However, when Burt had overheard them trying to determine which of the next three days would be good for them to make the trip to Westerville, he’d changed their plans in one sentence. He wanted to meet Blaine’s parents too: saying that it would be perfect for both sets of families to meet up while the boys were still in Ohio.

So Blaine sat with his knee bouncing up and down as he held the phone up to his ear, listening to the ringing tone as he waited for his mother or father to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hi Mum,” Blaine said, genuine brightness in his voice. His relationship with his parents was strained because of the ten letters that had scarred his hand since he was fourteen but they were still his parents. “It’s me.”

“Oh Blaine, it’s so lovely to hear from you.” He heard his mother put something down on what he knew was the black counter tops in their kitchen. “Are you studying for your finals now?”

Blaine grimaced. He’d been purposely not thinking about his studies or the final exams that were coming up far more quickly than he admitted. “Just starting to mum,” he settled for saying. It was the truth, in some ways. “But I’m in Ohio right now.”

“Ohio? Why? Who are you staying with?”

Taking a deep breath, Blaine took the plunge. “My soul mate’s family.” His mother didn’t say anything and Blaine only knew that she’d heard by the small, sharp inhale he heard. “I met him, Mum, in New York. Just a few weeks ago. His family is from here too and he invited me to come home with him when he came for a visit.”

“That’s wonderful darling.” Blaine couldn’t fathom the emotion he heard in his mother’s voice. She had always held out for a girl’s name developing on his hand, like his dad, but she had never openly disapproved of his being gay. Just wanted him to keep it quiet. So now that he’d actually met Kurt and connected with him; was she upset that there was no way of Blaine finding a girl to settle down with (not that there was any chance for that scenario even if Blaine hadn’t met Kurt.)

“I’m so happy to hear that for you. I’ll tell your father if you like: he’s at work right now.”

“Actually,” Blaine said, holding the phone closer to his ear, “Kurt’s father wanted to invite you to dinner. Kurt’s from Lima and there’s a restaurant here that we can all go to. So you can meet Kurt and he and his family can meet you and Dad. If you’d like.”

Blaine heard nothing through the phone for a few seconds. He waited impatiently; fiddling with the grey sweater he was wearing and pushing the gravel around in circles with one foot.

“Of course we’ll come.” She eventually said. She didn’t sound exasperated, which was always a good sign. “When would you like to go out?”

“Kurt and I fly back to New York on Tuesday evening, so is Monday ok?”

“Of course darling. Your father and I will see you then.”

They hung up the phone at the same time. Blaine cradled the cell in his hands for a moment, staring at it with unblinking eyes. He had absolutely no idea how the evening would go. When he had had his crush on Jeremiah and his brief but memorable relationship with Sebastian, he had been boarding at Dalton. He’d never introduced his parents to any boyfriends.

The only time they had had to deal first hand with a date who was a boy was the Sadie Hawkins dance: and the aftermath had outweighed any parental reactions to Blaine dating another boy.

Confronted with Kurt and with Burt and Carole along for the evening, Blaine couldn’t picture what would happen. He didn’t like that. Going into the evening completely blind wasn’t something he was looking forward to. It was clear that Burt accepted all aspects of Kurt, as did Carole, including Kurt’s very male soul mate. If Blaine’s mum and dad didn’t: it would be painfully obvious.

An entire evening sat like that was not one to look forward too.

One Christmas before Blaine had left for New York, the entire Anderson clan had had Christmas dinner at Blaine’s house. The year had been particularly memorable because one of Blaine’s cousins, only two years older than him, had gotten pregnant by her boyfriend (not her soul mate) and had decided to keep the baby. It was a scandal of moderate proportions but Blaine could never forget the prolonged silences and the furtive glances at his aunt and uncle as they sat staring at the plates of turkey and stuffing. Diana hadn’t even been there for the meal but the second-hand embarrassment had made Blaine disappear to his room rather than sit around for the carol singing his grandfather always liked to start after the Christmas pudding.

If Monday’s dinner would be like that, filled with silences Blaine would fill by blurting out random facts and dates of events in history and punctuated by awkward exchanged glances, it would be unbearable to endure. For a brief moment, Blaine wished Cooper would be there too: at least with his brother around, the focus could always be drawn back to him.

--

“You should wear this.”

Kurt threw the white V-necked sweater onto the bed where Blaine was sitting dressed only his smart pants and socks. Kurt had taken full responsibility for what Blaine would wear that evening when he had come back inside after inviting his parents to dinner and had confessed his nerves.

“At least you can look fabulous.” Kurt had said when Blaine had tried to protest. Kurt did know what he was talking about with clothes (he was a fashion designer after all) and Blaine hadn’t minded taking Kurt’s direction with what to wear for the fashion show they’d gone to, or after nights were Blaine had stayed at Kurt’s apartment with no overnight bag.

“Just this?” Blaine picked up his sweater that he’d thrown into his bag as an extra item that he hadn’t even been sure he’d need.

“Don’t be silly.” Kurt stood up and crossed the room in two strides. “You need to wear a bow tie tonight so put on one of the white shirts you brought. I’ve got a red bow tie that will go perfectly with those red shoes you have. Thank g-d you brought them with.”

Kurt bustled out of the room and Blaine took the opportunity to slip into a white shirt that he hadn’t worn while they’d been here. Even from nothing, Kurt had managed to make an outfit that would look great. It was an impressive talent, although not surprising from someone who had been an aspiring designer while he’d been a teenager. Blaine reckoned that Kurt would be able to rustle up an outfit from scraps of clothes that would be rejected from thrift stores and it would grace the runways from New York to Milan.

“Here.” Kurt returned holding an open bowtie in his hands. Blaine turned and lifted his chin to bare the buttoned but raised collar. Kurt looped the red fabric round Blaine’s neck and tied the tie with deft fingers, folding the collar down once he was finished. Blaine then pulled the sweater over the shirt and Kurt immediately dove back in to fix both bowtie and collar.

“Perfect.” He declared after looking Blaine over. “With a jacket.”

They had left Blaine’s room, Blaine carrying a jacket borrowed from Kurt’s closet, when Carole intercepted them. She was wearing a light cream dress to her knees, one red shoe and one black shoe.

“Kurt, which shoe?” She asked and pointed unnecessarily to the shoes. Immediately Kurt pointed to the red ones. Carole thanked him and walked around the boys towards the master bedroom in the mismatched shoes.

“And gold jewellery.” Kurt called out behind her. “Not silver."

It took another ten minutes before the two Hummels, one Hudson and one Anderson poured into Kurt’s Navigator and backed out of the drive. Finn had conveniently had plans that night but had confessed to Blaine when he’d been round watching a baseball game that if Cooper had been going, he would have come too but he’d rather avoid a night where parents would be quizzing each other to potential disaster.

Blaine gnawed at his bottom lip as Kurt sped down the roads of Lima, suburban houses flashing past the car becoming blurs to Blaine’s eyes. He had started as simply chewing at the corner of his lip but as they drew ever closer to the restaurant, the chewing moved to a larger surface area and increased in ferocity. At one point, Kurt reached over, wound his hand between Blaine’s fingers and where they’d been gripping his thigh tightly and rubbed the back of his hand to try and calm him down. It worked for a few minutes.

Apparently the place to go in Lima was Breadstix but according to Kurt it was an Italian restaurant if Italians didn’t know how to cook. Kurt had even go so far to say that he could cook better when he’d been eight years old than some of the cooking in Breadstix. Instead they were going to a restaurant further into the centre of Lima, Amoretto’s, which was less frequented and a higher quality of food.

Blaine spotted his parents’ BMW as soon as Kurt pulled into a parking spot just behind the restaurant. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath, feeling the engine turn off beneath him. Burt and Carole got out of the car first, still talking about something Carole had witnessed today in the hospital, but Blaine could feel Kurt next to him and knew that he was waiting for Blaine to make the first move to step out of the car.

After a few more seconds, Blaine opened his eyes and looked at Kurt.

“It’ll be ok Blaine.” He said, keeping his voice low so that Burt and Carole, who were standing just outside the car and didn’t know about Blaine’s fears for the evening, “you’ll see.”

The walk from the car to the restaurant seemed to take years, the distance to the front door growing with each step. Blaine was holding onto Kurt’s hand, not even thinking that they were in public and probably should still be walking a little way apart. This restaurant wasn’t equipped with a room for celebrities to hide from prying eyes or eager ears.

There was soft music playing in the air and the loud chatter of people sitting at the tables. Booths were set up around the walls of the room and there were tables in the middle for extra patrons to sit and eat at. Blaine looked around, ignoring Kurt telling the ma�tre d’ that they were looking for the rest of their party, and spotted his mum and dad in one of the booths on the far side of the room.

Blaine nodded in their direction and led the way across the restaurant. As he passed a table occupied by a family, both daughters twisted bodily in their chairs to stare wide-eyed at him and especially at Kurt. Neither boy took any notice. Blaine’s grip on Kurt’s hand tightened as they broke free of the middle tables and walked directly towards the table.

Blaine’s mother, Lea Anderson, spotted them first. She was sitting away from the edge of the circular booth and had to tap Blaine’s father on the shoulder to get him to move off the seat and let her free. James Anderson looked startled at his wife’s prodding but gave a wide smile when he looked over and saw his younger son almost upon them.

“Blaine, sweetheart,” Lea held out her arms and wrapped Blaine in a tight but brief hug. She was small, only reaching Blaine’s shoulder, with the same curly black hair and tanned skin as her son. Blaine’s eyes were inherited from his father.

“Hi Mum.” He replied as he returned her hug. Once she had let him go, he briefly hugged his father and then turned back to where Kurt was standing. He, and Burt and Carole, were stood a polite distance from the three Andersons, giving them time and space to greet each other.

Holding out his hand for Kurt to take once more, Blaine turned to look at his parents. “Mum, Dad,” he said, pride laced through his voice, “this is Kurt. My soul mate.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mr and Mrs Anderson.” Kurt said. His voice seemed unnaturally forced, in a slightly lower register than normal and too monotonous. He was nervous.

“The pleasure is ours, Kurt.” Lea replied. She sent a momentary look to her husband and then stepped forward to give Kurt a brief hug in greeting. Then James held out a hand for Kurt to shake, smiling widely and shaking his son’s soul mate’s hand with enthusiasm.

It was just that small look his mother had sent his father that had Blaine’s nerves on edge.

“I’m Burt Hummel, Kurt’s father.” Burt’s voice cut through the second of awkward silence that had crept up out of nowhere after the initial introductions, “And my wife, Carole.”

The four parents shook hands, acknowledged each other’s names and identities then slid into the booth. Kurt and Blaine sat in the middle, fenced in by the table in front of them, Carole and Burt to the right and Lea and James to the left. Nerves had returned in full for Blaine: not that they’d left. He still wasn’t sure where he stood with his parents. They had been polite and seemed genuinely happy to meet Kurt. Which was all a good start but it was more likely than not too good to be true.

Orders were collected by the waitress, who stared unabashed at Kurt for a good few minutes before remembering the five other people at the table. Small talk was passed around while the waitress stumbled through taking their order, having to come back a second time to double check that Carole really had ordered the lamb and mushroom risotto.

“So Kurt,” Lea said after the moment’s silence of no one being sure how to start a conversation, “Tell me more about you. Blaine’s been very secretive about you.”

Kurt nudged Blaine with his elbow, a wry smile on his face. Blaine could only shrug in reply: he hadn’t told his parents much about Kurt because he wouldn’t know if they really wanted to know. He rationalised that way of thinking by adding that they were keeping it a secret for everyone.

Not that Blaine thought it would stay a secret for much longer.

“Well, I’m 22, I live in New York like Blaine but I’m originally from here.” Kurt flicked his eyes to where Burt and Carole were sitting and then turned back to Lea and James. “I’m a fashion designer and-”

“A fashion designer? That’s so interesting. I’ve never met anyone who designs clothes before.” Lea’s voice was bright and Blaine knew his mother well enough that he recognised her excitement at that. It was his father’s silence that had Blaine nervously gnawing at his bottom lip again.

“It’s a lot of fun. I’ve been designing clothes for most of my teenage years.” Kurt took a sip of the water in front of him. “I was a very fashion-conscious kid.”

“So are you any good?”

Now Blaine stared wide eyed at his mother and the silence around the table lasted far too long. Carole rested her hand on Burt’s forearm and out of the corner of his eye, Blaine saw the incredulous look the Hummel-Hudsons shared. James bit his lip to hide a smile and then covered his mouth with his hand when that didn’t help. To her credit, Lea blushed and stuttered: “I didn’t mean that – I just, well, I was wondering-”

“It’s ok Mrs Anderson.” Kurt held out his hand to take hers. She’d actually wrung her hands before Kurt had spoken but latched onto him as soon as she could. “I understood. And yes I am: I’ve got two stores open in New York and I sell my clothes online as well.”

Lea nodded at the table but she still held Kurt’s hand in a vice grip. Blaine had dropped his head into his hands. This evening was really not turning out well. They hadn’t even got their starters yet and his mother had stuck her foot in her mouth royally, his father hadn’t said two words and Burt looked like he would have throttled someone at the suggestion that his son wasn’t any good at what he did.

A hand gripped Blaine’s thigh in a tight grip but the thumb that was gently rubbing against the side of his leg was soothing. Blaine lifted his head and saw that Kurt had finally extracted his hand from Lea’s and while his face was looking forward, he was watching Blaine out of the corner of his eyes. G-d did Blaine love his soul mate at that moment: just letting him know he was there and happy to end the awkwardness, at least for the time being.

“So Mr Hummel-” James said. The silence had lasted too long for comfort but the astonishment that flowed through Blaine at hearing his father speak could have knocked him to the ground.

“Burt, please.” Burt immediately dismissed the formality and while James’ eyebrow did twitch up for a millisecond, he nodded.

“Then do call me James.” Burt nodded too. “If your son’s a designer, does that mean you are also in the business.”

Burt laughed at the notion and shook his head. Both Kurt and Carole smiled at that as well. “No, I own a garage. Here in Lima. Kurt’s the adventurous one, going off to New York and starting his business there. I couldn’t be more proud of him for that.”

Conversation flowed a little easier from then but Blaine wasn’t comfortable the entire evening. When the waitress had come round for their order, he’d chosen the first thing on the menu that caught his eye but when the entr�e was served, he stared at the lasagne with little appetite. Kurt was failing to eat his chicken parmesan with one hand as the other was stuck to Blaine’s leg to keep him grounded and from crying into his plate with nerves.

The one thing that Blaine could take from tonight is that once conversation turned away from jobs (which took too long but at least it had broken the ice), it was more relaxed. At least between Burt, Carole and James. Lea kept silent after her faux pas and Kurt contributed to the conversations sporadically. Blaine barely said two words that weren’t to Kurt. He was surprised but very glad that his father was talking. He had been so worried that James would be so disapproving that he would sit at the table like a living statue and barely speak to anyone. The thought that his father might be treating the evening like he was meeting Blaine’s girlfriend’s parents for the first time as opposed to the real situation kept running through Blaine’s mind: but when Kurt joined in the conversation about cars, hitting Blaine playfully on the shoulder at his annoyance that he hadn’t been told about the Chevy they’d rebuilt, James didn’t looked shocked that Kurt was knowledgeable about cars. He didn’t appear to pander to the stereotype that because Kurt produced his own fashion line, he wouldn’t know anything about cars, a ‘manly’ hobby.

It didn’t cross Blaine’s mind that his father had no problem with who Kurt was or the fact that he was Blaine’s soul mate.

Conversation eventually exhausted itself after a forced discussion about sports that only Burt and Blaine were knowledgeable about and had, in fact, discussed this topic at length the previous night when they’d had dinner together.

“Breath, honey,” Kurt whispered in Blaine’s ear while James and Burt fought over who would pay the check. “It wasn’t that bad. And it’s nearly over anyway.”

He pressed a small kiss right next to Blaine’s ear and Blaine couldn’t hide the small smile that grew on his face. Finally James relented to paying for half of the check and all six stood up to begin edging their way out of the booth.

“It was lovely to meet you.” Lea said to Kurt, keeping her voice warm and friendly. She held out her arms and Kurt accepted the hug with a brief laugh. James had shaken hands with Burt and Carole and was waiting for Lea to let her son’s soul mate go free.

“And you, Lea.” Kurt replied, having been reliably informed to call Blaine’s parents by their first names during the meal. When Lea eventually let him go, he held out a hand to James which was taken but he was swept up into a small hug that shocked Blaine once again. He’d never seen a side of his father like this before.

“Um, excuse me? Mr Hummel? Kurt?”

A very quiet female voice interrupted the farewells they were giving by their table. All six adults turned to look at the young girl, standing with her older sister who was staring at Kurt with eyes wide and mouth tightly closed. They were clutching Sharpie pens, one notebook and one magazine tightly to their chests.

Kurt let go of James’ hand and turned to look at the girls. “Yes?”

The younger girl visibly relaxed at Kurt’s acknowledgement and said: “Can we have your autograph?” She moved her pen and notebook away from her chest only by a fraction.

“Of course.” Kurt bent down until he was crouched on the floor. He wasn’t kneeling on the ground in these jeans. He held out his hands for the pen and paper but it took a moment for the girl to release them. “What’s your name?”

“Olivia.”

With a snap of the pen lid, Kurt pulled it off and started writing away on the notebook page. He spoke out loud to her as he wrote, dictating what he was writing. “Dear Olivia, may you always have exquisite taste in anything you do.” He finished the autograph with a flourished signature and handed it back to Olivia.

Then he turned to her still silent sister. “Would you like one too?” She nodded so Kurt held out his hands for the pen and magazine. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Ha-Hannah.” She replied in a voice that was so quiet Blaine barely heard it and she was trembling like a frightened rabbit.

The magazine was opened to a page where there was a picture of Kurt and Blaine coming out of the airport in Columbus. Kurt smiled and signed a message similar to Olivia’s on Hannah’s magazine.

Blaine felt a tug on his sleeve and saw his mother leaning very close to his ear to whisper: “He doesn’t just have a few stores and a website to sell clothes, does he.”

She’d understood what was happening in a heartbeat. A quick glance at his father showed that James also clocked that Kurt wasn’t just a business man in the fashion industry. Blaine turned back to his mother and shook his head. She covered her mouth again, no doubt remembering her slip-up earlier that suggested Kurt wasn’t any good at designing. No one would be a famous designer unless they were very good at what they did.

Once she’d received her magazine from Kurt, complete with message about showing her colours without worry, Hannah looked down at it with a huge grin. Then held out her magazine and Sharpie pen to Blaine.

Blaine could only stare with very wide eyes at the girl, who couldn’t be older than thirteen and apparently wanted his autograph. Kurt stood up and was watching the silent interaction with a look on his face that told Blaine he was incredibly amused and not about to help out whatsoever.

“You want my autograph?” Blaine asked. Hannah nodded and this time Olivia was hiding behind her sister but gazing up at Blaine as much in awe of him as she’d been of Kurt.

“Um,” Blaine risked a look at Kurt. Who simply raised a single well-plucked eyebrow and then looked down at the magazine again. “Ok.”

He didn’t write a message but hastily scrawled his name over the glossy picture of himself in the magazine. Once he finished, Hannah tore the pen and magazine out of his hands and closed it gently before clutching it to her chest with such reverence she could have been a priest holding a bible. And, in fairness, for a young teenager who was invested in fashion and fame, the magazine was probably her bible. And the most precious thing now that it contained the autograph of her hero and his soul mate.

“Thank you Mr Hummel, Kurt, sir.” Olivia said, faltering a moment as she spoke. The sisters turned on their heels and practically fled back to their parents’ table.

“Shall we?” Burt gestured to the door, one hand behind Carole’s back. He was looking at Kurt with such pride in his eyes that couldn’t be measured. Carole led the procession through the restaurant and Blaine and Kurt brought up the rear. Everyone had seen the exchange between Kurt and the two girls and were now staring at the two men. Many were wondering who Kurt was to be asked for an autograph but others had their camera phones out and were snapping away.

“Why did she want my autograph?” Blaine asked Kurt once they were safely inside Kurt’s car. They’d said their final goodbyes to Blaine’s parents where Blaine had got an earful of words from his mother and father about not warning them that Kurt was not only a fashion designer but a famous one too. Blaine knew that as soon as they got back to Westerville, they would look Kurt up on the Internet and discover just how famous their son’s soul mate really was.

What that girl Hannah had done asking Blaine for an autograph completely confused him. He wasn’t famous. He wasn’t well known. Other than speculation about who he was and a good few pictures capturing moments between him and Kurt, no one would look twice at him. The press didn’t even know his name. What would his autograph be worth alongside Kurt’s for a young girl who met her hero?

“She wanted it because of me.” Kurt said. He was twisted round in his seat and slowly backing out of the parking space as he spoke but once they’d cleared the car next to them he put his feet on the brake and clutch to stop the car. Kurt reached over the centre console and pulled down the palm of the woollen red glove he’d been wearing all night, hiding Blaine’s name from public gaze. He tapped the pink scars with his finger. “She wanted the name that was on my hand. Having my signature and that of my soul mate will be valuable one day.”

“But I thought no one really knew still?”

Kurt put the car into gear and turned onto the main road before he answered. “She’s not stupid. No one is, really. Just because we haven’t announced that we’re soul mates doesn’t mean that people don’t realise. Anyway,” Kurt turned away from the road and fixed Blaine with a level stare. “It won’t last much longer you know; us keeping it a secret.”

Blaine sighed, leant back in his seat and rested his chin on his elbow, pressed against the window. “I know.”

--

Burt wasn’t working the next day so he happily told Kurt that he’d be driving them to the airport. Carole gave Blaine a large hug goodbye and Finn, who’d taken his lunch break late so that he could see his brother off, shook his hand for a moment before yanking Blaine into a bone-crushing hug. Burt and Kurt had loaded the suitcases into the back of Kurt’s Navigator by the time Finn let Blaine go and then Kurt was given the same treatment from his much taller brother.

On this journey, Burt insisted that Blaine sit up front with him so they could talk for the two hour drive without having to lean over the central console. Kurt was tapping at his phone for the majority of the drive, answering email after email for Tina and the other members of his team for his third line. He was also scribbling away on a notepad, making a list of everything he had to do over the next few days to catch up.

Blaine wasn’t at all surprised when they arrived at the airport in Columbus and they had an audience waiting for them. Photographers were lounging on the glass doors and the benches outside with their cameras around their neck and cigarettes in their hands. Cigarettes that were hurriedly put out when Kurt, Blaine and Burt made their way through their midst to the inside of the terminal. Once again, Blaine was eternally grateful for the ban on photography inside the terminal building: he doubted that he would last very long with constant flashes of bulbs and the click click click of cameras.

“Have a safe flight, kiddo.” Burt was saying to Kurt, holding his son in a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you Dad.” Kurt said in a small voice, muffled by the shirt his father was wearing. A shirt made by Kurt but still plaid, on Burt’s request.

They separated and Burt turned to Blaine. He gathered his son’s soul mate up in a hug and muttered in his ear: “You’re a good kid, Blaine. I’m glad Kurt’s got you out there.”

“Thank you sir.” Blaine said. He was touched by the affection he’d been shown over the past few days. He hadn’t expected Burt Hummel to be really different from his warm and loving son but the sheer amount of warmth and welcoming he’d gotten was surprising to the boy whose parents would sniff with vague disinterest if Blaine brought a new friend round.

Not any more though, it seemed. The dinner with Blaine’s parents had been as awkward as predicted but had shaken the image Blaine had of his parents to the core. Maybe they were finally becoming comfortable with the fact that their younger son had a male soul mate. Blaine could only hope.

Burt let Blaine go, clapping him on the shoulder once before stepping away. “You boys have a safe flight.” He instructed. As Kurt and Blaine walked into the terminal building towards security, they looked over their shoulders to see Burt watching them go and waving when they looked back at him.

--

On the plane, Kurt sat at the window seat and stared with wondrous eyes at the skyline of New York when they neared the city before landing. It was night and so the skyline was lit up spectacularly. It was a view Blaine could never get used to and neither, it seemed, would Kurt.

His eyes were fixed on the lit buildings, his chin supported by the elbow resting on the armrest, a very small smile gracing his lips. Every so often, Blaine heard a sigh of contentment. Kurt looked perfect like that and Blaine couldn’t keep his eyes off his soul mate. He was beyond lucky: he’d gotten a soul mate with a personality that could knock everyone else’s to the floor and was beautiful to boot.

“I love seeing New York like this.” Kurt said in a small voice meant for Blaine’s ears only. “I wanted to come here for so long so know that I see that skyline and I’m almost home means so much. It’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah, beautiful.” Blaine said, not taking his eyes off Kurt. He leant across the armrest separating their seats and pressed his lips to Kurt’s, finally drawing his soul mate’s eyes away from the view from the window. They kissed with their lips closed for a few seconds but Blaine opened his and massaged first Kurt’s top lip, then his bottom lip. Carefully, he licked at where Kurt’s lips were slightly parted, seeking entrance that was granted immediately.

They kissed for a minute or so more, Kurt’s arms snaking round Blaine’s neck to hold them together, when Kurt broke away abruptly. “We can’t do this here. We’re on a plane.”

“So?” Blaine leant back in for another kiss but Kurt moved his head back just a fraction. “No one’s looking.”

That wasn’t strictly true as the air stewardess had noticed and walked away abruptly to give them privacy and a curious toddler was peering at them from his seat in the row in front of them.

“Later.” Kurt insisted. Then he frowned and asked: “Do you want to stay at mine tonight?”

Blaine nodded and whispered: “Of course.” He leant forward for another kiss. This time he caught Kurt’s lips and sucked lightly at his bottom lip before diving in to massage Kurt’s tongue with his own.

It took a minute more, the seat belt sign to ping and the captain’s voice informing the passengers that they were minutes away from landing and thank you very much for flying with them today before Kurt jerked his head away once more.

“Later, I promise.” He muttered, unable to resist giving Blaine a last peck on the lips. Blaine flopped back into his seat once Kurt had unwound his arms from his neck and buckled his seatbelt. As the plane landed, they held hands across the seat, gazes fixed on each other and the promise of later.

--

Kurt’s apartment was dark. Suitcases had been dumped unceremoniously in the hallway and both their jackets were thrown over the bags. The door to the bedroom was open and the room was lit by the streetlamps glaringly bright outside the window. It illuminated the large vanity, the door to the bathroom, the entrance to the closet and the two boys lying on Kurt’s bed wearing nothing but their underwear.

They had arrived at Kurt’s apartment after being picked up by Kurt’s diver Edward, waiting for them outside the terminal with an expressionless look on his face. They had been predictably ambushed by the paparazzi when they walked out of the terminal building and now Blaine was waiting for a text from Cooper the following morning with more advice on how to look fantastic on camera when he’s just come off a plane.

They’d wasted no time with putting clothes away and had torn their jackets off before coming together with a clash of lips. Kurt had cupped Blaine’s face, angling it whichever way he wanted so they could kiss deeper than before. Blaine had gone straight for Kurt’s ass, cupping one cheek and slipping his hand into the back pocket of Kurt’s jeans to squeeze roughly. They stood for a mere moment, kissing deeply and throaty moans filling the room before Blaine tore his lips from Kurt’s and latched on his neck.

“Blaine- bedroom.” Kurt’s voice was deep and filled with lust and arousal. He stepped forward, aligning their hips and rubbing his hard cock against Blaine’s. Even through their pants the friction was amazing and both of them let out a moan. Then Kurt stepped forward again, forcing Blaine to move back with him.

By the time they had stumbled to Kurt’s bedroom, they’d lost Blaine’s shirt and Kurt’s shirt and waistcoat. When they’d lost their tops, Kurt had practically climbed up Blaine’s body, wrapping arms around his neck and long legs around his waist. Blaine’s hands had flown to Kurt’s ass again like it was a magnet and stumbled to Kurt’s door. All the while he was moving Kurt up and down slightly, rubbing their cocks together to recreate that delicious friction.

They’d crashed onto the bed, Kurt’s legs falling open to accommodate Blaine’s hips and his lips firmly sucking a hickey onto Blaine’s collarbone. Blaine had scrambled to undo the button of Kurt’s pants and lowered the zip with shaking fingers. They’d broken apart only to take off each other’s pants once and for all, Blaine hurrying over to place them on the chair by the door so that Kurt’s clothes weren’t on the floor. Their shirts had been purposefully left on the couch for that exact reason.

When Blaine settled on the bed again, Kurt reversed their positions and straddled Blaine’s hips, grinding down so that their cocks rubbed together with only their thin underwear as a barrier.

“Oh, Kurt.” Blaine groaned, his voice cracking on Kurt’s name, and threw his head back into the pillows. His exposed neck was an invitation and Kurt dove straight there again, sucking a mark on the other side now, just under Blaine jawbone.

Blaine ran his hands down Kurt’s back, feeling soft skin and the heat on his fingertips. He reached Kurt’s underwear and slipped under the elastic to keep in contact with Kurt’s bare flesh. The movement of Kurt’s hips, the kissed he was pressing into his neck, the feel of his too-hot skin under his hands: all made Blaine slip further into a cloud of lust and arousal, where his only anchor to the world was Kurt. Blaine gripped Kurt’s ass and moaned loudly as a flawlessly aimed thrust had their cocks rubbed together perfectly.

“Take them off.” Kurt muttered into Blaine’s ear, the low register and the heat from his breath giving Blaine a shiver that ran down his spine and straight to his cock. He hurried to comply, yanking Kurt’s underwear over his ass but carefully lifting the front over his rock hard prick. Then Kurt took over and kicked them off his lips. These landed on the floor and while Kurt had lifted himself away from Blaine, he’d taken the opportunity to tear away the final cloth barrier that would separate their naked bodies.

Skin met skin as Kurt settled himself on top of Blaine once more. On cue they moaned again, soft skin sliding together helped by their frantic attempts to gain the friction they had before they stopped. Blaine’s fingers traced up and down Kurt, never settling in one place, wanting to map out the image before him. Kurt had twined his hand into Blaine’s curly hair, breaking the gel up and using a forceful grip to keep their lips together.

Kurt’s other hand, however, was following Blaine’s example and tracing down Blaine’s side. He lifted his hips slightly to create space and then wrapped his long fingers around Blaine’s cock, giving it a sharp tug.

Blaine bucked into Kurt’s hand, skin sliding against skin, and he moaned into their kiss. Kurt took a moment to wrap his hand around his own cock as well, holding them looser now but the friction of Kurt’s hand moving up and down and their thrusts that rubbed their cocks together soon had both of them panting for air, mouths pressed together but not kissing.

“How do you want me?” Blaine muttered into Kurt’s ear when they broke apart for air.

Kurt moaned, Blaine feeling the vibrations from where Kurt’s mouth was pressed against the skin of his cheek. When he lifted his head and caught Blaine’s eyes, he murmured: “Not just yet. Roll over.”

Kurt braced himself on his hands and lifted away, giving Blaine space to turn onto his stomach, face pressed into the pillow below him and covers giving delightful friction. He felt cold after the intense heat he couldn’t get enough of coming from Kurt; he would lie like that underneath Kurt, completely naked, for as long as he could.

“You ok, honey?” Kurt’s voice was still deep and the arousal Blaine could hear clearly ran down his spine again. He whined against the pillow, then turned his head and kissed Kurt roughly over his shoulder. He felt Kurt’s hand skim down his sides, his back, landing and his waist and gripping. Each touch felt like fireworks and sparks against his skin and only made him feel more flushed, more hot, wanting more and more.

Kurt’s tongue ran down the length of Blaine’s spine. Blaine could only run his hands up the bed to grip the pillow and groan loudly into the bed. He felt Kurt’s hands running over his cheeks, one thumb slipping down the crack but stopped before it reached the one place Blaine wanted it the most.

He was floating, grounded to earth only by Kurt’s hands on his skin and the feel of the friction from the covers on his cock. He felt Kurt part his cheeks and gave a shout when he felt the pad of Kurt’s tongue start at his hole and run up the length of his crack, like Blaine was an ice cream he could get enough of the taste. He licked down again and circled the puckered hole with the tip of his tongue, making a spiral that grew smaller and smaller each time.

Blaine was still for a moment, panting into the pillow, and then moved. He bucked into Kurt’s tongue, trying to get more of that incredible sensation but lost the friction he’d had on his cock from his movements on the bed. Kurt’s hands gripped his cheeks tighter, holding them open and he teased Blaine’s hole until he was mumbling gibberish into the bedding.

Kurt’s tongue, the thing doing wonders to Blaine’s mind and making the tension in his lower abdomen grow tighter and tighter with each lick, left his crack. Blaine lifted his head to protest but dropped it once more as Kurt licked down the length of his perineum and took one of his balls into his mouth.

“Oh my g-d, Kurt.” Blaine whined into the pillow again and turned his face to look over his shoulder at the light brown hair of his soul mate. “Fuck, yes.”

Kurt lifted his head and pressed a kiss to one of Blaine’s cheeks. “Lube and condoms, top drawer.”

Blaine didn’t move, his eyes glassy as he looked down the length of his own body to where Kurt was knelt between his wide spread legs. He watched Kurt move up toward him and press a light kiss to his jaw right under his ear. A sweet kiss so out of character after the rimming he’d had.

“Lube and condoms, top drawer.” He repeated.

This time Blaine pushed himself away from the bed on shaking arms and reached out to the top drawer, roughly tugging it open and rummaging around. He felt Kurt slide down to where he’d been and gave a cry that morphed into a moan when he felt Kurt lick right over his hole again.

“G-d, Kurt.” He said, turning to look over his shoulder with one arm still in the drawer of the side table.

“You’re complaining?” Kurt asked, lifting his head and resting his chin on one of the cheeks still held apart with his hands. Blaine shook his head emphatically and Kurt looked pointedly at the top drawer.

“I’m getting there.” Blaine turned back to the drawer and rummaged around a little more. “You’re distracting me.”

Just as Kurt turned back to continue teasing Blaine’s hole, his fingers closed around a bottle of lube. Blaine pulled it from the drawer and dropped it onto the bed, sticking his arm back in a similar part of the drawer to find the condom box. As he continued to search, he heard the click of the bottle of lube and a finger pressed against his hole, slipping in easily from the lube and the wetness from the rimming.

Blaine rested his head against his outstretched arm, hearing both him and Kurt groaning at the feel of his snug hole around Kurt’s finger. He finally found the box of condoms, took them out of the drawer and flopped back on the bed, letting go of the box to curl both hands into the covers. He felt Kurt’s lips against his cheek again and Blaine turned his head to peer over his shoulder.

As the finger inside him moved slowly in and out, Kurt pressed kiss after kiss to Blaine’s cheek, forehead and lips. Each kiss left behind tingling sparks that shot straight down to Blaine’s cock. The blunt feel of Kurt’s finger first breaching his hole had stopped the growing tension in his abdomen: any longer with the rimming and Blaine would have come, and it would have taken longer for him to have Kurt’s fingers inside him.

A second finger was pressed in and finally Kurt caught Blaine’s lips in a kiss. It was sloppy; Blaine completely drowning in the sensation coming from Kurt’s fingers inside him, the feel of his body on top of his and Kurt’s lips moving against his own. Kurt moved his fingers in and curled them up, seeking and not quite finding on the first go. He scissored his fingers open and Blaine’s legs fell further apart. He moved his hips to try and bear down on the fingers inside him. Kurt curled them once more and this time-

“Oh g-d Kurt. Oh my g-d Kurt.”

Blaine felt Kurt’s lips curl up into a satisfied smile and he pressed a third fingers inside, moving all three a little faster now, coating the inside with lube and stretching him more.

“Please.” Blaine muttered into the pillow. “Pleaseplease – so good – Kurt.”

Kurt pulled his fingers out of Blaine completely and reached over to the condom box, hurriedly opening it and tearing one open without even removing it from the strip. Blaine lay still on the bed, gasping for breath into the covers. He felt empty without Kurt, like something so important was missing and he’d never get it back. Even as he heard Kurt lubbing up his cock and a small part of Blaine’s brain wanted to turn around and watch his soul mate jerking off, he whined for more of the feeling of Kurt around him, inside him, making him completely Kurt’s.

“Turn over baby.” Kurt said but Blaine shook his head. He looked over his shoulder and where Kurt was kneeling, one hand still moving up and down his cock in slow but deliberate strokes. For a second, Blaine’s eyes fixed on that but then his glazed eyes blinked and he got onto his hands and knees.

“Like this.” He said, still looking at Kurt over his shoulder. “Please- like this.”

Without responding, Kurt settled his hands onto Blaine’s hips. His tight grip broke through the haze of arousal and Blaine shifted once more, opening his legs wider to accommodate Kurt’s body. Then he felt the blunt pressure and the push of something larger than three fingers pressing into his hole.

Once again both Kurt and Blaine groaned, the feel of Blaine’s tight ass making Kurt stop to let both of them adjust once he’d bottomed out. He paused for longer than necessary and the babbling reached Kurt’s ears.

“Move-please g-d- move. Kurt. Oh my g-d. Pleaseplease move.”

So he moved. Kurt started thrusting gently first, the bed barely creaking with their combined movements. The gentle thrusts didn’t last long: a combination of the tightness around Kurt’s cock and the feel of Kurt moving inside him had both men moaning. Blaine started to thrust back against Kurt, desperate for more, for harder and the grip on his hips tightened and Kurt began to thrust harder and faster.

A change in angle had Kurt’s cock brushing passed his prostate and Blaine’s arms, which had been shaky from the stimulation before, collapsed. He was moaning constantly now, babbling nonsensical words as every thrust brushed over his prostate.

“Touch yourself for me Blaine.” Kurt said. He slowed down his thrusts, making them far deeper and he moaned at the sensation. One of Blaine’s hands reached down and as his fist closed over the base of his cock, Kurt sped up his thrusts again.

“Oh g-d Kurt, right there. Harder.”

Blaine sunk his teeth in his lip as he roughly jerked his hand up and down his cock. Kurt was still hitting his prostate with every thrust, every thrust that seemed to get harder each time. He knew he was talking, begging Kurt for something but neither of them knew quite what he was saying.

“G-d Blaine,” Kurt’s voice was thick and heavy and it sent a shiver down Blaine’s spine, making him speed up his hand on his cock, “You feel so good.”

“Kurt- please. Fuck.”

Kurt fucked hard and fast, driving into Blaine’s body. His hand twisted under the head of his cock, Kurt’s thrust hit his prostate dead on, the sound of Kurt’s voice saying “Come on Blaine, come for me” and Blaine was gone.

He whined into his arm, white streaks of come landing on the bedding below him and over his hand. His ass tightened and the sight of Blaine coming, the feel of Blaine coming around him, sent Kurt over the edge.

“Ah, Blaine.” He cried, trusting one last time and tightening his grip on Blaine’s hips. The air was filled with the sound of panting, both of them taking deep breaths, and the smell of sex, sweat and come. After a moment’s pause, Kurt reached down to hold the condom in place and slowly pulled out of Blaine. He moaned at the feel, his thigh jerking from the overstimulation and once Kurt was all the way out, practically collapsed onto the bed, rolling away from the spot where some of his come had landed on the bed.

Blaine watched Kurt bustled into the bathroom, heard the lid on the metal bin slam closed and the sound of water running. Then he was back and ran a cloth over Blaine’s face, smiling down at his soul mate whose eyes can barely stay open. Blaine couldn’t remember the last time he came that hard, the last time he was so lost in the sensations that he didn’t want to move. Sex with Kurt had always been amazing: this was the first time they’d had penetrative sex but every time Blaine stayed round at the apartment that was becoming so familiar, they had some form of sex. Every orgasm had been fantastic: but this one won first prize.

“I don’t want to move.” Blaine whined when Kurt pulled at his hand to get him off the bed. Kurt had gently cleaned them both up, just like him to want them to as pristine as possible before bed. He tugged again, this time making Blaine sit up and slide off the bed.

“Because that was amazing,” He said, pressing a firm kiss to Blaine’s lips and then turning to tug the top cover off his bed and bundling it up into a ball, “you can sleep. We’ll shower in the morning.”

He left the room with the come stained bedding but returned quickly. All Blaine had done was throw the second covers back and slid into bed, punching the flattened pillow to fluff it up again. Kurt joined him, kneeling on top of the covers while they kissed. Kissing slower and far more gently, massaging each other’s lips as they slanted their heads this way and that.

Kurt stood up once more to tug the curtains closed and threw the room into darkness. He closed the top drawer of his side table, contents in disarray after Blaine had rummaged around for the lube and condoms. Lube and condoms that were lying on the floor, forgotten by both boys.

Finally ready, Kurt joined Blaine in the bed, settling comfortably as he curled into Blaine’s open arms. His soul mate was dozing, his eyes closed but not properly asleep just yet. Kurt pressed his lips to the underside of Blaine’s jaw and then tucked his head into the space between Blaine’s jaw and his shoulder. His eyes fell on the hickey he’d sucked into Blaine’s collarbone, red and bright against Blaine’s skin.

The gentle rise and fall of Blaine’s chest, his body heat and the feeling of being surrounded by someone he loved soon sent Kurt off to sleep.

--

Elsewhere a man was sitting at an interview table, his leg bouncing up and down and his hands wringing together. It was an official tabloid but the room was dark, compact and claustrophobic. Pictures of any and every celebrity adorned the walls and three camera cases were stacked on the floor next to a huge pile of loose papers.

The man who owned the office, sitting behind the desk, was smoking a cigar and the sickly smell washed over his companion, making him cringe. He wrung his hands again.

“You’re sure?” The journalist asked. His voice was low and seedy and for a moment, the first man felt like lying just to get out of there. But then he looked at the name scarred onto the palm of his hand and nodded.

“Well if your name is the same as his then we can run the story.” The journalist said. “Of course, you’ll be compensated for stepping up and revealing the name of your soul mate to us. First thing’s first though,” he tapped a photograph that was lying on the dark and messy desk with the unlit end of his cigar, “we need to find out for sure who Kurt Hummel’s new friend is.”