Unsurprisingly, Kurt was late getting out of work. I didn't mind waiting the ten odd or so minutes. I kept myself busy by blasting the radio like a teenager and watching the drunken men walk out of the club, each one just as horny as they were when they arrived, maybe even more so. A chubby woman with a bride's veil stumbled out with a group of woman, all laughing and dancing and making complete fools of themselves. I couldn't help but to chuckle as one of them took a stumble off the curb, causing the rest to stop and heckle her.
I stared at the front black doors, patiently waiting for Kurt to step out of them. Only men went in and only a few came out, all of them looking sleazier than the last. It made my stomach clench; some of these guys had been watching Kurt - perving over him. The jealousy I felt was instant and too familiar for my liking. I hadn't really been thinking too hard about his "career." I had no reason to. I wasn't in any type of an established relationship with him for me to be able to express my opinions on what he did or chose to do.
There was a knock at my window and I jumped. Kurt was smiling at me and holding back a laugh. I tried to slow down my heart be as I quieted the volume and got out, trying not to let him see how embarassed I was.
"Where'd you come from?" I asked.
"Employee exit," he replied. "I wanted you to meet someone."
I finally looked up and noticed the guy with the mohawk from earlier.
"'Sup," he said with a wink.
I blinked. "Uh, hi."
"Blaine, this is Noah - or Puck," Kurt said, all smiles and glee.
"Which is it?" I asked, taking the guy's hand in mine.
With a tight grip and a casual shake he said, "Puck."
"All right, Puck," I acknowledged. We released hands and he looked me up and down, which was fine by me because I was doing the same.
His look was very Indie-Rock N' Roll; black skinny jeans (not too tight), a long sleeved, gray, cotton shirt and a necklace with the Star of David hanging from it. He looked normal to me, but I wondered how I looked to him.
"Puck and I have been friends since our sophomore year of high school. We started off as the bully and the victim, but look at us now..."
Puck grinned and nodded. "Best friends with benefits."
I felt my eyes widen. "What?"
"Puck, shut up," Kurt hissed. He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. "He's just joking. Puck's humor is very immature and inappropriate, but you'll get used to it."
"I'm not sure I want to," I mumbled. Kurt smiled.
"Puck and I were talking about pizza and now I must have a slice before I eat the sidewalk. Do you want to grab a bite?" he asked me, looking hopeful yet ready for rejection.
I nodded but then eyed Puck. "Is he invited?"
Kurt looked over his shoulder, as if he'd forgotten that he was there. "Oh, no. Puck has a life to get to. If you call sleeping with random girls a life."
Puck smirked. "It's the best life. I'd say you should try it sometime, but vaginas make you sick."
"Vaginas make me just as sick as seeing a flesh wound. I think it's perfectly normal to be grossed out by something you don't want," Kurt responded, shuttering a bit over the mental images that were most likely the for-front in his mind.
"Whatever, dude. You're just missing out on the wonderful things God blesses us with," Puck said back, getting ready to leave.
Kurt simply rolled his eyes and waved him goodbye, immediately turning his attention to me. "So, pizza?"
"Right."
-:-
We were back at my apartment, which was weird because I hadn't expected us to end up in a place where there were four walls and a lock and a bed and alcohol.
It shouldn't have been so weird, but it was. I wanted to be nice and gentleman-like and insisted in watching a movie or grabbing some beers. Kurt objected to both those things, throwing in an irrelevant reason to subside my persistence. I even suggested that we go out and take a walk, but he mumbled something about not being a dog and looked at every single thing in my apartment. He scrutinized the photos and the albums and the random receipts I hadn't thrown away. He smiled at the piggy-bank I had on a high shelf. I wasn't even sure why I had it, but it must've been for a good reason...or no reason at all.
I managed to get myself a beer as I bit my lip nervously, and he asked me if I had wine or something that didn't taste bad. Through a haze I got him a glass of red wine and before I knew it, all my beer was gone and the bottle of wine was empty on the carpet and Kurt and I were stumbling down the hallway, our lips attacking every inch of flesh that made it's way out of clothes. His breath was really warm against my shoulder as I pushed open my bedroom door and kicked a shoe off into the abyss of darkness. The second shoe came off and then my belt was being undone and Kurt was helping. I realized then that he had more clothes on than I did, and it made me angry. I forgot about myself and grabbed at his shirt, ignoring his hissing comments about being careful. I wanted him naked. He helped me, though, and took the rest of his clothes off, leaving him completely naked except for the black socks.
I laughed. How could I not?
He simply glared and crossed his arms. I tried to mute my girlish giggles as I pulled my jeans off.
"You're drunk, Blaine," he stated as he helped me. I watched him as he stumbled over my pants once they hit the floor. He caught himself, only to stumble again, but on nothing.
"I'm buzzed. You're drunk," I replied.
He scoffed and climbed onto my bed. I watched him, my eyes trying not to stay on his bare ass. At this point, he realized he was wearing socks. He stared at them, dumbfounded as to what they wore before he laughed nervously and took them off.
"Why didn't you tell me I still had my socks on?" he asked, humor coating his voice.
I shrugged. "You were kinda rocking them."
He rolled his eyes and reached for me, his hand grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me forward. I landed on the bed, my hands and knees pressing against the blue comforter as his mouth find mine. I liked this side of Kurt - the drunk side. Sure, he still had that "better than you" attitude, but he was at ease and completely comfortable with himself. The sober Kurt would never have gotten butt naked with just socks on. Hell, I don't think he'd ever be caught dead with just socks on, even fully dressed. He was happy, which was a rarity to see and I really wanted to enjoy every moment of him.
Kurt and I hadn't reached this point, though. The "sleeping together" point. Mostly lots of hand-jobs and foreplay; pathetic, sexual frustration inducing, blue-balls type of things. But now, we were about to embark on the "final" stage of sleeping with another. And truthfully, I was glad that it was here. Sure, Kurt was drunk, but he wasn't scared or depressed. He was willing and actually wanted this. I could tell by the way he reached for my cock in the middle of me transitioning to a better spot on the bed.
I smiled as he sucked my neck and rubbed me at the same, trying to figure out if I wanted to laugh or moan or cough. Too much was going on, but what I knew was that I enjoyed every single second of it. He grabbed my right hand with his left and put it on his budding hard on. I gasped at the contact, not expecting for him to be so forceful and leading. I was caught my surprise when he started giggling against my shoulder. His hand slipped from my dick and he fell back onto the bed, his legs slightly rising so his knees were starting to press against his chest as he laughed.
"What's so funny?" I asked, laughing with him.
He only laughed harder then, tears starting to slip from his closed eyes and the fit of giggles overtook him.
"What?" I asked again, moving so I was laying beside him. I rested my head in my left hand as I wiped away his tears with my other.
He took a deep breath. "You're so cute."
"Wait...what?"
He sat up, his eyes pink and wet. He wiped at them, and smiled at me. "You act like you're such a prude who's romantic and stuff. You're all skittish like a cat when I make you touch me. We both know that you're probably the worlds biggest horn-dog."
I shrugged. "I'm not skittish. I just wasn't prepared for you to force my hand into your dick. Sue me."
He rolled his eyes and abruptly kissed me, causing me to fall onto my back as he saddled me, his dick on my stomach as his hands found their way into my hair. I lifted my head up to kiss him back, but his tongue found it's way into my mouth and my hips went up and I groaned when he did. He pulled back from my lips, his eyes hazy and so blue as he looked into mine.
"Blaine, I need you," he said, his voice somewhat sad. I nodded and brought my lips back to his, my hands falling behind his back as I carefully rolled him over. His hands found their way into my hair again, and something told me he liked to tousle my curls. He stopped grabbing them long enough to assist me in taking off my boxers.
"Flip over," I whispered to him. He nodded and complied, and I jumped off the bed long enough to fetch a condom and some lube. He watched me as I ripped the foil and took out the rubber, his eyes on mine while I rolled it onto my dick.
"You're nervous," he stated. I smiled and went over to him.
"Wrong," I leaned down and kissed him, "I'm excited."
He smiled and I crawled behind him. He didn't even need me to tell him what to do, he was already on his knees, his body waiting for me. I squeezed the clear liquid onto my palm and rubbed it on myself before I put some on him. It took a minute or two, but eventually I was in him and moving. He moaned and his hands clenched the bedsheets. A few times he gasped and I stopped, scared that I had hurt him.
"Don't stop," he would say breathlessly. I'd nod and continue, my hips moving. I palmed his dick with my right hand and he moaned louder. Together we worked until we both reached our climax. I think he was stuck between fooling around and sleeping, and eventually we both did the latter and laid in my bed, our bodies tangled together as sleep found us.
The next morning, Kurt was vomiting in the bathroom down the hall. I wasn't sure if it was because of his dry-heaving, but I woke up to the noise. It was oddly loud, but both the bedroom and bathroom doors were open. I found my boxers and put them on before I made my way down the hall, yawning then cringing as I got closer to the bathroom.
"Kurt?" I asked, thankful that I hadn't caught the scent of him. Yet.
"I'm fine, just sick," he replied, moaning once more before vomiting.
I felt bad. "I probably shouldn't have encouraged you to drink last night." He was underage after all, not that I really cared about that.
"Are you kidding?" he asked, the sound of the toilet flushing. A few seconds later he appeared, wearing my navy robe and wiping at his mouth. "Last night was amazing."
"Really?" I asked, an eyebrow raising.
He smiled. "Really. It's not often I have nights like that."
"Nights like what?"
He blushed. "Romantic nights. Fun nights. Those nights where you just live." I was about to reply, saying how sweet he was, but he grabbed his stomach and disappeared into the bathroom and the awful noise returned.
"I'm going to make breakfast," I called out to him. Without a response I made my way to the kitchen and prepared a meal that I hoped I wouldn't burn.
I wasn't a professional cook or anything; takeout and fastfood were the greatest gift to me. But I could make pretty awesome scrambled eggs, plus I always made the toast super perfect. It was a simple breakfast, but it was all that I had and all that I could make. I wanted to leave a good impression on Kurt, but by the look of him retreating from the bathroom told me that he wasn't really in the mood to judge or score.
"Feeling better?" I asked as I filled a plate with scrambled eggs.
"Not really, but maybe food will help."
Or make it worse, I mentally added.
"Mmm, toast. My favorite." He grabbed a slice and took a bite, his nose scrunching up a little bit. I smiled and shook my head before I started to eat my own.
And then, because God hates me or something, there was a knock at the door. Both Kurt and I snapped our heads to the direction of the noise and I unwilling went to the door. Looking through the peephole, I sighed and unlocked the door, opening it quickly.
"What do you want, Dee?" I asked.
David narrowed his eyes. "Good morning to you, too."
I rolled my eyes and let him in. "I have a friend over," I whispered to him as I made my way back to the kitchen.
"Really?" he questioned. Kurt looked up at us and smiled politely.
"Kurt, this is David. David, Kurt." I immediately went back to eating my breakfast.
"Hey," David greeted. Kurt waved and used the same hand to grab his glass of orange juice.
"What are you doing here?" I asked David, trying to be as nice as possible.
"I was worried. Last night you sort of bugged out on us and hid in your room," he stated, snagging my second piece of toast.
"I'm fine. I just had to deal with things on my own." I could feel Kurt's eyes on me, but I kept them mine down at my plate.
With a mouth full of bread, David spoke, "I know. Well, Wes knows and I had to agree with him. And by the looks of this morning, I'd say you've figured your shit out?"
"He has," Kurt answered. I looked up, noticing Kurt's infamous bitch face on as he stared at David.
David eyed Kurt. His face was expressionless. "That's good, because I wouldn't want him to have any more pain and drama."
"Are you talking about me?" Kurt asked, his eyebrow raising.
David shrugged. "Well, you did get him fired."
"David! Shut up!" I hissed.
Kurt only smiled. "Actually, I did not get him fired. I'm just as much as a victim as he is."
"So he didn't tell your dad," he said to me.
I nodded. "We're both thinking that it was Sam."
"Your ex?"
"The very same," I sighed.
"But why would he do something like that?" David asked, sounding nearly as confused as I was feeling.
"No clue, Dee. But we're just going to push it aside. All right?"
He nodded. "Right." The three of us took bites of our toasts, the crunching noise being all that was heard. David's eyes flashed to Kurt and then to me and then back to Kurt.
"So...are you two, like...a thing?" he asked.
I shrugged and looked at Kurt. "Are we a thing?"
He pursed his lips. "I'd prefer boyfriend over thing, but yes, we are."
"I don't remember agreeing to that," I joked.
He smirked. "Too bad."
"Cute overload. I'm going to get out of here before I vomit rainbows," David said, pulling away from the counter.
"Don't say vomit," Kurt groaned. I smiled at him and got him some Tylenol, nodding a goodbye to David all the meanwhile.
-:-
Kurt and I had been together nearly a month. We didn't fight. There was no drama. We were happy and in love, which might have been very childish, but I enjoyed it.
I thought that for once I was in the perfect situation in my life.
I was wrong.
Things started to go downhill when Kurt was late getting out of work. It was usual for him to be late, but when I saw him come out twenty minutes later with a handsome guy, casually laughing, I flipped. Of course, I didn't storm out of the car and punch the guys' lights out, but it was obvious that I wasn't happy. Kurt hugged him and they separated. Still smiling, he got into my car.
"Who was that?" I asked.
"A co-worker. He's new. Really nice guy," Kurt replied, a sigh in his voice. When I didn't start the car he looked at me. "What?"
"I don't want you working there anymore," I whispered.
"It's my job, Blaine."
"I don't like it."
"I don't care."
"Please."
He let out a deep breath. "Are you going to take me home or are we going to sit here forever?"
Without saying anything, I started the car and took him to his place. I was supposed to go in with him - we had planned a movie night - but he told me not to bother.
That was the beginning of our breakup.