The small part of his brain that was coherent enough to form a logical response to his situation supplied the answer for him: hair. The brown string was hair that smelt vaguely like vanilla and jasmine. The warmth shifted some more, sliding down off his chest and burrowing itself against his side.

Kurt.

Soft, even breaths tickled across his chest as Kurt nuzzled his cheek into the crook between Blaine's neck and shoulder. A pale arm tangled itself around him, fingers grazing over the skin on the side of his ribcage. He shuddered a bit at the touch, Adam's apple bobbing. In the two years since he'd started physically fooling around with other guys he'd never known how sensitive his sides were. It was nice really, he decided as he felt Kurt sigh against him, everything about Kurt was nice.

And that was what worried him so much. All of this was new, so completely new. It was a wasteland of uncharted territory. The thoughts that ran through his mind, the way his heart raced when he was around Kurt–there was no way this was normal. He didn't understand what all of this met, or why he was feeling these things. But he knew he was feeling something and the very thought terrified him. He'd swore off that kind of shit years ago, back when he'd been taunted and had the crap knocked out of him two or three times a week. When he'd come home to find his father passed out drunk on the couch, his step-mother pretending everything was perfectly normal, and his little sister's eyes full of innocence and wonder, completely oblivious to anything out of the ordinary in their house.

Hell, he'd cut himself of from feeling anything after his mother had died and his father couldn't look at him anymore. Because he reminded him of her with his smile and his thick, dark curls, and his love for playing the piano that she'd cherished.

Frowning, he shook himself a bit. God, he hadn't thought about those things in years. He'd been trying to forget it all since he'd been dropped off at this shithole apartment in May. They weren't his family anymore–not even Lily. He'd done his best to forget he had a baby sister he was forbidden from ever seeing again.

Kurt shifted against him again, then rolled to face away from him and the window, pulling the pillow lying there into a tight hug. It was Kurt that was doing all of this to him. Making him feel things and remember things. He was like some sort of weird electrical shockwave coursing across his skin and through his veins. Only he didn't fade away, he pulsed stronger with every second, awakening parts of him that even Blaine hadn't known existed.

A shiver ran its way down his spine at the loss of Kurt's warm embrace. But he didn't miss it. No, he couldn't afford to miss something as trivial as that. It was a sinful pleasure he enjoyed because it got him off and then he was done until he needed another fix. And it was that simple, he thought himself, it couldn't be anything else. He shook himself again and ignored the urge to curl up behind the other boy. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he grimaced as he caught sight of his now ruined boxer-briefs. He couldn't afford that either.

He stripped them off and cast them into the little waste basket in the corner. It was the newest addition to his room–he gotten bored over the weekend and gone dumpster diving behind the Wal-Mart. He'd found a little phone with an answering machine as well, but he hadn't bothered setting it up yet. A quick glance at the clock told him they still had two hours before school started. He shuffled around the cold room, slammed his heel into the heater unit to get it running again and grabbed some random clothes from his weirdly organized trunk. An almost fond smile tugged at his lips before he stopped himself.

He couldn't get attached. Feeling things for others only got you hurt. But that didn't change one important thing: Kurt was his. Nobody else was going to have him if he had anything to say about it. He'd marked that beautiful boy and nobody was going to take him away from him.

The bathroom door thumped closed behind him a few moments later.

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Kurt woke up with a crick in his neck and a cold draft breezing over his body. It took him a moment to realize he was lying in a bed that wasn't his own and that he was very, unbelievably naked. The sheets were twisted around his shins and he felt embarrassed and shy as he bolted into a sitting position, fumbling for the sheets as a shield from any prying eyes. But the room–Blaine's room–was empty. He glanced at the little clock on the nightstand. An hour and a half until they had to be at school. God, his hair was going to be a mess, and his face was going to freckle and break out and get all puffy because he hadn't done anything to it.

Something clattered to the ground on the other side of the wall. It took him a moment to register the sound of rushing water. Blaine must be in the shower. The mental image that accompanied that thought really did nothing to stop him from blushing at the empty room.

After a few more moments of sitting there awkwardly he clamped the sheets around his waist and scooped up his clothes, grimacing at the thought of wearing them over. If he hurried he'd still have time for a quick shower at home and a new, fresh outfit. Because there was no way he could show up to school in the same outfit two days in row. His friends would notice, though he could probably get away with it given everything going on in his life.

He dug through the rumpled blanket on the bed, pulling out the Batman pajama pants and his boxer-briefs. Just the thought of his underwear in Blaine's pants kept his blush burning. A few fumbling minutes later he'd pulled his clothes on as the shower stopped behind him. He almost caved to the sudden urge to just grab his bag and leave, but he couldn't seem to move his feet. Why was he so embarrassed? God, he'd loved everything about last night. It had still been Blaine's fast and slightly rough pace, but the undertones of sweetness were still making his stomach swoop.

Out of sight, the bathroom door creaked open and Blaine shuffled around the wall with a toothbrush dangling out of his mouth. His hair was dripping wet, leaving trails of water coasting down his neck and bare chest to the patch of dark hair on his lower stomach. Kurt had never really thought he'd have a thing for stomach or chest hair, but he really couldn't stop staring at where the dark trail dipped below the elastic band of Blaine's boxers. Briefly he wondered if the trail would continue its trek north over the next couple of years. He certainly hoped it would–and that'd be still have the chance to touch and taste it.

It was an awkward moment when they finally met each other's eyes. Half of him wanted to pull Blaine into his arms and kiss him and say good morning and just pretend everything was simple and perfect. But he knew things were far from that between them. They liked each other–did things together that Kurt had only thought he'd do in a committed relationship–but neither of them seemed to be able to admit to anything.

"Bathrooms open." Blaine grumbled around his toothbrush, dribbling toothpaste down his chin in the process.

Despite himself, Kurt smiled a little at the sight. The Blaine he was hopelessly falling for was there for only him to see, and opening up like a flower did in the early dawn hours. Because he was falling; tumbling, spiraling, diving head first into the deep end and probably going to crash into a wall and shatter his heart into a million pieces. God, this was all going to hurt so much if everything he thought was real to him wasn't real to Blaine–if he was just making everything up in his head.

He reached up and wiped the toothpaste off Blaine's scratchy chin, unable to stop the smile from widening across his face. Blaine flushed at the gesture, eyes flickering away almost bashfully, and really it was the most adorable thing Kurt could have dreamed up. And Kurt knew there was more than just steel and ice in Blaine's heart as the briefest little glimmer of happiness sparkled in those hazel-green eyes. There was something amazing in there waiting to show itself to him; he would just have to be patient.

"I'm just gonna brush my teeth and then head home and shower and change." he said quietly, walking around Blaine towards the bathroom, "Do...do you want to go with me?"

"Depends on how far it is." Blaine answered, shaking his leg out like a dog. The ankle monitor clinked gently as Kurt's eyes follow Blaine's line of sight. He wanted so desperately to ask, but they really didn't have the time. He didn't think Blaine would give him a lot of answers right now anyway. There had already been so much he'd learned just from last night.

After a quick brush and a slight hesitation of whether or not he should keep his toothbrush here for the future, he left the bathroom empty handed. Blaine was fully dressed now, his bag slung over his shoulder as he tugged his trunk back under the window. They left quickly, hopping into his Navigator and pulling out onto Thomas Street, back tracking past McKinley's still empty lots, and north towards the better neighborhoods.

Blaine's eyes were trained on his mileage tracker and Kurt knew he was just waiting for it to hit close to whatever his radius of life was. But he didn't stop him as he turned down Landing Drive and pulled into the left side of his driveway. Swallowing the lump in his throat at the sight of his father's Mustang he killed the engine and got out. Silently, Blaine followed him, taking in their new surrounding as Kurt unlocked the door and set his bag down.

Blaine kicked the door closed behind them and Kurt almost snapped at him not to because he didn't want to get yelled at for leaving dirty footprints on the door. He couldn't bring himself to do it though. Now that he was in his house, could see and smell his father's presence all around him, his didn't trust himself to speak. Five days. It was the first time he'd been home in the five days since his father's heart attack. His father would probably never get the chance to yell at him for such a trivial thing again–or for bring Blaine home, or befriending him or just anything.

He pulled the door to his basement bedroom open and clomped down the staircase with Blaine trotting behind him. Blaine plopped down on his bed as Kurt rummaged for a simple outfit to wear. He almost started striping off his dirty clothes but the way Blaine's dark eyes were trained on him from where he was reclined on the bed stopped him.

"No need to be so shy, baby. I've had your damn cock down my throat, don't you remember?"

Of course he remembered. The memory of it still set his skin on fire and made his toes curl in his shoes. He shucked his shirt and jacket into his laundry basket, kicked his shoes off and tossed his socks in as well. Then he headed into his private bathroom with Blaine's amused voice echoing after him.

"Tease!"

Kurt showered quickly, did a fast run through on his facial moisturizing routine, and then spent another fifteen minutes coiffing his hair just right. It was only when he had finished everything that he stopped long enough to see the new little bite marks all over his neck. There was no way a scarf would be able to cover all of that. He dug through his cabinet for his concealing lotion and smeared it all over his neck before rushing back into his room.

Or at least he tried to–Blaine was leaning against the wall next to the doorway and blocked his exit when he appeared.

"Blaine, move. We're going to be late–"

Blaine's eyes were spanning the column of his neck, and there was a hint of disapproval and anger there that Kurt didn't quite understand. He grabbed Kurt by the hips, pinning them together. His eyes were dark with a dozen different emotions that Kurt could barely grasp before they settled on possession–he wasn't happy with Kurt's cover up.

"I marked you up for a reason, Hummel." he dragged a finger through the make-up, smudging it and uncovering part of the biggest hickey, "And it wasn't so you could test out your make-up."

"Then w-w-why did you?" Kurt gasped as Blaine sucked at the newly revealed mark and pressed him back into the wall. God, he hoped that concealing lotion wasn't toxic.

"I want everyone to know. To see you wear these proudly, shamelessly." he whispered against Kurt's skin, scraping his teeth over the marks and quickly soothing his tongue over the sharp prick of pain, "I want them to see and know that it was my lips that put that there." He kissed the spot softly and traced his hand down to Kurt's hip, pressing into the bruise he'd left there, "And this one is for you. So you remember that you're mine and nobody else's. And when you touch yourself and think about me at night, you'll run your fingers over it and remember how good it felt to have my tongue there–"Kurt whimpered as Blaine's lips cupped his chin. "How much you want my mouth to explore every part of you."

He shuddered as Blaine's thumb pressed hard into the bruise and came to a quick decision. They were going to be so very late today–if they even made it to school at all.

He pulled Blaine's lips up to his in a hard, searing kiss. As Blaine's hands reached up and grabbed his face he sighed against his lips, letting Blaine's tongue slip into his mouth. He was so content in Blaine's arms no matter what was going on around him–including the soft footsteps echoing down the stairs.

"Kurt, are you here?...Kurt! Oh thank god! I've been so–"

Him and Blaine broke apart and away from the wall, but Blaine's hands slid down to his back, keeping him firmly pressed against him as he rubbed soft circles into his lower back. Carole had stopped on the last step, her jaw dangling around her knees as she stared at them.

"...um, worried." she finished lamely, stepping fully into the room, her cheeks tinged pink. She was staring at where their bodies were pressed together still looking thoroughly surprised by Blaine's presence. Embarrassed Kurt pulled out of Blaine's embrace and hugged himself. He'd completely forgotten to call Carole and tell her he wasn't staying at her house last night. Or that he wasn't going to the hospital or just to tell her anything.

"Carole, I'm so sorry. I just...last night I couldn't stand to go back and sit there and I just–we were working on our project at Blaine's and just–"

Carole was at his side in a second, taking him gently by the shoulders and making him look at her, "It's okay, sweetheart. I know how hard all of this is on you. Just, please call me next time you aren't coming to my house. Tell me where you are and who you're with."

Her eyes fell on a spot behind his shoulder–Blaine. For just having his tongue down the boy's throat he'd completely forgotten he was still in the room. Carole looked at him expectantly, and just by the little smile he saw in her eyes he relaxed. He turned around and tugged a very resistant Blaine forward by the arm.

"Carole, this is Blaine. He's–" he paused, not entirely sure where they stood anymore. Blaine wanted to claim him as his alone it seemed but he couldn't even admit to liking him. God, he didn't know anymore. "We're–"

"We're fuck buddies."

"Oh my god. We are not." Kurt insisted crossly, face burning at the way Carole was mouthing at them wordlessly.

"Really?" Blaine said slyly, nudging him with his shoulder, "Do you have a better explanation for why my stomach's still digesting your semen?"

The asshole was back. Kurt glared at him furiously, but couldn't bring himself to refute that statement because it was fucking true. He missed the simplicity of Blaine's moments of sweetness already. But there was still a comforting reassurance in knowing that Blaine was still Blaine. He hadn't completely changed, or maybe changed at all. Perhaps the softness had always been there and it had taken Kurt's presence to unbury it. At least until they weren't alone.

"Blaine, that's a very rude thing to say." Carole told him, falling into mom mode, and shooting Kurt a questioning look.

The cocky grin was almost wolf-like as he traced his eyes over Kurt. "We did a lot of rude things last night that had him screaming."

He was so infuriating. It's was like he couldn't make up his mind if he wanted to hold onto Kurt or shove him away forever. Kurt would have loved nothing more than to yank his lip over his swollen head and hope he choked on himself. But it was way too early for him to try and figure out the physics behind such a feat, so he settled for angrily stalking off up the stairs, ignoring Carole's plea for him to stop.

His feet had barely reached the landing when a hand slide into his, spinning him around and pressing him close to a warm, hard body.

"Get off, Blaine." he snarled.

As usual Blaine didn't listen. He held him close, tilting their foreheads together, his hands resting on Kurt's hips. His breath was shaky as if he'd just vaulted up the stairs after Kurt. His anger flickered away just a little bit at the thought.

"I'm–shit, look I–I'm sorry, all right?" Blaine's hands slid up his sides and neck, cupping his jaw as his thumbs brushed against Kurt's cheeks. The gesture was incredibly intimate for Blaine and he really wished it would happen more. It also didn't escape his notice how much easier that apology had been–or that it had only happened when they were alone.

"Why do you have to say such stupid things?" Kurt said in frustration, "Don't you know how that...how it makes me feel?"

"I...fuck, I don't know. I just do." Blaine grumbled, stroking his fingers through the hair at the base of Kurt's neck. But Kurt knew he was lying, could feel it in the way he shifted against him restlessly. Blaine knew exactly why he said such crude things. Only he didn't trust Kurt enough to tell him–he didn't seem to trust anyone completely. Kurt couldn't really blame him from the little he did know about Blaine. Why was it every time he learned more about Blaine he felt like he'd never learned anything at all? He'd uncover one secret and realize there were a hundred more attached to it.

"I wish you wouldn't do that just because we aren't alone." Kurt said quietly.

He hated how easily Blaine had gotten to him with one simple, idiotic comment. God, he was going to drown in this boy if he kept this going. He was already raising his chin up towards the sky to put it off just a little bit longer; to feel that golden sunlight warm his face for another moment before he sunk beneath the surface. He'd told himself he'd need patience to get through all the barriers and shields Blaine had erected, but whether or not he had the strength to survive it was something he wasn't ready to find out.

"I'd say I won't, but I don't think that's a promise I can keep." Blaine whispered against his lips and Kurt melted against them despite his reservations. His lips moved softly against his own, just a light, moist pressure as if a butterfly's wing was fluttering against them. And he knew. Blaine was so worth the effort and the pain as long as he always felt this way when they were together.

A throat was cleared sharply behind them and Kurt jumped away from Blaine, spinning around to find Carole watching them again.

"You boys are going to be late for school if you don't hurry." she said simply, and there was a smile in her eyes as she watched them interact. Kurt found himself smiling as well as Blaine brushed a stray hair off of his forehead. He shuffled off towards the hall and scooped up his bag, Blaine and Carole following behind him.

They'd almost made it out the door when Carole stopped them.

"One more thing," she said catching Blaine by the elbow. He jerked away from her grasp looking astonished that she actually touched him.

"Blaine I want your address and phone number for whenever Kurt's at your house again."

Blaine simply raised his eyebrows, still looking shocked at the gentle hand that was back on his elbow. When he didn't answer, Kurt spoke up.

"317 Thomas Street, apartment 5C." But he stopped after that. He didn't think Blaine had a phone or any other way to get in contact with him than to physically go to his place.

Carole typed it into her phone and said, "And the phone number?"

"Don't have one." Blaine told her simply. Shifting his bag around on his shoulder and pulling the front door open.

Carole looked both confused and amazement at his words. "You don't–but surely your parents need one–"

She'd said the magic word, Kurt knew. Blaine flinched at his side and when he spoke his voice could have cut a diamond.

"I don't have those either."

Kurt shot her an apologetic look as Blaine strutted out of the house, and promised to explain just everything better later.

The ride to McKinley was silent. Part of him was surprised that Blaine had actually admitted such a thing to Carole. He'd didn't entirely understand why he'd done that. He probably never would have told Kurt if he hadn't asked him directly. Was he trying to scare Carole off? Because Kurt knew how Carole was, and once they sat down at the hospital this afternoon and he explained everything she'd probably be over at Blaine's apartment everyday with a pot of stew, a bag of Finn's old clothes and try to squeeze him to death.

He really couldn't see Blaine just doing a roundabout and falling into her arms weeping. There wasn't even a plausible scenario of that happening with him, and he was almost one hundred percent positive that if anyone would get pass all of Blaine's barriers it was going to be him.That nobody else had even caught a glimpse of all the possibilities in Blaine's heart.

School went by almost too fast for him that day. He barely remembered sitting down in English before he was speeding through a French lecture and dodging sticky spitballs from Azimio. Time whipped ahead of him again and he was tinkering through a chemistry lab assignment while across the room Blaine "accidentally" set some jock's lab coat on fire. It was one of Karofsky's group Kurt knew and just the fact that Blaine was giving them a taste of their own shit brightened his day just a bit.

He didn't hang around to see anyone after the final bell. As much as he'd dreaded going to the hospital yesterday he hated that he'd been apart from his father for so long. It was one of the most bizarre feelings he'd ever had. As soon as he pulled into the visitor's lot he just wanted to pull right now out on to the highway and leave. Carole was just finishing her shift when he got there and they spent the better part of the next three hours curled up on the little cot that was now a permanent fixture in his father's room.

And he just unloaded everything on her. He told her that Blaine lived alone and that his parents were dead. That he thought Blaine's grandfather was helping pay for the little apartment that was more like a motel room and that even if he wanted to he didn't think he could stop hanging around Blaine. There was a sweet, caring boy tucked away under all the heartless words and callus, crude suggestions. A boy nobody else had stuck around long enough to see that was in desperate need of someone to just be there.

And Kurt was more determined than ever to be there for as long as Blaine wanted or needed him. Until he'd unraveled all of the mysteries and had Blaine laid bare before him, with his heart finally opened and ready to accept his own.

He would stick it out and wait even if it meant waiting forever. Because forever with Blaine still wouldn't be long enough.