Wild Horses

by happyinchintz72

A local PFLAG scheme uses the lost art of letter writing to bring people together. - AU but using as much canon as possible - 12 Chapters in Total plus a two part epilogue

21. Prom Night

Title: Wild Horses - Epilogue Part 1C
Word Count: ~14,000 (yes...)
Warnings: AU
Rating: PG-13 for the first half - NC-17 for the rest.
Summary: A local PFLAG scheme uses the lost art of letter writing to bring people together.

Author's Notes
I'll save my rambling till after the chapter as it's infinitely long and you can blame my moving house and second bout of strep throat in a year... thank you to EVERYONE who has stuck with this story. It means the world to write it and I wish I could cuddle you all.
Big thank you to the lovely ccmskatechick, as always, for her fabulous help and to canuckpagalifor the most WONDERFUL help on this chapter I girl could wish for. Seriously she is responsible for this making sense, for it not lasting another 2,000 words or something and just GOODNESS she was utterly fabulous :)

Only one part to go and it'll be posted in the next few days...

---

It was one of those nights that people dreamed of.

Finally, Kurt thought as he busied himself in the kitchen, he could enjoy one of those teenage rites of passage like everyone else. He had a rather handsome date, a kick ass outfit that Marc Jacobs himself would have given a gold star and he had friends who were along for the ride.

Everything was under control. Mercedes and Rachel were on their way and there was the mother of all party spreads currently waiting on a covered table in his room, accompanied by a bottle of sparkling cider bought by Carole in her girlish excitement about the entire event.

It was going to be an amazing night.

~o~o~oOo~o~o~

Blaine could feel his heart beating through the thickness of his lapels, fingers clutching at the wheel. It was going to be fine.

He just hadto see Kurt and it would be ok. Just looking into his eyes, seeing the solidarity there, the fierce reassurance – everything would be fine.

As the cars in front all slowed and stopped, Blaine let his mind travel to the place he hadn't dared to since his parents had informed him of that last minute business trip to Chicago in order to firm up some potential partnership. The wives were to be dragged along in order to attend a fancy dinner wearing too much cologne and perfume and nowhere near enough dignity.

Since their trust in him or blind ignorance to the fact he had a boyfriend now was so explicit, the house was his. There were plans in place because it was Prom and the memories were still there, fresh and burning on recollection. He'd seen them before they'd left and, of course, they'd wished him a great time. A thick velvet box containing special sparkly cufflinks had been pressed into his palm, warm and insistent but it had, all at once, felt like a consolation prize – 'sorry we won't be here for you, Blaine - but here! - wear these and it'll feel like we're with you'. Out of spite, he'd wear them. They meant well sometimes but at other times their 'well meaning' gestures felt forced- cheap and cold. His suit had been commented on, his mom declaring it, once again, to be that of a very fine young man but it wasn't quite the misty eyed digital camera obsessed parental reaction he'd foolishly hoped for. They'd insisted that his cell stay on and his Grandmother call in a few times during the night to make sure he was safe, just in case.

All he wanted was normal. Settling for lame music and tissue paper and awkward dancing was about as wonderful as he could imagine, just as long as A&E and gut wrenching misery didn't play a part in the evening at all.

The traffic didn't seem to be moving so he pulled out his cell and began typing.

My parents are out of town. B xxxxxxx

That sucks. I thought they'd want to be around xxx

Blaine laughed to himself. Kurt would think practically instead of considering the implications of an empty house on prom night. His parents were clearly in deep denial because even they hadn't considered that he'd sneak Kurt back for a sordid night of something their nightmares were made of.

He wouldn't – of course. It wasn't them. It could be, though – that was the point.

It's ok. I'm used to a quiet house but you could always stay with me if you wanted? B xxx

Propositioning one's boyfriend wasn't easy. The last thing Blaine wanted to do was sound like the world's worst sleazebag but they'd had the house to themselves before and it had been nothing short of life changing and magical so there was no harm in hoping for a repeat performance. Plus, sleeping alone was so much more disappointing now that he'd experienced Kurt cuddled close to him.

To have Kurt alone again with a blissful expanse of time stretching ahead of them was too perfect to build hopes upon. The excitement was too much. They were so comfortable now and it felt only a matter of time before one of them decided to bring up the idea of going a little further. Kurt kept insisting on looking so gorgeous and it really was not helping; Blaine knew he was already there. Kurt's brand new pair of dark wash jeans had a provided a week's worth of fantasy material so getting to touch and remove... although the prospect made his head spin it was something he was extremely ready for.

Oh. Tonight? K xx

Yes. Only if you'd like to xxx

It's prom night.

I should hope so. I'm in an expensive suit in my car on my way to be your Prom date. ;) xxx

I think my dad would handcuff me to my bed post.

Not if he thought you were staying with Mercedes or Rachel. Isn't Finn staying with Puck? B xxxx

Yes. Puck's house aka Rachel Berry's 'explosion in a paint factory' bedroom.

Exactly.

Oh. I guess I could. There's no way my dad's not going to be suspicious.

I don't want you to get in trouble or make you feel awkward, I just really want you to come! I thought I'd ask regardless xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I just told him. I'm in! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

REALLY?

Yes, Blaine. Happy capitals?

Kurt. I get to spend an evening with you THEN you're coming home with me. Of course I'm happy! PS: I can supply a change of clothing, if you need some.

I'll pack an overnight bag and we can slip it into your car.

This is quite the undercover operation ;) xxxxxx

Feel special, Blaine Anderson xxx

Oh I do. I do. xxxxxxxxxxx PS: Everyday actually.

I can't wait to see you. Mercedes has gone back home already and Rachel's in Finn's room so I have peace at last. My ears are ringing from all the high pitch squealing. They're worse than hyenas.

Don't lie. You contributed to it.

Shut up! I'm excited. It's PROM!

You're so cute! X

No. I'm suave, elegant and debonair. Get it right, Blaine.

You're also painfully cute and so amazing and I get to be your Prom date. Luckiest guy ever xxxxxx

Well, YOU said it ;)

Oh my god, stop making me fall for you more. You're so unfair.

Blaine.

Sorry but I can't hold it in tonight. I want permission to be unbearably cheesy tonight without you pulling a face and rolling your eyes.

I don't ever want you to. You've just never said anything like that before. You also have permission

Doesn't mean I haven't been thinking it 24/7.

Blaine Anderson, I insist that you come up to my bedroom immediately when you get here.

That's an offer I definitely cannot refuse.

Not an offer. More like a command.

Bossy ;) xxxx

I miss you. So much, Blaine. You look devastating in a well cut blazer. I feel like Cinderella. It's Prom Night. You just said something so romantic I might cry and I get to spend the whole night with you. As if I can wait for you to get here. Hurry up xxxx

Driving faster xxxxxxxxx

No! Drive safely and get here in one piece to kiss me and tell me how handsome I look xxxx

Deal.

Blaine pocketed his phone with warm cheeks and a contented sigh. Nothing else seemed to matter. He took a breath as he shifted gears and tried to be cool but the dopey smile on his face clearly wasn't going to budge all night.

~o~o~oOo~o~o~

Kurt could feel the excitement buzzing under his skin as he hopped to the window every couple of minutes, eyes searching for any sign of a headlight. The fact that Blaine was coming dressed in his finery and with the sole intention of being the world's most staggeringly handsome Prom date was enough to give up dreaming forever but they were sleeping at Blaine's again.

It meant an empty house.

Nobody around.

A whole night without interruptions.

The prospect made him squirm, chest clenching, mind racing and heart fluttering. Blaine could never be the guy to push but it was clear they'd both become closer and much more comfortable with one another, the most important development being Kurt himself. It had always been a horrifying concept: sex. Nothing felt more nightmarish than showing every tiny insecurity to another person in the blind and frantic hope that they'd find them all - and it had to be all of them, in a way – enticing or at the very least endearing.

He'd never had a warped view of himself. There were things he liked - eyes, hair, height and calves - and there was a long, long list of things he definitely did not - thighs, hips, chest, arms, waist, that slash mark scar on the side of neck from an uncharacteristic bout of boyish silliness aged eight and the funny birth mark that stretched up his side and peeked from under his arm. He couldn't help those feelings, the ones that injected a niggling fear into his veins every time he considered being naked or on show.

Blaine was undoubtedly sweet. He was so genuinely honest and strong but his insecurities weren't as prevalent as Kurt's, they were masked by his goofy smile or the outward shiny happy way he viewed the world. Underneath, he was a little more complex and onion-like, difficult to work out sometimes and every now and then his eyes would cloud over with a metaphorical grey cloud. He was straight-up and as open as possible - even more so now and when they were together - but Kurt could tell that Blaine Anderson was an expert at the 'bury and forget' routine. If it hurt, if it caused pain then he dismissed it and focused on the good.

In a way it was admirable but unhealthy.

Still, they shared. It was their thing. Blaine, of late, was so very soft and responsive and, for Kurt, that was a shock to the system. Guys had never been like that before; they'd always been boisterous and heavy handed, frighteningly simple and self centred, lacking in flair and they were so rowdy sometimes, believing that it was the accepted 'way to be'. Blaine touched so gently. He could be firm too but it was as if he was holding tight, clinging and throwing every emotion into his actions because having a heart as enormous and busy as Blaine's was clearly a little overwhelming.

They'd been kissing a little on Kurt's bed and the boundary between chaste and 'this is going to go further' had been crossed; Kurt had began to snap open his eyes in panic before taking a breath and focusing on the tenderness in Blaine's touch. There wasn't anything to be so scared of and it was a process.

They'd keep each other safe and their mutual considerate nature would inevitably come into play, Kurt's own feistiness and fused emotion and Blaine's need to please and confidence providing the perfect combination.

It had been a bit of a struggle to sleep when these thoughts were becoming a regular visitor at night. He'd never been one to indulge in that kind of thing that frequently, except for sweeping romantic ideals featuring gently uncurled clothes and strong eye contact, his 'partner' so warm and smothering in the best way. Nothing had ever been frantic or dirty. It had all changed and dirty was normality now, the pull of fingers, the drag of hands and smooth slide of skin together as limbs tangled, breaths mingled and each grip grew that much more desperate and hard.

Instead of imagining, Kurt knew that he wanted now. It was a train crash of a realisation and such a blow to his long standing opinions on sex and the world of it. It had all seemed so enormous and impersonal, not to mention messy and terrifying but the thought of being scared of Blaine or finding him anything but the world's biggest turn on was just criminal.

If it was going to happen with anyone then it would happen with Blaine. Kurt wanted it to happen with him but the fear was still there, prickling at his skin at the overwhelming and lightheaded impulsiveness he'd allowed himself to indulge in. He'd never been one to relax enough to allow himself to want so much but now he had, in moments when his heart had owned his brain. He'd come to slowly get used to all that sex and intimacy embodied.

The thought of touching the wrong way or saying the wrong thing was mortifying but Blaine wasn't perfect either and he'd no doubt flail too, apologising way too much and jumping head first with too much enthusiasm. Blaine's eyes would flash with shock and all of his headstrong confidence would dissolve away to leave him bare. That was the Blaine that Kurt knew he was so in love with. He was true and the best kind of honest even if they weren't perfect.

Blaine Anderson tried and Kurt was still getting used to having someone like that to call his own.

As headlights cast golden orbs against the house opposite, Kurt jumped, stomach lurching.

"Carole! Blaine's here. Send him up would you?"

Carole peeked around the door frame. "Of course, sweetie. Finn's still getting ready and Rachel's in there with him so you two come down once you're ready and we'll have photos together. Your Dad wants to use his new digital camera."

Kurt felt his stomach tighten blissfully. He was getting the Prom night he'd always dreamed of.

"Of course. Just so long as Dad remembers to put the flash on this time and to look at the screen because I won't be responsible for my actions if my prom photographs feature me headless!"

Carole laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'll be sure to give him a little lesson. Now, go. I'll send Blaine up."

She shooed him and with a quick and excited glance at Blaine's car pulling into the driveway beside Rachel's, he skipped upstairs to wait.

It was ridiculous, really. Kurt kept his ear to the door, hearing Blaine's ever polite greeting and the click of the door as Carole no doubt closed it behind him.

"Kurt!" she called, right on cue and without any hint of the whole thing being rehearsed. "Blaine's here."

"Go on up. His room is girl free now so you should be able to breathe. It has been a bit of a mad house today."

"I bet it has. Thank you, Carole."

Kurt could feel his heart beating hard, palms beginning to sweat. It wasn't every day that a handsome boy made his way to take you to Prom.

"Kurt?"

He jumped, Blaine voice loud on the other side of the door. Busying himself at his vanity, Kurt took a breath and smoothed down his jacket. It was all about reminding himself that is was Blaine and he didn't have to be nervous at all.

"Come in."

The door edged open, Blaine's smile lighting up as he peeked through the gap. "Are you decent or should I come back later?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. The second Blaine's looked at him, it was a moment that Kurt knew he'd experience over and over for the entirety of their relationship. It was that small but constant reminder that their relationship and connection was something special because all it took was a look.

"Get in here." It was strange to hear such urgency in his own voice but Blaine looked ever so dashing, his hair curling a little over his starched collar, jacket skimming his waist and eyes twinkling no doubt with the remnants of their text conversation.

"I believe I'm owed a kiss or did you forget that particular deal?"

Kurt shook his head, smiling. "Come over here then," he half sang, shoulders swaying.

"Wow," Blaine teased, smirking, "someone really is bossy tonight. Should I just get used to it?"

As Blaine stepped closer, Kurt felt the customary shiver travel down his spine and out to his fingertips. He reached out, hands finding Blaine's wrist and pulling him a little. "Always."

Closing his eyes, Kurt felt Blaine's lips near, stopping just short of his face. "Just so you know, you look insanely hot."

With a gasp, Kurt closed the distance between them and felt his shoulders curl into the kiss, so desperate to be closer in an instant. Blaine's hands were soft on his waist, gentle in their hold but dipping lower with each breath. Kurt could feel himself spin. His breathing grew jittery as Blaine's fingertips traced patterns against the thick wool of his jacket.

Blaine smelled like a distant memory of aftershave and soap teamed with the unmistakeable scent of new fabric. "Blaine," Kurt breathed out against their lips, hands rising quickly to rest between them, "we need to have photos. No way is my Dad going to buy the excuse that my hair is meant to be out of place or that it's fashionable to wear a crinkled shirt."

Blaine's laugh vibrated between them, his hands sliding free as he stepped back. His face was flushed and eyes only a little bashful. They were getting so much better at everything.

They were doing it together.

"So," Blaine breathed deliberately, straightening himself out, "this is the kilt?"

With an excitable jolt, Kurt fanned out the material and spun on the spot. "You like?"

"I like," Blaine echoed, "and I was an ass for thinking otherwise." He offered a trademark dopey grin and held his arm out for the taking just as the noise of Finn and Rachel in the hall filtered through the gap in the door. "And I suppose we should go down and make our entrance?"

This was it. Kurt blinked extra fast, heart swooping in his chest because he was finally able to bask in the normality of being a giddy teenager. "Oh, you need something. Don't move." Blaine watched as Kurt almost dove into his alcove, hand momentarily poised in realisation. He emerged a moment later holding a clear box which he presented dramatically, eyes tinged with coy merriment. "This is for you."

Taking the box, Blaine sat gently on the edge of the bed. Kurt followed, hips bumping gently together. Unpicking the tape from the edge and pulling back the cover, Blaine sighed, smiling wide. "You made these?"

Kurt glanced sideways to catch Blaine's eye. He nodded, turning to tug the box from Blaine's grip. "Here. I'm the one with the design flair." He winked before tucking the stem of the boutonnière into Blaine's button hole with a swift flick of his wrist. "I got pink, I hope you don't mind."

Laughing, Blaine shook his head. "You're not a lily white kind of guy when it comes to prom, are you?" They were so close that Blaine could see the tiny flecks of varying shades of blue in Kurt's eyes.

"No," Kurt agreed in a second, hurrying to pin his own flower in place. "Prom is no place to shirk on creativity, Blaine. I'm going all out or not at all. The girls get to wear the hoop skirts and taffeta so I get to wear what the heck I want."

Kurt never failed to impress. Blaine watched him preen, his fingers so deftly in tune with every single stroke, so used to making the same hair adjustments. He was a practiced perfectionist and yet still managed to look as if it was effortless to look so well presented and, well, gorgeous. His skin glowed in the light from his dresser and, beyond all expectation, he'd managed to create an outfit so Kurt with his own fair hands that Blaine couldn't help but tuck all of his worries to one side. Kurt could and he'd suffered just as badly.

It was one night.

"Ready?" Kurt turned, head tilted. His eyes fizzed with excitement.

"As I'll ever be," Blaine smiled back, "Let's go."

Bouncing on his heels, Kurt reached for Blaine's arm and they began their descent downstairs. By the time they reached the bottom, Rachel and Finn had begun their final preening session, Rachel straightening Finn's bow tie and smoothing his cummerbund.

"You look very handsome," she cooed happily, her face dotted with blush.

Kurt rolled his eyes with a fond smile. "Beautiful corsage, Rachel," he offered, eyes sparkling, "You have style after all, Finn. Who'd have thought?"

He squeezed Blaine's arm against his own and giggled quietly as Finn flashed a strained and desperate smile. "Yeah, thanks bro."

"Oh, Kurt! It's so wonderful, isn't it? It's the perfect colour from the perfect guy. And may I say you both look very dashing." As quick as a flash, her eyes moved in on Finn again with her trademark intensity but Finn didn't seem to flinch; instead, he mooned back with a dopey smile and pulled her to him.

"You made them happy," Blaine whispered close to Kurt's ear, sending shudders over his skin. Kurt hummed to himself, glancing up cheekily.

"They made themselves that way. I just provided the creative catalyst, that's all. It is beautiful though."

"So are you."

Kurt stopped breathing. Or at least it felt like it. He looked into Blaine's eyes – serious and deep.

"You meant it, didn't you?"

The picture of innocence, Blaine smiled. "Meant what? That you're beautiful?"

"No," Kurt laughed, tucking his head against Blaine's shoulder for a second. He looked up under his eyelashes. "That you're going to be extra cheesy tonight?"

"Oh yeah," Blaine sighed, nodding enthusiastically. Kurt was sure his legs were made entirely of jelly. "That, I meant."

"Ok, kids!" Burt called, entering the room from the kitchen with Carole in pursuit. She was glowing. It was as if she'd waited just as long as they had for the chance to share such a pursed her lips, head tilting to take in Finn in his suit with Rachel hooked delicately into his arm, her expression glittering with affection. Kurt couldn't help but smile, shivering a little at the blooming happiness in his stomach. It wasn't until Carole's eyes fell on Blaine that he swallowed down tears. She grinned wide, gaze lingering on their linked arms and looked into straight at Kurt, grinning so hard that her eyes crinkled.

"Well, don't you all look handsome and pretty," she glanced to Rachel appreciatively, who squirmed under the attention but clearly relished it with a poof of her dress.

"Thank you, Carole."

Burt turned to them, finally having programmed the camera to the right setting. He nodded to Blaine but then looked straight at Kurt and smiled with such sincerity that Kurt felt so close to tears. It was going to be ludicrous if he wept openly in front of everyone. Having waited for an evening so special, it all felt as if it were straight from one of the movies Finn had been stealing so surreptitiously.

"Looking good, kid," Burt offered before gesturing for them all to gather together. "Finn, you're gonna have to duck down, this camera's not made for your height."

Rachel swirled her eyes, giggling. "Bend, Finn." She instructed him, tugging him down. Kurt caught Blaine smiling at them, clearly amused at their antics but it was obvious that Finn would have walked hot coals or stood naked in front of the camera for Rachel Berry.

Kurt let himself rest against Blaine's side, their similarity in height providing the perfect opportunity for linking arms. Just before the camera clicked, Kurt felt his heart swell as Blaine's arms looped tighter, his fingers playing idly against the skin at his wrist. He most likely didn't even realise he was doing it but as Kurt glanced to the side between snaps, there was a serene smile on his face that only meant one thing – he was happy.

Trying to regulate his breathing, Kurt swallowed hard and turned to Blaine as Carole assisted with the camera flash. Rachel was fussing with Finn's boutonnière once again, clucking like a hen as she rambled on an on, Finn's face full of overzealous rapture as if she was retelling an epic.

"I want to read our letters tonight. Together," Kurt said simply, allowing himself to look directly into Blaine's eyes as he tilted his head close. Blaine grinned softly.

"Really?"

"I put mine in my bag to hide in your car," Kurt whispered against the shell of Blaine's ear.

"Ok."

It was difficult to put the feelings into words but Blaine took a deep breath, smiling easily as the second round of photographs commenced. Kurt was something else. He kept his sentimentality so under wraps sometimes that when it rushed to the surface, it was suffocating and sweet. He truly cared, with all of his heart. He didn't just like; he loved. It was the one thing that Blaine knew he'd never ever take for granted. Nobody had so openly and freely shrouded him in so much compassion before and he knew, deep down, that it would take a lifetime of searching to find someone who would so seriously care as Kurt did.

It made the fear of losing it much more acute but the wonder of having it that much more magical.

A horn beeped outside and lights flashed through the blinds. Carole clasped her hands together, linking Burt in an instant. "Well, I'm going to teach Ansel Adams here how to work the computer and get some of these printed up. Blaine, I'll print a couple for your parents, too."

Rachel wooped, swinging her bejewelled bag over her arm. "The car's here!" Grabbing Finn's hand, she made for the door. "Thank you so much, Burt. Thank you, Carole!"

They were out of the door quick as a flash leaving Carole and her motherly forlorn sigh behind. She made her way to the door and watched them pile into the limo.

"Have a great time."

Kurt slid his arm free from Blaine's, turning to smile quickly before enveloping his father in a well earned hug. Kurt appreciated every effort his dad was making on a day to day basis but especially how quickly Blaine had been welcomed.

"Thanks, Dad," he said leaning back.

"Be careful," Burt frowned, coughing himself into his fatherly role before glancing at Blaine, "and watch out for each other, ok?"

"We will," Blaine said earnestly. "And thank you for having me over."

"No worries, kid. Now go on, or else Finn and Rachel'll drive off without you. That girl even scares me and that's sayin' something."

"Burt," Carole laughed, slapping his arm. "You boys look very smart. Go have fun! Your dad and I can't wait to hear all the stories when you get back from Mercedes' tomorrow."

Kurt didn't mistake it. She winked, pressing her free hand to Burt's arm reassuringly. Blaine's expression was mesmerised as Kurt tugged him towards the door, the fluttering in his stomach so intense that no amount of deep breaths could quell it. Grabbing Blaine's hand, Kurt turned to wave and closed the door behind them.

"She knows," Blaine hissed, arms wrapping around Kurt's waist and pressing lips to the spot where collar met skin. He was laughing, breath hot against Kurt's neck.

"Oh my god, I don't know whether to kiss her feet or be appalled at her blatant lack of parental concern."

"When we get back later to pick up the car, remind me to hug her or at least buy her some chocolates or something," Blaine laughed as they reached the door of the car. Rachel and Finn were singing along with the loud music as the door opened but Blaine stood to one side, chivalrous as ever. He gestured for Kurt to slide in.

"After you."

Frowning playfully, Kurt tugged at Blaine's bow tie. "So long as I can be the one to help you out of the car when we get there."

Blaine sighed with a breathless chuckle, skin flooding warm under Kurt's attention. He closed his eyes at the tickling of Kurt's fingers against his chest. "I was hoping you'd say that."

As he opened his eyes, Kurt was staring seriously. He rubbed his lips together thoughtfully and sighed, shoulders relaxing noticeably. "Thank you," was all he said, simple and to the point.

It was all encompassing; the gratitude, the awe, the appreciation and happiness all rolled into one. Blaine felt it every second they were together but Kurt's expression was full of it. Blaine leaned in, kissing his cheek softly and hoped to god it went some way to explaining how much he felt it too.

"No. Thank you."

Of course Rachel Berry had hired the world's most expensive limo with speakers to boot. As Cyndi Lauper's 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' came to an end, Kurt clambered into the car and laughed as Blaine sang his way in after him to the opening of Bad Romance with crazy faces to boot.

It was Prom and Kurt didn't care how ridiculous everything was – he'd embrace every single moment of it.

~o~o~oOo~o~o~

As the limo pulled up, Kurt watched as Finn was pulled frantically along the path to the entrance doors as Rachel chattered excitedly. "There are gold stars everywhere. Someone must have known, Finn. They must have known".

"She's a handful," Blaine sighed, as Kurt slid out of the car, smirking as he offered his hand.

Bowing his head, Blaine wrapped his fingers tight. Kurt watched the moment register on Blaine's face, his cheeks blushing and eyes crinkling from his trademark grin. "She's a lot of things but I shall not talk about Rachel Berry this evening. It's a rule."

"Oh?" Blaine stood, closing the door behind him and sliding his arm into Kurt's. It was as if he didn't want to be too far away. Kurt could sense it in the way Blaine seemed to curl in on himself as they made their way up the sidewalk. It made sense really; he hadn't had public school unleashed on him for years, especially not in a circumstance so blatant. They were so clearly each other's date and Kurt couldn't help but hold a little tighter to the shiny fabric of Blaine's jet black suit as if to anchor both of them.

"These are nice," Kurt said simply, turning Blaine's wrist over to allow his fingers to play with the cufflinks there.

"Dad's," was all Blaine said. His eyes seemed clouded but Kurt smiled as they reached the doors and Blaine, once again, held the door for him. He was close to breaking into laughter but Kurt spoke first, stopping him.

"Jeez. This stuff is so much easier when you're a girl and boy. Are we going to have to take turns forever?"

"It's in my nature and I like the way you smile at me when I do it so, shoot me!" Blaine's eyes lit up as he spoke. He wrinkled his nose playfully as Kurt laughed, his face betraying any attempt to seem exasperated. He couldn't – not when Blaine was so desperately sweet.

"Baby doll, you look amazing."

Mercedes rounded the corner, the pink glare from her dress preceding her as she twirled for Kurt's approval.

"I did good," he grinned wickedly, nudging Blaine. "Doesn't she look breath taking?"

Mercedes' eyes zeroed in. "Oh my god, Kurt. Way to introduce us properly!"

"Oh!" Kurt gasped, clinging to Blaine's arm and pulling him a little. "Mercedes, this is Blaine. Blaine, this is Mercedes. I completely forgot that you hadn't met, maybe because I talk about you both so much or something."

It could hardly be dismissed as a throwaway comment, especially as Blaine seemed to melt. His lips quirked ever so slightly and his eyes failed to find Mercedes at all.

"Well," she teased, "it's great to meet you, Blaine. Be good to my boy here, he deserves a perfect night."

As if to snap Blaine out of his trance, she pouted, waiting for an answer. He flushed a little, watching as she rolled his eyes in amusement. "Sorry, Mercedes. It's great to meet you too. I really do feel like I know you. Kurt wrote about you so much so it's great to finally put a face to a name."

"Same," she offered, laying her manicured hand on Kurt's forearm. Blaine watched as Kurt beamed under the attention but didn't let go of Blaine's arm once. They weren't inside the hall yet and it was inevitable that they'd have to part and simply walk beside one another when they were but the fact that they stayed as close as possible for as long as they could seemed to speak volumes.

"Come on then," Kurt said, suddenly animated and bounding on his feet, "let's see how hideous the gym looks."

~o~o~oOo~o~o~

It was like existing in one of Rachel Berry's dreams whilst on a serious acid trip.

There were stars everywhere. Either Rachel had somehow pushed her way onto the Prom committee (much the same way she had a membership to both the Muslim and Black student's associations) or Jacob Ben Isreal was still trying to impress her to get in her pants and had paid them in her honour. Someone had horrible taste though – that much was obvious.

"My eyes are physically itching," Kurt groaned, glancing sideways at Blaine who was a little quiet.

"Mmm hmmm. We can go outside if you want?"

Blaine's eyes were harder, shrouded in an impenetrable mist that made him look so sad, so lost. "Blaine?"

Kurt watched him blink into the moment. He looked nervous in himself, as if he wasn't sure of who to be.

"Yeah?"

Kurt took a breath, unsure. "How about we get some punch? It's over there in the corner."

His shoulders seemed to relax a little, the music changing and a loud 'woo' erupting as Puck mounted the stage and began to dance alongside Sam. Kurt recognised the song as some inane internet craze but his focus was on Blaine and the reason for the sudden change in personality.

"That sounds good."

As they found the bowl, Kurt prised a couple of cups free and filled them with ease, the swirl of liquid providing an odd sense of comfort. He could take care of Blaine the same way that Blaine had seemed to all of the months that he'd felt so alone, so unconsidered.

"Here," Kurt offered, watching as Blaine took the cup between both hands and sipped gently. His lips were wet but he didn't lick them dry, he just stared, eyes gazing one-by-one at the couples dancing. "There really is diversity at McKinley High tonight."

Blaine tried a smile but it failed. "You think people realise how much hurt they inflict? Like, how much pain they actually cause?"

Kurt could barely move. Blaine didn't often talk with so much spite. His voice wavered, the exhaustion in it so evident – a world away from the Blaine who'd stepped out of the limo and gratefully taken his hand.

"No, I don't."

"Me either. I bet the guys who did what they did to Daniel and I all those years back are living it up right now without a care in world while I feel physically incapable of asking my boyfriend to dance at his school Prom. I mean, where is the justice in that?"

It was a rhetorical question but Kurt felt as if he had to answer, to find a way to say something to take away the pain but it was no use. He didn't have any of the answers.

"While they may be care free and without a worry now, Blaine, I guarantee that by the time you're a beloved school teacher or performer or whatever you're destined to excel at and I'm taking the world by storm, they'll be weeping into their TV dinners as their wife nags them into an early grave. They'll go to the bed at the sound of racoons clawing at their second rate station wagon and wake up to some dead end job down at the local rendering plant."

Blaine's laugh was wry and almost gravelly but it was genuine and Kurt couldn't help but feel pleased.

"You have such a way with words." Blaine glanced to the side, the shine of moisture at the corner of his eyes.

"Come on," Kurt urged, smoothing down his jacket, "I can't listen to Puck murder another classic party anthem."

As they entered the empty hallway, Kurt turned. "I want you to tell me if you feel uncomfortable."

Blaine nodded, limbs stiff and seemingly unresponsive. It hurt to see how closed off he seemed, how dark his eyes were as they missed so much of their usual light. Kurt edged forward and slid his fingers into Blaine's palm where they fit nicely. The sound of Rachel Berry's ingenious rendition of Jar of Hearts – such a pleasant song for a supposed night of joy – spilled out into the corridor and as Kurt stepped gingerly into Blaine's personal space, there was no hesitation as he curled into a dance position and began to sway gently.

The only guy he'd ever danced with was Finn and his oversized and uncoordinated llama limbs had stayed rigid throughout the evening. As sweet as it had been, it hadn't prepared him for the feelings that soared through his veins at Blaine's fingers pressing one by one into his hip and the soft, warm ghost of Blaine's breath against his neck.

"If someone come-"

"Then I'll use my razor sharp wit to confuse their less than average brain capacities."

Blaine laughed, burying his head and circling his arms further around Kurt's waist. "You know, I think you have a talent."

"What for? I'll add it to my list when I get home."

Chuckling lightly, Blaine shook his head. His hair tickled at Kurt's jaw causing him to smile and duck into Blaine's shoulder. "You know how to snap me out of my moments."

Kurt clung harder. "Look, I know you went through hell and I know how scary it must have been to pick yourself up but this is your chance to show them. This is your chance to fight back, just like you told me to. To prove that they can't break you. You're so much stronger and they can't hurt you anymore. They can't touch us or what we have and I won't let them."

Sighing his worries out with such a force that Kurt's heart ached, Blaine snuggled closer with a tiny noise of contentment. "Best day of my life," he murmured.

"What was?"

"The day I wrote to you."

~o~o~oOo~o~o~

"It's Abba, Blaine. Abba."

"And? Is that supposed to mean something?" Blaine whined, pulling back against Kurt's hand attempting to drag him off his chair and into the dancing crowd. The rest of the New Directions were already bouncing around. Brittany was taking trips in Artie's wheelchair, Santana looking on in mild hatred from the stage. Finn was twirling an iridescent Rachel as she giggled, throwing herself at him and tottering on her heels. Mike had his arms around Tina, mouthing the lyrics to her and bopping in perfect rhythm to the beat.

"Yes, Blaine. Abba may be cheesy and stereotypical but they're classic and not to mention gay icons so it's almost law that you must at least appreciate them."

"Must we though?"

Blaine had to laugh. Kurt's face. It was pure horror if ever he'd seen it and all because Blaine didn't appreciate the legacy of Dancing Queen.

"We must. Come on." With a hard tug, Blaine was launched off the seat and into the craziness. He couldn't help but tease Kurt. Abba were awesome. He had kept a hidden stash of old records, which had been rendered unplayable due to the lack of a working record player, under his bed and amongst them was a decent portion of Bjorn and Benny's classic hits. Kurt was just far too easy to wind up.

As they danced, Kurt wiggling and sashaying with more sass than a La Cage Aux Folle scast member, Blaine could help but glance around at the rest of the school. There were a few people who looked twice, their brains obviously registering either their confusion or the distaste but nobody made it vocal.

In a way - and Kurt had mentioned something similar as they'd talked and danced in the hallway – it was worse when hatred lingered unspoken and behind their backs. You couldn't fight against it or provide an argument (not that bigotry deserved the time of day) and it festered under the surface; people were allowed to retain their hatred and channel it secretly. It was unavoidable in the main stream, mostly because people could feel the way they wished to feel but the ignorance and mindless cruelty couldn't be challenged when people kept it in hushed tones.

Still, times were changing, society was changing and things were undoubtedly better than they had been. There was a reason to hope and that was something miraculous and wonderful in itself. Life could be positive as a gay teenager if only you had the right support system and the belief in yourself to hold your own and trust that you deserved to live, experience and excel in exactly the same way as everyone else.

The people left behind with black patches against their moral code could suck it. They could wallow in their own prejudices. They'd suffer in the future – if karma existed, then it would kick their ass at some point.

Kurt swung his arm to the side, winking as Blaine was forced to twirl under. He followed, laughing as Rachel approached them and began to join their dancing circle. Finn was body popping with Puck but Rachel didn't seem to mind as she shimmied up against Kurt and wooped as Mercedes sidled up to them, her pink dress crunching with each hip wiggle.

"Blaine, right?"

He turned to find Brittany hopping on the balls of her feet. "That's me. You're Brittany?"

"Yes. And you're going to dance with me. That's ok, right? You like to dance?"

With a far too enthusiastic nod, Blaine was whisked into the crowd, Kurt's wide and questioning eyes sparkling with amusement as Brittany began synchronised arm rolls, seventies points and a mixture of high school routines that all seemed completely choreographed. She was giggling as she ruffled her electric yellow dress, nudging Blaine to join; so he did. It was shaky at first, the moves completely new, but as the song changed and Bryan Adams' 'Summer of 69' blasted out, Brittany frowned.

"Follow my lead," he shouted over the guitar riffs. With an exaggerated click of his shoulders, he launched into an elaborate air guitar routine, complete with Elvis legs and Beatles head shakes. It seemed that Brittany S. Pierce was not one to shy away from a challenge as she bent to his level and copied his every move perfectly the first time.

It was incredible. Blaine laughed to himself as Kurt, Rachel, Mike and Mercedes joined them, all copying in their own special way. It was apparent that Rachel and Kurt were the least 'rock' of them but they pretended to be 'groupies' and fell over each other laughing.

"This is ridiculous. This shouldn't be as fun as it is" Kurt hissed in Blaine's ear as they reached the chorus. Blaine took in Kurt's pink cheeks and now-unruly hair and he couldn't help but grab his hand and sing loud.

"Oh the way you held my hand, I knew that it was now or never. Those were the best days of my life."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt adopted his 'oh you're ridiculous but I can't help but find you charming' face and mouthed the words too, smirking at the particularly fitting ones. It was all so cheesy but after all of the tough times the year had pushed their way, Blaine found himself grinning ear-to-ear and holding tighter.

The past could remain where it was. It was the promise of the here and now and the hope for the future that was so amazing and it was all for the taking.

~o~o~oOo~o~o~

After Quinn was voted Prom Queen and she had cried sweetly and as expected, it was time to leave. Kurt stayed close to Blaine as they filed out of the gym, dresses crinkled and bow ties loose.

"I can't believe my Junior Prom is over," Rachel sighed dramatically, lifting her dress over the door ledge with pointed feet, much like Dorothy down the Yellow Brick Road. "It feels like such a milestone. We're seniors soon then off into the big wide world."

"I feel oooooold," Tina sighed, her head falling easily to Mike's shoulder.

Artie wheeled fast in front of them all, rotating quickly and staring them down. "Yeah, but we got another year of bitchin' times so let's not cry just yet. Be happy, yo!"

Blaine glanced to Kurt who was quite serene, walking slowly with his hands skimming the coarse material of his kilt. His eyes were downcast but he smiled at Artie's words. "I have to agree," he said quietly.

Blaine grinned. Of course Kurt would remain positive. He'd suffered enough negativity for a lifetime. Without thinking, Blaine felt out for Kurt's wrist and tangled their fingers together. Kurt appeared startled for a moment, but he glanced up into Blaine's eyes but with a slow and steady breath, he smiled back and squeezed.

"Well, we're going to win Nationals in New York and show the world how amazing we are," Rachel sang, using Finn's arm to jump out her enthusiasm. "Then we'll win again in our senior year and prove it again."

As they reached the cars, everyone began the long process of hugging and high fiving their goodbyes.

"You ready?" Blaine asked, glancing at Kurt as he leaned against Rachel's car playing with the buttons on his jacket.

"If you drop me home quickly, I can grab my bag and then you're dropping me off at Mercedes', aren't you?" He smirked to himself and, as quick as lightening, Blaine felt nerves creep in. They had a night alone and together. The enormity of it hit him like a freight truck and with enough force to wind him.

"Of course."

Once inside the car, Kurt felt his brain speed into overdrive, cycling through the many feelings swirling inside. Blaine had the radio playing soft lullabies thanks to a late night station but it was only providing a soundtrack for the complete and utter panic he felt. The piano melodies weren't helping.

It didn't take long to reach Kurt's house and before Kurt knew it, they were back on the road and only mere miles away from Blaine's house. They hadn't even discussed going further at all but it was the stereotypical evening of Prom and they were so much closer now, so much easier around one another.

In a way, the issue had hidden itself between each sentence they'd spoken to each other all evening. Only now, it was deafening.

"You coming in?" Blaine asked, suddenly out of the car and holding open the door. Kurt swallowed, nervously nodding as he climbed out and grabbed his bag.

"Wow, it's cold out." It was pretty inconsequential but it was something to say to fill the gaps and silence. It was awkward just thinking about what everyone else was up to and what people said about Prom night. What was Blaine thinking? Was he seriously just inviting Kurt over to sleep and make out a little like last time? They'd progressed to full scale kissing, hands wandering a little but no further and that, Kurt thought, was overwhelming enough. Anything else would break his brain – that was a fact. Even though he didn't feel anywhere near as frightened at the thought of it being Blaine being the one he'd do it with, the whole act was still massively intimidating.

He was the token twelve year old milk maid. He was the snappy, witty one. Nobody described him as hot the way they did Puck, he wasn't wholesome and handsome like Finn, he certainly wasn't hip like Mike Chang and nerdy-cute was Sam's style, not his. He didn't fit into a box and as liberating as it was, it also made it so hard to work out if someone liked what was on offer.

Blaine did but this was sex and Kurt knew, as he stepped into the warmth of the hallway, that sex was a very different issue.

It took Blaine's playful frown to realise he was shivering. "Are you cold?" Blaine asked, rubbing his hands up Kurt's arms from wrist to shoulder, the friction sending Kurt's heart fluttering. It was going to be a very long night and Kurt took a breath, unsure whether that was potentially the best thing in the world or a curse.

"A bit, yes."

"Ok," Blaine smiled, swinging Kurt's bag over his shoulder, "do you want a hot drink?"

"Do I get marshmallows like last time?"

Blaine laughed to himself. As they made their way to the kitchen, Kurt noticed that Blaine's cheeks were flushed from the chill outside and it was enough to make him relax a little. Blaine was just as human, just as capable of being nervous so it was ok to feel on edge.

"Seeing as it's you." Blaine bit his lip, smiling coy and only a touch flirtatious.

As the water boiled and Blaine began pouring, Kurt began the mammoth task of unhooking his boots slowly, one by one.

It was torture. Blaine groaned internally, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the mugs and to not allow them to linger on Kurt's long legs, that damn kilt and the way the shape of it made Kurt's waist seem even tinier and... Kurt had absolutely no idea the effect he had. That much was so obvious. When it was safe to turn around, Blaine grabbed both mugs and turned to find Kurt sitting at the counter in his kilt, black leggings, socks and open white shirt.

He swallowed hard. "I hope it's not too hot to drink."

Waving a dismissive hand, Kurt took the hot chocolate and cuddled it to him. "Smells amazing."

"So, tonight was fun."

Kurt grinned over the curve of his mug. "It was. I was pleasantly impressed with the student body's ability to contain their hatred for just one night. Definitely a refreshing change." Kurt laughed with only a tinge of bitterness.

"Here's to…" Blaine's mind trailed blank. Kurt laughed against the rim of his mug, closing his eyes against the steam.

"Oblivious parents?"

Laughing, Blaine nodded. "Air guitar."

"My kilt."

At that, Blaine clinked his mug to Kurt's and raised his brows appreciatively. "Inherited cufflinks and proving a point."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt scoffed. "Abba."

"Oh god," Blaine groaned, chuckling as he leaned forward on his elbows and sighed happily. "Ms Pillsbury. Your guidance counsellor?"

Kurt sucked in a breath, the steam tickling his nose. Blaine didn't look away; instead he just stared with a loose and almost serene grin, so knowing and far too gorgeous. "I'll drink to that," Kurt said softly and offered his own clink.

He could barely breathe steady enough to lean back but he did, without looking away.

"How about we read those letters?" Blaine asked, draining the last of his hot chocolate.

Kurt shuddered, trying to mask it with a deep breath. Yes, was the answer. Yes to anything.

As they reached Blaine's room, Kurt tugged out his sleepwear, hugging it to his stomach. "May I?" He gestured towards the door as if to indicate using the bathroom.

Blinking from the floor as he dragged the wooden crate out, Blaine smiled gently. "Of course. Just make yourself at home."

As Kurt tiptoed down the hall, the silence felt enormous, as if every single word, movement and sound was charged with meaning. Even the lilting sound of Blaine's breathing was causing Kurt to lose his mind. It was so steady and there, so gentle but necessary and, oh god, it was just a tiny part of the whole entity that was Blaine Anderson.

Up close and alone, everything became so heightened, pulse racing and skin tingling if Blaine so much as stepped an inch closer. Kurt sighed, running a comb through his hair. It felt amazing, of course, but the fact that every detail from the way Blaine's shirt had fallen open and exposed his neck and collar bone to the odd realisation that Blaine looked weirdly adorable socks was just infuriating.

Surely it was weird. Socks shouldn't be so endearing but, on Blaine, they were. They were comfortable and made him look softer in a way that quelled a little of the nervous energy bubbling in Kurt's stomach.

It was a mantra now. 'You can do this. You can do this."

Having been so unkissed and untouched for so long, Kurt knew it was a product of the overwhelming knowledge that he could now; he could grab Blaine and kiss the exposed triangle of skin at his neck, he could tug his shirt off and see his muscles a lot clearer than through the damned material... he could so anything and that was the problem.

He had absolutely no idea how but there was one thing Kurt knew he was sure of and that was how much he wanted things.

Blaine was still sitting cross legged on the floor in his shirt and pants when Kurt returned, face washed and clear. Blaine couldn't help but stare as the thin white material of Kurt's t-shirt loosely fell against his stomach and left little to the imagination – so much for vests, ties, scarves and the multitude of figure hugging cardigans Kurt owned. White t-shirts, Blaine thought to himself, should be the only thing allowed in Kurt's wardrobe forever.

"You find them ok?" Kurt asked, sitting tall, back straight and legs crossed neatly on the edge of the bed.

"Kurt," Blaine deadpanned, swirling his eyes, "they're organised in date order. Of course I found them ok."

"Ok, smartie pants. Give me a second." Blaine watched Kurt root around in his own bag, drawing out his patterned book and pile of envelopes tied with a particularly striking slither of magenta ribbon. If it had been anyone else, the sight could have been a little absurd and almost verging on the terribly realm of the Mary Sue but Blaine grinned secretly to himself – Kurt was one of life's originals and the fact he owned ribbon in many colours was not at all surprising. Blaine pressed his lips together to suppress a smile – Kurt no doubt owned the world's largest and most well stocked craft cupboard. The ladies of The Shopping Channel would no doubt be supremely jealous.

"Ok, I'll show you mine if you show me yours." The words were out before Blaine could stop his lips from moving. Kurt blinked back at him, eyes wide and almost twitching.

"Wow, ok." Biting his cheek, Kurt smiled tightly but his eyes sparkled and Blaine breathed out in relief. Baby steps. They'd get past the silent awkwardness soon enough.

"Can I ask you something?"

Kurt nodded, shuffling to sit side-by-side. "The French. Explain?"

Kurt's smile was nothing short of beaming. "Oh, Blaine. You have no idea. I'm almost positive that Marie Antoinette is a figure in my family's lineage. Either that or I was French in a past life. I don't know," he blushed a little and Blaine felt his stomach flutter, "I seem to excel at it and it's a beautiful language so I always liked doing the homework. Plus, I listen to a lot of French music so that helped. We used to have this cute young male French exchange student teacher who took us for one-to-one speaking sessions so that may have helped a little or a lot. I want to go to Paris some day and I'm a planner. No way will I ever visit a foreign city without at least knowing the basics in order to converse a little. I will never be seen as some dumb uncultured American."

He was laughing to himself now and Blaine couldn't help it, leaning to press a soft kiss to Kurt's cheek.

"What was that for?"

"Just you," Blaine offered, staying close. "I ask you such a simple question and I have a feeling, that, with anyone else you'd have answered in only a few short words but you didn't."

"No, I didn't." Nibbling at his lip and untying the bow, Kurt glanced down with a sudden burst of bashfulness. "And yes, you are right. But don't get all big headed because you think you're special." He glanced up playfully.

"Oh no. I wouldn't dream of it. Anyway, I always loved the French. I told you I used to research so much of the Latin, right? I was never that amazing at it even though it is my favourite subject. Wes is incredible. He helped us out a lot in Italy but I always loved to write those little things to you."

"It was very sweet."

Blaine turned, shoulder leaning comfortably against Kurt's. "Ok. I hope we're in that place because look." He handed Kurt a slice of cream imprinted stationary.

"Oh my god. Do not make me read it. No. I refuse!" Kurt groaned, pressing his head into his hands and laughing, although it was laced with embarrassment.

"Kurt, come on. You can make me read my horrible drunken letter. I'll even do a dramatic reading for you."

"You're ridiculous," Kurt whined, speaking through his fingers. "I may hate you if you make me read that thing."

Blaine couldn't help but sigh happily. Kurt was fun. It had been a long time in coming to find someone so easy to be with. His bedroom had so many happy memories now and after years of forcing them and praying for them, he now had moments to replay in his mind when he felt down.

"Oh my god, I haven't read this in so long," Blaine gasped, "Listen-"

"No. I won't. This is cruelty."

"Come on. It's cute."

Kurt groaned once more, daring to peek through his fingers. "Not cute. It's mortifying. You didn't even say anything bad in your terribly written drunken letter but that Blaine is not a letter I wish to be reminded of."

"It's adorable and far too kind. Just listen," he laughed to himself, resting his head on Kurt's shoulder regardless of his stiff posture and lack of amenability to succumbing to the humiliation. "You could have greased a pan with his head."

"I swear to god, Blaine. This is, to quote my brother, not cool."

Blaine was giggling now. It was so strangely perfect to feel comfortable enough to do such a thing with Kurt and even though he was complaining and ramping up the dramatics, Blaine could see the smile threatening to creep on his lips through his fingers.

"I get that he has no doubt got a girlfriend with legs to sacrifice yourself for and he'd never look twice at me no matter how much in season McQueen I was wearing. Oh, I forgot you thought I was straight."

"I despise you right now," Kurt spat but Blaine continued, spluttering over his words as he read.

"I don't meet guys much, so he was the best thing about my day." Blaine stopped, his heart aching. Kurt unpeeled his hands from his face. His cheeks were a touch blotchy but his eyes were rounded and bright, fraying around the edges with emotion. "Kurt, I looked at you for not even a minute and spent most of the performance dancing like a wounded chicken. I know that because those were the exact words that Jeff used when we came off stage."

Kurt pressed his lips together in a smile. "Well, I don't lie, Blaine."

"I was really the best thing about your day?" Blaine asked, leaning forward, face nearing Kurt's and causing his heart to hammer frantically.

"Still are," Kurt said quietly, bravely refusing to look away. "Unfortunately." He laughed to himself but looked immediately back into Blaine's eyes as they swam out of focus and their lips met, warm and slowly easing into a kiss that caused Blaine to let the papers to slide away.

Kurt stumbled a little, kicking his feet out of their knot and kneeling just as Blaine curled closer, trapping him to the side of the bed. "When I said that I missed you. When I was in Italy. I really did. I felt empty, like I needed to her your thoughts and it drove me crazy."

He breathed the words against Kurt's lips, sliding his hands around his waist and settling against Kurt's side just as they both melted down against the feathery duvet trailing over the edge of the bed. It was awkward; the floor was hard and paper littered the carpet but Kurt felt so hot and so very, very close - stopping really wasn't an option.

"When I saw you at the Lima Bean, I nearly didn't come inside. I'd forgotten what you looked like and when I saw you again," Kurt sucked in a breath as Blaine kissed lightly at his neck, hands wandering to slip slightly up and under the thin cotton of his t-shirt, "you, um, it was like I'd dreamed you up and that dream was coming to life because you were actually there. I don't know. It makes sense in my head."

"When I got to hug you, I almost passed out. It was like 'wow he's real'. I didn't remember you correctly. When I saw you again, it was so stupid because it should have been me writing the embarrassingly frank letters about finding you gorgeous."

"Ouch," Kurt hissed. He stretched up causing Blaine to lean back. His face was startled.

"What? You ok?"

Wrinkling his nose, Kurt pulled the lid of the wooden box from beside him. "This is not comfortable."

"No. you're right" Blaine sighed and before he was even fully aware of his actions, he pulled Kurt's hand and dragged them both to the bed, sliding close to Kurt and kissing him gently twice before allowing his hand to snake to his hips.

Kurt was shivering, licks of pleasure teasing at his skin wherever Blaine happened to touch. Tingles shook his body as Blaine's fingers pressed into his skin, anchoring him and almost climbing against him to kiss harder.

"Blaine."

"Mhhhhmmmm?"

Kurt huffed out a breath against Blaine's lips, blinking against the jolt in electricity down his spine at Blaine's hand, warm and wide against his stomach. "Oh my god, Blaine." He couldn't focus anymore. The room seemed to spin, the planet tilting on its axis and Blaine seemed to be the only solid and unmoving element in the world. He was so steady and curled all around him like a blanket, touching and kissing in the most idyllic rhythm.

"We can stop," Blaine whispered, his lips trailing down to Kurt's collarbone where they played with the arc and curves of bone and taut skin. Blaine felt the world slip away, Kurt's hands clasped in the cool cotton of Blaine's shirt, tension pulsing then releasing at equal pace until suddenly hands were at the small of his back, shaking but pulling hard at the material there.

"Kurt?" He didn't look up but he felt Kurt's breath against his cheek and then at his ear.

"Not stopping." The words were ragged and shivering but Kurt's hands were insistent. The fact that Blaine hadn't lost his mind with lust was a miracle but as Kurt's fingers pattered his skin for the first time, he made a noise so embarrassingly uncontrolled that he sat bolt upright. "Um, wow."

Kurt looked unravelled. His hair was dishevelled; the seam of his pants was skewed completely. Above anything, his cheeks were a most delicious shade of pink that made Blaine so desperate to kiss at them.

"Was that awful?"

"No," Blaine breathed, half laughing. "No way. I just... Kurt."

It was the age old difficulty. Thinking about sex was enough to scramble Blaine's brain but talking about it was even more daunting, especially when the one person you wanted to do it with was currently sprawled beside you.

"What? Why 'Kurt'?"

Choking out a laugh, Blaine bit his lip, rolling his shoulders as if limbering up. "Because."

Kurt dragged himself to sit, his hands clasped in his knee. It was entirely uncharacteristic but Blaine could see the will power in his eyes and knew Kurt was as nervous, if not more so than he. "We need to talk about this."

"Yes." The world seemed to zero in, accentuating everything from the sound of breathing to the most miniscule movements. "I'm sorry I stopped. I thought-"

"That I wanted you to?"

"Well, yes. We've talked about it before and the night of the concert at your school was amazing, Kurt, but I just want to make sure we're both on the same page before we let hormones take over and I'm telling you, mine are pretty domineering when they want to be." He cringed outwardly, curling his lip and laughing self consciously.

Kurt slotted his tongue into his teeth and smiled, the tension breaking. "I – I never thought I'd be admitting this or even speaking of this with another human being but me too. I mean, I – I've thought about it more."

Someone was going to pinch him. It was the only explanation. Blaine was either dreaming or he was dead and in some sort of miraculous world where only the things you truly want come true so perfectly. "You have?"

Blaine watched as Kurt tightened the grip on his own hands, his knuckles flashing white. He was so out of his comfort zone – that much was obvious and Blaine knew he was too – but it was like everything else in his life – he faced it head on.

"Yes. I just – I didn't expect anything. I didn't think that just because its Prom night and we're alone in a big empty house... urgh." He sank forward, cringing into his hands and Blaine had to laugh. "It sounds like some god-awful movie doesn't it?"

Blaine smiled and leaned closer, untangling Kurt's fingers to replace them with his own. "Pretty much but at least we can say we conformed to at least one teenage stereotype, right?"

Kurt's eyes twinkled. "That's a satisfying thought. Not my usual style but I like it. Just this once though."

They stared longer than normal, Kurt chewing his lip again. Blaine made a mental note to remember exactly how Kurt looked in that moment: so beautifully sweet, bold and softer than he'd ever been.

"Um." Blaine breathed in deep. "I guess we should just, um-"

"Blaine, just kiss me," Kurt rushed out, eyes wide and a little manic.

"Awkward?"

Kurt nodded, frowning at the loss of the easiness that flowed before the dreaded tension seeped in. It was inevitable that anything would begin as a fumbling mess but they were too secure with one another now that it was frustrating when the weirdness reared its ugly head.

The cushions slid away from behind Kurt's head as Blaine leaned down with a kiss that began a little harder than expected. It didn't take long for Kurt's hands to resume their earlier position, suddenly hotter than before and sliding with more friction.

Kurt could hear himself. The private kinds of noises that he never imagined allowing another person to hear were escaping his mouth with his brain catching up seconds later and flushing hot at the sudden awareness. It was sometimes a curse to be so self aware but as Blaine's fingers tucked against the waistband of his pants, the smooth pads of them tickling as they dotted the line just above the elastic, everything became somewhat cloudy.

As if to question, Blaine shuffled to straddle him to edge up his t-shirt and suddenly everything became so starkly real that Kurt felt his heart clench and eyes prick with moisture. He didn't stop though and neither did Blaine. Instead, Kurt shuffled a little, hands clinging to Blaine's shoulders as warm kisses were pressed along his jaw.

He could feel the stutter of his breath, the way his chest seemed to be heaving and that was when his ears started ringing. Blaine leaned up, looking directly into his eyes and Kurt was certain he'd have cried had Blaine not made eye contact. "You ok?"

Nodding quickly, Kurt leaned up desperately, seeking Blaine's lips but Blaine pressed a hand to his chest. "Kurt. Kurt."

"What?"

He leaned back against the one remaining cushion, chest rising and falling quickly. Blaine frowned a little but offered a gentle smile. "I don't want to just rush through this and power through . You know?"

With a smile verging on the fake, Kurt nodded his agreement. Powering through wasn't the ideal and Kurt could see the sincerity in Blaine's expression but the alternative was terrifying. Dragging it out, prolonging the looks and focus was just too much; he'd be useless and fumbling and there was no way he could withstand Blaine's eyes lingering on him because he'd die. Actually die.

"It's just-"

"I know. I feel it too but you keep kissing me to distract me."

Kurt whimpered, frowning. "I know I do. I do. It's just, I've never... you know."

"Me either, Kurt." Blaine could see it, the shake behind Kurt's eyes. "But I trust you and right now, you could pretty much do anything and I think I'd let you and that's not to say that you should feel the same way but when you do that, it just makes me think that you're not ready and that you... not that you don't trust me but that you don't want to do this just yet and that's fine but don't just do this because we're here and you think we've started something we can't stop. Because we can. If you want to."

"I don't want to stop," Kurt said quickly, blushing deep but breathing through it and searching for Blaine's hand. He found his wrist and held tight. "I don't. I'm hardly an expert at this and you, you're touching me and looking at me and I can't stand the way it makes me feel because it's like you're looking into my soul or something. That's scary."

"I know," Blaine smiled, leaning in to kiss at Kurt's lips softly, "but it's also what's kind of amazing. Plus, look. Look at what you're doing now."

Kurt frowned, his hands trailing lightly down Blaine's arms with absolutely no thought. He gasped, stopping and pressing his lips together in a smile. "See. This is what I mean. We go from being so comfortableto me freaking out. Ok. Stay here. Stay right here in this moment like this," he urged and Blaine grinned wide at the steely determination in Kurt's eyes.

"Ok then. Can I take this off?" Blaine asked simply, sitting back on his heels with his hands still at the hem of Kurt's t-shirt. "This is me avoiding the awkwardness."

With a slow exhale, Kurt nodded once. Blaine didn't look away and Kurt could feel the pull of desperation, the need to jump and snap the focus but Blaine's eyes dragged slowly down to follow his own hands as they edged the material higher and higher until it reached his neck. Kurt loosened his grip on Blaine's knee to raise his arms through the holes and watched as Blaine let it flutter to the floor amongst the papers.

"Cold," Kurt said sharply, the tremble in his voice so evident. It was an attempt at a joke that fell on deaf ears as Blaine leaned down, eyes hooded and warm, to kiss him slowly. It was languid, deep and far too incredible that Kurt was sure he couldn't take anymore, Blaine's tongue slid along his lips and eased into his mouth.

Kurt stilled for a second, kissing back but only just. He sighed into Blaine's mouth, hands now so tight against Blaine biceps that he was sure it'd bruise but that was the thing – Blaine didn't flinch, he didn't protest or complain. He just dragged his hands, heavy and firm, down Kurt's chest and hips, kneading the skin and feeling every single inch.

In a second, Kurt felt out for the edge of the crisp white of Blaine's shirt and pulled hard. As a small chuckle fell from Blaine's lips, Kurt glanced up to see Blaine's head disappear through the film of cotton, only to emerge flushed and framed with short curls.

"We ok?" he asked gently, throwing his own shirt on top of Kurt's discarded t-shirt and leaning close again to kiss the very tip of Kurt's nose.

Emotion bloomed in Kurt's stomach, creeping at his throat as he swallowed thickly and smiled. "Yes."

It was as Blaine's eyes scanned down over his bare chest and arms that Kurt screwed his eyes shut and exhaled again slowly. Something tickled though and he opened them quickly, watching as Blaine teased his lip through his teeth and trailed his fingers down from collar bone to hip, stopping at the thin pale hairs that Kurt hated. Hated.

Blaine wasn't pale and smooth. He was darker – more of an olive color – and with a smattering of hair in all of the right places. It was one thing to be compared to a twelve year old milk maid but to truly feel like one against someone as muscular and toned and manly as Blaine was enough to cause him to huff out a frustrated breath.

"Don't." Kurt looked up at Blaine's warning, the force of the words behind his eyes.

"Don't what?" Kurt said, forcing the frown from his forehead.

"Do that," Blaine urged, laying his hands flat against Kurt's chest. The warmth spread out evenly, as if magically transferring from Blaine's fingertips. "I can almost hear you thinking about milk maids and pear hips and every single thing you wrote to me and I'm telling you to stop. Don't do that."

"Blaine-"

"No. Kurt," he all but growled, "I know what you told me and I know everyone sees themselves differently but let's not do that. I'm freaking out right now and that's normal but I can't stand the thought of you considering that I see anything but you and how amazing you are."

"Ok." It's with that resignation that Kurt shook his head, shaking it loose of the tension because the look in Blaine's eyes – the longing, the tenderness and bright honesty – was intoxicating. Kurt swallowed, knowing it would take a long, long time to truly feel at ease with being so exposed but as Blaine smoothed his palms over Kurt's cheeks and kissed him, drawing it out until Kurt felt breathless, everything seemed to fall into place.

Blaine lay down too, curving to Kurt's side and kissing him softly. Kurt tilted them over, dragging Blaine to press him down as he steadied himself with Blaine's weight.

There was something so striking about Kurt - there always had been - but as he tentatively slid his leg between Blaine's, it was all so clear. Blaine groaned into the kiss, hoping that everything he felt was being conveyed because his mind was slipping and epiphanies seemed to spring up at every second. Kurt was brave and wonderful but he was never ever one to give up, no matter how tough or intimidating a situation was.

With gentle kisses, Blaine could feel the roll of Kurt's shoulders and knew, right there, that together they were the perfect match. Blaine had always been a trier, a soldier with life because he'd had to battle on and, on many occasions, had been made to feel that he just hadn't quite hit the mark. He excelled, yes, but personally, he was lost.

But not with Kurt. The realisation that hit him square in the chest.

Kurt's breathing seemed to grow rapid as they touched and kissed and finally – finally – got as close as they possibly could. All Blaine could smell was a heady mix of Kurt's cucumber face wash and the lingering detergent scene on his sheets but it was the wet press of Kurt's lips and the way he tasted that was driving him crazy. He was so so smooth in every sense – a complete antithesis to himself – with long planes of pale skin and taut muscle all ending in his waist that Blaine had tried not to think too much about for weeks.

He was gorgeous and real and his.

Blaine clenched his jaw as the arousal almost choked him, clouding his mind till he groaned deep in his throat. Kurt arched his back, eyes closed and hands tight in the pale cotton of the sheets.

"I – I... Kurt." Blaine's mouth went dry as Kurt's hand skimmed the edge of his pants and clung to his hip as they rocked together, Blaine was so sure he was going to fall to pieces.

Kurt let out a soft and choked noise, his breathing coming quick and fast as he clambered up, clinging to Blaine's shoulders tightly.

"I do trust you," he whispered, shaking and with the hint of a smile that Blaine caught out of the corner of his eyes, blissful and real.

Blaine sighed audibly, pressing frantic and open mouthed kisses to every patch of skin available. He could feel it, the heat and pressure building low between his legs, the spread of it through his stomach and the way it made him tremble with intensity.

Kurt's skin was so soft, his limbs so strong but slim. The fact that they were here togetherfelt monumental as it filled him up and sent his head spiralling. As if to read his mind, Kurt pulled at his pants and managed to work them down in a second.

"Give me – just – "Blaine stuttered, tugging at them and throwing them with the rest of the items of clothing. As he turned back quickly, Kurt kissed him surely, curling his leg over to hold him in place.

Nothing had ever felt as good in his entire life. The need overpowered him, sending his brain spiralling so fast that he found himself smiling against Kurt's lips and pressing down a little harder between Kurt's legs.

"Blaine. Blaine. Oh my god," Kurt rushed out, scrambling hands finding their place at Blaine's hips again and gripping tight.

"This – I just –" Kurt moved against him with just the right amount of pressure, angling himself closer and making the sweetest and sexiest noises Blaine was sure he'd ever heard. He'd imagined so many ways that being intimate with someone could have gone; now they all seemed so impersonal, so staged and skilled and abstract that as Blaine opened his eyes to press a fervent kiss to Kurt's lips, draining both of them of the final sliver of space, it felt like he finally understood.

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's middle, swooning a little as Kurt crawled up to fit himself easily into Blaine's lap and curled into him, kissing slower and still trembling a little. "Good?"

"Mmmm hhmmm," Kurt hummed against Blaine's lips, drunk on the feelings cascading his skin and setting him on fire from the inside. He could feel himself tensing, his arms looping tight around Blaine's neck as he felt himself rub up against Blaine's erection. His eyes slammed shut at the intensity just as Blaine's arms circled his waist, cocooning him and keeping them together – so close but never close enough.

"Blaine."

"I know," was the answer, scratchy and raw.

Kurt could feel the material of his pants rubbing against him, sending his head reeling but as Blaine pressed closer and dragged down over and over, kissing at his neck and shoulders in the most precious bursts of energy, it was all Kurt could do to not unravel entirely. There was no way to think in sentences; everything burred and became one. They both merged together and Kurt felt himself choke with emotion feeling Blaine seek out the perfect position, twisting them a little until all Kurt could see was white.

"Oh – oh my –" he breathed out, tucking his head to Blaine's shoulder and rocking back into Blaine with only his shaking arms to keep him up. "I – Blaine, I –"

It was so messy. It felt like Blaine was gripping him so tight so that he didn't shatter into a thousand pieces. But Kurt felt his entire body tense, with bright spots of pleasure in his thighs then his stomach and an then ache so deep and mind blowing that pooled and dragged his entire body down again and again against Blaine until he gasped brokenly, fingers hard in Blaine's shoulders and eyes clamped shut.

It was like falling. Like, every cell in his body was soaring and singing with feeling. Blaine's grip tightened too and with a desperate and hard kiss to Kurt's temple, lips slipping down to his cheek messily, Kurt felt him shudder and choke out a noise before slumping heavily against him.

"Oh my god."

Kurt couldn't move. His limbs felt fatigued and heavy in the most surprising way but shock still coursed through his veins as reality hit. Blaine was wrapped around him, snuffling close to his ear, his skin so warm and inviting. None of it felt scary anymore.

It wasn't at all like he'd expected. They still had a long way to go and much more to explore but as far as most people were concerned, getting off with your boyfriend and being half naked was a pretty good first step. A ripple of laughter threatened in his stomach but he pressed his nose to Blaine's shoulder and smiled.

"Blaine? Are you ok?" Kurt asked, gently.

"You want a list of adjectives because if I find enough energy to think then may have a few hundred to give you."

Biting his lip to fight back a giggle, Kurt peeled his arms away and ducked, finding Blaine's eyes with ease. They were lazy but bright with the residual intensity of what had just happened. "Would they be good adjectives?"

Looking into each other's eyes was strange. There was a thin film of embarrassment, caused by the enormity of the night and how almost shamelessly desperate everything had been but Blaine wrinkled his nose, nodded his head in the cutest way and broke the ice in an instant.

"The best."

Blaine stretched out his legs and unfurled his arms from Kurt's body, his heart still hammering. Kurt looked perfect. Truly perfect. Everything was still somewhat of a blur but just looking at the blaze in Kurt's eyes and the way he seemed to be smiling now was nothing short of wonderful. He looked utterly debauched, of course, but, at the same time, loose and as open as Blaine was sure he'd ever seen him.

"I think I'll, um –" Kurt tried, gesturing towards the door.

Thinking ahead, Blaine slid off the bed, frowning at the loss of warmth. "Here. Take these." He pulled a pair of grey boxers out of his draw and followed them up with a pair of pale blue pyjama pants.

"Oh, thank god you gave them to me because I didn't know how to ask," Kurt laughed, blushing slightly. It seemed strange after what they'd just done.

"Hurry back."

Kurt flushed, grinning. He padded out of the room and Blaine watched until he disappeared. It didn't take long to get cleaned up and changed into fresh pants and a thin black t-shirt. He skipped downstairs to check the locks feeling particularly giddy before straightening out his sheets and turning off the lights till only the lamp on his nightstand remained.

Kurt tiptoed back in a few moments later, smelling of cucumber once more. Blaine smiled to himself in the semi-darkness. Approaching the bed, Kurt looked just as soft as he had before; his eyes flickered for a second in hesitation.

Clicking out the light, Blaine felt out for Kurt's hand, his skin blanketing with warmth at the sound of Kurt's 'oh' and the light chuckle he let out as Blaine pulled him close. "I'm a cuddler."

"How ever did I guess?"

Feeling Kurt curl to his side, Blaine pressed a kiss to his forehead then his shoulder and finally to the cotton t-shirt covering his chest. He settled his head down and threaded their legs together with a happy sigh. "Tonight wa-"

"No talking, Blaine. Talk in the morning. This is much nicer."

With a fond smile and upon feeling Kurt's fingers tease gently at the hem of his vest and settling against the small of his back where he knew he was warmest, Blaine allowed his eyes to close, contented.

---

My goodness. THAT Chapter took it out of me. This one is pretty special to me so I REALLY REALLY hoped you liked it.

Couple of things:
- NO WAY was I making Prom was angsty as in canon. Karofsky's gone to greener pastures (and yes, i'll deal with him briefly in the final section) and I liked what Burt said - top offender disappears then the minions don't know what to do. I hope you didn't feel the story seemed less impactful (to pinch RMurphy's favourite word!) that way
- the whole 'losing virginity' thing. I don't care what ANYONE says... sex doesn't just mean full blown 'what you'd expect in smut fic' sex. There's NO doubt about it that they'd go further but in time. I think THIS at this moment in the story was MORE than enough because... well, it speaks for itself :)
- YES, I will deal a little with the morning after but maybe not in the way you expect. If you want it, I'll write it later and use it as an outtake! ; )

The final instalment will be upin the next day and a half (commitments permitting!) and then that's it : (

I'm so VERY grateful for your lovely comments and love for this story. I really hope you like the ending and please do let me know what you think : )

*cuddles*