Anniversary, and a bit of my Burt Headcanon. Cute fluff. And allusions to smut that I wimped out on writing. So I'll rate this T.
Hope you enjoy. I don't own Glee. Or the boys. But they'd be happier with me. And get more kisses.
"Boys, I trust you. I trust you with this because you're good to one another, because you don't break up and get back together like most of the kids your age, and because, unlike most of the kids your age, you can't just sit on a park bench and kiss. You can't just walk down the street, arms around one another. Hell, in this town, even movie theatres aren't entirely safe. And I certainly don't want you doing anything in the back seat of a car. So, um, yeah. Just…be careful, be safe, and please, be discreet." It had to have been the most uncomfortable speech Burt Hummel had made in his entire life. Even more uncomfortable for the two boys he'd been talking to. Right as he explained that Kurt and Blaine were allowed to be in Kurt's room. With the door closed. And that Blaine could stay the night. As long as his parents didn't mind.
"Beware the Ides of March." Kurt sighed, dropping the book back onto his bed. "Whose idea was it to do our homework before we could enjoy our anniversary?"
"Um, that would be your dad's?" Blaine asked, grinning cheekily. "Besides, all you have left is that one act of Julius Caesar to read, and we can go. I have a dozen more calculus problems, but they aren't due until Friday, so it's no big deal. I can do them tomorrow."
"She had to assign this act today, didn't she?" Kurt grumbled. "Today being the Ides of March. The irony did not escape me."
"Did you know that people, yourself included, tend to use the word irony completely wrong?" Blaine asked.
"Did you know that my boyfriend has no chance of getting laid tonight?" Kurt shot back.
"Did you know that my boyfriend is the most intelligent, beautiful, most wonderful person on the face of the-mmmph!" Blaine's words were cut off when Kurt launched himself at the shorter boy, landing them both flat in the middle of the bed.
Kurt kissed Blaine thoroughly, sucking his boyfriend's tongue into his mouth. He aligned his body with Blaine's, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. As their height difference was mostly in their legs, both young men delighted in how well they fit together.
Blaine whimpered against Kurt's mouth, squirming against the bed beneath him. "Kurt!" he whined.
Kurt chuckled against Blaine's lips. "Yes, my love?" he asked.
"Is your door locked?" Blaine tore his lips away from Kurt's. "Please say yes."
"Even better," Kurt whispered. "Dad's in Washington, Carole is working overnight, and Finn is at Rachel's. But Dad's going to call and ask about the homework. You know he will."
Blaine's eyes went wide. "Then we'd better finish the homework," he said. He pushed Kurt away gently. "Want me to read the play with you?"
"I'd love that."
The two boys laid side-by-side on the bed, reading aloud through the play. Blaine did the silliest voices for the Romans, and Kurt giggled as he tried to read his lines.
But finally, the act was finished, and the book was closed. Other textbooks were tucked away, and then it was just the two of them.
"It's just too bad the Ides of March is such a 'doomed' day for Caesar," Kurt said idly, stroking a hand up and down Blaine's arm. "Because I think it may be my absolute favorite day of the year."
"Happy first anniversary, love," Blaine murmured. He leaned in for a gentle kiss. "We have reservations for seven. We should get up and get ready."
"Screw the reservations," Kurt said. "Did you not hear what I said about having the house to ourselves?" He again rolled himself on top of Blaine. "We'll order in later. Maybe."
"Good," Blaine said. "Does that mean I can tear your clothes off?"
"Not quite," Kurt smiled. "I haven't given you your present yet."
"I thought we agreed not to get each other presents. We're saving for traveling expenses next year."
"I spent less than five dollars," Kurt assured him. "And Dad and Carole gave me advice on it, so I'd suggest taking it."
"But I didn't…"
"Trust me, sweetheart," Kurt said, pulling the tiny box out of his bedside drawer. "This is a gift for both of us." He held the box out to Blaine. "Take it, please?"
Blaine slowly took the thin, flat box with its ornately tied bow. Fumbling with the ribbon, he managed to get it off after only a few seconds. He opened the box, and took in the simple key nestled in the cotton. "A key?"
"It's to the front door," Kurt said, almost shyly.
"Your Dad and Carole are okay with me having a key to your house?" Blaine asked. Disbelief shone on his face.
"I think Carole is hoping the key will encourage you to drop by when she's alone next year," Kurt said. "Since Dad will be in Washington a lot, and Finn and I are moving out…she'll be by herself a lot. And you two get along. Besides. No one outside the house has a key, and Dad wants someone to have one in case of an emergency. So it's really a practical gift my parents suggested. And Dad asked me to remind you that you're always welcome, so it's not necessary for you to use the key to, I believe his words were, sneak into my bed at night."
Blaine laughed. "I'm pretty sure the night I knocked on the door at nine p.m. and he let me in, saying only 'Kurt's upstairs. Don't stay up late', clued me in that he was pretty cool with the whole thing. That is, if the speech hadn't already done it."
Kurt nodded. "So you'll take it?"
"You'll have to wrestle it away from me," Blaine promised. But he set it on the bedside table and set himself to the very real, and somewhat daunting task of removing all of Kurt's layers. "Babe?" he asked, after removing a vest and over shirt, "You knew we were doing this tonight…why all the layers today?"
"I love the look of intense concentration you get on your face when you're trying to undo all the tiny buttons," Kurt confessed. But he helped Blaine, and soon enough, both boys were stripped to the waist, warm hands skimming over warmer flesh.
Kurt and Blaine didn't have sex. What passed between them could only be called making love. It was slow, sweet, drawn out and, after several months of practice, perfect.
"Happy anniversary," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips. "The first of many."
"Very, very many," Kurt agreed. They lay in each other's arms, sated and sticky with sweat. Mustering up the energy, they made it to the shower, bathing one another with unhurried grace.
"Should we order dinner?" Blaine asked, towel drying his curly hair.
Kurt gave him another smoldering look, and Blaine knew the answer to his question. They didn't bother. At midnight, the official end to their first anniversary, they raided the kitchen, needing sustenance. Kurt cut up some bread and cheese, while Blaine rinsed grapes and cubed some cantaloupe. They fed each other, back in bed, piece by piece. Kurt wore Blaine's t-shirt along with his own pajama pants, Blaine merely wore his old Dalton sweatpants, riding low on trim hips.
"We have to be up in five and a half hours," Kurt noticed.
"I guess that means our night is over," Blaine looked dejected.
"The strenuous part, yes," Kurt laughed. "But I want to fall asleep in your arms."
"Set the alarm," Blaine instructed. Dishes were set aside, alarms were set, and the boys settled into one another's arms, finding a comfortable position. Kurt's head pillowed on Blaine's chest as they drifted off to dream.
Hope you guys like this one better than you liked yesterday's! Sorry to everyone who thought I was too easy on Blaine...I didn't think I was treating it that way, but apparently, I was. Oh well, it's written. :) Please read and review this one!