***

December 30


Kurt is running.

Wel, he isn’t running per se, but he is trying to escape the stench of cat pee and gardenias that surrounds the old lady who he has been sitting next to for the past five and a half hours. He has grown a little tired of her tales about the amazing grandchildren she is about to visit in some town Kurt couldn’t remember if his life depended on it.
He’d tuned out of the conversation around the time they were crossing the Mississippi. Honestly, could this train move any slower?

Kurt sighs, pausing to catch his breath and reminding himself that this is all worth... something. From Chicago, through the great plains of Nebraska, to Denver and the Rockies, and further on through endless miles of the Sierra Nevada, until he’d reach Emeryville, where he’d hop onto a bus for another hour and finally arrive in San Francisco where he — Well, Kurt isn’t sure what San Francisco is going to be like or why he is even going there, to be totally honest, but the truth hurts, and he’d rather not think about that right now.

At this point, he thinks the trip is supposed to soothe his soul and help him start the new year fresh and relaxed, but it’s currently doing terrible things to his already low spirits. Old Pee seemed nice enough, but really, Kurt is not in the state of mind to endure that kind of chit-chat for the next forty-odd hours. He wonders how much they’ll let him linger in the dining car, seeing as he, a coach traveler, will have to wait until the very end of dinner to be seated, if at all.

He’s passing families with screaming children, more old ladies chatting across the aisles, groups of college kids laughing too loud for comfort, and then there are the skiers and their stupid equipment blocking most pathways. Kurt has hit his head twice already on his quest to find the dining car, and really, regardless oh how romantic it’d seemed when he’d booked toe ticket, what made him think that traveling by train shortly before New Year’s Eve would be a great idea? He’s mentally kicking his past self’s butt.

Right now, all Kurt wants is a warm bowl of soup and maybe some chamomile tea to calm him down. When he gets to the dining car, though, a long line of people waiting to be seated greets him, just as he’d thought. Kurt sighs and swallows the expletives dancing on his tongue as a young woman, whose nametag reads ‘Sally’, turns her attention towards him.

“Good evening, sir. I’m afraid all seats are taken at the moment. Would you like to wait over here?”

Sir. Kurt reckons he doesn’t have more than two years on Sally the Waitress, but he concentrates on the important things for now: his nervous, empty stomach.

“I guess?”

“It won’t be long, there’s always - actually,” her gaze follows a man leaving the dining car. “This might be your lucky day. Please, follow me, Sir.”

***

“You may.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt realizes he’s been standing in front of his assigned table undecided for a few seconds now.

“Contrary to what me sitting all by myself might suggest, I don’t bite, y’know?”

“...What?”

“You... may sit down. The view is spectacular from here, I can barely concentrate on my dinner.” He sighs. “Don’t you think it’s just magnificent?”

“Is this the Twilight Zone?”

“No, but if you started to sparkle this could be Twilight.” The lift in the man’s voice at the end suggests a question more than a statement.

Kurt, who is almost seated, shoots a nervous glance at Sally, but she’s already off again to take care of new arrivals.

“Was that too much? It was too much, wasn’t it?” The man scrunches up his nose in frustration. “Hi, I’m Blaine and I’ve had too much coffee. Excellent coffee. But maybe too much. And now I’ve said ‘too much’ too much. Do you want my cookie?”

“Your... cookie?”

“Well, they give you a cookie with each coffee and-”

Another waitress, who shuffles over to take Kurt’s order and bring him a fresh glass of water, interrupts Kurt’s unexpected dining partner. Kurt takes a sip, sets the glass on the table and finally calms down enough to look at the young man sitting across from him — really look at him. More like stare. Oh god, he’s staring at the lunatic who wouldn’t shut up a minute earlier, and now he feels like a lunatic himself because he can’t seem to remember appropriate words to say. Soft curls, rough edges, and boyish charm have taken him completely off guard.

The man — Bale, Bane, no, that was the guy from Batman — looks at him in confusion. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“...No. Sorry.” Kurt clears his throat. “What did you say your name was?”

“Blaine. I’m Blaine.” He extends his hand and Kurt shakes it.

“Kurt.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kurt.” Blaine beams at him. “Now, if you’d like a recommendation, don’t go for the salad. It’s kind of dry.”

“What about the soup?”

“Not dry.”

***

Dinner is surprisingly pleasant — Kurt manages to get a word in between Blaine’s enthusiastic and admittedly interesting tales of life in New York. His heart still hurts a little at the lost opportunity, but he actually enjoys how vividly Blaine paints pictures of the city. He laughs at Blaine’s strange roommates stories and is a little jealous when Blaine tells him about the shows he’s already seen.

They discuss their favorite Broadway musicals, and debate the merits of their movie adaptations. It’s music next, then films, and finally fashion. Kurt has noted that Blaine’s sweater vest is definitely Brooks Brothers, and he can certainly appreciate a good bow tie.

They’ve just gotten to cardigans versus sweaters this winter when Kurt spots someone he’s been trying to forget about.

“Oh god please no,” he mutters under his breath before diving.

“Kurt... Kurt, what are you doing under the table?”

“Is she gone?”

“Is who gone?”

“Old Pee.”

“Is that a rap name? I don’t see any rappers. Are there rappers on this train? …Kurt?” Blaine crouches down to peek underneath the table. “Hi.”

“Oh my god.”

“What’s wrong?”

Kurt exhales. “Just someone I didn’t want to run into again for a while.”

“Would you like me to feed you down there?”

“...Are you always like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like... you’re high.”

Blaine sighs, sounding mock-offended. “I told you I was high on coffee. I’ve been very honest with you from the get go.”

“Well then, Blaine,” — and he likes how the name feels on his tongue —“tell me what’s the best dessert around here.”

“I actually haven’t had any yet.” Blaine smiles at him. “Maybe we could share some chocolate cake?”

***

They do share a piece of the cake — two forks — which also comes with vanilla icing and sprinkles. Blaine encourages Kurt to tell more about himself, and Kurt is surprised to find out that Blaine is really a really good listener.

They are shooed away from their table after a while because other people want to have dinner, too, so they start walking, neither willing to part from the other, in no particular direction, and wind up at the end of the train. They sit down on a two-seater so they can stare at the darkness and flurry of snowflakes trailing past the windows.

“So, what is it you actually do in New York?” Kurt wants to know — so far, it’s been a tale of parks and Broadway, but nothing too specific.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Oh, don’t play that game with me.”

“Come on, take a guess!” Blaine’s grin is cheeky, his chin propped up on his hand.

“You’re a Broadway kid.”

“I am.”

“So that’s it? You’re a performer?”

“Not even close — although sometimes it can feel like that.”

“Med student?”

Blaine blinks. “You went from performer to doctor? Good god, Kurt.”

Kurt huffs. “Just tell me.”

“One more guess.”

Kurt opens his mouth, then pauses, grinnng. “Stripper. You used to be a stripper, but you were so good at it that you earned a lot of money and bought your own club. Right now, you’re on your way to San Francisco to open a second one. It’s a whole brand, with t-shirts and mugs — Blaine-y-licious.”

“...You think I’d be a good stripper?”

“That’s what you’re taking from that?”

“That, and I think you’ve had enough sugar for now.”

“Are you talking about yourself or the chocolate cake?”

Blaine winks. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me.”

“...’know any better’?”

Blaine’s smile drops a notch, and he shakes his head. “Never mind. Okay, so... I’m not a stripper, but thanks for the consideration.” He puts his hand on his chest to show his gratitude. “I’m a law student. Environmental Law to be exact.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Of course.”

“What was that?”

“I don’t really know you, Dinner Companion Blaine, but you seem like the kind of guy who would take something as corrupted as law and turn it into something actually... noble. I’m... well, impressed.”

Blaine waves him off with one hand and turns to look outside for a moment, lost in thought.

“What about you, Kurt? What do you do?” He comes back from whatever place he’d just been to and smiles at Kurt, head tilted to the side. Now that Kurt knows that Blaine is so incredibly ambitious and wants to do good in the world, he feels a little shy at what he has to offer.

“Community College in Ohio.” Kurt looks at his hands folded in his lap. He takes a deep breath. “The dream was to go to New York after high school, become a star on Broadway. It... it didn’t work out.”

“Hey.” Blaine places a hand on Kurt’s arm, rubbing it softly. “I know a lot of people who did their undergrad at a community college and then came to New York. Your dream doesn’t have to feel dead yet.”

When Kurt looks up again, he’s met with Blaine’s smile and so much honesty in his eyes that his breath hitches. He grasps for something, anything, to change the subject.

“Okay, so, we’ve talked about me — now tell me where you got that divine cardigan you’re wearing.” Blaine leans back into the soft cushions of the sofa and their conversation picks up speed again.

***

When the lounge area is about to close down for the night and they’re kindly asked to leave once again they stand up to walk to the car that’s home to Kurt’s seat on the trip. He can practically see — and smell — Old Pee from where they’re standing.

They attempt to say good night five times, but they always lead into new things to talk about, and they’ve been standing there for over an hour when Blaine shuffles his feet.

“I should probably let you get back to your room.” Kurt knows his voice sounds strained, but he can’t find it in himself to hide it.

Something shifts in Blaine’s eyes. “You could — well, I don’t want to sound creepy, or— or— I don’t know. I— ” Blaine coughs a little. “There’s enough space for both of us in my room — would you like the second bed? I can sleep on top.” He freezes. “I mean, I can take the top bunk. You’d be perfectly comfortable in the lower one — It’s like a double bed.“ He looks at Kurt with eyes bright and wide. “I swear I don’t snore. And I won’t take advantage of you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.” He feels like his entire face is on fire.

“You are not imposing. You’d be doing me a favor in a way, really.” Blaine bows his head sheepishly. “I’d love the company.”

When he looks back up at Kurt, his eyes are full of sincerity and honesty. How could Kurt say no to this? “Sounds perfect,” he replies with what he hopes is a confident smile.

***

It’s well after midnight when they have finally settled in their beds — Blaine on the top bunk, Kurt on the bottom one, as promised. Kurt can’t believe his luck — this is infinitely better than desperately trying to fall asleep next to Old Pee and squirming children.

He draws the blanket tightly around himself and looks outside as the snow covered trees rush by. It’s better than counting sheep.

“Kurt?”

He isn’t even sure that Blaine actually said something which is why Kurt takes a moment to answer. “Yes?” It’s breathed more than said.

“What are you running from?”

Kurt hesitates. “What do you mean?” He is uncomfortable with the question. It’s too close to the truth, and he didn’t expect Blaine to pick up on it.

“It’s just something this old guy asked me at dinner before you came to sit with me.”

Kurt thinks that he can hear Blaine smile and tries to relax. “Oh?” he asks, hopes that it’s enough to make Blaine continue.

“Yeah. It’s apparently a common theme among train travelers? I don’t know.”

Kurt shifts. “Are you running from anything?”

Blaine takes a minute to think before answering. “Maybe.” His voice breaks a little on the second syllable.

He doesn’t elaborate, and Kurt doesn’t pry — just hums. “Mhm.”

He can hear Blaine’s breathing slow down, evolving into short little snores that remind Kurt of a puppy or a kitten and he can’t help but grin and press his face into the pillow. “Not a snorer, my ass,” he whispers to himself and snuggles deeper into his blanket.


***


December 31


They take their breakfast of croissants and coffee in the lounge car. The panorama ceiling allows them to see for miles; everything is covered in a blanket of snow. It’s almost too much, too beautiful. To Kurt it feels like something that has to be seen for oneself — it would just look fake in a picture or postcard.

They chat quietly, Blaine joking that Old Pee might crash the place any minute now, looking for her “rosy-cheeked angel.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me,” Kurt groans as he nudges his shoulder against Blaine’s. They smile and look down at their coffees.

It’s a slow morning. Snow glistens on treetops and the mountains, and, after yet anther long conversation at breakfast, they decide to go back to the room to watch a movie on Blaine’s laptop. They fall asleep again around the time Kate Winslet and Jim Carey’s characters make snow angels on the ice.

***

“We’ll soon be entering what we call the tunnel district here on the California Zephyr. We’ll be traveling through twenty-seven tunnels in thirty minutes.”

Blaine wakes with the conductor’s announcement and stirs next to Kurt. His head is still on Kurt’s shoulder, the DVD has gone into a loop ever since the movie ended, and the train is swaying gently.

Blaine carefully raises his head and takes the laptop from Kurt’s legs to shove it back into his backpack. With a sudden jolt of the train, Blaine tumbles off the sofa and hits his head on the bed. Kurt opens his eyes and tries not to smile at the flustered Blaine sprawled at his feet.

“Sorry,” Blaine mumbles, smiling apologetically as he climbs back up. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Kurt shakes his head, stretches his long arms and makes a little noise in the back of his throat, as he pushes his bangs back. “You didn’t. Well, not really. Where are we?”

Kurt hasn’t finished his question when darkness suddenly surrounds them, then vanishes, gone as fast as it came.

“The Tunnel District,” Blaine announces with the booming voice of a commentator. “We’ll be going through twenty-seven tunnels in thirty minutes, apparently.” He smiles up at Kurt. Darkness again, then light. “I— yeah, so I think we’ve just passed the first two. Wait” — darkness — “third one.”

Kurt smirks. “Are you sure it's the third?”

“I do know how to count, you know.”

“Just checking. … Four.”

“What?”

“We just passed number four- ah! Five!”

“Oh my god, are you the Count?”

The corners of Kurt’s mouth turn up before he breaks into song. “I count slowly, slowly, slowly getting faster.” The steady beat of the train on the tracks is his accompaniment. Blaine joins him after only a second, going until they can’t remember the words to the next verse.

They each collapse into one of the sofa’s corners when they stop singing, laughing. Blaine turns his head to look outside, eyes widening at the flurry of snow racing past their window. When he looks back at Kurt, his face is completely serious. “There’s a storm coming,” he says in a somber voice.

Kurt throws a pillow at him, laughing even harder. “Seriously, Blaine. Batman? Really?”

Blaine grins at him, raising an eyebrow. “Well, look who got the reference.”

They calm down eventually and settle in their respective corners, watching the mountains roll by.

***

There’s a whizzing noise, just as the train is about to roll into Fraser Winter Park, Colorado, and the voice of the conductor, tinny through the speakers, takes over. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to inform you that due to severe snow storms, we won’t be able to continue our journey at this point.”

Kurt turns to Blaine with a worried look on his face. “What does that mean?”

Blaine sighs. “I’m not sure. I read that sometimes people get stranded for days on this route because of—” He doesn’t continue when he sees Kurt’s panicked look on his face. “But you know, we shouldn’t worry before we know of any specifics.” Blaine takes Kurt’s hand in his, squeezing once, then jumps up from the bed. “Let me check with one of the crew members. I’ll be back. You just wait here, okay?”

As Kurt waits for him to get back to their compartment (Blaine’s compartment — don’t get attached), he looks out of the windows, trying to see where Blaine’s going.

He can see him trudging back to their car, and a few seconds later, he’s back in the room, shaking the snow off his coat.

“So?” Kurt looks up at him.

Blaine sighs and sits down next to Kurt, running his hands through his hair. “The train won’t move until tomorrow at the earliest. We should try and find a place to stay — they’re putting up a list of available rooms at the station building.” He grins. “Come on; we should hurry so we won’t have to share with Old Pee.”

“Blaine—”

“Kurt.”

“—stop reminding me of Old Pee.”

“But it’s such a good story!”

Kurt tries to hide his smile as he starts to fold yesterday’s clothes and put them in his suitcase. Blaine’s own beaming one warm on the back of his neck.

***

They find a spare room at an inn not far from the train station. It’s tiny, with only a twin bed, but they’ll manage. Blaine insists on paying, Kurt insists on splitting, and Blaine finds that when Kurt gives him that look, he’d better do as he’s told.

“Any sharp objects in your luggage?” Kurt asks him, trying for casual.

“Um... a razor? Why?”

“Just checking.”

“For what?”

Kurt hesitates. “Murder weapons.”

“Murder weapons?!”

“Murder weapons.”

“...Kurt?”

Kurt draws himself up another inch. “My father taught me to be careful.”

“Your father is a wise man — though we already spent a night together.” Kurt lifts his eyebrows, and Blaine starts to splutter. “I- I mean... Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, you’re alive, aren’t you?”

Kurt remembers Blaine’s little puppy snores from last night and decides to go with, “Barely.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he smiles and pats Blaine’s shoulder.

They haul their suitcases up the stairs and into their room, where they push them under the bed to avoid constantly stumbling over them. The bathroom is in the hallway.

“This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” Kurt sits down on the bed with a relieved sigh.

“Well, thank you.”

“No! No, I mean... I...”

“Yes?”

“Well, we could’ve ended up in a dumpster. Literally.”

“Two strangers, alone in the dark, stranded by the rail tracks, making caves out of snow, hunting for rats behind the-”

“You’re going overboard.”

“You’re going overboard.”

“I can’t believe they let you into law school.”

“I’ll have you know that my ‘Objection!’ is on par with the best of them.”

“Okay, okay, you may leave the stand now.”

Blaine sighs dreamily. “Mh, lawyer talk.”

“...Is that a turn on for you? Is that why you chose law?”

“Speak no more.” He puts up a hand to silence Kurt, but his seriousness is soon replaced by a playful smirk. “Come have lunch with me?”

***

They eat lunch at an overcrowded restaurant where they can barely hear each other over the roaring of the clearly drunk people around them. Blaine apologizes for it, but Kurt can only shake his head. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like you could have done anything about it.”

“No, but I would have liked something more... private?”

Kurt’s heartbeat picks up speed. “Is that so?”

“Hm, yeah. I enjoy your company, you know?” Blaine smiles down at his shoes, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

Kurt laughs. “Well, good thing, because judging from what we know, you won’t be able to escape my company any time soon.”

“I’m not complaining,” Blaine mumbles and Kurt is sure he’s only imagining the blush on Blaine’s cheeks.

***

They walk through the village, hands buried in the pockets of their coats. It’s freezing cold, though the storm has quieted down. They find the public library still open and rush inside to warm up a bit. There are only a few people there, so it isn’t hard for Blaine to snatch two comfy chairs for them in a corner looking out over the mountains. They push the chairs closer together so they can talk without bothering anyone, brushing shoulders when they sit down.

Kurt picks up the local newspaper from the table next to his chair and Blaine begins tapping through his phone, probably reading his e-mails. Kurt’s eyes flutter shut, exhausted by the cold, thinking Blaine won’t mind if he naps for a little while.

After what feels like only a couple of minutes, there’s a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake, and Blaine’s voice calling him softly. It’s already dark outside when he opens his eyes.

“Hey there.” Blaine smiles at him. “So, there’s this nice little restaurant five minutes away that’s supposed to be quiet and cozy and... I managed to get us a reservation for tonight? We could go watch the fireworks at Hideaway Park after. If you want, that is --” Blaine takes a deep breath, licks his lips.

“What...? Like a date?”

“Sure... If that’s... I mean...” Blaine clears his throat, and nods. “Yes, like a date.”

Kurt bites his bottom lip. “I need to go back to the inn to change.”

“Is that a yes?”

Kurt can’t stop his mouth from curling into a smile. “It’s on, Dinner Companion Blaine.”

“Anderson. Blaine Anderson.”

“I prefer Dinner Companion Blaine.”

Blaine smirks. “Alright, Old Pee Kurt.”

Kurt gasps. “Low blow, Anderson.”

“Ah, but see, it does have its merit.”

Kurt takes a deep breath. “Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine nods almost imperceptibly.

“What?”

“It suits you.” Blaine smiles.

Kurt shakes his head and chuckles. “Let’s go, you idiot.”

“Aw, a pet name already.”

***

They do quietly stand and watch the fireworks go off in the distance after dinner, all the pretty colors washing over the snow-covered mountains.

Hesitating at first, Blaine takes Kurt’s glove-covered hand, and Kurt looks down startled. Once his eyes settle on the sight, though, he likes how it makes him feel.

“Can I be honest one more time?” Blaine asks him softly, his voice a little shaky. He is so close, Kurt could easily just lean down and —

“Sure; it’s our theme,” Kurt tries to say jokingly, but, god, his racing heart is making this difficult.

Blaine takes a deep breath. “I’d like to kiss you. If that’s okay with you, of course. I mean—” he stops. “Did I just make this” — he gestures frantically between them — “awkward? Somehow? Oh god, I did, didn’t I?”

“Blaine.” Kurt takes off his gloves and cups Blaine’s face to stop him from taking a step back. “I’d like that, actually.”

He leans down a little and presses his lips to Blaine’s, soft and shy and barely there.

His eyes flutter shut when Blaine’s arms circle around his waist, and he buries his hands in Blaine’s hair, drawing him closer. When Blaine opens his mouth a little, Kurt can still taste the hot chocolate with rum on his tongue.

He makes a small noise in the back of his throat, almost a giggle, when he breaks the kiss — Blaine’s lips keep chasing his, ending in a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Kurt can’t hide the smirk, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest. He runs his hands down Blaine’s arms, giving his fingers a quick squeeze, before dropping them again.

Blaine’s smile is wide when he looks at him. “Let’s walk back?”

Kurt exhales happily. “Yes, sure.”

They don’t hold hands on their way back to the inn, though, and despite the glances he knows the two of them are sneaking at each other, Kurt feels like the space between them is growing while they’re moving next to each other on the icy sidewalks. There are drunk people everywhere, and they have to steer out of the way of uncoordinated idiots more than once.

Kurt becomes more worried by the minute. He isn’t sure whether it’s the crowds around them, or the fact that Blaine has gone mysteriously silent since their descent from watching the fireworks. He wonders if Blaine is regretting the kiss already, even though Blaine had smiled at him.

Kurt huffs out a breath when they take the stairs up to their room. Should he offer to sleep on the floor? Should he —

“Are you okay?” Blaine sounds concerned as he holds the door open for Kurt.

“Yes, I am.” Kurt walks inside and begins unbuttoning his coat.

“Great,” Blaine breathes, shutting the door behind them and tugging at Kurt’s hand, effectively pulling him back into his arms. “I just wanted to do this again,” he hums and leans up a little to kiss Kurt.

***

It’s shy laughter and blushing when they part to get ready for bed. Kurt sits on the bed, waiting for Blaine to come back to their room. Their room. It’s one thing to share a train compartment with someone you just met, a whole other to sleep next to them on a twin-bed. Sure, Blaine isn’t a stranger anymore, and something’s happened between them, but—

Kurt lets out a long breath. He feels silly for being this nervous. If anything, Blaine has been the perfect gentleman from the moment they met. He makes him feel... comfortable.

And still — this is new. There’s a nervous thrill running through his body, and he can barely look at Blaine when they slide between the sheets and turn toward each other.

“Goodnight, Dinner Companion Blaine.”

“Goodnight, Kurt Hummel.”


***


January 1


The new year begins for Kurt with his face buried in soft curls, his arm slung across Blaine’s waist. He breathes in deeply, his senses filling with BlaineBlaineBlaine and he draws the man in his arms as close as he can. He can’t say he’s quite conscious yet when he starts pressing gentle kisses to the back of Blaine’s neck.

Soon enough, Blaine stirs in his arms, turns around slowly, making Kurt aware of what he’s been doing.

“Hi,” Kurt breathes.

Blaine smiles. “Hi.” He scrunches his nose and brings up his hand to rub it, but Kurt takes it into his own instead, interlacing their fingers.

“You’re still here.” Blaine murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

Kurt nods against his shoulder. “I’m still here.” He wants to look away, wants to get some room between them, this is too close, too much, too hard to breathe—

But Blaine’s eyes are keeping him right there, anchoring him. Blaine whispers his name - barely audible, so easy to miss - and instead of keeping him away, he draws Kurt closer with the intimacy of it.

Before he has time to process anything, Blaine’s lips are on his and he’s pushing closer, feeling Blaine’s hand running through the hairs at his neck and settling there. It’s urgent, it’s not perfect, but Kurt revels in the realness of it.

He deepens the kiss as their legs tangle under the sheets. Blaine’s tongue is licking at Kurt’s lips, parting them gently, and, oh, that feels good, really good. Kurt’s right leg slots into the space between Blaine’s, his hips pressing down. Blaine meets him there, already half-hard in his pajama pants. Kurt moves on top of him, intensifying everything, shivering at the feeling and losing himself in the sensation of their bodies sliding together.

A moan - he isn’t sure if it’s his or Blaine’s - startles Kurt back into consciousness.

“I don’t usually do this,” Kurt mumbles, hearing Blaine let out a small whining noise as he moves away to put some space between them.

“Why not— oh god,” Blaine’s face falls. “There’s a boyfriend, right? I knew someone like you couldn’t be unattached. I- I’m so sorry, Kurt, I-”

Kurt shakes his head. Blaine’s eyes are wide with fear. “No, no, that’s not it at all.” Kurt cups Blaine’s cheek, softly caressing the stubble that’s there. “Don’t you think I would have mentioned that earlier?”

He shifts a bit closer again in hopes of giving Blaine some reassurance. “I only meant that we’ve barely known each other for more than a day and here we are already racing to second base.”

Blaine snorts.

“What? What are you laughing at?”

“It’s just - Kurt, I didn’t expect you to use second base to describe what we’re doing. It’s kind of adorable.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Kurt swats at Blaine’s shoulder, grinning brightly at him. He takes Blaine’s hand into his own again, loving the feel of their skin together. “So, what I was saying-”

“Yes?” Blaine breathes, brings Kurt’s hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles softly.

Kurt bites his lip. “You’re making me nervous.” He looks into Blaine’s eyes. “I don’t think we should rush anything.”

“Me neither,” Blaine agrees.

“But-”

“But?”

“But you kind of make me want to,” Kurt murmurs, barely above a whisper.

Blaine’s eyes trail over his face, making Kurt’s heart beat faster.

And just like that, Blaine’s mouth is on Kurt’s again, this time sure and insistent with all signs of hesitation gone. He slides one leg over Kurt’s, straddling him and pressing their bodies closer together, like he wants to make sure that Kurt doesn’t leave.

“I won’t,” Kurt breathes out in between kisses.

“What?” Blaine replies absentmindedly, busy nibbling on Kurt’s jawline.

“Shhh, just kiss me.”

“I thought that’s what I was doing until you chose to interr- mphh-”

Kurt makes a mental note that kissing is his new favorite way to shut Blaine up.

He can feel Blaine’s fingers skimming the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. “What are you doing?”

“There are other parts of you that are begging to be kissed.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. And they’re making it very hard for me to ignore them.”

“Did you just make a pun abo-”

“Just let me kiss you.” Blaine’s grin is nothing if not wolfish. “May I?” He’s back to looking almost innocent.

“Yes, god, yes,” and Kurt didn’t think he could get any harder, but then there are Blaine’s lips and tongue on his skin and his train of thought completely derails.

The sound of the clock tower in the town square and the train whistle going off in the distance interrupt Blaine pressing kisses to Kurt’s fluttering stomach. “Shit,” Blaine mumbles into Kurt’s skin, making it difficult for him to remember words.

“Was that-”

“Yeah,” Blaine turns his head to look up at Kurt. “That was our train.”

“Mhm, you don’t sound too sad about missing it.”

“No,” Blaine smiles. “No, I can’t say I am. Are you?”

“No,” Kurt admits.

“Good.” Blaine turns his head back down and giggles into Kurt’s belly. “Good. Now - where was I?”


~ END ~

***

California Zephyr: http://www.amtrak.com/california-zephyr-train

Virtual Tour of Blaine’s bedroom on the train: http://www.amtrak.com/VirtualTour/Superliner/SL_bedroom.html