Blaine slid up behind Kurt. "Hey handsome," he said, placing a kiss on Kurt's jawline.
A chill coursed up the countertenor's spine. It started out as a comfortable joy but, as he saw the looming figures of Karofsky and Azimio rounding the corner, it turned to dread. "Blaine… stop." He shrugged his hand off of him and said, "I'm sorry… we can't… not here." Just as he did, he saw a Freshman running from the same corridor as the bullies, his face hidden in his hands presumably to hide the blood dripping from his nose. "I'm sorry," he added, shaking the vision from his head. "I love you," he mouthed, placing a hand on his shoulder and walking past.
As he leaned back on the locker bank, Blaine let out a sigh. What was it going to take for Kurt to let him in? He understood that they'd both had some bad run ins with bullies over their sexuality, but what did that matter now? All that mattered was that they were together now. Couldn't he see that their relationship was stronger than any hate?
—
As Blaine shuffled his papers back into his folder, he got a message from Kurt. "Hey babe. I'm sorry about earlier. Let me make it up to you?"
His hazel eyes twinkled. Shaking his head a bit, he typed "You don't have to do that. There's nothing to be sorry about." He smiled, imagining the frenzy Kurt must've had himself worked into. He added, "I love you. Don't worry about it."
Drumming his fingers on the keyboard a bit, he waited for a response. "I know. Still. Just, meet me under the bleachers before second period. Apparently Quinn had Sue put in couches."
Blaine cocked his head a bit. "Couches?" He thought about where this was leading for a moment and promptly took the ideas right away. "Alright. Tomorrow morning. I love you."
A million thoughts raced his mind. What could Kurt possibly have planned?
—
As soon as his first period German let out, Blaine took off for the stadium. He couldn't sit still all morning, and he hadn't even seen Kurt yet, even though he had waited for him by his locker. The excitement was getting to him.
His pulse was racing as he skidded to a stop at the access gate where he caught a glimpse of Kurt, in dangerously tight pants and that glorious leather jacket that hugged him in all the right places, perched atop a raggedy old couch, fiddling with something that he couldn't quite discern. He took a deep breath, adjusted the bag that was slipping off of his shoulder and forged on, flipping the latch on the gate open.
"Hey, handsome," Kurt called, hearing the clang of the fence closing. He looked up, giving a bit of a "come hither" look, accompanied by the tiniest hint of a lip quirk. It seemed hat, by now, the baby penguin had been devoured by a tiger, or perhaps a cougar. He laughed that thought out of his mind. Blaine was older than him, after all. He'd just switched schools too many times and his credits got messed up. He let out a bit of breath as Blaine got closer, noticing how snug his jeans were and realizing, for the millionth time, how gorgeous this man really was. "So, I've brought you down here for a reason." He smiled, hopped down off the back of the couch and approached Blaine, reaching out his hands for his boyfriend. "Blaine New-Directioner," Kurt started.
"Oh, I still don't have a last name? How—" but he was cut off.
Laughing, Kurt added "Anderson. Blaine Anderson, I love you more than anything. You're my best friend and my lover and I know that I've been a bit standoffish of late," he said, stepping backward, pulling Blaine with him and not looking away from his eyes once, "and I know that's not what we're about. I'm just very scared of the way we've both been treated and I don't want that to come between us." He reached down behind him on the couch and pulled out a dozen roses and knelt down. "The yellow one's represent friendship and the red represent love and passion. Perfect combination of us, considering I couldn't find one for sexiness or talent." He smiled, realizing that he didn't really intend for this to be something to laugh at. "Look, Blaine, I don't want you to think that there's anything wrong here, because there's not. I'm just not incredibly comfortable putting you in harms way."
Blaine looked down at his boyfriend's watery blue eyes. "Kurt, you are such an incredible person. You inspire me every day. I can't imagine anyone being more in tune than you." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I don't want you to ever think that you have to rush into something that you don't want to do. I would never want to put you in that position."
Kurt just stared at his boyfriend. He didn't know what to say. "There's no pressure. And I know that. I just wanted you to know that… I am ready. Just not in school." He stood up a bit, pulling Blaine in very close by the waist of his jeans, "But, we're not in school now, are we?" he said, with just a dash of daring, licking his lips ever so slightly.
"Well, technically," Blaine replied coyly, "we are on school property…"
Noticing the increasing tightness of the fabric he had hold on, "I mean, if you don't want to, we could always just go in to study hall."
"No, I think this is a much better idea," he said as his bag dropped to the floor. Kurt took the flowers out of his hands and put them down next to the bag. Then, with feverish movements did went about getting that ridiculous sweater off of his boyfriend, along with quite a few other things.
—
With hands fumbling as he tried to get the damned bowtie back on, Blaine decided that he was definitely going to like McKinley after all as he slid down into his seat for American Lit. However, how in the hell was he supposed to focus on The Great Gatsby after that?
