Kurt lazily chewed on the toast his dad just brought him. He carefully laid out the pamphlets on the bed, and spent 10 minutes arranging them alphabetically, then by hideousness of the picture, and then according to the color scheme of the cover, trying to think of a valid excuse to postpone the disastrously awkward impending process of reading those tiny pieces of paper.

Kurt couldn’t believe that after kicking Blaine out of his room on Friday, Blaine would still care about him enough to seek Burt and tell him god knows what that clearly lead to the sex talk. He presumed Blaine would be angry and distant, because Kurt was so damn stubborn in his beliefs. He was still so shocked that he couldn’t even decide what his opinion on the whole matter was.

Surely, Blaine had no right to pry into his personal life. At first, Kurt was hesitant about Blaine’s hangover revelation regarding their newfound difference of opinion about sex, but now he was becoming pretty aware of Blaine’s fears about Kurt closing up. He persuaded the Warblers to let them sing lead on “Animal” together, volunteered to teach him acting sexy, and even to widen his knowledge about sex. Though they accomplished nothing, because of Kurt’s lack of enthusiasm, he finally began to understand that Blaine was deeply concerned. Anyway, he still wasn’t comfortable enough to talk to Blaine, partly because Blaine was the object of his desires. What would they be talking about anyway?

On the other hand, Kurt was secretly thankful and immensely impressed that Blaine had the guts to talk to Burt. It was either a deeply courageous or an outrageously stupid thing to do, especially when you’ve been recently discovered in the bed of the person you wanted to be educated about sex.

The only reasonable explanation was that Blaine saw Kurt as a child, completely lacking knowledge or experience, and furthermore obdurately denying his need to understand. It was frustrating and a little bit heartbreaking, but after all those times when Blaine chose to view him simply as a friend, Kurt decided he would do everything in his power to at least be the best friend he could ever be.

That’s why he took a deep breath and opened the first pamphlet, only to be one step closer to understanding Blaine.

* * *

It was Sunday evening and it has been exactly 48 hours after Kurt kicked Blaine out of his room, also the longest they had gone without communicating. Blaine stared at Kurt’s books piled up neatly on his desk, at Pavarotti’s cage covered with a sheet for the night, at Kurt’s pristine bed across the room. He missed his best friend.

Truth to be told, Blaine hadn’t had a best friend since Gordon. They lost contact after the Sadie Hawkins’ dance, but it was a really good friendship while it lasted. Dalton Academy quickly became a heaven for Blaine - here he felt safe, accepted and at ease. He loved the solemn atmosphere of the serious meetings of the Warbers just as much as goofing around with them after practice. He loved hanging around with Wes and David, because they were older and cooler, but as they turned seniors, they became busier with studying and chorus duties. He loved talking with Nick and Jeff, because they were gay too and he could relate to them about the bullying, but because they were dating, he always felt like a third-wheel. He loved joking with Trent, because he was the funniest guy, but Thad was his roommate, and the way Thad sometimes looked at him like a hungry cat was a little bit terrifying. The Warblers have become his family, but what he really wanted was someone with whom he could feel as much at ease as with himself.

After Kurt transferred, Blaine hoped with all his heart that Kurt would be that person. It is difficult to earn the respect of people like Kurt, as much as it’s hard to lose their loyalty after you’ve gained their trust. From the first meeting, it became clear that Kurt was the epitome of individuality. As Blaine became further acquainted with him, he discovered more of his positive qualities: he was the most morally righteous person Blaine had ever met, secure in his ambitions and dreams, faithful in his friendships and passionate in his talents. Blaine was perpetually stunned that such a brave and powerful personality didn’t break after the hell Kurt had to get through regarding the bullying and harassment. Apart from the respect, Blaine was in awe at how much they had in common, from fashion to movies, from literature to music, there was not a single topic of conversation that has been boring for Blaine to discuss with Kurt. They had their disagreements about certain issues, but there’s no fun in having the same point of view on everything: Blaine liked to mock Kurt about his disinterest in sports, while Kurt had always teased Blaine about genuinely enjoying disco.

And Blaine would be lying if he said Kurt wasn’t attractive. He clearly remembered that moment on the staircase, the first time their eyes locked, the immediate thought that the boy in front of him was an angel, immaculate hair styled with effort, and glasz eyes that were looking right into his soul. But the initial powerful attraction faded into the background after Blaine got to know Kurt a little better and learned about the difficult times that the boy was fighting through. He believed in honest relationships, he enjoyed love stories that developed from a long and loyal friendship, he thought Kurt deserved to be loved wholeheartedly and not just crushed upon.

Also, Blaine wasn’t sure if Kurt had feelings for him. He didn’t dwell upon the subject, because of the support Kurt needed to get out of the Karofsky depression. Furthermore, regarding things that had to do with sex and intimacy, Kurt was very restrained. Blaine had felt as if he had peeked into a box of Kurt’s feelings with that simple ‘I have never been kissed’ sentence, only to find it afterwards perpetually locked. Surely, Blaine would never force Kurt to talk about stuff that was traumatic for him, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent himself that way. He had a difficult time constantly trying to control himself in order not to blurt out stuff like ‘That barista has the cutest smile’ or ‘I would totally bang Orlando Bloom on the coffee table’. What was the point of having a gay best friend if they couldn’t share these kinds of thoughts with each other?

The way Kurt bottled up his feelings made Blaine feel left out. Either Kurt just considered Blaine not good enough a confider, or the Karofsky situation left a giant footprint that dangerously distorted Kurt’s vision of the world. The more time passed, the more Blaine was sure that Kurt should at least take a step away from the painful memories of his McKinley life, a small step forward to reveal his inner world. But things actually got worse, with splashes of avoidance and taciturnity around pre-Christmas time and the whole deal of Valentine’s Day. Which still confused Blaine an awful lot. Was Kurt mad about Blaine’s decision to not tell him about the existence of Jeremiah, embarrassed by the awkward situation and his roommate’s weird habits, or disgusted at the discovery that Blaine was obsessed with masturbation just like any other guy?

Blaine’s head was spinning with thoughts, questions, assumptions. One thing Blaine hated to do was overthink, as the ramification of possible outcomes tangled up so tight that it would be impossible to reach any logical conclusion. But right now he couldn’t help but brainstorm, as he was a little bit worried about screwing up his friendship with Kurt.

Thinking back on the events of the past week, the only thing Blaine was sure he did right, was speaking with Kurt’s father. Burt would to the right thing for his son in the aspect of teaching him about sex. He hoped that Kurt wasn’t angry about his overstepping, but judging by the weekend spent without any single message, he wasn’t so sure that he hadn’t crossed the line.

Glancing at the clock, Blaine was surprised to find out it was already past curfew. Clearly, Kurt would be coming back only the next morning. Blaine finally decided to switch the nightstand light off and quickly removed his shirt. He never slept with a shirt on. Even when Kurt tried to persuade him by listing the benefits of an undershirt and pajama long-sleeved shirt with embroidered initials, Blaine never failed to tell him it was ridiculous. Leaving only the sweatpants on, he got under the covers and lay on his side, facing Kurt’s bed again.

Despite the tiredness, his mind still lingered on the same topic. He thought about how much he loved physical pleasure, about how much meaning it had to have achieving such pleasure with a loving partner. He thought about the historical paradox of society viewing sex like something shameful, when in reality it was completely natural and expected. He thought about how much he enjoyed watching porn, the fuel for his fantasies, and about the look of fear in Kurt’s eyes, the blush of embarrassment on his face at the slightest mentioning of those movies.

Blaine thought about the possibility of Kurt being asexual. He would have to deal with the fact of having a best friend that completely lacked interest in sex, when his own sex drive was shamefully over the top. Without intention his thoughts slid off to the night he saw Kurt masturbating. His memories were muddled by alcohol, but the flush on Kurt’s cheeks, his leaking cock peeking from the underwear and his body tensing and shivering in little shocks was something he couldn’t forget. The intensity of the act was astounding, and the way Kurt’s hand stroked quickly while he was half-asleep was clearly a clue that it was habitual. It was the first time he witnessed something sexual happening with his own eyes, apart from the porn. He wondered if recalling it made him remember things he didn’t see, imagine things he would’ve liked to see. Kurt looked so pretty and innocent, but debauched at the same time.

Blaine’s hand inevitably found its way into his pants. Strangely, he didn’t feel the slightest ounce of guilt thinking about Kurt. Kurt felt the same insatiable need, had dirty fantasies, secretly enjoyed touching himself. Blaine reached down and slid his hand under the waistband of his underwear, his fingers purposely avoiding his swelling cock. He played a little with his balls, pulled at the thin skin of the groin, stroked over his thighs. He liked building the excitement until the need to touch was unbearable; turn something erotically slow into an explosion of neediness. He liked playing overly detailed fantasies in his head, nameless beautiful guys wanting to touch, to lick, to tease and rub and thrust and fuck him. His other hand reached down as caressed along the cleft of his ass and slowly massaged the hot skin near his hole. His cock was fully erect, every vein throbbing desperately.

Blaine closed his eyes and guiltlessly imagined Kurt sitting on his bed across the room. He boldly stripped Kurt of all the clothes and drank in the sight of his nakedness. Milky pale chest, adorned with little pink nipples, the long arms and legs, graceful and strong, that neck that craved to be bitten and licked all over, the delicate dip of the navel and the soft line of hair that lead down to his beautiful cock.

The roughness of the fingers was becoming painful, so he quickly reached for the bottle of lube that he kept under the pillow. The liquid was cold on the pads of the fingertips, but it warmed up as he smeared it around the tight ring of muscles.

He imagined Kurt standing up and coming to his bed in slow steps, smiling devilishly. Blaine’s breath hitched, as Kurt made a move to straddle him. He quickly laid on the back, adjusting his hands to the new position, his thoughts to the new exciting fantasy. Now Kurt was hovering above Blaine, surrounding him, pushing his sweatpants down to mid-thigh, invading every last bit of personal space. He pretended that Kurt’s long slim fingers were stretching him open, and his legs automatically spread wider, hips pushing upwards.

‘You’re so hard for me,’ Kurt murmured right in his ear, low and seductive, and Blaine swallowed involuntarily. Oh god, dirty talk really turned him on. ‘I want you so bad,’ continued Kurt, pressing his lips up the column of his neck. ‘I want to fuck you. Fuck yourself on my fingers’.

Blaine’s fingers slid easily into the slickness of his hole, everything was tight and hot inside of him. The delicious feeling of fullness compensated the burn of the stretch. Kurt’s imaginary lips were now sucking on his nipple, which sent a thrill down Blaine’s chest and belly right between his spread legs. He couldn’t avoid how hard he became from the fantasy, how much he wanted to finally touch his cock. Trying to hastily pour the lube with one hand was no easy task, too much liquid coated his palm that now was excessively slick and dripping, leaving wet stains on the sheets. But it didn’t matter. Kurt’s apparition smirked and finally wrapped a hand around his throbbing dick, eliciting a loud moan of relief from Blaine.

The slickness and wetness were phenomenal, but they were nothing compared to that delicious urge that settled inside of Blaine when he started to pump. ‘You love it when I touch you, don’t you, Blaine?’ Kurt whispered, brushing a thumb just under the head. Blaine was moaning, groaning, whining, and forgetting to breathe. He cried louder than ever, but didn’t care about all the noise, he was enjoying every single second of it. The soft thumping of his thrusts was met by the incessant pushing of his fingers, buried deep up to the knuckles, brushing gently against his prostate and slipping out again almost completely. The increasing rhythm was becoming uncontrollable, his muscles were tensing all over and his body was scorching hot - he was so undeniably close.

And then a sudden image of his fingers being replaced by Kurt’s cock, being inside of him, fucking wildly into him, slamming and pushing, drove Blaine completely mad with lust. ‘I will fuck you so hard, until you can’t help but scream my name,’ imaginary Kurt groaned, and Blaine cried out a desperate ‘Ahh-’, his brows furrowed and eyes closed—

And he was having the most mind-blowing orgasm he’s ever had. He came on his belly and chest, streaks of white mixing with the salty sweat on his skin, his hand stroking lazily through his climax until he was finally spent.

Blaine was trying to catch his breath, his heart still beating erratically, when the sudden sound of his ringtone scared him to half-death. He carelessly wiped the hands on a tissue before reaching for the phone. When he saw Kurt’s name flashing on the display he momentarily froze in silent panic. But the buzzing was so annoyingly loud that he wanted it to stop more than anything right now. Blaine pressed the receive call button without much preparation.

- Hello?

- Hi, Blaine, - Kurt’s familiar high-pitched voice echoed in his ear, and the thought of Fantasy Kurt whispering filth in his ear with that same exact voice made him shiver.

- Hi, Kurt, - Blaine tried to steady his tone as much as he could.

- Listen, I just called to say that I’ll return tomorrow morning…

- Okay, I kind of figured it out.

- But also to tell you how sorry I am for what happened on Friday, I shouldn’t have thrown you out of my room when you just wanted to help me.

- It’s okay, Kurt, I’m glad we’re fine, - said Blaine with genuine relief.

- Huh, right, I’m glad too. What were you up to this whole weekend?

Blaine’s heart jumped up to his throat. ‘Not much, just jerking off to thoughts of you,’ he thought, but managed to squeeze a decent sentence out of himself.

- Not much. Read a book for lit class.

- …Okay. I’ve been reading something too. My dad brought me these pamphlets.

- Pamphlets?

- Yes. And he gave me a sex talk.

- Oh, - Blaine wasn’t prepared to hear real Kurt say the word ‘sex’ right after he imagined doing it with him. His brain wished to press the breaks to slow down this conversation, but apparently Kurt had a lot to say.

- I just wanted to say, that the talk and the pamphlets certainly made me reconsider the opinions I had on the matter, - Kurt stated with an accomplished tone of voice.

- I guess that’s good, - Blaine said with an awkward laugh, looking down at his own naked body covered with come. If only he knew.

- Also, I’m impressed that you talked to my dad and remained alive, - Kurt was clearly smiling, which made Blaine smile a little too. No matter how ridiculous or complicated the situation was, Kurt would always remain his best friend.

- That’s right, when I was in your dad’s shop I was concerned for my life too, - replied Blaine and heard Kurt chuckle immediately in response.

- I’m glad you called, Kurt, - whispered Blaine earnestly.

- Yeah, me too.

They stayed on the line for a little while in silence.

- Okay then. See you tomorrow, I guess. Good night Blaine.

- Good night, Kurt. Sweet dreams.