Devils Don't Fly
Katranga
Chapter 4 Previous Chapter Story
Give Kudos Track Story Bookmark Comment
Report

Devils Don't Fly: Chapter 4


E - Words: 6,572 - Last Updated: Jun 01, 2014
Story: Complete - Chapters: 4/? - Created: Jun 01, 2014 - Updated: Jun 01, 2014
122 2 0 0 0


Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading!

They smoked into existence on an empty dirt road running through a forest made up of towering pine trees. Snow speckled the ground in uneven patches, and the ground was hard beneath Kurt's feet. The sun was also shining in his face and his teeth were chattering.

 

“Coat,” he ordered.


A dark blue parka appeared in Blaines hand and he held it out for Kurt to slide his arms through.


He zipped it up to his chin and commented, “I can't help but notice it's daytime.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and eyed Blaine expectantly.


“Um yeah, I don't actually control the earth's rotation around the sun, so…”


“How are we supposed to see the Northern Lights if it's not dark out?”


“We're in the very north of North America. Daylight lasts like two minutes.” He magicked up a coat for himself and then nodded at the forest ahead of them. “There should be a cliff up here that'll give us a good view.”


“Great. It'll give me a chance to stretch my legs.” Which just drew Blaines gaze down to Kurt's legs.


With pursed lips, he headed into the forest.


The air was chilly but it was also fresh, which was a welcome change from the stuffiness of Blaines room. Kurt took a deep breath, the crisp, cold air swirling all the way down into his lungs. He supposed he should enjoy all the time outdoors that he could get considering that after this week he'd probably be living in prison.


“Ugh,” he grunted just thinking about it.


“What? Did you twist your ankle?” Blaine asked.


“I'm fine,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. “I'm just going to go down in history as the idiot who helped the first captured demon escape. And my family is going to hate me.”


“What are you talking about?”


“Blaine, I'm gonna go to prison. My family and friends will not be happy.”


He waved a hand, like his concern was ridiculous. “You were the first person your dad asked for when he woke up from a coma, and Rachel lied to the Demon Cops for you. I think they'll stick around if you get arrested.”


Kurt hopped over a fallen tree in their path.


“I mean, those were good things, right?” Blaine asked when Kurt remained silent. “Good examples of human behaviour?”


“Yeah, they were actually.”


Blaine nodded to himself, pleased, and he smoked himself to the other side of the log.


“Wow, you're really lazy,” Kurt laughed in disbelief.


He grinned at him, and Kurt wasn't sure why he was so happy with that.


The light was bleeding out of the forest as the sun began to set, so Kurt continued walking at a faster pace.


“So my family will send me care packages in prison,” he said grimly. “That's something to look forward to.”


“Just tell them you were possessed,” Blaine shrugged.


“But you don't possess people.”


“We don't possess people often,” he corrected. “And the Demon Police aren't gonna know that. I've seen everything from adultery to murder get blamed on demonic possession. They'll have to believe you.”


“That could work,” he admitted.


“You're welcome.”


He held out a hand in a ‘slow down' gesture. “I'll thank you when it actually gets me out of prison.”


“Will you?” he asked curiously.


Kurt faltered. “What?”


“Will you talk to me again after this?”


He pressed his lips together tightly and jogged a few steps ahead. “Are we almost there?”


Blaine trudged up behind him, head down and pouting in the inky blue twilight of the forest.


“What do you want me to say? You're a demon.”


“I know.”


“Great. So can you transport us to this cliff now? Because I'm gonna trip over something.”


Blaine put a hand on his back. Kurt was never going to get used to being smoke.


The last rays of the sun were just disappearing behind the horizon when they arrived on a cliff jutting out high above a dark blue lake.


“This is a great view,” Kurt said, hand on his hips as he looked out at the landscape. “How do you know about this spot?”


“I was here a couple decades ago,” Blaine mumbled.


“Are you gonna sulk the whole time?”


“I'm not sulking,” he sulked.


Kurt spread his hands out wide. “Blaine, you are a demon. You tried to take my soul.”


Blaine stopped being sorry for himself long enough to look confused. “What? When?”


“The night we met!” he said incredulously. “When you got pissed that I wasn't expressing enough gratitude for the honour of sleeping with you.”


“Oh, yeah.” He shrugged, “I couldn't have taken your soul without you making a deal anyway.”


“But I felt it leaving my body.”


“Yeah but, it would never have come all the way out. It's like…” He snapped his fingers a few times like that would help him explain. “A rubber band? It just pops right back in place after a certain amount gets pulled out. Why do you think demons have to make deals for human souls?”


Kurt gaped at him. “So, that was just- what? A power play? To scare me?”


“I was also really pissed.”


“Well god forbid someone piss you off because they don't show enough enthusiasm over the idea of using sex with a demon as payment to save their father's life.” He ran a hand through his hair, and said, “God, you know how much that fucking scared me? It felt like I was dying.”


“I'm sorry.”


“Well you fucking should be! Do you even understand why it upset me, or is that beyond your shitty grasp of human emotion?”


“Demons feel fear, Kurt,” he said with a bite to his tone. “And I have no excuse for what I did to you other than that I'm a demon, and that's what we do. But I understand why you don't want to see me again, for both practical and emotional reasons. So I'm sorry that me sulking pisses you off, but another emotion that demons can feel is sad, and I am sad.”


His voice trembled on the last work, and he turned his back to Kurt.


Despite himself, Kurt got roped in. “You're sad?”


“Sad, disappointed, whatever,” he said dully. “I didn't mean to expect anything, and then I did, and now I just feel stupid. So. I'm sorry.”


Kurt had never been more confused in his life because those fucking PSAs never warned him for this. Demons can definitely feel emotion and they can tug at your heartstrings and that is fucking bullshit. Kurt didn't want to feel guilty for making a demon sad.


How dare Blaine have feelings? More importantly, how dare he have feelings for Kurt?


Blaines gelled hair suddenly took on an emerald sheen, and Kurt looked to the sky above them, in front of them, all around them. Beautiful waves of green light were leaking out of the stars into the dark night sky.


He placed a hand on Blaines shoulder. “It's starting.”


To the surprise of no one, Blaine set his attention on Kurt instead of nature's most mysterious light show.


The half of his face that wasn't bathed in shadows was green, which was disconcerting but not as bad as when his eyes were nothing but pitch black.


He still looked really fucking sad.


“Blaine, just watch this natural wonder with me, okay?” he sighed.


He nodded. “Whatever you want, Kurt.”


Kurt slid his arm around Blaines shoulders, because he was cold and maybe also because he wanted Blaine to cheer up a bit. Blaine tucked himself into his side and the world was quiet as ribbons of light danced across the sky.


“Did you hate it?” Blaine asked after a while. “When we were together that night?”


Blood rushed to Kurt's cheeks as he remembered the feeling of Blaines eager body wrapped around him. He'd been in the middle of a dry spell when they had their encounter, so he'd gotten a little more enthusiastic than he'd expected he would be. But Blaines little uh uh uh noises that matched Kurt's thrusts had kept him lying awake more than once in the months since.


He hoped Blaine couldn't feel his whole body rise in temperature.


“No, I didn't hate it,” he murmured.


“Good.”


There was a pop behind them as Santana appeared. Kurt had never heard a demon's arrival before, but as soon as he saw her face he was sure the sound happened because she was frothing with rage.


“There you fucktards are,” she snapped. “I have been looking everywhere for you. How dare you jump off without telling me, we are in the middle of a rescue mission, this is no time for romantic dates in Canada, we have to go!”


“What the hell are you talking about?” Blaine asked after she'd finished her tirade.


“They're moving Jessie tonight. Like now. We gotta jet, losers.”


“Now?” Kurt repeated.


“Did I fucking stutter?”


“But why?”


“Some religious crackpots tried to set his cage on fire. They're moving him now before anyone else tries something as stupid as lighting up an iron cage.” She glared at them expectantly. “What're you waiting for? New York. Now!”








Blaine and Kurt arrived in the shadows of trees in Central Park.


Behind them Santana whispered, “See, they're already packing him away.”


Jessie's cage was being lifted into an armoured truck, with at least fifteen armed guards overseeing the process.


“We need to get in position,” Kurt said.


“They're still taking him to headquarters, right?”


“I don't know, why don't you ask them?” Santana said. “Better yet, stop asking stupid questions.”


“I'm sure they will,” Kurt said, ignoring her. “But if not, we'll improvise.”


“And by ‘improvise' I hope you mean kill everyone in sight.”


“You know I don't.”


“Okay, come on,” Blaine said, taking hold of Kurt's arm again. “Let's go.”


“Remember, you have to land-” Kurt's voice was almost drowned out by the sudden wind. “-carefully.”


Kurt's grip tightened on Blaines arm, for good reason. They were perched on top of a bridge, and while there was plenty of room on the vertical arch they were standing on, it was still very high up.


They planned to intercept the Demon Police coming in from Brooklyn, long before they boarded the boat to headquarters. Too many things could go wrong on open water, and their plan was already teeming with risks.


“Okay, I'm sitting down.” Kurt carefully lowered himself to the ground and crossed his legs beneath himself. Blaine joined him and put a hand on Kurt's knee to keep them both invisible, on the off chance that someone looked up and saw their silhouettes lit up by the cable lights. Kurt glanced at his hand before looking at the bright traffic below them. “Okay, so. Watch. Bolt cutters. Taser.”


As Kurt listed the supplies they'd decided on beforehand, Blaine conjured them up into a pile beside them.


Kurt peered at the pocket watch and said, “If all goes as planned, they should arrive in about half an hour.”


Santana was following the convoy's progress, and would alert them if there were any changes.


“Are you okay? Are you warm enough?” Do you wanna put your arm around my shoulders again?


“Surprisingly, this wind isn't as cold as northern Canada,” he said dryly. “I'm fine.”


“Okay.” Kurt started opening and closing the bolt cutters and Blaine said, “Lucky we had this all planned out early, huh?”


“Yeah, let's just hope that luck will hold out and the plan will actually work.”


Blaine squeezed his knee to reassure him, before immediately saying, “Sorry.”


He still didn't know how much of his touch Kurt was comfortable with.


“It's okay,” Kurt said. “I think we've established by now that you're not gonna try anything without my permission.”


The weight of Kurt's trust buoyed in his chest like a balloon. He'd still leave him, and that was okay, but maybe Kurt would look back on this rescue one day and remember Blaine fondly.


“What are you smiling about?”


“I just think I'm gonna miss you, is all.”


“You think you're gonna miss me?”


He shrugged. “We'll see. I might stop missing you eventually.”


Kurt bit his lip and looked down at the cars passing beneath them. “Why do I always feel like you're being so honest with me?”


“Probably because I am.”


“I thought demons were deceptive.”  He peeked at him slyly, “Or is that another myth commonly misinterpreted?”


“No, that's true,” he said.  “But I never would have benefited from deceiving you, so I didn't.”


“Oh.” He looked kind of put-out but Blaine was yet again confused by the complexities of human emotion.


On the ground below, NYPD cops started blocking off the bridge, forcing drivers to travel down to the lower level. It was a security measure Kurt had been very happy with. If he was unenthusiastic with the thought of hurting Demon Cops, then he absolutely forbade any harm coming to civilians. His blatant regard for human life kind of made sense to Blaine because sure- the continuation of your species is important. But on the other hand, the Earth was exploding with humans and they were going through natural resources at the speed of light.


A couple hundred dead on a bridge wasn't gonna hurt anything.


“They should be here in ten minutes,” Kurt said. “And Santana should check in with us soon.”


Santana had to give Blaine fire for him to use. It burned hotter than earthen fire, so it would work better than using fire from a blowtorch, like Kurt had proposed while they were planning. Santana had almost laughed him out of the meeting for suggesting it.


Kurt turned so that all his attention was on Blaine. “Look, I don't know if there'll be time to talk after this- probably not. So I just wanted to thank you.”


Blaine was so baffled that he doubted he knew the correct definition of ‘thank you' for a moment.


“For what? This is all my fault.”


“It's not you I'm running from.”


“But if I hadn't talked to you at the cage, the cops never would have been after you in the first place,” Blaine replied. “You said so yourself.”


“Well, I didn't have to talk to you,” he said with a shrug. “I don't actually blame you for that, Blaine. I mean, you helped me- you puffed me out of existence with you instead of leaving me behind. You did a lot of nice things that I never would have expected from a demon.” He closed his cold fingers around Blaines hand and continued, “These past couple days could have been a lot worse than they were, and I want to thank you for making them bearable.”


Blaine shook his head slowly. “I just wanted you to like me. You shouldn't be thanking me.”


Kurt smiled, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “By some crazy twist of fate, I do like you, Blaine.” He ducked his head and said, “And maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing if you stopped by to visit me every once in a while after this. If I don't end up in prison, that is.”


He tried to keep the stupidly huge grin off his face, but he was not successful. “As long as you're not wearing iron, I'll break you out.”


He squeezed his hand. “I hope I won't have to take you up on that offer.”


Santana appeared in a crouch beside Blaine. “Everything's on schedule and- oh god, did I interrupt another heartfelt moment between you two? Can you keep your dicks in your pants for just a little longer?”


Kurt scowled. “How many vans?”


“Only three, one less than we planned for. I probably won't have to blow any up now,” she pouted.


“Great. Fire?” Kurt asked expectantly.


“Hey, don't forget who's in charge here, Meat Bag,” Santana said as two balls of fire grew in her hands. She pressed them together into one large sphere bigger than a beach ball and passed it to Blaine.


Kurt moved his hand to Blaines back to keep invisible, but also leaned as far away as he could to save himself from the heat.


“Alright losers. You get the front tires, and I'll melt all the doors shut. Think you can handle it?”


“Yes.” Blaine rolled his eyes.


Santana pointed a claw at Kurt. “Remember, all you gotta do is cut some iron, so if this falls apart it's your fault.”


“That is false reasoning-” Kurt tried to argue.


“Shh, they're coming.”


The first shiny black armoured van rolled onto the bridge. It was go time.


“Okay, I'm gonna take out the NYPD keeping watch on either side of the bridge, and when I give the signal, start blasting tires.”


“Wait, the Taser!” Kurt exclaimed, pressing it to her chest. It was the only way he'd agreed to let her incapacitate people.


Her annoyed groan was cut off halfway through by her blinking out of sight.


Kurt grabbed the bolt cutters and stood up along with Blaine. They watched silently as the vans made their way past the first arch to the middle of the bridge.


A small flame of light bloomed on the walkway behind the last car.


“Go!” Kurt shouted unnecessarily.


Following Santana's signal, Blaine started rapidly shooting balls of fire at the front tires so they were stuck in the middle of the road. Santana bounced rapidly around the convoy, lobbing flames at the doors to melt the handles and render them unopenable.


When Blaine was out of fire, he took Kurt's hand. “Ready?”


“Yeah.”


They appeared at the back of the second truck, about ten feet away from the last one.


“Where's Santana?” Kurt asked.


“At your service,” she quipped before blasting the fingerprint pad off the back door.


Blaine and Santana stood back and Kurt tugged the doors open.








So, Kurt never had to wonder what staring down the barrel of two rifles felt like.


In a word, terrifying.


Almost as terrifying as watching the head of the man who held one of the guns spin around on his neck until a crack echoed through the back of the van. The body had barely thumped to the ground before the second guard's head exploded in flame.


He yelped, jumping away from the van. “Guys!” he screeched at the demons behind him.


Blaines hands were spread, and his eyes wide. “I panicked.”


“I enjoyed,” Santana smirked.


Powering through his horror, Kurt jumped into the van, careful not to step on either of the corpses littering the floor. The only way this mission was going to work is if they were fast. The Demon Cops trapped in the vans were undoubtedly already calling for back up. Kurt had no time to mourn lost lives.


“Can we still keep in touch?” Blaine called out hesitantly.


“Not the time!” He held his hand over his nose, trying not to gag on the smell of burnt human flesh. “Can you get them out of here?”


He focused on the cage in front of him as Blaine yanked a guard onto the road.


Kurt took a deep breath of determination, regretted it, and then crammed the bolt cutters around the lock that held a pair of glass, iron-laced doors together. He pushed down hard, forcing the lock open. He tossed it to the floor and banged on the second set of doors, these ones iron-barred.


The demon inside of the cage remained immobile. Maybe he was dead. Could demons die?


“How's it going, Kurt?” Blaine asked anxiously.


“He's not moving,” he replied, preparing to cut open the second lock. “He's not faking, is he? He's not gonna jump out and attack me when I open the doors?”


“No!” Blaine said. “Just get him to agree to the deal before you release him. But hurry!”


He broke open the lock. “Are they coming?” he asked.


“Yeah.”


“There's a helicopter!” Santana announced with delight.


Kurt knelt down next to Jessie, confused about why she was so happy until he heard the whoosh of her flames.


“It's goin' down!” she cried.


“Goddamnit,” he muttered, yanking the blindfold and gag off of Jessie.


He moaned but didn't open his eyes. His mouth was bright red, like he'd just eaten a whole box of cheap candy, ad his skin felt soft and mushy.


A huge splash sounded outside- the helicopter falling into the Hudson River.


Kurt slapped Jessie across the face.


“Ah, whuh?” His eyelids fluttered open. His pupils looked like they were dripping into his irises, which were an electric blue.


Kurt was very sure this demon was dying.


“He is not looking good,” Kurt called to Blaine.


“Same!” he replied just before a volley of bullets ricocheted off one side of the van.


“Shit!” He grabbed Jessie by the collar. “Jessie, I wanna make a deal!”


He opened his mouth and it seemed to take an eternity for him to mumble out, “A deal?”


“Yes. My name is Kurt Hummel. If I break you out of this cage I want you to release Rachel Berry from fulfilling her deal with you.”


He blinked as slow as molasses. “Rachel?”


“Yes, release her from honouring her contract and I'll get you out of this cage!” Kurt shouted as Santana shrieked gleefully outside.


“Okay, fine,” he groaned. “Deal.”


Kurt didn't have time for anything else. He snapped the chain connecting his manacles to the cage and dug his arms underneath Jessie's armpits.


He dragged him out of the van onto the road, where the two corpses were piled. Everything smelled like burning- gasoline, metal, rubber, flesh.


“Let's go!” Kurt exclaimed.


Blaine looked over his shoulder from where he was hiding behind the third truck, now somehow laying on its side only a few feet from where they were.


“He's still got those manacles on,” he said.


“So?”


“So they're iron! I can't do jack shit with iron, Kurt!”


“You can't transport him?”


“Jack. Shit.” A Demon Cop crept around the corner of the van Blaine was leaning against, trying to get a good shot. Blaine had a better one, and shot him in the chest with a semi-automatic rifle.


“You're using a gun?” Kurt asked incredulously.


He toed at one of the corpses at his feet. “Better used on these guys than on you.” He checked the other side of the van for approaching hostiles and said, “And I know you said not to hurt them but- what're you waiting for, get the iron off him!”


Kurt leapt back into the van to grab the bolt cutters he'd left behind, but he already had a bad feeling about them. They were too clunky- the manacles were three inches wide. He clumsily tried to get the bolt cutter between Jessie's wrist and the manacle, like he was trying to cut through a wristband, but it was no use.


“I need something else, Blaine,” he said.


“What do you need?”


“I don't know!”


“I can't summon something when you don't know what it is,” he replied in irritation.


As Kurt wracked his brain for a useful tool, an explosion rocked the bridge.


“What was-?”


“Santana is lighting everything on fire, I think she hit a gas tank,” he said quickly.


Speak of the devil- er, demon.


“This is fun!” Santana enthused, rubbing her hands together. “Blaine, why did I stop participating in human wars? It's been so boring.”


A bullet whizzed past her shoulder. She disappeared, Kurt screamed, and Blaine spun around to fire at the shooter.


“What're you yelling about? They're only firing iron-secreting bullets,” Blaine asked once he was huddled behind the van again.


“Yes?” Kurt didn't understand the question.


“Iron's not gonna hurt you, you have iron in your blood already.”


Kurt violently shook his head. “That's not the same! If a liquid metal ends up in my veins, I will suffer horribly and then die.”


Blaine stared at him in shock. “How do humans survive?”


Santana reappeared between the two of them. “Okay, so wars were more fun when humans didn't have bullets that could actually hurt me,” she admitted. “We can get out of here now.”


“Oh, wow thanks, we were just waiting for you!” Kurt cried.


So glad you're enjoying yourself,” Blaine said. “Are you sure you don't want blow up a few more vehicles?”


She held her hands up to ward off the onslaught of sarcasm. “What is the problem?”


“Blaine, can I have a saw, please?”


Kurt held up his new handsaw, held up Jessie's wrist, and very pointedly dragged the sharp teeth along the iron. “Are you seeing the problem now?”


“Shit! Well get those off him!”


Kurt had to literally swallow back his rage.


The scene was suddenly lit harshly from above. “This is the New York Bureau of Demon Affairs,” a loud voice announced. “We have you surrounded.”


“That would be another helicopter,” she said. “I'll be back in a bit.”


“Oh god, I'm so going to jail for this,” Kurt moaned, futilely sawing at Jessie's manacle.


“That's not working,” Blaine said.


“I'd noticed.”


He dug his fingers into his hair and groaned, “Why don't you know how to do this?”


He threw the saw to the ground. “I don't know, I guess I thought if I'd ever need to know how to get handcuffs off someone, I'd have the internet!” He pulled out his phone. “Do you think the cops will wait for the YouTube video to buffer?”


The scene went dark, the helicopter spotlight no longer illuminating them. Then there was a deafening explosion, and Blaines horrified face was lit for another moment.


Santana came back, face streaked with soot. “Kinda wanna get out of here!”


“Santana!” Blaine screamed.


A helicopter door crashed on top of the van Blaine had been using as cover. Kurt turned around, even though he really didn't want to, and saw the flaming body of the helicopter sliding out of the sky towards them.


With a hugely annoyed groan, Blaine stood up and swept the helicopter in the direction of the river. The tail of it nicked the arch they'd been sitting on less than ten minutes ago, and the resulting metal-on-metal screech made Kurt cover his ears. Shards of red-hot shrapnel cascaded downward and burned through his jeans.


The helicopter crashed into the water and Santana shrugged widely. “Okay, that might have been on me. I let it get a little too close.”


If looks could kill.


“Santana,” Blaine began, fists clenched.


“Never mind! Just cut off his fucking hands, we need to get out of here,” Kurt said.


Blaine and Santana shared a short glance before a katana appeared in each of their hands.


“Hey, no,” Jessie mumbled as they laid his arms out flat on the pavement.


He didn't get a chance to scream as they sliced though his wrists. Santana had Jessie gone in an instant.


Blaine took a moment to grin at Kurt, which was a mistake.


Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt caught sight of a blur of silver on a direct path to his chest.


Blaine did too.


He wasted a second reaching for Kurt, but he was too far away to close the distance between them. He appeared in front of Kurt in an instant, but the bullet lodged itself in his back before he could transport them away.


Blaines eyes bulged, and Kurt froze, his heart stopping mid-beat.


“Ow,” Blaine said weakly.


Thunk.


Another bullet hit him, jerking him forward into Kurt's arms.


“Fuck. Shit, I can- I can dig them out, turn around,” Kurt said, throat tight.


Thunk.


Thunk.


Blaine curled his arms around his torso as he wheezed into Kurt's neck.


“You're fine, you're fine,” Kurt said, cradling the back of his head. “You saved me, you're gonna be fine.”


Blaine tightened his hold on Kurt and ground out, “You gotta tell them- tell them you were possessed.”


“Blaine, you're fine,” he repeated even as Blaines skin went mushy against his palm, just like Jessie's had been after three days in that iron cage. His pupils might have been doing that weird melting thing too, but Kurt couldn't really tell through the hot tears in his eyes. He hiccupped through a deep breath. “You're fine.”


“Don't cry.” He lifted his head and said, “You'll be okay.”


He sobbed. “Blaine, please. You're fine.”


“Actually, Kurt, this really hurts.”


Kurt kissed him, his wet lips sliding against Blaines for just a moment before he disintegrated, turning into smoke and drifting away on the wind.








The Demon Police had been pretty sceptical about Kurt's claim of possession, but they had no way to prove him wrong. Even so, he wasn't released from interrogation for two weeks, and it would have been longer if his dad hadn't leaned on some friends in Congress. His dad's influence was also the reason why he wasn't riddled with bullet wounds as soon as Blaine disappeared and no longer functioned as an impromptu human shield.


Kurt didn't tell his dad anything he hadn't told the Demon Cops, but Burt wasn't dumb. He didn't push Kurt for more information though, which Kurt was grateful for. Burt had a way of getting Kurt to spill truths he never intended to reveal, and Burt did not need to know how hard Kurt had fallen for a demon.


He told Rachel everything that was relevant to her situation and even though he hadn't revealed everything, she was still pissed. ‘Reckless' ‘dangerous' and ‘irresponsible' were all words she threw at him after he told Rachel what he'd done for her.


He wanted to distract himself with work, but when he tried to show up at Vogue the Monday following his release, Isabelle sent him straight back home so he could ‘recuperate' from his ‘traumatizing ordeal'.


So, with Burt and Carole back in Lima and with Rachel at Broadway, Kurt had a silent apartment and a restless mind.


He was flipping aimlessly through channels and considering putting on some movie with Meg Ryan so that he could justify his crying if Rachel came home early when he felt a sharp slap on the back of his head.


“I transport out of there thinking that you two would do the same,” Santana snapped. Kurt spun around on the couch to face her, but she'd already moved in front of him in an instant. “Was that stupid of me? To expect that either of you would show an ounce of common sense?”


“Santana,” he said, shocked. “Is- is he okay?”


“Would I be here if he was?” she asked with a sneer. “What the fuck happened after I tore outta there with Jessie?”


Kurt swallowed past a hard lump in his throat. “They shot him. Four times.” His gaze fell to the floor. “He saved me.”


She clasped her hands together and snarled, “Aw, how cute! Now he's gonna sleep for a couple hundred years and all I got out of the deal is Jessie!”


“The two of you also killed like fifty people,” he muttered.


She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Fuck, I can't believe I went through all of this just to save Jessie. I mean, yeah- solidarity and pride and keeping the secrecy of demonic existence too, but whatever.”


“Is Jessie alright?” Kurt asked because he didn't know what else to say.


She waved a hand. “Like you care about his wellbeing.”


“Well, Blaine died saving him, so-”


“Just because your poorly constructed human body won't survive to see him again doesn't mean he's dead,” she cut him off.


No, but he was as good as dead to Kurt.


He fiddled with the sleeve of his sweater and then asked tentatively, “When you see him again, can you tell him-?”


“Meat Bag, I'm not even gonna remember your existence in a hundred years.” She laughed to herself. “And neither will Blaine.”


She vanished, and Kurt barely had the When Harry Met Sally DVD playing before he was sobbing on the couch.








Kurt demanded that Isabelle let him back to Vogue the next week. He needed to return to his normal life, the one that was free of demons except for the PSAs that were full of crap and the occasional news report that he never paid attention to anyway.


He consoled himself with the knowledge that Blaine was fine- or would be fine at least. He was drifting along in hell with no pain or problems and one day he would wake up and continue on with his existence no worse for wear. Kurt would be long dead, but that would be okay.


Or so he kept repeating to himself as he made brownies alone and listened to his Absolutely-No-Love-Songs-Allowed playlist, which Rachel didn't understand why he had because he didn't know how to tell her that he'd fallen in love with-


A loud crack sounded behind him, like thunder had gone off in the middle of his kitchen. He spun around, getting real annoyed with random supernatural entities popping into his apartment without so much as a knock, and then he saw who had appeared.


The bowl of brownie batter slipped out of his hands and Blaine smiled at him softly.


“Hey,” he said with a little wave. He was wearing all white, from his soft-looking sweater to his bright slacks and shining shoes. “We left the whole keeping-in-touch thing on an affirmative, right?”


Shaking himself out of his shock, Kurt raced around the kitchen island and threw his arms around Blaines neck.


 “You were dead?” he asked incredulously.


Blaine hugged him back, his hands warm and sure on his shoulders.


“Turns out,” he said, face buried in Kurt's neck, “when a demon falls in love with a human, they became an angel.”


Kurt pulled back just far enough to gape at him.


“I know, right? Bullshit.”


He let out a shocked laugh to offset the tears forming in his eyes. “I'm so sorry that your love for me turned out to be such an inconvenience to you,” he said.


Instead of responding, Blaine took Kurt's face in his hands and pressed his lips to his- for only a moment before he pulled back to ask, “This is okay, right? I don't want to make you-”


“I'm not uncomfortable,” he said before yanking him back to his mouth.


Blaine let out a sigh and melted into Kurt's arms.


They'd kissed before, but once was under duress and once was when Blaine was dying and his lips had literally disappeared from under Kurt's. This was the only time it felt right and whole, like Kurt was getting put back together instead of torn apart.


“No but.” Blaine pulled back and Kurt whined at the sudden loss. He squeezed Kurt's hip and said, “Sorry, it's just that angels don't get to fuck around like demons do. I have a schedule to follow and I'm not even allowed to be here. I don't know when they're gonna notice I'm gone, but they could be popping me back to the angel realm any minute now.”


“Any minute?” Kurt repeated, aghast.


“Yeah, I'm really sorry-”


“Take off your clothes.”


“What?”


Kurt deftly unbuttoned his own shirt as he said, “I want to have sex with you. Not as a term of some demon deal and scared out of my mind, but because I love you and you saved me and you died and I thought I was never gonna see you again.”


Blaines eyes went wide, like he never expected to ever see anything as amazing as Kurt.


“I love you too,” he breathed.


Kurt smiled. “I know. Now get naked.”


His sweater got caught around his head in his haste and Kurt helped him tug it off the rest of the way. He dropped it on the floor and then reattached their mouths as he undid Blaines fly.


He started shoving Blaines pants down his hips and then asked, “Hey, can't you do this faster than I can?”


Blaine heaved an annoyed sigh. “I don't have that power anymore.”


“What?”


“I'm on some sort of angel probation until I prove I can use the power ‘responsibly'.” He used finger quotes to express the depths of his disdain.


Kurt yanked Blaines pants down to his ankles. “We'll just have to make do.”


Blaine used Kurt's shoulder for support as he stepped out of his pants. He reached for his lips and Kurt took his hand to lead him towards the living room. Blaine didn't stop kissing him until Kurt sat down against the arm of the couch.


He trailed his hands down Kurt's chest to the button of his pants and fumbled it open. “Ugh, I'm gonna see what I can do about turning back into a demon. This is ridiculously overcomplicated.”


Kurt laughed and lifted his ass to help the struggling Blaine get his jeans and underwear down his legs. “These aren't even my tightest pants.”


Kurt was finally naked and Blaine was kneeling between his legs, looking extremely comfortable there.


“Okay, well that could have been worse.” Pleased with his progress, Blaine smoothed his warm palms along Kurt's inner thighs. “Maybe I could even try being a human.”


“Is that possible?” Kurt asked, stopping his attempt to discreetly shift his erection closer to Blaines lips. This was an important conversation that unfortunately couldn't wait because Blaine might disappear at any moment. However, that meant that time was of the essence in regards to the naked part of the situation, too.


“I have no idea.”


“Okay, well keep me updated.” He coughed pointedly and asked, “Are we done talking now?”


Blaine dropped a hot kiss to his hipbone, cheek grazing the side of Kurt's erection. “Is that a hint?”


“You said we didn't have a lot of time, Blaine,” he said, twisting his fingers through his hair.


He smiled up at him. “I'm so glad you love me.”


And then he downed Kurt in one go.


“Oh my god!” he yelped.


Blaine raised an eyebrow at him as if to say ‘No time to waste' and started working his mouth over Kurt's cock.


Kurt let out a shuddering breath and couldn't help but pump his hips up into Blaines mouth. Blaine moaned, encouraging him. Kurt tilted his head back and allowed himself to fully enjoy all of Blaines efforts to please him. The first time they'd had sex had felt good, but Kurt had been so distracted, so conflicted. Now there were no conflicts, just pleasure. And love.


And a time limit.


He tugged Blaine off by his hair and said, “C'mon up here, I wanna feel more of you.”


His plump red lips spread into a smile. “Whatever you say.”


He hopped to his feet and started kissing him before Kurt could even pull him onto the couch. Blaine chased after his mouth as they fell backwards, landing on the cushions in a pile of mismatched limbs.


Neither of them were willing to stop kissing or groping in order to arrange themselves in a more comfortable position, so it took a few minutes until Blaine was settled in Kurt's lap. His thighs were warm and solid against Kurt's as he slid forward closer so that their cocks lined up against each other's.


“Mm, where's your lube?” Blaine moaned against his lips.


“In my room.”


“Why?”


“You want me to keep it in the living room I share with Rachel?”


Blaine twisted his hips down against Kurt's and groaned. “No, I want to be able to summon it to my hand.”


He grabbed Blaines ass, encouraging him to grind his cock against his and panted, “Well, welcome to the real world.”


Blaine spit on his hand and wrapped his fingers around the two of them. “Fuck that.”


“Oh, fuck me,” Kurt sighed, bucking up into Blaines hold.


Blaine kissed him, open-mouthed and wet, as he moved above him. Kurt held Blaine close, one arm around his back and the other hand on his ass, squeezing in synch with the roll of his hips. Their movements were quick, jerky. They didn't know how long they had together and didn't have the luxury of trying to make it last.


Kurt,” Blaine whined, his grip tightening between them.


Kurt dug his fingers into his shoulder, panting into his ear, “That's it. C'mon, Blaine.”


Blaines head dropped to his shoulder and he moaned into Kurt's neck as he came. He shifted back and used his come for lube as he stroked Kurt faster, tighter. His breathing quickened as Blaine mouthed lazily over his throat.


“Wanna make you feel good,” he said, lips hot on his skin. “Wanna make you come, Kurt. Love you so much.”


Kurt came with a cry, his grip tightening on Blaine. After a moment, he found Blaines lips and they began to exchange slow kisses. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine tightly, keeping his soft skin beneath his palms because he expected him to disappear at any moment.


When Blaine was still with him a minute later, he lifted his head from Kurt's shoulder and asked, “So what's new with you?”


He chuckled quietly and said, “Well, I'm not in prison, so pretty good.”


Blaines sweaty face lit up with a grin. “Possession worked?”


“Possession worked.”


“I think you owe me a thank you, then,” he said smugly.


Kurt rolled his eyes but didn't get a chance to respond before Blaine vanished and he was left alone and cold in his apartment.


He sighed. “Thank you, Blaine.”


Blaine popped back into the room and rushed out, “You're welcome. I'm sorry. I love you!” in one breath before disappearing again.


Kurt smiled. They'd make it work.


Comments

You must be logged in to add a comment. Log in here.