MyNameisG
Jan. 29, 2012, 11:21 a.m.
Making It
Kurt and Blaine only need one day to realize the strength of their relationship.
K - Words: 917 - Last Updated: Jan 29, 2012 744 0 0 2 Categories: Romance, Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel,
Author's Notes: I wrote and posted this forever ago on the Kurt/Blaine comm on LJ, but I figured I would post it here, too. :)
The first time Blaine took a slushie to the face, Kurt had to fight the overwhelming compulsion to march to the nearest convenience store and immediately burn it to the ground.
He blamed the store owners for making the ridiculously popular drink so easily accessible. He scorned the other members of New Directions for not being psychic and instinctively knowing the exact time Blaine was setting foot in the building that morning so as to protect him from being assailed. He didn’t have words that could accurately describe how he felt towards the perpetrators because without him even processing what they’d actually done, his blood pressure would climb towards its boiling point and his vision would cloud out into reds and blacks that flashed in angry hues.
But mostly, and most shamefully, he blamed himself for being a total useless idiot, because he was standing there in the hallway, stupidly smiling back at his beautiful boyfriend bright and early in the morning when the two football jocks approached Blaine from behind his back and unceremoniously tossed the icy beverage into Blaine’s sweetly innocent and unsuspecting face.
Blaine had heard the stories from Kurt, but he hadn’t been prepared to take it on at eight in the morning that day, on his first day at McKinley. He didn’t know how they – the bullies who had once taunted Kurt daily – knew he was even attending McKinley now, but he’d figured it would only be a matter of time until he was grouped into the outcast bunch of kids at school, and treated thusly. As they’d sauntered off down the hall, the two jocks had made it clear that Blaine was just as lame and loser-like now as the rest of the New Directions freaks.
When he said the words, “Better to get it over with,” in a manner that conveyed acceptance to Kurt, he merely rolled his eyes in response and tugged Blaine into the nearest boys’ bathroom. There Blaine stood patiently and let his boyfriend mop his sticky face off with a wet paper towel. Blaine couldn’t see Kurt’s face very well through the burning sting of ice and artificial flavorings, but the string of rather colorful metaphors regarding the two bullies that streamed from Kurt’s mouth made him keenly aware of how Kurt was feeling. After a time, the expletives died down, and Kurt’s voice drifted from anger to a tone that quite resembled defeat, or more likely, guilt. Blaine wanted to reach out and take his boyfriend’s hand, but his eyes were still watering profusely, and Kurt gently soaked up each tear that ran down Blaine’s cheeks with his paper towel until finally Blaine’s face was dry. Before they left the bathroom, however, Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand and offered him a hopeful smile.
Kurt’s sad blue eyes looked back at him, and reluctantly, they parted ways for class.
*
After school that day, Blaine and Kurt walked to Kurt’s house to get started on homework. It had been a rough six months with Blaine still at Dalton and Kurt back at McKinley, so now that the two were reunited during their days, they spent most of them together. Blaine often ate dinner at the Hummel residence, and Kurt often kept his hand planted on Blaine’s knee under the table while the two exchanged miniscule knowing smiles amid oblivious family conversation.
But Kurt had been quiet and somewhat aloof during the day, and he was quieter still after dinner, as he sat across from Blaine on his bed, his notebook open in his lap. After a few moments of silence, Blaine pushed his books to the floor and reached for Kurt, who looked up from his notes in surprise. Blaine pulled Kurt toward himself while simultaneously leaning back against Kurt’s pillows, and Kurt came to rest against his side, cheek leaning against Blaine’s shoulder.
They lay for a few minutes, neither one talking. Then Blaine looked down at Kurt, and with one small dip of his chin, he captured Kurt’s lips gently with his own.
They kissed leisurely, starting small and building each kiss bigger, stronger, longer. Kisses trailed across lips and cheeks, swept over chins and noses, and crept down throats and up to ears. Kurt’s hand curled into Blaine’s hair, and Blaine clamped Kurt to his side. They breathed heavily and drank each other in. By the time the boys broke apart, Kurt had five different slushie flavors lingering lightly in his mouth, all a by-product of the single attack on Blaine, the remnants of which had not been fully washed away.
Blaine held Kurt close to him and Kurt tightened his grip on Blaine. After a moment, Blaine whispered, “If this is what it means to be a loser…” He pointedly glanced down at the two of them, where their bodies lay entwined down the length of the bed. Kurt’s right knee was hooked over Blaine’s right thigh, his arm wrapped firmly across Blaine’s torso, and the heat was holding steady between their bodies. “Then I don’t want it any other way.”
And Kurt smiled at him, a genuine grin stretching his lovely mouth. His blue eyes sparkled in the setting sunlight coming in from the bedroom windows, and he laughed lightheartedly into Blaine’s shirt.
From that day on, Kurt and Blaine knew they were going to make it. No matter how many slushies were thrown in their faces, no one could take them away from each other. No one could tell them how to live, and no one could tell them how to love.
He blamed the store owners for making the ridiculously popular drink so easily accessible. He scorned the other members of New Directions for not being psychic and instinctively knowing the exact time Blaine was setting foot in the building that morning so as to protect him from being assailed. He didn’t have words that could accurately describe how he felt towards the perpetrators because without him even processing what they’d actually done, his blood pressure would climb towards its boiling point and his vision would cloud out into reds and blacks that flashed in angry hues.
But mostly, and most shamefully, he blamed himself for being a total useless idiot, because he was standing there in the hallway, stupidly smiling back at his beautiful boyfriend bright and early in the morning when the two football jocks approached Blaine from behind his back and unceremoniously tossed the icy beverage into Blaine’s sweetly innocent and unsuspecting face.
Blaine had heard the stories from Kurt, but he hadn’t been prepared to take it on at eight in the morning that day, on his first day at McKinley. He didn’t know how they – the bullies who had once taunted Kurt daily – knew he was even attending McKinley now, but he’d figured it would only be a matter of time until he was grouped into the outcast bunch of kids at school, and treated thusly. As they’d sauntered off down the hall, the two jocks had made it clear that Blaine was just as lame and loser-like now as the rest of the New Directions freaks.
When he said the words, “Better to get it over with,” in a manner that conveyed acceptance to Kurt, he merely rolled his eyes in response and tugged Blaine into the nearest boys’ bathroom. There Blaine stood patiently and let his boyfriend mop his sticky face off with a wet paper towel. Blaine couldn’t see Kurt’s face very well through the burning sting of ice and artificial flavorings, but the string of rather colorful metaphors regarding the two bullies that streamed from Kurt’s mouth made him keenly aware of how Kurt was feeling. After a time, the expletives died down, and Kurt’s voice drifted from anger to a tone that quite resembled defeat, or more likely, guilt. Blaine wanted to reach out and take his boyfriend’s hand, but his eyes were still watering profusely, and Kurt gently soaked up each tear that ran down Blaine’s cheeks with his paper towel until finally Blaine’s face was dry. Before they left the bathroom, however, Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand and offered him a hopeful smile.
Kurt’s sad blue eyes looked back at him, and reluctantly, they parted ways for class.
*
After school that day, Blaine and Kurt walked to Kurt’s house to get started on homework. It had been a rough six months with Blaine still at Dalton and Kurt back at McKinley, so now that the two were reunited during their days, they spent most of them together. Blaine often ate dinner at the Hummel residence, and Kurt often kept his hand planted on Blaine’s knee under the table while the two exchanged miniscule knowing smiles amid oblivious family conversation.
But Kurt had been quiet and somewhat aloof during the day, and he was quieter still after dinner, as he sat across from Blaine on his bed, his notebook open in his lap. After a few moments of silence, Blaine pushed his books to the floor and reached for Kurt, who looked up from his notes in surprise. Blaine pulled Kurt toward himself while simultaneously leaning back against Kurt’s pillows, and Kurt came to rest against his side, cheek leaning against Blaine’s shoulder.
They lay for a few minutes, neither one talking. Then Blaine looked down at Kurt, and with one small dip of his chin, he captured Kurt’s lips gently with his own.
They kissed leisurely, starting small and building each kiss bigger, stronger, longer. Kisses trailed across lips and cheeks, swept over chins and noses, and crept down throats and up to ears. Kurt’s hand curled into Blaine’s hair, and Blaine clamped Kurt to his side. They breathed heavily and drank each other in. By the time the boys broke apart, Kurt had five different slushie flavors lingering lightly in his mouth, all a by-product of the single attack on Blaine, the remnants of which had not been fully washed away.
Blaine held Kurt close to him and Kurt tightened his grip on Blaine. After a moment, Blaine whispered, “If this is what it means to be a loser…” He pointedly glanced down at the two of them, where their bodies lay entwined down the length of the bed. Kurt’s right knee was hooked over Blaine’s right thigh, his arm wrapped firmly across Blaine’s torso, and the heat was holding steady between their bodies. “Then I don’t want it any other way.”
And Kurt smiled at him, a genuine grin stretching his lovely mouth. His blue eyes sparkled in the setting sunlight coming in from the bedroom windows, and he laughed lightheartedly into Blaine’s shirt.
From that day on, Kurt and Blaine knew they were going to make it. No matter how many slushies were thrown in their faces, no one could take them away from each other. No one could tell them how to live, and no one could tell them how to love.