Kurt bolted down the stairs, followed quickly by Blaine. "Kurt Hummel, you get back here!" Blaine called, chasing Kurt into the living room. Kurt ducked behind the recliner, leaving Blaine on the other side of the room, glaring at him.

"Now who's acting like he's five?" Blaine asked, smirking.

"Me!" Kurt grinned.

Blaine strode toward Kurt, a devilish grin on his face. Kurt glanced around nervously, realizing he couldn't escape without running past Blaine. He darted forward, hoping to escape to the kitchen, but Blaine's arms wrapped around his waist and the boys fell on the couch with a thump.

"Oof," Kurt breathed. "We need to talk about your obsession with slamming me into things. That's twice in one day!"

"At least the couch is softer than the ground outside," Blaine said as he rose up on his elbows. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Boys?" Carole called from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready! Come join us."

Blaine sighed, pressing his lips to Kurt's before standing up and offering the other boy his hand to help him up.

Dinner wasn't nearly as awkward as Kurt had feared. Carole kept the conversation going, discussing what she had done during the week, asking Blaine if he had any plans for the summer, and teasing Kurt about his his refusal to spend much time in the sun. "My complexion is very important to me" was all Kurt had to say on the matter.

After dinner, Carole shooed the boys out of the kitchen, insisting she and Burt could would handle cleaning up.

"Storm's comin' in," Burt commented as he gathered the dinner dishes. Carole glanced out the window at the darkening sky.

"Should we have Blaine call his parents now?" she asked.

"Nah," Burt said, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Let's wait and see how bad the storm gets.

Carole shook her head, smiling affectionately. "You just don't want the boys to make any plans."

Burt continued gathering the dishes, and Carole turned to the sink, turning on the tap and adding soap.

Blaine and Kurt sat on the couch, watching the darkening clouds steadily grow denser. Lightning flashed; thunder rumbled, and rain began pelting the windows.

"Oh, shoot!" Blaine jumped up from the couch.

"Blaine?" Kurt queried.

"I forgot to roll up my windows! My car is gonna get soaked!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, then stood up, grabbing Blaine's hand and leading him to the door. "Come on; let's go take care of that, then."

The boys stood on the porch for a moment, bracing themselves for getting drenched.

"My hair will be ruined," Kurt said with a frown. "Maybe I should just stay here and keep an eye on you..."

Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt's ear and whispered, "I want to see you get wet, though. I want to see you with your hair hanging in your eyes, your shirt clinging to your skin..."

Kurt dashed for Blaine's car, no longer thinking about the damage being done to his hair or the sorry state his clothes would be in after this escapade. Blaine raced after him, and nearly beat Kurt to the driver's side door. Kurt reached his hand through the window, unlocking the door and throwing himself into the seat.

"Keys, please," he said, grinning and holding out his hand.

Blaine sighed, shaking his head to clear the water from his eyes. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his keys and thrusting them at Kurt who snatched them from his hand and blew Blaine a kiss. Blaine flicked his fingers at Kurt's face, causing him to squeak in protest. "You got water in my eyes!" he accused, dragging a finger over his eyes to clear them. Blaine just smiled innocently, his eyes sparkling with merriment.

Kurt put the key into the ignition, turned it, then reached for the controls and rolled up the windows. He opened the door as he removed the key, and pressed the automatic lock before closing the door.

With no warning, Kurt found himself pressed against the car door, his arms pinned to his sides and Blaine's lips pressing kisses to his jaw.

"What," Kurt gasped as Blaine pressed himself closer, "did I say about slamming me into things?"

Blaine jerked himself back, but his hold on Kurt's hands didn't loosen. He lowered his chin to his chest, shifting uncomfortably as he said, "I'm sorry..."

Kurt sighed, twisting his arms in Blaine's grip so he could grasp Blaine's arms with his hands. He tugged gently, and Blaine looked up, water dripping steadily into his sad eyes.

"I don't really mind, you know," Kurt said. "But every time you do this, I'm reminded of the numerous times I've been thrown into lockers." Blaine opened his mouth to say something, but Kurt kept talking, leaving him no chance to interrupt. "Don't apologize again. You aren't to blame for the things that haven happened to me in the past, and, honestly?" he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Blaine's ear, "I like your aggressiveness. It's nice to know even cool, calm and collected Blaine Anderson isn't actually perfect."

Blaine surged forward, locking his lips with Kurt's and pressing their bodies together. Kurt returned the kiss eagerly, shaking his hands free of Blaine's and reaching up to place his hands on Blaine's neck, his thumbs brushing the boy's cheeks. Blaine responded in kind, wrapping his arms around Kurt's neck and pulling him closer.

Kurt's hands left Blaine's neck, trailing down his sides before settling on his hips. He squeezed gently, and Blaine gasped, pulling Kurt even closer. Despite the cool rain flowing down their bodies, both boys felt warm, almost uncomfortably so.

The blare of a car horn startled both of them, and the boys jumped apart, gasping for breath as they glanced in the direction of the sound. If his cheeks hadn't been flushed from exertion already, Kurt knew his cheeks would be flaming. Blaine grabbed his hand, tugging him back toward the house.

"Do you suppose he saw...?" Blaine asked as they reached the door.

"Oh, he saw alright. The real question is, what will he say." Kurt opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind Blaine.

Carole looked up from her spot on the couch. "You boys are drenched!" she exclaimed. "Stay there while I grab some towels so you can dry off a little before you go change."

Kurt glanced at Blaine as Carole went upstairs to grab some old towels. "You look like a drowned puppy!" he laughed.

"You don't look much better, honey," Blaine replied. "Your hair might never recover!"

Carole came back downstairs and handed a towel to each of the boys. Before Kurt could begin drying his hair, Blaine wrapped his towel around Kurt's head, rubbing it vigorously. Kurt swatted at Blaine's hands. "Stop that!" he protested, ducking away from Blaine's arms. Blaine chuckled, then started drying his own hair while Kurt tried to wring some of the water out of his shirt.

"Leave your socks and shoes by the door," Carole said. "That should help minimize the water damage to the rest of the house."

"Speaking of water damage," Blaine looked at his clothes. "I didn't think to bring extra clothing..."

"You can borrow something from me," Kurt said.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, and Kurt continued, "I do own pajamas, you know. And I think I have a pair of sweatpants somewhere..."

The boys made their way back to Kurt's bedroom, and Kurt rummaged through his closet for dry clothes for the two of them. "Do you want a pair of jeans?" he asked, peering over his shoulder at Blaine.

"...do you own anything other than skinny jeans?" Blaine asked, slightly wary.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Of course I do." He tugged a pair of pants off a hanger. "In fact, I think these actually belong to you."

"...why do you have a pair of my pants?"

"When I brought you back here after Rachel's party in February, you insisted on changing into something more comfortable. And when you woke up, you were so out of it that you forgot to change back. I was preoccupied with bracing myself for an awkward conversation with my father, so I didn't remember either."

"And you didn't say anything later because...?" Blaine asked, curious.

Kurt blushed. "Neither did you!" he fired back. "You still have the sweatpants I loaned you."

"You said you didn't like them anyway, so I decided to keep them," Blaine said. "I wear them to bed every night." Blaine's mouth closed abruptly as his brain caught up with what he'd been saying. He flushed, his ears and face turning crimson.

Kurt laughed, "I don't feel bad wearing your jeans to school anymore."

"...you wore them to school? Why?"

Kurt sighed, smiling sadly. "We'd just learned that Coach Sylvester's sister had passed away. It...it hit me hard...made me remember how sad I'd been when my mom died. It was...comforting, I guess, for me to wear them, to have something tangible that belongs to the person I love." He shook his head. "It sounds so ridiculous when I explain it."

"I don't think it sounds silly at all," Blaine said quietly. "It's...sweet. And adorable."

Kurt flushed crimson and threw the pants at Blaine before grabbing a pair for himself. He moved to the dresser, searching the drawers for a t-shirt, which he also tossed in Blaine's direction.

Kurt unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it away from his body and draping it over the side of his dresser. He heard Blaine gasp behind him and cringed. I completely forgot about the scars... He turned around, bracing himself for Blaine's inevitable questions.

Blaine stepped forward, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder before moving to stand behind him. Kurt felt Blaine's hands tracing the marks on his back. The cuts had healed months ago but the scars had yet to fade.

"These are from you getting shoved into the lockers, aren't they?" Blaine whispered.

Kurt sighed. "Yes. They don't hurt anymore, though." Blaine's arms wrapped around his waist and he pressed a kiss to one of the scars.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," Blaine said.

"If it hadn't, I probably wouldn't have ended up at Dalton," Kurt replied. He turned in Blaine's arms. "I'm not saying I'm glad I got shoved into lockers on a daily basis, but I can't say I'm unhappy with the end result." Blaine smiled, but his eyes still held sadness. Kurt leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before saying, "Go change. You're making me cold!" Blaine rolled his eyes, stepping away from Kurt and peeling his shirt over his head.

This time, Kurt was the one to gasp at the sight before his eyes. Blaine's chest was covered in scars, some as large as the one on his hip and others less than an inch long. Kurt's eyes widened in horror as he counted the marks.

Blaine quickly tugged on the shirt Kurt had given him. As Kurt opened his mouth to speak, Blaine pressed a finger to his lips and said, "Not now. I..." he sighed. "I'd rather not discuss it anymore today, if that's alright with you?"

Kurt bit his lip, torn between wanting to know the rest of the story from that night and wanting to comply with Blaine's wishes.

"Alright," he agreed after a few moments of thought. He held up his hand, pinky extended. "But you have to promise to tell me, someday. Preferably soon."

Blaine linked his hand with Kurt's. "I will."