A/N: This chappie is "Sexy" and next is parts of "Silly Loves Songs" and "Blame It On the Alcohol" because I'm cool enough to go out of order like that. Yup. Okay. Enjoy. And review. Please. And maybe check out my Niff story, "Kiss Me Quick." If you want. Yeah. Okay. You may read now.
"Kurt." The brunette looked towards his father, who was standing at the kitchen table. The middle-aged Hummel looked worried and the slightest bit uncomfortable, so Kurt looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue. "I think it's time you and I had…The Talk."
Kurt shook his head furiously. "No."
"Yes."
"No. No. No, it's not."
"Yes, Kurt—Kurt!"
But the teenager was already stuffing his fingers in his ears and making "la, la, la" noises as he continued through the kitchen. His father was too fast however, and Kurt ended up being shoved into a seat.
"Look, Kurt, just listen, okay? Neither of us want to do this, but we're going to sit down and talk about it and we'll both be better men because of it."
"Oh my god," Kurt said softly. "Dad, seriously—"
His father sat down across from him. "So I think the first thing you need to know is—"
"I know about sex, Dad!"
Burt sighed. "You know about STDs and condoms. I know you, Kurt. You would rather gouge out your eyes than search for the graphic details on the internet." And Kurt had to agree. Porn was disgusting and he never, ever, ever wanted to see that again because ohmygod they all have mothers and what would those mothers think of them and why would you get that tattooed there? "So these"—Burt slid a few laminated pamphlets his way, the titles of which were enough to make him want to roll his eyes—"are so that you can go over the…mechanics of what you'll be doing one day."
"Awesome, great, thanks—glad we had this talk."
"Sit."
Kurt flopped back into his seat, resisting the urge to bolt upstairs and lock the door.
"Look…" Burt sighed. "That guy that you went out with, that gave you that…hickey." He rolled his shoulders, struggling through the words. "I just want you to be safe, Kurt. When you're intimate with someone in that way, you gotta know that you're exposing yourself. You're never gonna be more vulnerable and that scares the hell out of a lot of guys. With two guys you've got two people who think that sex is just sex. It's gonna be easier to come by and once you start, you aren't gonna want to stop." Yeah. Kurt knew about that part. He'd already found himself unable to stop Blaine from haunting his dreams since that night over Winter break… He almost melted at the memory. "You gotta know that it means something.
"It's doing something to you, to your heart, to your self-esteem, even though it feels like you're just having fun." Oh. Well. Kurt knew that it was more than just sex with him and Blaine. They were…intimate. And they were capable of being intimate without…ahem, physical intimacy. No matter how much both of them were interested in that physical intimacy. "When you're ready, I want you to be able to do everything. But when you're ready, I want you to use it as a way to connect to another person." He exaggerated the last part, silently begging his son to not have sex for any other reason. "Don't throw yourself around like you don't matter, Kurt. Because you matter."
Despite the awkwardness of the situation and the fact that Kurt actually knew slightly more about gay sex than he father was giving him credit for, he couldn't help but feel touched. Nevertheless, Kurt knew that any second now Blaine would be waiting for him to call him and so he had to go. Like right now. "Is that all?"
Burt nodded. "That's all. Can I make you some toast?"
"I think I'll just take it up to my room to eat while I read over my new pamphlets."
When Kurt was upstairs, safe in his bed, pamphlets laying open on his pillow and toast-laden plate on his side-table, he grabbed his phone. It wasn't two full rings before Blaine's voice was saying, thick and raspy, "Hey, there."
"My dad just gave me the sex talk."
There was a pause. And then Blaine was laughing.
"Don't laugh!" Kurt said too loudly. He glanced at his door and quieted his voice. "Don't laugh. It's not funny. It was horribly awkward and painful and I never want to go through that again. Besides, we're not even close to full penetrative sex."
This made Blaine stop laughing. "Oh?"
"I, uh…well, I just mean…"
"Kurt, it's okay. I understand that you're not ready."
"I didn't say that." The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Blaine made a contemplative noise. "So you are ready?"
"I…I don't know? I think so. I mean, I'm assuming you've…done it before, more than once, and I just don't want to be that stupid virgin that you have to coddle the whole time."
"Kurt—"
"I mean, basically everything we've done has been initiated by you. Except for the first time. You jerked me off in your car, you blew me on New Year's, and you were the one who asked if I wanted to have phone sex last week to make me feel better after stupid Rachel Berry found about my stupid crush."
"You're making me sound like I have a one-track mind towards sex."
"Blaine, I was practically sobbing because I couldn't convince Rachel I wasn't madly in love with you and you said, I quote, 'Would phone sex make you feel better?'"
"Well it did, didn't it?"
Yes. God, yes. One of the greatest experiences of his life. Kurt shook his head to clear his thoughts. "That's not the point. I want to feel like I'm…capable. Like…I'm a capable of doing things to you that no one else can do. I want you to act the stupid, blubbering virgin." Kurt sighed. "I just…I'm frustrated. You're seductive. I have as much sexual appeal and knowledge as a…a baby penguin!"
"Kurt, you do amazing things to me. God, you're…you're incredible! You're sexy, you're seductive, you're hot, you're ridiculously attractive. I guess I just don't act like a blubbering virgin because I'm not one, but neither are you, Kurt." Kurt could hear his voice go softer, more tender. "You're not a baby penguin. You're adorable, yes, but god if I don't want to corrupt you every second of every day."
"Why don't you then?" Kurt demanded. And he really wanted to know. "When we're alone, why do we always just watch movies and cuddle and read together and stuff?" You just said I was sexy, so why don't you make me feel like I am?
"Because you don't know if you're ready. And I'm not going to push you into this. I love you, Kurt. I'll wait forever."
"You don't have to wait forever," he said softly. He wanted this with Blaine. He wanted more. Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath. He wanted the intimacy, the realism. He wanted to know what everything was like. He wanted to make Blaine lose it. "I'm ready. I am. Honestly."
There was nothing from the other end of the line and Kurt was about to ask if Blaine was still there, when the tired voice said, "You know that I'll never pressure you. So you have complete control. Over all of this. From now on, it's in your hands. I won't do anything unless you ask."
"I think this is all a ploy to get me to beg for you."
"Kurt."
The brunette sighed, curling up and staring accusingly at his pamphlets. "Fine. But I will be asking. I'm not just saying this. I want to touch you. I want to make you act like a stupid virgin."
Kurt could practically feel Blaine's smile. "I know, Kurt."
"I love you, Blaine."
"I love you too."
"Goodnight."
-0-
Rachel Berry was the determined type. She got what she wanted and that was that. And since Mr. Schue was off with that Holly woman, practicing some god awful rendition of what Rachel assumed was supposed to be "Kiss", she had the perfect opportunity after school to march right into that French classroom and get what she wanted through the TA.
When she walked in, she noted that the desk she immediately saw was vacant and she assumed it was the teacher's. When she turned, she noticed the young man with curly, black hair and so-much-more-than-hazel eyes. Yes. This was him. And he was very, very handsome.
"Hello," he said, his voice low and even.
"Hello. I'm Rachel Berry."
He arched an eyebrow. "Blaine Anderson."
"I'm aware."
"Oh, really?"
"I did some research after I saw you speaking with Kurt in the hall. You're a singer. A good one. And a songwriter, from what I can tell of those recordings on your MySpace page. You're good at that too. So, I have a proposition for you, Mr. Anderson."
"Rachel, I'm like…what, four or five years older than you? Call me Blaine. I'd feel less old."
"I'm trying to write a song for glee club. Plus, our teacher has brought in this woman to teach us about sex and she sang this Joan Jett song and it was fun but kind of uncomfortable and I don't know I guess I could prove that she's not as talented or as useful as you—anyway!" She grinned brightly, clasping her hands in front of her. "I was wondering if you could come into glee club and play something for us and maybe that would convince the rest of those talentless hacks to see that my way really is the best way because we need to write original songs or end up losing. Plus, you could help us write. So, please?"
Blaine blinked for a moment. Wow, this girl talked fast. But it was an interesting—if not slightly creepy and invasive—proposition. And he could get to meet some of Kurt's friends. "Sure. Why not?"
"Fantastic! So you should prepare something mainstream; they'll all be bored with you in an instant"—Blaine frowned slightly, but Rachel was too excited to notice—"and then when you sing one of your originals they'll see the difference and how my idea is going to win us Regionals. Tomorrow, three o'clock, choir room."
"Okay, uh…" But Rachel was already gone. Blaine shook his head, looking back down at his papers. "Wow. Kurt was right. She's nuts."
-0-
New Text Message from Kurt Hummel:
Can I come over?
Blaine sighed, glancing at his watch. It was 10:48. It would take Kurt twenty six minutes to get to his place and then they'd barely have enough time to be with each other before he'd have to leave to make his midnight curfew.
Not tonight. Go to sleep.
New Text Message from Kurt Hummel:
Let me rephrase: I'm outside your apartment building.
Oh. Well. Blaine wasn't exactly sure how to…
New Text Message from Kurt Hummel:
I'm kind of cold too. I'm not wearing anything but a trench coat.
Shit.
And you say you're not sexy. I'll buzz you up.
-0-
Approximately forty minutes later, Blaine was shoving Kurt into his car with some pretty heated kisses, trying to keep himself from loving how the boy looked in his clothes.
"You need to get home."
"Fine." He pulled Blaine in yet again and Blaine could still taste himself on Kurt's tongue. Guh, that was hot. "But I won't be seeing you tomorrow. I have to take a test during first period tomorrow, I have glee club after school, and then I have to go over to my dad's garage right after."
Blaine blushed slightly. "Oh, right, I forgot to tell you."
"Hm?"
"Your friend Rachel invited me to sing during your rehearsal tomorrow; she wants to convince you guys to do original songs and…I don't know."
"…so my secret boyfriend is going to be in the same room as me for an hour and a half—singing—and I'm not allowed to touch him or kiss him or really even look at him?"
"Yup."
"Rachel Berry puts me through so much hell."
Chuckling, Blaine nuzzled his neck. "I'll figure out a way to make it up to you."
