That Breathless Charm
Chapter 7
Inside Blaine's bedroom everything was quiet except for the two men staring at each other with their hands entwined and breathing softly. Blaine was so close that Kurt could feel when the puffs of hot breath left his mouth. He smelled of coffee and peppermint and Kurt wanted to kiss him so bad it hurt.
Closing the space between them, Kurt met Blaine's lips softly at first but soon it was all lips and tongues and teeth. The way Blaine kissed made Kurt's head spin, and soon there was nothing else inside his head but Blaine, Blaine, Blaine.
No one was paying attention to the lack of finesse with which they removed their clothes and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor. All Kurt could concentrate on was that Blaine was teasing his lower lip, pulling him closer, pressing their now naked bodies together. It felt so overwhelmingly good that Kurt let out a soft whimper.
"Kurt?" Blaine's voice was only a soft whisper, barely heard among the heavy breathing.
"I want you so much, Blaine," Kurt panted. "So much it hurts."
"You have me," Blaine answered between kisses, his tongue sliding alongside Kurt's and oh, how could someone taste so good?
Kurt put his arms around Blaine's waist and started pushing him backwards until the back of Blaine's knees hit the bed. He looked at the younger man, once more wanting to know if it was alright to be here because he didn't believe he could back off now. Blaine stared at him with unabashed lust and wonder, leaving Kurt breathless. When Blaine smiled at him in that boyish way only he had, Kurt started to lower Blaine slowly onto the bed following him closely, their chests always touching.
He hovered over Blaine for a few seconds, taking him in. He already looked disheveled with a thin layer of sweat on his brow, and the way his deep, hazel eyes looked at Kurt- like he was everything that mattered in the whole world- was making Kurt crazy. He tasted Blaine's lips again, this time in a slow and deep kiss and the way Blaine clutched at his shoulders, pushing him to get even closer, made Kurt's stomach do flip-flops and his heart pound inside his chest like crazy.
"What is this you're doing to me, Blaine Anderson?" Kurt murmured in wonderment, arching his neck so Blaine could kiss his collarbone.
"I love you," Blaine simply answered, while he tangled both hands in Kurt's hair and pulled him down a little so he could nib his earlobe.
"I love you, too," Kurt said sincerely, and the fact that he had never said this to anyone was overwhelming. This was what being in love felt like and it was finally happening to him. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world, having the man he loved in his arms, being able to feel his heart beating so close to his own, being able to see his eyes shining and his lips smiling; knowing he had caused that. Blaine was a guy that smiled a lot, and Kurt could write a whole book about his smiles alone. The smile he was giving Kurt now was different: not so wide, but combined with the intensity in Blaine's eyes it spoke of secrets not yet told, of love and happiness and a little mischief too. It felt intimate; a smile reserved for Kurt's eyes only.
"Kurt," Blaine whispered. "I want – I want – "
"What, Blaine? Tell me."
"I want you. Please, Kurt…"
Kurt didn't have an answer to that. Something inside him broke, like he was letting any remaining resistance just… go. He kissed Blaine hard, with all he had, grunting when Blaine's legs opened to nestle Kurt between them. Kurt's mouth practically attacked Blaine, not caring that the guy would surely have several marks the next day. Blaine kissed Kurt back hungrily and desperately, half-moaning, his arms thrown around Kurt's neck, keeping him in place.
Kurt would like to say that his and Blaine's first time was slow and beautiful with soft kisses and low moans, like in the movies. But it wasn't; it was sloppy and desperate and fast, like a storm that suddenly rolled over them and left them drenched in sweat, drunk with lust and love They clung to each other like their lives would simply end if their bodies stopped touching.
It was still beautiful; beyond any words Kurt could find to express the moment. It was beautiful when Kurt was finally moving inside Blaine and Blaine arched his back whispering Kurt's name over and over again, like a prayer, while his nails undoubtedly left scratch marks on Kurt's back. It was beautiful when Blaine moaned louder, clenched at Kurt's back harder and shuddered beneath Kurt. It was beautiful when Kurt's vision turned white and he felt like he was flying, everything explosions and flashes of light inside him.
It was beautiful how they curled around each other afterwards, in a messy tangle, not caring to clean themselves. Kurt, so OCD with cleaning himself right after sex, wasn't in any hurry to take Blaine's scent off him. He pulled the duvet over their bodies and let himself surrender to tiredness. Blaine's head rested on his chest with his right hand over Kurt's heart, like he was guarding the place where he belonged.
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Kurt's PA was already on her way to pick him at the airport when he called to say he wasn't coming that day. In fact, she went crazy when he informed her that he was coming back to New York on Tuesday. He didn't tell her the reason, saying only that something very important had come up and he would explain everything personally.
After that he called his agent, and Melanie wasn't very pleased to know he wasn't going to start rehearsing until Wednesday morning. Kurt had never been anything but completely professional and responsible with his work and the play wasn't in any danger, because Kurt could play his part backwards if he had to. His agent told Kurt not to worry, that she trusted him and she would try to calm down the producers and re-schedule his appointments with Annie. She begged him not to be late on Wednesday morning or the play's director would flip his shit and Kurt would be in deep trouble.
Kurt sighed when he hung up the phone and looked at Blaine.
"I have to be there on Tuesday night."
"Okay…" Blaine said with a worried tone.
"Hey," Kurt said, putting his hand on Blaine's knee. "It's alright. Everything will be fine. The director loves me. I've been playing this part for eighteen months. Two days of rehearsal before I go back to the play will be more than fine."
"I feel guilty," Blaine said lamely, "Even though I'm beyond happy you stayed a little more. I mean, we're – and I'm – you're already risking too much because of me. "
"Don't be dramatic, Blaine. You make it sound like we're going to be arrested. It's my choice, okay? I want to stay. I can stay; I wouldn't be here if I couldn't."
They were lying on the bed after taking a shower – and of course, after Blaine had changed the sheets – and after attacking Blaine's fridge. Kurt made an omelet with everything he found that was still edible – but there wasn't much, to tell the truth. They'd eaten in companionable silence, but soon the mood had changed to playful and Kurt had started feeding with Blaine with his fork, while sitting on his lap. The poor chair – it was really old – cracked at their combined weights, almost dropping them, so they were forced to go to bed again. Once there, one thing had led to another and soon they were making out like insatiable teenagers.
After round two, though, neither man slept. They stayed lying on their sides, legs entwined, facing each other with stupid, dopey grins on their faces. One look at Blaine's bedside table, where a clock showed it was almost seven, brought Kurt right back to the real world.
He had called his father first, then his PA and finally his agent. While both women acted like Kurt was crazy, all Burt asked was that Kurt stopped at his house to say goodbye when he decided to go back to New York. Kurt didn't even have to explain that Blaine had gone all the way to Dayton on his motorcycle just to see Kurt. They'd decided to leave it in the airport's parking lot and rented a car so Kurt could bring his three suitcases all the way back to Lima. Burt also didn't ask where Kurt would be staying, saying that he was glad things had worked between him and Blaine. Kurt loved his father.
"How about you?" Kurt asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, his hand caressing Blaine's jaw, where stubble was starting to show. "You should have been at work this afternoon."
"I, um… I called in sick. Jeff and Nick stayed with my sessions for today."
"The whole day?" Kurt arched his eyebrows. "Wow."
"Even if I'd had time to go back for the afternoon sessions, I would be of no use at work today. Either I would be elated or destroyed after talking to you, if I could reach you in time. I wouldn't be able to concentrate on the kids' needs."
Kurt stifled a laugh. "I think we're a bad influence on each other, Mr. Anderson."
"I think we're a very good influence on each other, Mr. Hummel."
They didn't talk about what would happen to their relationship in three days, when Kurt would have to go back. It was not a conscious decision, but they didn't want to break the giddy mood both were in. They stayed the rest of the day in bed, talking and kissing, only stopping for a few minutes so Blaine could order Thai food and feed poor Percival.
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Saturday was no different than Friday. When Kurt woke up, Blaine's side of the bad was empty but Kurt could hear him singing 'Teenage Dream' in the kitchen. Smiling, Kurt took a shower and put on a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt he found in one of Blaine's drawers. He wasn't in the mood to open his heavy suitcases now. He felt relaxed, content and a little bit lazy; he almost skipped his skin care regimen, but of course he didn't.
Kurt found Blaine in the kitchen, wearing an apron and making pancakes. He was only in his pajamas bottoms, but apparently he had already gone out and come back because the fridge was now fully stocked.
"Hey, you," Kurt hugged Blaine from behind while he flipped another pancake.
"Sleep well?" Blaine asked, turning his head to the side so he could kiss Kurt's cheek.
"Like a baby," Kurt said, "But you shouldn't have let me sleep so late, it's already past eleven!"
"I'm an early riser," Blaine said, "and we didn't have anything to eat. I wanted to… to cook you breakfast," Blaine turned his head away from Kurt a little, but Kurt was so close that he could see Blaine blushing. "I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but you woke up…" he trailed off.
It was Kurt who kissed Blaine's cheek this time. "You're adorable, but you didn't have to do that. I don't need to be pampered."
Blaine finished the pancakes and turned in Kurt's arms, kissing him lightly. "Come on, let's eat; I'm starving."
"Where do you keep your plates?" Kurt said, releasing Blaine and turning his back to him, looking for the kitchen's cabinets.
"In the –" Blaine started to answer, but stopped suddenly.
"Blaine?" Kurt frowned, turning his head to look at the younger man.
Blaine's eyes were fixed on Kurt's body, his mouth open, jaw almost on the floor.
"What?" Kurt asked, self-conscious, looking at himself.
"You're wearing my clothes."
"Oh, um…" Kurt felt his cheeks turning pink – why did he have to be so white? "I… I didn't want to open my suitcases to search for some clothes… I hope you don't mind that I borrowed yours…"
"They're really tight," Blaine said, his eyes still fixed on Kurt's body even though Kurt had turned to face him now.
"Uh… yeah, I guess my shoulders are a little broader than yours…"
Before Kurt could even blink, Blaine was invading his personal space, eyes huge, pupils dilated. "You look hot," he said, his hands already on Kurt's hips, pushing Kurt until the back of his thighs hit the table. "So hot that I… my clothes really look good on you."
"What are you doing?" Kurt asked when Blaine started to kiss and nip his neck.
"You're gorgeous, Kurt. I'm sure people tell you this all the time. You're gorgeous and you're wearing my clothes and you look delicious in them," Blaine said, his hot breath on Kurt's ear.
The 'you look delicious' comment almost made Kurt laugh it was so cheesy and cliché. Kurt wasn't able to do anything else but tremble and moan when Blaine sucked on his earlobe. "I want you," Blaine said.
"I thought you were hungry," Kurt said faintly when Blaine held him by the waist so he could sit on the table.
"I am," Blaine said, his voice in a low growl. "For you," he added, while taking off his apron and tossing it to the floor.
"Oh," was all that Kurt said, because that was a really lame pick up line and yet it had left Kurt turned on so fast that he felt dizzy. All coherent thought left him when Blaine looked at him and, oh, Blaine looked like a predator now, the hazel of his eyes almost black with lust. Kurt decided that he had no objection to being Blaine's prey.
He threw his head back as Blaine kneeled on the floor, pulling at his sweatpants, in a clear message of what he wanted. Blaine made Kurt forget there was even a world outside the kitchen; his whole world revolved around them, together, the way it should be.
They had to clean the table later. And reheat the pancakes. They tasted like rubber because Kurt ended up kissing Blaine – again – while the pancakes were in the microwave and they completely forgot they were there. They ate them like that anyway, anxious to go back to the bedroom.
Percival ate all their leftovers, though, and he didn't complain.
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The only times Kurt had ever spent the whole weekend in bed were the times he was sick, when he felt too tired to move. Usually, on Broadway, weekends were the busiest. On weekends they always played sold-out shows and, of course, there were the Sundays with the 4 PM and the 8 PM shows.
Today, as Kurt woke up in Blaine's bed for the second day in a row, he thought that he could really get used to this. Sleeping by Blaine's side was something new and yet natural, their bodies seeking each other even in sleep. Kurt was now spooning the younger man, his right arm thrown over Blaine's waist. He had never been too fond of cuddling, but that was because he'd never wanted someone next to him all the time. Now he did.
He could tell it was late in the morning because the blinds were doing a poor job of stopping the light from coming in. Percival was lying on the floor next to Blaine, and the sunlight coming from the window was hitting him on the face, but he didn't seem to mind. He was more interested in chewing what appeared to be one of Blaine's shoes. Ooops. Kurt hoped it was an old shoe, at least.
Blaine was sleeping deeply and Kurt didn't want to wake him up, but his bladder was screaming, so he removed his arm carefully from Blaine's waist and sat up slowly. Blaine mumbled something like a complaint and hugged a nearby pillow, quieting again.
The face that looked at Kurt in the mirror – and hey, Blaine had bought a new one! – was a face Kurt almost didn't recognize. There were the same gray/blue eyes, the same pale face and his hair was tousled, which was natural for someone who had just woken up. For someone that didn't Know Kurt better, he looked normal.
But, of course, Kurt knew his own face from countless times he practiced speeches in front of the mirror, from countless times he had performed his skin care regimen, so he knew he looked different.
There was a new light in his eyes, shining brighter than he'd ever seen. There was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, one he couldn't contain. If Kurt had to describe his face this exact moment, the only word he could come up with was… happy. He looked happy.
He and Blaine had spent two whole days in bed, getting up only for showers and food, and Kurt doubted the third one would be any different. The sex was great, of course it was, but it wasn't everything they did.
They talked a lot, mostly about how it would be for them to try a long-distance relationship. Both men wanted to see where the feelings they had for each other would lead them, but they knew it wasn't going to be easy. Kurt's life was crazy- meetings and dinners and rehearsals scheduled for weeks in advance. Not to mention the shows every night, except on Mondays, and twice on Sundays. All his free time was devoted to sleep. Blaine's life was much simpler, but he had his job at the Centre that he couldn't leave at short notice. People depended on him; it was okay to leave Nick and Jeff taking care of everything for a couple of days, but he needed to go back. So, they knew it would be a while before they could see each other again.
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On Monday Kurt went to spend the afternoon with Burt while Blaine went to his sessions at the Community Centre. Kurt would leave on Tuesday morning for Dayton with Blaine, return the rental car, and Blaine would go back to Lima on his motorcycle.
They would Skype, email, text, but it wouldn't be the same. Kurt could feel the beginning of fear coiling inside his stomach. He was afraid of having his heart broken. He was afraid of what distance would do to a relationship still in its first steps. He was afraid of hurting Blaine, of wiping the ever-present smile on his face.
When Blaine texted him 'hey, can your dad give you a ride to my house? Something came up and I can't pick you up', Kurt didn't think anything of it. He asked Burt to take him and at seven PM, when he knew Blaine would already have arrived from work, Kurt went.
The house was dark when Kurt arrived, but when he went to knock on the door, it was opened. Frowning, Kurt strained his ears for strange noises, heart beating fast. Maybe it was a thief? With all the condos around it, with their big walls and security cameras, Blaine's little house looked alone and unprotected.
Heart pounding, he stepped inside… and the lights went on suddenly, making Kurt blink several times to adjust his eyes.
Blaine was in the middle of the living room dressed in a black suit with a black bowtie. He was holding a red rose and had a smile on his face, the one Kurt knew was only his. "Welcome home, baby," he said, blushing a little.
Kurt accepted he rose, still astonished. "Home?" he asked.
Blaine made a gesture with his arms, indicating the house. "I know it's not much, and the wonderful places you see on a daily basis don't even compare with this small house. But," Blaine held Kurt's hand, eagerly, "they say that 'home is where the heart is', don't they? So, this is your home, too, Kurt. Whenever you get tired of everything, whenever the pressure is too much… you just think of home, this home, our home, where I'll be always waiting for you."
"Oh, Blaine…" Kurt murmured, his eyes already full of tears. "How come your cliché lines always make me cry?"
"Um…because they come from heart?" Blaine said on purpose, mischief already dancing in his eyes.
Kurt half-laughed, half-sobbed. "Stop. That line is even worse."
"But it's working," Blaine laughed, brushing his thumbs on Kurt's wet cheeks.
"Because you must be some wizard who put a spell on me," Kurt joked, sniffing loudly.
"Well, since you're already crying…" Blaine said, and he released Kurt, turned to his stereo and put on an old song. As the first notes started, Blaine put his right hand on Kurt's while his left arm rested on Kurt's waist, and began to sway slowly. "I'm trying to be romantic here, so bear with me, okay?"
Kurt knew that song; it had always been one of his favorites because it reminded him of his mother. When Kurt was around seven, she would put this song and would dance with him. Later, as he grew up, whenever he heard the song, he would dream of dancing it with someone he loved but he'd never had the chance.
Now, here he was, in a tiny living room in Lima, on a summer night, and there was a beautiful man singing this song to him. "Someday, when I'm awfully low, When the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight," Blaine sang next to Kurt's ear. As they danced slowly, the tears started to fall freely now, because never in his whole life had Kurt Hummel felt so loved; so happy. Here, in his home town, in the place he'd always hated, he had found what he'd always been looking for: someone to belong to; the love of his life.
( watch?v=XKCuWlP_h5Q&feature=fvst)
TBC
