Commitment

They’re on their way to Blaine’s house, windows down and stereo up and still high off their reunion performance, when Blaine dares to bring it up.

“Can I ask you something?”

Kurt’s gaze is calculating when Blaine risks a glance, but his response is casual.  “Of course you can.”

“Why did you bring up the cheating thing earlier… and why so cavalier?”

Kurt doesn’t answer for a long moment, and Blaine knows he’s caught him off guard even without looking away from the road.

“I was just playing with you,” he says eventually.  But Blaine knows Kurt.  He knows that Kurt has had his guard up, to some extent, all day.  He knows that he still does now.

He decides to take a risk.

“I didn’t think that was something you would play about.”

He waits for it, waits for Kurt to get defensive, to put him in his place the way he’s done to people who have challenged him thousands of times before (but rarely Blaine, at least since they first got together.)

Kurt scoffs, but his words when they come are honest, not bitter.  “Maybe I just needed to hear you say it again.”

Blaine feels his heart drop in his chest.  “Kurt, you know I’ll reassure you as many times as you need to hear it.  It’s not going to happen again.  Ever.  It’s only you.”

Now he wishes he could look at Kurt—maybe he’d catch him off-guard; maybe he’d get a glimpse of Kurt vulnerable again in a way he hasn’t been for far too long (except Valentine’s Day, when something had broken in Kurt while they were moving together, brief and beautiful and a moment Blaine has cherished.)

He wants that again, more than anything.

“I know,” Kurt assures him.  His tone is gentle and forgiving, his hand warm and strong on Blaine’s thigh, and Blaine is glad they are nearly at his house.

The driveway is empty when they get there, and Blaine tries to hurry out of the car in time to open Kurt’s door but he’s too late.  Kurt sees his intent, though, and rolls his eyes.  Blaine beams.

In the house the door is barely shut and latched before they are kissing, so many walls to push each other against until Kurt gets tired of it and tugs Blaine up the stairs to his bedroom, come-hither grin firmly in place.  Blaine loves it, loves Kurt’s confidence now and God, it makes him so hard, but he can’t help wishing it was something different in his boyfriend’s familiar blue eyes.

They get to the bedroom and Blaine’s only dilemma is whether to start peeling off Kurt’s clothes or his own.  He’s thinking about it while Kurt’s eyes roam his room, taking in the three pictures of himself on Blaine’s nightstand, as well as his frequent appearance in the collage on Blaine’s wall (Blaine wants to be embarrassed, really he does, but he can’t quite manage it.)  When Kurt is finished he turns back to Blaine, face unreadable, and gestures instead to a recent picture of Blaine with Sam that sits on his desk.

“So, tell me about this crush on Sam?”

Blaine is a little taken aback, to say the least.  “What?”

“Sam.  Tina told me you have a crush on him.”

“I—“ Blaine stops, considers his next words.  “I did, yes.  So did you, before we met.”

“He bleaches his hair; I thought he might be gay,” Kurt offers with a shrug.

“I don’t want to talk about Sam,” Blaine says, closing most of the distance between them, hoping if he’s closer it will somehow convince Kurt to change the subject.

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s waist and smiles, a fake one that Blaine has seen before.  He’s almost insulted that Kurt would even attempt it with him.  “But you find him attractive,” he states matter-of-factly, then moves in to take Blaine’s mouth in a kiss.

Blaine is going to issue a disclaimer but the kiss distracts him, and after a moment he melts into it gratefully, thinking that the talking has stopped.  Kurt’s hands are trailing warm up and down his sides, clutching at his hips then sliding in to cup his ass, and he doesn’t think he has enough brain capacity at the moment for a topic like this.

“Do you think about it?” Kurt asks, suddenly detaching their lips.  “Doing this with him?”

“I… Kurt… what?  No!”  He jumps back, more confused than ever, trying and failing to get a read from the odd, twisted mirth on Kurt’s face.  “I mean… not anymore!”

“But you did… like him,” Kurt says, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his final words.

“I love you Kurt,” Blaine says defensively, beginning to feel irritated.  “And anyways, Sam is straight.”

Kurt’s expression falters for a moment, and it’s unsettling, watching him like this.  He takes a deep breath, and Blaine knows for sure, knows that there’s something terribly wrong here that needs to be fixed now.  “There are other guys who aren’t,” Kurt tries, but his forced bravado is failing him, practiced actor that he is.

Blaine’s fingers close around Kurt’s wrists, holding him there even as he takes another step back.  “Kurt, what is going on here?” he demands.

Kurt looks angry, and it scares Blaine a little, everything still too new and raw, but he forces it down.  Kurt’s arms twist, and they’re suddenly gone from Blaine’s grip.  “I’m just… trying to figure out if that’s something you’d like, Blaine!  If it’s something you might need!”

“What?”  It’s an instinctual response, something he likes to avoid, but it’s all his mind can grab onto.

“Someone else,” Kurt says, sounding drained now.  “I’m trying to figure out if it’s something you want, to be with someone else.”

This just started, and already Blaine is weary.  He wasn’t prepared for this, not today.  It’s too soon, too quick to drop after their reunion had made him feel so good right whole for the first time in what feels like forever.

“I already told you, Kurt,” he begins as evenly as possible.  “I’m not going to cheat on you again.”

“I know,” Kurt responds, but it doesn’t sound like he means it.  “But maybe if you need that… we could always have threesomes.”  

The word is a visible and verbal wince, and Blaine can feel himself flinching in response.

“This isn’t like you,” he protests, wondering what happened to the Kurt he sang with a mere hour ago.  “This isn’t Kurt Hummel.  Kurt Hummel wouldn’t do something he clearly detests just for me.”

Kurt is very deliberately looking away from him, and Blaine feels tempted to reach out and turn his head, but he doesn’t.  “Maybe you underestimate how much Kurt Hummel loves you,” he says softly.

Blaine’s heart melts at that; it’s the first time Kurt has said it since Thanksgiving.  But as much as he wants Kurt back, wants them back the way they were before—Kurt vulnerable and trusting and completely his—this Kurt is too much.  This Kurt is hurting, and Blaine can feel his protective instincts kicking in at full force.

There are so many things Blaine could say to reassure him, all of them true, and he closes his eyes for a moment and tries to think.

Eventually, he settles on something simple.  “I don’t want that,” he tells Kurt firmly.  “I don’t want that for me, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.  Ever.  I love you too.  And Kurt,” Kurt is looking at him now, finally, still guarded but Blaine can see that he’s there, “all I want is to be yours.”

Kurt smiles, real but weak.  “Are you sure?  Because if it’s really something that… I’d hate it but… I don’t want to risk…”

“Shut up.”  Blaine moves in for a kiss, hungry and hard but he loves the way that Kurt gives into it so easily.  Pulling back, he rests their foreheads together.  “Yours.”

He can sense it when something breaks in Kurt, and things begin to move fast.  He’s pulled up harsh against Kurt’s body and then finds himself tumbling backwards, pushed into the bed.  Kurt’s mouth is on his neck and his hands are roaming under his shirt, and it feels so good that Blaine can’t help but arch into it.  It’s been too damn long.

“Clothes,” he groans into Kurt’s ear, pulling pointedly at Kurt’s lavender button-down until it’s freed from his impossibly tight pants, even though he knows it will do him no good unless he can work his hands between them to tackle the buttons.

“Yes,” Kurt says into his mouth, then rolls over and begins to strip while Blaine does the same.  Undressing each other is nice, but they learned a long time ago that this way is quicker and easier.

There’s no negotiation between them because Blaine can read Kurt’s mood, can read himself, and as happens more often than not, they’re somehow on the same page.  Glancing over, he can see that Kurt’s still fiddling with his shirt, and his pants are certain to take a while, so he decides to time-save by going for the necessary supplies now.

His bottle of lube, sadly, is the same one he had last summer and only slightly emptier.  As frustrating as it was being single, guilt had thwarted many a masturbatory attempt since the last time Kurt was in his bed.  He takes it up eagerly now and without much thought, squeezing out a generous amount as he strokes his cock leisurely.  He doesn’t want to just do this; he wants to make it good.  More importantly, he wants Kurt to watch.

By the time Blaine settles on a position and has eased the first finger inside, Kurt is naked with his clothes folded haphazardly in a pile beside the bed.  Their eyes lock but Kurt’s gaze almost instantly wavers, and his groan of approval causes Blaine to positively beam with pride and happiness.

“God, Blaine, let me,” Kurt says, crawling over to topple Blaine onto his back and trace his fingertip around where Blaine is stretched.  “So fucking horny, aren’t you?  Let me…”

Obediently, Blaine withdraws his finger, only to have it replaced immediately with Kurt’s own.  Even after over a year (sporadically) as lovers, there are still some ways that Blaine’s own touch is admittedly better, but for this Kurt is so much more, and he’s missed it, being fucked like this in a way that isn’t awkward and too much effort.

Kurt’s free hand is gentle as it travels his face, his shoulders, arms, and chest, until it comes to rest on his belly, a sharp contrast to what is happening below.

“Kiss me,” Blaine grinds out, desperate for more contact, and Kurt smiles knowingly as he obeys, his cock brushing Blaine’s hip as their bodies get closer.

It’s not long and probably too soon when Blaine decides he’s ready, but Kurt doesn’t protest, his eyes as hungry as Blaine feels.  Strangely, it’s his hands that hold most of Blaine’s focus, solid warm pressure on Blaine’s calves as Kurt folds his knees and holds them there while he sinks inside.

“Missed this.  I missed this so much, Blaine.  I wanted to so badly on Valentine’s Day but I knew if I did I couldn’t hide from you…”

Blaine kisses him to cut him off.  “I saw you anyway.  But it doesn’t matter now, Kurt… please, please just fuck me.”

Kurt’s teeth bite sharp into his lip.  “So damn polite, even like this.”

But he listens.

Blaine knows it’s clichéd, but behind the pleasure and the burn of every thrust it feels like a homecoming, like Kurt is branding him somehow, and he knows that’s what Kurt wants too.  He feels like himself in the best way, anchored to his body now that Kurt is finally here with him.  Twining his legs around Kurt’s hips, Blaine keeps him there.  He wants to be an anchor for Kurt, too.

It’s more about connection and less about climax, and that’s okay until the sweat has built between them, making every drag of Kurt’s stomach against Blaine’s cock even sweeter, and they’re moving slower now for the holding back.  Kurt’s eyes are squeezed shut and Blaine doesn’t want that, he wants to see him, and he traces his fingers around Kurt’s beautiful face until his boyfriend blinks and they’re looking at each other again.

Kurt smiles at him and it’s such a relief that he’s not hiding from Blaine, from this moment.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t know if I can keep on much longer…”

“Don’t care.  Just… touch me?  Please?”

Kurt’s hand wraps around Blaine’s shaft and it feels perfect, just like he remembered, and suddenly Kurt’s presence is the only anchor he has because the rest of him is flying.

“Faster,” he breathes between them, keening when Kurt obeys and arching into the movement, the repetitive slap of their bodies obscenely loud and turning Blaine on all the more.  “Fuck, Kurt, I can’t…”

Kurt’s mouth finds his as he comes, swallowing his cries while he claws at Kurt’s shoulders.  When it’s over Kurt is still going and it’s far too much; Blaine latches on and screams with every thrust, loving every minute of it as Kurt buries his face in the sweaty crook of Blaine’s neck and moans and finally lets go.

The world comes back, but they remain.

Slowly, Kurt lifts his head and his hips, kissing Blaine as they separate and collapsing beside him, grappling at night stand for some tissues.  Blaine watches him, still a little dazed, and then his eyes fall again to his photos.  Blaine-and-Kurt, Blaine-and-Kurt, Kurt, Kurt again, Blaine-and-Kurt… his eyes travel around the room, and Kurt is everywhere.  Blaine wonders how Kurt could have done the same earlier and yet didn’t see it, didn’t see how while they were apart Blaine had still needed Kurt to surround him so he could feel like his.

Kurt is leaning over him now, gently swiping the tissue across Blaine’s chest and stomach.  Blaine wishes so badly he knew what to say, that he had the words to convince Kurt that in Blaine’s eyes, it had always been them against the world.  He looks at Kurt and wills him to know it, but Kurt just smiles and kisses him again, and Blaine can only follow.

“I love you,” he says, giving the words their proper weight.

Kurt brushes their noses together affectionately then curls his long body up against Blaine’s side.  “I know.”

While they lay there Blaine remembers the box that is hidden in his closet, thinks about the elaborate plans he has made in his head and wonders if he can pull them off. 

Maybe he has the right words after all.