The first one was fine. Sweet, even. Just a simple, You’re so hot. My house? 

But Kurt had been stricken with a sudden sense of preemptive nostalgia, and really didn’t want to miss Glee. But he also didn’t want Blaine’s efforts to go unrewarded, of course. And the few half-hearted scheduled make-out sessions they’d had really weren’t enough. At all. So he’d followed Blaine to his house and pushed him onto the bed and proceeded to cover every inch of Blaine’s skin with his mouth and his love and his promises of forever. 

The second one was...cute. Look, Kurt appreciated the effort and he did realize that Blaine was shaken and scared and sort of covering all his bases now. They’d recommitted themselves to being honest and open and actually communicating with each other. Which was great. Wonderful, even. Blaine was opening up to him more and more. Kurt feels so grateful and humbled that Blaine still trusts him with his fragile heart. That they are closer than ever now.

Kurt, too, has been able to admit that he’s terrified sometimes and that there are moments that just he wants to forget New York, and spend the rest of his life in the family room holding Blaine’s hand while trying to explain smizing to his dad as Burt rolls his eyes and changes the channel back and forth from ESPN to an America’s Next Top Model marathon. It’s just... the sweet texts are one thing.

 My pillow still smells like you. I’m never washing it. 

Then

Now I realize that you will be taking me to New York with you. You’ll be taking my heart. 

That one he’d taken a screen shot of and saved to his computer. But then, Blaine had apparently gotten it into his head that Kurt wanted something...more. And it wasn’t that he was opposed to sexting, per say. It was a little crass, but Kurt supposed they’d have to get used to unconventional ways of expressing their affection when they were apart anyway. He was almost looking forward to Skype sex. Almost. So that wasn’t the problem. The problem was, Blaine wasn't very good at sexting. To be more specific, he was very bad at it. 

That shirt is really becoming on you

Thank you

Of course, if I were on you, I’d be coming too

Kurt had blinked at his phone for a minute. Did that say - Yep. It did. He’d looked across the table at Blaine quickly, they weren’t supposed to text during Friday Night Dinner, and god forbid his dad demand that he hand his phone over and read that particular gem. But Blaine had been looking back at him with his big doe eyes all hopeful and nervous so of course Kurt had flashed him a smile. And when they’d escaped to his room under the guise of needing to finishing up homework, Kurt just had to kiss him and things had quickly spiraled from there.  They’d frantically rutted against Kurt’s door until they were both sated and spent and Blaine had mumbled over and over how much he loved Kurt. How much he wanted him. How he would always, always want him. So Kurt had decided to let the texting go. For now.

Then they’d gone to the mall that weekend. So, ok, the peach shoe polish had been brought up in the fight, and Kurt didn’t want to open old wounds or anything, but he really actually needed some and it was incredibly hard to find, ok? So he’d smoothed his hands up and down Blaine’s thighs, smiled sweetly and just come right out and asked if they could go look. Luckily, Blaine just smiled and kissed him quickly and assured him that it really wasn’t about the stupid shoe polish. Kurt had been so relieved that he didn’t even call Blaine on his shoe polish blasphemy. See? He was evolving.

Polish found, they’d wandered the mall, talking and laughing like they used to and it was so, so great. Then Kurt had gone to get them both fruit smoothies from the kiosk at the food court while Blaine took a bathroom break. When Kurt had finished paying and set off to find a table, his phone had suddenly buzzed. He’d shifted Blaine’s tropical blast to the crook of his elbow, the cold stinging his skin, and fumbled to check it.

Hey baby, wanna ride my escalator?

And that...didn’t even make sense. He got what Blaine was going for, he wasn’t dumb. But. Escalators weren’t particularly phallic. And riding an escalator was generally a short and fairly unexciting prospect. The innuendo wasn’t great. Brutal honesty, Kurt had remembered with a sigh. It was important. 

But then Blaine sauntered over, eyes low and lips moist and hell, Kurt’s not made of stone, ok? So the words had died in his throat and they’d hustled out of the mall, smoothies abandoned on a table littered with shreds of lettuce and Subway wrappers, and proceeded to break five different traffic laws to get to Blaine’s mercifully empty house. Kurt had felt justified in not yet telling Blaine to stop with the texts, and instead, when they were wrapped up together naked and sticky and panting,  had murmured that riding Blaine was a million times better than any trip up the mall escalator.

Why don’t you sit on my lap and we’ll see what pops up?

That one had been at school. During Glee. Sam saw it. Sam saw it and high-fived Blaine; who blushed furiously but did, in fact, high-five him back. And Kurt couldn’t decide if he wanted to shrivel up and die, or strangle Blaine first, or strangle Sam first; and he started to send Blaine a glare, but then Blaine had ducked his head and peeked up at Kurt from under his eyelashes and god damn him, why did he have to be so endearingly adorable and ridiculously sexy all at the same time.

That time they hadn’t even made it out of the school. Kurt had led him to one of the dressing rooms in the auditorium after practice, and he'd had every intention of telling Blaine how wonderful yet woefully misguided the texts were, but he’d been cut off by Blaine surging forward and licking into his mouth right off the bat, all hot and frantic and oh god, already hard up against Kurt’s hip. Then Blaine had dropped to his knees and Kurt completely forgot what he was going to say. He may have briefly forgotten his name as well. 

They’re were at Breadstix when Kurt finally said something. Their relationship had been better than ever and Kurt alternated between feeling like the happiest guy on Earth, and being blindsided by how much he was going to miss having Blaine across from him at the corner booth with the ripped left seat, eating stale breadsticks and flat sodas and talking about anything and everything while Blaine smiled at him like Kurt was something precious and amazing. He loved Blaine so much it physically ached sometimes. 

The waitress had just stopped by the table to check on them, and Kurt had not snapped his fingers once, thank you. Kurt had, very politely, ordered a slice of cheesecake for them to share while Blaine had been tapping away at his phone.

My hands are cold

Kurt raised an eyebrow first at his phone, and then at Blaine, who was looking steadfastly down at the screen of his phone. Kurt sighed quietly and tried to play along.

ok...

Blaine had grinned in a way that Kurt did not like at all, come to think of it, then bit his lush bottom lip. He did maybe like that part, though.

Can I warm them up in your pants?

Kurt suspected Blaine’s dubious googling skills were to blame here. He must have somehow stumbled onto www.pickuplinesfordouches.com because this was just getting ridiculous. Kurt reached over and took Blaine’s hands in his and tried for his very best gazing-lovingly-into-your-eyes-look-how-much-I-love-you face and took a fortifying breath.

“Blaine. Honey. I love you so, so much.” Blaine smiled and went all doe-eyed and Kurt struggled to focus. No. He was saying something, stop getting lost in his eyes, oh they looked almost gold in the fake candlelight. Stop it. “And I appreciate that you’re willing to do anything to make me happy. And you do. You make me so happy, Blaine.”

Blaine’s face fell, just a bit. “But...” 

 “But. The sexting. It needs to stop.”

Blaine looked stunned. “I thought you liked them? You’ve been all over me the last couple of weeks.”

“Blaine, I’ve been all over you because you make me crazy and I can barely keep my hands off of you, like all the time. I don’t need you to sext me because you so much as bat your eyelashes and I’m practically salivating. I’m surprised my eyes don’t bug out like a lascivious cartoon wolf whenever you’re in the room!”

 Blaine’s mouth was dropped open. Kurt brought his hands back to the table gently from where he’d been apparently flinging them about with wild abandon during his little outburst. Crap. He’d just said that all out loud hadn’t he? 

“I mean, uh. It’s very sweet, but entirely unnecessary?” 

Blaine covered his shocked mouth with his hand. Then squeezed his eyes shut. Kurt was just starting to panic when Blaine snorted.

“Kurt,” he laughed. “Oh my god.” Kurt couldn’t help but join in, and the entire restaurant probably though they were lunatics, but oh who the hell cared anyway? 

“Sorry,” Kurt said shakily, once they’d managed to get a hold of themselves. The waitress dropped off their cheesecake with a look of concern, but Kurt just thanked her and smiled innocently. Blaine took a bite of cheesecake and hummed happily. 

“I kind of hated it,” he said.

“Well that’s good because you were kind of terrible at it.” 

Blaine gasped and clutched a hand to his chest. “That hurts, it really does.”

“Uh-huh,” Kurt said around a mouthful of cake.

“It’s harder than it looks, you know.”

“I disagree. Terrible pick-up lines are the lifeblood of drunken fratboys everywhere. If they can manage it, I’m sure someone with an actual brain - instead of a hodgepodge of beer and sports terms and boob jokes - could probably come up with a few.” 

Blaine rolled his eyes, then picked up the last bite of cheesecake and held it to Kurt’s lips with a grin. Kurt winked and took it slowly into his mouth, then pursed his lips in thought as he he chewed. 

It was Blaine’s turn to pay, so Kurt took the opportunity to pull his phone out under the table and type as Blaine set out his card then scribbled out the tip amount. He was such a generous tipper. Kurt gave him a hard time about it, just a little, but he secretly loved it. Just another way Blaine was always so kind and thoughtful. God, Kurt was going to miss him so much. 

Hey baby you look so sweet I wanna lick you until I find your creamy center.

Kurt waited for Blaine to laugh or roll his eyes again, but he didn’t respond at all, just shoved the receipt in his pocket and clambered up from the booth, grabbing Kurt’s arm and nearly running for the door. Once they were outside he turned around and gave Kurt a heated look that sent tingles down his spine and bursts of electricity flashing through his veins.

“My house. Now,” Blaine growled, and flung himself into the car. 

As they sped away, with a squeal of tires that made Kurt wince, he had a change of heart. The sexting could stay after all.