he finds out we’re going to prom together—I know that no matter what, he’s not going to be happy.

♥ ♥ ♥

The day before prom, Cooper comes back to school after a bad bout of the flu. During Glee practice in the choir room, Blaine and I sit on either side of him, and the three of us make incredibly stilted conversation for longer than any of us want to.

Hey, Coop, guess what? You know how you and I are pseudo-dating? Well, surprise! I’m going to prom with your brother, and he and I are planning on having sexual relations of some kind...you know, because we’ve been in love since we met. You okay with that?

Like hell he will be.

Blaine shoots me worried glances behind Cooper’s head, and that’s how I know he’s as scared as I am. Things have been good between them for long enough that finding out about us would drive Cooper up a wall. A spiky wall. A spiky wall of fire. I can’t put Blaine through that, so we have to be careful.

My phone buzzes as Mr. Schue lectures on the importance of perfecting our choreography. I’ve heard tell of a hellish invention called booty camp—hopefully, Schue has enough faith in us that we can just avoid that one.

Blainers: Coop and I talked last night and he said he wishes he could go to prom w you

Kurt Hummel: And what did you say?

Blainers: I said I felt bad he was grounded. Inconspicuous stuff...but then he said he was gonna sneak out and now im scared.

Kurt Hummel: So scared you forgot the apostrophe ;)

Blainers: Kurty im serious, we’d better take precautions or something, get the group in on this

Kurt Hummel: One step ahead of you.

I compose a message to Sam, Puck, Tina,  Santana, and Finn.

Kurt Hummel: So, since you are the only ones who know Blaine and I are together, I need to enlist your help. Apparently, Cooper is planning on attending prom regardless of the fact he’s grounded. Sneaking out, I guess. What I need you guys to do is find some way to make him let you know when he’s coming, k? Have him text you so you know when he’ll be there. Blaine and I don’t want to have to hide our relationship.

Santana Lopez: He’d never buy it if I did it, babyboo.

Puck: Me and Cooper aren’t friends...

Finn Hudson: Ditto what Puck said, sorry, bro :(

Tina Cohen-Chang: Ditto Puck and Finn.

Sam Evans: I can do it!!! :)

Thank God for Trouty Mouth, I think to myself, and thank God that Cooper is down there dancing right now, unable to see my screen.

It hits me then: this is the first time I’ve truly hated myself for manipulating him. I think back to what Santana said about how this all stemmed from his manipulation of her, Brittany, and Rachel, but...this feels different in a very bad way.

♥ ♥ ♥

By the time prom rolls around the next day, my worries have traveled to the back of my mind. Granted, that has to do in large part with the way Blaine looks in his tux as the parents—all except, of course, for Mr. and Mrs. Anderson—take pictures in Rachel’s foyer.

“You’re so gorgeous,” I whisper to my date—my date!—as we wrap our arms around each other and smile for the cameras.

“You’re a knockout yourself, my love,” he whispers back to me as we step out of the way so Mike and Tina can have their turn. I pull him down onto the couch by the fireplace, snuggling up to him.

“I’m glad we’re going to prom together. I didn’t even know sophomores could go.”

“Yeah, they changed that a few years ago because so many people date down at this school,” he chuckles. “Down in age, I mean. I’m glad, too, Kurty.”

Once pictures are over with, we all pile into the limo Rachel’s dads rented for us and head off to dinner, and then to the dance. The group of us walk in together, surveying the scene—it’s impressive. The senior ASB evidently decided on a Casino Royale-type theme, and it makes the venue look far swankier than it probably is. Blaine and I steer clear of the punch bowl; Puck has made no secret of his plans to spike it with Jager when Coach Sylvester isn’t looking.

I drag my unbearably handsome date out on the dance floor as the DJ starts to play the latest Flo Rida song. I get behind him, hands on his hips, and let him grind on me with boundless enthusiasm.

I’ve never had a guy grind on me before, and I’m kicking myself now; the year before I moved, Mercedes and I spent a good majority of our time on weekends in the teen club that was equidistant from our houses, but I never danced like that with any of the guys there.

This is amazing, though—knowing that it’s Blaine’s ass pressed against me, the ass I’ve likely spent hours staring at, the ass attached to the man I love, gives me a thrill like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

Just as we’re really starting to get into it, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I take Blaine’s hand, dragging him off to the side by the refreshments, and open the message from Sam.

Sam Evans: Cooper’s here. Better stop doing that :)

“What a guy,” Blaine deadpans. “Should we just chill on the couch or something?”

“Picture line,” I blurt out. “If we’re in the picture line, he’ll be hard-pressed to find us.”

Blaine nods, kissing my cheek. “My sweet little mastermind.” I take his hand, and we walk overto the far side of the ballroom to join the picture line. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Cooper, but I turn away as quickly as possible so as to prevent him from seeing me. Fate seems to have it out for me tonight, though, because he’s headed straight for us.

“Shit, he saw me,” Blaine whispers. “Shit, shit, shit—hey, bro! Thought you were grounded!”

Cooper, who is suddenly standing in front of us, rolls his eyes. “Like mom and dad actually give a shit. Hey, how come you guys are in the picture line? You didn’t—you’re not each other’s dates, or anything, right?” He looks at me expectantly.

I take a deep breath. “Well, um, you see—”

“Coop, I asked him,” Blaine confesses. “You were grounded—not to mention hella sick with the flu—and I wanted Kurt to have a fantastic first prom at McKinley. So, I asked him to go with me. You can be mad at me, but don’t be mad at him.”

Cooper shakes his head incredulously, covering his face with his hand. “Always the good Samaritan, Blainey,” he quips fondly. “I’m not mad at anyone. I mean, Kurt, it’s not like we’re married, and if you’re having fun at prom with my brother, who am I to stop you? It’s fine, guys.” Cooper nods his head, as if he’s trying to convince himself. “It’s fine.” He hugs Blaine first, and then me. He kisses my cheek, and the guilt intensifies tenfold. 

“Thanks, Cooper,” I whisper. He pulls away, nods at me again, and turns on his heel to walk the other way. Blaine and I are next up for pictures, and when that’s done, we walk back over to the couch, sitting down and putting our arms around each other.

“So...that was weird,” Blaine comments. “He was unusually calm. He’s the most dramatic person I know, and he took it all in stride. I don’t buy it.”

“Blaine, I feel awful,” I murmur, laying my head on his shoulder. “Every time Cooper sees us chumming it up, spending time together, the guilt I’m feeling deepens, and I just wish there were some way you and I could love each other without hurting your brother.”

Blaine gets quiet then, stroking my side with his thumb. “I do, too,” he says after a few minutes. “I love you, but this plan is pretty fucked up, Kurt. I know you had nothing to do with the inception of it, but I wish Rachel, Santana, and Brittany would have picked someone else to break Cooper’s heart.”

“I know it’s fucked up, and I want out. I’ve wanted out for so long, and I’ve even talked to Santana about it—”

My train of thought is cut off when I hear footsteps loud enough to overpower the music. I look up to see Cooper standing before us yet again.

“Blaine,” he says through gritted teeth, “can I speak to you alone?”

Blaine looks at me, worried, but I flash him a cheery thumbs up. He and Cooper walk outside, shutting the door behind them, and I’m overwhelmed with worry for the both of them. If I break up the Anderbrothers’ bond for good, I will never be able to forgive myself.

♥ ♥ ♥

Blaine doesn’t speak for the entire limo ride to the hotel; he just holds me in his arms and nuzzles my neck. I don’t push; I figure he’ll talk when he’s ready to talk.

Once we’re settled in our impossibly opulent room—seriously, I'm skeptical; as far as I know, we haven’t left the Lima city limits, and this looks like a New York hotel room—Blaine speaks.

“I was right not to buy it,” he says as he sheds his tux jacket and hangs it on a hook. “He’s mad.”

“What about?”

“Mostly that I didn’t tell him I was asking you. He said he would have been fine with it, since you and I are ‘just friends,’” Blaine explains, complete with air quotes.

“Of course,” I chuckle, having stripped down to a t-shirt and briefs. I fall back onto the bed. “Oh, Blaine, come lay on this. It’s like sleeping on a cloud.”

“Not changed yet,” he calls to me, his voice muffled by the t-shirt he’s putting on. He takes off his pants, smiles brightly at me, and flops onto the bed. “Holy shit, you’re right.”

I roll over to look at him. “Blaine, do you think he’ll keep being mad? Like, for a while? Does he have any inkling that we’re together?”

“He questioned your new habit of wearing scarves,” Blaine giggles, “you know, since it’s May and everything.”

“Smart cookie.”

“Yeah,” Blaine sighs. “I just keep hoping that we’ll be able to pull off some kind of you-break-up-with-him-and-date-me thing, with minimal backlash, but I just don’t know, Kurt.” He reaches out to sweep his thumb down the side of my face. “I do know a few things, though.”

I smile warmly at him. “And what would those be?”

He inches closer to me. “I had a great time with you tonight. You’re beautiful.” He kisses me, short but sweet. “I love you.” Another kiss. “And, Kurt Hummel, I’m going to give you something no one else will ever have.” He pulls me impossibly close to him, kissing the breath out of me. He rolls on top of me to straddle my hips, never once breaking the kiss. I grab onto his ass—I can totally do that now, I realize—and he groans, bucking his hips up into me and panting into my mouth.

“You feel so good,” Blaine moans, continuing to rub against me. “Can we—no clothes?”

“God, yes,” I breathe. “Can I, um, your...”

“Yeah,” Blaine nods. “What I love about this is that we’re both virgins with nothing to prove.”

I laugh as I rid him of his t-shirt and underwear, taking in every gorgeous inch of his naked body. “Takes the pressure off,” I agree. “It also helps that we love each other.”

He looks at me with the most ridiculous stars in his eyes as he gets me naked.

“We do.”

Once we’re both free of clothing, the foreplay—this is foreplay, right?— becomes easier, and rubbing against each other feels even better when both parties are naked. Blaine is leaving hickeys everywhere on me, and I just might have to invest in some kind of concealer.

“Do you want to—I mean, I could...God, I’ve never said these things before,”

Blaine chuckles, blushing. “Do you want to, um...I know we said we wouldn’t go all the way tonight, because we’re still kind of hiding from everyone, but...how far do you want to go, Kurt?”

“Maybe we could do, um...handjobs?” I suggest meekly, surprised to have been able to say the word out loud. “I’m a total virgin, so that’ll be new for me.”

Blaine grins. “I am, too. That sounds amazing. You always have the best ideas.” He trails a hand down my chest, to my stomach, down to my cock. He doesn’t waste any time, does he? He wraps his hand around me, stroking slowly at first. I’ve done this to myself countless times, but having someone else do it feels so different; so much better.

“Oh, Blaine,” I moan, thankful for the thick walls.

“Feel good?” he asks me.

“Amazing.” I reach out and begin to do the same to him with no warning. He collapses onto my shoulder, panting in my ear, whispering dirty words of encouragement as I stroke him faster and faster. We come simultaneously, kissing through the afterglow. I smile into the kiss, only to bump teeth with him because he’s doing the same.

“I really, really love you,” Blaine whispers.

“I really, really, really love you,” I murmur back to him, swallowing with a kiss whatever words were on the tip of his tongue, “and that was amazing.”

Blaine hums in agreement, burrowing his face in my neck. “It was,” he concurs.

“You’re amazing.”

I’m just about to tell him the same when he kisses me, slow and sweet, and makes me forget everything I know. He’s amazing that way, I muse, smiling to myself. And he’s mine.