“So, I'll be back late tonight,” Kurt said, rummaging through his messenger bag for his Navigator keys while he walked Blaine to his room, “so we can get started on your literature project first thing in the morning, okay?”

“Boo,” Blaine said, pretending to pout, but not convincingly. He had no intention of making Kurt feel bad for leaving. Friday night dinners with his father were sacred. Blaine knew that. Still, everyone seemed to have plans for the evening except him, and he wasn't looking forward to spending the night alone studying Walt Whitman and the role he played in the transition between transcendentalism and realism.

Kurt pulled his lower lip down in a matching frown to Blaine's pout.

“I know. I'm sorry,” he said, stopping at Blaine's door. “But I promise, I'll make it up to you.”

“Will you?” Blaine asked, his voice dropping a register, becoming more suggestive. Kurt rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Yes,” he said, taking a step away from Blaine and his attempts at seduction, “by helping you get an A on your Walt Whitman project. Now let me go, or we'll be making out in your room and I'll never get home.”

That, frankly, didn't sound like a bad idea to Blaine, but Kurt was a stickler for being on time.

“Alright, party pooper,” Blaine teased, accepting a chaste kiss to the cheek. “I'll see you in the morning.”

Kurt lingered a moment longer to straighten the lapels of Blaine's blazer and then kissed him one last time on the opposite cheek. He hurried away before two kisses could turn into three. Then he'd end up missing dinner altogether.

Blaine watched him go, watched him race down the hall and turn the corner at the end, heading for the double-doors and then out to his car. Blaine sighed and his smile dropped. He unlocked his door and stepped inside his room, making sure to lock the door again behind him. He didn't need anyone walking in on him unexpectedly while he changed into his lounging-around-and-doing-nothing clothes – a plain white t-shirt and an oversized pair of grey sweat pants he wore when he had no one to impress.

He opened his closet door and stood in front of his full length mirror, watching himself undress, taking off each layer, piece by piece – shoes and socks first, and then his jacket and tie. He hung those up to get them out of the way. He unbuttoned his shirt, sliding the small circular disks through their holes and letting the fabric hang open, revealing a hint of pale pink.

Blaine smiled wide when he saw that blush of color, feeling his whole body relax, tension seeping away as he revealed more of the satin camisole trimmed in lace. As soon as his shirt was completely unbuttoned, he pulled the tails from his pants and slid it off his shoulders, hanging it up so he could get started on his belt and his slacks.

This reveal of his frilly panties was his favorite part, so he took the time to savor it.

This newest addition to his lingerie collection came courtesy of Man of Mystery, an online lingerie store for men where he ordered most of his favorite pieces. He had gotten this pair of baby pink ruffled rumba pants just a few days ago, and from the second he put them on, he never wanted to take them off. They came with removable garter belts, which he wore now, connected to a pair of matching pink stockings (that had been covered up quite effectively by his grey calf-length socks so that no one could see them beneath his uniform).

He preened in front of his mirror in his soft pink lingerie. He liked the way the lace contrasted against his tan skin. He turned in front of the mirror, looking himself up and down, admiring how snugly the rumba panties hugged his hips, the rows of lace accentuating the swell of his ass.

He had been wearing lingerie beneath his uniform since he started at Dalton. He didn't just enjoy it, he depended on it. It had become kind of like a security blanket. It was something he did for himself, a carefully guarded secret, and as far as he knew no one else had a clue.

He debated forgoing the t-shirt and sweats and simply lying out in bed in his lingerie, since he wasn't expecting any visitors. Then he could run his fingers over it unfettered, and touch himself as he saw fit.

Maybe not having any plans on a Friday night wasn't such a horrible thing after all.

Knockknockknock

Three quick knocks.

Kurt's signature knock.

Blaine's heart stuttered at the sound.

Kurt was back. He should have been on the highway by now but he was back, standing outside Blaine's bedroom.

Blaine held his breath. At least his door was locked.

“Blaine!” Kurt's voice called through the door. “Hey, Blaine! Carole wanted to know if you'd like to come over for dinner.”

Kurt's voice sounded excited. Blaine should be excited, too, but all he could imagine was the horror of Kurt discovering his secret.

“Uh…just a…just a minute…” Blaine called out, racing to his dresser and opening the bottom drawer, grabbing for his sweatpants and shirt, but not quick enough. He heard the doorknob turn and the lock unlock.

It mustn't have been thrown all the way.

Stupid damn sticky lock! He had intended on getting it fixed so many times before.

“Kurt! No! Wait!” Blaine yelled in a panic.

“I…” The door opened and Kurt stepped in. He stopped short when he saw Blaine, partially bent over his dresser, searching for his clothes, ruffle-covered behind pointed Kurt's way. Kurt's eyes went wide, comically wide, but neither boy was laughing. Blaine's face burned red but Kurt's face blanched, his mouth dropping open, his lips too numb to try and form words. Blaine stood up straight with his change of clothes clutched to his chest, partially covering the pink camisole and the front of the lace panties.

“Uh, I…uh, I…I'm so sorry, Blaine. I thought you said come in. Your door was unlocked…”

At the same time that Kurt started to ramble on with his apologies and excuses, Blaine started muttering himself.

“I'm just…I'm just, uh…this isn't what…I mean…the door was locked it's just…it's broken and…I thought you had gone…”

They both stopped speaking at the same time, coming to a crashing halt to allow the other to continue, but then neither spoke and the staring contest resumed. Kurt's eyes looked over Blaine from head to foot once. He tried to choke out another word, but couldn't. Both boys heard the sound of laughing voices headed their way, and Kurt snapped from his stupor. He turned and ran, the door slamming behind him.

Blaine stared at the door, his entire body shaking. In his head, he was chanting the same words over and over – OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod.

He had caught him. Kurt had caught him.

Blaine's heart sank.

It was all over.

His lingerie fetish was something he had intended on initiating Kurt into slowly…or maybe not at all. He hadn't decided fully yet. It was something he could really enjoy sharing with his boyfriend, later on when they had taken a few more steps into becoming more intimate, but now was much too soon.

They had only recently gone beyond kissing to touching, and even then it was over their clothes. Kurt had confided in Blaine that he had never really undressed in front of another boy. He never undressed in the locker room at school, and he and Finn dressed alone in the bathroom at home. Blaine always knew he would be the first to take his clothes off in front of Kurt.

And now he probably wouldn't ever get the chance.

He felt his knees knocking and he forced his body to move. He tossed on the clothes that he still held tight in his arms and sank down onto the edge of his bed. He reached across his desk and grabbed his phone. He figured that Kurt had left already, practically running for the proverbial hills, but he decided to send him a text message anyway.

To: Kurt

I guess we're over then, huh?

Blaine waited a few seconds for a reply, just in case he had caught him in the parking lot on the way to his car…but there was nothing. Five minutes and nothing. He had missed him, and now he would have to wait till tomorrow…

Blaine didn't want to think about it.

He threw himself back on his bed and buried his head in his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw lights flash against the dark behind his eyelids.

“Stupidstupidstupid…” he muttered.

He heard more footsteps outside his door, more students leaving for whatever weekend plans they had to look forward to.

All he had to look forward to now was heartbreak.

He counted the footsteps, counted the voices that passed by his door, giving him something to distract himself while he waited for a text from Kurt.

One set of footsteps stopped right outside his door.

Knockknockknock

Blaine sat up straight, wondering if he had heard that knock correctly. The door swung open slowly a crack.

“Are you decent?” Kurt joked, opening the door a sliver more and peeking his head in. Blaine sighed, relieved at hearing Kurt's teasing tone.

He was afraid Kurt might never speak to him again, or worse, that Kurt would think he was some sort of sexual deviant.

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “I'm…decent.”

Kurt walked in and closed the door behind him, throwing the lock for good measure.

“We're not over,” Kurt said, holding his phone up with the message visible on the screen. He approached Blaine on the bed.

“We're not?” Blaine asked in surprise. He recalled the look of near terror on Kurt's face when Kurt saw him. He was sure that meant they were through.

“Of course not.” Kurt eyed a vacant spot on the bed and raised a questioning brow. Blaine gestured to the space with a nod of his head and scooted closer to the wall to make more room. “I'm sorry that I…overreacted. I was a little surprised.”

“Yeah,” Blaine laughed dryly. “I imagine you were.”

“Um…do you always wear that under your uniform?” Kurt's eyes skimmed over Blaine's body, down his white t-shirt and his grey sweats, peering through narrowed eyelids as if he were attempting to see through Blaine's clothes. Blaine watched Kurt's eyes examining him with interest.

“Uh…yeah,” Blaine admitted. “Actually, I pretty much wear that underneath my clothes all of the time.”

“Really?” The word sounded slightly breathless, and Blaine could see his boyfriend's mind working. “Why?”

“Well,” Blaine started, watching Kurt's eyes darken from cornflower blue to a steel grey as he inched closer, eyes flicking over his clothes with that same convoluted expression on his face, “it just…it makes me feel…strong…confident…”

“Beautiful?” Kurt asked, his lips so close to Blaine's that a single breath would lead to a kiss, and from there…

Blaine didn't know, but he wanted to take that breath soon.

“Yes,” Blaine whispered. The word slipped past Kurt's lips and into his mouth, tickling over his tongue as his lips touched Blaine's. Kurt didn't go much farther than to slide his lips along Blaine's as he pushed him back onto the bed.

“I'm glad you came back,” Blaine confessed between kisses. “I was afraid that was the end of it. I was afraid we were over.”

“No,” Kurt said. “I mean, you've seen me with my avocado and mint deep cleansing mask on. We have no secrets.”

Blaine chuckled against Kurt's skin, but Kurt became quiet again, and Blaine couldn't help worrying.

“Um, Blaine?” Kurt pulled away from Blaine far enough to look into his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Can I…” Kurt swallowed lightly. “Would you mind if I…touch it?”

Blaine breathed in sharply, startled at Kurt's unexpected request.

“No,” he said hastily. Kurt pulled back further, misunderstanding. “I mean, yes,” Blaine rushed to cover up. “I mean, I wouldn't mind…at all.”

Kurt smiled – a subtle curl at the corners of his mouth that wavered with a sweet, naïve nervousness. They had been taking things one step at a time with firmly set boundaries and limitations set up to keep from going too far too fast, and this, this felt like leaping ten hurdles and winning the race, or skipping to the last page of the book. Kurt's eyes were glued to Blaine's face as he slipped his hand slowly down his body, tracing down his white t-shirt, feeling the lace of the camisole beneath.

Blaine's eyes watched Kurt's hand, barely breathing as Kurt outlined the lingerie underneath his shirt with trembling fingers. Blaine held his breath completely when Kurt's hand slipped beneath the waistband of his sweat pants. Kurt's fingertips brushed his boyfriend's growing erection, a whisper soft touch over the swollen head, and Blaine let out a moan – louder than he intended.

Kurt bit his lip, forcing back an anxious giggle, wrapping his fingers securely around Blaine's cock, holding him for a moment and taking a second to settle his racing heart and cherish this moment of heat, of trust. Kurt moved his hand, sliding smoothly over the silky fabric, gentle and unsure, but for Blaine, it was everything that he'd wanted for so long. It didn't take more than a twist and a few strokes to make Blaine cum, loudly as it turned out, with Kurt ducking his head and seriously considering whether or not he should stuff a pillow in Blaine's mouth.

“Sorry,” Blaine laughed, staring wide eyed at his boyfriend, seeing him much differently than he had this morning when wearing lace lingerie beneath his clothes was still his secret. “I guess I got a little carried away.”

“You could say that,” Kurt chuckled back.

“So, you don't think I'm a freak?” Blaine asked.

“No,” Kurt answered, lowering his eyes to Blaine's lips and softening his voice. “I think it's kind of hot.”

He lowered himself closer, intent on taking another kiss, but Kurt's eyes drifted to the clock on Blaine's desk and he shot off the bed.

“Fuck!” Kurt breathed. “It's almost five o'clock! I've got to get going!”

“But…but what about you?” Blaine asked, holding a hand out to lure Kurt back to the bed.

“Actually, that's why it took me so long to get back here,” Kurt confessed, heat rising up his neck and flooding his cheeks. “When I saw you…after the shock…I just couldn't help myself…”

Blaine felt his own cheeks growing hot. He knew where this confession was headed.

Kurt couldn't read the expression on Blaine's face, the way his skin flushed with color and his smile slipped.

“I…are you angry?” Kurt asked. “I would have waited, but I didn't want to assume…and I was already so hard, I just couldn't wait…”

“Shhh.” Blaine pushed himself off the bed and joined his boyfriend where he stood, putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders and catching his gaze. “It's alright.” Blaine laughed lightly, flattered by the idea that his boyfriend was so turned-on seeing him wearing lingerie that he had to rush off to the solitude of his room and jerk off - urgently, by the sound of it. “I understand.”

Kurt nodded, his regular color returning as normality set back in.

“So, are you going to join us…”

“Yes,” Blaine said, his face lighting up as he remembered that he'd been invited to dinner. “Let me just get changed.”

Kurt headed for the door, leaving to give his boyfriend some privacy. He opened the door and turned at the threshold. “Uh, Blaine?”

“Yeah, Kurt?” Blaine stopped with his hands at the hem of his t-shirt, poised to pull it off.

“Do you have any more of those?” he asked, his eyes darting around the room awkwardly before meeting Blaine's gaze again.

“Yeah,” Blaine said, drawing out the word when he said it. “Why do you ask?”

“Would you, you know, wear one? If it's not too uncomfortable for you?”

Blaine pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it to the floor, enjoying the catch in Kurt's throat when he saw the silky pink camisole against Blaine's skin, Blaine's own breathing quickening at Kurt's obvious arousal.

“Why don't you come back in and you can help me…you know…pick something out?”

Kurt didn't hesitate. They were already late for dinner. What was another hour?