A/N: Imma keep it real, this is basically just fluff with a smidgen of plot development. Ah well - thanks for reading!
Life was significantly sweeter with Kurt in it. Blaine hadn't anticipated much of change in his day to day life now that he and Kurt were 'involved' so to speak – not dating, sort-of exclusive, and definitely very much on the down low. Each day Blaine awoke with more energy and pep to his step – the little things that used to bother him rolling off his back with ease. They hadn't met up in person since their Sunday morning coffee shop meeting, but phone calls in the evening and texts throughout the day had become the norm.
At the office things remained mostly unchanged, with the exception of the occasional lingering hand on the copier or a shy smile shared in the kitchen over coffee. In the evenings they would either Skype or call one another to watch an episode of whatever show they were in the mood for that night, or just to catch up on how their days went. Blaine always made sure to use headphones when talking with Kurt – playing music in the background to drown out his conversation, in hopes of keeping Mike and Tina from overhearing.
"Dude, I think you need to get your ears checked," Mike confronted Blaine one morning, cornering him before he headed off to his morning classes.
"Why do you say that?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You're blasting your music way louder than usual. Which is cool, you have good taste. But seriously, get that checked out." Mike pointed his banana at Blaine to emphasize his point.
"Right, I will," Blaine replied, biting back a laugh as Mike shot him another concerned look before heading off to class.
Even the mundane things, like grabbing coffee in the morning, were more exciting with Kurt in the picture. Every morning Blaine picked up his usual coffee from the bodega around the corner from his apartment and snapped a photo of the bodega's resident tabby cat, Buttons, to send to Kurt.
Blaine took pictures of lots of things throughout the day to send to Kurt – a distressed army-style jacket displayed in a shop window that looked Kurt's size ("The price tag says $600 but I think you could haggle it down"), a duck with an oddly patterned breast waddling through Central Park ("Inspiration for the new Prada line?"), a corgi in a Burberry poncho ("I didn't realize you'd transformed into a dog overnight!"), a cronut laying abandoned on the side of the street ("This should be considered a crime"). One day he texted Kurt a photo of two pigeons nuzzling together in the office courtyard while he was on his lunch break accompanied by a heart emoji, beaming when he caught sight of Kurt's cellphone later that afternoon, the photo of the pigeons his new lock screen background.
One afternoon, the Friday before Thanksgiving break, was determined to break Blaine's spirit. The day had begun like any other, only for his mood to sour when their hot water crapped out on him midway through his morning shower, dousing him in an ice cold spray that sent him flying halfway across the bathroom. After a heated argument with their landlord about getting their hot water back Mike and Blaine were in equally foul moods, spending ten minutes each ranting and raving about the various problems with their apartment that had cropped up as winter loomed on the horizon.
Midway through his rant about the awful job the building had done of properly sorting their tenants' recyclables Blaine realized he was 15 minutes behind schedule, and would almost definitely be late for his first class of the day. He grumbled a string of profanities as he gathered his books as fast as he could and darted out the door without so much as a goodbye to Mike. He had to run back to the apartment after realizing he'd forgotten to print out his midterm paper for said class, sweating profusely by the time he exited the apartment for the second time, freshly printed paper in hand.
Halfway to the subway it began to rain – and not just a light sprinkle, but a monsoon level tidal wave, complete with thunder and lightning. Blaine made a mad dash for the subway station, shielding his paper inside of his jacket, but it was a lost cause. He missed his train by seconds, soaked to the bone and his drenched paper practically disintegrating in his hands. Blaine let out a yell of frustration, tossing the paper into the trash and earning several disturbed looks from those around him on the platform.
Blaine's hopes that his professor would be understanding about his predicament were crushed almost instantly when he was scolded for walking into class nearly 20 minutes late.
"Just leave your paper on my desk and take your seat, Mr. Anderson," Professor Thompson scolded.
"I – w-well, I was hoping I could actually talk to you about that in private after class?" Blaine asked reluctantly, the entire class stiffening at the melt down that was inevitably to come.
Professor Thompson turned with a look of horror and disgust. "You don't have your paper?"
"I had it, I swear! It just got wet in the rain and I didn't want to—"
"I expect students to hand in their work on time if they expect to be a part of this class."
"But I—"
"Get out of my classroom, Mr. Anderson!" Thompson shouted, one student letting out a startled gasp. Blaine had to bite back tears as he pulled his backpack on and turned to leave the classroom, tail between his legs.
"I'm having the worst day in the world," Blaine had texted Kurt as soon as he exited the classroom and headed towards the library, figuring it was worth a shot to print out his paper and drop it off at Thompson's office anyway.
"Worse than the poor soul that just got himself chewed out by Sue for delivering her package one day earlier than expected?" Kurt replied.
Blaine smiled, laughing to himself at Kurt's response, easily able to picture the tirade Sue must've laid down on that poor delivery boy. It took several texts for him to explain everything that had happened thus far that day, only for his phone to get knocked out of his hand mid-text by a a guy on a skateboard who didn't bother to look where he was going. His phone hit the ground face down with a deafening smack, Blaine's breath hitching in his throat.
"Please don't be broken, please don't be broken," he chanted under his breath as a mantra as he very slowly lifted his phone back up, letting out another cry of frustration at the sight of his shattered phone screen.
"And now some asshole just bumped into me and made me shatter my phone screen. Great." Blaine shot off the last text to Kurt carefully, avoiding cutting the pads of his thumbs on the bits of his screen that had begun to chip away.
Blaine gingerly placed his phone in his pocket, making sure not to damage it any further. He focused on getting to the library in one piece, printing off his paper once again and trekking across campus to drop it off in Professor Thompson's mailbox with a profusely apologetic note attached. His phone remained tucked away in his pocket until he'd collapsed into a cushy armchair in a cafe a few blocks from campus where he intended to hide out until from the rain until it was time for his next class. He delicately placed his phone on the table, eyes widening when his phone buzzed to signal the latest of several new text messages. There were seventeen in total – sixteen of them from Kurt, and one from Mike asking if they were out of toilet paper.
Avoiding the cracked bits of his phone Blaine scrolled through each of the texts Kurt had sent him – after assuring Mike that yes, they did have more toilet paper, it was in the hall closet. Kurt had sent him a variety of jokes, videos, and photos, all with the intention of making him laugh. A video of a dog unable to walk while wearing boots, a picture of bunnies snuggled up in a basket, a terrible dad joke involving burritos that actually made Blaine laugh out loud.
"For the record I plan on keeping this going all day," the latest message read.
"You won't see me complaining," was Blaine's reply.
The day continued to throw curve balls at Blaine – his second class was cancelled after he'd spent the entire night studying for the test they were scheduled to take that day. The package he'd been expecting – a new coffee maker for the apartment – was stolen off their doorstep, and he accidentally stepped on Buttons-the-bodega-cat's bushy tail when he stepped into the store to grab some last minute groceries, earning a well deserved hiss and eternal hatred from the beloved feline.
But the texts from Kurt kept rolling in – more videos and photos than Blaine could process. Once he finally got back to the apartment for the day he spent several minutes scrolling through all of the messages one more time, grinning like an idiot when a new photo came in. A selfie of Kurt, probably taken in the office bathroom, pouting adorably.
"This is me being sad in solidarity."
Blaine spent far too long gazing at the photo, zooming in and out on Kurt's perfect features – his warm green eyes, blemish-free skin, his upturned lips.
"You're in love," Mike announced, startling Blaine when he suddenly appeared in the doorway to his bedroom.
"What're you talking about?" Blaine quickly replied, hiding his phone into the couch cushion behind him.
"You were looking at your phone the same way Tina looks at my abs. That's love, man," Mike said, pointing to his temple and giving Blaine a knowing nod.
Blaine rolled his eyes, forcing himself to relax. "It was just a picture of a really cute dog," he defended, Mike immediately perking up.
"Oh, lemme see lemme see!" he begged, bounding over to the couch and jumping over the back, landing on the seat beside Blaine.
Blaine pulled his phone back out, Mike scoffing at Blaine's shattered screen. Blaine put aside the concerns about his phone as he pulled up the photo of the corgi in the Burberry poncho and handed his phone to Mike.
"Aw man, that is a really cute dog," he said with a nod of approval.
And that was the end of that. Blaine sent the photo to Mike so that he could send it to Tina so they could mutually squeal over it before slipping back into his room. Once he'd safely closed and locked the door behind him Blaine pulled the photo of Kurt back up, smiling fondly as he saved it, making it Kurt's contact photo.
The texts continued on until Blaine, thoroughly cheered up, finally chimed back into the conversation once he was sure Kurt had finally headed home for the day.
"I'm going to call you, but I need you to let it go to voicemail."
"Does this mean we're not watching Drag Race tonight?"
"Don't worry we're still on for Drag Race, this is something different."
"Huh. Well, whenever you're ready."
Blaine set up his phone atop the keyboard in his room, taking in a few deep breaths and cracking his knuckles before hitting the call button beside Kurt's name. The call went straight to voicemail, Blaine smiling at the sound of Kurt's voice. Once the beep sounded Blaine took one last deep breath before letting his fingers fly over the keys, playing the melody to a song he knew oh so well.
It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside...
Your Song had always been one of Blaine's favorite songs to play since he'd learned to play the piano when he was sixteen. It was one of his mother's favorites, and she'd insisted that he learn to play it once he got past the basics. Whenever he would play in the living room she'd come trailing in shortly after, sitting down on the bench beside him and resting her head against his shoulder or leaning against the piano with a dreamy sigh. One Saturday afternoon his father had joined them in the living room, taking his wife by the hand and pulling her away from the piano for a dance in the middle of the room. It was one of the last few days before he headed off to New York for his first year at NYU, and one of his fondest memories of his family.
My gift is my song, and this one's for you...
While playing the song for his mother was meaningful in its own right, a part of Blaine had always longed for a special someone of his own to play the song for, for the words to take on new meaning. He may have only known Kurt for a few short months, and they weren't official in any capacity, but Blaine was confident that no matter what may happen in the days, months, or years to come, that Kurt was deserving of this song. That day Blaine was sure that his life had been changed for the better, even if it was only temporarily, because of Kurt.
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words…
He took his time with the closing lines of the song, putting his own unique spin on it. His mother had reprimanded him from straying from the original tune, but he had a feeling that Kurt would appreciate his take on the classic ballad. He sang the final lyric with the widest, brightest grin on his face as he dreamed of Kurt, perched on the bench beside him, singing along with that beautiful voice he'd come to love so dearly.
How wonderful life is while you're in the world…
"Just thought you should know," Blaine finished off, laughing softly before ending the call. He shot Kurt a quick text letting him know he could listen to the voicemail whenever he was ready, doing his best not to let his nerves get the best of him while he waited for Kurt's reply.
"That sounded really good!" Mike called from the living room, the sound of applause muffled through the walls.
Blaine peeked his head out the door. "Thank you." Mike gave him a thumbs up before Blaine closed the door once again, nearly launching himself at his desk when he heard his phone buzzing. It was an incoming call from Kurt. Blaine scrambled to pull up a random playlist on his laptop, hitting shuffle and setting it close to the door before finally answering Kurt's call.
"Hello handsome," he greeted as he laid down on his bed.
"That song…" Kurt trailed off, his voice thick with tears. Blaine sat up, worried at the distress in Kurt's voice. "Did you really mean it?" Kurt asked, sniffling harshly.
"Of course I meant it," Blaine reassured, wishing he could reach out and pull Kurt into his arms.
Kurt continued to sniffle, a quiet, joyful sob falling from his lips. "God I can't believe I'm crying over a voicemail," he said with a watery laugh. "That was beautiful, thank you."
"No need to thank me. Besides, I have a serenading quota to keep up with," he teased playfully.
Kurt laughed, his sniffles finally beginning to subside, his voice more level. "How did I ever survive without you?" He was being sarcastic, but with a hint of sincerity.
Blaine bit his lip. It was far too early to exchange I love yous – especially considering they weren't even officially dating, and wouldn't be for several more weeks. Blaine had never exchanged I love yous with a boyfriend before – though he'd come close in the past. There had been Brandon, the boy he'd dated his sophomore year at NYU for several months, which was his longest relationship to date. The words had been on the tip of his tongue but he had never found the courage to say them out loud – and neither did Brandon, who broke things off, citing 'lack of spark.' Blaine had once wondered if he even understood the concept of love – if it was everything that movies and television and novels had made it out to be, or if it was something much more specific, something one felt in their own way.
As little as Blaine knew about love, if that wasn't what was beginning to blossom in his heart for Kurt, then he never wanted to be in love – because this, whatever this was, was the most wonderful feeling in the world. And he couldn't imagine life without it.
"I was just thinking the same thing."
Thanksgiving couldn't come soon enough. The days leading up to the blissful five day weekend at Sue Sylvester Productions were hectic, to say the least. Kurt had been buried up to his neck in meetings and dinners and luncheons to schedule for Sue, along with half a dozen production runs he still needed to get done before heading to the airport to fly back home to Lima. Rachel agreed to meet up with him after he got out of work so they could head to the airport together, but had waited until the last possible minute to pack.
By noon Kurt's phone was drowning in messages from Rachel, asking which terrible animal print sweater she should bring, and whether Finn liked her maroon dress or her green dress, or if she could use his very expensive exfoliating scrub to get rid of some bumps on her arms that had cropped up that morning. In the midst of the sea of Rachel were a handful of texts from Blaine, who had already headed back to Ohio for Thanksgiving. The sight of his name among the many photos of Rachel and her bumpy arms brought a glowing smile to Kurt's lips.
Kurt had half expected things to get off to a rocky or awkward start with Blaine, as most of his relationships often did, but things were better than he could have expected. Work was still terrible in many different ways, but bearable now that Kurt had Blaine to talk to throughout the day, and Blaine's voice to look forward to at the end of the day.
While Kurt was practically dizzy with excitement about finally returning home for Thanksgiving, he couldn't squash down a certain lingering sadness. He pictured finally wrapping his arms around his dad after not seeing him since his NYADA graduation, smelling his step-mother Carole's perfume as she pulled him in for one of her signature bear hugs. Hell, he was even looking forward to seeing his doofus of a step-brother. Rachel was the more excited of the two when it came to seeing Finn – especially now that things with her and Brody had cooled off.
His father would undoubtedly grill him on every aspect of his day to day life, from what he was reading to what he was eating, and he'd have to sit there and lie through his teeth about the most significant change in his life: Blaine. Kurt was a seasoned liar – he'd had plenty of practice with white lies by fudging the truth about how much of his allowance he'd spent on clothes in high school – but that didn't mean he enjoyed it, especially when it came to his dad. Kurt cherished the close relationship he had with his dad and Carole, and the thought of keeping such an enormous secret from them made his skin crawl.
Of course he wanted to tell them about Blaine – he wanted to tell anyone who would listen about this wonderful boy he'd met who was handsome and kind and made him feel like he was the only other boy in the world. He'd briefly considered telling his dad – what would be the harm? With Burt all the way out in West-Nowhere-Lima-Ohio there was zero chance that the news would travel back to Sue in New York. But then his paranoia crept up on him, like a looming rain cloud, reminding him that Burt could tell a coworker, and a coworker could tell a friend who lives in New York, and that friend could say something to a different friend in a Starbucks in New York, where Sue – who hated Starbucks with a passion – could possibly over hear. It was the most insane scenario Kurt had ever dreamt up but it kept him awake at night and haunted him throughout the day. So he decided to keep the secret.
Once he finally scheduled Sue's last appointment Kurt made a mad dash for the door, waving goodbye to Santana and Emma as he raced to meet Rachel at the cafe around the corner.
"You're fifteen minutes late, Kurt!" Rachel scolded the second he entered the shop, waving her half eaten baguette in his face.
"I know, I know, and I'm sorry, now can we please just go before we miss our flight?" he pleaded, Rachel muttering something about the importance of punctuality under her breath before picking up one of the several bags she had stacked up beside her.
"Wait, you're bringing all of that with you? Rachel, we're going home for five days not five months." Kurt gawked as he took in all seven – seven! – of Rachel's bags.
"This is the first time Finn and I are going to see each other since we ended things at graduation, I need to make sure that I have as many options as possible," she replied calmly, attempting to curl her arm through three bag handles at once.
"But you didn't have to bring your entire closet with you!" he reprimanded, doing her a favor and taking two of the bags off of her hands, grimacing at how heavy they both were.
"You were the last person I expected to critique my decision to be fashion conscious," she said with a humph before storming out of the cafe, expecting Kurt to trail after her.
Their subway ride was dominated by Rachel chattering away about how she anticipated her reunion with Finn would go, even going so far as to describe which positions she'd most like to explore when they decided to "reunite their bodies as well as their souls." Kurt begged for a change of topic before they delved too deep into his step-brother and best friend's sex lives, Rachel begrudgingly obliging and discussing her next favorite topic: Funny Girl. She went on and on about the various ongoing dramas that their last few weeks of rehearsals had brought on as they approached previews at harrowing speed. Kurt assured her three times that yes, he would be there for her opening night, and no, he didn't need to hear her sing Don't Rain on My Parade again, he was sure it was coming along fine.
Kurt checked his emails while Rachel droned on, zoning out several times to focus on answering Sue's various last minute questions. He finally turned his phone off once they boarded the plane, excited for three blissful hours free of all things Sue Sylvester. Kurt finally got his chance to talk once they were in the air, Rachel insisting that she tell him all about work and catch her up on all of the episodes of How to Get Away with Murder that she'd missed.
Burt was waiting diligently at baggage claim when they arrived, holding up a handmade sign that read "Kurt and Rachel" – even remembering to include Rachel's signature gold star. Kurt launched at him, abandoning his bag on the ground in favor of wrapping his arms around his dad.
"Welcome back, bud," Burt murmured against his son's shoulder, holding him tight. Burt knew how hard things had been for Kurt since graduation, and finally having him back home eased the everyday worries he had.
Rachel leapt up to them to join in on a massive group hug. Burt eyes went wide as saucers as he caught sight of the mountain of bags stacked behind Rachel, laughing nervously when Rachel assured him that they were all hers. Burt and Kurt lugged as many of Rachel's bags as they could out to the parking lot, where Carole was waiting with Burt's truck and Kurt's beloved car. Kurt ran to embrace his years old vehicle before he greeted Carole, earning him a warranted smack from his dad. They caught up quickly in the parking lot, Rachel doing her best to seem aloof when Carole mentioned Finn being excited to see her. Burt and Carole took Kurt's bags in the truck while Kurt piled Rachel's bags into the trunk and backseat of his car, agreeing to follow them back to the house, but insisting that they desperately needed a caffeine stop.
Burt and Carole watched the cars while Rachel and Kurt shuttled into their old high school haunt, The Lima Bean. The two marveled at how the shop had managed to remain exactly the same, squealing when they caught sight of their usual table, running their fingertips over the table top until they found where they'd carved their initials into the wood during their senior year of high school. Kurt broke away from their reminiscing to grab their drinks, leaving Rachel to sigh wistfully at the photos on the wall, some of them of their old group of friends from high school.
When Kurt returned with their drinks moments later he nearly dropped the steaming paper cups when he caught sight of Rachel talking to none other than Blaine – his Blaine.
"Kurt, look who I found!" Rachel called over, giving Kurt a subtle wink as she tugged him up to her side, beaming at Blaine.
"Blaine?" Kurt said in disbelief, still not believing his eyes. This had to be a dream – he must've passed out on the plane from dehydration or stress or romaine lettuce poisoning.
"The world just keeps getting smaller," Blaine said with a laugh, Rachel laughing far louder than was necessary, smacking Kurt's arm when he didn't join in on the laughter.
"What're you doing here?" Kurt asked, eyeing the books and papers Blaine had scattered on the table.
"Just trying to get some work done. My brother's back home for the holidays and it's impossible to get anything done when he's around," he said with an eye roll.
"I was just telling Blaine that, since he doesn't have any plans for Thanksgiving, he should join us at your house tomorrow," Rachel announced proudly, smiling expectantly at the two.
Blaine blushed as Kurt gave him a confused look. Blaine had never mentioned during their daily conversations that he didn't have any plans for Thanksgiving – in fact he'd made it seem like he was looking forward to finally spending some time with his family.
"We kind of dropped the ball on that one," he admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "My mom's an ER nurse, so she always has to work at least two holidays every year and she got stuck working Thanksgiving this year. My dad's a lawyer, and he usually doesn't have to work on holidays but he accidentally agreed to go in for a trial scheduled for today. Since our parents are pretty much working all day my brother decided to make plans with some of his Westerville friends, so Thanksgiving is basically cancelled for the Anderson household," he explained, shrugging nonchalantly.
"Oh, Blaine I'm sorry— Kurt began.
"Don't apologize. We're not super into Thanksgiving anyway. We're really Christmas people."
"My dads – I have two gay dads – don't want to support a capitalist holiday like Thanksgiving, hence why I'm spending the day with the Hummel-Hudsons, but we do indulge on Hanukkah," Rachel said with a nod, Kurt shooting her an annoyed glare.
"So, what do you say – want to join our orphan Thanksgiving?" Rachel asked once more, ignoring the daggers Kurt was glaring into her.
Blaine's blush returned in full force as he glanced between Rachel's intense stare and Kurt's mortified expression. "W-well, Kurt… Would that be alright with you?" he asked tentatively.
Kurt bit his lip, ignoring the way Rachel was trying to discreetly pinch his waist. Of course he wanted Blaine to be with him on Thanksgiving – he craved Blaine's presence constantly these days. But he'd already made the decision not to tell his family about Blaine, and bringing him to Thanksgiving, even just as a friend, was sure to arouse their suspicion. Rachel pinched him harder and harder until he finally had to bat her hand away.
"Yeah. You should come," he said with a weak, but sincere smile.
Screw it, he thought. Life was too short to not do the things that would make him happy.
Blaine was maybe overthinking some parts of his plans for Thanksgiving with Kurt's family… Okay, he was overthinking absolutely everything about Thanksgiving with Kurt's family. He'd texted Kurt to ask for the hundredth time whether it was alright that he was coming. Once Kurt reassured him that he wanted him there, and his family was looking forward to meeting him, Blaine decided to ask the all-important question: what should he bring? Kurt insisted that Blaine not bring anything, as he'd be spending the entirety of Thursday morning and afternoon in the kitchen preparing for dinner – they would have more than enough food to go around.
Blaine's mother had raised him to know that it was in poor taste to visit a home for the first time without a gift offering. The problem was, what kind of family were the Hummel-Hudsons? He could do chocolate – but what if they were diabetic? Or what if they were passionately for either milk or dark and hated the other? He could do wine – but past experience had taught Blaine that people were very particular about what kinds of wines they liked. Besides, he didn't know the first thing about wine and would probably trust his wallet over the descriptions of the 'notes and undertones' which would likely just lead to embarrassment. He could bring flowers, but that would seem tacky on such a food centric holiday. He could bring a pie, but what if they already had the kind that he was planning on bringing? Finally, it came to him.
"Is that a—"
"Quiche!" Blaine announced proudly, cutting Kurt off with a wide grin. "I made it myself."
Kurt rolled his eyes as he took the dish from Blaine, setting it beside the dozens of other wrapped dishes on the kitchen counter. "I told you you didn't have to bring anything," Kurt scolded, gesturing towards the sea of food.
"Well, I'm unexpectedly meeting your family for the first time, and the key to making a good first impression is not coming empty-handed," Blaine said with a firm nod.
Kurt rolled his eyes once more, glancing around the kitchen to ensure that everyone was still occupied in the living room before he slid up closer to Blaine. "You look really handsome tonight," he whispered, running his fingers along Blaine's maroon tie.
"I was just going to say the same about you," Blaine teased, letting his hand glide along Kurt's hip, marveling at the lush cashmere of his golden sweater.
Blaine leaned in slightly, intending to steal a quick kiss, only for Kurt to turn away at the last moment, Blaine's lips puckered in mid-air.
"I'm sorry, but not here." Kurt frowned, squeezing Blaine's hand softly before removing it from his hip, shooting another worried glance at the living room. "Maybe later?" Kurt offered.
Blaine was disappointed by Kurt shooting him down, but immediately perked up at his offer. The prospect of kissing Kurt never failed to put him in good spirits.
"Alright. Let's rip this band-aid off – ready to meet them?" Kurt asked with a nervous smile.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Blaine replied, Kurt frowning at the lack of confidence in Blaine's reply.
"You know you don't have to do this," Kurt reminded him. "Rachel's not here yet, she can't pressure you into anything like she did yesterday."
Blaine turned to Kurt, lightly pinching his arm as opposed to reaching down to take his hand. "I want to do this," he assured one last time.
They stepped into the living room and Blaine tried to tell himself that the room didn't fall entirely silent because of his arrival. Blaine's cheeks flushed as three pairs of eyes glanced from him to Kurt like deers in headlights.
"Everyone, this is Blaine. He's a friend I met through work," Kurt announced, placing one hand high on Blaine's back as he pushed him towards the center of the living room.
The room remained silent, their gazes shifting to one another before someone finally stepped forward.
"It's a pleasure to have you join us, Blaine! My name is Carole, I'm Kurt's step-mom." Carole was the first to approach Blaine, at first reaching out for a hug but switching to a handshake at the last moment.
"I'm Finn," the boy on the couch, beside who Blaine assumed was Kurt's father, announced without standing up.
"Finn, manners!" Carole scolded out of the corner of her mouth, Kurt shooting a glare at him.
"Finn is my step-brother, who can't be bothered to introduce himself properly," Kurt said with a scowl.
"Boys, play nice, it's Thanksgiving," the man beside Finn said sternly. "I'm Burt, Kurt's father," Burt added, standing up and giving Blaine a firm, intimidating handshake.
"Thank you all so much for having me," Blaine thanked, his hand still being lightly crushed by Burt's grip.
Kurt guided Blaine to the armchairs beside the couch, pushing him to sit between himself and Finn. Finn gave Blaine a nod, but remained silent, looking over Blaine's shoulder to try to communicate something to Kurt with his eyes. Kurt shook his head, glaring right through his step-brother before shooting a pleading look to his father.
Burt was the first to speak up, catching sight of his son's unspoken cry for help, asking Blaine to tell them more about himself. Blaine kept things light, avoiding any talk of work or mentioning how exactly he and Kurt met. Burt and Carole quickly warmed up to him, chatting with him about his upbringing in Westerville, his parents – Carole lighting up when she realized she and Blaine's mother had worked together very briefly several years ago – and how he was liking New York. Blaine and Burt bounded over a mutual passion for college football, Finn refusing to chime in despite Burt's nudging him to join the conversation.
Finn remained stoic, arms crossed and sulking in his corner of the room. Kurt's glares were ignored despite their increasing intensity. Kurt attempted to grab his brother and pull him aside to find out what was going on, but Finn managed to deter him each time by either getting up and wandering to his room, or starting up a conversation with his mother.
The room stilled once again when the doorbell rang and Rachel swooped into the room, announcing her presence with a grand flourish, arms full of tinfoil wrapped trays. The trays clattered to the floor as Rachel locked eyes with Finn. Carole fussed around them, Kurt helping her with picking up the abandoned trays while Rachel and Finn walked slowly towards each other. Burt groaned as he turned away from the spectacle, leaning in to whisper to Blaine.
"These two have to make everything so dramatic," he complained.
"I'm home," Rachel whispered, now inches apart from Finn.
"You're home," he responded before they lunged at one another.
They were kissing passionately, as though no one was in the room, their hands traveling one another's bodies – the only thing holding them up was their sheer force of will. There was a collective roll of the eyes from the Hummel-Hudsons at the over enthusiastic display, Kurt and Carole escaping to the kitchen with the trays Rachel had dropped. Burt turned his attention to the television, inviting Blaine to do the same until Rachel and Finn decided to come up for air. He politely declined, sneaking off to the kitchen to help out Carole and Kurt.
"I'm so sorry you had to witness that. Finn and Rachel have a history of dramatic reunions," Kurt apologized, Carole nodding in agreement.
"I'm going to see if I can pry those two apart before they suck all the air out of the room," Carole said with a sigh before heading back into the living room, spatula in hand. Breaking Finn and Rachel apart before things got too graphic had become Carole's specialty.
As soon as the door closed behind Carole Kurt moved in closer to Blaine, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together behind the counter, where they'd be hidden from the view of any onlookers. "I'm really sorry about him."
"He doesn't seem to like me very much," Blaine replied meekly. Many of Blaine's insecurities were rooted in people not liking him, and he hadn't even had a chance to talk to Finn before the other boy had seemingly made up his mind about him.
"It's not you, I promise," Kurt assured. "I've never brought a guy home with me before, and I'm sure Rachel's already gone ahead and told him all about you, even though I specifically told her not to," he said through gritted teeth, his grip on Blaine's hand tightening. "He's just playing the part of the overprotective step brother."
"It's sweet," Blaine said, smiling warmly at Kurt.
"Really? It's not creepy and weird and making you want to run as far away as possible from me?" Kurt asked in one rushed breath, cheeks glistening pink.
Blaine laughed softly, lifting their interlocked fingers and pressing a sweet kiss to each of Kurt's knuckles as he spoke. "Nothing could ever make me run far away from you."
"Not even my step brother?"
"Not even your step brother," Blaine assured, setting their hands back down in their hiding spot before Kurt could worry.
Blaine helped Kurt salvage the dishes Rachel had dropped, scooping lumps of tofu that had broken apart on impact until they vaguely resembled tofurkey. They'd done what they could by the time Carole returned to the kitchen, Rachel in tow. Rachel lit up at the sight of Blaine alongside Kurt, opening her mouth to greet him, only for Kurt to stuff a dinner roll into her mouth before she could speak.
"It's rude to talk with your mouth full, Rachel." He gave her a snide look before looping his arm through hers and roughly pulling her out of the kitchen.
Carole rolled her eyes and shrugged. "I'll never understand those kids." She sighed, Blaine biting back a laugh. He offered to help her with setting the table, which she gladly accepted, ladling his arms full of appetizers and entrees before sending him out to the dining room. Kurt and Rachel reappeared to help out with bringing things to the dining room, Rachel glancing at Blaine with wide-eyes and a tight lipped smile every few minutes. Kurt did his best to keep distance between the two, keeping Rachel thoroughly distracted by sending Finn her way.
Once the table was set they took their seats, Kurt very narrowly rearranging the seating at the last moment to ensure that Blaine was seated between him and Burt as opposed to beside Rachel. Finn attempted to begin serving himself, only for Carole to smack his hand away with her faithful spatula.
"You know the rule, Finn!" she scolded, clearing her throat and signaling for Burt to begin.
"For our newcomers this year." Burt looked to Rachel and Blaine. "We like to take a moment before we dig in to our Thanksgiving feast to reflect and say what we're thankful for. Yes, it's cliche, we know, but Carole and I are suckers for family moments like these, so if you would be so kind as to humor us, we'd appreciate it."
"Can I start?" Finn asked as soon as Burt finished, raising his hand into the air as though he was in a classroom.
Burt and Carole shot each other a look. Finn was typically the most adamant protester of this tradition, wanting to get to the food portion of the evening as quickly as possible.
"Take it away, Finn."
Finn straightened up, putting his hand at his side and turning to face Rachel. He reached for her hands, taking them in his – Blaine could hear an 'oh boy' muttered under Burt's breath.
"This year I'm thankful for Rachel. I mean… every year I'm thankful for her, but now she's this big Broadway star and she has this awesome life in New York, and I'm just really grateful that she's letting me be a part of her journey."
Rachel wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye, careful not to smudge her mascara. She gave Finn a blessedly brief kiss in gratitude, turning back to the table misty-eyed and touched to her core.
"This year I'm thankful for Finn. For keeping me grounded when I thought I'd lost my way," Rachel said, a tear sliding down her cheek as she leaned in for a more passionate kiss this time. The table groaned, waiting until they had pulled apart to continue on.
"Like every year I'm thankful for my family coming together for the holidays." Carole leaned over to nudge her shoulder against Finn's, her son ducking his head bashfully. "But this year I'm also thankful for Burt's clean bill of health." She rested her hand atop Burt's, giving her husband a warm smile as Kurt and Finn nodded in agreement.
Kurt had briefly mentioned his father's spotty medical history during one of their many phone conversations. He'd mentioned that Burt had had a heart attack during Kurt's time at NYADA, causing him to fly back home to Lima to help Carole as best he could in getting him back on his feet – the entire ordeal nearly setting him back an entire semester's worth of classes. Kurt frequently worried about his father's health, the same way his father worried about his son's adjusting to adulthood in the city. The distance between them only caused both of them to worry more than was necessary, with little to do to quell their concerns.
"I'll keep this brief, since I know we just want to get to the food already," Burt said, everyone laughing politely. "This year I'm thankful that I get the peace of mind of knowing I get to have several more years with my family."
Kurt reached across Blaine to squeeze his father's hand, the same way Carole had. Burt smiled, giving both Carole and Kurt's hands reassuring squeezes. Blaine's eyes widened as everyone turned to him expectantly, forgetting that it was now his turn. He stammered at first, wishing he'd used the bit of time he had to come up with something.
"W-well… I'm thankful that I'm finishing up my last year at NYU. And…" Blaine glanced at Kurt out of the corner of his eye, biting his lip. "I'm thankful that I met Kurt. And Rachel. They're wonderful people," Blaine added, to be safe. Rachel perked up, breaking away from Finn to admire at the way Kurt looked at Blaine.
Kurt gazed longingly at Blaine, wishing he could reach out and take Blaine's hand in his and hold him close the way Rachel and Finn had. Finn cleared his throat, urging Kurt to say his piece so they could finally move on to the food. Kurt blinked, breaking his eye contact with Blaine and turning back to the table, flushed and distracted.
"I'm… I'm thankful for my dad and his health, as always," he began, grinning at his father and Carole. "But this year, I'm also thankful for Blaine. This year has been really challenging in lots of ways, and I'm grateful I have a friend like him to keep me sane," Kurt finished, turning to Blaine and giving him a shy smile.
"Aren't friends great?" Rachel mused, still gazing at Kurt and Blaine.
Everyone's plates clattered as Kurt attempted to kick Rachel under the table, missing her foot by inches and smacking the table with full force. Thankfully, the thud was drowned out by the sound of Finn diving right into the food, pulling a drumstick off the turkey and wolfing it down at animalistic speed.
"It's better if you don't look directly at him," Kurt whispered to Blaine when he caught sight of the open mouthed stare he was giving his step-brother.
"It's like a car accident, I can't stop looking," Blaine said in awe, captivated by the way Finn managed to shovel in so much food in one gulp.
Kurt took Blaine's chin in his hands and pulled his face away from Finn's direction, turning Blaine to face him instead. "Why don't you focus on something more appealing?" he whispered just quietly enough for only Blaine to hear.
Blaine bit back a smile, taking a risk and resting a hand against Kurt's thigh, careful to keep his wandering hand concealed by the tablecloth. Blaine watched goosebumps rise along Kurt's arm, but he didn't move away from Blaine's touch, serving himself some mashed potatoes as though nothing had happened. Blaine let his hand linger as long as he could, tracing circles along the seam of Kurt's inner thigh, boldly climbing further and further up until his knuckles brushed against the tablecloth. He pulled his hand away when Burt asked him to pass the sweet potato casserole, Blaine smirking at the quiet, breathy sound that fell from Kurt's lips when the contact was finally broken.
Blaine kept his hands to himself for the remainder of dinner, though the temptation only grew stronger as the night progressed. Carole was generous with her pours when the bottles of white wine Rachel had brought were popped open. After nearly three and a half glasses Blaine's head was swimming just the tiniest bit, and the one slim sane corner of his brain was the only thing keeping him from pulling Kurt into his arms and nuzzling into the sweet, flawless skin of his neck.
The buzz spread throughout the room as everyone indulged on more food and drink than they'd typically allow, limbs loose and giggles bubbling up over the silliest of things. By the time they'd all stumbled into the living room post-meal the only person who hadn't succumbed to the lure of too much wine was Burt, who was on a strict alcohol free diet. He rolled his eyes as Finn and Kurt argued over what stores to visit first during Black Friday, both of them getting far too heated and red in the face, despite the fact that they were both too inebriated to complete their sentences. Rachel and Blaine held the boys back from one another as insults started to fly, Burt putting an end to things after Finn called Kurt a 'fashion monkey.'
"Enough, new rule, no fighting on Thanksgiving!" Burt announced, banging a hand on the arm of the couch to enact it as law.
Finn and Kurt sat at opposite ends of the couch, their arms crossed and pouts firmly in place as they refused to look at one another. Rachel did her best to console Finn, assuring him that she could drive him to the mall tomorrow morning so that he and Kurt wouldn't kill each other over where to go first. Blaine sat beside Kurt and did his best to console him without arousing any suspicion from the others.
Somehow Blaine wound up with his head in Kurt's lap – Kurt hyper focused on running his fingers through Blaine's loose curls. Kurt needed something to occupy his hands to keep them from wringing Finn's neck, and Blaine was happy to offer himself as a suitable alternative.
"You should wear it like this more often, without all the gel," Kurt observed as he wound a curl tight around his finger and released it.
"Are you saying you don't like the gel?" Blaine teased.
Kurt glanced around him, ensuring that no one was eavesdropping before he turned back to Blaine, leaning in slightly closer to him when he spoke. "I like you all the time – but a little bit more so without the gel."
"I'm wounded." Blaine clutched his heart and pulled himself out of Kurt's lap and pretended to keel over beside him. Kurt doubled over in laughter, unable to control himself as hysterical tears began to flow freely down his cheeks. Everything was too funny, too infuriating, too wonderful.
Burt watched fondly as Blaine resurrected himself long enough to tenderly wipe away Kurt's tears, holding his face in his hands until the laughter had ceased and the tears had dried. Burt leaned over to turn up the volume on the TV as the opening chords of one of his favorite classics began to play.
"C'mon, babe, we've gotta show the kids how it's done," he called out to Carole, holding out his hand and pulling her into his arms as they danced along to Sinatra's You Make Me Feel So Young.
Rachel bounced up to her feet, pulling Finn up with her and guiding him to the center of the room. Finn and his notorious two left feet stumbled over Rachel for a few seconds before finally finding the right rhythm, a stupidly wide grin on his face as he finally got into the swing of things. Blaine rolled himself gently off of the couch, getting down on one knee before Kurt, who was watching Burt and Carole adoringly.
"Can I have this dance?" Blaine held his hand out for Kurt to take – the other boy stifling a hiccup and a giggle behind his hand before happily taking Blaine's in his.
Blaine guided them to a spot a safe distance from the other dancing couples – and an especially safe distance from Finn, who had lost his rhythm and tripped over the carpet, sending a vase to the ground that would've shattered it had it not landed on the carpet. The dancing couples continued on, paying no mind to the fallen vase.
Blaine relished the rare moment in which he could press himself close to Kurt without the fear of detection, his hand on Kurt's waist, their palms clasped together. They swayed together slow at first, finding their rhythm with one another before speeding things up. Blaine happily spun Kurt, pulling him in close to his chest each time he spun back into him, letting his lips glide just so against the back of his neck. They sang along with Burt and Rachel, Carole too busy giggling and Finn too focused on not tripping again to join in.
Perhaps it was the wine, or the high of being so close to Kurt after so much longing, that brought back that same boldness that had brought them together all those months ago. Without warning Blaine pulled Kurt in and dipped him, the other boy gasping at the unexpected move, their faces mere inches apart as Blaine gingerly lifted Kurt back up. Their eyes locked as they kept dancing, their bodies moving in closer and closer, toeing the line of what was appropriate for such an audience. Blaine pushed his luck, attempting to dip Kurt once more, chasing that sensation that had settled low in his stomach when he'd done it the first time.
They weren't so lucky the second time – Kurt's foot slipping just so on the carpet, pulling Blaine down with him as they crashed against the ground. Blaine collapsed atop Kurt, catching himself just quickly enough to keep their heads from colliding. Kurt groaned, reaching back to cup the bump that was now forming on the back of his head.
"Are you okay?! I'm so sorry, I should've warned you before I did that," Blaine apologized frantically, his hand flying up to cup Kurt's to ensure that he wasn't seriously injured or bleeding.
"Don't apologize," Kurt mumbled, shaking himself off and lifting up onto his elbows, swallowing hard as he realized Blaine's face – and more importantly, his lips – were now closer than before.
"Alright, no more dancing for you two," Burt teased – the other couples had stopped dancing to ensure that Kurt and Blaine were alright.
Blaine looked up, realizing that they were completely surrounded by Kurt's friends and family, several sets of eyes giving them suspicious looks. Blaine flew off of Kurt immediately, brushing himself off quickly before helping Kurt stand back up – both of them flushed to the roots of their hair. They stood a safe distance apart as Carole cooed over them, looking them over to ensure that no damage had been done to either of them.
"Maybe this is a sign that it's time to get ready for bed." Burt stretched his arms over his head, letting out a drawn out yawn. Finn nodded in agreement, shooting Rachel a knowing look.
"Blaine, if you don't feel comfortable driving home tonight you're welcome to sleep on the air mattress in Kurt's room," Carole offered sweetly, glancing knowingly between the two boys.
Kurt bit his lip as he awaited Blaine's response. Blaine went stiff, turning to Kurt for guidance. "I wouldn't want to intrude on Kurt's space…"
"You wouldn't be intruding," Kurt answered far more quickly and eagerly than he should have.
Carole bit back a grin, patting the two boys on the back. "I'll go get the air mattress set up."
Rachel and Finn had managed to sneak away while Carole, Kurt, and Blaine worked on blowing up the air mattress, running straight for Finn's room and locking the door behind them.
"Doors open, you know the rule!" Carole called up to Finn.
"Mom, I'm an adult!" Finn protested through the door.
"You still live in our house under our rules," Burt called back, backing up his wife.
Blaine snuck a confused look at Kurt – curious if the open door rule would apply to them as well. As far as Burt and Carole knew, he and Kurt were nothing but good friends – plus, they technically didn't even know that Blaine was gay. Kurt shrugged, but held up two sets of crossed fingers behind his back, Blaine doing the same for luck.
Blaine offered to take the reins on getting the air mattress set up, insisting that Carole let him handle the heavy lifting. Kurt agreed, doing his best to send Carole off to bed with Burt, who had already made his way to the bedroom to retire for his post-Thanksgiving rest. Carole fussed for a bit, pulling spare pillows and blankets from the hall closet, arranging them just so before finally pattering off to her own room.
The mood of the room shifted the instant the door closed behind Carole. A simmering tension lingered in the air as Kurt and Blaine locked eyes from across the room. Kurt dropped the quilt he'd been unfolding onto his bed carelessly, biting his lip as he tentatively took a step backwards towards the en-suite bathroom.
"I'll get ready for bed first."
His hand was on the knob, his body turned just slightly when Blaine launched across the room to close the distance between them. One hand went to Kurt's hip, pulling his body up against Blaine's, the other to his cheek, holding him steady as Blaine leaned up to capture his lips. He pressed Kurt gently against the wood of the door behind him, his thumb gliding beneath the fabric of Kurt's sweater to swipe at the bare patch of skin.
"Sorry," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips when they pulled apart moments later. "It's just I've wanted to do that all night."
Kurt responded by pulling Blaine in by the waist, their hips slotting together. "And I've wanted to do this all night." He pulled Blaine in by the tie and kissed him until he was vibrating in his own skin.
Kurt finally broke the kiss with one last harsh suck on Blaine's bottom lip, leaving him quivering when the other boy managed to slide out from underneath him. "Be back in a minute," he whispered before disappearing into the bathroom.
Blaine exhaled harshly, running his hands through his curls as he collapsed back onto the air mattress. He curled up atop the covers, willing his body to cease its trembling, still reeling from the breathless wonder that was kissing Kurt. Kurt re-emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of lavender and lemon scented steam, his hair falling gracefully over his eyes as he shrugged on a loose tank top. He slid into his own bed, body hidden beneath the covers.
"You can join me if you want," he offered, Blaine immediately jumping at the chance to get closer to him.
Kurt laughed softly, lifting up the covers for Blaine to slot alongside him, grinning at the warm pressure of Blaine's body against his. Blaine had removed his button down shirt while Kurt had been gone, stripped down to his undershirt and slacks – his clothed legs brushing against Kurt's bare skin. Before Blaine's hands could return to Kurt's body their lips are pressed together once more, their hands lingering in the space between them before slowly mapping their way across each other.
They kissed lazily for what felt like hours – Blaine slowly becoming light headed as his limbs grew tired and the breaks in between kisses for breath become shorter and shorter. Kurt was the one to finally break the kiss for longer than a few seconds, resting his forehead against Blaine's, the tips of their noses brushing.
"Thank you for coming tonight." Kurt whispered, his breath warm against Blaine's kiss-swollen lips.
"Thank you for having me," Blaine replied, pressing a sweet kiss to Kurt's forehead.
Slowed down by their exhaustion and the downhill after effects of all the wine, neither of them could find the energy to do more than exchange slow kisses, fingertips exploring patches of bare skin at a glacial pace, the frantic, desperate need to touch and be touched melting away into a desire to just be close to one another. Kurt was the first to fall asleep, his chest rising and falling beneath Blaine's arm, looped firmly around his waist. Blaine gingerly pulled Kurt in closer to him, smiling when the other boy snuffled in his sleep, nuzzling against Blaine's chest on his own. Blaine considered pulling himself away to quickly change out of his slacks and socks, but couldn't bring himself to break his hold on Kurt, falling asleep in the midst of his admiring just how peaceful Kurt looked curled up against him.
The next morning – or at least Blaine assumed it was morning – he was awoken by a tickle against his jaw. He sat up slightly, startled when he realized he didn't recognize his surroundings. A warm body slid into his lap, straddling his hips. Blaine groaned as his hands flew up to grip Kurt's waist, memories of the previous night rushing back to him.
"Well, good morning to you too," Blaine mumbled as Kurt's lips glided along his collarbone, jolting him out of his half-asleep daze.
"Good morning," Kurt replied, nipping at the skin beneath Blaine's collarbone, licking over the bruise that had already begun to form.
Kurt's lips trailed up along Blaine's neck to his jaw to his lips, his palms resting atop Blaine's chest. Blaine's fingers traced the smooth exposed patch of skin between Kurt's tank top and his boxer briefs, pulling the fabric up along with him as his hands roamed up Kurt's back.
"Is this okay?" Kurt asked breathily once they broke apart, pulling back and resting on Blaine's thighs.
Blaine responded by pulling at the hem of Kurt's tank top, lifting it up and over his head, a moan falling from Kurt's lips as Blaine's chilled palms slid along the pale skin of his chest. "More than okay," he finally replied, lips nipping at the curve of Kurt's ear, palms curling on the clothed swell of his ass.
Kurt panted beneath Blaine's hold, arching his neck and sliding his hips until they were flush against Blaine's once more. Blaine pulled back to take hold of Kurt's hip, guiding him until his ass was snug over Blaine's cock, already straining against the thin material of his slacks. Kurt's breath hitched at the feeling of Blaine already hard against him, his fingers nimbly sliding between their bodies to undo his button and zipper. Blaine whined when Kurt pulled himself out of Blaine's grip, sliding down his body and pulling down his slacks enough to mouth wetly at his cock through the fabric of his underwear.
Blaine hissed at the unexpected contact, his fingers curling in Kurt's sleep mussed hair. It had been so long since he'd last had the pleasure of feeling Kurt against his skin – his body quickly going into overload, everything becoming too much too fast. He hardened beneath Kurt's mouth embarrassingly quickly, his cock leaking before Kurt even had a chance to remove his underwear.
"I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that," Blaine warned, frowning when Kurt pulled away from him, licking his lips wickedly.
"It's a good thing I've already prepped myself then," he replied with an impish smirk, ignoring Blaine's look of shock in favor of pulling his own underwear off, followed by Blaine's slacks and underwear.
"Wha— when?" Blaine asked exasperatedly, his words ending with a moan as Kurt slid back onto his lap, his cock sliding between Kurt's cheeks, catching on his slick hole.
"While you were sleeping," Kurt answered casually, grinding himself against Blaine's cock.
"God, you're so hot," Blaine murmured before rolling his tongue along one of Kurt's nipples, lapping slow circles until he could feel the nub harden beneath his tongue.
"I… I don't have any condoms here." Blaine stiffened at Kurt's words, feeling the other boy tense up once he sensed Blaine's hesitation.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Blaine asked, begrudgingly pulling himself away from Kurt's chest.
Kurt nodded, his expression oddly shy in comparison to how bold and forward he'd been just seconds earlier. "I haven't been with anyone but you for the past year," he admitted, turning his head to conceal his blush, only for Blaine to grab his chin and gently turn him back to face him.
Blaine always took advantage of the free STD screenings through NYU's health center – his last screening having been over the previous winter after an ill-advised hook up with his ex. "I haven't been with anyone else either." His fingers cupped the sharp edge of Kurt's jaw, pulling him down for a slow, tender kiss.
He'd never engaged in unprotected sex before, and the thought had never even crossed his mind. Yet, the thought of something so intimate with Kurt made his heart race, his body tingling with the instant craving to be closer to Kurt than he'd ever been with anyone else. Blaine's fingers gripped Kurt's waist tightly as he seated himself over Blaine's cock once more, digging hard enough to press bruises into the supple skin. Kurt coated his hand with lube, generously applying it to Blaine's cock.
Blaine let out an obscene moan as Kurt began to sink down on his cock, Kurt cutting the sound off as he crashed their lips together. He kept Blaine's lips on his as he established a steady rhythm, rocking his hips down against Blaine's at an almost teasing pace. It took all the strength Blaine had left in him not to cry out at the euphoric feeling of Kurt stretching and tightening around him, tight and pliant and so devastatingly beautiful.
Kurt had the self restraint of a saint as his lips parted in ecstasy with each drag down the length of Blaine's cock, but only emitting the quietest of sounds, painfully aware of his family in the rooms above them. Blaine fell flat against the mattress, Kurt's fingers curling around the damp material of Blaine's undershirt for balance. Blaine's palms alternated from gripping Kurt's hips, pulling him down with enough force to make their skin slap wetly with each thrust, to kneading the soft globes of Kurt's ass, his fingers leaving rough red marks in their wake. Blaine did what he could to make himself last as long as possible – going so far as to try to conjure up the image of his brother obnoxiously shoving his tongue down his (now ex) girlfriend's throat at Christmas dinner the previous year.
The sight of Kurt alone, eyes closed and lips parted, working at his own pace to pleasure himself atop Blaine was enough to send him toppling over the edge if he let it. Blaine kept himself distracted in any way he could, letting out a stream of jumbled words to keep his mind focused on something, anything else. Blaine could hear Kurt giggling close to his ear, his hips stilling for a moment.
"You can cum if you want to," he teased, taking advantage of his positioning to nibble and tug on Blaine's earlobe.
"You sure?" Blaine's palm glided soothingly along the knobs of Kurt's spine.
Kurt nodded, giving Blaine a quick kiss before lifting himself back up. He bounced on Blaine's cock with more force than before, using one hand to brace himself and the other to stroke his own cock. Kurt's self restraint finally began to crumble as Blaine held him in a bruising tight grip, bucking his own hips up to meet each of Kurt's thrusts. Kurt sang out a symphony of profanities as he gave up on his own resolve, reminding himself once again that life was too short to not do the things he enjoyed – and if that meant crying out to the high heavens while riding Blaine into his boyhood mattress, so be it.
Blaine came first, letting out a choked, guttural sob of a sound as his vision was clouded by stars. He kept his vice grip on Kurt's hips, letting him ride out the last remaining moments before he reached his own climax, spilling along Blaine's chest before falling forward, just barely catching himself by bracing his arms at Blaine's sides. Blaine carefully wrapped his arm around Kurt's waist, flipping them until he was hovering over Kurt, shifting to pull himself out of the other boy's clenched heat when Kurt's hands went to Blaine's cheeks, locking his ankles around Blaine's waist, keeping them pressed close.
"I need you to remember this moment." The words came out as more of a command than a sentimental statement.
"Why?"
"Because you're about to see me at my worst."
Blaine's brow furrowed, attempting to shift himself further from Kurt to get a better look at him, only for Kurt to tighten his legs' hold around Blaine. Blaine retaliated by pulling Kurt's hands from his cheeks, pining his wrists down beside his head.
"Is this the part where you reveal that you've been a serial killer this whole time?" Blaine whispered hotly against Kurt's ear.
Kurt giggled, shaking his head and moving away from the tickle of Blaine's words against his ear. "Much, much worse," he mocked.
Blaine leaned back, but kept his hold on Kurt's wrists firm. "You've lost me."
Kurt bit back a grin, a new, non-sexual sparkle in his eyes. "You're coming Black Friday shopping with me."
It was then that Blaine recalled Kurt's argument with Finn the previous evening. They'd gone back and forth about when to wake up for their shopping spree, Kurt insisting that they get up as early as possible, which Finn passionately opposed.
"Kurt, what time is it?" Blaine asked tentatively, just realizing that there was only the faintest traces of sunlight streaming in through the window beside Kurt's bed.
Kurt wriggled his left wrist out of Blaine's hold, finding his phone in a tangle of sheets. "Five A.M," he answered nonchalantly.
Blaine gawked, looking out the window again to confirm that the sun was definitely only just beginning to rise. He carefully pulled himself out of Kurt, the other boy whimpering at the sensation as Blaine collapsed beside him.
"So you woke me up at 5am to have sex all as part of your ploy to get me to go Black Friday shopping with you?" he asked with a raised brow.
"For the record, I've been up since 4:30, and you were always going to come Black Friday shopping with me, I just figured the morning sex could be an advanced reward for your bravery," Kurt replied with a shrug.
"Does this mean there's a reward for surviving this harrowing excursion?" Blaine's arm slid around Kurt's middle, pulling him snug against his chest.
Kurt hummed in thought, resting his head against Blaine's bicep. "I think we can have something arranged for good behavior."
All jokes aside, Kurt really was an entirely different person on Black Friday. After some lighthearted t easing he rolled out of bed and demanded Blaine do the same. Kurt pulled Blaine along into the shower with him, only to enforce a strict no touching rule – they were there to save time and water and that was all. When Blaine attempted to slide a hand along Kurt's side he was smacked away with a loofah. When he went in for a quick kiss while they lathered one another's hair Kurt turned away, giving Blaine his cheek instead.
"Is your plan to torture me until I give in to your every wish?" Blaine begged when Kurt turned his back to him.
"Maybe," Kurt replied, turning to give Blaine a wink over his shoulder.
Everyone was still fast asleep when they finally made their way to the living room, dressed and ready for battle. Kurt briefed Blaine on the rules of Black Friday as they drove to the nearby mall – the first, nothing stands in Kurt's way, including family and cute boys with lingering hands – and the second, never buy anything that isn't at least sixty-five percent off. The rules were simple enough, and yet Blaine still found himself breaking the former when he slid an arm around Kurt's waist while he went over a map of the mall he'd printed out, Kurt nearly biting his arm off in the process.
"If you can't keep your hands to yourself then you can stay in the car," Kurt warned sternly.
Blaine swallowed hard – Kurt really did take shopping seriously. He nodded his acknowledgement of the rules before returning to Kurt's side. He stood by diligently while Kurt mapped out what stores he wanted to hit first, making notes on his map of what he'd need to focus on. He struggled to keep up with Kurt once they entered the mall, stunned to find that there were already hundreds of people roaming about.
"Is there something in the water in Lima that makes everyone go nuts for Black Friday?" Blaine asked Kurt as he caught sight of two women brawling over a striped sweater at Macy's.
"You're lucky you've never experienced Black Friday in New York. That's how I got this scar." Kurt pointed to a pink, raised mark just below his chin. "Never again," he muttered darkly.
Surprisingly, Kurt was the one to break his own rule. After nearly losing Blaine at the Gap Kurt made sure to hold the other boy's hand in a vice grip, never letting go as they navigated their way through the maze of the mall. When Kurt needed to briefly let go of Blaine's hands to fold up a sweater he decided wasn't worth the hassle he didn't flinch away when Blaine's arm wrapped around his waist.
After Kurt assured him that Rachel and Finn would be spending the day at a mall closer to Rachel's house, and that Burt and Carole refused to participate in the madness the tension in Blaine's shoulders lifted. For once they didn't have to peek around every corner or scan every room to ensure that no one they knew was around. They were free to link fingers and exchange mindless quick kisses without having to think five steps ahead of anyone who might see them. Kurt saw a handful of people from his high school but paid them no mind, usually waving hello before shuttling himself and Blaine away. High school hadn't been the best for Kurt, and that was all he was willing to say in the moment. Rachel was the only real friend he'd made and kept, and he was perfectly fine with that.
They wandered through store after store, Blaine playing the role of the dutiful partner, holding hangers and stacks of boxes for Kurt while he browsed for gifts for himself and for his family. He gave opinions when necessary, and weighed in whenever a tough decision had to be made. He kept Kurt grounded and told him cheesy knock-knock jokes whenever he found himself raring to attack another shopper until he'd calmed down. When Kurt nearly got into a fist fight with a woman over a pair of boots he dragged Blaine to the bathroom with him, insisting that he needed a make out session to extinguish his boiling frustration – Blaine happily followed along, more than willing to help.
While Blaine was being exposed to an entirely new side of Kurt he wouldn't have said that it was him at his worst. There was something fascinating about watching Kurt shop. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as he calculated where to go next, what to grab, what was worth the money and what wasn't. His eyes would sparkle every time they caught sight of something he'd had on his list, letting out a triumphant squeal of joy every time he managed to snag it before someone else did, or a territorial growl when someone beat him to it. It was captivating, like watching a lion out on the hunt.
They settled down hours later in the food court for breakfast – Blaine astonished that he'd managed to make it this long without food or coffee. Kurt pulled his map back out, making more notes and humming to himself while he picked at the remains of his blueberry muffin.
"Have I scared you off yet?" he asked when he finally looked up from his notes.
Blaine laughed, shaking his head as he took a sip of coffee. "Not just yet, but we still haven't hit Nordstrom."
"A test only few will survive," Kurt mused.
Before Kurt could turn back to his map Blaine reached out for his cheek, pulling him back towards him and kissing him softly. Kurt jumped slightly in surprise, dropping the pen in his hand but quickly reciprocating the kiss, his hand resting atop Blaine's. He didn't pull away when the kiss lasted longer than anticipated, letting himself stay in Blaine's warm embrace for just a moment longer. Blaine's thumb stroked along the apple of Kurt's cheek when they pulled apart, tracing the dusting of freckles.
"It's going to be really easy for me to fall in love with someone like you," Blaine admitted, Kurt inhaling sharply.
Blaine was beginning to regret being so candid with Kurt as he watched the other boy's eyes flicker around the food court, averting his gaze. He opened his mouth, intending to apologize, only to find Kurt's lips on his before he could speak. Kurt kissed him harder than Blaine had earlier, kissing him with purpose and intention, his hand resting on Blaine's knee.
When they pulled apart Kurt was biting back a smile, turning shyly back to his map, glancing around them once for good measure to ensure that no one was staring or jeering. Blaine grinned, tearing his eyes away from Kurt to sheepishly turn back to his coffee and croissant. They sat beside one another in comfortable silence, their blushes slowly beginning to fade. Kurt rested his free hand atop Blaine's, his thumb absentmindedly gliding back and forth along Blaine's knuckles.
They finished out the rest of their day without any mention of Blaine's confession or further talk of love. Kurt's grip on Blaine's hand had loosened from its vice grip, choosing to interlock their fingers instead. His first rule had slackened considerably. Kurt leaned in to Blaine whenever they were stuck waiting on seemingly endless lines, resting his head on his shoulder or chest, whispering in his ear or tracing his fingers along the lining of his sweater. In Nordstrom Blaine fumbled when Kurt asked him to grab the last of a pair of dark wash jeans, grabbing the wrong pair by accident and letting an overzealous soccer mom snatch up the pair Kurt had wanted. He'd expected a tirade, an explosion, or a combination of the two. Instead Kurt sighed and shrugged, crossing the item off of his list.
"I guess you can't win them all." He gave Blaine a sympathetic kiss on the cheek before pushing their cart along.
That's when Blaine knew that even if he hadn't said it, Kurt felt the same way.