“That's... unexpected,” Blaine replied, staring at him in surprise. “What brought this on?”

“I'm tired of being thrown in the dumpster every other day,” Kurt muttered. “Or slushied.” He paused. “Or people defacing my locker, like they did this afternoon.”

“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine said, his voice soft. “Do they know who did it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Did you tell someone?” Blaine asked. Kurt glared at him.

“Of course I did,” he said. “It was equally humiliating, standing there in the hallway while Mr. Schue, Miss Pillsbury and Coach Sylvester stared at my locker.”

“You think running for Class President will help?” Blaine brought the conversation back where it started.

“Yes,” Kurt said. “Once elected, I can put anti-bullying rules into place, and see about instituting a zero tolerance policy like Crawford has.”

“That's... amazing, Kurt,” Blaine told him, his head tilted to one side. Blaine was looking at him in a way that always made Kurt's insides flip flop.

“Thanks,” Kurt accepted the compliment. “Plus, I figure if I win it's one more thing I can put on my NYADA application to give me an edge. Colleges like a well-rounded applicant, right?”

“Of course they do.”

“I'm going to be doing a lot of campaign stuff over the next few weeks,” Kurt added. “I think I'm going to be really busy, in between glee and Cheerios.”

“So that's code for 'we won't be talking much,'” Blaine interpreted. Kurt flushed.

“I hope we can still talk as much. I just might be doing other stuff too... if that's okay?”

“Of course it's okay,” Blaine reassured him. “This is about your safety, and the safety of your school and even your future, Kurt.”

“Have I told you today that you're the best boyfriend ever?” Kurt sighed happily.

“Nope, I don't think you have.” Blaine smiled.

“Well you are,” Kurt insisted. “I don't know how I got so lucky.”

“Me either,” Blaine murmured. He was giving Kurt that look again. Kurt bit his lip and then looked at Blaine in what he hoped was a coy kind of way. Judging by Blaine's loud inhale, it had the effect Kurt was going for. His hands drifted toward the waist of his shirt and he shifted, pulling the fabric up with his hands. “Kurt, what are you doing?” Blaine whispered slowly, his gaze fixed on Kurt.

“Doubling your luck,” Kurt replied, lifting his shirt over his head and off. He folded it quickly and set it on his bed before his fingers found their way to the button on his jeans.

Blaine whimpered and Kurt looked up at him, slightly panicked. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, concerned.

“For the love of all that is holy, Kurt, don't stop,” Blaine choked out. Kurt chuckled, a deep throaty sound that even surprised him. He unfastened his jeans and pushed them down, along with his underwear.

It was a little awkward, standing there naked, looking at Blaine through a computer screen. Normally, he and Blaine were in the same room and Blaine was touching him so Kurt didn't really care that he didn't have any clothes on. They'd only had Skype sex a couple of times and it was still... weird. Kurt put the towel he'd grabbed from his bathroom earlier down on his chair and sat down.

“I think one of us is over dressed,” he teased. Blaine shed his clothes in a flurry of arms and limbs and Kurt couldn’t help letting out an amused laugh.

“You've barely been gone a week and I already can't stand not being able to touch you,” Blaine breathed out, perching on his bed. The picture shifted as he moved his laptop around and got comfortable. Kurt forgot he was feeling weird at that point, because Blaine had managed to angle his laptop so that most of him was in the frame, including a spectacular view of Blaine's hand stroking his cock.

Kurt was the one who made noise this time. Blaine smirked. Kurt couldn't look away.

“How did I become the star of the show?” Blaine teased him gently when he realized that Kurt wasn't doing anything but staring at him. Kurt flushed.

“Sorry, you're just...” he trailed off, unable to put what he was feeling into words. “This is awkward, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” Blaine murmured. “It's still new. Maybe it's not a thing that works for us.”

“No, I... I want to try this again. It worked out last time,” Kurt replied quietly.

“Okay, try this,” Blaine said, shifting again. Kurt bemoaned his loss of the 'perfect' view. “Turn your bedroom light off, and turn on the light in the bathroom.” He arched an eyebrow at Blaine, unsure where Blaine was going with this. “Just trust me.”

Kurt stood after a moment, doing as he instructed. Given where he was in the room, it was pretty dim, the bathroom light only coming in as far as the bed and stopping.

“Now what?” Kurt asked, settling back down on his towel-covered chair.

“Close your eyes,” Blaine instructed. Kurt stared at him, closing his eyes with a sigh after a moment.

“And?” Kurt pressed.

“Touch yourself,” Blaine prompted.

“What?” Kurt opened his eyes back up.

“Close your eyes,” Blaine said again. “Close your eyes, touch yourself, and pretend it's me.”

It took a moment but Kurt was finally able to get the nerve up to comply with Blaine's request. He licked his lips, then touched one with a finger, tracing along the sensitive skin. Blaine's quiet inhale let him know that Blaine was watching his every move.

Suddenly it was like Blaine was really there, touching him, caressing him, driving him further over the edge. It was so real, Kurt could almost smell him, could almost taste Blaine on his tongue.

Everything felt sharper, every breath louder. Kurt's orgasm sprang on him without warning, his hand tight around his cock, stroking it. His eyes jerked open at the sensation and locked on Blaine. Kurt's mouth fell open and he cried out.

Blaine swore quietly and came a moment later.

The two of them stared at each other before breaking out into laughter.

“Maybe we're better at that than we thought,” Blaine chuckled.

Kurt couldn't help but agree.

*

When Kurt went downstairs for a drink, all cleaned up and put back together, he expected to find Finn and his father where he'd left them – on the couch watching a football game. Instead, he found his father talking intently to someone on the phone, Finn looking concerned and the TV on mute.

“What's going on?” Kurt hissed at Finn, sitting down on the couch next to him. Finn shrugged and then shook his head.

“I understand,” Burt said. “Yeah, I know what you said earlier, Schuester.”

“Mr. Schue?” Kurt mouthed. Finn nodded, his eyes drifting to the game for a moment.

“I'll let you know,” Burt said, and then hung up.

“Dad, what's going on?” Kurt asked, standing up. “What did Mr. Schue want?”

Burt let out a sigh and put the cordless phone back in the cradle.

“He wants me to run for Congress.”