Blaine doesn't even know why the fact that Sam and Santana are due back the day after tomorrow bothers him. It's New Years Eve, he and Kurt still have tonight and tomorrow alone together. The thing is though, is that Santana only really calls by twice a week anyway, technically that's like a day and a half and probably not even that knowing her, and Sam only ever actually comes up into the condo when he's invited in, otherwise he just hangs out in the car or wherever, because he's just Sam.

The point is that Blaine and Kurt and are left alone Ninety percent of the time, obviously not including working hours when they could be surrounded by a boardroom of Twenty middle-aged guys in badly pressed suits.

So why is Blaine feeling so worried about it now? They had always flirted and acted like nothing was waiting to happen anyway, Sam knows it, god knows Santana knew it, so why is Blaine so caught up about it?

Maybe it's because he's worried that Kurt will revert back to his old ways when he knows that they're around, maybe it's because he thinks that Kurt actually meant it when he said along the lines of ‘let's be casual over Christmas. No there's no thinking about it, Blaine knows that the reason he feels his breath tight and stuck his throat, his chest pounding with each step he makes, is because he doesn't want Kurt to stay true to his word. If hope was ever going to be such a truer thing and present in the way of a tiny glimmer in the fleck of Kurt's galaxy like eyes, then Blaine will still hold on to it, as small as it may be, Blaine will still hold on to the thought, that maybe, just maybe Kurt doesn't want ‘just casual' either.

But what Kurt wants and what he needs and what he actually does and gets are very different things indeed, but Blaine knows, Blaine knows that what Kurt needs is not something that is just casual. Blaine knows that Kurt wants him, but getting him to admit that he needs him, that he needs something as strong and real as the feelings that Blaine has for Kurt, is going to take some doing. Thankfully Blaine is a patient man, he only hopes that Kurt will also show as much.

*

Blaine pretty much glides into the living room, a spring in his step as he hums a tune he just made up in his head. The room is dimly lit with just a table lamp switched on and dotted candles burning bright all around, there are fireworks already setting off early out in the purpling blue sky and he can see the bright glares off out in the distance from the window. There's some New Year countdown show playing quietly to nobody on the TV and there's music filling the air, music of strings and simple soft steady beats and piano chords, but not from the sound system, it's coming from out the back.

Blaine strides over to the kitchen, he's wearing sharp fitted grey suit pants with a crisp white shirt and a silk navy bow tie, he'd gelled his curls into little neat obedient flicks and the five o'clock shadow is starting to form on his jaw line. He took care whilst cleaning and readying himself for the night earlier, with a splash of expensive cologne he let himself splurge on when out shopping with Carole, he looks and smells good and he knows it.

Blaine smiles at the glass of champagne that has already been set out ready for him on the counter and picks it up, bringing it to his lips and swallowing, he closes his eyes at the feel of the bubbles on his tongue, cascading down his throat, he immediately feels the rise to his head, and his body loosens and relaxes. He walks forward and through into the dining room where he knows the music is coming from, the room where he and Kurt and Carole had sat, talking and laughing and eating, the very room where hope itself had started to burn and simmer deeply in the pit of Blaine's stomach, he still remembers the way Kurt's eyes glowed in the candle light and his face lit up like a beacon.

The dining room has been set up much the same as it had a few days ago, candles are burning, the table cloth is pressed, shiny polished cutlery are set out at both ends of the table next to water glasses and serving dishes. The room is a little darker though, somehow, maybe not so many candles, the air is a little more heady, the atmosphere thick with something Blaine cant quite put his finger on, maybe something intimate.  

Kurt is sitting at the far end of the table, his long legs crossed under the table at the knee and one Italian leather shoe peeking out from beside the table leg. He's wearing a black shirt stretched tight over his chest and arms with a light grey cravat wrapped around his neck, his hair is styled up and his eyes are sparkling, matching the mischievous smirk on his lips as he watches Blaine enter the room and take his seat on the opposite end. He looks entirely too gorgeous for Blaine to even produce words right now.

“I got your note.” Blaine says as he slides the small ivory card, that he found on the floor next to his bedroom door earlier that day, out from his pants pocket and on to the table.

“I see that.” Kurt's voice is gentle and soft, he picks up a champagne flute and tips it in Blaine's direction, before taking a sip. “I'm glad, welcome.”

Blaine does the same and there's a moment of welcomed silence, a moment of pleasant gratitude and wonder. Blaine lets his eyes wander around the table, there are hot plates set up, serving platters and bowls of mixed vegetables and sauces that smell completely delicious.

“You didn't have to do all of this Kurt.” Blaine tries to keep the awe and pleasant surprise out of his tone and the fact that he's secretly giddy with it all, with the thought that Kurt has shown, as his eyes follow the trail of his nose and the aromas it's picking up. Kurt really must have spent a long time preparing all of this that afternoon. Probably longer than the amount of time it had taken Blaine to clean his room a little, organise some laundry and swap out Jes's litter tray, because he's an adult and without their ‘efficient' house keeper around, he has to do these things, Christmas or not.

Blaine wonders how Kurt had got it past him, how long had Kurt been preparing to do this for them, for him. They had talked about New Years Eve briefly and had pretty much planned on not really having any plans as such, just seeing where the evening takes them. Men of their age, of their position and current situation and circumstances, do not necessarily need the company of a room or bar or Times Square full of people, to celebrate and drink and be merry with. It's very evident that at times like this, they actually prefer the all too intimate company of only each other, and Blaine's cat, of course, wherever he may be.   

“Of course I did.” And it's not really up for discussion, too late now anyway, but there's something in Kurt's tone, that tells Blaine be glad, be thankful for this, for him, for now. Their eyes catch over a rounded glass jar with a fat candle burning inside, melted wax clinging to the edges. Kurt's pink lips purse slightly as he slides a hand out over the table cloth between them, his fingers twitch and Blaine takes a second to think whether he should stretch forward and meet his hand with one of his own. As if talking himself out of whatever he was thinking about doing, Kurt's long fingers drum lightly over the surface, maybe a little nervously.

“Shall we?” He finally says, eyes never leaving Blaine's, but Blaine knows what he means, he just knows.

“Yes, we shall.”

*

Blaine doesn't know how much time has passed as they eat, but the New Year is ticking its way closer at a pleasant leisurely pace. Kurt's cooking is just so delicious, Blaine has always known this but tonight he seems to have done something different, something special, gone that extra mile, like he's added a sprinkle of magic itself. Kurt tries to offer him a helping from each dish until Blaine shoos him telling him to sit down and that he's done enough, and stands to serve Kurt proudly himself. They finish the already opened bottle of Champagne, open and finish another and then eventually start on a bottle of Chianti whilst they chat easily, laughing and joking, taking their time with each course and drink.

Kurt excuses himself from the table after neatly dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin, and Blaine licks his lips at the sight, the bubbles and the thick of the red wine is pounding deliciously at his temples and sitting hotly in his chest. Blaine picks up his glass and presses it to his lips, to give himself something to do, the coolness of the glass feels nice against his flushed cheeks and stubbly upper lip, he watches Kurt with smiling eyes as he quietly leaves the room. Blaine undoes his cufflinks and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, he fingers at his bow tie loosening it just a fraction and pops the first button at his collar. He grins when Kurt comes back moments later, noticing he has done the same, his gorgeous silky soft cravat seeming to hang a little lower, dipping into the deeper looking cut V shape of his shirt, and exposing the hollow of his creamy throat beautifully.

There's still about a third of their bottle of wine left but Kurt has brought another and a cork screw in just in case, he's also holding a flat silver dish in one hand and a china bowl in the other. Blaine can smell the melted chocolate, rich and thickly scented and something sweet as Kurt draws nearer to the table.

Kurt pauses before he sits at his chair, he looks briefly at the short space between the two of their place settings and chairs, as if he's weighing up his options, even though all of the others chairs have been moved from the room. After a beat, he sits down at his chair at the opposite end of where Blaine is sitting, and seeming a little disappointed by it also, the table is not necessarily too long or too big, if Kurt was to really shuffle forward he and Blaine could meet some how in the middle. But Blaine tries not to let himself think that this was where Kurt was going with his silent disgruntled train of thought.

Kurt places the dishes in the middle of the table and slides the other empty ones away and off to the side, Blaine can now see the range of fruits on the platter, grapes and chunks of apple and watermelon, a pile of red juicy strawberries, accompanied by a little stack of tooth picks, a small bowl of sugar and of course the heaping bowl of hot smooth melted chocolate. Kurt wastes no time in stabbing at a grape with one of the little wooden sticks and taking it between his lips. Blaine watches for a moment before opting for a piece of watermelon, he sucks the juice from his fingertips which dribbles lightly from his lips and does not miss the way that Kurt's lips part a little as he chews and looks on.

“So,” Kurt starts, finally breaking the careful silence between them after they've each eaten about three pieces of fruit, both seem to be artfully avoiding the strawberries and the chocolate. “How would you usually be spending New Years Eve?”

Only then does Blaine think to glance up to the grand wall clock that's hanging just above the stereo, it's a little after Ten O'clock. He rubs his fingers on a napkin and takes a sip from his glass.

“Well round about now I'd probably still be playing a set somewhere, anywhere that would have me, with anyone who wasn't drunk enough to still be able to listen.”

Blaine pauses and thinks about his words before he continues, he thinks about whether he misses it, the performing and the trudging around from place to place, this is the first year in around Seven or so that he hasn't been all over the city in the cold dark night, strumming and singing and trying so hard to be seen, to be heard, to be liked. Yes Blaine misses his music, he can't deny it, he misses the way he feels and the way he just is when he sings with his fingers busy over wiry strings or smooth piano keys. But right now, tonight there is only one person that he's trying to impress, and he knows he doesn't even have to try anymore. There is only one man, who he is battling for his attention, and it's not even a battle, not now.

Blaine smiles pulling himself back to what he was saying, “Either drunk enough or able to pull their faces away from somebody else's face for long enough to pay attention to me.” He grins playfully and Kurt smiles back, with a flash of those blue eyes over the candlelight.

“Ah yes, the typical New Years Eve kiss.” Kurt's eyes are dancing with the small flickering flames, he leans forward and goes in for the kill, picking up a strawberry and swiping it through the chocolate and up to his lips in one fluid swoop. He licks away the trail of chocolate the fruit leaves on his lips and Blaine tries very, very hard to suppress a groan. Thankfully the music is still playing just loud enough to cover up the slight diluted grumble in Blaine's chest, that he has no control of.

Blaine smirks and leans forward doing the same, picking up a piece and dabbing it lightly into the thick brown sweet sauce, “Well, technically that's only at midnight, still two hours away.”

Blaine lifts the fruit to his mouth and frowns down at the small dollop that has managed to land on the table cloth below, he looks up to find Kurt smiling at him. Blaine chews slowly and startles slightly as Kurt stands, his chair scraping as he pulls it with him around the table to the side, closer to Blaine. Blaine swallows the last little bite and smiles, standing to hover and lift his chair slightly, he does the same, moving to meet Kurt halfway, so now they are both sitting side by side at the longer end of the table. Their knees are brushing lightly together and Blaine is sure that if he moved his foot an inch to the left they could be playing a form of footsy.

Kurt grins moving his glass back towards him at his new place at the table as Blaine picks up the bottle and fills up their glasses and then pulls the fruit and the chocolate dishes closer to them. “Better?” Kurt asks, his voice a little deep.

“Better.” Blaine replies, an almost whisper.

Kurt picks up another piece of fruit and dips it back into the sauce, gathering another generous helping. “So, were you ever too busy to get your own New Years Eve Kiss?” He smirks as he sucks on the fruit, his pink lips already stained dark from the wine are now smudged with chocolate, the contrast against his pale skin and rosy cheeks is striking, and Blaine wants to duck forward and just taste him, taste him everywhere. And what's more, he knows that Kurt knows that he wants to do that too.

Kurt is being very daring tonight and Blaine loves it.

“Why does this sound a little like a proposition?” Blaine licks his lips and smiles as Kurt's eyes widen and glances at him sideways, grinning devilishly.

“We're not very good at these traditional things Blaine, we proved that at Christmas.”

“But we got Mistletoe in the end.”

“I got Mistletoe in the end.” Kurt drawls with a grin, as he opts for sugar with his strawberry this time. Yes you did, Blaine thinks, Kurt has never stopped surprising him.

“What about you, any handsome English folk over in your fancy holiday home to celebrate the clock striking twelve with?” Blaine winks, he thinks that it's too late to worry about crossing the line now, he takes a drink from his glass and licks away the remnants of the dark purple liquid as it sits on his tongue. Kurt glances down and smiles, he looks almost shy, a look that Blaine isn't sure he's seen on Kurt before.

“You know I like my solitude,” Kurt answers quietly, and it's not the answer that Blaine was expecting.

“Oh come one, surely you-” Kurt suddenly looks up, directly at Blaine pinning him with wide darkened eyes, though they're soft in his face, matching his small hidden smile. It's enough to make the words die on Blaine's lips, he swallows them back down.

“I've never had a boyfriend, actually, not really.” And Blaine wasn't expecting that either.

That's not what Blaine was getting at with his silly comment, at all, but shit he couldn't have hoped for a better reply. Blaine can't say that he's completely surprised, there are no hints or evidence to say that Kurt has ever had a relationship, but there have been none to state otherwise either. Kurt is wealthy, powerful, kind, extremely gorgeous and eligible and the only definite reason why Kurt has remained unattached is because it's been Kurt's choice to do so. Blaine knows that, he gets that.

He doesn't know what to say, he opens and closes his mouth wordlessly, gulping around nothing until Kurt helps him out. 

“I don't trust easily, if you haven't noticed,” He adds dryly with a quirked eyebrow and Blaine smiles a little, pleased to see that Kurt is still adding humour and his normal dose of sarcasm to this surprising turn of events. “I guess there's always also the fact that I've been busy over the years, never really been in one place long enough, the past year or so is the longest I've spent in New York, I've become rather attached to the condo now,” He glances at Blaine a little self consciously, “I've never been able to commit, to give over that side of myself, part of me was toyed with and broken back in high school, and I've worked too hard shielding myself from that happening again.”

He pauses to take a drink and Blaine can't tear his eyes away from him, he just wants to pull Kurt into a strong embrace or climb into Kurt's lap and wrap him up tightly. Blaine can hardly breathe with the weight of what Kurt is admitting, confessing to him, opening up a very raw and private part of himself. Blaine wants to fix Kurt, Blaine can take those pieces and put them back together, he can, he needs to.

“I-I guess that kissing somebody at New Years, sharing such a silly little intimate thing on a worldly monumental occasion usually in the middle of a crowd of people is kind of like a promise, it's like an acceptance of what's to come, of what's to be expected.” Blaine scrunches his brow, he doesn't quite get what Kurt is saying entirely, but he understands the meaning, he knows the vulnerability that Kurt is showing whilst saying this.

“But Kurt, relatives kiss on New Years, friends and strangers even, it's just a silly tradition, nothing that's supposed to mean anything-”

“Everything means something to somebody.” Kurt says and Blaine feels winded with the quietly spoken simple statement. He feels the strength of the words, down to his core.

Blaine doesn't know why his next train of thought leads to his next sudden question, he knows it's probably not the most appropriate time to bring it up or why he even has to, but he has to.

“Kurt, I um, back when I first started here, I overheard parts of a discussion you and Santana were having in your office, I was coming back up from the gym and I couldn't help but-I um, I was worried about you-I always worry about you-” Kurt looks at him then, long and deep and steady and Blaine waits for the icy scowl or the upturn of an eyebrow but instead is greeted with a surprising shy smile, slowly etching its way on to his lips.

“I know you worry, and I wish that you wouldn't, you don't have to, there's no reason too, but I mean it's nice-that you do, I-I like that you do, a-and I always figured that you heard us that day.”

“I guess I should tell you that I also heard part of what you and Carole were saying the other day, in here, just a small part of it, similar to what I think Santana was getting at that day.” Blaine gulps as Kurt eyes flash at him, his small smile still unwavering and takes a long draw from his glass.

“I figured that too.”

“They worry about you too, they care, as do I-”

“I guess whatever you heard Santana saying to me that day, kind of sums up parts of what I've just said to you now-”

“I think that's why I was curious, wondering if it was all connected somehow.” Kurt nods at him in understanding. “You don't ever have to tell me anything, you know, I don't want you too feel like you have to tell me anything about yourself, but like I said I care about you a lot, there's no lying about that now, and, and I guess I just-”

Blaine is cut off suddenly by Kurt's hands wrapped around the curve of his neck, fingers playing in his hairline, as he's pushed back against the wooden arch of the chair, and the press of Kurt's soft warm lips brush against his own. Blaine's eyes flutter closed as he responds to the urgent kiss, words and everything else seemingly forgotten as he lets Kurt take control, take him and have him and before long Kurt is sitting in his lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders, ignoring the squeak of the wooden chair below them.

They kiss, long and slow and lazy and for what feels likes forever, with smiles against lips, soft gasps and puffs of air against the slide of tongues, nibbles against fuzzy jaws and cheeks. Kurt tastes like wine and chocolate, the taste and scent rich and heady in Blaine's nose and in his mouth, he feels almost dizzy with it.

Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's waist and tightens his hold, Kurt squeaks a little and grins against his mouth when Blaine's hands land on the swell of his ass and squeeze lightly, he slides his fingers under and dig them softly into the backs of Kurt's thighs as he moans lightly in the next assault of kisses.

Kurt squeaks even louder when Blaine suddenly stands, pulling Kurt up with him, tight and sturdy in his strong arms and under his hands. He squeezes Kurt's thighs encouraging him to wrap his knees and legs tighter around his waist as he walks them out of the room, Kurt mouths and smiles against Blaine's neck as Blaine takes them out of the room and a few steps over towards the stair case.

Kurt slides down back to the ground as Blaine nudges him forward with a playful grin, his heels just hitting the edge of the first step. Wordlessly Blaine takes his hand and tugs him up the stairs with him, eager fingers already pulling at their neck accessories.

Sometimes words are just not needed.

*

“Jester has hardly bothered us tonight, it's weird, is he ok?”

“He doesn't like New Year, doesn't celebrate it-” Kurt laughs loudly and Blaine smiles, he loves the sound, loves the way Kurt looks when he smiling widely, teeth on show, chin tipped back. In fact Kurt is looking pretty damn incredible right now, not like he doesn't always, but Blaine is proud of the way Kurt looks right now, flushed and happy, relaxed and sated, knowing he's part of the reason why.

Despite it almost being the extremely early hours of the First of January, and it being absolutely nowhere close to warm outside at all, they're sitting out on Blaine's bedroom balcony, side by side impossibly close on metal patio chairs and wrapped up many various forms of blanket. Kurt's hair is sticking out everywhere, set that way by Blaine's fingers, his eyes are clear and sparkling, highlighted under the odd dot of stars and the flare of fireworks shooting up here there and everywhere. His nose and ears are flushed with the cool crisp air and his cheeks are flushed with the remnants of their earlier activities.

Blaine's stomach twists deliciously as he looks at Kurt sideways, not even bothering to care that he's just openly watching him now with a bashful grin and wine stained kissed swollen lips. He thinks about where they just were, what they were doing, warm and sticky and sweaty against each other, between Blaine's cool sheets. He can still feel Kurt's longs fingers inside of him, slickly stretching him open, pushing and teasing him against that spot again and again until his orgasm came crashing down out of nowhere. He can still feel Kurt's lips against his skin, his tongue and his teeth, he can still taste Kurt in his mouth, the bitter salty sweet aftertaste of him, he can still feel Kurt hard and leaking within the tight grasp of his palm.

There seems to be a pattern emerging, a pattern that isn't straying far from what they're used to with each other, on the couch or in Blaine's bed with hand jobs and blow jobs and Kurt seems to know just how much Blaine loves the feel of his fingers inside of him. Blaine hasn't tested the waters yet of offering Kurt the same treatment, he knows with the way Kurt trembles deliciously under his touch with the sweep of his hands and fingers when Blaine dares to go lower, that Kurt is not opposed to that, but Blaine still feels like he must wait for that venture some how, waiting for what, he doesn't know.

Blaine is not complaining, god he'll take Kurt in any dose he can get, but it is becoming increasingly harder to bite his lip and not scream out ‘Just fuck me, Kurt' when Kurt's skilled fingers are working their magic. Blaine doesn't know why Kurt doesn't just do it, take it further and own Blaine completely, he already has such a big hold on him already, sex is simply going to amplify that but Blaine is already a goner with that man, in so many ways.

As if on cue the patio door behind them squeaks open wider slightly and Jes patters out with a quiet mewl of recognition when he notices them huddled together, not a second later a loud bang followed by a distant scatter of colour goes off and he comically scarpers back inside with an angry hiss.

Kurt smiles, “I think I can sense where his hatred of the night comes from.” He leans forward towards the small rounded table and unwinds a hand out from the folds of blanket as he reaches for his wine glass. After catching their breath, and allowing the mix of come and sweat to cool and dry on their skin, they cleaned up and redressed in comfier clothes and Kurt had went back down to retrieve their abandoned bottle of wine, as Blaine began to set up their little camp out on the balcony.

Blaine hums and stretches his legs out under their makeshift outdoor bed, his socked feet brush and toes wriggle against Kurt's and Kurt grins against his glass. Kurt hands Blaine his glass and they clink and sip quietly together as they watch a continuous flurry of bright sparks and lights up ahead in the sky. It must be very nearly close to midnight now, as the excited sounds and cut off beats of music grow louder and more insistent from the streets below, stretching over block by block.

Neither man have a current concept of time, their watches were taken off during the earlier  scramble of de-clothing and its kind of perfect sitting there, wrapped up in each other in the cold night watching the rest of the world draw in a New Year, whilst ignoring the idea of time or reality. There's a sudden chorus of a loud chant, filtering in through the air from all around them and Blaine knows it's the countdown. He places his glass down and Kurt's does the same also as he twists and turns inwards in the little seat, his knees practically draping over the top of Kurt's. Their bodies seeking every inch of warmth from each other.

Kurt gulps hard and Blaine watches the movement of his Adam's apple, they search each other eyes as the crowd grow louder and the countdown grows shorter, a silent exchange of deep glimmering gazes.

There's an eruption of words, an array of music, lights and fireworks, bang and cracks and far off chimes, swirls of shooting colours painting the sky. Kurt smiles as he looks out and watches the city break out into celebration, Blaine smiles as he watches Kurt.

“Happy New Year, Kurt.” Blaine's says, soft and steady, his lips open and close again but this time wordlessly, hopelessly searching for something to do, for something to say. He knows what he wants to do, what he should do, but that's also the same thing that he know Kurt doesn't want to do.

He closes his eyes and feels like burying himself further down into his cocoon of blankets, to keep from leaning over and nestling his face against Kurt's.

The cool wet feel of Kurt's lips pressed against his cheek jolts him where he sits and his eyes snap open. Kurt rasps, barely loud enough to be heard, “Thank you for joining me on this journey Blaine.”

Blaine turns his face, eyes blinking and lips parted incredulously. No explanation is particularly needed about the use of the word ‘journey' or what part of it. Kurt glances up above and then slowly pulls his eyes away from the sky, crystal glass-like orbs dotted with the reflection of colours from up above, and lock on to Blaine. Breath taking.

Kurt leans in once more, there's a look of slight uncertainty in his eyes as he ducks his chin and Blaine just wants to cup his face and brush his thumbs over skin but refrains. Kurt gently, achingly slowly presses their lips together tentatively with a gust of cool breath, “Happy New Year, Blaine, here's hoping it's what you imagine it to be.”

Here's hoping, Blaine thinks as his eyes slide closed as Kurt kisses him again and again, on New Years Day. Hope.