Fic: Hands all over
Rating: T/may go over to M. Maybe.
Pairings: Kurt/Dustin (Durt) , Kurt/Blaine (Klaine)
Prompt: Kurt/Blaine, Kurt/Older Man, Burt, Ephebophilia, protectiveness, vulnerability (can be found at glee kink-meme)
Summary: Kurt, being 18, can take care of himself. At least—that's what he believes. Blaine on the other hand is not too sure when Dustin Goolsby is in the picture.
Warnings: prompt tells it all.
A/N: enjoy!
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"That would look amazing on you," a deep voice sounded behind them. Blaine and Kurt turned to look at the man who had commented on the dark blue button up shirt, both slightly shocked to be interrupted.
He reached out his hand in a greeting motion to shake hands. "Hello. Dustin Goolsby," the man introduced himself. Blaine stepped up to shake the firm hand first introducing himself, still unsure of Dustins' intentions.
"Nice to meet you again, Mr. Goolsby," Kurt said. He earned a shocked gaze from Blaine and a nod from the Vocal Adrenaline coach.
"Hello Kurt. I saw your performance at sectionals last week," Dustin continued, "Truly extraordinary. But what made you leave the New Directions? They did win Nationals last year." Blaine glared at the man who kept his attention on Kurt.
"Personal and environmental reasons," Kurt shrugged casually.
"Well, that's too bad." Blaine's glare intensified. "Although the Warblers did need a counter tenor. Good for them." Kurt blushed lightly—Blaine, on the other hand, wasn't too sure if it was a compliment or not.
"How about we meet up for dinner tonight, to discuss your future in the musical business."
Kurt could only nod. Blaine felt his jaw slip.
"Meet me at Le Temple at seven sharp. We'll go see Le Miserables afterwards, so dress nicely." Kurt stuttered a silent, "yes" as Dustin turned for the exit.
"It's a date," he finished, waving goodbye.
Both boys stood silent for a minute. Blaine turned slowly towards Kurt again—eyebrows scrunched up in concern.
"You can't be serious, Kurt!" Blaine said. He was on the borderline of begging—disappointment filled his eyes.
"What, Blaine?" Kurt asked as he put the shirt back on the rack, continuing like nothing had happened.
"He is almost double your age!" Blaine screeched. People were starting to notice, but he didn't care. Kurt, on the other hand, did. He kept looking through the cloth racks, trying to distract himself and not draw any more unwanted attention.
"So?" he asked in a nonchalant manner.
Blaine reached for his best friends arm, grabbing it in a tight, desperate grip. "So? Kurt, this is serious!"
The taller teen snapped, turning to face the other teen who still kept his arm captive "I am eighteen, Blaine. I can perfectly take care of myself. Now let go of me!" Kurt tried prying the hand of his arm with his nimble fingers. Blaine only tightened the grip, staring seriously at Kurt. No emotion could be hidden between them—they had spent every hour they could together since they met. None of them were happy at the moment—rather, they were both irritated and on edge. Blaine tightened his hold of Kurt's now hurting arm and dragged the protesting teen out of the shop, leaving behind a horde of confused shoppers.
Blaine kept Kurt by his side as they walked at a face pace towards the malls' exit. Kurt was the weaker of the two and no matter how much he struggled he couldn't get away. Thoughts of yelling were abruptly stopped—he would never let Blaine get in the fire just because of some action he himself took. Blaine would never do that to him; he wouldn't sink so deep to rat out his friend who had done nothing wrong. But maybe temper or jealousy management courses would be something. Kurt noted in his head to check that out later.
Blaine kept the straight course, out the exit of the mall and straight to his car—Kurt's arm still in his grip. As they neared the silver SUV Kurt was dragged to the passenger side. Blaine—the ever gentleman—opened the door and pushed Kurt lightly but firmly down on the comfortable seat. He slammed the door shut, walked briskly to the drivers' side, opened the door and slammed it in the same manner when his feet had barely gotten inside safely. As soon as the engine started the car was in motion. Kurt sat uncomfortably in the usually heavenly seat, but when Blaine was seething he couldn't keep himself from feeling uneasiness and a slight bit of fear.
"Blaine—" Kurt started but was abruptly stopped by a glare from said teen. He didn't let go of his breath until Blaine turned his glare to the road again. Shifting his gaze to the hands on the steering wheel he saw that Blaine's knuckles where white. Based by the look on Blaine's face he was using all his might not to yell at someone—most likely Kurt. 'But why?' Kurt wondered, 'I didn't do anything wrong. It's just a harmless… date…' Suddenly his hand couldn't lie still in his lap—nervousness moving them.
The car was filled with a tense silence the rest of the way to Kurt's home.
After around ten excruciating minutes Blaine finally parked the car in front of Kurt's house, merely dropping him off before continuing on the way to his own home.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Kurt said as he left the car. Blaine only gave a small nod, giving the indication that he had heard him. The sound of the motor didn't start until Kurt had opened the door to his house. He turned in the doorway looking longingly after the silver car. When it was out of his sight he went inside to get ready for the dinner.
On the way to his room he said a quick 'hi' to Finn. He had about three and a half hours before he had to meet Mr. Goolsby.
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