(5:16 P.M.) From Kurt

Bring your Mustang by tonight after we close. And keep it on the down low. No one needs to know but us.

***

Blaine sat on the rickety metal stool at Kurt’s station - the kind where all four legs didn’t seem to be the same length so it tilted back and forth with the slightest movement. Blaine shifted his weight uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting all over the shop, doing his best not to stare at Kurt’s body while he worked. He tried his hardest to focus his attention anywhere else. He looked up at the rows of ceiling lights, noticing how some were brighter than others, taking note (for no real reason) of the ones that would need to be changed soon. Then he looked at the red, white, and blue safety posters plastered on the walls. He memorized all the services Hummel Tires and Lube offered, including all their prices. Then he mentally tried to calculate the tax. Anything to keep from gawking at of Kurt's smoking hot body as he moved swiftly around, dipping in and out of Blaine's car, bending underneath the hood, connecting and reconnecting lines, until Blaine couldn't take it anymore. He got up off the stool to pace the floor like an expectant father, worrying the same three foot swath of cement over and over.

Kurt noticed Blaine bolt up off his stool from the corner of his eye and bit his lip.

"Don't worry, Blaine," Kurt assured him with a coy giggle when he noticed Blaine’s pained expression. "Your baby's in good hands."

"Ugh," Blaine moaned at the comment, thinking of Kurt’s hands all over his car.

Lucky car…

Blaine rubbed his face roughly with his fingertips, paving lines down his cheeks, needing the distraction.

Kurt stood up fully and turned to face Blaine.

"Or am I taking too long?" Kurt asked in a teasing tone. "If I remember correctly, you said you don't mind waiting."

Blaine peeked at Kurt over his fingertips, anguish etched in the corners of his eyes. Kurt smiled even wider, sadistically enjoying the torture he was apparently inflicting.

"No, no," Blaine said, reaching up to run a hand through his mop of hair, dislodging a curl or two from the thin layer of raspberry scented gel he used to keep it tamed, "you're not taking too long. It's just, uh..."

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his toe while he waited for Blaine to explain, fixing him with knowing eyes.

"You're trying to keep from staring at my ass?" Kurt offered with a smirk at the look of surprise on Blaine's face. Blaine’s mouth dropped open. He stumbled dumbly over verbal static while he tried to come up with an excuse.

“No, I…uh…um…uh…”

"Yeah, don't worry," Kurt interrupted, waving a dismissive hand through the air and rescuing Blaine from having to think of some lamely crafted lie. "I'm getting used to it." Kurt came back around to the driver side door. "Around the Dalton Crew, I'm like the shiny new toy.” Kurt laughed humorlessly. “Sebastian gets that same look on his face when I'm working on his lines."

Blaine dropped his hands and locked his jaw shut, his eyes becoming suddenly hard and cold. He didn't like being compared to that pompous asshole prick. But more than that, he didn't like the idea of Sebastian staring at Kurt's body, pressuring him, making him uncomfortable. Blaine thought about what it must be like for Kurt: the leering, the inappropriate comments, the uninvited touches, the constant invasion of his personal space. Blaine never had to go through that. He hated that Kurt did.

Blaine sighed, wishing more than anything that there was something he could do to help, or at the very least, some way to make the harassment stop.

"Is it worth it?" he asked softly.

"Hmm?" Kurt murmured off-handedly, only half-hearing what the other boy said while he replaced another line. “Is what worth it?”

"Putting up with all of…that,” Blaine said carefully, “just for money?"

Kurt stopped what he was doing, his body going rigid, hands frozen in mid-air with the line pinched between his fingers. He put the line down and stood from the car slowly. He turned and looked at Blaine. It didn’t dawn on Kurt what Blaine must truly think of him, knowing what he had to go through. His gaze drifted down to his feet and he smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. It seemed bitter, resentful.

"I have this dream," Kurt confessed, "and it's the only dream I've had since I was little. That's to be on Broadway."

Kurt caught sight of Blaine's gaze - warm and patient. The expression on Blaine’s face told Kurt that he could say whatever he needed to say with the promise of no judgment or ridicule, so he continued.

"Out in California, everything was gravy. I was on my way. I was going to Pace..."

Kurt wasn’t sure that Blaine would know anything about Pace, but Blaine’s eyes went wide at the mention of the name.

"The performing arts high school?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded, his cheeks coloring with pride.

“Props to you,” Blaine said with awe. “I heard that school’s one of the best performing arts schools in the nation.”

“It is,” Kurt affirmed.

“I also heard it’s a bitch to get into.”

"Yeah," Kurt huffed. "Had to audition to get in.” Kurt remembered that audition, clear as if it had happened yesterday. His heart thrummed with the memory of how absolutely petrified he was. Preparing for his audition to Pace back then had been as nerve-wracking as preparing for his upcoming audition to NYADA, and just like NYADA, he needed that school. It was a stepping stone on his road to success. He missed it every day. “I was scared to death, but I did it."

"So, what do you do? Dance?" Blaine subconsciously flicked his eyes quickly over Kurt's body, lingering longer than he intended on Kurt’s long, limber legs. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I sing," Kurt said with emphasis, looking back down at his boots and bobbing his head.

Wow, Blaine thought, trying to imagine Kurt singing, knowing that the vision in his mind probably wasn’t coming close. That must sound amazing.

"Anyway…" Kurt busied himself collecting up tools and wiping them down so he wouldn’t feel on display beneath Blaine’s eyes, "my dad had a heart attack...and then the shop went under. He had an opportunity out here so he took it.” Kurt shrugged, trying to make all the trials of his life thus far, all the things he cried about when he was alone in his bed at night, sound insignificant. “I had to leave school and all of my friends behind.”

Blaine whistled low.

“That sucks,” he commiserated. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Thanks, but the story gets better," Kurt said sarcastically. "I heard some BMX biker's boyfriend got my spot."

Blaine's brow furrowed in confusion, but then his eyes popped open, and an enthusiastic smile bloomed on his face.

"Wait, wait, wait," Blaine gushed, "have you been holding out on me? You're that Kurt Hummel?"

Kurt turned on him with furious eyes, and Blaine knew he had struck a nerve.

"No, I'm not," Kurt muttered in frustration, "and don’t ask because I don't want to talk about it." Kurt turned back to his task, angrily shoving tools into drawers.

"Good," Blaine laughed a little. "Thank God, because I don't know how I'd feel about falling for someone whose name is tattooed on some other guy's chest."

Even from where Kurt stood with his back partially facing Blaine, he could see the color rise up Kurt’s neck to pool in his cheeks, a bashful smile curving at the corner of his lips.

“So, I guess money’s tight for you guys, huh?” Blaine deduced.

Kurt’s bashful smile faded, and his shoulders slumped.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Kurt exhaled.

Blaine bit his lip and swung his feet, staring sympathetically at Kurt’s bowed back, watching his hands grab at the tools and wipe them down.

"Have you ever thought about selling your Eclipse?" Blaine shot a look over his shoulder at Kurt’s car sitting outside the bay, blue paint twinkling in the light from the shop that flooded out into the night. "I mean, you don't really race it, and I know a couple of guys in the market for a sweet car like yours."

Kurt spun on his heels and scowled, his face twisted with a look of utter mortification. Blaine leaped back, the stool beneath him lurching backward and almost spilling him onto the floor. He threw up his arms defensively, still smiling.

"Okay, okay, kitty,” Blaine laughed. “Back down. I get it.”

Kurt glared at the goofy yet nervous grin on Blaine’s face. His grimace stayed, but his body warmed at the nickname.

He would take ‘kitty’ over ‘porcelain’ any day.

"No." Kurt smiled again despite himself. "It's not like that. I probably could get good money for it, but...I don't know.” Kurt struggled to explain. “It’s pride? Vanity? I put that car together on my own. It's the only thing I started that I really finished. It represents me? Sort of?"

Kurt saw Blaine eyeing the car, nodding his head as if he understood.

"I'd do it as a last resort,” Kurt continued. “But it would take a lot...something really important for me to part with that car. And besides, I'm beginning to think..." Kurt shut the drawer on his tool cabinet harder than necessary, his body shuddering involuntarily. When he looked back at Blaine, Kurt had tears shimmering in his eyes. Blaine stood and walked slowly over to Kurt.

"Think what?" he asked softly.

Kurt hiccupped at first when he tried to speak.

"That my dreams are bigger than I am." Kurt's voice broke, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. Blaine reached out a hand and caught the tear on his thumb. Kurt watched as Blaine brought the tear to his mouth and kissed it away. Blaine brought a hand up to Kurt's cheek, running his fingertips gently down the soft skin. When the next tear fell, Blaine moved slowly, deliberately, bringing his lips to Kurt's cheek and kissing the tracks of his tears. Kurt closed his eyes, soaking in the feeling of Blaine's lips against his skin.

When Kurt didn't object, Blaine's lips became bolder. He trailed kisses down Kurt's cheek to his jawline. Blaine's hand moved down the skin of Kurt's face to his neck, and then skimmed lightly over the fabric of his overalls, traveling from his shoulder to his chest, stopping to rest above his heart.

Blaine smiled against Kurt's skin at the wild racing that he could feel beneath his fingertips.

"Is this okay?" Blaine whispered.

Kurt couldn't move. He couldn't think to answer. The sensation of Blaine's breath on his skin was suddenly making his entire body shiver. Kurt nodded, barely, afraid of deterring this beautiful boy.

Kurt felt Blaine's free arm slip around his waist, his hand resting on the small of Kurt's back as Blaine's mouth found Kurt's pulse point below his jaw on his neck and pressed soft kisses to it. Then he sucked on the same spot, lightly, experimentally.

Kurt breathed in sharply as the tip of Blaine's tongue lavished the area with swirls of soothing circles. He tried to lose himself in the sensation of Blaine’s tongue sliding over his skin, of Blaine’s heat seeping into his body from every touch of his fingers and his lips, but Sebastian's voice crept uninvited into Kurt's thoughts, like an ill-forgotten friend whispering in his ear.

'Blaine's not really the boyfriend type. He's more the love 'em and leave 'em kind.'

Kurt didn't think that Sebastian was all that credible. He knew deep down that Sebastian had his own interests at heart, and those interests seemed to include getting into Kurt’s overalls. Blaine hadn’t shown Kurt that he was much of a heartbreaker, but in truth he had only known him for a few days. What did he really know? Sebastian might be a bastard, but that didn't mean he wasn't telling the truth. Highly unlikely, but still...

Kurt was confused. He wanted his first kiss, and he wanted it to be with Blaine. Oh God, did he want it to be with Blaine. But he also knew that he didn't want to be a notch on anyone's anything, and this was moving a little too fast for him to think straight.

When he felt Blaine's lips come around to his, Kurt opened his eyes and pulled away, breaking the spell around them. As soon as he left the circle of Blaine's arms, all of his warmth seemed to evaporate, especially the comforting blanket that had wound itself around his heart.

"Um," Kurt stuttered, trying to regain his composure even with Blaine's smoldering eyes gazing longingly at him and his hand lingering at the small of Kurt’s back, "I think that's it for your baby. She should work fine now."

Blaine swallowed hard, trying to think of a way to get Kurt back into his arms.

"You want to take her for a spin?" he asked, his voice low, alluring, and a little bit breathless, luring Kurt in, but Kurt somehow found the strength to stand his ground. He stared down at his feet to center himself, wiping the remaining tears from his cheek with the sleeve of his overalls. Then he looked back up at Blaine, whose own eyes had started to cool back to their normal honey color.

"Catch me next time?" Kurt asked with a hopeful smile, nodding his head. "It's getting really late, and I have to be back early in the morning. Besides, my dad’s probably freaking out by now. I think I was supposed to be home an hour ago…"

Blaine nodded, pulling away. The hand that held Kurt's back disappeared, and Kurt slumped, cursing himself internally for not launching himself at this gorgeous boy who obviously wanted to kiss him.

Blaine took Kurt's hand in his, rubbing his thumb across Kurt's knuckles, sending sparks racing over his skin with every touch. He looked into Kurt's eyes with a genuine smile. He raised Kurt's hand to his lips and softly brushed them against his skin.

Kurt's brow furrowed slightly at the gesture.

"Wh-why do you keep doing that?" Kurt asked, curious, but never wanting Blaine to stop.

Blaine hummed against Kurt’s hand.

"Because I'm a gentleman," he said softly, "and you're a gentleman. And I want to treat you like one."

Blaine slipped his hand out of Kurt's grasp, reluctant to leave, and slid into the driver’s seat of his car. Kurt watched Blaine fire the engine and back out. He followed the Mustang out of the car bay as Blaine maneuvered his car around. Blaine waved, resting his fingertips lightly against the window. Kurt put his hand up to the window, mimicking the gesture, lining up his fingertips with Blaine’s where the rested on the smooth, cool glass. They lingered, neither one really ready to say good-bye. Blaine was the first to pull his hand away, and Kurt took a step back, his fingers hovering in the air. Blaine pulled his Mustang out onto the main road and drove away, keeping his eyes glued to Kurt’s darkening silhouette in the rear view mirror. Kurt watched the Mustang go until he could no longer see the glow of Blaine's tail lights in the distance.

Kurt stood out on the asphalt and continued to watch the empty road a few minutes longer, willing Blaine to somehow turn around and come back, the touch of his fingers branded onto Kurt’s body, and the feel of his lips still sparking beneath Kurt's skin.