A/N- I've had a few people asking about Blaine and his past. All I will say is please keep reading, it will all become clear soon. Thanks for your reviews so far :)
The first thing Blaine notices on waking is warmth. The second is a pair of strong arms holding him tightly. The third is Kurt's soft, pliant, sleeping form curled around his back. His instinct is to leap up and run to the other end of the apartment, to bluff his way through a vague excuse for having woken up early when Kurt eventually rises.
But then Kurt snuffles in his sleep, pressing his face against Blaine's back and tightening his arms around him, and Blaine is trapped. He thinks about waking him...but something makes him stop. Those arms, so sure and steadfast, provide comfort and reassurance and make Blaine feel wanted, needed. As though no matter what the world may choose to throw at him, someone has a hold of him and will never let go. Blaine allows two tears to roll down his face onto the pillow as he realizes that nobody has ever held him this way. He's experienced hugs of course, both giving and receiving, with Cooper, Kurt and Finn, and Carole and Burt always have arms open to welcome him. But this, this feeling of really being held, of having someone need you as much as you need them, makes Blaine long for it everyday of his life.
So he doesn't run. He relaxes- as best he can- tracing gentle, lazy patterns along Kurt's forearm and revelling in the way their chests move together as they breathe. He's thankful Kurt isn't shirtless, he knows that would be all too much, but he secretly loves the look of Kurt's long pale fingers splayed out over his own chest, the olive tone and dark hair providing a stark contrast. It's when Kurt moves closer still that Blaine has to get up. He knows it's perfectly natural for men to wake with erections, but when one suddenly pushes into your ass crack, it's somewhat strange and leaves Blaine finding it hard to breathe. He shuffles, trying to extricate himself without waking Kurt, but his eyes flutter open and Blaine misses the contented smile on his face.
"Mornin', he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. Blaine freezes as Kurt places a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just behind his ear. He still hasn't looked at him, doesn't dare to now.
"Uh... It's me," is all Blaine can say, feeling hurt as he realizes this is probably how Kurt wakes every morning, and has clearly mistaken Blaine's identity.
"I know it's you Blaine. I'm saying good morning. It feels good to wake cuddled up to someone for a change."
"Someone...you mean you don't usually?" And now he has to turn and face him, because in all honesty he's shocked. But shit. He looks so beautiful. Hair thrown in different directions, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling...he actually looks happy. And Blaine can imagine him all too well lying flushed and panting in his bed, lost in the afterglow of sex. He lets out a small whimper as he bites his lip- making Kurt eye him curiously.
"No. Um...Ian sleeps in the guest room during the week, he has to be up early for work. And then at the weekends I guess we're not used to being in the same bed as another person so...so we just stay apart."
"You made your fiancé sleep in the spare room? Wow."
"I didn't make him, it was his choice. He gets up at 5. I'm not about to do that so he decided to sleep in there so he didn't disturb me. I thought it sweet at the time. But now I've just said it out loud it sounds strange, doesn't it?"
"It does a bit...if I was hopelessly in love with someone I think I'd want them in my arms every night, but hey- lots of couples have separate bedrooms. It's whatever works for you, right?"
"Well clearly it didn't work." Kurt states, though there is a soft smile rather than venom behind his words.
"Lisa and I had separate rooms, towards the end." Blaine admits quietly as he hugs his pillow.
"Did you miss holding her?"
"No. I used to lie there wishing she'd get off my fucking arm because it was turning numb. Once she was asleep I would turn over and face the other way."
"You didn't do that last night."
"No."
They both let that hang there for a while- the realization that they both slept peacefully in each others arms all night slowly dawning on them before Kurt decides to change the subject.
"So, we should get up. You need to pack, and I guess I better go home and get my stuff."
"And call your dad."
"Can't you?"
"No! Kurt you're gonna need to talk to him at some point. Better now than in three weeks time, when he'll be mad and hurt that you haven't contacted him. Call him now. I'll go fix us some breakfast."
Kurt sighs and picks up his phone, annoyed that Blaine is always so sensible...and right. Burt answers on the second ring, the relief in his voice evident as he questions Kurt about his whereabouts.
"I'm at Blaine's."
"Well that's good. He just sent a vague text yesterday saying you wanted to be left alone."
"I did... I do."
"I know. Listen, I've been thinking. Why don't you come back to Lima for a while? I know you..."
"Dad..."
"No, hear me out. I know it's not your favorite place in the world, but you would be home. We can..."
"Dad, please..."
"Me and Carole, we can take care of you. Help you back on your feet. Give Ian time to work out what he wants to do..."
"Dad!" Kurt snaps, "I'm not going back to Lima. I know you and Carole are well meaning, but honestly it's just not what I need right now."
"Well what do you need?" Burt asks gruffly, trying to disguise his hurt. "It's been two years since you came home."
"That's because it's not my home dad. It's a dead end town with no hope or acceptance, and a place which only brings bad memories to mind. I don't need that."
"But it's where your parents live Kurt. Finn and Rachel visit all the time."
"Good for them."
"Kurt, why do we always end up arguing nowadays?"
"We don't. I'm not arguing. I'm telling you, I am not going to Lima. I'm going on my honeymoon."
There is a long silence and then, "On your own?"
"With Blaine."
"Oh. Well, I suppose that's better than you going alone. Can't say I like the thought of that. But what am I supposed to tell Ian if he tries to find you?"
"Tell him where I am, I don't care. But I don't think he will be contacting you."
"He might. Y'know he might just need some time to work through all this and then want to be with you again and you're living it up in France or whatever with your best buddy."
"Has it ever occurred to you that I might not want him back?" Kurt snaps angrily, raking his fingers through his hair in annoyance. "Do you all think I'm so weak, so pathetic that I would be sitting around waiting for him to come pick me up again? He dumped me on our wedding day. While I was dressing in my tux and coiffing my hair, that low life son of a bitch was packing every last item he owns and sneaking out of the apartment. He didn't even have the balls to leave a note. Do you think Kurt Hummel is gonna put up with such a spineless bastard? Cause the answer, I can tell you, is no."
"Okay buddy. I'm sorry." Burt says sadly. "You're right. You're better than that. I just... I was just trying to help, that's all."
"Well you're really not."
"No, I guess not. Just...enjoy the trip okay? It will be nice for you and Blaine to spend some time together, and he could use the break too."
"Yeah."
"Could you... Can I ask you to just send a text or something occasionally, just to let us know you're both safe?"
"Oh for..." Kurt starts, but then Blaine appears in the bedroom doorway and he looks so sad that he aquicises. "Yeah, I guess I can do that. I'm sure Blaine will remind me."
"I love you Kurt."
"Yeah...love you."
Kurt hangs up and looks to the doorway in time to catch Blaine walking away. "What?"
Stopping in the hall, Blaine turns to him, the disappointment evident in his voice as he speaks. "I just wish you wouldn't talk to him like that, that's all. Burt is the greatest man I know. Not everyone is blessed with a dad like that."
Kurt huffs in annoyance and follows him to the kitchen. "They're always interfering. Him, Carole, Finn...and especially Rachel."
"They love you Kurt. Why is that so hard to understand? If people seem interfering it's only because they love you enough to be concerned for your welfare."
"Even you?"
Blaine stops chopping fruit and looks to Kurt shyly, and for a second his breath is taken away as he sees a sixteen year old Blaine asking him to dance at prom.
"Even me."
"Why so many layers?" Blaine laughs as Kurt slides into the backseat of Cooper's car.
"We're going to England."
"It's July."
"Trust me Mr. Shorts and t-shirt, you'll envy me when we land."
"Whatever. I'll get your bags then shall I?" Blaine asks incredulously as Kurt flips open his phone, leaving his suitcase and carry on standing on the sidewalk.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, thanks." Kurt murmurs without looking up.
Slamming the trunk, Blaine climbs in next to Cooper who gives him a knowing look. "Good luck dude, you're gonna need it."
"So what's the schedule then?" Blaine asks as Cooper drives away.
"London for three days, then Monaco."
"I've never been there."
"Neither have I, should be interesting. Then we drive to Bordeaux, or just outside. I rented a little cottage in the countryside. It looked quite quaint on the website. Then we have the last weekend in Paris before we fly home." Blaine nods and hands his passport to the check in clerk. "There's just one thing..." Kurt continues. "Obviously, it was supposed to be a honeymoon. So um...I booked the honeymoon suites in the hotels. Meaning one room."
"And one bed."
"Yes."
"O-Kay," Blaine says slowly.
"We don't have to...y'know...sleep like we did last night. I don't want your arm going numb." He smiles coyly making Blaine's stomach swoop.
"It didn't."
"But I mean we could always ask if there's any other rooms available if..."
"Kurt, it's fine. Really. I'm more than happy to sleep with you," he blurts, reddening when the check in clerk laughs out loud. "I mean..."
"I know what you meant." Kurt says as he hands his own passport over. "Straight," he says to the clerk, nodding in Blaine's direction. "The cottage has three rooms though, so we don't have to share then."
"Are you telling me, or him?" the clerk asks as Kurt snatches his passport back.
Kurt sleeps fitfully during the flight while Blaine tries to focus on the movie. It is only when Blaine tires of his restlessness and pulls him against his side that Kurt finally settles, but all too soon they are coming into land and Blaine finds himself missing Kurt's warmth in more ways than one.
"It's freezing!" he moans, bowing his head against the drizzle as they walk towards a waiting car.
"Told you." Kurt says as he zips his parka up smugly. "This is a typical British summer. Overcast and cold."
"Great. Last time I visited it was fall, and ridiculously warm."
"The hotel has a spa, I'm thinking hot tub and champagne, what about you?"
Taken completely aback, Blaine stammers and stutters, mentions something about possibly needing a nap then turns to look at the tower blocks quizzing by as they head into the city.
"Welcome, Mr. and Mr. Hummel. Congratulations on your nuptials!" the cheery receptionist greets them on their arrival.
"Oh, no, we're not..."
"Welcome to the Grosvenor," he ploughs on, "We trust you will find everything to your satisfaction and please don't hesitate to let us know if there's anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable."
"We're not..." Blaine tries again, but this time it's Kurt cutting him off.
"Thank you," he says, taking the key cards and following the porter and their luggage towards the elevator.
"They think we're married now!" Blaine huffs out as the doors close.
"So?"
"So? So we're not! And you did nothing to correct him."
"What does it matter? He's some random Londoner who we'll probably never see again." Kurt can feel his annoyance growing as they enter the room, and he knows the enormous bouquet of flowers and bottle of champagne will do nothing to brighten either of their moods.
"It matters because we are not married!" There is a moment when Blaine wonders why he's yelling, why he's letting himself get so worked up about this, but the words are out there and he can see Kurt advancing toward him, eyes like fire, and there's no going back.
"What is your problem Blaine? Seriously, am I that repulsive? Is the idea of being married to me that abhorrent that you want me to correct everyone we encounter in the next three weeks? You know why our friendship has always worked? Because you've never been one of those jackass straight guys who won't be friends with a gay guy just in case someone thinks they're together. It's never bothered you at all. So what? Now you've not got a wife to prove your manly straightness and I'm single you're suddenly icked out like a third grader? Nice. I wish I'd known that before we flew halfway around the world together."
"No! Kurt you're very wrong. You know I don't think that about you at all."
"I don't know anything anymore."
"Oh if only you knew Kurt." Blaine says, then tries to distract from what he's just said by rummaging in his suitcase.
"What? What does that even mean Blaine?" Standing in the middle of the room, hands on hips and seething, Kurt struggles to make sense of this sudden argument. All he knows is it's upsetting him, and he finds himself wishing he could fall into Blaine's embrace and stay there until they were friends again.
"Nothing." Blaine snaps. "I'm going to find the pool. I'll catch up with you later."
"Blaine..." And Kurt is further stunned by how desperately he doesn't want him to leave the room.
"I just need to be on my own awhile." Blaine says with a tinge of regret before he closes the door softly.
He's back an hour later, and feels a pang in his heart as he sees Kurt curled up in the middle of the enormous bed.
"Hey."
"Hey. Good swim?"
"It was okay. I'm just gonna take a shower. Then we could go down to the restaurant if you want?"
"It's eleven o'clock Blaine, they won't be serving."
"Oh. Right." He stands there awkwardly, wanting to make it better but not knowing how.
"I could order room service if you want, while you shower?"
"Yeah, that sounds...I'm sorry Kurt."
Sitting up in the bed, Kurt offers a trembling smile. "It's okay."
"No it's not. I overreacted and I'm sorry. Shit, are you crying? Did I make you cry?" He hurries to the bed and takes Kurt's hands in his without hesitation, filled with guilt and remorse.
"No...well maybe a bit. But it's just...everything. I was just lying here trying to work out why I'm such a bitch."
"You're not!"
"I am. You know I am. And maybe that's why he left, I don't know. And I don't know if I want to find out, but I do know that I'd like to be more like I used to be."
"My Kurt?" Blaine says, almost inaudibly, but suddenly it's as if all air has been sucked from the room as Kurt's hands find his face and he presses their foreheads together. Every tiny fleck of color is visible as they gaze into each others eyes, and Blaine cannot stop staring as he watches Kurt's pupils dilate.
"Your Kurt," comes the whispered reply and Blaine's eyelids flutter shut as Kurts warm breath fans his face. It would be so easy to kiss him now, to surge forward and claim those lips for his own, as he has been so desperate to do for so long, but he pulls back reluctantly, clearing his throat and walking to the bathroom.
"I'll just...yeah. Order whatever you want."
"'Kay. Friends?" Kurt asks with a tentative smile in his direction.
"Always."
Blaine closes the bathroom door and leans against it heavily, fighting the tears that are pushing insistently behind his eyes. Stumbling almost blindly towards the shower, he turns it to a scalding temperature before stepping under the spray. He rubs vigorously at his body, desperately trying to rid himself of this guilt. His hand finds his cock and he moans before letting a small sob escape his lips. Working himself over frantically, he tries to block any images of Kurt, but he's everywhere. Was it really only this morning he had woken in his arms, seen and felt the mesmerising way in which their bodies fit together? And oh, the feel of Kurt's hard cock pushing against his ass. So firm, ready and waiting to be stroked, sucked. Blaine cries out as his mind brings forth an image of Kurt kneeling on the tiled floor, sinking that perfect mouth around him and he's coming hard, forehead pressed against the cool tiles as he shudders his release and watches the water chase it away.
As ever, the immediate guilt that follows is overwhelming, pressing so heavily on his shoulders that he falls to the floor and lets the tears come. "Kurt," he moans brokenly between sobs. "My Kurt."