Chapter 11:

Kurt's eyes were flicking across the screen of the laptop with alarming speed; unblinking and frantic, while his finger clicked repeatedly at the mouse. Blaine watched him with mounting concern.

 Driving back from the Hummel's, Kurt had remained silent; a mute shadow, listless and robotic. For the first time, Blaine could see Kurt in the empty figure that lay in the hospital bed and it terrified him.

 It had almost been a relief when Kurt had suddenly galvanised himself into action on reaching their building, scrabbling around for Blaine's computer and internet cable and tearing up the apartment in his efforts.

 The other man could do little but watch from the safety of the kitchen as he whirlwind through Blaine's still unpacked boxes left over from university and home; carelessly discarding memories which dropped like ash to the floor under Kurt's ruthless disregard.

 Neither had spoken since they'd left Burt, all intimacy of the previous night dissipating as Kurt withdrew into his own personal hell and Blaine could only watch from afar. The rapid change in Kurt's demeanour had left Blaine a little off balance and he felt his words imprisoned in his head, unable to escape into comforting phrases to sooth the other man.

 But now, watching Kurt's lips move in whispered urgency as he trawled through website after website, reading aloud segments of text before impatiently flicking pages aside, Blaine wanted desperately to reach him.

 "For fuck's sake!"

 Once again, Blaine was shoved forcibly back into the present with Kurt's exasperated howl of disgust at the screen.

 "You're fucking Google!" he screamed at the laptop, slamming his fingers down aggressively on the keyboard as he typed in yet another search. "You're meant to be able to know fucking everything!"

 The screen remained silent, stoic through the misdirected abuse.

 Stepping forward to intervene, Blaine moved to place his hand on the shoulder, now shaking with rage. Kurt flinched and pushed the comfort away violently. Despite knowing it was fear that was doing this to him, Blaine leapt back is if burned and allowed the cold look in Kurt's eyes to break him a tiny bit more.

 "If you want to help Blaine," Kurt snapped, "Then do something other than moon at me with those fucking puppy-dog eyes!"

 The aching in Blaine's chest turned into a bubble of rage and he spun Kurt's chair around aggressively to force the other man to stop.

 "Don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare take this out on me Kurt." He growled through his clenched teeth.

 "I've been trying to ‘help' you ever since I found you half-fucking naked in my goddamn bathroom. I didn't ask for this. I don't fucking need this." The words bit out into the air and he watched Kurt's eyes flicker with pain before he drew his mouth into a tight line.

 "So sorry to mess up your ordered little life with my imminent death!" he spat back without thinking.

 The mention of death seemed to punch both men solidly in their guts and Blaine blanched at the reality of what hung between them, wanting desperately to draw the words back into his own mouth and swallow them away. 

 Kurt remained rigid and shaking with rage for the tiniest of seconds before visibly sinking into the chair, his shoulders relenting and hunched over, eyes dropped.

 "I'm sorry" he whispered, not meeting Blaine's gaze and staring intently at his hands folded in his lap. There was no rage left. Blaine only ached to be able to help him and reached across the gulf between them to press a gentle kiss to Kurt's quivering lips.

 "I know." He said softly, kissing a trail over the other man's jaw and neck in an attempt to erase his pain. Their foreheads rested together in a moment of mutual surrender and then Blaine stepped back, turning to the screen.

 Flashes of titles caught his eyes, ‘Astral Projection', ‘Higher Consciousness', ‘Ghosts', ‘The After Life'. There were dozens of them. File after file cramming the icon bar at the bottom of the page and by the looks of Kurt's dejected face and his sudden outburst of rage, none had offered any answers. Blaine gently reached across Kurt's body and silently clicked off the laptop. The computer hummed into silence, winking out, leaving a heavy pause in the air.

 "Friday Blaine.....Friday. What do I do? That's two days Blaine. Two!" He said more emphatically as if Blaine hadn't quite managed to work it out for himself.

 "How do we fix me" he implored again. Kurt dragged pleading eyes over Blaine, clearly not meaning the question to be rhetorical. The other man raked his fingers through his unruly curls and sighed.

 "Maybe we're looking at this wrong." He started, a notion in his head vaguely forming into some semblance of sense as he spoke.

 "Maybe we need to think not about how to get you back in your body." He ignored the quizzical look from Kurt and carried on in an attempt to clarify.  "What I mean is...um...well. Maybe we should be looking more at why you left your body in the first place."

 The end of the sentence was rushed but he could see Kurt mulling it over, rolling the words around in his mouth to taste them.

 "If we could work out why your body rejected you..." Blaine watched Kurt flinch but carried on, finding some reason behind what had initially been a stumbled idea.

 "Or why you rejected it.....If we could work out that...well maybe we can start to piece together how to reverse it. How to fix the issue while you're out here" he gestured around them before ploughing on, "and then maybe your body will take you back. Maybe you'll fit again."

 The idea seemed to resonate with Kurt as his eyes flicked upwards, clearly thinking through the logistics of Blaine's thoughts and he nodded slightly.

 "That sort of makes sense." He said, following it with the first smile Blaine had seen him make since that morning; before the mirror and his father and ‘Friday' happened and dragged it away again.

 "Not that anything makes sense at the moment..." he laughed slightly. "but I guess in all the not making sense, that suggestion doesn't make any less sense than the others." Kurt finished, smiling a little more broadly at his ineloquence. 

 Holding on to the hope that had come hurtling into the room with Kurt's hesitant smile, Blaine hauled himself in to action.

 "Right." He said, straightening up. "So..ok..So we just need to work out why your, what.... Soul..?" he looked questioningly at Kurt who wrinkled his nose at the idiocy of the word but shrugged.

 "Ok. So your soul....work out why it doesn't want to be in your body anymore." Blaine finished with a slight nod of satisfaction at having formed some sort of a plan, as hazy as it was and Kurt smiled at his enthusiasm.

 "Yeah but I'm not sure I can help you" he started. "I have no idea why my" he pause, twisting his mouth uncomfortably at the word he was about to use. "Fine.. Whatever. My Soul. If that's what we're calling it. I'm not sure why it wouldn't want to be in my body. I thought I was pretty....well not happy as such.. but pretty ok. with my life before the accident." He looked down a little, shy in his admittance allowing all the self-doubt of high school to bubble up to the surface again.

 "Why not happy?" Blaine said, looking at the man with wide, encouraging eyes. Kurt looked away again, staring instead out of the window. A pigeon was perched precariously on the ledge, its coos mingled with the muted chatter of the street below.

 "I guess my father was right." His voice was quiet, almost wistful. Blaine waited, watching the dusty, afternoon light from the window play across Kurt's face.

 "When he said I don't have any friends, he was right. No-one really stuck around after school. Well not except Rachel, but then she's marrying Finn and they kind of have each other and I don't want to feel....well you know how it is?" he trailed off, still not looking at Blaine.

 He had drifted, away from the room and the hospital and the situation and each word seemed like a sort of revelation to him; like he'd never really spoken the thoughts aloud but now that he was, everything was slotting into some sort of empty, sad place in his brain. Blaine just shifted his body a little closer on the sofa, turning slightly more to look at the man beside him.

 "High school sucked." Kurt continued, the words taking on bitterness. "You don't meet people in Columbus. You have passing acquaintances and fumbles with guys in college but you don't ever really meet people" a desperate need was emphasized on the stressed word. Blaine touched his hand lightly and Kurt jumped, as if remembering he was even in the same room.

 "Kurt, I know you don't think I understand but I do." He glanced again at the scar on his forearm and this time Kurt didn't let it pass. Reaching out his fingers, he traced the ugly line, mapping a path from Blaine's elbow almost to his wrist. The whispered, feathery caress made Blaine's eyes roll closed momentarily and he breathed in the touch like oxygen.

 "How did it happen?" Kurt asked quietly.

 Light vanished from Blaine's eyes as he felt the pain creep back into his veins from years before; years when all he remembered was darkness and aching bones and blanks days. His voice was low and oddly calm.

 "It was a school dance. Just one night to feel like everyone else; like I thought I deserved some tiny shred of normalcy to remember from my school days." The hard edge of his tone cut through Kurt and the other man watched him bleakly.

 "I'd come out a few months before and my brother's friend had offered to go with me. Just as friends. He was doing me a favour but I went with it, the charity. Just to give me one regular experience in the mire of shit that I'd been wading through for years."

 Blaine's eyes became utterly devoid of light as he told the rest, delivered in a monotone that sliced through Kurt's skin.

 "They attacked us in the carpark." He paused as a memory shot through his brain. "With metal rods.... Lee wasn't so bad, just bruises. He was bigger. They just held him down." He laughed without humour, a strange hollow empty sound that made Kurt flinch.

 I guess I'm pretty small. Was even more so then..... so they broke me. They broke every part of me that could breathe, or feel or hurt or laugh."

 Silenced hummed between them. A cheerful shout danced through the open window from the street below followed by a blast of loud music calling out from a passing car. Inside the cool air tiptoed around the still men.

 Without a word, Kurt leant down and placed his mouth to the scar; feathery kisses fluttering over the branded skin. Blaine's lips parted slightly and he drew in a tiny whisper of breath, eyes closed to the sensations as Kurt's tongue traced a new path across his tingling flesh.

 To Blaine it felt as if he were being rewritten. As if he was a page beneath Kurt's author's hands that was taking on a new plot, new character.

 "You're beautiful" he breathed as his mouth hovered above the scarred flesh. The other man's damaged nerves seem to prickle with feeling for the first time, rippling currents under the layers of abused tissue, as if Blaine could conjure that sensation through simply watching Kurt's caresses.

 "You're beautiful Blaine" he said again, pausing between each kiss, each lick, to whisper soft words of adoration into the skin.

 His mouth trailed up his arm, fingers sliding to the buttons on Blaine's shirt as he kissed a path down his chest, moving lower with each released clasp. "No pain." He mouthed against the muscles. "No darkness".

 His tongue found Blaine's nipple and he blew gently across it, watching it shrink and pucker. "No past" Gasps peppered the air as Blaine's head fell back against the sofa cushions. "No bruises."

 Kurt moved to straddle his lap, slipping the shirt off the trembling man's shoulders, following its course with soft bites. Closing his mouth over his collarbone, he sucked gently, responding to Blaine's whimpers with more pressure, marking new imprints on the flesh. New lines of the story.

 "Kurt..." Blaine was pushing hard against the man above him, his cock straining in his too tight jeans, desperate for more friction, more pressure.

 "Kurt Kiss me...please" he begged into the soft hair stroking his chin as he felt lips still wet and hot against his pulse. "Please...."

 Raising his head to finally stare directly into Blaine's dilated eyes, Kurt licked a strip along his lips, parting them softly to lap his way inside. A desperate, aching moan eased out between them and then all gentle touch was gone, replaced with heat and pulsing flesh and thick tongues probing each other's mouths.

 Kurt's hands delved into the other man's curls, tugging on the hair and grabbing his head to smash their mouths together even harder, as if trying to meld them into one pulse, one heartbeat.

 Fumbling for Kurt's t-shirt, Blaine tore it over his head, clutching at the fiery flesh of his waist and digging his nails into the tender skin. Kurt groaned into his mouth and yanked his head back to stare at the writhing man bucking beneath him, grinding his cock against his groin.

 "I want you...."Blaine grunted. "I...ah...fuck...Kurt!" Words deserted him as Kurt's hand found its way into his pants and wrapped strong fingers around his cock. He thrust up into the tight circle of his fist and let out a guttural howl, eagerly swallowed up by Kurt's mouth.

 "What do you want Blaine?"

 Kurt licked his tongue into his ear, voice low and darkly sinful. Blaine's breath was rasping, nonsensical syllables spilling out of his mouth. Moving his head slightly to lean in towards the lips that were sucking on the tender skin behind his ear, Blaine whispered, voice hitching slightly,

 "You need to fuck me Kurt"

 He allowed himself a satisfied smirk at the desperate whimper that squeaked out of the other man. Kurt's fingers swiped over the head of the leaking cock in his hand, smearing the pre-cum around the slit.

 "Shit, Fuck Kurt....ugh...Like now!"

 The remaining clothes were tugged off in an ecstasy of fumbling fingers and frantic gasps, pants torn down in a desperate attempt to feel skin on skin and grip and stoke.

 When their sweat soaked bodies finally found their way to slide against each other, both men's cock's clasped together in Kurt's hand, Blaine finally released a long drawn out breath of satisfaction.

 This felt like where he belonged, his rough chest pushing against the unblemished pearly whiteness of Kurt'; his mouth sucking its own melody against the throbbing skin beneath him.

 They'd shifted positions, Blaine now straddling Kurt's naked hips while the other man sat back against the cushions, his eyes raking over every inch of body above him as he pumped firmly at their cocks. Blaine watched, his tongue darting out to lick at his dry lips at the sight of the thick purple length of Kurt's leaking erection, groaning at the thought of it inside him, stretching his relatively untouched skin. Blaine ached for the feeling.

 He'd bottomed before, had wanted to experience all sensations available to him when he was experimenting back in college, but he'd only done it the once. Trusting another man; laying yourself so vulnerable before another person, allowing them to invade you, didn't come easily to Blaine.

 He'd surprised himself with the desperate needy voice that had begged for Kurt to fuck him; surprised himself with how certain he was that he wanted to let Kurt in to that part of him, to let Kurt redefine him in some way. But now, as he felt the pressure release on their cocks and his body being lifted up slightly, he was trembling. Kurt paused and looked at him, his features softening from all consuming lust to concern.

 "Are you sure Blaine?" he asked, voice quiet and hesitant. "We don't have to."

 "No....I want to. I do. It's just....I don't normally...only once." He tried to convey what he meant, wanted to show Kurt exactly how much this meant to him. How much he wanted this. "I want to let you in. I want to feel you inside me, with me, Kurt."

 Eyes blown wide with lust and need and unrestrained emotion at Blaine's words, Kurt leaned forward and pulled the man to his mouth again, slotting his tongue back into the searing heat.

 "Kneel up for me" he said low and controlled. Blaine shivered at the words, anticipation flooding his body with electric sparks.

 Reaching for the lube and condoms that they'd grabbed earlier in their desperate struggle to rid themselves of their clothes, Kurt smeared some over his fingers, dribbling some over Blaine's neglected cock as well and sliding up and down the length again, watching the man shudder with need. 

 He reached around behind Blaine and slid his finger suggestively down the crack of his arse, delving deeper with each stroke until his fingers teased around the puckered entrance, eyes trained on Blaine's the whole time. A small whine was dragged out of Blaine's throat and he gasped at the unfamiliar sensations.

 His muscles clenched involuntarily, fighting against the intrusion, but Kurt was patient, slowly circling the sensitive flesh until he felt the man relax slightly above him so he could push just the tip of his finger into the tight heat. The wanton moan that Blaine emitted was enough to tell him he could push further and he sank in, sliding up to the knuckle. 

Blaine was gasping, eyes closed, trying to regulate his breathing. Kurt gently pulled out only to thrust back in again, moving his finger around to loosen the desperately tight stretch.

 "More." Blaine growled above him, unable to form more than single words. Kurt didn't need any prompting though, removing his finger and sliding back in with two.

 This time the stretch was obvious and Kurt wondered achingly how he was ever going to fit his cock inside that clenching, tight heat. He felt himself throb beneath Blaine at the thought and he moaned deeply. "Fuck, Blaine. So tight....jesus!"

 Kurt pulled back, searching Blaine's face, wanting to watch his reaction as he gently curled his fingers upwards.

 Blaine's world felt like it had exploded; white heat spread through his nerves and he screamed out a string of incoherent sounds as Kurt repeatedly stroked against his prostate.

 "Kurt. Now. Shit.. I need you now Kurt!" he writhed, fucking down on the now three fingers buried deep inside him.

 "Are you sure you're stretched enough?" Kurt asked, worry flitting across his beautiful features.

 "Fuck...." Blaine tried to speak but Kurt was still pressing hot pokers of fire against the collection of nerves deep inside him and he struggled to form even simple words. "Yes. Fuck. Yes Kurt...I'm ready....Just do it, please...I need you inside me."

 With an animalistic grunt, Kurt yanked his hands out of Blaine and frantically rolled on the condom, aligning himself with the other man's hole.

 Without thinking, Blaine impaled himself, shoving down hard on the full throbbing length of Kurt's cock in one fluid motion.

 The breath was knocked out of him at the pain that surged through his body from the sudden intrusion and he squeezed his eyes shut against the stretch of himself wrapped around Kurt.

 "Oh my fucking God Blaine!" Kurt growled in shock at the immediate achingly tight heat that was blazing around his erection. "Christ, warn a guy!...Shit...Blaine, are you ok?"

 They stayed completely still, neither quite able to breath with the sensations flooding their body. Kurt started to softly stroke his hand up and down the other man's shaking back as he soothed him, waiting for him to adjust to the painful stretch and feel of Kurt inside him.

 Blaine's eyes remained closed, breathing heavily through his nose in long, steady breaths, taking him through the deep ache that was starting to dull slightly as his muscles flexed.

 Eventually, Blaine opened his eyes and met Kurt's concerned blue ones, he smiled slightly, holding his gaze.

 "You feel amazing" he whispered against Kurt's lips, ghosting his mouth across the skin before biting down gently, pulling the flesh between his teeth and sucking.

 Kurt could only moan, head thrown back as he felt Blaine raise his hips slightly, dragging off his length only to slide back down again, deliciously slow and far more accommodating this time round.

 Neither man spoke, words lost to sounds and grunts and slapping skin against skin as Blaine started a more forceful rhythm, Kurt thrusting up in time to meet with each downward motion. The air was heavy with sweat and heat and the smell of sex as their movements became more urgent.

 "Oh God..Kurt...too much...Shit, I'm close.." Blaine cried as he felt his stomach clenching with each desperate thrust against his prostate and the heat uncoiling inside him. It had been so long and he finally felt exposed and raw and utterly wrecked beneath the sensations Kurt was assaulting his body with.

 Kurt grabbed his hips and only fucked him harder, pounding against his arse with longer and unrelenting thrusts as Blaine stopped moving and just let the pleasure course through him. He looked abandoned, wild and boneless, back arched, head thrown back while he allowed Kurt to devour his body. Consume him.

 The sight of how utterly open Blaine had lain himself made heat surge through Kurt and he felt his orgasm rip through him with little warning. He screamed out a string of letters that seemed to form some semblance of Blaine's name as he spurted into him.

 White fogged his brain but he didn't stop, desperate for Blaine to come with him, knowing he was close.

 The feeling of Kurt's pulsing cock inside him and the repeated assault on his prostate was too much for Blaine and he exploded, his untouched cock spattering streams of come across both their chests and letting out the most obscenely visceral sound Kurt had ever heard, sending further spasms through his own already painfully sensitive cock.

 Blaine's head thumped against Kurt's chest as he collapsed, quivering and struggling for breath. Kurt remained still, head back and panting against the sofa cushions staring at the ceiling.

 "Fuck Kurt...." Blaine started to say, trying to articulate everything, anything, that meant something and failing miserably. There were no words according to Blaine. None that could do what they'd just experienced justice. "That was...That...ugh!" He gave up, hoping Kurt could simply feel the unexpressed words.  

 "Yeah...it was" was all the affirmation Kurt could manage, arms hanging limply by his sides in absolute surrender to the man above him.