Rachel is waiting for Kurt at the door when he arrives home late that evening, and Kurt knows before he's even stepped foot into the apartment that he's going to have to sit down and tell her everything—and he's not looking forward to divulging certain...aspects of his day. He could try to skim over them, gloss them, but this is Rachel, and he knows that she's going to poke and prod until, eventually, the whole story comes tumbling unbidden out of Kurt's mouth.

Even with food from Rachel's favorite vegan take-out place, Kurt is still in such a good mood that he doesn't really even need the peace offering, the distracting temptation so Rachel won't ask too many questions. He almost wants Rachel to ask questions, because he wants someone to tell, wants to maybe even shout it from the rooftops that he's in love and is loved in return.

"Kurt!" The door slides open and Rachel is there, hair pulled back, clad in yoga pants and a loose dance sweater. She grins at him, grabs his arm and tugs him in, sliding the door shut with a clang behind him. She takes the food, makes a little noise of approval, and heads into the kitchen to start rummaging for plates. "It's good to see you finally home again," he adds, looking up from where she's reaching into the cabinet. Kurt almost doesn't like the scheming look on Rachel's face; he's been around her long enough to know what that look entails.

"Um, it's good to be home?" he says, cautiously, as he grabs one of the plates and takes out his container of mock Foo Young. He heads over to the fridge and grabs two bottles of water, handing one to Rachel as he makes his way back to his side of the table. "I...missed you?"

"I can't imagine that you had done much missing last night." Now there's the wink, lascivious, and Kurt glares at her, lips thin and face heating up.

Rachel looks down at his wrist, then, finishes loading her food onto a plate, and says, off-handedly, "I see you're finally wearing that bracelet he got you."

Kurt's hand goes to his wrist automatically, self-consciously, and he sits down in a chair, tugging his food closer to him to begin loading it onto his plate. "Yeah, well, Blaine did give it to me," he says, goes for nonchalant.

Rachel isn't buying any of it, and she points her fork at him. "I went online to see if I could find out anything about that bracelet."

Kurt looks at her. "Uh-huh."

"It was $750, Kurt."

Kurt's heart skips, stomach knotting, and getting a bite of his food down becomes difficult. He had known that it was expensive, of course, since it was from Tiffany's, but he never would have imagined that it would be that expensive. Barring the scarf, which Kurt had never let himself dwell on in the first place because it's become symbolic by now, the mark of the hesitant beginning of their relationship, Blaine's never bought him anything that expensive. And as much as Kurt loves designer things, loves shiny trinkets and new, crisp-smelling clothes with the price tags still on, he's beginning to feel bad taking so much when he's given so little.

It's not that he feels like a trophy husband—or, well, boyfriend, because he doesn't, and he knows Blaine would never treat him like that. He's just Kurt Hummel, poor, struggling intern who can barely afford to clothe and feed himself and his roommate, much less buy something wonderful and over twenty dollars for his boyfriend.

And that's the problem: Kurt wants to treat Blaine like Blaine treats him, wants to make him feel special, too, make his eyes light up and his mouth broaden into that adorable crinkly grin of his. He wants Blaine to say, "It's beautiful, Kurt, I love it," and feel that sense of pride he can see in Blaine's eyes whenever he gives Kurt something new.

"I know that look." Rachel's voice cuts into his thoughts, and Kurt shakes his head, looks down at the fork held in slack fingers, at the untouched food on his plate. He sighs, closing his eyes, and Rachel adds, a touch more concerned now, "You okay?"

Kurt nods, a little more vigorously than necessary, and takes a bite of food that he doesn't really tastes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...thinking about what I want to give Blaine."

"For what?"

"For...just because. Because he's my boyfriend and I..." Kurt takes a deep breath. He hasn't told Rachel this yet, and it looks like now is going to be when he does. "I love him."

Rachel nearly drops her fork down onto the table as she looks up in surprise. Her eyes are wide, and maybe Kurt should have told her sooner, but there hadn't been a right time yet. "You what?"

Kurt swallows, feels his cheeks burning again as he looks down at his plate. "I love him? And he loves me back. And last night we told each other." After I screamed at him and accused him of cheating on me.

The dumbfounded look on Rachel's face slowly morphs into, by what Kurt can tell, genuine happiness. She reaches across the table and takes Kurt's hand, squeezing once before pulling away. "I'm so happy for you, Kurt."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. Rachel Berry, happy for someone else? "I am," she insists, like she's caught on to his skepticism. "I like seeing you happy, and Blaine makes you happy."

It's oddly touching, and Kurt softly smiles, reaches across to take Rachel's hand, now, squeezes and pulls back. "Aw, thank you, Rach."

She smiles back, and says, without skipping a beat, "So how was last night? Was Blaine everything you ever dreamed of?"

Kurt nearly chokes, can barely splutter out an indignant, embarrassed, "Rachel!"

She just looks at him innocently, still smiling. "Don't think you can get away with not telling me about it. I told you when I lost my virginity."

Kurt scrunches up his face. "Yes, in disgusting detail."

She swats his arm, pouts, and goes back to business. "I'm serious. I want to know if Blaine's the right man for you."

"I'm not sure how that will help you decide if he's perfect for me, but." Kurt sighs, wonders why, of all people he could have chosen as his roommate, he chose nosy, sometimes well-meaning, loudmouthed Rachel. "It was amazing."

"Just amazing?"

Kurt sighs, self-suffering, and says what he knows Rachel wants to hear in a deadpan. "He absolutely rocked my world. No," he adds when he sees Rachel open her mouth, "I am not telling you how big his dick is. That's for me and him to know and for you to never know."

Rachel pouts, and Kurt's eyebrow rises again. "God, do you want me to tell you every detail or something?"

"No, no." Rachel shakes her head. "I'm just glad everything is working out."

"How selfless of you," Kurt says dryly, but he's smiling.

"I try," Rachel says, winking, and they laugh. Kurt's honestly just glad she doesn't ask any more questions about Blaine, though he's almost certain that Rachel's endless curiosity is far from sated.

----

Kurt Hummel is in a relationship with Blaine Anderson ♥
Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, and 5 others like this.

Rachel Berry: FINALLY you post this!!!
Finn Hudson: I still don't know how I feel about this
Kurt Hummel: Feel how you want, I still love him.
Finn Hudson: !!!! What?!
Blaine Anderson: I love you, too, darling :) 6 Likes
Santana Lopez: I take back every bad thing I've said about you, Hummel. Hot AND older? I've taught you well. 1 like
Kurt Hummel: Gee, thanks, Satan. 2 likes
Blaine Anderson: Am I missing something I should know about?
Kurt Hummel: It's an extremely long story. I'll tell you tonight.
Santana Lopez: WANKY! 3 likes

----

They're at the kitchen table the next morning eating breakfast, still half-asleep despite their mostly-empty mugs of coffee on the table in front of them, when there's a loud knocking coming from the door.

"Not it," Kurt says automatically without looking up before Rachel can even swallow her spoonful of cereal, and she throws him a glare that's not as effective as it could be if she was more awake.

"I hate you," she says, but it's not angry, and Kurt smiles as she gets up from the table and walks to the door, tugging the sleeves of her sweater down to ward off the chill. He hears the door slide open, and before Rachel can even open her mouth a very familiar voice carries through the apartment.

"Oh, hello, you must be Rachel. Is Kurt home, by any chance?"

Kurt nearly knocks his chair over in his haste to get up, and he curses his undone, unwashed hair and un-moisturized face as he rushes as casually as possible over to the door, where Blaine is standing, well-dressed and presentable and heart-stoppingly gorgeous.

"Blaine, hi!" Kurt breathes out in a rush, wide-eyed. He tries to shoo Rachel away, but she doesn't catch the hint and continues to stand there, silent. "What brings you over here so early unannounced?" Belatedly he says, "Oh—come on in." He ducks around to slide the door shut, and he glares at Rachel behind Blaine's back until she finally leaves the room, darting into the partitioned section that's hers.

Blaine smiles at him once they're alone, and when he leans in for a kiss Kurt obliges, squeezing Blaine's arm as they part. "Good morning, honey."

Kurt runs a hand self-consciously through his hair and says, "Good morning."

Blaine reaches into his coat, grabs something small and folded and black, and Kurt takes it, uncomprehending, before he gets a flash of a familiar waistband. His cheeks immediately heat up. "Wait...why do you have my underwear?"

Blaine looks a lot less embarrassed than Kurt when he smiles. "You left them at my place."

"But I—"

Now Blaine's cheeks flush, and he bites his lip as he smiles, says, "I think you, uh, took mine by accident after we got out of the shower."

Foggy, steamed-window memories dredge back up in Kurt's mind, and he coughs, shifts, as he remembers the way Blaine had had him pushed against the glass of his spacious shower as he'd fucked into him for the second time that day. He's surprised that he even got dressed in the first place, if he wants to be honest. "Oh. Well, um, oops?" he says awkwardly.

Blaine just laughs, takes Kurt's hand and squeezes it briefly. "It's kind of hot when you think about it, you wearing my underwear."

Kurt still isn't used to someone talking like that, talking about him like that. Blaine is still helping Kurt affirm any sort of appeal that he has, and each time Blaine says it, you look hot or guys really should be knocking down your door, Kurt tingles with happiness. And now, after the other night, they have a new level to step up to, you look so beautiful when you come and you sound so hot when you're moaning my name.

"I can give them back to you after I wash them," Kurt says, and he is still a little awkward, though he isn't sure why, he knows he shouldn't be anymore.

Blaine shakes his head, smiles, and says, "Keep them. I have so many pairs right now that I'm not even sure if I wear half of them."

That tingling surges straight into hot electricity, and Kurt begins to think about wearing those, remembering that Blaine's worn them before, too, and he nods, smiles crookedly and says some strangled, high-pitched version of 'thanks.'

Then he remembers that they've both been standing here, unmoving the entire time, and he snaps back into himself, standing up a little taller. "Would you like to...to see the place? I have to take these to my bedroom, anyway." He gestures with the folded-up pair of underwear.

"Sure." Blaine takes Kurt's hand. "I'd love that."

"I have to warn you that it's nothing compared to your place, though," Kurt says as he leads Blaine to the section that doubles as his bedroom. He goes for the bureau, pulling open the top right drawer and sliding the underwear in next to his other pairs. He straightens up, notices Blaine looking around curiously. "So...yeah, this is my room."

Blaine touches framed pictures on the nightstand, scarves carefully hung up on one of the old knobs of his mirror bureau. He touches them gently, makes an approving noise. "It's very you."

"It's very plain."

Blaine shakes his head, smiles and looks at Kurt. "You make it work," he says. "I like it."

"It's nothing like your place."

"My place is big and lonely and empty. This place feels like it's a home, not a magazine spread."

Kurt swallows and walks toward Blaine. He places his hands on Blaine's hips, draws him close to study the lines of his face, the tired bags that are always under his eyes but that Kurt never notices. A patch of hair at his temple is turning grayer than the rest, and Kurt wonders how truly lonely Blaine has been, if he's just put on a face for Kurt and the rest of the world, or if he is actually unhappy underneath the money—and if he still is, even though they're dating.

But all Blaine does is kiss him, framing Kurt's face with his hands as they stand in the middle of Kurt's room. "I love you," he says when they break apart, because now seems like the perfect time, like they both need to hear it.

Blaine's face lights up when Kurt says it, and his hand slides around to the small of Kurt's back, tugs him close as he says, "I love you, too."

They hold each other in silence, pressed tight and close, and don't move until Kurt softly suggests showing him the rest of the place, to which Blaine immediately agrees, and he stays close to Kurt as he explains which flea market these wall ornaments were from, and which antique stores the chairs and furniture were from.

Rachel stays out of their hair for the most part, popping up to rinse her forgotten breakfast dishes in the sink as Kurt takes Blaine through there, and he isn't quick enough to pull Blaine away before Rachel questions him with dizzying rapidity and ferocity.

"You're not in it just for the sex, are you? Because while I know that Kurt is probably amazing in bed, I don't want to have to hurt you if you hurt him."

Blaine blinks, a little taken aback. "Uh, no? Not that Kurt isn't amazing in bed, because he is—but I love him. I'd love him even if we didn't have sex."

Kurt shoots Blaine a grateful glance, but Rachel just plows on, unnoticing and unhearing. "So you're really serious about him, then?"

Blaine doesn't hesitate, and this time his voice doesn't falter or stumble. "Yes. I've never felt like this about anyone else."

"What do you see in Kurt, then, besides a hot young vogue.com intern?"

Kurt flushes, and Blaine laughs, reaching over to grab Kurt's hand even as he tries to inch his way toward the living room. "I see the most amazing, caring, wonderful man I've ever met, and I feel so privileged to have the honor of calling him my boyfriend."

Rachel looks satisfied, and she steps back, clasping her hands together and smiling. Kurt grabs the back of Blaine's head, pulls him in for a kiss, and Blaine lingers when Kurt tries to pull back, pushing in for more. "I'll just leave you guys alone, then," Rachel chirps. "Nice to finally me you, Blaine!"

"You, too, Rachel," Blaine says, and once she's gone and out of earshot Kurt turns apologetically to Blaine.

"I am so sorry," he says, brows creasing in worry. "I didn't know she was going to go all twenty questions on you."

"She's really interesting, actually," Blaine says, looking out toward the living room. He leans against the stove, looks thoughtful for a moment, then adds, "You said she was going to NYADA, right?"

"Yes, why?"

"I know of a few model agencies that would absolutely love her look."

"No!" Kurt responds immediately, tugging at Blaine's arm to direct him toward the couch. "You cannot tell Rachel that. She's only just recently deflated her head enough to become bearable." Blaine gives him a look that clearly asks Kurt to go on, but he shakes his head. "Not now. I'll fill you in sometime when we're actually alone."

"Mmm, speaking of alone," Blaine says as they sit down. He scoots closer until their knees touch, leans in and half-lids his eyes. From the other end of the apartment they hear Rachel's phone go off, but they both ignore it. "Do you want to come by my place tonight? I think it's time that we, well..." He rubs Kurt's knee, walks his fingers up Kurt's thigh, and Kurt shivers as Blaine finishes, low and whispery dark, "Switched things up a bit."

Kurt's eyes open wide, and his lips part as he looks at Blaine, at the serious, eager look on his face, and says, heart pounding, "You mean—?"

But before he can answer Rachel's voice carries loudly across the open space.

"Kurt!"

"What?" Kurt looks up, annoyed, to see Rachel running out of her room with her phone in her hand. "Can't you see I'm busy?" he adds, gesturing to where he and Blaine are seated on the couch.

"Yes, but—" Rachel sighs, brings the phone to her ear before lowering it again. "It's Finn. He says he's been calling you but you won't answer."

"Well, clearly, no," Kurt snaps. "I'm sitting in the living room trying to have a conversation with my boyfriend. I'm not going to go into my room and get my phone."

"He says that Burt and Carole are planning to visit in a few weeks."

Kurt jumps up, then, grabs Rachel's phone and jams it to his ear. "Finn?"

"Oh, hey, Kurt!" Finn's voice is cheerful, and Kurt wants to punch him. "Did Rachel tell you?"

"Yes," Kurt hisses, falling back to the couch and looking sideways at Blaine, who gives him a look in return that's equal parts confusion and nervousness. "What the hell, a few weeks? Dad just said the other day that he'd have to think about it first."

"Well, he said that Mom really wanted to come out here, and he's got enough guys in the shop that he can be gone for a week or so without any problem."

Kurt gets the feeling that his dad did this on purpose, and anger forms into a hard knot in the middle of his stomach. "Is Dad there?"

"Oh, yeah, hold on—"

"Hey, Kurt."

"Dad!" Kurt says, sharp. "A few weeks? That doesn't give me any time at all to prepare! And what if Blaine was busy? Then you would have come out here for nothing."

Burt makes a low mumbling noise that Kurt's almost positive is something less-than nice about Blaine, but he bites his tongue, sighs to calm himself down, and grips the phone tighter. Blaine's hand lands on his knee, warm and comforting, and Kurt looks over, smiles, and leans in to kiss Blaine brief and soft. "Look, kid, I'm sorry about the short notice, but it was now or never."

"It's really difficult not to say 'I hate you' right now," Kurt grouses.

Burt laughs. Kurt misses him, he does, and he's been dying to see his dad for months now, but he's been trying so hard to adjust to everything that throwing Blaine into the mix, the unconventional romance, he isn't sure what to do. There's a reason he hadn't told his dad right away, and it worries him to think of what Burt might do when he actually meets Blaine.

"We'll be there for about a week, give or take," Burt says over the staticky line. "We booked a hotel room, and don't even complain, I know your place isn't set up for visitors just yet."

Kurt sighs. "Okay. I'll have to ask Isabelle about reworking my schedule."

"Is Blaine there with you?"

Kurt looks over suspiciously. "...Yes?"

"Tell him he'd better keep a close eye on his fun bits, and I'd better not hear anything about him usin' them while I'm around."

"DAD!" Kurt says, a little more forceful than necessary. He closes his eyes in embarrassment, dropping against the back of the couch with a groan. "I'm not a little kid anymore, okay? I can take care of myself and make responsible, adult decisions, whether that is with my boyfriend in our private lives or out on my own in my life."

"I just care about you, Kurt. I don't want you gettin' your heart broken."

"I know, Dad, and I appreciate it. Just don't worry so much about me. I'm okay, and you know that if anything went wrong you'd be the first person I'd tell. I love you."

"I love you, too, kid. Be safe, all right?"

Kurt hangs up and hands the phone to Rachel, who's been standing the entire time watching. "What did your dad have to say?" she asks a little nervously.

Kurt shakes his head, sighs, and looks over at Blaine, whose hand is still on his knee, whose promise for tonight still hangs in the air. He grabs that hand, tangles their fingers together, and says, "Are you ready to meet my parents?"