Dreams are a strange species.

Kurt had learnt this very early on in his life. Of course, it was only later that he came to realize what was so strange about them. But even when he was unable to verbalize it, or consciously process it, he somehow knew dreams were to be respected and acknowledged.

When he got older he tried to learn about them from all kinds of sources. He listened to side remarks of teachers, he listened to his Dad’s clever words, he talked about his dreams with friends, he researched it on the internet. Art, psychology, literature, sciences all considered them important part of life, and Kurt thought who am I to meddle with that?

He knew better than to take dreams literally, but he paid close attention nonetheless, and got pretty good at deciphering his own visions during sleep. From mild experiments he knew when he was likely to remember his dreams, and if at all, what sorts of things would feature in his dreams, and how much he should listen to those dreams.

As an adult he settled with the psychologically accepted interpretation of why humans dream. Kurt believed these visions were his brain’s way of dealing with and processing conscious and subconscious events and happenings of his wakeful life.

That being said, he couldn’t have denied the fact that Blaine’s quickly become a very important part of his life, even if he wanted to. It was Wednesday night, and since they said their good-byes Sunday evening, Kurt had had a sleep vision of the boy every damn night. The dreams varied from long, clear narratives to quick, blurred images, some of them were featuring Blaine explicitly, and clearly, in others there was an obscure figure who, Kurt felt with absolute certainty, was Blaine.

Sunday night the dream began with a beautiful interior, a living room of sorts, as if it was a home-made movie, visually evoking a bad quality but heartfelt tape, with orange-y, brownish shades, the whole atmosphere was warm and pleasant, and almost Christmassy, but rather an early spring evening, when the air still gets chilly by night, and there’s still need for a lovely, working fireplace.

That’s what Kurt zoned in on next in the dream. In front of him, across the room was a fireplace, with lively flames dancing around in it, and in front of the fireplace were two comfy armchairs, and in the left one sat Blaine. Cozily, one leg bent over the knee, and he was staring into the flames, so tranquil, so peaceful.

Kurt knew in his dream that he was supposed to go and sit in the other chair, because Blaine was waiting for him, and as he stepped closer, he realized there were two cups of hot cocoa in his hands, one for himself, the other for Blaine. He approached him with silent steps, reveling in the time he still got before Blaine would sense his closeness. He took the remaining steps slowly, never diverting his gaze from the boy, who was breathtakingly gorgeous in this light, obviously comfortably dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, his hair curly as ever, but his face. His face was the one that prompted Kurt to stop for a short moment, and consciously take a photo of this scene in his mind.

He reached the boy, and must have said something softly, because Blaine looked up from the flames, to Kurt, with the most reassuring smile, not frightened at all. But Kurt didn’t hear himself, nor Blaine’s words, because the dream remained silent throughout. Not disturbingly so, it just was.

After Kurt held out one of the mugs to Blaine, he himself settled in the other armchair, tugged his legs under himself, and felt like he arrived. Not just with the two cups, but to his rightful place. He felt like he never wanted to leave again. He turned to Blaine with all his body and attention, and though several feet away, he felt himself drown in the others company.

They chatted, and chatted, Kurt knew not about what, he didn’t hear anything, but he felt his own thoughts forming, and he knew with absolute certainty that rarely did he feel such bliss in his life than here and then, in Blaine’s company.

When he woke up Monday morning, he was absolutely well-rested. He knew it was due to the fact that it was his Spring-break this week, and all the pressure and chaotic schedules just melted away. But he also knew that the fact he got to spend time with his high-school buds, and Kath, and Blaine added to this unbelievable state. He felt incredible.

And as he was still lying in his bed, enveloped in the atmosphere his dream left behind, he thought he was the luckiest man to have Blaine as his friend, because the company of the boy made him feel all kinds of awesome. The dream sort of solidified in him this feeling that the Sunday night walk was one of the best conversations he’s ever had in his life.

The gorgeous-boy-sitting-in-an-armchair-lit-beautifully-by-fire-colors did not make it to his conscious mind after waking up.

Kurt spent his Monday kind of preparing for the rest of the week. He made sure the McKinley guys had a comfortable morning and left when they planned to. Then Kurt spent the next few hours cleaning up the mess they made. Since he has a full week ahead of him, he knew he wouldn’t want to get started on any of his assignments, he needed a day totally off. So he sat down with a piece of paper, and scribbled down all the things he wanted to catch up with during Spring break. Movies, newly opened restaurants, readings, designs. And, of course, he couldn’t keep the thought of Blaine out of his head. But since the boy said, he’d be in touch, Kurt didn’t want to bother him.

Which didn’t mean he didn’t spend a great deal of time thinking back to the previous day, smiling every time something very typically (as he now got to know) Blaine popped into his mind.

The day went buy with mundane things, and after a movie with Kathy, they both went to bed, relatively early.

Monday night Kurt’s dream was really a collection of short little visions. The whole thing was silent again, as in no human words were spoken. But interestingly enough, all the little segments had their voices, sounds, background noises, all relevant to the scenes respectively.

There was a high-school setting, with a McKinley like hallway, were Kurt was almost overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions. He felt the usual dull terror of his former life, his fear of the jocks, but he also was excited to see his friends, and was even more excited about the musical notes that were coming from a nearby room. The choir room. The scene blurred.

There was a studio-like room, with students sitting in a circle, hunching over drawings, and concentrating. Kurt could hear the scraping noise of pencils, the soft breathing of focused work, and there was a huge life-size dummy in the middle of the circle, dressed in what seemed like an over-simplified designer outfit. Kurt knew he needed to transform it into something more magnificent. So he set to work. The scene blurred.

There was a huge dinner table in a room that was pleasantly familiar. He knew if he’d go into the kitchen he could listen to Carol’s cooking movements, and if he went into the living room, he’s hear his father’s voice over the television. But he stood in the middle of the room, filled with the joy of home. The scene blurred.

There was a room with two beds, Kurt was standing in the little space between the beds, and was looking down on a sleeping figure on one of the beds. It was Kate, without a doubt, Kurt felt the familiar feeling in his chest he always felt in Kath’s presence. He was excited about something, and wanted to share it with the girl, but the girl was too peaceful to be disturbed, so Kurt decided to leave it to the morning. He simply smiled, leaned down, and placed a feather-light kiss on the girl’s forehead. The scene blurred.

There was a huge open space, with sunshine, and the sounds of a beach. Kurt heard laughter, and the splashing of water, but his hearing soon zoned in on one voice only. One laughter. Deep and melodious, and powerful. One of the most powerful things Kurt has ever heard. And when he turned his head in its direction, he felt his heart skip a beat. He knew he’d be seeing a guy in the water, so why the hell was he even surprised the guy was half naked?

Yes, there he was, Blaine, splashing around in the water like an over-excited puppy. Except, his movements were elegant and controlled while being absolutely free. And he looked like he belonged there. His upper body was sculptured in a way that the soft waves contoured the lines of his torso, and the water was just high enough to tease the onlooker with a starting v-shape that led down, and disappeared in the water. Kurt thought he might be unable to comprehend the blinding perfectness of the image.

But when he woke up Tuesday morning, all he remembered were flashes of feelings, nothing concrete, and wondered why he remembered this image of Blaine from the hiking trip. But since minutes after him waking up the dream was one big blur, gradually seeping through his fingers, like sand, he didn’t pay much thought to it the rest of the day.

All he sensed was that Blaine was on his mind. All day. Not intrusively, but constantly, a thought at the back of his mind.

But the previous day Kurt and Kath decided to go for an all-day shopping spree. Which was not all shopping, obviously, but a little of everything. Talking, not talking, having an ice-cream, shopping, going for a light walk, and stuff like that.

So they got back home pretty late. Kurt though of writing something to Blaine all day, but since it was already late, he didn’t see the point. Kath popped in a movie, a romcom this time, and they went to bed again before midnight.

Tuesday night Kurt’s dream was one, relatively long narrative. This time the sounds of the scene were more elaborate, and he heard human voices and words, but spoke none, and was addressed He found himself in a party, not the loud and drunk kind, but the chatty, all kinds of unknown people together kind. He was holding a cocktail in his hand, and was looking around the room full of people. He searched for familiar faces, but found very few, and none he felt like he wanted to talk to.

Until his eyes fell on the figure of Blaine across the room.

Instantly, Kurt felt like he was the polar end of a magnet, the other end of which was the boy standing 10 or so feet away from him.

Blaine was talking to somebody, a guy, and they seemed pretty cozy. Their body language screamed that they knew each other, and pretty well. Kurt felt a certain pressure rise in his chest, something that he knew from previous relationships. Jealousy. But this time it wasn’t an overwhelming, sharp ache. It was dulled by something much stronger.

Kurt couldn’t concentrate on anything else but the feeling that he wanted to be close, closer to Blaine. Even though he talked to somebody else, Kurt felt this urge to go up to him, to crawl under his skin and stay there, or touch him, smell him, feel his presence on his own skin. He couldn’t bear simply looking at him, because his senses were on overload with the image in front of him. Blaine was dressed in a tight beige jeans and a simple white v-neck. Both fitting him so perfectly that Kurt literally felt the pain of beholding a perfect vision. Every muscle in Blaine’s body seemed to invite Kurt to look, to admire, with every little motion his whole figure moved in barely visible, elegant gestures, and Kurt, again, felt that he needed to capture the moment.

But he knew full well that a photo would not do justice to the phenomenon. Just like when you smell something amazing, and you have the urge to taste it, assuming it would provide an equally unearthly experience, Kurt knew that seeing Blaine wouldn’t be enough, he wanted to devour him, in every sense of the word.

Apparently Blaine was comfortable enough with his conversation partner to show off some of their connection to the room, because after what seemed like a shared, soft laugh, he leaned in to his partner, slowly, sensually, looked into his eyes, until he couldn’t anymore, and closed the distance between their lips. His hand came up to cup the guys cheek, with a firm but gentle touch, and lips slightly parted he kissed him for a long long long moment. It wasn’t necessarily lustful, nor chaste. It was a shared moment between two people who were having fun in each other’s company.

In the moment Blaine’s lips touched the other guy’s, and the hand traveled upward, Kurt felt his heart skip a beat. He somehow felt, the moment was just right, he didn’t want to be there, in the place of the other guy, he wanted to be the outsider, who had the benefit of being able to observe every little detail of the scene.

And it took his breath away. Blaine looked like the perfect kisser, determined, but patient, and the way his whole body took part in the movement made Kurt’s mind reel.

Kurt felt more secure in busying himself with something utterly different than ogling the dark haired boy. He didn’t want to be too wrapped up in the couple. Not out of jealousy. But because he felt he might end up doing something silly. Like offering to join in. So he turned his back to Blaine and who Kurt assumed to be his boyfriend.

But not more than a minute passed with idle wandering, when Kurt stopped, put down his cocktail, and looked around the room again. He couldn’t see the couple this time. So he took a breath, thought of what he might want to do next, when he felt a pair of strong arms sneak around his middle from behind. And without a shred of doubt he knew Blaine found him.

Sure enough, he closed his eyes contentedly, and only felt the way Blaine put his chin on his shoulder, leaning his weight deliciously onto Kurt, Blaine’s curls tickling his cheek.

Kurt felt the previous incredibly frustrating longing disappear, he felt like as a magnet he found his balancing force, and was finally in place. He smiled widely, and with his eyes still closed he could tell Blaine was smiling too, because the boy’s soft skin touched his face as his grin widened.

When he woke up Wednesday morning, he was well rested, yes, and for the first time that week he remembered most of his dream. He assumed. Because he could remember a kiss witnessed between Blaine and another person, he could remember feeling Blaine made the whole room a better place to be in, and he could remember being hugged by Blaine was the most natural thing in the world.

Although, the whole jealous not jealous thing kind of confused Kurt. What was that all about? And the other guy? Why did he imagine Blaine with another guy? Anyway, Kurt kind of felt, that however open he was with himself about Blaine being important to him, this three nights in a row thing was kind of creepy. He had an idea, though. He thought if he just contacted Blaine, finally after Sunday’s good-bye, his mind would be at ease again, and he wouldn’t be wrapped up in this strange borderland, between his real memories, and blurry memories of dreams in his head.

So he decided to text Blaine Wednesday morning.

From Kurt:

(11:06)

Hey,Blaine!Plans settled yet with Coop?When r u guys leaving? Wanna meet up today or tomorrow? C u ~ k

The moment he hit send, he realized why he waited so long to contact the boy. Memories of the previous texting fiasco were still bothering Kurt, and even though Blaine apologized, and promised not to flip out on Kurt, he still had his doubts. Or, to be more accurate, he still hated the fact that Blaine’s potential flipping out would largely influence the rest of his day…

So he was actually indescribably relieved, when Blaine did text him back.

From Blaine:

(11:14)

Gosh,Kurt,i wish!But Coop wants us 2 leave early in the morning 2morrow,&i already have 2day packed: (i’ll write a mail as soon as i can.have a great break!xo~b

Well, that was settled then… Kurt was disappointed that he wouldn’t see Blaine for a whole week, but couldn’t do anything about it, so he went back to busying himself with useful stuff. And it worked. He did a little studying, a little organizing, a little designing, all in all the day was successful, and Kurt wasn’t really frustrated when every now and again Blaine flashed into his mind, and he remembered how much he missed the boy already. It was a sort of dull longing, nothing to worry about.

By Wednesday he realized that the longer he slept each night the more restful he woke the next morning, but not for the obvious reasons. This was something he already knew, by experience, and by small research. That dreaming would ease his mind, and even if he couldn’t consciously process everything he envisioned during the nights, he could be sure his brain was doing some beneficial work.

Waking up Thursday morning, he again remembered his dream from last night. But the fact that he could evoke the clear visual material didn’t mean he wasn’t confused about it.

This time, it wasn’t about Blaine. At all. Nope.

“Kath, would you mind terribly if I asked you something?” Kurt went to Kate for help.

“Kurt, baby, when have I ever minded that?”

“But this is silly…”

�“No offense, honey, but we’ve seen precedent to that as well. Plus, silly is not bad. Silly is just uncertain, isn’t it?” Kate argued.

“Yeah, I guess.” Kurt agreed. He wanted the girl’s insight, so he gave in. “I had this dream last night…”

“Oh, boy. This is good.” Kate got all excited. She knew her more instinctual approach might do some good to Kurt, if this was about dreams.

“And it was, I don’t know, I guess kind of cryptic. Because if I should take it literally, I don’t know, it wouldn’t confuse me if I only looked at the primary level, you know? But if it’s stands for something else, then I’m not sure I know…”

“Okay. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. There was a huge dressing room, full of clothes, many different colors. But I didn’t really pay attention to that. Because there was this huge standing mirror towards the back of the room, and I felt like I was drawn to it, you know, like I needed to see myself. Desperately. And I wanted to, but at the same time I was kind of nervous what I’d see. So I kind of hesitated, but went towards it anyway, and when I came to stand in front of it, it wasn’t anything special. It was a normal mirror, I could see myself, clear and plain, and I wasn’t even wearing anything spectacular. I was in my normal clothes. Except, I stood there, looking at myself, and something was off. I didn’t know what. I just felt it. My clothes were decent, my hair was okay, my skin looked nice, but I knew it wasn’t okay. But I couldn’t realize what it was. And all I could hear was my own words, not even spoken out loud, only in my head, I heard myself chanting, or something. ‘Just say it, Kurt, just say it. You know what’s going on, just say it already. You know what’s off, just say it. It will be easier if you admit it. It’s okay this way, but it will be awesome once you admit it. Say it.’ And I swear, I felt it at the tip of my tongue, I could almost grasp what was missing, what was off, or what I longed for, but no. It was very frustrating, needless to say…”

“Wow. Okay. Let’s see.” Kate seemed pensive, with brows furrowed, but she definitely seemed less puzzled than Kurt.

“You mean you know what this means?” Kurt asked, his voice so hopeful that Kate had to smile lovingly at him.

“Kurt, sweetheart, I don’t think with dreams ‘what does it mean’ is the most legit question. But I know you, and we live together, I definitely have a hunch of where this might have come from.”

“You do?”

“Hey, I’m no expert, and it these things definitely don’t work like what you’re expecting of me right now. I won’t and can’t tell you the solution, first of all, because there’s none, but most importantly, because it’s your soul’s workings, and you’ll know what to do with it.”

“Then just tell me what you think.” Kurt was almost pleading. Not that he generally gave that much thought to dreams, he wouldn’t have to this one either, but now Kate got him all worked up.

“I won’t. That wouldn’t help. And you know it. But here’s what I can do. I can ask you questions, and maybe those will help. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” Kurt said giving in. “Shoot.”

“Okay. First of all, in dreams it might be more important to remember the feeling you had witnessing what you did. Why was it important that you saw so many colors in the room?”

“I don’t know, it wasn’t really. I mean, I guess it just made me feel comfortable. And excited.”

“Did you have a feeling you were at work? Or school? Or home?” Kate asked next.

“I kind of thought I was on a set. Fashion related.”

“Okay. And was it a problem that you didn’t wear one of the colorful dresses?”

“No, I mean it wasn’t the clothes. Or not really. Because I felt like, yes, I’m close, but only close. There’s something missing. Like an accessory. Like something’s too much. Or that I need one more little thing. But I couldn’t figure out what.”

“Okay. And you said, you felt this urge to find out what that was.”

“Yes. But the really frustrating part was that I knew that I knew. You know? I knew that if I could just truly look at what I see and honestly look, the answer would be right there. I just had to make a tiny little step towards it. But I couldn’t.”

“Well, baby, I’m sorry, but I have to say, I think that’s your ‘solution’, or whatever you want to call it.”

“Kath, don’t do this to me? How could that solve anything? I just said I didn’t know what was missing.”

“Yes, but you said ‘the really frustrating part’. You just said what the core of the dream was. You won’t get closer than that. You just ‘solved’ what your brain tried to communicate.”

“Kate. I knew already that I was frustrated. That’s hardly news. I wanted to find out, why…” Kurt wasn’t upset, just didn’t know what to do.

“But Kurt, you know exactly why. You said it yourself. You said you weren’t honest. With the mirror. The mirror image, to be more exact. With yourself.” Kate said, as if this was the easiest and most reassuring thing she could’ve said.

“Well, yeah… but…” Kurt didn’t continue. He didn’t have anything else to say. His mind tried to process this. And again, he felt like he was close, but not quite…

Thursday afternoon, after a pretty exhausting half day of studying, Kurt decided to take a nap. It wasn’t anything he would’ve felt guilty about, had it happened more often. He just generally didn’t have the time.

So, deep in his sleep, that afternoon, he dreamt again.

He was with Blaine again. The setting was the simplest yet. Only a bed. A king sized bed. It wasn’t any particular bed, it was comfortable, with covers and pillows on it, and Kurt was sure it wasn’t floating on air, but he couldn’t see anything beyond the boundaries of the bed. Probably, because it wasn’t important.

He and Blaine was sitting on the bed, both boys had their backs to the headboard. Their sides and stretched out legs were only a feet away. They weren’t talking, they were both looking ahead, watching something, probably a movie.

Kurt had been in situations like that before. Of course he had been. Come on. This would’ve been a typical movie night. But his dream self knew that whatever the movie was, it could’ve been his favorite musical, he wasn’t gonna pay attention.

All he sensed in the room was Blaine’s presence. From the corners of his eyes Kurt could see Blaine, but honestly, his vision was his least involved sense right now. His ears mostly shut out the humming of the movie in the background, all he heard was the soft breathing of the gorgeous dark-haired boy next to him, and his occasional chuckles and giggles, which were the most adorable little things Kurt has ever heard. The smell that surrounded Kurt was purely Blaine, insistent but not invasive, gentle but naturally masculine. But the most painful of all, was how Kurt’s skin felt like. Painful, because he couldn’t act on any of the temptations. He couldn’t overtly look at the beautiful boy, he couldn’t nuzzle the crook of Blaine’s neck to breathe in everything he is. But, yes, above all, he couldn’t act on this ache he felt all over his body. The magnet that feels the closeness of its polar opposite. The body that instinctively feels the closeness of another’s heat and softness. His every fiber was buzzing with the oppressed desire he felt, all he could do was shut his eyes every few minutes and take deep breaths to calm himself somewhat. To no use, of course.

He felt the dam break.

The sheer force of the attraction was more than Kurt could handle. He gave in, and turned his head towards Blaine. He looked at him openly, and the sight in itself was enough to wash away any hint of embarrassment or self-consciousness. Blaine sensed the change in Kurt’s posture, and turned his head as well. They were looking into each other’s eyes, deep and searching. Blaine for an explanation, Kurt for any sign of disdain. But he was too much lost to even care.

His body moved on its own account, he leaned towards Blaine, slowly, savoring every second he could spend staring into those honey orbs. Then finally the scent overpowered him, he closed his eyes, and let his movement be led by the heat he felt stronger and stronger coming from Blaine’s direction. He raised one of his hand to cup Blaine’s cheek, slowly, sensually, and then moved it further back, towards the nape of Blaine’s neck, where Kurt, with his eyes still closed, touched the soft curls.

At that moment he felt he was infinitely lost, and animal instinct took over. His movements didn’t quicken, but the feeling rising in his stomach, the blood rushing through his veins made his heartbeat fasten to an indescribable pace, and all he felt was pure lust. His hand fisted the soft curls he only touched before, and tugged. It wasn’t hurtful, but was a strong grasp, aiming to ease some of the tension that Kurt couldn’t channel. He wanted to be closer, under Blaine’s skin, lost forever, touching, kissing, grasping, groping, tasting, and holding. Forever holding the boy close.

He couldn’t help himself anymore, he needed to kiss, lick, devour, he needed to feel Blaine’s lips against his own. So he leaned in, persistently. Almost, he knew, he felt Blaine’s sweet breath hovering against his face, the heat was almost unbearable. Almost. He knew the touch he longed for was there, any second now. Only an inch away. And that was where his dream ended.

When he woke up from that dream, he was breathing heavily, and felt absolutely overwhelmed. His mind was reeling, but he couldn’t ignore his body either. The longing he remembered from the dream, the physical desire was nothing he’d ever felt before. No matter how much he enjoyed being intimate with former boyfriends, some of whom were absolutely gorgeous, he never felt that kind of limitless, uncontrollable, animal desire.

But just as the hint of this thought entered his mind it was pushed aside by the unbearable guilt. That he had a dream, such an explicitly sexual dream about Blaine, his friend, Blaine, Blaine, who was states away, and would definitely not approve to be thought of or dreamt of like that, Kurt was sure.

Kurt took a few minutes calming his breathing, calming his mind, and as the memory of the dream drifted away by the minute, he decided to go for a walk, to clear his head, and to occupy his mind with anything other than Blaine. Whom, Kurt felt, he betrayed with this dream.

The walk was a good idea, it definitely helped Kurt. The soft spring breeze helped him focus on other things. Designs he wanted to work on, musicals he would enjoy to re-watch, things he needed to tell his Dad about.

But when he got back to his room, Kate was there, and suddenly, due to their conversation earlier that day, his memories of the dreams came back. The mirror, and the bed. The frustration and the outburst.

He made a conscious effort of spending the rest of the night productively with Kate. They had fun, and just hung out, lazily.

But because he slept a little in the afternoon, Kurt didn’t find it very easy to fall asleep that night. He was tossing around for hours, his brain reeling like a maniac’s, but with nothing in particular to think about, he just saw flashes and colors and lights.

It was well after midnight that he finally fell into a restless sleep.

So it was kind of interesting that his dream was just the opposite. Not restless but peaceful, not frustrating but filling him with absolute satisfaction.

A bed. Again. Blaine. Again. But so so different.

Kurt knew, even in his dream he reflected on this fact, that the dam he previously felt breaking through was the tension and frustration evaporating from his body. He gave in to something he knew was there, and he knew this is what he felt standing in front of the mirror as well.

He gave into this unfathomable need for the closeness of Blaine, and once he did that, the governing feeling wasn’t frustration anymore.

Blaine was lying on his side, knees bent a little. He was the little spoon. Kurt was lying behind him, his chest pressed to the soft but firm heat of Blaine’s back. Blaine was asleep, Kurt knew, because his breathing was even. Kurt, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. Both of them were wearing a t-shirt and boxer briefs.

Kurt felt so alive.

He had his arm around Blaine’s waist, his hand resting on the boy’s chest. But no fro long. Kurt felt his blood boiling, and he knew why. He knew it was nearly impossible, but he felt the heat emanating from Blaine’s body. But not where Kurt was touching him. He, for some reason, couldn’t stop thinking about snaking his hand over Blaine’s hips, upper thigh, he wanted to caress and feel the boy under his fingers, and he wanted to see whether Blaine’s body would react involuntarily if he “accidentally” rested his hand on the boy’s crotch.

Kurt didn’t want to stop himself anymore. He needed this, he needed the closeness and the intimacy. So his hand started to travel, slowly, slowly, enjoying every inch, even over the t-shirt that hugged Blaine’s torso.

When his hand reached the hem of the shirt, Kurt slipped his fingers under the piece of clothing, just to feel the skin. His heart almost stopped. Just from that little contact of skin his heartbeat doubled, and he had to control himself not to emit a guttural groan. He took his finger from under the shirt, and lowered it further. He reached the hem of the briefs, and played with the elastic waistband, before pushing it down slightly, over the hipbones.

He couldn’t wait another moment to feel the heat with his fingers, he carefully slipped his hand through the waistband, and rested his palm on the lowest part of Blaine’s stomach, just above his member. He could feel the patch of pubic hair under his hand, and it was driving him absolutely crazy. Which overrode any hesitation, and his fingers traveled further south, and softly curled around Blaine’s still flaccid cock. But the moment skin touched bare skin, Kurt could feel Blaine’s body react. Immediately.

Which was too much for Kurt to bear. With his unoccupied hand he skillfully maneuvered himself into a position where he could gently push up Blaine’s t-shirt on his stomach, hunched over the boy’s body from behind, and one hand excruciatingly slowly working on Blaine’s cock, he started placing open mouthed kisses on the exposed stomach.

Kurt felt he couldn’t contain himself. Something inside him wanted to burst, but this wasn’t the unbearable frustration from before.

Especially, because Blaine stirred a little, started to wake, and Kurt’s mind filled with one though. Yours. He didn’t know exactly how Blaine would react, he knew he wouldn’t be mad, and all he felt was the willingness to do anything the boy asked of him, because he was under a spell. And he never wanted to break it.

Blaine was quickly wide awake, and locked eyes with the boy hovering above him. His breathing was already ragged, and the look they shared was of lust and trust. Blaine with one hand reached down, towards his own briefs, gently grabbed Kurt’s wrist that was still working under the waistband. He pulled Kurt’s hand out, and brought it to his mouth. Not breaking the eye-contact, he looked gratefully at Kurt, and kissed the back of his hand.

He then lowered Kurt’s hand to the mattress next to his head, and gently pulled at Kurt, so the boy sensed what Blaine wanted. In a matter of seconds Kurt was lying on top of the dark-haired boy, propped up on his elbows in a way that the whole of their bodies from chest down touched. Kurt’s knees were on the outer side of Blaine’s legs, and the way their crotches touched made them both groan out loudly.

Slowly, deliciously slowly Kurt started to move above Blaine, riding both of their shirt up a little, skin contacting skin there, but more prominently, a little lower, hardness meeting hardness.

Their slow rhythm was breathtakingly pleasurable, all they felt was the moving waves that were their bodies, and the pressing into each other and the friction.

The noises they made would’ve sounded obscene to anyone else, but for them were pure melody, and their eyes. Their eyes never leaving each other were the most efficient aphrodisiac either of them has ever tasted.

The last thing Kurt remembered was the feeling of looking so deep into Blaine’s eyes, he felt he would never feel anything else, but the fall into an infinite chasm.

When he woke up Friday morning, Kurt had ambivalent feelings. He didn’t want to let this dream seep through his fingers like so many previous ones he couldn’t remember anymore. This was the single most erotic thing he has ever “experienced”, and not because of what happened between the boys, but because of the uncontrollable desire he felt.

On the other hand, he knew not wanting to let go of dream has implications he couldn’t deny anymore. He was very much attracted to Blaine, and thought he was the sexiest man walking the face of the earth. He wasn’t sure if this was his real impression of the boy, or just the creation of his dreams, either way, he knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

Being physically attracted to one of your close friends is not the best way to go , he thought. But as he heard himself say that inwardly, he felt a familiar frustration creeping up his guts. Something he felt standing before that truth-demanding dream-mirror of his.