The next morning, Kurt awoke to a text from Blaine. He turned over on his side and grabbed for his phone, warm memories of the night before engulfing his mind like the sheets wrapped around his body.

(9:43) Did you get Santana's text?

(9:44) No, I don't think I have her number/she has my number/she wants my number

(9:45) hm. Oh well. She said that she came up with a Sue-approved plan, but it's awful. Better than Push It but...she wants to convince Rachel to throw a party next weekend and get everyone drunk out of their minds and somehow get all of them in trouble so their parents won't let them continue with the club or whatever. That's basically it.

(9:47) that's a long text. I don't know what to think...although I can't help imagining what a drunken Rachel would do.

(9:48) oh please, I don't *want* to imagine that. I wonder what an inebriated Kurt would do ;)

(9:48) probably something along the lines of last night...

Did I really just text that?!Kurt stared at the screen, simultaneously willing the response to arrive as soon as possible and to never receive a response, to completely erase that conversation.

(9:50)...damn it Kurt. That was probably the best night of my life.

(9:52) having to vacuum a bunch of popcorn that you accidentally spilled all over the stairs, eating semi-cold spaghetti because we didn't cook it correctly, and trying to play Cards Against Humanity even though we didn't have enough people?

(9:53) that's partially what made it great. I was thinking a little more along the lines of before all of that. What you were hinting at before...

(9:55) that...that was amazing, Kurt. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.

Kurt didn't know how to react. He could not stop replaying the events in his mind; he could almost feel Blaine's hands on him again, the ghosts of his fingertips trailing down his chest, his abs, the waistband of—

(9:57) trust me, I did.

"Kurt! Are you up?" Burt called from upstairs. Groaning, Kurt sent a quick text to Blaine, somewhat glad to end the conversation that was heading in a direction he wasn't quite sure he wanted to have over text.

(9:57) sorry, I have to go. Talk to you later?

(9:58) I have work later, but we can chat later tonight.

(9:58) work?! You must explain to me tonight then. Bye

(9:58) xoxo

As dumb as it was, he couldn't help but sigh as he glanced at the alternating two letters. The feeling of Blaine's arms wrapped around him resurfaced, conjuring the memory of the two of them wrapped up in a blanket while watching Harry find out he was a wizard and go on his magical adventures with Ron and Hermione. Even though he had showered vigorously when he got home late that night—he assumed that Burt was sleeping, since most of the lights were off—Kurt felt as if Blaine's scent still lingered on him, and that his father would find out about everything.

Oh God, how am I supposed to face him after that?!Kurt wondered, his stomach clenching as he opened the door and entered the kitchen.

The feeling immediately dissipated as he nearly stumbled back towards the door behind him, taking in the view before him. His father was reading the paper and eating a bowl of Cheerios, with someone sitting next to him.

"Carole?!" Kurt practically shouted, startling them. "Did she—did she spend the night?" Thoughts that Kurt never, ever wanted to think sprung up in his mind; he desperately tried to extinguish them, but to no avail.

"Good morning to you too, kid," Burt replied, a little irritated at Kurt's dramatic outburst, "and yes, she did, because...go on, Carole, you can tell him," he said to her warmly.

"Well youasked; I think you should do it!"

"But you saidyes, so I think—"

"You're getting married?!" Kurt asked incredulously, placing the puzzle pieces together rather quickly.They'd only been dating for a few months; how could they possiblyknowalready...

"...yes, yes we are." Carole answered after a brief silence. She gave him a small smile, her kind eyes asking for his approval.

Kurt felt that he should be angry. He wanted to be angry...mostly because he wasn't there. He found, however, that he was happy. Not happy, completely ecstatic for them.

"That...that's amazing! I'm so happy for you...Carole," he sped up to her and threw his arms around her neck, engulfing her in an enthusiastic hug, "...Dad." After he finished with Carole, he turned to his father, tears gathering in his eyes for whatever reason. He gave Burt a slower hug, trying to convey his congratulations, jubilation, and gratitude that he found someone so perfect for him and for their family.

"If you don't mind me asking-"

"—Carole and I were wondering if you'd like to plan the wedding?" Burt seemed to know exactly what Kurt was thinking.

"Yes, yes, of course!" Kurt answered with no hesitation. "Give me all of the details."

"I don't think—ah—this was what Sue had in mind when she—ohGod, Blaine—instituted these practices," Kurt panted as Blaine crawled over him, pinning his wrists to the mat underneath him. It was another Wednesday night practice, although they quickly got distracted while they stretched together.

"I'm sorry; the way you were leaned back stretching your quad—you knew that there was no way we were actually going to practice tonight," he breathed against Kurt's neck. His back arched at the hot burst of air. "Would you rather practice?" he inquired, directing his attention to his perfect jaw.

"What do you think,Captain?" Kurt retorted and ducked his head so he was kissing Blaine on the mouth, his teeth teasing at his lower lip. Blaine moaned at the mention of his title and responded with much enthusiasm, his hands tightening their grip around Kurt's wrists. Kurt was grateful for this, as he was deathly afraid of what he'd do if Blaine let go.

He was also very grateful for the fact that Blaine was being very careful about keeping the rest of their bodies at a distance-especially their lower regions.

Time came to a stand-still as they continued to press their lips together; Kurt decided to take the initiative and venture down Blaine's neck, swiftly finding the spot that made him sigh with pleasure. He continued to kiss Blaine in that same area, enjoying the way that he was making the boy above him become completely undone until—

A pair of slim hips rolled against his, roughly and aggressively and absolutelywonderfully. As amazing as it felt, Kurt knew they were going too far, especially since they were in thegymfor Christ's sake. Blaine seemed completely unaware of what he had just done, and took Kurt's break from kissing his neck to bring his lips crashing down to his again.

"Blaine, we have to stop," Kurt tried to be stern, but his voice wavered at the stupid,stupidlittle sounds Blaine was making. "Blaine—stop!" he barked as his hips collided against his again. "Let go of me, please," he implored, and Blaine sluggishly obeyed, visibly distraught at the fact that they weren't touching anymore. Kurt scooted out from under him and tried to cover himself appropriately.

"What did I do wrong?" Blaine had no shame in his blatant erection; he slid over towards Kurt. "You want—you wanna cool down?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," Kurt sighed and stood up. "I think we should leave, actually."

"...Kurt?" Blaine said hesitantly, and Kurt realized that Blaine really had no idea of what he did.

"Blaine, we were basically about to haveclothed sex," Kurt whispered, even though they were completely alone. "I mean, I'd like to, you know...in the future, of course," he stumbled over his words, but continued on, "it's just that I would rather not do it in the school gym. That's weird."

"I agree," Blaine took his hand securely in his own and led him to their bags. "That's tacky. We should do that kind of stuff in other places that are more...appropriate."

"Yeah." Kurt breathed out. "I also have a lot of homework to do." The two of them laughed at the conventional problem. "Before we go, I just need to...splash my face with some cold water,"and my dick, he added in his mind,since it just doesn't seem to be going down...

"Okay, I understand. I'll be waiting in the car." Blaine smiled coyly and strode away towards the door; Kurt started in the opposite direction.

Nearly a minute later, Kurt found himself in the bathroom, his face covered with frigid water from the sink. He splashed it on his cheeks vigorously, focusing on things that would cool him down. He still had yet to be in a closed area with Blaine for ten minutes—sometimes Kurt wanted to screamfuck you!to Blaine because of the emotional, hormonal roller coaster he had forced him onto, but at the same time, Blaine Anderson...Blaine was everything now.

It took him a few minutes to compose himself: he checked his reflection in the mirror to make sure he wasn't that flushed. Even in the dim lighting, Kurt could tell that his cheeks were still a little pink, probably from the shock of the cold water. His hair was a little mussed up, probably from when Blaine shoved him against the mat. Kurt smoothed it out to its usual part and walked away from the mirror, leaving his reflection staring back at him, holding all of Kurt's insecurities about his appearance in its arms.

"Hey, I got a text from Rachel," Kurt opened up the message on his phone a few minutes later while Blaine pulled away. "'Dads are out this weekend-party at my house Saturday at seven until eleven. Glee club only. Tell Blaine :).' God, I hate that girl."

"How does she know that we're together right now?" Blaine asked, a suspicious tone in his voice.

"I may or may not have complained about these practices to her before we were friends."

"You tell that girl everything, don't you?"

"Of course; she's my best friend! Aside from you, of course," Kurt recovered, "but we share everything with each other—I mean, who else is she supposed to go to when she's crying over Finn being with Quinn and not liking her and—oh, crap, if you tell her that I told you I'm going to-"

"Relax, Kurt, I hardly talk to Rachel anyway." Blaine laughed, and parked in Kurt's driveway.

"You don't really talk to anyone." Kurt said quietly, surprising himself. He thought that plenty of times, but never thought he'd say it aloud.

Blaine seemed to be surprised as well: he turned to face Kurt, his expression unreadable. "What does that mean?"

"I just...the only people you really talk to are Sam and me. You really don't have many...friends. That's sad, because you're the most amazing person, like,ever." Words escaped Kurt like dandelion seeds blowing in the wind as he tried to explain how wonderful Blaine was. He guessed that there weren't any real words to explain Blaine, or what he meant to Kurt. Regardless, Kurt felt a little stupid.

"I think you know why that is—I kind of have trust issues." He answered quietly, and the two of them reflected on the day in the park.

"You can get over that, Blaine. You've gotten over so many obstacles already. I know you can do it. I understand with the Cheerios, because most of the girls are insufferable bitches, but Glee...they're all nice. You've got to open up at least a little bit."

"I'm afraid I'd open up too much; especially on Saturday, since I'm bound to get drunk. I think we all are."

"I guess we're just going to have to monitor our alcohol consumption?"

"Kurt, if I were you, I wouldn't drink anything, or I'd just bring something from home. You're just a freshman, and Santana was adamant in spiking everything. I don't want you getting drunk within your first two months of high school!"

"Oh, so it's perfectly acceptable for a freshman to get a hand-job within his first two months of high school," Kurt replied sardonically, and Blaine sighed in defeat.

"Touché. But come on..." Blaine sent him a toothy grin, and Kurt knew it was time to leave unless the point of ending "practice" early would completely lose its point.

"All right, I need to go. I'll see you tomorrow?" Kurt asked as he leaned over to give Blaine a quick kiss on the cheek, as he felt it was obligatory. Blaine nodded and said goodbye, keeping his eyes on Kurt's figure until he disappeared behind the door.

Music thumped lightly from the Rachel's house, loud enough to be heard from the doorstep where Kurt and Blaine were standing. Kurt figured that he could just walk inside, since he'd been doing that since he was ten, but Blaine stopped him.

"I just want to clarify that while I'll try to keep it at a one-drink max, I'm not going to keep any promises. Remember that Santana thinks we're rooting for the club, which we have to change by tonight if we don't want to get kicked off. We also have to, you know, act casual."

"Oh God, I'm going to have to duct tape Rachel's mouth shut," Kurt griped, and Blaine gripped his shoulder in a comforting manner, leading him into the house.

"We'll do it together," he responded, and started taking Kurt's coat off for him, oddly reminding him of last Saturday's events.

"I don't think this falls under the definition of 'acting casual', Blaine," Kurt warned him, but Blaine ignored him as he took his coat to the staircase, where a few others were already hanging. He took off his own, revealing a form-fitting striped polo shirt that matched with his fire-hydrant colored pants. A bow tie encircled his collar, the same obnoxious shade of his pants.

"You're very...red," Kurt commented as they started down the stairs, the music growing louder and louder as they descended deeper and deeper into Rachel's basement, "it's almost like I'm back on the field cheering with the Cheerios."

"Shh, that's the whole point. I have to show my loyalty to them, not Glee."

"Don't you think that's a little ridiculous?" Kurt countered. Yes, he was a fashionista at heart and understood that outfits had meaning, but Blaine was taking it above and beyond.

"I think your outfit is ridiculous, personally. I thought we were supposed to act casually around each other?" He mimicked Kurt, who nudged his arm but still felt his face flare. Maybe he shouldn't have worn his tightest pair of pants.

"Part the loser sea, the gays are here!" Santana called out over the music and navigated her way towards them. "Here, have something to drink!" she shoved some beers in their hands and, before walking away to watch Brittany strip down to her undergarments in the corner, said, "Most of them got wasted after one drink. Not the wildest party—Blaine's been to plenty with me, he knows—but it's actually entertaining, watching all of them unwind. Alcohol is a beautiful substance." She turned on her foot and walked away, leaving Kurt and Blaine to their own devices. Blaine shrugged his shoulders and took a swig of his drink; Kurt took a dainty sip, his nose crinkling at the squalid taste.

"You get used to it," Blaine whispered in his ear, "let's go dance, since there doesn't seem to be much else to do."

"Who's ready for body shots?" Santana shouted over the noise an hour later, and instantly received varied responses, including a wolf-whistle from Puck and a worried cry from Brittany, "Body shots? We're going to shoot each other?!" Most, however, were against it, even in their drunken states.

"Aw, hell no, nobody is worthy enough to lay a hand onthis!" Mercedes gestured towards her body, and Rachel raised her hand for an encouraging high-five, only to be rejected: "What did I just say, Berry?"

"We do have an uneven number, and it would be difficult getting Artie up there, so..." Finn seemed rather uncomfortable with it, much to Kurt's surprise. He turned to look at Blaine, who actually had a look of interest on his face. He wasn't sure what body shots were, exactly, but he had the idea that it had to do with alcohol and exposing oneself, which he was not about to do in front of the Glee club. He was nearly done with his first (and he hoped it would be his only) drink, and could tell he was already a little off as everything began to feel warm and strange and different. He felt a desire to share these feelings, amongst other not-so-appropriate ones, with Blaine.

They continued to quarrel as to whether they should do it or not, Santana and Puck against many others who were against it and received no help from the neutral (Blaine). Eventually Santana threw her arms up in defeat.

"Fine, fine, you pussies can go back to fifth grade and play Spin the Bottle. Jesus, you losers need to liven up and party some more. Or I should've spiked the drinks with something a little stronger."

This comment was generally ignored, apart from the phrase "Spin the Bottle", since Rachel jumped at that. Apparently in her intoxicated mind, she was back in fifth grade.

"Oh, oh, okay guys, gather 'round and let's play!" She exclaimed after finding her half-empty bottle. She downed the rest and nearly slammed the bottle down touchdown-style.

"She needs to be cut off," Blaine murmured into Kurt's ear while he passed him. Blaine took a seat directly across from him, looking rather put-together aside from his growing mass of untamed curls (they'd somehow escaped the gel) and goofy smile.

"All-righty, then, I go first!" She squealed and spun the bottle. It turned around and around until-

"Ah!" She nearly screamed as it nearly landed on Finn, but it inched just a few centimeters to the right and-

"Oh, God, I amnotkissing her," Quinn said, repulsed at the idea. Rachel looked equally upset, and also a little green.

"On second thought, I'm going to make a quick trip to the ladies' room. Quinn, you go," she said, and sprinted to the bathroom across the room.

"Thank the Lord I don't have to make contact with that self-absorbed bitch," Quinn laughed along with a few others (Blaine slightly shrugged his shoulders at Kurt, who laughed weakly-it wasn't exactly a lie that Rachel was a self-absorbed bitch) and spun the bottle until it landed on Puck, a new member as of the previous Friday. She blushed a little bit; Finn didn't seem to notice.

"C'mere," Puck said lowly, and they shared a rather intimate kiss-Quinn cut it off rather quickly. "Yeah, my turn!" He exclaimed exuberantly.

A few turns of rather strange kisses later-Puck and Tina, Tina and Sam, Sam and Brittany (Kurt was surprised that daggers didn't actually manifest from Santana's eyes at that one), Kurt was feeling very at ease. He'd caught himself staring at Blaine a few times, daydreaming about a multitude of drunken fantasies...

"Kurt! Come here, Dolphin Boy, I have to kiss you!"

"The kid probably doesn't know how to kiss," Puck joked, earning some laughs from Santana.

Mercedes was not amused. "Kurt's damn cuter than you and your stupid Mohawk, so I'd shut up if I were you," she said, and Puck held up his hands.

Having neverreallykissed a girl before, Kurt simply leaned towards Brittany and pecked her on the mouth. He didn't feel the need to make a show of it, and anyway, the only person who deserved a real kiss was Blaine.

"Your turn, Kurtie!" Rachel had returned and seemed chipper as ever. Kurt rolled his eyes at the stupid nickname and spun the bottle. It was a little dizzying, watching it go and go and go in that one place for what seemed like ages, until it landed on-

"Oh, no, I am not making out with my soon-to-be-um, brother-in-law!"

"It's step-brother, Finn, and I agree." He looked at Blaine nervously, who was sitting next to Finn.

"Your parents are getting married?!" Mercedes queried with interest.

"Yeah, we'll discuss that later, whatever." Rachel cut her off, trying to direct everyone's attention back to the game. "Let's just pretend that it landed just a liiiiiiittle bit to the left and-" she leaned over and moved the bottle- "aha! You have to kissBlaiiinnee," she stuck her tongue out at Kurt playfully, but he honestly didn't care. He was already a little hard just from simply staring at Blaine's beautiful profile, watching him as he very nearly got picked to kiss Sam-he probably would have melted with envy if it happened. He'd been itching to make physical contact with Blaine all night, and this was his opportunity, so he'd use it as best as he could.

Kurt rapidly crawled over on all fours and kissed Blaine with as much force as he could muster,feeling thatthatwasn't even enough. He felt the urge to mark Blaine as his and hisonly; no one else was allowed to kiss Blaine in this game.

Blaine automatically moaned underneath him and kissed him back, his hands clutching at Kurt's wiry frame. The alcohol hazed their senses; they seemed to forget that the Glee club was watching them. They kissed passionately for a few more seconds, when they were suddenly brought back down from the clouds by the clearing of a throat.

"Well, well, well, this is an interesting turn of events! Blaine has a boyfriend, and he's got his hands all over Porcelain's ass over here...should I call your 'boyfriend' up, Blaine?" Santana asked, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"Nope, 'cause he's right here," Blaine answered. His speech was slightly slurred, but he sounded completely happy. He hooked his arm around Kurt's waist and grabbed his drink with his free hand. "This is boring now; let's play Truth or Dare!"

"No, Never Have I Ever, and if you've done it you have to drink," Santana said, and everyone nodded in agreement. "I'll start. Never have I ever been Lady Hummel's boyfriend."

"Oops, you got me!" Blaine laughed and downed some more of his beer, his hand tracing circles on Kurt's back. Kurt wanted to be angry at Blaine, but he just couldn't, since he was the one who pretty much initiated the whole reveal.

"Wait, hold up, hold up," Mercedes said, "how long has this been going on for?"

"Just two weeks, but don't tell anyone, please!" Kurt implored. "There's a reason why we didn't tell you. Not because we don't like you, because-"

"Whatever, we'll have our liar gays spill later. Miss Gold Star, go," Santana said, trying to divert all of the attention from Kurt and Blaine.

"Ahahaha, never have I ever...touched the nick—dick of anyone else in this room! Ohmygod, I can't talk, I'm sorry," Rachel let out another peal of laughter. Brittany immediately lifted her bottle to her lips, and Puck asked, "Does it count if it was by accident in the locker room, like, through clothes or whatever?" Finn: "Dude, no, I think that one time you kicked me in the balls counts."

"Damn, Berry, that was a good one—Christ!" Santana said as she watched Blaine mirror her. "After only two weeks?! Wanky! What'd you two do?"

"I thought we were going to spill later." Kurt said quickly. He wasn't sure if he should drink, since he'd felt Blaine pressing against him. Figuring that it didn't count, Kurt looked down at the floor, actually feeling kind of bad for Blaine, since he hadn't exactly reciprocated. He needed to do something about that.

"Hey, can we talk," he murmured to Blaine, grabbing his hand. He nodded and made a surprised sound as Kurt pulled him up, dragging him towards the bathroom across the room. "Excuse us," Kurt said hurriedly to the few heads that turned to watch us.

"So, you want to figure out how—oh my Go-" Kurt cut him off as he shoved him against the closed door, placing his hungry lips on Blaine's parted ones. He tangled his fingers in Blaine's curls and gripped them tightly as he kissed Blaine, eliciting a raunchy moan from the other party. "I wouldn't define this as talking, but it works; oh fuck,Kurt," he practically whined as Kurt started undoing his bowtie and immediately attacked his neck once he got it off. His hands returned to Blaine's wild curls after he also unbuttoned his polo, his mouth exploring every inch of visible skin he could find.

"How drunkareyou?!" Blaine gasped as Kurt shoved his knee in between his spread legs, his thigh brushing against Blaine's growing crotch. "Kurt, I don't want to do anything while we're like this-"

"Oh, shut up, I just want to make this about you," Kurt groaned against Blaine's hot, sweaty skin, "I've never eventouchedyou, for God's sake, and that'ssounfair," he slurred, and applied more pressure to Blaine's crotch, reveling in the breathy gasps that followed. "I'm not even that drunk, you looking beautiful and gorgeous and I don't know is just intoxicating, and completely unfair."

"You know what I think is unfair? The fact that you're about to make me come in my pants," Blaine whimpered as Kurt roughly removed his polo, his nipples hardening at the cold air rushing through the overhead vent. Gentle fingertips brushed over them, and Blaine could not take it anymore: he undid his belt and jeans, and Kurt's hand immediately trailed down his bare chest, down his abdomen, down his happy trail, down to the waistband of his boxers—

"You two have been in there long enough, a guy's gotta go when he's gotta go," a familiar voice said, and the door opened, the two of them jumping back. "Oh,shit, I-I'm sorry!" Finn shouted in shock as he beheld Kurt and Blaine, equally startled and mortified. Blaine quickly stuffed himself back in his pants, muttering a slew of curses, but Kurt seemed to be just as frozen as Finn was. The door was wide open; everyone could see inside. And that they were.

"Wanky," Santana commented again, and Kurt slammed the door in Finn's face.

"So what do you want to do about that?" Blaine asked a few minutes later, still very red in the face. He bent down to put his shirt back on, but a hand stopped him.

"No—I'm not done with you. I'm done with this party, but not with you. I'm never done with you." Kurt stated. Blaine stared at Kurt, how he was still breathing hard, how a little bead of sweat was making its way down his forehead, how Kurt wasstill as hard as he was.

"So what do you want to do aboutthat?" he queried again, only to be silenced by a chaste kiss.

"Where do you want to go?" Kurt asked coyly as he picked up the crumpled polo, sensually placing it in Blaine's hands.

"Anywhere. I just want this to get taken care of—with proper privacy. This could have been a disaster."

"It'll be a disaster if I don't have you come all over my hand within the next ten minutes," Kurt hissed in his ear, and Blaine put on his shirt as quickly as his trembling hands would allow.

Kurt. Kurt is talking dirty to me. Kurt. Dirty talk. To me. Kurt KurtKurt.

They scrambled out of the bathroom, saying a quick "goodbye, we must go, so sorry, great party Rachel, see you all on Monday," although they weren't sorry, and they weren't even thinking about Monday, they were only focused on what lay ahead in the now.

Everything became a colorful blur: they almost forgot their coats as they rushed to the car. Before he knew what was happening, he'd somehow opened his car and was on his back in the backseat; Kurt was crawling over him with a coquettish smile playing on his lips, his hands fluttering to the hem of his shirt.

"Please, Kurt, just search within your consciousness for a second, past the alcohol, just...make sure that you want to do this," Blaine asked once his shirt was off, once again exposed to Kurt, "I want to make sure that this doesn't go too far."

"All I said was that I wanted you to come in myhand, not in my mouth, or...well, you seemed okay with that on Wednesday," he blushed, realizing just how loose-lipped the alcohol made him. They locked eyes for a few seconds, their blown pupils becoming black holes, siphoning the heavy atmosphere surrounding them.

"Just...fuck, Kurt, keep going," Blaine admonished, trying to avoid the intensity of Kurt's gaze. He was almost thankful that Kurt dropped his gaze to his crotch, repeating his actions from earlier in Rachel's bathroom.Jesus, I was going to let him jerk me off in Rachel Berry's bathroom. I was going to let them hear me...hearus...do something that depraved basically in the same room as the Glee club, with just a little door keeping us from sight—

His train of thought immediately crashed into a bewildering wave of arousal as Kurt's gentle fingers traced his bare length (When did that happen? When were my pants and underwear all the way down at my ankles?); Blaine was sure the club could hear their vulgar, needy breaths from the basement.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Blaine babbled disjointedly as the fingertips continued to brush over him with a controlled placidity. Kurt continued to tease him while mouthing at the base of his throat; Blaine extended his neck and stole a glance at the stars scattered across the black sky, curious little dots of light that were probably dead in the present but continued to leave their imprint in the universe. Lyrics to a distant song ignited in Blaine's mind as he stared up at the glorious beacons:

"All alone in the corner of the night sky / Spiral bones of a supernova starlight / Fell in love with another burning bright / She dreamed of a way to ignite..."

"Look at me, Blaine," Kurt breathed shakily, lifted his head from Blaine's throat. His Adam's apple bobbed at the loss of weight as he directed his attention back to Kurt, the stars still blazing in his eyes. Kurt's hand finally constricted around Blaine, gently dragging up and down against his sensitive skin. That wasn't enough to satisfy Blaine's need: he immediately responded, all of his thoughts floating to the sky, dissipating into the dark before they could reach the cosmos.

"She said, / 'Tonight / Come on, come on / Collide / Break me to pieces, I / I think you're just like heaven...'"

Words continued to escape him, Blaine, except for a "yes, just like that," as Kurt tightened his grip. This was so much better than being confined in his room with just some tissues, lube (only used when he was feeling extremely adventurous), and his memory of Kurt, an intangible whisper of his voice, his appearance, his scent, and most recently, his heavenly taste, a ghost that could hardly compare to the tangible. Soon enough his hips bucked up to meet the closed fist, a conflagration beginning to spread from the touch of Kurt's hand throughout Blaine's veins. It sparked from their locked gazes, their eyes only flickering away to watch their bodies touch.

"'Why / Come on, come on / Collide / Let's see what a fire feels like / I bet it's just like heaven...'"

He could feel that familiar twisting feeling, the fire plaguing his body pooling into his core. Blaine grabbed Kurt's face and brought it down to meet his in a sloppy kiss, just needing to feel something somewhere other than the painful throbbing of his cock. Kurt moaned against his lips, his tongue sneaking through to fuck into his mouth in a similar motion to what was going down below them, nearly sending Blaine over the edge.

"'Just like heaven,'" Blaine groaned as Kurt quickened his pace; Blaine was hardly able to keep up. He could feel himself falling apart, falling into space, colliding with the stars...

"Fuck, Blaine, just like I asked you before; come on my hand, please," Kurt begged, his voice husky and low andso damn hot, and Blaine finally let go, keening as he spilled onto Kurt and his stomach. He could see and feel the stars cutting into his skin, his mind, his eyes—the stars were Kurt. Everything was Kurt: it was the word that fell from his lips as he came.

As the lights died away, he fell back on the car seat, completely exhausted. "That was definitely the best orgasm I've ever had, oh,Kurt," he breathed, not sure of what to say. He blinked a few times, just to make sure that Kurt was really there in front of him. Kurt confirmed his existence by kissing him slowly, carefully, trying not to break him. "I'm in no state to drive, shit," he observed nonchalantly: Blaine knew that was quite a problem, but he didn't really care.

"I think I can. The alcohol's definitely wearing off, since I didn't drink as much as you," he said smugly, knowing that Blaine went over his one-drink limit, "and my house is just a few minutes away. We could stop there until you're all settled and then you can go home," Kurt's voice trailed off a little bit at the end, disheartened at the thought of Blaine leaving his side.

"Okay," Blaine's voice involuntarily cracked while Kurt traced the lines of his muscles in his arm. "The, um, the tissues are in the-" Unable to finish, Blaine flicked his head in their general direction, and Kurt nodded. He winced as he got up from being cramped in the same position for the longest time. Blaine wanted to lie there for ages, reveling in the pleasure that Kurt just gave him, but knew it was time to get up and leave. The night had to end at some point.

"Dad?" Kurt called cautiously as he entered the house a few minutes later with Blaine right behind him. They'd arrived safely: Kurt, thankfully, was a decent driver. "Carole?" No answer. "I guess they're out. So...if you don't mind, I'm going to go take a shower—you can take one after me if you'd like," he said shyly, and Blaine nodded, "so I guess you can make yourself comfortable, watch some TV, I don't know." He gestured towards the couch. "I won't be long."

"Okay." Blaine did as Kurt instructed and sat on the couch and turned the television on, but did not watch it: his eyes followed Kurt, who retreated downstairs, and then come back upstairs a few minutes later with some clothes.So that's where his bedroom is, Blaine thought as he realized that he'd never been to Kurt's house before. It was a strange realization, since the house had such a familiar feeling to it.

The shower turned on somewhere in the house, and Blaine shifted slightly, turning the volume of the television a little lower.Kurt is naked somewhere in this house, he thought, and found that he was laughing. He'd already seen Kurt naked before—he was being stupid.

Blaine got up, unable to be still. He wandered around the room and looked at many pictures of family members and—

The face of a young boy, maybe five or six years old, was staring up at the camera, his lips curled into a large smile, his piercing blue eyes scrunched up andhappy. The freckles splayed across his nose were slightly blurred, since he was so close to the camera. A gentle, feminine hand was in the frame, fixing the part of his hair. A certain curiosity urged Blaine to open the frame and look at the back of the picture, since it usually held information about the picture. He did as his instinct told him, and found that he was right: a date was scribbled on the back—May, about ten years ago—along with "Taken by Elizabeth." Blaine stared at the script for a while longer, and then put the frame back together and placed it back where he found it.

There were many other pictures of Kurt: Kurt as a baby, Kurt having tea with his father (Blaine laughed at that one; just the thought of Mr. Hummel at a tea party was ridiculous), Kurt at dance class in a pink leotard (Blaine was definitely going to tease him about that), Kurt with Rachel, singing together in what Blaine assumed to be Kurt's room, Kurt graduating fifth grade, Kurt giving a big thumbs-up while in the audience of a playhouse, Kurt working on a car with Burt...

"Shower's open—oh, why are you looking atthat?!" Kurt sprinted over to Blaine, who was observing a picture of Kurt singing on stage, wearing a ragged costume. "That was last year; I was inOliver!—that was an awful experience." He took the frame out of Blaine's hands and put it on the table nearby. "Here, I've got a towel and some clothes in case you want to change. Follow me," he said, and Blaine trailed after him. The bathroom was on the other side of the house: Blaine took the opportunity to peruse as much as he could of Kurt's abode. It was then that he realized why the house seemed so familiar—it felt like a proper home.

"All right, I'll be in the kitchen fixing something to drink. Tea or coffee?" Kurt queried after Blaine got into the bathroom, placing the towel and clothes on the counter.

"Tea," Blaine said, "and thanks...for everything." He added. The door closed behind him, and he immediately began to undress, thankful that he could finally get properly cleaned. Once he was completely stripped down, he got to the shower and realized he had no idea how to even turn it on. After tinkering with it for a few minutes, he gave up and wrapped the towel around his waist, feeling kind of silly since Kurt had basically just seen him nude.

"Kurt?" He called out tentatively, and heard some footsteps in reply.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, and Blaine opened the door, one hand on the towel. Kurt's eyes widened slightly at the sight.

"I—I can't figure out the shower," he said stupidly, and Kurt laughed, still looking Blaine up and down.

"Oh, sorry, I should've showed you," Kurt said nervously, and walked in, stepping over the pile of Blaine's clothes on the floor. Blaine hovered over him as he turned it on. "This is how you change the temperature; this is how you turn it off. Got it?" He turned to face Blaine, who kissed him. "What was that for?" Kurt asked, trying to sound irritated but Blaine could tell that he liked it. Blaine himself didn't know why he responded that way.

"Just another way of saying 'thank you', I guess," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, then..." Kurt backed out of the room and waved his fingers. Blaine waved back—with the hand that was keeping his towel up. It fell to the floor, and Kurt stared for a millisecond before closing the door again.

It wasn't until Blaine poured some liquid soap—soap that smelled so much like Kurt—that he had another realization. He felt like he was at home, with Kurt. Like it wastheirhome. He smiled at the wall, a frivolous feeling ballooning in his stomach.

"So this is your room," Blaine said as they sat on Kurt's bed ten minutes later. They'd finished their tea after Blaine had his shower, and Kurt had suggested that they go downstairs.

"Yep. What do you think?" Kurt asked, straightening out the sheet beside him.

"It's very...you. It looks like you." He inhaled. "It smells like you."

"...thanks?" They laughed, and then lapsed into silence.

"I'll turn on some music, is that okay?" Kurt said, not knowing what else to do. He didn't even know what they were waiting for anymore.

"Mhmmm," Blaine nodded, lying back on his bed. Kurt strode across the room and put on some classical music CD he'd found for a few bucks at a garage sale. The violin quietly sang while he turned around and found Blaine dozing off on his bed, his head resting on one of Kurt's pillows.Oh, God,Kurt gasped internally.What am I going to do?

"Blaine, Blaine, wake up," he shook him as he slid onto the bed. Blaine groaned in response. "I guess...you wanna spend the night?" It was a good thing that Blaine changed into the worn Buckeyes shirt and long sweatpants he'd supplied him with.

"Yeah," Blaine murmured. Kurt could feel himself drifting off as well—exhaustion crept over him like a lion finally catching its prey.

"All right, then," he said shakily, "I'm—I'm going to lift the sheets so you can get in," there were sleeping bags upstairs, but he didn't want to get one. He couldn't leave Blaine on the floor...or himself.

Blaine happily obliged, and Kurt got up to turn off the music and the lights. All of his cares slipped away into thin air as he retreated back to his bed.

"Are you too hot? Cold? Do you-"

"Shhh," Blaine said, pressing a finger to Kurt's lips. "I wanna sleep."

"Me too," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips. His eyelids were drooping; he could feel himself falling into darkness... "'Night, Blaine."

"Good night, Kurt," Blaine said, becoming more and more aware of their situation. He was in a bed. With Kurt. Sleeping. With Kurt. Well, not really, but still.

He couldn't hold in his feelings anymore. Not when they've come this far, when they've shared things he never thought he'd ever be able to share.

"Kurt, I—I love..." he was interrupted by a sigh: Kurt had fallen asleep.

"Good night," he repeated, and let his eyelids close, letting his final picture of a peaceful Kurt sink into his mind as it drifted into nothingness.

The pounding on the stairs, the intense light shining through his closed eyes, the loud shout penetrating through his sleep:

"Care to explain, Kurt?"