A/N: First and foremost, I am so so sorry about how long this took. I was crazy busy before I went away, then I was on holiday for 8 days and came back to riots in London (where I live) before leaving again a few days later. So I finally got home and managed to write it, and meant to have it up yesterday but couldn't get hold of my beta and yeah… I'm sorry, it's been a hectic month. But TADAH. Oh and I go away AGAIN tomorrow. But anyway, I hope you like and review and shit…

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Blaine actually found himself enjoying working in Hummel's Tires and Lube more than he expected (not that he had expected it to be bad, of course). His parents, who had thought he would be in Chicago all summer anyway, didn't care that he was off in Lma so much and honestly, he suspected that for his father, the 'benefits' of Blaine doing manual work outweighed the 'cons' of him working with Kurt all day, every day, so he barely kicked up a fuss.

Plus, he wasn't really working with Kurt. He was working in the same building as Kurt, trying desperately not to ogle him all day. 'With' would imply that their work was somehow on the same level, when really watching Kurt just made Blaine feel like a chimp that was banging a wrench aout.

"Don't feel bad babe," Kurt had assured him when Blaine had mentioned it when they were alone in the office one day. "After my mom died, I came here every day after school and every Saturday. I picked stuff up."

"Every day? You couldn't get a sitter?"

"I didn't want a sitter. I just wanted to be with my Dad. I didn't have many friends back then either, Blaine."

Blaine had simply wrapped his arms around Kurt and squeezed tight, pressing feather light kisses onto his face until Mark had walked in and awkwardly cleared his throat.

Slight PDA issues aside, the other guys that worked there were a good group. There was Burt, of course, Mark (who apparently had aged very well and had actually been working there since before Kurt's mom had passed), Andy (who was only a few years older than he was and found everything absolutely hilarious, and that included making inappropriate jokes when Burt was standing right there) and Stan. Blaine had been slightly nervous when he'd first met Stan; aging Christians from Kansas tended not to look too fondly upon people like him and Kurt. Unlike Mark, he hadn't been there that long, only taking the job last year after he found that retiring and relocating to Lima was actually quite boring if there was nothing to fill your time with. However, he had merely nodded politely at Blaine before getting back on with his work and Blaine honestly doubted that Burt would employ anyone who didn't respect his son, so Blaine settled in quite nicely.

Mostly, he either handled the simple jobs or the general customer relations side of things. Burt knew that when dealing with transport-less Ohio residents, a little charm went a long way, and charm was something Blaine had by the bundle (oh the joys of private school education). He also did some of the basic admin jobs, like helping out with inventory or sorting out the shift schedule (there were between four and five of them in at a time, and somehow he and Kurt were yet to work separately). It wasn't particularly strenuous or enthralling, but it was satisfying nonetheless and, hey, it beat sitting around at home waiting for Kurt to be free.

Because Blaine was realistic. He knew that if he wasn't currently listening to Andy and Mark debate the merits of the Titans' last season, he would probably be dancing around his room to the Rent soundtrack.

"Hey, kid," Burt leant across the counter, "What's in that sandwich? Smells real good..."

Blaine swallowed the mouthful he had just taken with some difficulty. "Uh, meatballs, cheese and a bit of salad? It is pretty good…"

"Getting bored of your rice cakes and grapefruit, eh Burt?" Andy teased lightly. "I don't blame you."

"Hey, does anyone want the rest of this pizza?" Mark pushed the mostly empty box away from him. "Tanya has bought stuff for a barbeque tonight, and I don't want to spoil my appetite."

"Don't even think about it, Dad," Kurt scolded, swatting at his hand. "It's not good for you. And you guys shouldn't try and tempt him." He looked around pointedly at the other men, finishing with Blaine and letting out a slightly annoyed sigh.

Blaine tried to eat the rest of his lunch as quickly as possible.

The next day, he ate decidedly more healthily.

"Cor, you're kept on a short leash, aren't you?" Andy laughed as Blaine set his hummus and pitta bread down on the counter.

"Excuse me?"

"Kurt's got you eating rabbit food too then? I swear that boy won't stop 'til we're all pooping lettuce!"

"Kurt didn't tell me to eat this."

"Riiight... Of course he didn't. He doesn't monitor everything that his Dad eats either..."

Carefully, Blaine leant in closer so that his boyfriend, who was out in the front talking to Burt, wouldn't over hear. "Listen Andy, Kurt is just trying to make sure that his dad isn't hospitalised again. Considering the percentage of people who have second heart attacks, I think it's fair enough that he wants to keep his cholesterol low. And as for me - hey, when you're dating someone as gorgeous as Kurt, you'll try and keep up as best you can."

There was an impressed snort from the corner and Blaine couldn't help but turn slightly crimson as Andy turned to Mark with something akin to betrayal in his eyes.

"What? You just got your ass handed to you by a seventeen year old - it was funny!"

"What was funny?" Kurt swung into the kitchen area, almost startling Blaine off of his stool.

"Err..."

"Mrs. Keene came in this morning and she said that her engine was making a strange

mewling noise. Well I told her…" Blaine mouthed a 'thank you' across to Mark who had launched into the story and saved him from umm-ing and ahh-ing like an idiot. Kurt pressed a kiss into his hairline before leaning back against him, allowing Blaine to wrap an arm around his trim waist and pull him closer.

Blaine caught Mark's small smile at the gesture.

Yeah, he definitely liked working here.

"I heard what you said earlier," Kurt announced randomly when they were in Blaine's car that evening. They didn't spend so much time at the Hummel-Hudson residence as of late, as Blaine liked to go home and take a long shower after work. He couldn't really justify spending all of his wages on gas for driving between Westerville and Lima four times a day, so instead Blaine would give Kurt a ride home whilst Burt stayed to close up.

Blaine very nearly crashed into the car in front of them at the lights. "Uhh…"

"Not all of it," Kurt continued, sounding just as cool as before his boyfriend had almost killed them, "Only the bit about you keeping up with me."

"Right… well…"

"I'm glad that you're eating healthily. Not that you need to change at all, but the body is a temple and all that…"

"Yeah, totally…"

"Do you really think I'm gorgeous?"

It took Blaine a second to process the question as he changed gear and pulled away from the crossroads, down towards Kurt's home. "Of course I do," he promised quietly. Kurt smiled.

Neither of them spoke again until they reached home, content just to pretend they weren't sneaking glances at each other and grinning bashfully when their eyes met.

"Do you want to come in?" Kurt said, hand hovering over his seatbelt as Blaine put the car in park.

"Yeah. I'd like that," Blaine answered, his voice cracking slightly. He killed the engine and clambered out, following Kurt up the driveway and into the house. Carefully, Kurt opened the door, gesturing for Blaine to stay quiet as he removed his shoes and listened out for any signs of his family.

Excluding Finn's gentle snores from the living room, the house was silent. The two boys smirked at each other and intertwined their slightly sweaty hands before making their way up the stairs, towards Kurt's room. They left the bedroom door wedged open by a few centimetres behind them (technically still obeying the rules that Burt had very firmly set down) and separated, Blaine settling back on the bed as Kurt hurriedly selected a playlist on his iPod, soft acoustic guitar drifting out of his speakers.

He turned back to face him, looking slightly apprehensive.

"Kurt, we don't have to... I don't…"

"Just shut up, Blaine." The slimmer boy surged forward and stilled his boyfriend's mouth with his own. "I want this," he murmured against his lips, before giving them a gentle nip.

Blaine wasn't going to argue with that. He allowed himself to be pushed back into the mattress, revelling in the warmth of Kurt's body on top of his own. They were both still slightly grimy and clammy, but neither of them cared as their breath intermingled and lips moved slowly together. He was pretty certain that he could stay here forever, their torsos pressed close, kissing softly and Kurt's hand ghosting down towards the hem of his t-shirt. Oh. His breathing hitched as long fingers drummed lightly across his stomach.

"Can I?" Kurt lifted his head away, glasz eyes searching across Blaine's features for the smallest sign of doubt at this new territory. He received only a swift and eager nod in response.

"You too though…" Blaine added. "Please." They both shifted so that they were sitting upright, regretting the space that this created between them. This was swiftly eradicated though as they both slowly began to peel off their t-shirts; eyes' roaming hungrily as more skin was exposed. The stretch and ripple of his slight muscles as Kurt pulled his top over his head was enough to drive Blaine wild. He discarded his own top before reaching out to grip lightly at Kurt's waist, thumbing over the smooth, porcelain skin there. "God, Kurt…" he managed to choke out, "You're so beautiful."

The slender countertenor blushed and lowered his gaze. "You too," he murmured before crawling into his boyfriend's lap and beginning to press open mouthed kisses along his collar bone. Blaine let out a shuddering gasp which shook both of their bodies as they gradually became dirtier and deeper, Kurt moaning around his flesh as he nipped and licked and adored the olive skin beneath his lips.

Those lips. Blaine could spend his entire life worshipping those lips. They deserved to have odes written about them or statues built in their honour. They deserved their own fucking theme park or something. And Blaine would so do that. He would write songs and builds hit and all that kind of stuff… just as soon as he stopped melting beneath them, which he secretly hoped he never would.

Unfortunately, he could always rely on the universe to be a cockblock. A loud crash echoed from downstairs and Kurt pulled away from him with a wet slurp (which really put the final nail in the coffin when it came to mood killing) and cocked his head curiously.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered, his voice slightly rough and lips glistening with saliva. Given the potential seriousness of the situation, Blaine should really not have been as turned on by that as he was but hell… "Oh my God, what if it was a burglar? Oh my God, Blaine, we're being burgled! Shit! And Finn's down there! Shit, Blaine, do something!"

"Wait, what?"

"Blaaaaaaine!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Go down and stop him or something! And put on a shirt! I'm going to get my Dad's bat from their room…"

For some reason, he was far from comforted that Burt Hummel slept with a heavy weapon, useful as it may be right then. Keeping an eye on the door which his boyfriend had just creeped out of, he hurriedly tried to pull his abandoned t-shirt back on, only getting slightly tangled.

"What's the plan then?" Blaine hissed as Kurt reappeared, wielding a large, wooden baseball bat, and still decidedly half naked.

"Right, you go down first and get his attention, and then I leap in and knock him out." Kurt's words were punctuated by a loud groan echoing around the house and both boys' eyes widened with fear. "Crap, Blaine, what if there is more than one of them?"

"Shouldn't we call the cops?"

"No time!" Kurt shook his head desperately, "Finn's down there! We'll just… improvise…"

"Shit…" Blaine tried to run his hand through his hair but was met with firm resistance from a mixture of gel and grime – not exactly a pleasant feeling, but also not his focus right now. In front of him, Kurt snatched up his own top from the bed, wrapping it around his hand firmly before nodding at the door. Taking a deep breath, in a failed attempt to calm his pounding heart, he led the way out into the hallway.

Slowly, and trying to be as quiet as physically possible, they made their way down the stairs. Blaine peered about cautiously – there was no one in sight.

"Lounge?" he mouthed up to Kurt who gave a quick nod in response and tightened his grip around the bat before they moved on.

"Wait…" Kurt hissed, "Your shirt's inside out."

Blaine turned to him in disbelief. 'Really? Now was the time to be fashion conscious?' He shook his head to show he didn't care before shuffling further forwards, edging carefully into the living room.

Strange – here was empty too. Well apart from a snuffling Finn who was sprawled across the sofa with his broken arm up at an awkward angle on the neighbouring coffee table… which should really have had a vase sitting on it?

"Crap!" Kurt yelled, all premise of hush flying out the window in his frustration, "That was Carole's favourite! Stupid, clumsy, oaf of a boy…" he shoved his weapon into Blaine's hands as he moved around him to inspect the damage. Sure enough, surrounded by a puddle of water and a few gerbera daisies, was Carole's antique vase, smashed into hundreds of tiny ceramic shards. Finn must have certainly hit it with some force, even whilst asleep ('how the hell had he slept through that crash?') although the cast probably aided in the destruction. Kurt poked his stepbrother viciously in the ribs. "Finn! Finn wake up!"

Finn merely mumbled something incomprehensible and snuggled deeper into the settee cushions.

"Blaine, give me the bat."

"Kurt, he is injured already…"

"Just give me the bat!" Wincing slightly, Blaine handed it across to his glowering boyfriend, who then proceeded to prod Finn with it. Hard.

"Whaa'?"

"Sorry, did we disturb you Finn?" Kurt's voice was sickly sweet, but you would have to be a fool to miss the underlying anger there. And obtuse as he might be sometimes, Finn wasn't a fool.

"Why are you getting all pissy at me?" He grumbled as he reached up to rub blearily at his eyes. "I was asleep!"

"I know! And while you were asleep, you punched your mum's vase with that stupid cast! It's destroyed!"

The taller boy visibly paled. "Shit… Wait… why are you half naked?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Because, Finn, we thought we were being burgled. Here, hold this," he thrust the bat at him unceremoniously. "And try not to break anything." He unwadded his old 'Hummel Tire's and Lube' shirt and hastily pulled it on over his head.

That was then they heard the sound of keys turning in the front door and Blaine let out a little groan. As if this couldn't get much more awkward.

"Boys!" Burt called from the hallway, "I'm home!"

"We're in the living room, Dad," Kurt said loudly, looking very pointedly at Finn as if to say 'do not mention my former state of undress and we will attempt to cover for you.'

It wasn't necessary however. Burt could tell as soon as he stepped in that something very suspicious was going on – Blaine could see it on his face as he took in Kurt and his rumpled appearance, Finn's guilty shifting and the pool of water with broken vase in it which sat at the foot of his settee.

"Right," he sighed wearily, "Let's start with the baseball bat, shall we?"

A/N: Please let me know what you think. I'll try and update ASAP, but I wouldn't hold your breath.