By Sunday – the day before the first day of classes – Kurt decided it was high time he and Blaine experienced another New York first. This one involved their new, big bed – which, after eight full nights of being slept in, had somehow escaped being properly broken in.

Sure, they’d fooled around a lot; like that very heavy make out session after their talk in the park on Tuesday. Blaine had left him breathless from kisses and touches and whispers – but it was hard to go much further with the distracting sound of handcarts wheeling up and down the hallway as excited new students moved in on their floor, their hovering parents in tow.

And then there was so much else to do: sightseeing, orientation activities, setting up their room, making new friends. They had said they would always make time for each other, but it had only been a week and they were already doing a terrible job of it. Kurt intended to remedy that situation tonight.

He decided on a picnic: a private one, in their room. Blaine and Rachel were at a meet and greet for the new music theater students until six, giving Kurt plenty of time to prepare his surprise.

He wanted to truly celebrate being here, starting their lives together, Kurt thought, laying a blanket down in the center of the floor. And help Blaine take his mind off his problems from back home.

Kurt frowned as he recalled all the moments over the past week when Blaine had fallen silent, his cloudy, distracted eyes cast off in the distance. Even though they’d talked about it, Kurt could tell Blaine was still holding something back, struggling to deal with the emotions the argument with his father had conjured up.

I need to start taking better care of him, Kurt thought determinedly. If he could make Blaine’s life in New York perfect, maybe Blaine wouldn’t think so much about the strained relations back home. Kurt smoothed the pillows he’d placed around the perimeter of the blanket, making sure they looked fluffy and inviting.

It was Kurt’s first attempt at cooking in the common kitchen on their floor. He decided to keep things simple with spaghetti and red sauce. It was one of Blaine’s favorite meals, anyway; Kurt had lost count of how many times they’d made it together over the past year. Because it’s basically the only thing Blaine knows how to cook, he thought, shaking his head as he stirred together tomatoes and spices.

But he smiled at a warm memory that filtered through his mind, of one particular night last winter when they’d shared a plate of pasta together, huddled under a blanket in Blaine’s den. Then they’d made love by the fire until Kurt had to scramble out the door, barely making it home before his midnight curfew.

Good thing we don’t have to go anywhere tonight, Kurt thought, his warm smile turning devilish.

At five o’clock, Kurt shot off a hinting text to Blaine: “Don’t eat too much at your party.”

The response came a few minutes later: “Something special planned?”

Kurt smirked as he typed. “You’ll see. xoxoxo”

***

As soon as Blaine could see their room from down the hallway, he knew something was definitely up. The door was securely closed – no longer propped open like he’d left it that afternoon, and like most of the other doors he passed by.

Blaine tried the knob, raising an eyebrow when he discovered it was locked. He fished his keys from his shoulder bag, inserting the silver metal into the lock and slowly pushing the door open.

At first, the room appeared pitch black, in contrast with the brightly illuminated hallway. Blaine let the door swing shut behind him, allowing his eyes to adjust.

Kurt had closed their curtains, blocking out the bright reflections of fading afternoon sun against the adjacent buildings. The only light came from the two small, dim lamps on either side of their bed, which Kurt had insisted they purchase so they wouldn’t have to rely on the room’s harsh, overhead fluorescent lighting. There’s no way I can get ready in the morning to light like that, he’d huffed.

Blaine stood there for a moment, taking it all in: the blanket, the pillows, the dinner spread. Kurt, sitting on the floor with his legs folded underneath him, smiling up at Blaine invitingly.

“Kurt…what’s all this?” he asked, wonder in his voice and eyes and sweet, soft smile.

Kurt got up from his place on the blanket and slowly slinked toward Blaine. He tried his best to look seductive, but he could barely suppress a grin of satisfaction.

“I planned it. For us.” He looked down at the scene he'd created, then back up to the delighted expression that had taken over Blaine’s face. “Because we haven’t really had a chance to spend much…quality time together here yet.” Kurt did a better job, then, of accomplishing the alluring look he was going for.

He could see the realization spark in Blaine’s eyes. “I see,” he murmured, dragging out the syllables like they were a tease.

Their gazes remained locked on each other as Kurt reached behind Blaine and bolted the door in one quick movement. The lock turned with a loud click that echoed around the room. Kurt closed the small gap between them, pressing his warm body flush against Blaine’s.

“That’s to keep Rachel out.” Kurt’s voice was low and throaty, their faces inches apart.

Blaine angled his head just so, nudging his nose against Kurt’s for a brief, blissful moment. He moved again; the tiny shift upward finally allowing their lips to connect. Blaine kissed him softly, slowly: a silent gesture of love and gratitude. Then he probed deeper, his tongue reaching out to trace just inside Kurt’s lips.

Kurt swallowed the moan that threatened to escape from deep in his throat. He sucked in a hot breath, somehow managing to tear himself away from Blaine’s exquisite kiss. Blaine whined in protest at the loss of contact.

“I-I made dinner,” Kurt stuttered, after a pause. He blinked, trying to tamp down the quickly building heat between them and steady his already-spinning brain.

“Maybe I just want you for dinner,” Blaine countered, tugging Kurt back toward him for another kiss.

Kurt laughed against his lips. He brought his hands up to Blaine’s shoulders, putting just enough distance between them so he could speak.

“Actually…” Kurt let his hand wander to Blaine’s mouth, his index finger sliding lightly along the moist, reddened edge of Blaine’s bottom lip. He dragged his gaze up, meeting hazel eyes that mirrored his own: hungry, playful, brimming with love and dark with desire. “I’m for dessert.” He wanted to laugh again at the way Blaine’s jaw went slack, his fingers digging deeper into the skin at Kurt’s hips. “And so are you.”

Kurt reached forward one more time, placing a wet, open-mouthed kiss on Blaine’s lips; then another, and another, each peck more chaste, forcing them to cool down.

He held Blaine’s hand firmly, guiding them on still-shaky legs to their picnic. They served each other heaping servings of spaghetti, grinning stupidly at one another over their plates.

Blaine closed his eyes and moaned softly at the first bite. “How do you always make this taste so good?” he wondered aloud around a mouthful of hot pasta. “I know my cooking skills are rudimentary, but really. You put me to absolute shame.”

Kurt gave him a playful smile. “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice making it.”

Blaine chewed thoughtfully, rifling through memories of nearly two years’ worth of dinners together – silly, sexy, serious, sweet and romantic – as he stared at the beautiful boy sitting there with him. “Thank you,” he said, swallowing. “It feels just like home.”

While they ate dinner, Blaine told Kurt all about his music theater meet and greet. They both chuckled and rolled their eyes as Blaine described the jealous, self-assured comments Rachel had buzzed in his ear when faced with the array of girls she’d be competing with for the spotlight over the next four years – particularly Chelsea Winters, the girl they’d met at orientation on Friday.

“Oh, and do you remember that professor from my audition? Professor Ballard? She was there tonight.” Blaine forked another helping of spaghetti into his mouth. “She remembered Rachel and me. She said my solo was one of her favorites from Chicago and that she knew as soon as we performed that we’d both get in.” He shrugged his shoulders – a bashful gesture – and looked up at Kurt. He was clearly genuinely proud of himself.

“Of course she did.” Kurt beamed at him. “Your audition was amazing.”

Blaine’s eyes fluttered happily at the compliment. “She remembered you, too. She asked if my fashionable boyfriend was with me.”

Kurt looked flattered. “I do leave an impression,” he said in a wry voice.

Blaine shook his head, an elated smile playing across his entire face. “I still can’t believe it sometimes. Remember all those people there at my audition? And they held auditions in other cities, too. I heard there were like three hundred people at the New York one. And there were only sixty-four of us there tonight.” He puffed out a laugh, small and incredulous. “Like, out of all those people, I’m one of only sixty-four they picked.” The achievement made him feel so good; yet another confirmation that he was doing the right thing with his life.

“You deserve it, Blaine.” Kurt’s eyes were bright, his voice impassioned. “You’re going to be a star. I know it.”

Blaine blushed a little, looking down at his plate and shrugging again. “I don’t need to be a star.” He drew the word out in one long syllable, waggling his head as he said it. “As long as I get to perform, I’m happy.”

Kurt couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He loved Blaine’s passion for music. It was always radiant, always visible – like a ray of light that shone even when everything else in his life was dark. It was one of the things that Kurt had first fallen in love with. Now he was bursting with pride over his boyfriend’s success and incredible potential.

They lapsed into comfortable silence; each boy lost in his own happy thoughts about school and life and the future. Kurt was truly grateful Blaine was so untroubled tonight, his spirits high from his theater event and Kurt’s surprise dinner. And things are about to get even better, he thought with a mischievous little smile.

“So,” Kurt started, finally breaking the quiet. He kept his eyes trained on his fork, using it to lift the last single strand of spaghetti from his plate. “What do you say we finally christen our new bed tonight?”

Blaine stopped chewing mid-mouthful and stared at Kurt in surprise. Kurt lifted the strand of pasta to his mouth, looking directly at Blaine as he sucked it through his lips with an audible slurp. Then he licked red sauce off his lips, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s.

Blaine swallowed hard. They hadn’t been doing this for very long: the teasing, the dirty talk leading up to sex. It had always been blushing, giggles, bashful smiles, closed eyes, honest discussions.

He put his empty plate on the floor, out of the way, and crawled across the blanket, taking Kurt’s plate and placing it back down next to his own. Then he grabbed Kurt’s face in his hands and tugged his jaw close, their lips a breath apart. Blaine could see a little spot of red sauce left on the corner of Kurt’s mouth. He licked at it lightly, eliciting a tiny, gasping moan from Kurt.

“I say that sounds like an excellent idea,” Blaine murmured, their last ounces of control fading as they hungrily attacked each other’s mouths.

They didn’t even make it to the bed. All of a sudden they were flat on the ground, hips gyrating and limbs bumping against the floor as they rolled around the blanket. They held each other impossibly tight, barely able to breathe through deep, hard kisses.

Blaine’s hands were everywhere: fingers combing roughly through Kurt’s hair, dragging down the nape of his neck to his back, feeling his bones as they shifted and moved under his shirt. He straddled Kurt’s thigh, thrusting roughly against him and drawing groans from both of them.

Kurt rolled himself on top of Blaine, wanting to be in control. His hands snaked under Blaine’s shirt to feel the skin, the hair, the muscle there. But touch wasn’t enough; he needed to taste, to take. He bit down, hard, in the fleshy crook of Blaine’s neck.

Blaine growled, the low rumble vibrating against Kurt’s cheek as he continued to nip and kiss the soft, warm spot. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he managed to croak out. His grip tightened low on Kurt’s hips, fingernails digging into the fabric there.

Kurt’s teasing voice sing-songed in Blaine’s ear. “I think I do,” he answered, sliding his hand down Blaine’s stomach to cup his erection. Kurt lifted his head to watch Blaine’s face. His own impish smile grew as he gazed into hazel eyes, wild and filmed with pleasure.

Kurt shifted his body up into a sitting position, pulling Blaine with him. They were right next to the footboard of their bed now. The idea came to Kurt at once; before he could let himself think it through, his hands were on Blaine’s shoulders and he was pushing him back, firm and urgent. Blaine exhaled sharply as his shoulder blades connected with the smooth, wooden bed frame.

“Let me take care of you,” Kurt cooed, reaching to undo the first button on Blaine’s shirt, his fingers grazing the hollow of his neck. He worked his way down with purpose, unfastening each small, shiny black enclosure until Blaine was freed of the obstacle. Blaine blinked down at Kurt, unfocused, panting out shallow breaths of anticipation.

Kurt kept moving his hands down, grasping Blaine’s belt buckle. Metal clinked and zipped open, and then Kurt was tugging at his waistband. Blaine lifted his hips and kicked his legs, helping Kurt rid him of his pants and briefs as quickly as possible. Kurt pulled the material from one leg, then fumbled helplessly as lust completely took over. He gave up on the pants, simply pushing them aside, the bunched-up fabric wound around Blaine’s left ankle.

Kurt settled between Blaine’s bent legs, letting out an appreciative hum as he raked his gaze over his naked body, toned and tanned and trembling with need. He reached for Blaine’s cock, taking it in his smooth hands and stroking; slow, deliberate motions that made Blaine shiver all over.

Kurt leaned toward Blaine’s face, his husky breath hot in his ear. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day – all week,” he corrected himself, running one hand up Blaine’s bare chest as the other continued to stroke up and down his cock. “I want to make you feel good.”

I feel so good. Blaine opened his mouth to speak the words buzzing in his brain, but all that came out was a whine. He pressed the soles of his feet down harder, toes digging into the thin carpet under him. Kurt strokes got faster, fingers and palm running over his cock and balls in fluid movements.

“Just forget everything,” Kurt murmured, his last words before leaning down to take him in his mouth.

Blaine’s head fell back, thumping hard against the footboard, as he let out a loud moan. He scrabbled at the floor by his sides, desperately grasping for something, anything, to hold on to. He felt a pillow under his left hand and pulled it to him, gripping the puffy material painfully tight.

Kurt lifted his head up a bit, his lips and tongue giving their full attention to the head of Blaine’s cock, incessantly sucking and flicking and swirling. Lightly, he ran the backs of his fingernails up and down his shaft, tracing the veins there.

Blaine looked down, his eyes connecting with Kurt’s, staring straight up at him through dark eyelashes. They held each other’s gaze as Kurt took more, more between his lips. Blaine groaned again, moving his free hand to Kurt’s neck and running the edge of his thumb up the smooth column of skin before latching onto his head.

“So good,” Blaine gasped. He could feel the head of his cock rubbing along the ridges at the roof of Kurt’s mouth. He wanted to tell him to wait, to slow down, so they could make this drag out longer, together. But Kurt’s hot, wet mouth was relentless, his expert fingers stroking and kneading his balls and the sensitive skin behind. So Blaine simply rode the dizzying wave of pleasure, letting Kurt bring him to the brink.

Suddenly, Kurt moaned around him, the sound and vibrations shooting up into his belly, and it was all too much. Blaine shuddered and came with a yell, clutching the pillow like a lifeline. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut as he swallowed, slowing his mouth when Blaine grabbed his hair, hard.

The first thing Blaine noticed as he started to come back down was the sensation of Kurt’s thumb, stroking softly along the inside of his naked thigh. He lifted his head to look down at Kurt, who was leaning his temple against Blaine’s knee, watching him with heavy, loving eyes. His swollen red lips were curved in a sly smile.

“Holy shit, Kurt,” Blaine panted. “That was…” He trailed off, his eyes wide and blinking. He dropped his head back again, still too wrecked to hold the heavy weight up for long. “Unf.”

Kurt laughed, turning his face to place a small kiss on the inside of Blaine’s knee cap. “It must have been good, if you can only manage to utter unintelligible sounds as descriptors.”

“Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?”

“Definitely amusing.”

“Fine.” Blaine suddenly reached out, pushing Kurt down onto the edge of the blanket. Kurt yelped, his limbs hitting the floor with a loud thud. Blaine quickly kicked off the pant leg that had been trapped around his left ankle, then crawled over to Kurt on weak knees, straddling his waist and arching over him. “Let’s see what kind of unintelligible sounds I can make you say.”

Blaine pulled him up by the arms, tugging at the hems of Kurt’s sleeves and lifting his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Kurt moaned as their bare chests met. No matter what else they did, the feeling of their naked, shirtless skin touching for the first time always did something to Kurt that he couldn’t put into words. It was so simple, yet so intimate.

Blaine lay Kurt back down on the blanket, dragging over a pillow to place under his head. Slowly, agonizingly, he inched his lips down Kurt’s body, stopping to nuzzle his nose around his bellybutton. He loved the way Kurt’s stomach quavered in response, ticklish and eager for Blaine’s next move.

He made quick work of Kurt’s pants, yanking them down and away, and discarding them aimlessly near where his shirt had landed. Blaine exhaled deeply as he stared at Kurt’s body with reverence. This reveal of pale skin and long, lean lines never ceased to awe him, even though he’d seen his boyfriend naked countless times.

Blaine’s eyes led his hands on a journey up from Kurt’s feet, stroking over shins and knees and thighs with firm, flat palms. Blaine moved past his groin to feel his ribs, his nipples, his shoulders. He slid back down Kurt’s stomach, finally taking his cock in his hands: hot, heavy, velvety and incredibly hard. Blaine swept his gaze up to Kurt’s face, staring at him intently as he went down.

Kurt hummed with pleasure; the smooth, light sound like music to Blaine’s ears. It layered over the lingering buzz from his own orgasm, still tingling in his hands and legs and cheeks and toes. He wanted to do anything he could so Kurt would keep making that noise over and over again, tonight and every night, forever.

Blaine ran the tip of his tongue up the length of Kurt’s cock, then back down; wet, parted lips joining the slow, meandering journey on the next stroke upward. He was rewarded with another hum from Kurt, this one slipping into a broken moan at the end.

When he reached the head again, Blaine flicked his tongue over the tip and around the crown. Kurt’s mouth fell open; his moaning deeper, louder. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, not after the way Blaine had quivered and groaned for him.

“Blaine.” Kurt’s voice was an airy breath. He repeated his name with each shaky exhale, a chant that grew louder as he got closer. Blaine quickened his pace, desperately wanting to make Kurt lose it underneath him.

“Oh!” The sound was high, floating, and Blaine knew he was almost there. “Blaine, I-I’m—” Kurt let out a wail as he came around Blaine’s mouth, digging his nails into Blaine’s shoulders and losing himself in the glorious waves of his orgasm.

Blaine collapsed onto the floor next to him; the two boys a pile of tangled, sweaty limbs on the rumpled blanket. Blaine listened with a content smile as Kurt hummed out each soft breath, his eyelids glued shut, relishing the afterglow.

“Huh,” Kurt finally said, his chest still rising heavily. Then he laughed a little, and moaned languidly.

Blaine chuckled, reaching to pull Kurt’s body as close as he could to his own. “Hmm, what were those sounds?”

“Don’t know,” Kurt sighed. “Certainly not English.”

They lay there together in the dim light, listening to the muffled sounds of televisions and laugher from the hallway, and car horns on the streets far below. Kurt felt like he could drift right into a deep sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Blaine’s sticky, naked body.

“Wait,” Blaine suddenly drawled, cutting through the hush of the room. “Didn’t you say something about christening our bed?”

“Hmmm…” Kurt picked up his head high enough to look up at the bed, their soft sheets drawn and beckoning. He turned to look at Blaine, a sparkle in his eye. “I did, didn’t I?”

***

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

A warm mix of sunshine and Kurt’s teasing, mellifluous voice flooded Blaine’s senses. He felt a soft pressure on his shoulder, and he shifted his head toward it, inhaling deeply. His tired eyes fluttered open, connecting with bright, blue ones.

Kurt lifted his cheek from Blaine’s shoulder, pressing a kiss there before resting his face back on the spot. “It’s still kind of early, but I thought maybe you’d like to get coffee with me before I go to my first class.”

Blaine smiled lazily as his eyelids slipped shut again. “Mmmm. Coffee.”

Kurt laughed, a low, throaty sound filled with sleep and love. “Come on,” he said, nudging Blaine’s back with his elbow before rolling off the end of the bed to get ready for the day.

Forty-five minutes later, they were headed down the hallway to the elevators, bickering in hushed tones over where to go for lunch that afternoon. As they reached the elevators, Kurt noticed Ashleigh standing there with two other girls, waiting to go down to the lobby.

Kurt smiled at her in greeting. “Hey!”

Ashleigh looked over at him, and the two briefly made eye contact. Then her gaze shifted to Blaine, before quickly dropping down to the floor. “Hey.”

“I love that bag,” Kurt commented, too distracted by her classic herringbone messenger bag to notice the girls’ strange expressions. “Vintage?”

Ashleigh smiled weakly in Kurt’s direction, but didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah,” she mumbled in response. “Thanks.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow, finally sensing her discomfort. Guess she’s not much of a morning person. He didn’t try to press his new friend for conversation any further.

They all stood there in awkward silence, listening to the muffled ding of the elevator as it stopped on other floors. Kurt and Blaine lingered close to one another, their shoulders brushing while they waited: Kurt closely inspecting his nails, Blaine tapping out a text to Bridget on his phone. Finally, the doors opened, and the five students piled into the empty elevator.

The uncomfortable silence was positively deafening inside the cramped, metal box. Blaine looked over at Kurt, still fixated on his nails. So he turned to the girls, a friendly smile filling his face as he opened his mouth to ask what classes they were headed to.

But one of them – the blonde one – interrupted him before he could speak. “So you guys are, like…boyfriends?” she blurted out.

Kurt whipped his head up, his eyes wide and alarmed. Blaine’s smile fell dead.

“Uh…yeah,” Blaine replied in a tentative voice. Instinctively, his arm wrapped around Kurt’s waist.

There was a long pause; only the loud ding of the elevator, announcing their arrival at the lobby, cut through the stifling air. “Cool,” the blonde said nonchalantly.

The elevator doors opened, and the three girls rushed out into the bustling lobby. Kurt and Blaine could hear them burst out laughing as they exited the building, arm in arm.

Fury rose up in Kurt’s chest. “I can’t even believe it,” he finally managed. “I thought that wasn’t going to happen here. I thought we’d left that behind.” He glared at the girls’ retreating figures through the glass of the front doors.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Blaine forced down his own fears, putting his hands on Kurt’s shoulders and gently rubbing his arms to calm him. They stood there together in the middle of the lobby as other students streamed past, laughing and gabbing loudly. “We’re never going to completely escape it. There’s always going to be someone who’ll judge us. And who cares, anyway?” Blaine brought a hand to Kurt’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Let them think what they want. The important thing is that we’re here and we’re together. Right?”

Kurt bit his lip. He didn’t say anything; instead, he reached for Blaine’s hand on his shoulder, tangling their fingers together as he nodded. “Right.”

They both smiled at each other and walked out of the building, hands gripped tightly in love and unity.

“I just don’t get it, though,” Kurt mused as they strolled down the sidewalk. “Why would Ashleigh be so uncomfortable with us being gay? I mean, I run a fashion blog. I gave her twenty ways to wear a scarf, for crying out loud!”

“Maybe she’s just…” Blaine shook his head, at a loss for words. He couldn’t understand the girls’ baffling behavior, either. “I don’t know. Come on, let’s forget about it. Tell me more about your first class.” He made a goofy face, causing Kurt to snort out a laugh. “Creative writing, yay!”

Kurt did, eventually, forget about it. He couldn’t stay upset for long; not with Blaine’s bouncy excitement about their first day of classes and the warm, fuzzy feeling of sitting together, sharing coffee and scones at Mo’ Joe. It was the same routine they’d had last year back home: the non-fat mocha and medium drip, the table for two in the middle of a buzzing café. Except now they were here, in New York.

But the morning’s strange encounter came back to him in a sudden, terrifying rush that afternoon, when he returned to their room and saw the note: a folded sheet of white, lined paper, wedged conspicuously under their door.

Kurt froze for a moment as he stared down at it, his heart beginning to race. He snapped his head from side to side, wide eyes searching the hallway for any signs of angry, gay-bashing students watching and waiting for him. But he was only met with silence; their fellow floormates all out at class or napping soundly in their rooms.

Kurt quickly entered his room, kicking the note away as he firmly pushed the door shut behind him. He dropped his shoulder bag before crouching down to hesitantly pluck the note from the floor, as if it were a dirty tissue.

He breathed deeply, willing his hands to stop shaking as he unfolded the paper and read the message scrawled inside.

< 3 KURT AND BLAINE < 3

Try to keep it down when you’re doing the nasty. The walls are pretty thin here.
- Ashleigh

P.S. You guys are fucking awesome.

Kurt’s jaw fell open. He lost track of time as he stood there, silent, gawking at the words and hearts scribbled in purple pen.

Oh, god. I thought…

Blaine chose that moment to walk into their room. His happy whistle died on his lips when he took in Kurt’s horrified face: beet red and mouth agape, staring at the paper in his hands.

“Kurt, what’s wrong?”

Kurt tore his eyes from the note and looked up at Blaine. Blaine’s face was panicked, filled with question and concern.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up from Kurt’s chest. Blaine flinched, startled, when it burst out of him, loud and sudden.

Kurt couldn’t speak; he was bent over at the waist, lost in wild, uncontrollable laughter. He blindly waved the note out in front of him, signaling for Blaine to take it.

“I can’t stop laughing,” Kurt choked out, his arm clutching his stomach in pain. “Why am I laughing? I’ve never been so mortified in my entire life!”

Blaine grabbed the note, his narrowed eyes growing huge as he read Ashleigh’s message. He slapped his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his own laugh but failing miserably. He reached out, burying his face in Kurt’s shoulder as they cracked up together.

Slowly, their hysterics subsided. Blaine pulled his head away from Kurt and they looked at each other, faces pink from laughter and embarrassment. “Welcome to college, huh?”

Kurt shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes. “Oh, god,” he panted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about people knowing about the big bed anymore.”