“I don't know if I can do this!  God, what the fuck was I thinking coming back here… it all looks the fucking same and everything… like time stopped… and…. shit… where's my cigarettes….”  

Kurt was rifling through one of his bags in an absolute frenzy.  They had managed to get through the flight, the drive from the airport, and up into the hotel room before it happened, and Blaine had thanked his lucky stars it had taken him this long for his mind to catch up with what his body was doing, but it seemed inevitable that he would have a break down at some point.

“Shit, fuck, shit… shit!”  Kurt cursed, throwing his neatly folded clothes to the floor in his race to get his nicotine fix.  With a sigh, Blaine gently tapped him on the shoulder and held out a pack to him which was greedily grabbed away.

“Remember… you had me holding onto them since your packs were already too full?”

Kurt made a noncommittal nod and quickly lit his cigarette, puffing in the stinky smoke and holding it before breathing it back out. “Yah… s'good.”

Blaine just shook his head.  There was no rush to go meet Kurt's family, and he was nervous about the whole thing along with Kurt.  He didn't want Kurt to be put into any more pain, and he was afraid that Kurt's dad might also be protective and not like Blaine.  So they had decided to sleep for the night at the hotel and then see how Kurt felt about things in the morning.

“No one seems to have recognized you though… have you recognized anyone you've seen?”  Blaine asked, trying to remain calm for both their sakes.

Kurt shook his head, sucking back the cigarette as if his life depended on it.  “Nah… hope it stays that way… can't think of anyone in this town aside from dad and Quinn I'd want to see.”

“Well… what about visiting your mom's grave?”

That seemed to give Kurt pause as he looked vacantly out over the mediocre hotel room before nodding, “Yeah… let's do that.”

They ordered room service, with Kurt declaring that the subpar food they were eating was likely the best thing Blaine would be offered in this “shithole town” and watched the local news.  Everything was going alright and Kurt seemed to be calming down until the anchor on the news show showed a stock photo of Kurt's dad on the screen and began talking.

“Local Congressman Burt Hummel is under fire today after he visited McKinley High school and ended up arguing with Principal Sue Sylvester over the lack of support for the Arts in the school.  Hummel cited a number of research studies showing the involvement in the arts can lead to better student morale, increased grades, and more engagement overall from students.  In response, Principal Sylvester argued that the lack of funding is the reason the arts have been cut from McKinley's extracurricular programming and if Congressman Hummel was so invested in the arts, he should be ensuring that schools are properly funded and not wasting time on trying to come up with reasons why his son might have run off.  McKinley High School was where Congressman Hummel's son attended school.”

A picture was shown of Kurt, the same stock photo as always, and before Blaine could even look over to gauge Kurt's reaction, Kurt was grabbing for the remote and chanting, “Turn it off, turn it off.”

Once the TV was clicked off, Blaine turned to Kurt, reaching to hold him as his boyfriend panted softly, chest rising and falling heavily.  “Hey, hey… it's okay… you're okay…”

“Jesus… fuck… what the… fuck, fuck, fuck!”  Kurt swore, to no one and about nothing Blaine could discern other than his own discomfort.  He rubbed circles into the small of Kurt's back, where he had so many times before to try and soothe him to sleep, but it wasn't working and Kurt only seemed to get more ramped up with each passing second.

Blaine thought he would be sent on a cigarette run, since Kurt was down to his last two, or even to find a cheesecake, but Kurt pulled away from him and peeled off his hoodie, shirt, and undershirt in one swift motion, whipping them to the ground before he started making short work of his pants as well.

“Kurt…?”  Blaine asked warily.  It wasn't that he didn't want to see his boyfriend naked, it was just it was very uncharacteristic of him to go from fully dressed to naked so quickly, and given how it was prompted, Blaine felt he had reason to be concerned.

“Please…”  Kurt turned to him then, reaching to tug at Blaine's bowtie in an effort to undo it with one hand while the other one fumbled with the buttons of Blaine's shirt.

Most boyfriends might have been alright with this, but Blaine reached up to trap Kurt's hands with his own, looking down to Kurt in puzzlement while Kurt returned his gaze, though needy.  

“Please Blaine… just… distract me please.”

“I don't want to be a distraction to you Kurt… not like that…”

Kurt huffed in frustration and pulled away, wrapping his arms around his torso as if he was only then aware of just how exposed he was.  “Damnit Blaine.  It's not like I'm asking for a pity fuck or something.  You're my boyfriend and I need some fucking tranquilizing and an orgasm does that…”

Blaine bit his lower lip gently.  Well….

“Okay… okay… “  He unbuttoned his shirt, glancing up to find Kurt staring at him hungrily, like a lion on the prowl.  It sent shivers down his spine and it didn't take long for whatever hesitations he had to dissipate once his cock tented hard in his pants which he couldn't pull off quickly enough.

As soon as he was naked, Kurt pounced.  Blaine fell back beneath him and accepted the hard, eager kisses he was getting with a moan.  The feel of Kurt's tongue ring inside his mouth was a novelty he'd never tire of, nor the feeling of the lip ring being crushed into his own lip.  

They'd had sex a few more times over the course of the past month, though not as frequently as either of them would have liked with Wes invading their home and having his all too regular pity parties.  Blaine had always bottomed so far, and that had been just fine because he wasn't even sure if Kurt could bottom given his history.  There was definitely a lack of online resources when it came to finding out if someone who had been abused sexually down there could comfortably take it anymore.

But until this point, the sex had all been done slowly and had been more of making love.  This was already leading into fucking, pure and simple.  The insistent way Kurt's body was pressed against his, the urgent rutting against Blaine's stomach, and the rushed fumbling to grab the lube and condom that Kurt had gotten out at some point.  All of it was incredibly rushed and it quite literally rubbed off on Blaine to the point where Kurt couldn't move fast enough either.

One finger, two fingers, three… added so quickly in succession that Blaine wasn't sure if it hurt or if it felt good.  He knew it felt right though.  The stretch, the fill - it had him writhing beneath Kurt and begging for more as his hands swept up and down Kurt's side and around to gently flick at his nipples.  

Kurt kept screwing his fingers of one hand up into Blaine while the other unwrapped a condom and slid it on himself.  More lube was drizzled down the crack of Blaine's ass and then fingers were removed and the blunt pressure of Kurt's cock was pressed in to replace them, this time slow and steady until he was bottomed out within Blaine and gritting his teeth, obviously holding back.

“It's okay…”  Blaine half-whined as he looked up at Kurt, “... I want this.”

That bit of permission was all Kurt needed to break into a fast, jerky series of thrusts which had both of them crying out in ecstasy.  Blaine's hands fell to the bed where they reached up to grab at the pillow as his back arched up, while Kurt leaned forward, panting softly between moans as he slammed into Blaine over and over again.

The instant Kurt came, Blaine felt it.  He lurched himself forward the one last time and held, moaning for any neighbours to hear as his cock pulsed and throbbed within Blaine.  It was hot, and Blaine reached down to touch himself with one hand, barely stroking once before he too was coming between them and gasping for air.

They held together for a moment after that, both working on catching their breath before Kurt withdrew and quickly peeled and tied off the condom, reaching for kleenex to wipe the both of them off before collapsing beside Blaine with a grunt.

Ignoring the smarting feel inside him, Blaine rolled on his side and gently wrapped an arm around Kurt, who crawled into it as his breathing slowly came back down to normal, and, as predicted, he dozed off, leaving Blaine to pull the blanket over the both of them and settle in for an early night.

Not that he was complaining.

If anything, the only thing Blaine had to complain about was that, upon moving his feet under the covers so they could cuddle with Kurt's feet, finding out that Kurt had kept his socks on.  Blaine hated socks, especially those wooly ones that Kurt wore that tried to cling to his own skin when he wanted to play footsie.  

When the next morning came, Blaine threw out an arm that unconsciously was searching for the usual warmth that was beside him, only finding an empty bed.  He sat up and blearily looked around with squinty eyes which found Kurt on the hotel phone ordering breakfast.

“You should get showered and dressed.”  Kurt said once he hung up the phone.  

“We goin'?” Blaine grunted, scratching his stomach.

“If I don't go soon I'm going to lose my nerve and regret it.”

Clearly sex, sleep, or a mixture of the two had helped Kurt's nerves.

So Blaine quickly got himself up, had a quick shower, dressed, ate the soggy eggs and pancakes that constituted their breakfast, and went out to get the car rental while Kurt packed up their stuff.  Not much was said, but the tension and urgency Kurt was giving off meant nothing had to be said - it just had to be done.

Kurt directed Blaine as they drove, pointing out the high school he went to, including the bleachers he started all his bad habits under, the house he grew up in, and then, finally, driving up to the town house his dad and Carole had listed as their address.

Of course he froze when the car came to a stop.

“I can't do this… I can't… what if… fuck, Blaine…. Fuck!  How am I supposed to do this?”  Kurt stammered, white knuckles drawn around the handle of the door but not opening it.

Blaine sighed and stepped out of the vehicle, walking around to Kurt's side and opening the door slowly, Kurt just staying in place.

“Come on Kurt.  Just one step at a time.  That's all you need to worry about…”

“Blaine… Blaine… “  Kurt seemed to be searching for words that had escaped up, looking up at Blaine like the lost boy he was.

Blaine held out a hand.

As he had so long ago now, Kurt looked at it thoughtfully, brow furrowing, but detached his fingers from the car door and placed the cold, clammy hand into Blaine's, letting himself be helped out.

“One step at a time.”  Blaine repeated, shutting the door behind his boyfriend and slowly leading him towards the door.

Kurt looked like he was going to be sick.

“Ready?” Blaine asked as they reached the door and he hovered a finger over the doorbell.

“No…”  Kurt mouthed weakly.  “... but do it anyhow.”

The doorbell chimed a little melody and footsteps were heard within.  The closer they came, the more Blaine's hand was crushed by Kurt's.

“Hello?” An older woman peaked out, glancing curiously at the pair when recognition seemed to hit her and she too began stammering, “K-k-Kurt?”

Kurt just rapidly nodded, holding himself in place as if he'd been glued to the ground.

“Kurt!”  She turned her head back, “BURT!  Burt!!!”

The insistence of her tone must have been alarming to Kurt's dad, because what followed was a clamor of quick footsteps and then the door was swung completely open to reveal the Congressman dressed down in flannel and khakis.

“Kurt….”

“Hi dad….”