My attempt at trying to rationalize the possible implication that Klaine slept together over Christmas given what Kurt's state of mind must have been.
I don't own Glee.
It took Kurt less than half a minute to decide after his dad left on his daily walk Christmas morning.
"Blaine?" he called, knocking on the bathroom door. "Can I come in?"
Something clattered to the floor and Kurt heard shuffling sounds before the door opened to reveal Blaine clad only in one of Rachel's ugly pink towels.
"What's up?" Blaine asked. His hair was still fluffy from sleeping on the couch and a speck of toothpaste clung to the corner of his mouth. Kurt's heart lurched in what could become a sob if he let it. He launched himself into a kiss instead, burying his hands in Blaine's hair and swallowing his surprised yelp with a whimper of his own.
Blaine overcame his shock quickly, melting into the kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around Kurt and his hands bunching in the back of his sweater. They stumbled backward into the door, slamming it closed with a sharp bang.
Kurt tore himself away from the kiss with a gasp, cradling Blaine's head in his hands and trailing a line of kisses from his mouth to the stubble-rough corner of his jaw.
"I'm sorry," he murmured between kisses. "This doesn't mean we're… mm… back together, but I can't… between you being here and my dad…"
"It's okay," Blaine kissed him. "This doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to."
"You're sure?" Kurt breathed, his voice high from anxiety.
"I know we said we'd talk about things more, but I get it. You're freaking out about your dad. If you need me to help-" he paused, running a hand down Kurt's back "-take the pressure off, I can do that. And we can discuss us once you've had time to process things."
Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. He'd lain in bed the night before unable to sleep for all the feelings and wants circling his mind. His dad's mortality, NYADA, Blaine's ever-charming smile, broken promises, how empty and cold his bed was as he lay there alone. He felt like he was drowning under all the confusion. If one more thing happened, good or bad, he might snap.
But this – being with Blaine, touching Blaine, kissing him – he knew how to do this. Right now he needed to do this.
"Thank you," Kurt moaned, pulling Blaine to him properly and kissing him with everything he had. He felt Blaine almost lose his balance to the kiss and moved his arms to his waist, gripping him close and reveling in the feel of Blaine's bare skin against the palms of his hands.
He'd missed this.
"What do you need?" Blaine murmured against his mouth.
Kurt pulled him back into the kiss, grinding his hips against Blaine's and teasing the curve of his back where the towel covered his ass.
"You. This. I don't care how, I just need you."
Blaine moaned and yanked his shirt out of his pants, quickly bringing his hands around to Kurt's front to fumble with his belt and zipper. Kurt took the opportunity to relieve Blaine of the towel.
Fuck he'd missed this.
Blaine kissed him deeply once more before kneeling down on the discarded towel and immediately taking him into his mouth.
Kurt sighed happily. He hadn't even known he needed this before he saw Blaine charming his way around that stupid ice rink, and even then he wasn't sure he should, but oh, this was everything.
It was so easy to fall back into their old patterns of being together, of needing each other in every way possible. Part of him hated it, but for now, just this once, Kurt didn't want to think about how badly Blaine hurt him, couldn't stand to think about the ways the future might tear at him. He just wanted human contact and the haze of pleasure and – oh fuck! – Blaine's hands doing that while he sucked Kurt off.
Kurt came with a quiet cry far sooner than he wanted to. He tried to relish in the dazed tingling of his limbs, tried to soak up the glorious feel of Blaine kissing up his stomach where he'd pushed Kurt's shirt and cardigan out of the way, but it didn't help. Before he knew it the hot pressure of tears built up behind his eyes and he was crying, Blaine's hair still threaded through his fingers.
It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he have this, have Blaine without any doubts or tragedies getting in the way? Why did something bad have to cancel out or diminish whatever good he managed to create for himself? He was sick of everything being so complicated, of holding on so tight to his armor of self-control every single day of his life.
"Kurt? Honey?"
Kurt slid down the door and let himself collapse in a messy splay of limbs between Blaine's spread thighs.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
Blaine folded him into a hug and murmured nonsense into his hair. The part of Kurt that was still angry at him raged at the audacity of this asshole for trying to comfort him, but the rest of him whimpered at the hugeness of the world he was faced with and clung back even tighter.
Fuck, it wasn't fair.
He couldn't lose his dad, he couldn't. His dad was his rock, his unchanging and ever-present support system. Burt Hummel was the man he modeled his character on, his sense of self-worth. What would he do if his dad wasn't around anymore? He couldn't lose him, not after everything they'd been through together. Not now. Not yet.
"I can't lose him."
"I'm going to take care of him for you," Blaine said, petting his back. "I promise. It'll be okay. You'll be okay."
Kurt wanted to believe him so badly, but he was the boy who broke his heart. How was he supposed to trust him with something so huge as this if he was afraid to trust him again with himself?
Blaine continued to stroke his back, whispering assurances and occasionally planting light kisses on Kurt's neck or shoulder. Eventually Kurt felt himself calm down enough to stop crying.
He sniffled wetly, disgusted as always by the amount of snot that managed to build up in his nose when he cried.
"I'm so tired."
Blaine pulled back enough to gently thumb the tears off Kurt's cheeks, smiling his damnably perfect supportive smile. "Do you want to go lay down? I can start Christmas dinner for you if you want me to. I don't really have to take a shower."
Kurt closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Blaine's. It sounded so tempting.
"My dad should be back from his walk soon. I want to spend as much time with him as possible."
"Okay," Blaine nodded. He was so damn earnest. Kurt looked down to avoid his gaze and noticed Blaine was still half hard.
"You didn't come."
Kurt felt stupid and sluggish. It took longer than he thought it should for his hand to move down between Blaine's legs. Just because he was having an emotional crisis didn't mean he shouldn't reciprocate.
"Hey, no," Blaine caught his wrist. "It's okay. This was for you. I can take care of myself later."
Kurt felt relieved. He didn't think he actually had it in him to try to get Blaine off right now.
"You're sure?" he asked, just in case.
"Absolutely," Blaine smiled, squeezing his shoulder.
Kurt sniffled again and tried to get himself back under control. He couldn't let his dad see him like this.
Blaine moved away briefly, running something under the tap and coming back with a damp washcloth.
"Here," he said. "I know you hate it when your eyes get all puffy."
Kurt smiled in thanks, trying not to let the tears well up again, and placed the cool washcloth against his eyes, holding it there and breathing in and out as evenly as possible. It was a trick his mother taught him when he was barely out of diapers and it never failed to calm him down when he cried like this. Of course Blaine remembered it.
He folded it over a couple more times, chasing the cool sensation. He did feel calmer, for now at least.
Blaine was smiling at him tenderly when he opened his eyes again. He'd wrapped the towel back around his waist, probably more to dissuade Kurt from attempting to reciprocate again than because he was at all self-conscious about being naked around him.
Kurt smiled back at him weakly.
"Thank you," he said.
"Hey, we said we'd always be there for each other, right? That includes this too."
Kurt nodded stiffly and looked away. He could already feel his walls attempt to rebuild themselves again.
"I should get started on dinner," he said, standing up and placing the washcloth on the edge of the sink. "Those veggies aren't going to roast themselves."
"Okay," Blaine nodded, visibly pulling into himself. Kurt ignored his desire to flinch.
They smiled at each other awkwardly for a few moments. Kurt tried to inject a little of the gratitude he felt into his smile, then turned and left the room.
He still felt broken, but not as much as he had last night. He'd take what he could get.
Thoughts?
