A/N: And here's where we raise the rating :)

I'll be on vacation again this weekend, but when I get back I'm going straight back to trying to update this, in between getting my schoolwork finished and my community service hours for my senior project. And yeah, this one is a little longer than usual.

Like always, please review and let me know how you like the story.

I don't own anything.

SO without further ado, here's chapter seven .


The months passed quickly and summer turned into autumn, and autumn was quickly turning into winter. December had come out of nowhere, and Kurt was up studying like crazy for his finals that quarter.

Blaine was due to come home in a couple of days, but Kurt had forgotten in the flurry of work he had to do, with school, his job, and trying to organize things to do with his other friends. He was like a zombie, so it was a complete surprise to him when someone knocked on his door on a Saturday right before finals and he was shocked out of his crazed focus.

Kurt groaned loudly at the interruption and decided that if he ignored it long enough, then the person would just go away and he could go back to his studying. A minute later, more knocking. Kurt went back to ignoring, and put his earbuds in to block out the noise, hoping that he could be left in peace. Then, his house phone rang. He didn't have caller ID, but he didn't want to get up and check it. If the person had really wanted to get a hold of him, they would have called his cell phone so he could see who it was. The only people who ever called his landline were telemarketers, and he largely ignored them. They could leave a message so he could call them back, he figured.

The phone had stopped ringing and Kurt went back into a steady working pace when his cell phone went crazy on the table. There must have been five text messages by the time it stopped moving around the table, and he rolled his eyes as he opened his inbox.

In it he found eight text messages from Blaine. Kurt frowned. Why would Blaine be texting him? Wasn't he supposed to be back in a few days? He opened the first one and saw the date in the corner, slapping his hand on his forehead at his forgetfulness. How could it already be Saturday? He read through the messages quickly:

Kurt, I'm back.

Kurt, open your door.

Hi, this is Blaine.

Open your door.

Kurt.

Open.

Your.

Door.

Kurt ran to his door and flung it open to find Blaine sitting on the floor in the hallway against the wall with a paper grocery bag in his lap, whistling to pass the time.

"Oh, hey! How's it going, Kurt? Did I wake you up or something?" Blaine smiled up at Kurt brightly, and got to his feet.

Kurt frowned and looked down at himself, until he noticed what Blaine was talking about. He was wearing an old pair of dark sweatpants and an old McKinley football t-shirt that was still a little too big for him, even though he had gotten taller and his shoulders had broadened out some. Something that he would never be caught dead wearing in front of other people, yet here he was, in front of Blaine, wearing those awful clothes.

"Oh, right. That. Um, you kind of caught me at a bad time, actually," Kurt stared at Blaine as he walked in through the door.

"Kurt, your apartment is a mess." And really it was. The state of disarray it was in was pitiful for someone like Kurt who prided himself in his cleanliness. The kitchen sink was stacked with messy dishes and dirty pots, the counters were streaked in what must have been a hastily done cleaning with a rag. In the living room, there were books piled all over the floor and laundry all over the place, most of it not in the basket on the couch. The table off to the side was piled with even more books and swatches of fabric and there was paper everywhere.

In truth, Kurt hadn't noticed how bad it had gotten.

"Oh geez, I'm so sorry about that, I just got so side-tracked with studying I kind of just let the place go."

Blaine didn't say a word but went straight to the coffee pot and rinsed it out before filling it with water and putting it back in place. He turned it on and opened the cupboards to look for some coffee to use. He grabbed all of the coffee in there and placed one of the bags by the coffeemaker and put the rest in the freezer. Then, he saw Kurt's confused look. "It keeps it fresher longer when you put it in the freezer," he said, then measured out enough for the pot and put it in the filter in the top.

"What are you doing?" asked Kurt, still standing there with the same expression on his face.

"Don't worry about it, Kurt. I figured that you would still have finals when I got back, so I thought I'd help you out. Clearly, you need more help than I thought you would, though." Blaine went back into the kitchen and took out a couple containers of vanilla yogurt from the grocery bag and a big cantaloupe, which he held under cold water to wash it off. He found a knife in one of the drawers and set to work on cutting up the cantaloupe while Kurt just stared at him.

"Go study, Kurt. You need to be prepared for your finals," said Blaine as he handed Kurt a bowl of yogurt and cut up cantaloupe with a spoon. Kurt sat down at the table and dug in, not realizing how hungry he was until he smelled the fruit and the yogurt. The coffeemaker beeped to tell that it was ready, so Blaine found a big mug and poured Kurt a huge cup of coffee and handed that to him as well. "It's caffeinated. You're gonna need all the energy you can get."

Kurt nodded in agreement as he went back to studying and sipping the hot cup of coffee. Before it was too long, Blaine was shaking his shoulder and talking to Kurt quietly. "I'm going to leave now, but just give me a call if you need anything, okay?"

Nodding, Kurt looked around the room and found that everything had been cleaned up and it smelled fresh, like Blaine had actually scrubbed the counters and the sink in the kitchen and dusted the cramped apartment. The clothes that had been strewn around the living room had been folded neatly and were in the basket that Blaine had put outside the door to Kurt's bedroom. Kurt's place looked immaculate once more.

He turned back to Blaine with wide eyes. "But – how – why –"

"I went to Dalton. Finals there were intense, and I learned how to manage everything once I got to college, where it was even worse. I figured you could use some help, so I stopped by and gave you some help. It'll be over before you know it," said Blaine, and Kurt knew that it would be. It was just the matter of getting to the point of finals that was always so stressful, because once they were over, everything was fine and he could relax once more.

And everything was fine after finals week had passed. Most of Kurt's exams were early on in the week, so he got to enjoy a half week to himself to unwind and sleep off all the late night studying he did. Blaine called a few times since he left to check in on Kurt and to see if he needed anything, and Kurt could not even begin to express how thankful he was that Blaine had stopped by to clean things up and get him back on track.

The day after his last final, Kurt called Blaine to tell him what time the gala was and what to wear. "Make sure you wear something nice—this is a black tie affair, you know, with those stuffy art critics—you need to dress to impress."

"I don't think that will be a problem," said Blaine on the other end, and they hung up shortly after.

-O-

The gala was on Saturday, right after finals to ensure that the students who were featured in it would still be around before they left for the holidays.

Kurt spent some time in front of his closet trying to pick something out to wear. He didn't know if he wanted to go traditional black tie, or try something new since he was always pushing boundaries. After a while, he settled on a plain black suit but with shiny lapels and a matching tie. He wore a red and black pocket square and shined his shoes until they gleamed. He was ready meet Blaine at the gallery.

When he got there, he searched for any familiar face and found a few people who were in his summer art class and chatted with them for a while until Blaine got there. About ten minutes passed and he still didn't see him, which put a frown on his face. He had told him to be there a quarter after eight, and it was nearly half past.

A voice behind him spoke up. "You shouldn't frown too much, Kurt. A smile suits you better, I think."

Kurt turned around, and there he was, in a slim black suit with a perfect black bowtie. Blaine had finally shaved and cut his hair, which took the several years off his face that he had put on overseas. He looked really good. Kurt smiled.

"Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever. Where were you?"

"Sorry, there was some traffic on the way here. I took a cab," answered Blaine, smiling back. "Ah, there we go. Now you're smiling."

Kurt blushed a little, but maybe that was just the bright lights. He hoped Blaine hadn't seen that, so he turned his head and pretended to look for his own exhibit (of course he already knew where it was) to hide how red his face had gotten.

"Um, shall we?" said Kurt as he recovered and held out his arm, turning up his nose to imitate the other people nearby. Blaine gently placed his arm on Kurt's and turned his nose upwards as well. "I daresay it is time we examine these pieces of art," he said in response, putting on a bad British accent.

They walked around for a little bit, and while Kurt had put his arm down, Blaine's hand hadn't left Kurt's. Although he liked the warm feeling of Blaine's hand, Kurt had no idea what that was supposed to mean or why Blaine seemed to ignore the fact that he had intertwined his fingers with Kurt's. It felt nice, though.

Kurt's little corner of the exhibit was straight ahead, so they walked closer to better see his art. Blaine looked at the work while Kurt explained what it was, or what the assignment had been and then was quiet so Blaine could admire it properly.

The last one, Kurt hadn't expected to be in the exhibit. It was that assignment he had stressed over for the last month of the class, and while he quite liked it, he wasn't sure if he wanted Blaine to see it yet. Kurt didn't say much to explain it, and all he could get out was a strangled "Um…" before he fell silent again, because really, what was there to explain about it without making things intensely awkward?

The painting was of Blaine, that first day that they met, before Blaine had gone into the diner where he was just sitting on the bench. It would have been just an ordinary painting of a person all by themselves on a bench, but Kurt had managed to make it so much more, simply by choosing the right colors to convey how lonely Blaine had looked that day. Kurt still didn't even know why that image had struck him that night after talking to Blaine, but he was glad it did since it gave him the opportunity to actually turn in an assignment. He just wasn't sure how Blaine was going to react to it.

Blaine actually didn't say much, thankfully (or would that have been a bad thing—Kurt wasn't sure), and they moved on to the next exhibit before long.

It was getting late, and Kurt was ready to head home, but Blaine first insisted that Kurt see where he lived, since Blaine had already been to Kurt's apartment a few times and Kurt hadn't seen his place yet. Kurt reluctantly agreed, but then thought about what he might find at Blaine's place. It could give Kurt more of an insight as to who Blaine really was, and the thought of that intrigued him, which won over his tiredness, so he walked beside Blaine on the way to his apartment.

They stopped outside one of those brownstone buildings with nice windows out front, and all Kurt could think of was that Blaine had to come from serious money to be able to afford something like that (New York wasn't cheap, after all, which was why Kurt had considered taking on another job to pay his rent and tuition to NYU). Once inside, Kurt admired the clean lines of the furniture, like the table by the door which held various items like keys and bills to be paid and sent.

Blaine ripped off his bowtie almost immediately and loosened the top buttons of his dress shirt. "You'd think that wearing a tie for my uniform for three years in high school would get me used to wearing this sort of thing, but I really just can't stand the feeling of something around my neck all the time," he said tiredly. Kurt loosened his own tie as well, silently agreeing with Blaine.

All of a sudden, he felt an overwhelming need to explain about the particular painting of Blaine that he had been so quiet about all evening. "Listen, Blaine, about that painting –"

"No. No no no, Kurt. You do not need to apologize for that. I actually kind of wanted to talk about that, though," said Blaine, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat hook. "What, um, inspired you to do that?" he asked quietly.

"Oh. Well, I think it was after he had a few conversations on Skype, but then I was hit with that first time I saw you on that bench and I wanted to paint that. I don't really know why. I felt kind of possessed, actually when I painted that. My subconscious kind of took over, and before I knew it, it was finished."

Blaine considered that. "My only problem is that I don't look like that anymore."

"I don't understand. You look almost exactly the same, Blaine. Especially since you cut your hair…"

"No, not that. It's just – I look so lonely and sad there."

"You're not that way anymore?" Kurt teased.

"No. Because I have you," said Blaine, like that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I think I kind of love you," blurted out Kurt. He froze, not believing that he just said that. There was no way he could take that back at all.

"Uh –" he started, but he was cut off by the soft crush of Blaine's lips against his own. Kurt was still for a moment before kissing back because whoa, there was something there in that kiss. Blaine pulled away and stared at Kurt for a second. "I kind of love you, too," he said breathlessly, and then went in again desperately, hands moving down to grip Kurt's hips. Kurt fisted his hands in Blaine's shirt, keeping their mouths fused together as they stumbled down the hall to Blaine's bedroom and onto the bed.

Kurt took off his jacket and his tie and threw them unceremoniously onto the chair in the corner. He knew that in the morning he was going to curse himself for leaving them in that state, but right now, there were more important things to take care of. He turned back to Blaine, who was unbuttoning his own shirt and tossing it on the floor with his pants. Doing the same, he climbed on top of Blaine and hovered above him, teasing just slightly before leaning in to kiss him hungrily. Blaine's hands wandered all over Kurt's body, feeling the sinuous muscle under the warm layers of smooth skin that he just loved to touch.

Kurt's mouth moved down and latched itself onto Blaine's neck, right in the crevice below his ear and sucked on it slightly, just to experiment. He was met with Blaine bucking his hips up uncontrollably, and Kurt felt his hardness right there, with just boxers between them. "Oh god, Kurt," Blaine moaned. Kurt's hands roamed lower and lower on Blaine's body until he got to the waistband of his boxers and slipped his hands in them to grip the base of Blaine's cock and began pumping his hand slowly. Blaine bucked up once more into Kurt's hand, making all sorts of whimpering noises.

Blaine held up a hand to stop Kurt and quickly slipped his boxers off while Kurt did the same, and then they went right back at what they were doing, kissing and touching and murmuring softly. "Blaine!" yelled Kurt when he twisted his hand just right on Kurt's cock. "Oh my god. Please, I just need you. I need it, Blaine," he sputtered. So Blaine leaned over to rummage through the drawer of his bedside table to look for the lube and condoms. He finally found it and coated his fingers with the lube and turned back to Kurt, who was now laying on the bed below him, looking flushed and slightly sweaty and just incredible.

He pressed a finger at Kurt's entrance and teased there for just a moment before slipping it in slowly and moving it around gently. Kurt tensed up a little, but relaxed as Blaine stretched him open. "Do another," said Kurt, so Blaine obeyed his command. He scissored his fingers to stretch him as best as he could, and angled them to search for that one spot that was sure to make Kurt fall apart. The noise Kurt suddenly made signaled that he had found it, and Blaine pumped his fingers slightly, hitting that spot every once in a while.

Kurt tried to pump himself up and down on Blaine's fingers, but Blaine stilled him. "You need to wait, Kurt. Good things happen to those who wait," he said. "Yeah well then hurry up." Blaine laughed and added another finger and worked them for a little bit before he removed them to roll on the condom. Kurt whined at the loss, but was met with gratitude once Blaine slicked the lube onto his erection and pressed the tip at Kurt's entrance and slid in slowly.

Blaine rocked his hips forward slowly, leaning down to kiss Kurt every other thrust. Kurt rocked his own hips in time with Blaine's and they set up a steady rhythm of moving back and forth, back and forth. After a while, Blaine's hand found Kurt's cock and he began to stroke it again until Kurt was gasping out. "God I'm close, so close, Blaine." Blaine himself was about to come as well, so he leaned down to whisper in Kurt's ear. "Come for me, Kurt," and Kurt did. He threw his head back in utter bliss and moaned loudly, and the sight alone was enough for Blaine to follow after. Blaine stroked Kurt through his orgasm in a jerky manner, since he was still dealing with the aftershock of his own, but when Kurt came down from that high, Blaine slipped out and rolled the condom off and tossed it in the trashcan nearby. He got up and returned quickly with a damp washcloth and wiped the drying cum off of Kurt's stomach before tossing that aside and crawling up next to Kurt and wrapping his arms around him and falling into a deep sleep together.