Kurt doesn't see either of the Anderson brothers again until the end of the week, until he turns up on their drive with his dad honking the horn as Kurt stomps moodily up to the front door. He pounds on it, earning a grunt from Mr. Anderson as he pulls himself up from his chair in the living room, dropping his newspaper before going to answer it.

But before he can get there Cooper's rushing past him, barrelling down the stairs and sliding on his socks over the polished floor of the hall. "I'm here Kurt!" he yells as he quickly unlocks the door, swinging it wide open to be met by the sternest face Kurt can muster at such short notice.

"If we miss this flight, you are paying for the next ones. I cannot believe you told me the wrong time you comple-" Kurt's anger gets cut off midstream as Cooper laughs joyously, sliding his feet into his shoes before lugging his suitcase out the door, knocking it hard against the wood and shouting up to his mum before crossing the drive. He throws his stuff unceremoniously into the back of Burt's car, greeting the man in question with a lopsided smile. Burt responds with a raise of his eyebrows, followed by a deep chuckle, far too used to Cooper and his lack of memory and time-keeping and organisational skills.

Cooper then rushes back into the house as his mum races down the stairs, Blaine sleep-messed, slow and groggy behind her. As Mr. and Mrs. Anderson kiss and coddle and hug their son goodbye, Blaine catches Kurt's eye behind his parents back, smiling before blushing and blinking away.

Kurt can't help but find him painfully adorable again, feeling a strange churning begin in his stomach as he watches the awkward, unsure, still half-asleep boy fidget on the spot, toeing at the floor with his socked feet and fiddling with the hem of his loose pyjama top.

But then suddenly Blaine's being dragged into the arms of his brother, hair ruffled and back thumped before Cooper cups his now somewhat grumpy looking face in his hands. "Take care of yourself Blaine," Cooper tells his baby brother, bopping a kiss on the end of his nose, to which Blaine grumbles, scrunches his face and swats at his brother.

Cooper's parents quickly hug and kiss Kurt, telling him to thank his dad for the lift, wishing them a safe journey. Kurt smiles and nods and hugs back at all the right times, unable to stop himself as his eyes once again find Blaine's over his mother's shoulders.

He can't read his expression; he's frowning but smiles when Kurt looks at him. He does a tiny, almost unnoticeable shrug, which Kurt's quickly learning to be a habit of his, before tentatively holding out his hand, palm up in offering. The exchange is out of view behind Mrs. Anderson's back as Kurt reaches his hand out too, their fingers grazing delicately, too soft and not enough. Not nearly enough as Kurt's stomach is suddenly filled with sickness, his heart aching for the loss of something he's never really had

And then the simple brush of unsure fingers is gone, the phantom feel of Blaine's skin warm and rough against his own evaporating like smoke from an extinguished flame. And he's pulling back from the hug, smile now fake as he says goodbye one final time, before being shooed with Cooper out the door, down the drive, into the car, fingertips tingling. And he can't help but raise then to trace the edge of his lips as he looks up one final time.

He can see Blaine; through the windscreen and the space between them and the shoulders of his parents. His fingers are pressed to the corner of his mouth, before his eyes catch Kurt's. They're blisteringly golden and confused looking, torn and bemused and a little bit frightened before Burt starts the car and reverses out the drive.

He drives away from the house and the Andersons and the no longer never-been-kissed boy who stares lost out the front door. Long after the roar of the engine has disappeared with the wind, lips bitten red with desire and heart pounding unexplainably fast in his chest.

/

Kurt holds Coopers hand during takeoff, just like he always does. But he doesn't hold tight, he doesn't squeeze back reassuringly when Cooper's grasp becomes painful around his knuckles. He just takes it. He takes the pain and watches as Ohio disappears behind and beneath them, feeling his heart stammer in his chest and his mind try to work out the emotions firing like sparks in his veins, and if Cooper noticed the difference he didn't mention it.

So they got back to New York and rang their respective families to let them know they've landed and are safe. Kurt hangs up after a short call with his dad, before listening to Cooper talk to Blaine through the thin walls of his bedroom, adjacent to the living room.

He knows it's Blaine by the way Cooper laughs, the way he keeps mentioning senior year and 'that boy in your class', who from what Kurt can gather, Blaine no longer has a crush on, which Cooper teases him even more for. "Only last week you were lamenting about how pretty his blue eyes are," Cooper practically shouts, and Kurt feels his insides clench and hold tight to an unnameable emotion.

Kurt's half tempted to go out there, to shout a 'hello' to Blaine, ready to smile and roll his eyes when Cooper inevitably passes him the phone to say hi properly. It'd be so easy, he thinks, to get the chance to speak to Blaine on the phone. To be able to hear the tone of his voice and if he's lucky be able to make him laugh, to close his eyes and visualise his smile. But it's pointless, he eventually concedes as he throws himself back on his bed and turns his stereo higher, blocking out Cooper's laughter.

Because what would he say? He couldn't possibly speak to Blaine how he used to, before he kissed him. But then again he couldn't say the things he wants to say with Cooper in the room, the things he's actively stopping himself thinking about, because that's his best friends little brother.

So instead he waits until he's sure Cooper's no longer on the phone before emerging from his room, with a fake smile and a hollowness in his chest, taking a deep breath as Cooper grins at him, before getting on with his life.

/

Two weeks later Blaine meets someone, a boy his own age, tall with combed back hair and a cocky smile. He makes Blaine blush over coffee before making Blaine blush between kisses, and more.

Admittedly, this new boy doesn't make Blaine's heart beat like a drum, the vibrations spreading like music through his body beneath the thin skin stretched over his ribs. He doesn't make Blaine fall apart with just his lips. Nor does he make him yearn for the smell of the other boys skin or the rhythm of his heart, and he certainly doesn't make his skin goose bump with just the brush of not-enough fingertips.

But he's there, and he's real, and he's reach-out-and-touchable. And admittedly he does make Blaine's heart flutter slightly faster, his body tremble pleasantly, his mind get just a little fuzzy round the edges.

This new boy's like a rainstorm, a little frightening and a little exciting but very forgettable.

Whereas Kurt's the hurricane that wakes you in the dead of night, his name on your lips and the unforgettable press of his body against yours. The thump of his heart beneath your hand and the lightening which sparks up your spine and spreads white-hot through your veins, until every touch is an electric shock, every kiss a crash of thunder and every moment a white-out behind your eyes as your body trembles with electricity.

Blaine tries not to think about Kurt, but it's hard to not think of the exhilaration and excitement and the exact crash of a hurricane when you're stuck in the mediocrity of a rainstorm.

Kurt, on the other hand, doesn't meet someone, a guy his own age. He meets many guys, some who make him smile, some who make him laugh and some who just make him come, and then some who don't even do that.

But none of them make him crave. None of them make him want to reach out and touch and taste and take. Their smiles don't take his breath away and their touches don't make his body shudder, his mind stutter or his heart thunder. They're not special or notable or worth a second glance.

He tells himself he doesn't know why when a handsome guy smiles at him across the bar his heart doesn't pound. And he tells Cooper that he's just not interested in a relationship at the minute. And then he tells his body to stop aching for an awkward shrug followed by a shy smile, a boy with a body that's never been touched.

/

It's early summer, just before his exams when Blaine ends up ringing his big brother uncharacteristically late one night for help with some English work. Cooper answers, up late anyway, cramming for his own English exams.

Midway through their conversation, somewhere in between discussing the significance of sibilance and Cooper reciting related quotes for his brother, the apartment door bangs open.

Blaine hears it even down the phone, the thwack of the door hitting the wall, the ricochet as it slams back shut as Cooper jumps up, the drama queen in him assuming the worst before throwing his bedroom door open, just in time to see a stranger drop to his knees in front of Kurt.

Kurt doesn't realise he's got an audience, especially not a boy sat frozen at a desk over 500 miles away, Kurt's unashamed moans reaching his virgin ears. Blaine gasps, transfixed, before screwing his eyes shut and pushing away the mental images those noises produce as Kurt stutters into the darkness of an assumed empty apartment.

"Oh- oh fuck," he groans gutturally as Cooper watches, frozen in shock as the man on his knees takes Kurt's cock into his mouth, ball deep, groaning around the length as Kurt moans and thrusts above him. "F-fuck, yes. Right th- oh god," Kurt practically screams, leant against the wall, head thrown back and eyes glazed, unfocused before they fall on Cooper.

"What the fuck?" Kurt yells upon realisation of the eyes on him, yanking the man off his cock by his hair and tugging his boxers hastily up. "What the fuck are you doing Cooper?" he asks, furiously pulling up his jeans and knocking the guy away as he fumbles to kiss him, before furiously making his way over to where Cooper's still stood frozen in his doorway.

But Cooper regains the use of his limbs and quickly bolts back into his room, slamming the door and leaning back against it, firmly gripping the phone still pressed hot to his ear. "Oh god," he whispers to himself before there's a pounding on his door.

"Next time I'm getting my dick sucked Coop," Kurt shouts angrily through the wood, "I'd rather not see your face watching me through the darkness!" he finishes aggressively with a hollow kick to the wood.

Copper can't help but snort a small laugh before he hears Kurt very unceremoniously escort his guest out of the apartment, another door slamming before silence reigns thick and awkward around the small apartment.

"Is he gone?" a small voice suddenly asks, startling Cooper who's completely forgot Blaine was on the phone.

"Huh? What? Did you er- did you hear all that?" Cooper asks, running a hand through his hair as he crosses back to his desk, falling heavily into his chair.

"Yeah, I er- I heard it," Blaine confesses, voice still unusually quiet.

"Kurt scared the shit out of me," Cooper breaths, laughing gently and shaking his head, putting a hand over his heart and feeling as it calms.

"Is he gone?" Blaine repeats, voice a little stronger than before.

"Who? Kurt?" Cooper asks, a little bit confused and not really listening as he hears his flatmate banging around in his own room, before the sound of the shower being flicked on fills the apartment.

"No the er- the other guy?" Blaine asks nervously, trying hard to keep his voice steady, not letting his mind wander and form the image of Kurt splayed out in the dark, cock hard and curved against his stomach, voice deep and rough like he's just heard, but begging for Blaine instead of the stranger.

Cooper laughs somewhat hollowly, "yeah, he's gone," he laughs again, rubbing his tired eyes, "poor guy," he adds.

Blaine just laughs back, completely fake as he mentally disagrees with his brother. Anyone who can make Kurt Hummel moan like that is not a 'poor guy' in any sense of the words, in fact, anyone who can get their hands, or indeed their mouth, on Kurt is in Blaine's mind the luckiest guy alive.

After a few minutes Blaine pleas exhaustion and says bye to Cooper, promising he'll ring after his exam to let him know how it goes. He then packs away his school things, knowing he won't be able to focus, no matter how hard he tries, before crawling into bed, allowing his mind to stray.

It's doesn't take long for his hand to slink down the front of his pyjamas as he forces himself to recall the memory of Sebastian, his boyfriend, on his knees between Blaine's legs; lips pink and stretched and eager as he bobbed up and down on Blaine's cock. Moaning for all he's worth, no doubt re-enacting some of his favourite porn. It had been a little too sloppy and a lot too quick, but Blaine didn't complain. It was, by all accounts, Sebastian's first blowjob too.

And Blaine had come, quite spectacularly, although it was the first time anything but his own hand had touched his cock, so what did he expect? That is the aim of getting your dick sucked after all, and it was from another boys mouth, which he very nearly came in.

But tonight as Blaine's hand moves tight and fast along the length of his cock, other hand fisting the sheets in the darkness of his bedroom, the boy he's imagining between his legs suddenly morphs and distorts and alters. He becomes slightly paler and grows older, lips pinker and eyes bluer and becomes devastatingly gorgeous, until all of a sudden it's Kurt's face between his legs and he's struggling to hold back moans as he thrashes and writhes and falls apart. Falls apart just from the thoughtof Kurt's perfect, slick lips curled around him, tongue which has chartered the territory of Blaine's mouth lapping up his length, hands hot and dizzying on his thighs.

And then the fantasy in his mind alters again, and suddenly it's himon his knees, Kurt tall and lean and endlessly long above him. Unfathomably blue eyes trained on Blaine between his thighs as he runs his fingers along his hairline, like he had that first day on Blaine's bed, before running round and into his hair, pulling him forward. But this time it's not to his lips, but to his hard, curved cock, nestled in dark hairs and waiting for Blaine's virgin mouth.

And as these images paint patterns beneath his eyelids and phantom touches race over Blaine's skin, lust and desire and want and pure, undiluted needrushes through his blood and explodes inside Blaine's body. In every cell as he bucks and moans and comes; the image of himself on his knees opening his mouth, feeling the weight of Kurt hard and hot on his tongue as his orgasm hits him again, wave after wave sparking and firing up his spine as his muscles tense and his mouth closes around a fantasy.

And then it's over. The fantasy floats lighter than air from his mind although the startling blue of Kurt's eye remain burnt into his irises, as his body slumps and relaxes and falls back down to earth. Small waves of pleasure still skittering up his thighs every so often as he recovers from the most bone-shuddering orgasm of his life.

He rolls over eventually and pads into his bathroom, feeling ashamed beneath fluorescents, feeling his skin prickle with guilt that he's just jerked off to someone who isn't his boyfriend, someone who is his brothers best friend. Then again, it isn't the first time for either of those things, so he doesn't dwell on the thought.

He washes quickly, wary of waking his parents with the rush of water through the pipes before climbing exhausted and sated and a little bit thrilled into bed, kicking the blankets down to his hips before falling to sleep, heart still racing a little higher than usual, his body throbbing for the taste of Kurt in his mouth.