AN: This began as a tiny little thing and grew larger than I expected. (Can't resist - That's what she said.) Anyway, there's quite a bit of fluff, with a little bit of hurt/comfort and some kissage. Kurt putting his skills to good use.
Enjoy!
If Burt Hummel ever wondered at how the Warbler's practice hours apparently increased by half an hour immediately following their loss at Regionals, he didn't say anything about it. If the Warblers themselves ever noticed that a familiar black Escalade remained in the parking lot for some time after their (very much normally scheduled) practices ended, they never mentioned it in earshot of either Kurt or Blaine. And if Blaine's roommate Stephen ever noted Blaine's absence or the state of his hair once he'd returned to the room...well, he went ahead and took the piss out of the other boy for it, but Blaine didn't really begrudge him for it in the end. Stephen, he felt, was somewhat entitled.
Of course, it really wasn't that Kurt and Blaine spent all that time attached at the lips. There was talking and a fair amount of just holding hands and listening to music, which inevitably became a sing-along, despite being fresh off of rehearsal. Kurt would almost say that his favorite new thing was the ability to just gaze into Blaine's warm hazel eyes and try and determine the exact shade of each individual fleck of color, (a past-time he felt sure he could someday list on a resumé, should he choose to apply for a design program in college).
Blaine also seemed to enjoy this particular activity, yet his eyes had a habit of escaping the gaze-lock and wandering down Kurt's face, stuttering at the bridge of Kurt's nose, lingering over the indent just above his mouth, and finally coming to a rest at Kurt's full bottom lip. The lip that would almost immediately drop open, ever so slightly, as if to say "Well? What are you waiting for?"
And then Kurt would be reminded why the eyes thing was almost his favorite new thing, because this kissing thing? That was oh so spectacular.
It brought them to that afternoon, with Blaine's hand wrapped around the curve of Kurt's neck, thumb stroking the base of his hairline, and Kurt's hands resting parallel on Blaine's upper arms, and Kurt feeling the tip of his nose bump into and over Blaine's as he languidly changed the angle of his head, letting his mouth fall open and his tongue drag along Blaine's upper lip. Blaine huffed out a startled breath from his nose and pressed harder, first with his lips, then with his whole body. They were in the backseat of Kurt's car and had started out, more or less, in the center, but now Blaine was inching forward and Kurt was slowly letting himself start to recline. He felt his stomach muscles begin to protest as the angle changed, but couldn't bring himself to truly care. Who could care about anything when they had a Blaine that tasted like spearmint tic tac and deliciously solid biceps under their flexing fingers? Kurt simply let one leg fall slightly open to redistribute his weight, and went back to lightly sucking on Blaine's upper lip.
Blaine noticed the shift, however, and reluctantly pulled back with a soft smacking noise that made Kurt want to giggle. He kept his hand on Kurt's neck, sliding it a little higher until he was cupping Kurt's face and could let his thumb slip up to caress a beautifully defined cheekbone. Kurt's eyelids drooped at the touch even as he shifted again to relieve some of the strain on his back and stomach caused by the awkward angle of their bodies.
"Mmm," he hummed.
"You okay?" Blaine murmured.
Kurt bit back a biting reply and offered Blaine a withering look in its place.
"Okay, dumb question," Blaine chuckled. Now Kurt couldn't have replied verbally if he'd wanted to: Blaine's low rumble of mirth was doing ...things... in the pit of his stomach. Things that must have reflected in his eyes because when he locked eyes with Blaine again the other boy groaned softly and leaned in for another kiss. It was just a firm peck though and then Blaine drew back again and began to adjust his own position to allow Kurt to straighten up again.
Oh, but that just wouldn't do! Kurt had done the up-and-down kissing thing now, he was so ready to move on, just a little bit...
"Here," he said when he could speak again, and had he realized that he wasn't able to before? For a boy whose words had been his sole defenses for so long (well, words and fashion sense anyway), should he maybe be more disconcerted by his failure with them now? Kurt decided to ponder that question. Later. Anytime that wasn't right now. Right now was for moving on, just that little bit.
"Here," he repeated and started to scoot backward. "I can just kind of..." And he reached his destination, slumped backward against the car door and gazed across at his boyfriend.
So maybe this wasn't the most comfortable of positions. The door was hard and there were various crevices that dug really quite irritatingly into tender spots. But now he was looking across at Blaine and Blaine was staring back with eyes that appeared to be starting to glaze over, before Kurt made a sound that had started as a word but ended up as just a needy little noise and lifted a hand to beckon. Then those eyes became sharp and bright again and Blaine all but lunged forward, and it was all chests pressing flush against each other, and hands landing on waists and shoulders and sliding into hair, and lips finding each other after a couple of amusing missteps involving chins and noses.
In the midst of it all was a little clatter against the backseat cup holder, but who had time for such an insignificant and far away noise like that when there were honest-to-God moaning noises happening so much closer up?
And speaking of time...
QuackQuackQuackQuackQuack!
"Nooo," Blaine very nearly whimpered as he slumped further into Kurt, turning his head and burying into his boyfriend's smooth, pale neck. "Why?"
QuackQuackQuackQuackQuack!
"Why do we have to stop?" Kurt replied idly stroking one of Blaine's palms as he tried to calm the mad flutterings in the pit of his stomachs, that were further encouraged by the feeling of Blaine's lips and stubbly chin moving against the side of his neck. "Because I have to get home before my father decides to release the hounds or before the faculty decides to come investigate. Or did you mean, 'Why, with an iphone with hundreds of ringtones downloaded onto it, have you decided on "Duck Sounds" for this particular alarm?' Because that's really a question to be asked of you."
QuackQuackQuackQuackQuack!
"It had to be annoying," Blaine replied, pulling back just enough to reach up and graze teeth along the hinge of Kurt's jaw. "I could make out with you to just about anything, but that? Not happening" He indicated to his pocket, where from the duck sounds should have been emanating. Then he frowned and patted the undeniably flat fabric.
"Wait, where's my phone?"
QuackQuackQuackQuackQuack!
"I don't know, but shut it UP!" Kurt pushed off of the car door and scooted up, putting on a show of smartening up his rumpled uniform, yet secretly thrilling at his disheveled state. Blaine made no move to sort out his own appearance, instead beginning to peer about the back seat
"It must have fallen out.."
QuackQuackQuackQuackQuack!
Kurt grimaced and leaned down to help Blaine.
"I've never been a major proponent of hunting, but if real life water fowl are this grating...Ah! Found it!" Kurt swooped down and snatched up the phone, unlocking and silencing it with the grim satisfaction of a successful mercenary.
"Oh thank G..." Blaine trailed off when he noticed Kurt's expression as he gazed down at the phone.
"Kurt? What..."
"You left the Internet app open." Kurt's looked as if he were struggling to stop from...from what? Blaine couldn't really tell and he racked his brains to remember what he'd been doing on the Internet the last time he'd used...
Oh God. Oh oh oh oh oh no -
"I can explain!" he blurted out, making an utterly useless and unsuccessful grab for the phone. "I mean..."
"Elevator shoes, Blaine?"
Time seemed to freeze as Blaine looked at Kurt and Kurt looked at Blaine. Then Kurt's struggles ceased and laughter began to spill from his kiss-swollen lips. Any other time that laughter would have been a wondrous sound, but now? Now Blaine just snatched the phone back and closed out the app, bright spots of color rising in his cheeks.
"I was just...looking." He said in a small voice.
Kurt's laughter died down at the sudden vulnerability in that statement.
"Oh Blaine, it's okay, I just..." And the merriment rose again, though unbidden. "I just didn't realize you spent spare time looking for lifts. I mean, I'm certainly no stranger to the occasional shoe with a bit of heel, but some of those are meant to bring you up 3 to 4 inches. And it's not like they're exactly a fashion statement..."
Blaine didn't know how to respond. He looked away from Kurt.
"Hey, hey." All traces of laughter gone, Kurt shifted closer to Blaine. He hadn't meant to upset the other boy, but he obviously had. He started to reach for Blaine, to cup his chin and turn his head to face him, but changed tact midway and let his hand slip down, trailing the length of Blaine's arm to his hand, intwining their fingers. He lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the olive toned one. "I'm sorry for laughing."
"My dad is two inches taller than me." Blaine blurted out suddenly. Kurt paused, their hands still raised, then he slowly lowered them, bringing in his other hand to completely surround Blaine's.
"And?"
"And...I thought maybe it would be easier to stand up to him, to answer back when he starts asking me when I'm going to start planning and thinking about something other than 'prancing about on stage'. When I'm going to start...start 'making something of myself'." The obvious pain in Blaine's voice made Kurt's heart ache and he shifted even closer, pressing their shoulders together, and squeezing Blaine's hand between his own.
"I thought it would be easier to stand up to him if I could be a littler taller while doing it. If I didn't feel like such a...kid." Blaine stopped and raised his free hand to scrub at his face. "Ugh, I know it's stupid and I shouldn't try and change myself..."
"Blaine, stop."
His boyfriend fell silent, but still didn't look up into Kurt's eyes.
"Blaine, do you really think I of all people would object to using fashion as a way to gain confidence?" Kurt's words were light, but his tone forceful. Blaine looked up in surprise.
"Well yeah, but there's a difference..."
"Is there?" Kurt interrupted. "Blaine, I have pants in a range of three sizes and of all different types of material to ensure that I have something to wear on days that I feel too fat, or too skinny, or too short or too tall. I have scarfs and hats and gloves that, besides being fabulous in their own right, are excellent for hiding bad hair or skin. I have a corset to wear under certain shirts because otherwise the lines are just all off. If there is an insecurity out there I have an outfit to deal with it. And maybe that means I'm hiding something, but you know what? I don't care. We all have to wear clothes, unless we want to run off and be nudists and that just seems like an awkward day-to-day existence. Especially as a member of the masculine gender, I might add.
"Anyway, we have to wear clothes. So why not make those clothes work for us? What's wrong with using clothes to make us feel good? You've never seemed to have a problem with your height so I'm going to assume this is just a dad thing..." Kurt paused and his expression dimmed slightly. "Wait, am I part of the problem? Do you not like having a boyfriend who is taller than you?"
"No!" The word was practically explosive and Kurt's eyes widened. Blaine blushed slightly, but didn't look away. "Actually...I really like it."
Kurt cocked an eyebrow.
"Really?"
"Yeah, I like it when I'm standing really close to you and I can feel your breath on my nose. I know that sounds weird, but your breath always smells good. And I like reaching up to squeeze your shoulders. And...well there are other things, but I think I've made my point." Blaine paused, his expression thoughtful. "So you don't think it's weird that I want special shoes just to talk to my dad?"
Kurt didn't answer right away, but he squeezed Blaine's hands again, reassuringly.
"I think it's a little sad," he said, finally, "And not sad in the sense of 'pathetic', but in the sense that I really wish your relationship with your dad wasn't so...strained, I guess is a good word?"
"It is."
"Then yes, it isn't exactly an ideal situation, but I wouldn't say it's wrong. I wear whatever I want to school because I could care less what those people think of me. I wear coveralls when I'm at the garage with my dad - for practical purposes, and because my Alexander McQueen collection really doesn't belong there. I wear my Dalton uniform here because it is required. We all wear different things for different occasions, Blaine. I don't see anything wrong with wanting that extra boost of confidence when talking to your dad."
Kurt paused again, and determination pooled in his glasz eyes.
"I'd love to help you. You know, to pick out which shoes. I can also give you some other pointers for great confidence outfits. You'll have to describe your existing wardrobe and we might need to shop around a little..."
Now raw enthusiasm and excitement was lighting up those earnest orbs and in truth it was making Blaine feel slightly giddy. Well that, and the relief.
"How did you do that?" he asked Kurt, snapping the other boy out of the beginnings of a Great Ideas trance. "You make me feel so good..."
Kurt opened his mouth and shut it again, feeling as though a wonderfully warm cloud was enveloping his heart. And to think he'd been worried before that his words were failing him. Turns out that when he needed them, they were there. And that his words had been used now, not as weapons or defenses against bullies, but as building blocks for his boyfriend's self esteem? That he'd been able to give back just a little bit of the support Blaine had shown him during their friendship? It felt great.
"I'm amazing that way." He beamed at Blaine, and would absolutely deny later that he then squeaked as Blaine leaned forward and captured his lips in one last kiss. Well, in the first of several "one last kisses" that occurred before Kurt nearly had to shove Blaine out of the car and set out on his way home, nearly half an hour later than planned.
But later, when Burt Hummel's folded arms and narrowed eyes just about dared his son to feed him more bullshit about losing track of time at "practice", and when one of the younger Warblers finally cracked and made some good-natured remark about starting to wonder if Kurt had forgotten how to get out of the parking lot, and when Stephen took the piss out Blaine in the usual manner, there were two people who knew better. Who knew that time spent in that Black Escalade was absolutely invaluable, and that it was about the vital connections of a new relationship and not all of those connections involved lips.
Of course...some of the best ones did.
AN: I hope you got some enjoyment out of this. Reviews are wonderful things. Very shiny and kind.