I should know,

‘Cause I'd spend all the whole day

Listening to your message I'm keeping

And never deleting.

When I saw you,

Everyone knew

I liked the effect that you had on my eyes. 

            Blaine pushed open the door to the apartment, letting out a laugh at his mother as she waddled after him with her six bags of groceries she insisted on buying him.

            “Blaine! You literally have no food! How do you even stay alive? That boyfriend of yours obviously doesn't try and feed you.” She'd clicked her tongue at him as she spun in the kitchenette, eyeing the loaves of bread and four boxes of Kraft Dinner in the cupboard.

            “That's because he's not my boyfriend,” Blaine mumbled, pulling open the fridge to try and make a point that they did in fact have food somewhere. His face fell when he realized all they had was a case of beer, a jug of milk and half a pound of butter.

            “Fine, you're roommate sucks at being a roommate.”

            “He does not,” he grumbled, eyes trained on the floor. “He's just... been busy with his own problems.”

            “Obviously not problems about not eating.”

            “His girlfriend is pregnant and he hasn't even been home for a few days.”

            “So it's your fault there's no food in this house.” Kylie gave him the evil eye and he shrunk against the counter, giving her a little half-smile.

            “Sorry?”

            They were putting away all the new material when his mother spoke up. “So, do you have a boyfriend? I mean, you must considering you're just so damn handsome.” As she passed him, she pinched his cheek and Blaine groaned.

            “You're my mother, not my grandmother. You're not old enough to be pinching my cheeks.” She chuckled and he smiled. It felt good to be around someone that wasn't Kurt or Christian. It felt good to have his mom back. “But uh, yeah. I do.”

            Kylie swivelled to face him, lifting an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

            Blaine's face heated up and he ducked his head, turning to shove bags of bread in the freezer to avoid his mother's eyes. “His name's Kurt. We dated in high school until he went to university and now we're back together.”

            Kylie made a sort of cooing noise, fingers brushing his arm as she stood beside him. “Do I get to see a picture? Is he cute?”

            “Yes, and yes.” Blaine dug his phone out of his pocket just as it vibrated. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered.

            “Boyfriend?”

            “Yeah.” Blaine sucked his lower lip into his mouth, blushing down at his phone. His mother gave an excited giggle, turning to finish with the groceries.

            Are you busy? Rachel's pissed at me and I need to get out of here.

            “You're still showing me a picture. When do I get to meet him? How is he?”

            Blaine froze, eyes trailing up to rest on Kylie. “You want to meet him?”

            “Of course I do; I want to meet the boy who makes my baby happy.” She gave him a warm, loving smile over her shoulder. “And answer my question, you butthead. How is he?”

            “Oh, my roommate is his best friend's –the pregnant one- boyfriend, so he's dealing with a lot of drama there. He just asked if he could come see me.”

            “Oh honey, I can leave! I don't want to smother you and we have a lunch date soon anyways.”

            “Mo—“

            “I'll just go.” She was already backing out of the kitchen.

            “Mom—“

            “Get your man. And be safe!” she shouted before pulling the door closed behind her. Blaine sucked in a slow breath and let it out with a laugh.

            No, I'm not busy. What did you do to summon the wrath of Rachel onto you? Blaine put away the rest of the groceries, moving to sit down on the couch and tucking his legs under himself.

            It's my fault Christian found out. Can I come over? I'm afraid she might try to shave my head.

            Blaine glanced around the room, taking in the book lying open on the coffee table, the empty tea mugs, movie cases piled beside the television when he was too lazy to put them away. Yeah, yeah sure. My house is a mess, you have been warned.

            I'll be right over.

            Okay, awesome. I eagerly await your arrival. How long was Kurt going to be? How quickly did right over mean? He looked like shit, and Kurt was coming right over. Blaine made a noise he would deny until the day he died as he half-fell off the couch, rushing down the hallway and slamming the bathroom door closed. He needed a shower. His hair was a mess, he probably smelled absolutely miserable and his mother didn't want to say anything.

            Blaine threw off his clothes faster than any man on the planet and jumped in the shower before it'd warmed up and started screaming at the cold.

            Blaine stumbled out of the bathroom, one towel wrapped around his waist with another draped over the top of his head. Clothes. He wasted time in the shower just trying to get the right temperature, and then he realized he was out of shampoo and had to go digging in the cupboard below the sink for more, figuring out too late that he didn't have any extra and ended up having to use Christian's which smelled like a shitty car freshener and weird Christmas trees.

            Blaine clutched his towel around his waist, even though there was nobody else in the house as he dug through his dresser. Sweats. Sweats. Sweats. Shorts. Jeans. Score. He dug them out of the bottom of the drawer, pressing them to his nose to check if they were clean because God knows if they were; he was an idiot. They ended up being washed; praise. And then he was out of briefs, leaving him to struggle into boxers and then try and get his jeans around them without bunching up. There was a knock on the door just as he grabbed a purple v-neck t-shirt.

            Blaine bolted from the room, hopping on one foot as he tried to get the shirt over his head because maybe that would help. He half-slid around the corner with one arm in the wrong hole and finally, finally figured himself out and threw the door open in a wide gesture with a grin and a not-so-subtle panting.

            Kurt returned his smile, slipping inside and setting his over-night bag down beside the shoe rack, removing his coat before wrapping his arms around Blaine's shoulders and dragging him in for a hug. “Thanks for letting me come over. I really needed a break from all the Berry drama.”

            Blaine tucked his face against Kurt's neck, slipping his hands around the taller man's hips to sit at the small of his back. “You're always welcome here, you know that.”

            Kurt leaned back slightly to press a kiss to Blaine's cheek. “Mmm. You smell good,” he half-moaned. Blaine certainly didn't agree; he smelled like a Christmas tree stuffed in the trunk of a car. But if Kurt thought so, he wasn't going to complain.

            Blaine let out a giggle as he stepped away, grasping Kurt's hand and dragging him toward the couch. “I just had a shower.” He dropped down on one of the cushions, pulling Kurt down with him. “So, catch me up on all this Berry drama. Christian just never came home, so I've been on the outs.”

            “Oh God,” Kurt sighed, dragging a hand through his hair in a way he must have been doing a lot recently because he looked like he wanted to rip it out. “She was so pissed off at me for telling Christian even though I didn't tell him, I told you, but she doesn't listen. She just lies on the couch and cries and Christian tends to her every need like a faithful little puppy. He's so sweet, that one. I'm glad he was the one taking care of you.” His eyes landed on Blaine and they were so nervous. But they were loving; warm and sweet and loving. This was what it felt like to be loved.

            Blaine just stared down at their hands, making a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat as he ran his thumb over Kurt's. “That sounds horrifying. But yes, Christian's a good guy.”

            The corner of Kurt's mouth twitched and he leaned into Blaine's shoulder. “Can we watch a movie? I need a distraction.”

            Blaine straightened, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead before sliding off the couch and crawling toward his messy stack of movies. “Any ideas?”

            Kurt just shrugged. “You pick.”

            “I picked last time,” Blaine whined, sitting back on his heels.

            “Let's do Star Wars; I know how much you love it. And it's great background noise for when we make-out.”

            Blaine twisted to grin over his shoulder. “Kurt Hummel, you sly dog.”

            The taller man pointed to himself innocently. “Me? A dog? Hey, I'm not the one with a weird fetish for licking my cheek.”

            Blaine gasped in mock-horror, pressing a hand to his chest. “How dare you.”

            Kurt just rolled his eyes. “Oh, just get over here, dork.” Blaine slid in the DVD (The Phantom Menace) before scrambling back to hop on the couch.

            “Hi.”

            Kurt snorted, grasping Blaine's hand and lacing their fingers together. “Hi.” The shorter man leaned his cheek on his boyfriend's shoulder, eyes trained on the television where the opening summary began its journey up the screen before flicking down to their locked hands.

            “I always hated these opening credits. They're so damn long. Can we get to Ewan McGregor's face, please?”

            Blaine laughed, tucking his nose against Kurt's neck. “I think they're cool. But yes, I wouldn't object to his face.”

            “I like your face better.” Kurt pulled away, scooting to lean against the arm of the couch and throwing his feet into Blaine's lap.

            Blaine pouted briefly at the loss of warmth, running his fingers over Kurt's calves. How did he ever get so lucky? “Of course, just like I like your face better.”

            Kurt shifted slightly closer, doing that thing where he blinked up at Blaine innocently from under his eyelashes when he wanted something. “Oh, do you now?”

            Blaine's hand slid up to Kurt's knee. Was this going where he thought it was going? “Yeah, I do. Besides, Ewan looks vaguely like Christian and it messes with my head.”

            He laughed. “Ew. Now every time I fantasize about Ewan, I'll think of Christian.”

            Blaine shot him a grin, wrinkling his nose. “You're welcome.”

            “Guess I'll just have to fantasize about you now,” Kurt sighed dejectedly, turning back to the screen.

            Blaine swatted at his knee. “Such a hardship; you have to fantasize about your boyfriend.” Even just the word gave him butterflies.

            “Mmmm boyfriend. We're boyfriends.” Apparently he wasn't the only one.

            “Yes, we are.”

            “I love saying that. It means I can kiss you whenever I want.”

            Blaine hummed in the back of his throat, kneading his fingers over Kurt's thigh. “Yeah, it does.”

            One of Kurt's hands fisted in the front of Blaine's shirt, hauling him down. The younger man let out a squeak, catching himself with a hand on Kurt's chest. “I'm going to kiss you now.”

            “I—“ Blaine swallowed, “okay. Yes. Yeah. Yes. Please.” And as their mouths fit together perfectly, Blaine melted, shifting to press Kurt's back flat against the couch as a hand slipped to cradle his jaw and he moved to straddle Kurt's hips. Was this even real? How did this become Blaine's life when just a few weeks ago he was still stuck on drugs and messing up his life?

            Kurt's fingertips nudged up the bottom of Blaine's shirt, the flat of his palm sliding over the skin of his stomach and Blaine felt like he was on fire. And then the pressure against his lips was gone and Kurt was tearing Blaine's shirt up and off his body, tossing it to the floor.

            Kurt was staring at him, eyes raking over his chest and stomach, sitting at his hips and trailing over the spread and stretch of his thighs. He almost wanted to feel self-conscious but he couldn't; not when Kurt's pupils dilated so far he could hardly see the midnight blue ring around them.

            “Is this okay?” Kurt's voice was scratchy and deep and broken, and it went straight between Blaine's legs.

            “So, so okay,” he breathed, dropping to catch himself on hands beside Kurt's head and trailing wet, wanting kisses down the side of his throat. Blaine's fingers grazed over Kurt's ribs, slipping to drive the hem of Kurt's shirt up his stomach a few inches almost carefully. Kurt gave a breathy moan and Blaine's eyes fell to rest on the strip of creamy, toned, perfect skin of his boyfriend's abdomen. “Can I?”

            “God yes.” Blaine sat him up just enough to remove the offending fabric, tossing it somewhere over the back of the couch where he was almost nervous Kurt was going to attack him for. A hand fisted in Blaine's hair (probably one of the first times he was thankful for lack of gel) and yanked him back (not so subtly) to Kurt's neck.

            Blaine kissed his way over Kurt's collarbones, barely resisting the urge to leave hickies. His hands gripped the older man's waist, fingers pressing into warm, smooth skin as he kissed his way down Kurt's chest, lingering at protruding hipbones before trekking back up.

            Blaine's hips twitched down out of impulse, grinding forward just enough that he almost moaned it felt so amazing, because this was Kurt.

            “S-stop.” Kurt jerked away, eyes squeezing shut. And the euphoria crashed into nothing.

            Blaine sat up so fast the blood left in his head seemed to slosh around, black hazing the edges of his vision. “What did I do?” He knew what he did, but he needed Kurt to tell him. Needed him to tell him no.

            The other man shook his head maybe an inch in either direction it was so slight. “No it wasn't you. I just—“ His hands came up to cover his face and Blaine wanted to cry for the both of them. This was that asshole's fault.

            Blaine tugged his hands away, pressing a kiss to the center of Kurt's palm. “Hey, I'm sorry. We don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'm sorry.”

            Kurt paused for a second, watching him carefully before shaking his head. For real this time. “I want to,” he breathed. “I want to try. But just... slow.”

            “Are you sure?” And even though his body was screaming yes yes yes, he needed to look after Kurt first.

            Kurt gave him a smile, fingers reaching up to curl around the back of his neck and pulling him down to press a gentle kiss to Blaine's lips. “Yes. I want you.”

            Blaine's hand returned to its place on Kurt' chest, pressing ever-so-slightly to both hold himself up and ground Kurt. It was something they figured out in high school together. “Only if you're sure. I don't want to pressure you,” he glanced down at his hand, “no pun intended.”

            “You're not pressuring me,” Kurt chuckled. “At all. I want to be with you more than anything, I'm just scared of what it'll trigger. God, Blaine, I'm scared of how damaged I really am,” he choked out wetly.

            Blaine swallowed, eyes dancing over Kurt's face. Someone so beautiful shouldn't be allowed to hurt. “You're not damaged. Never.” Kurt sniffed, rubbing a hand over his cheeks. “We'll go slowly, and carefully, and together.”

            Kurt smiled up at him with all the warmth of the sun. “Just like it used to be.”

            “Just like it used to be. Do you want to switch? Maybe if you're on top it'll be easier to handle.” He seemed to mull it over for a second, a peek of his top teeth digging into his lower lip as he stared at the ceiling past Blaine's head.

            “Yeah, yeah that sounds... good. Yeah.” Blaine shuffled off him, standing at the side while Kurt shifted to his knees. Blaine flopped into Kurt's previous position, sprawling out on his back but spreading his legs to give his boyfriend room. The ball of Blaine's foot touched the floor and he almost wondered if they should go to his bedroom instead. Except the look on Christian's face when (if) he realized they had sex on the couch would be priceless.

            Kurt looked skeptical before slowly lowering himself between Blaine's legs, palms pressing into the cushion on either side of the shorter man's ribs. He hovered over Blaine's chest, eyes flicking over his boyfriend's face before finally pressing down. It felt perfect. And it wasn't just Blaine who thought that if the flash of relief over Kurt's face said anything.

            “Good?”

            “Yes. This is perfect, yes.” He looked ecstatic; so happy that his nerves weren't kicking in and that he was doing this because he wanted to. Kurt's hips settled down onto his and Blaine couldn't help the little broken off moan as their erections fit together. This was the way things were supposed to be. He was always supposed to be with Kurt; they fit together perfectly. They were each other's missing puzzle piece.

            Blaine lifted a hand to cup Kurt's jaw, pulling him down into an open mouthed kiss; lips slotting, noses bumping, breathing over each other's cheeks. Kurt made a little noise, hips rutting forward and dragging his cock up the length of Blaine's through their jeans.

            The shorter man's head fell back against the cushion as he gasped, opening his neck to Kurt and squeezing his eyes shut. His fingers found their hold on his boyfriend's hips, urging him down again and he took it in stride, repeating the movement and pressing his mouth and teeth against Blaine's throat.

            “You can give me hickies. God, please do,” he moaned out, fingernails digging into skin. He almost hoped he would leave marks, even just little scratches so that Kurt remembered how much he wanted him.

            Kurt's mouth drifted down the tendon in his throat, teeth grazing heated and already sweat-damp skin before settling at the junction where Blaine's shoulder met his neck. His hips pumped forward again and Blaine arched his back ever-so-slightly, toes curling as he shuddered. “Please, please.” Kurt ground down, mouth clamping around the muscle and Blaine could feel him smiling. “You're such a smug bastard,” Blaine hissed.

            “Mmhm.” Kurt's teeth dug into his skin, one hand sliding to tangle in Blaine's hair and the other wrapping lightly around the base of his throat. He was almost worried Kurt was going to delve right into breath-play when he realized what he was doing.

            Heartbeat. He was monitoring Blaine's heartbeat, something he'd done in high school as a way to remember that this was real, that they were real.

            “Honey, you're killing me.” Blaine ran the pads of his fingers up Kurt's spine, settling over his shoulder blades. Kurt pulled away, eyes resting on what must have been an impressive hickey if the way he grinned said anything.

            “Aw, well we can't have that, can we?”

            “Definitely no—“ He broke off with a groan as Kurt dragged his hips forward slowly and deliberately, the zippers of their jeans grinding and rubbing over each other. “More, more. Please, more.” Blaine was never one for begging but when your boyfriend resorts to torturing your dick, you turn to desperate measures.

            “Only because you asked so nicely.” Kurt ground forward again, both hands sliding down to get a firm grip on Blaine's thighs and pushing them apart just that much more as he pushed himself up on his knees. One of Blaine's hands curled around Kurt's neck, pulling him down so that their foreheads rested together, panting against each other's mouths as they rocked together, cocks pressed between them and grinding between several layers of clothing that somehow still managed to feel amazing. Blaine arched his back, his other hand sliding to press against the small of Kurt's back. Closer, closer, closer; they needed to be closer.

            “God, you feel so good,” Blaine exhaled in a way that probably sounded a lot more like a whine but he didn't care, and if the way Kurt's hips jolted forward and he bit his lower lip was any indication, he didn't care either. Kurt's hands moved to grip Blaine's sides, fingers tightening against the skin in such a way that Blaine felt like he could feel it in his bones.

            “You feel good, too.” Kurt's mouth found the hinge of Blaine's jaw, lips working down to the hollow below his ear. Blaine squeezed his eyes shit, hands drifting carefully to cup Kurt's ass and pull him somehow even closer and harder.

            Blaine felt like they'd only just started and he was already so close to toppling over the edge. It was probably because it was Kurt, and he always put him right on the precipice no matter what it was they were doing. Kurt's hips jerked forward at just the right angle, slotting their cocks together in a way that could only be described as perfect and causing them both to gasp.

            “Oh God, I'm so close,” Kurt moaned in his ear in that breathy way he always used to. And then it really hit Blaine; this wasn't some stupid one night stand, this wasn't a man—a body he'd never met. This was a fragile boy he'd met in sophomore year who was suffering his way through bullying, who was strong and talented and scared of what the world was throwing at him. This was the boy who broke up with him to follow his dreams without extra baggage because neither of them deserved that. This was the man who was now back in his arms after fighting to get him clean of his stupid addictions and make him feel like an actual person again because they were going to get through everything together.

            Blaine's fingers tightened as he bucked up once more and his orgasm washed over him. And judging by the noises and twitching movements coming from his boyfriend, Kurt was right behind him. He felt the weight of the other man collapse on his chest, heated breath washing over his collarbones. “I'm pretty sure that's the fastest I've come since I was a teenager,” Blaine groaned, running his fingers through his hair.”

            “Well, that was... that was incredible.” Kurt's hair had drooped out of its style, sticking to his forehead with sweat. He squeezed Blaine's hand as he looked up at him from his place atop his chest.

            “Incredible doesn't begin to describe it.” God, he just felt so good. Their skin stuck together in weird places and they were so sweaty and gross but it felt amazing.

            “Let's do that forever.”

            “Please. Yes.”

            Kurt rested his cheek back on Blaine's chest, ear pressed over his heart. This was how things were supposed to be. “I love you,” Kurt murmured. Butterflies. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing those words from that boy.

            “I love you, too.” Blaine's stomach growled, sending them both into fits of giggles. Kurt rolled off the couch, scooping Blaine's t-shirt from the floor and throwing it on himself before heading toward the kitchen. “Let's make food.” He tossed a salacious grin over his shoulder. “And then round two.”