A/N: Not much to say here for this one. It's basically shameless fluff with a bit of plot. I'm still trying to figure out how to set it all up, so for now I'm just writing what I feel.
!Ok, so here's what you need to know for this chapter. Rachel is single, Finn is still broken up with Quinn, and Quinn is still broken up with Sam.
Kurt swayed rhythmically in the back of the room as Rachel belted out one of her numerous solos, the usual emotional tears glinting in her eyes and spilling over dramatically. Most of what he sang consisted of 'ahs' and 'da da das', so a glee practice never went by without some form of envy directed towards the dark haired girl. In that moment, Kurt was feeling particularly jealous, especially because the song Rachel was singing was one of his all time favorites from Le Miserables. He used to sing 'On My Own' every night in the shower; granted, it was his go-to self pity song during the friendship phase with Blaine, but he still loved the way his voice sounded when he sang it. The notes would echo off the tiles just so, and all of his problems and stresses from the day would melt away. The deep rooted connection between him and that song was too strong to simply let go of.
So it was perfectly understandable that Kurt began to imagine Rachel choking to death on her own tears. At least, he thought it was.
"I love him…I love him…I love him…But only on my own." Rachel's voice fell into a gradual decrescendo, the fluid sound seeping from the air of the room and condensing until it was no more than a breathy whisper. Kurt felt awed chills rush up and down his spine; just because he was jealous didn't mean he couldn't appreciate true talent when he saw it. Rachel bowed her head and gave a meek smile to Mr. Schue before she sat back down among the rest of her group mates.
Kurt thought her behavior unusual before he caught a glimpse of her gazing longingly at Finn from across the room. Ah, that's what's wrong with her.
His heart, hardened by years of blatant peer abuse, softened a little at the sight of her sorrow. He too had felt the feeling of wanting what you couldn't have; it was miserable, and with an overly dramatic girl like Rachel, it had to be pure hell.
Kurt pondered this one day after taekwondo practice. After showering and moisturizing he plopped down on the couch next to Blaine and laid his head down in his boyfriend's lap, staring up at the boy he loved inquisitively. Blaine tangled his fingers in Kurt's damp hair and massaged his scalp lightly before noticing Kurt's incessant staring.
"What is it?"
"I have a proposition for you." Kurt replied as he relaxed in Blaine's hands. "And that feels really good by the way."
Blaine's eyes crinkled into a smile and he chuckled. "You're welcome. What's the proposition?"
"I was thinking of throwing a party and inviting everyone from glee. At my house, of course, I know how you don't really like yours. I could send my dad and Carol on a trip, and then we could decorate the whole main floor with lights and candles and make the place beautiful…and of course Puckerman would bring some sort of alcohol or something but it would be fine because everybody could sleep over and then in the morning I could make French omletes or crepes and it would be perfect. You can invite Wes and David or anyone from the Warblers and we can do karaoke. What do you say?"
Blaine cocked his head to the side, contemplation flashing across his features.
"Sure, that sounds like a great idea. But…"
"But?"
"What brought this on?" Blaine asked. His inflection wasn't accusatory or conspiratorial; he was just curious. "You've never wanted to do this kind of thing before."
"Well, if you really want to know…" Kurt started, twiddling his thumbs together. "I do actually have an ulterior motive. What would you say if I asked you to be my partner in matchmaking?"
Blaine's eyebrows furrowed together confusedly. "What?"
"I want to get Rachel and Finn back together. I know, it's crazy, but lately she's just been so miserable and lonely and it makes me depressed to look at her. Since Finn is no longer dating Quinn, I was thinking that during the party we could, I dunno, guide the two back into each other's arms." Kurt paused and waited for an answer from Blaine, but there was none. "It's—it's stupid. Never mind, I shouldn't be meddling—"
"When did you become such a hopeless romantic like me?" Blaine interrupted him, love filling his eyes as he framed Kurt's face with his hands.
"Hey, it's not my fault I turned out this way. I used to be cynical and somewhat bitchy before I met you." Kurt laughed, placing his hand over the ones cupping his cheeks.
"Unbelievable. I refuse to believe that."
"Well it's true. Because of you, I now have a heart. And that heart is telling me that it doesn't want Rachel to end up how I was: Alone and cold. Of all people, it just…it just can't happen to her."
Blaine stared down at Kurt with an emotion he couldn't decipher.
"I mean, I know I act like I hate her sometimes but, Blaine, she's like the rock that holds glee club together. She has so much drive and hope…I don't want her to lose all of that, you know?"
"Yeah…yeah I know." Blaine murmured, still staring at Kurt with the same expression. He brushed his thumb across the curve of Kurt's cheekbone idly before bending down to press his forehead to Kurt's, taking a deep breath to capture to scent of the boy in his lap and keep it forever. After a moment, Blaine tilted his head and placed a long, tender kiss to Kurt's parted lips, experiencing an emotion he'd never stopped long enough to appreciate in its fullness. A glowing warmth bloomed in his chest and crept its way up to his throat, cutting off his speech as it literally drowned him in happiness, and after their lips separated he just stayed there bent over Kurt, breathing him in, content to remain in that position for the rest the evening, maybe even the rest of his life.
Later that evening when Burt returned home from the garage he found the two boys fast asleep on the sofa, entwined in each other's arms, the credits of Phantom of the Opera rolling up past the edges of the blackened screen.
Two days later, Kurt was balancing tip toed on a chair, trying to string up the last of the Christmas lights along the edges of the ceiling.
"Blaine? Blaine can you get me some more tape? I'm all out." Kurt asked frantically, his eyes still locked on the cord hanging precariously in front of him.
"Kurt, baby, these are your friends. You don't have to try to impress them." Blaine's voice came from behind him. Kurt grabbed the roll of tape and tore a piece off with his teeth, securing the section in place. "Blaine, I couldn't care less about impressing them; I just need this to be perfect." He bit his lip thoughtfully as he surveyed the room, appreciating the hours of work he put in to achieve the immaculate vision that now was his main floor. Eventually he stepped down from his perch, mere seconds passing before he felt Blaine's arms snake around his waist from behind, pulling him against his chest.
"You did an amazing job. It looks lovely and romantic and our devious little plan is so going to work."
"It does, doesn't it…? Look romantic? It sort of reminds me of a French bistro."
"Speaking of French, can I show you the pièce de résistance?" Blaine did a miniature drum roll on Kurt's stomach with his fingers before detaching himself and strolled over to the far wall where the dial for the regular lights rested. He dimmed them gradually until shadows stretched out from corners like wispy, beckoning fingers. Then he sauntered away to grab the cord to the Christmas lights, holding the end in his hands and waggling his eyebrows teasingly at Kurt before forcing the prongs through the waiting socket.
Kurt stared in wonder as the darkness illuminated with the bright, sparkling orbs, throwing their own individual crescents of light down the length of the walls in tiny, cylindrical pillars of white and gold. A painfully wide smile overtook Kurt's awed face.
"I love it! I love it I love it I love it ohmygod I love it! Blaaaine…Blaine, it's so pretty…" Kurt giggled like an excited schoolgirl and dashed over to his boyfriend, pulling him in for a quick—but still very passionate—kiss. Blaine's arms reached up to trap the boy against him, but Kurt out maneuvered him and bounded away to inspect the rest of the house, leaving Blaine standing alone and slightly flustered. He could hear Kurt squealing from down the hallway and he looked around at the sight before him, drinking it all in.
The living room alone was spectacular; simply standing there reminded Blaine of being wrapped in a blanket, or sitting by a toasty fire, or drinking a cup of coffee, or…basically anything warm. That's what it was; it was warm and the atmosphere was entrancing. Soon, he began to smell the heady scent of vanilla wafting through the air around him and he turned to see Kurt blowing out a burnt match above a now burning scented candle.
"Vanilla?" Blaine asked casually, making his way over to Kurt's side, enjoying the way the light of the flame flickered around the boy's eyes.
"Yeah…why, is it too much? It's too much, isn't it?" Kurt's excitement briefly contorted into panic.
"No no no it's not. I like it." Blaine assured him, pulling Kurt against him and nuzzling his nose into Kurt's hair. "Mmm, but I like the way you smell better."
"Blaine." Kurt said flatly, though his hands were beginning to slide their way up the shorter boy's torso. "Our guests are arriving in ten minutes. Don't even think about it."
"…'s you're fault." Blaine muttered into Kurt's neck. "…shouldn't have kissed me like that…"
"Jeez," Kurt groaned, half annoyed and half turned on. "Puck hasn't even arrived with the booze and you're already so handsy. What am I going to do with you?"
Blaine snickered against the skin of Kurt's throat and slid his hands greedily into the back pockets of Kurt's ridiculously tight designer jeans. "I can think of a lot of things you could do with me."
"Blaine," Kurt tried to growl, but his voice broke and squeaked. "Now is not the time, they're coming in ten minutes—"
But Kurt's stubborn rebuke was cut off as Blaine's lips crushed hungrily against his. Blaine's hands gripped roughly through Kurt's pants as he yanked their hips together to create that delicious friction, and Kurt's attempts at reasoning were all but eliminated.
"Y-you're so lucky that—ah—my parents are at the Hilton right now because we would—guh—be dead if my Dad walked in and just—" But his babbling was cut off by yet another heated kiss, his lips parting invitingly as Blaine's tongue swept across them, the shorter boy's hands moving up to clutch Kurt's lower back and to tangle in his hair. Normally, Kurt would protest at the threat of messing up his perfect coif, but something about the entire atmosphere seemed hypnotizing and heavy and…and sexy. The low lighting, the night outside, the smell of the candles—it was a cocoon of sensory overload. No wonder Blaine was like he was—he'd just felt the mood before Kurt had the chance to come down from his post-decorating high.
"Crap…" Kurt sighed as he came up for breath.
"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, his voice still husky as he pulled back up to meet Kurt's eyes. Kurt appraised his boyfriend with a pleased smile, seeing as Blaine's lips were somewhat red and swollen and his pupils were blown out with lust.
"Do you realize what I've inadvertently done by using this decorum? Look at what it's done to you; you're so horny you can't even speak right. Now imagine what it's going to be like with a hoard of half-drunken teenagers in here. I'm going to have a sex riot on my hands."
Blaine shrugged, obviously not as concerned—or coherent enough to care—as Kurt seemed to be. "Don't worry; they're just glee kids. How bad can they be?"
Kurt was about to start laughing hysterically, but the sharp chiming of the doorbell sounded from the foyer and the bubbly feeling caught in his throat. The nervous-host syndrome kicked in and he raced to the door with Blaine in tow, pausing to smooth down his hair before yanking the door open.
"Whas-sup Hummel?"
Kurt stared at the sight before him, taking in the buzzed, slouched over forms of Puckerman and Lauren on his doorstep, both holding what looked to be a keg of Heineken . Puck grinned dopily up at Kurt and Blaine, throwing his muscular arm around Lauren before taking the few, teetering steps needed to get through the threshold of the door.
"Whoa dude yer house is—it's so cool 'n stuff—" Puck slurred unashamedly as he stumbled into the hallway, heading back to the kitchen where he could stick the large container of alcohol.
Kurt followed warily, keeping his hand on Blaine's who had finally been shocked out of his lusty daze.
He's—he's already wasted?" Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear as they trailed the happy couple into the living room where they promptly crashed onto the couch and started giggling hysterically. Kurt and Blaine stood a safe distance away and gaped openly.
"I guess so. That was quick." Kurt replied quietly.
Soon afterward the doorbell rang again and Mercedes, Brittany, Santana, Tina, Mike, Artie and Sam piled in, luckily all completely sober. After getting settled into the living room, Kurt and Blaine answered the door to Quinn, who seemed to have driven there by herself, and Rachel who followed close behind after being dropped off by her dads.
Just as they were about to shut the door, however, Kurt heard a friendly shout from the dark street and turned to see his two old Dalton friends, Wes and David, walking up the driveway. Blaine's face lit up in a smile and he pulled the two into a bro-hug, clapping them on the shoulders as they entered the party. Kurt warmed internally as he watched Blaine interact with his best friends; he seemed so happy. Finally, Kurt shut the door and went over to the stereo system mounted on the wall of the living room and turned on the radio, surrendering the choice of channel to the glee kids who fought over Top Twenty versus Eighties Hits.
As everyone helped themselves to soda and beer, Blaine pulled Kurt over to the side.
"Um, where's Finn? Cuz I don't think our plan will work without him."
"Oh my god, wow I completely forgot about him." Kurt said, smacking his forehead. "He said this morning he would be over at Puck's house—"
But as soon as Kurt began he heard the front door burst open and angry footsteps pound through the hallway. Finn's agitated figure rounded the corner, his eyes sweeping the crowd of teenagers until they found their mark.
"Puck! Dude! I told you to wait for me, man!" He yelled across the room at the mohawked boy. Puck turned lazily in his seat as he heard his name called and took in Finn's bristling irritation.
"Speak of the devil…" Kurt whispered to Blaine as he looked over his step-brother, happily discovering that Finn was still completely alert.
"Heyyy! Hudson, howssit going! Ohmygod did I forget about you? Dude, I'm s-so sorry, I guess you were takin' a piss an' we just sorda left—L-Lauren, did you know we accidentally left Finn a-at my place? Jeez…"
"Yeah, thanks a lot for that. I had to ask your mom for a ride, Puck! What the hell?" Finn dragged a heavy hand through his hair. "And I can't believe you drove here in my car! You could have gotten yourself killed. You could have wrecked! You know how much time me and Burt put into that thing to get it running? You're like the crappiest drunk friend ever, dude. Ever."
Kurt decided to step in at this point, seeing as the house had gotten uncomfortably quiet. He put a hand on Finn's arm and led him into the empty kitchen.
"Hey, hey calm down, nothing bad happened. Just relax and have fun, okay?" Kurt said soothingly, patting Finn's shoulder. Finn let out a tense sigh and nodded, but the frustrated furrow of his brow never lifted. Instead, he just frowned in Puck's direction and turned away to get a non-alcoholic soda, joining the rest of the group a minute after and sitting silently on one of the pulled up chairs.
Kurt stared worriedly as the conversations picked up again to their normal volume, noticing how once in a while Rachel would send sad, lingering glances over in the quarterback's direction. Finn seemed intent on not having a good time, avoiding social interaction at all costs, not even noticing when Brittany decided it would be fun to give out free hugs and lap dances.
As his lips pulled sullenly downwards, Kurt ambled back into the kitchen and grabbed himself a Ginger Ale, suddenly not in the mood to get buzzed. Getting Rachel and Finn back together would be loads harder than he originally anticipated.
Blaine's POV:
Getting Mercedes to spill Kurt's secrets was incredibly easy when the girl was loosened up with a bit of booze; Blaine didn't know why he hadn't thought of it sooner. He sat on one of the ottomans across from her and listened as she rambled on and on about a multitude of things regarding his boyfriend, like how Kurt was most ticklish around the back of his neck, how he loved baby blue scarves with a burning passion, how he aspired to become a fashion designer and sing on Broadway, that he had a expansive collection of Vogue magazines lining a hidden shelf in his room—but Blaine already knew all of these things. He tuned out of the conversation a bit at first, but after Mercedes downed the first glass, certain things she said began to peak his interest.
"And boy, I dunno how many times I have to listen to him say this, but he loovves it when you don't gel your curly little hair. Did you know that? He says it all the time, all the time! He says to me, 'Cedes, you know how damn sexy Blaine is when he lets his hair go? I jus' wanna jump his bones sometimes.' And—and I say, 'Well, Kurt, why dontchu?' And he jus' smiles and blushes and ohmygoodness Blaine Anderson, you scored the most adorable guy ever!"
"Did…did he really say that?" Blaine asked, his eyes wide with excitement and surprise. He touched the hardened gel currently in his hair, trying to imagine what Kurt's reaction would be if he did indeed let it go natural when he was around.
"Every word, baby! Ooh—let me let you in on a little secret!" She squealed, leaning towards Blaine as if she was telling him something highly confidential. "He has a thing for when you wear just a white tank top and skinny jeans."
"Seriously? You mean, like an undershirt tank? Like a wife beater?"
"Yuuup."
"Wow…" Blaine breathed, turning away from Mercedes who had broken out into random laughter. A faint smile breached his lips and he began scheming like no tomorrow.
Kurt's POV
"Okaaay! Listen up!" Rachel shouted, swaying slightly as she stood up regally on the couch. "'S time for spin the boddle! 'S gonna be a tradition—we're gonna do this at every party! Okay?" She flourished her arms grandly, making Kurt cringe as the beer in her hand threatened to slosh over the edge of her cup.
"Rachel, we don't have any beer bottles. Puckerman brought a keg." Kurt said, willing her to get down from the couch without tipping over. Rachel looked immediately downtrodden.
"Wait-wait-wait! I have some empty boddles!" Puck yelled, even though the room was mostly quiet. "Lauren an' I got a six pack b-before the party…there's some empties in my car, lemme go get 'em."
A minute later, Puck returned with a few of the empty Budweiser's, dumping them on the floor. The rest of the group congregated in a circle around the pile; Kurt wedged himself between David and Mercedes, leaning into the middle and taking out the extra bottles until they were left with only one in the center. As he took his seat again, his eyes scanned to circle to find that Blaine wasn't there.
"'Cedes, have you seen Blaine?" Kurt asked, eyeing his friend with concern as she seemed to be smiling dazedly at the bottle in the center.
"Wha? Blaine. Nah, I haven't. He's probably in the bathroom, honey, don't worry."
"Kay, everybody shuddup!" Rachel barked shrilly, leaning forward and giving the bottle a good spin. It rotated around for a minute before landing on Mike Chang. They gave each other a quick peck, ignoring the loud catcalls from the rest of the glee kids, and sat back down in their spots. Mike spent the next minute consoling a drunk Tina, telling her that he loved her over and over and that it was only a game.
And so it went on in basically the same fashion until everyone in the circle had gone, including Kurt who had landed on Brittany. In a way he'd been relieved; at least it hadn't landed on one of the guys or Santana. That would have been awkward.
"God, where is he?" Kurt wondered aloud as the cycle started again, this time with Rachel landing on Artie. The whooping noises drowned out any sound of Blaine's approach, so Kurt did not hear him as he made his way up the basement stairs and to the entrance of the living room. Kurt was too intent on the game to notice as Blaine leaned casually against the wall, watching the proceedings with an aloof interest. Only until Mercedes yelled, "Hey Warbler boy, get your little hobbit ass over here!" did Kurt look up from the circle.
His breath caught unceremoniously in his throat.
Blaine was propped up against the far wall, his hands hidden inside the pockets of a pair of sinfully tight black skinny jeans. The toned muscle of his chest pulled ever so slightly at the thin fabric of a plain, white tank top, and the soft, worn cotton bunched at the bottom in a way that showed a sliver of skin around his middle, peeking out just above the waistband of his jeans. It was only then that Kurt realized those were his own clothes and that Blaine was wearing them, and simply that reason was enough to send his mind flurrying.
Kurt's eyes trailed up the boy's body to rest on the area of his face, his jaw dropping open as he took in the messy-on-purpose bundle of curls that twirled care-freely around Blaine's forehead, the dark color contrasting gloriously with his skin tone. Kurt's gaze connected with Blaine's and sweet shock coursed through him as he took in Blaine's sultry, 'come-hither' expression. Somewhere in the distance, Kurt felt David clap him on the shoulder and emit a low whistle, but it didn't quite register fully, for the blood in Kurt's body seemed to immediately run south, and all he could think about was—
"Damn Blaine, you're looking fine." Mercedes called jovially, snapping Kurt from his thoughts but not completely pulling him from his haze. Blaine laughed and came to join the rest of the group, squeezing in opposite of Kurt and shooting him a look from behind his long, black eyelashes. Kurt swallowed hard and folded his hands surreptitiously in his lap.
"Uh…my turn." Kurt squeaked, leaning forward carefully to twist the neck of the bottle. He sat back on his haunches and waited for it to stop spinning. The rest of the group seemed to have something planned though, because as the bottle slowed to a stop to rest on Sam's spot, they had already shoved Blaine over and traded places with him. It was probably against the rules of the game, but at this point Kurt couldn't care less.
He shot forward on his hands and knees, meeting his boyfriend in a heated kiss. He could smell the scent of pure Blaine wafting from his recently washed hair and he couldn't resist reaching one hand up to tangle in his freed locks, pulling him in deeper as tongues got somehow became involved. Blaine reached up and pulled at Kurt's collar, breathing heavily through his nose, and wrapped his other hand around the back of Kurt's neck, scraping gently with his fingernails. Kurt gasped at the feeling and, before he could stop it, released a low, needy moan from the back of his throat.
Just then, he noticed the complete silence around him and pulled back abruptly.
The expressions around him were a mixed bag. Puck, Santana, Brittany, and Tina all looked like they had been enjoying the show. Mercedes and Rachel were both holding in drunken giggles. Finn seemed a little uncomfortable but just mostly surprised. The rest of the group's eyebrows were up to their hairlines.
"Um, Kurt…wow." Wes said, eyes wide.
Puck grinned ruefully and leaned over to punch Blaine's shoulder, calling out "Get some" in the startled boy's ear.
Kurt sat still, ten different things going through his mind as he considered what to do next. Despite the fact that the glee kids had heard him get…vocal with Blaine, Kurt was still pathetically turned on, and he couldn't prevent his eyes from flickering back to his boyfriend. His gaze raked hungrily over his ensemble, his hair, his darkened eyes, and Kurt let out a soundless, shuddering breath. Suddenly, though, something clicked in place in his head and his hands flew up to grasp at his own stomach.
"Ugh…don't feel well…" Kurt groaned, screwing his face into a sickened grimace. He stood abruptly and ran out of the room and towards the basement, doubling over and covering his mouth as if he needed to throw up.
"Kurt? Kurt, hold on!" Blaine called behind him, panic twisting into his voice. Kurt smiled devilishly behind his hand as he ran down the stairs and into his room, stopping only until he had reached the bathroom door. He could hear Blaine's fast footsteps coming from behind him and he turned to see his boyfriend skid to a halt, fright and worry on his face.
"Kurt what's wrong, I thought you didn't have any beer, are you feeling—?" But Blaine's incessant worrying was cut off as Kurt's hand flew up to cover his lips. Kurt eyed him predatorily, moving his fingers down to grasp the neckline of the tank top. Blaine's mouth hung open slightly as Kurt pulled him into the bathroom and shut the door with conviction.
A/N: Well, I can't really say I ended it on a cliff-hanger because you all know what going to happen next, haha. Anyway, I stopped here because this chapter was getting really long and these boys just need to get some things out of the way before they focus their full attention on Rachel. The next chapter is going to continue during the party and Kurt and Blaine are going to get into some serious scheming.
Hope you like it! By the way, I'm thinking of making my chapters a bit longer so I might not be updating every couple of days like I had been with the first three chapters. I can't say that for certain, though, because these things sort of have a tendency to write themselves. Anyway, please review!
