For lastgreat07 who prompted this way too long ago, and I am just now getting to write it. I hope you like it.
Prompt: We all know that Kurt graduated earlier than Blaine, right? Badboy!Blaine meets NY!Kurt, who's visiting McKinley for some reason, and (Blaine) flirts with him shamelessly. Kurt's just like, "Oh, for fuck's sake," kind of annoyed but secretly liking it.
Okay. Deep breaths, Kurt. Deep breaths. You can do this. Yes, you hated your time in this school. These five weeks are going to be different, though. These five weeks, you only have to answer to your brother, and you can definitely boss him around if you want. I think he's scared of you. It's gonna be okay. Relax. This isn't high school again. This time, you're the star performer. You can do this. Kurt pushed through the front doors of William McKinley High School and made a beeline for the auditorium doors, eager to get out of the hallways before any teacher of faculty saw him and demanded he get back to class.
Yes, he'd graduated. Yes, he had a fabulous job in New York City, so why was he back in Lima, Ohio? Well, Finn was the reason, and if things didn't go smoothly, this would be the last time he trusted his brother for anything.
"Hey! There you are!" Finn called out when he saw Kurt walking down the main aisle of the auditorium. "The star of the show: Riff!"
Kurt chuckled as he made his way onto the stage. "I'd hardly call Riff the star of the show, but thank you for giving me a leading role."
Finn grinned. "I couldn't give our star performer any other role."
Waving off the compliment, Kurt glanced around before asking, "Are there any accessible outlets up here? I only got Isabelle to agree to let me come home for five weeks if I would work remotely, and she's not going to be happy if I don't get the bi-weekly blog posts done and sent to her for final approval. The first one I have to write is on "leather as punishment, leather as reward," and I honestly don't know how I'm going to pull that off convincingly. It's an awful idea." He followed Finn over to stage left where he pulled the curtain back just a bit to reveal an outlet. "Oh, thank god. I'll just set up a little workstation over here for myself until you need me."
"Well, I'll need you a lot," Finn replied. "Star of the show and all that."
"Yeah. Right. Okay. Still, I'll work while I can," Kurt said, plopping his bag down beside the outlet. "Was there really no high school kid who could pull this off?" He took a few steps behind the curtain and grabbed a metal folding chair to sit on.
"No. We have had three different kids in the role, and none of them have stuck it out. It's always too much singing or dancing for them to manage." Finn shrugged. "So, I called in the best person I knew for the job. Thanks for coming on short notice, bro."
"You're welcome," Kurt replied. "What time do the kids arrive?"
FInn gave him a funny look. "You know when school gets out. 3:30, just like it always has. They come in here right after."
"Got it," Kurt answered, reaching into his bag for his laptop. "I've got 20 minutes to get started on this article then."
It was at least that long or longer before Kurt looked up again, startled to see a boy—man. He looked like a very adorable, very handsome man—standing in front of him. His dark hair, complete with one blue streak along the right side of his bangs, was slicked back with a thick layer of gel, he wore a jean vest with cut off sleeves over a white t-shirt, and he had skin-tight black jeans with holes in the knee and a chain hanging from his hip to his back pocket paired with a chunky black boot that was tucked under the cuff of his jeans.
The boy—man—winked. "Hey. Wanna smoke?"
Kurt wrinkled his nose. "No. Thank you."
"Okay." Then, he smiled. "I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson. I play Bernardo."
"Nice to meet you. I'm your director's brother. Kurt Hummel."
"I take it you don't remember me," Blaine said, plopping down on the floor beside Kurt's chair. "I sure as hell remember you, though. You're sexy."
"I'm sorry. I don't," Kurt answered. "Is Finn—I mean Mr. Hudson ready to start? I've got a lot of work to do, and I really need to concentrate until he needs me." Will I ever get used to calling Finn "Mr. Hudson?" Probably not. I mean, it was one thing for him to go to community college for drama and an entirely other thing when he got hired here after one semester because the drama teacher quit and they needed someone to take her place for half salary. Ugh. I know he's doing an amazing job here, and I'm proud of him. Do I have to call him Mr. Hudson, though?
Blaine shrugged. "I dunno." He craned his neck up to see Kurt's computer screen. "Whatcha workin' on?"
"A blog post."
"About leather?"
"I work for ," Kurt answered, doing his best to ignore Blaine and focus on the task at hand. The quicker he got this done and sent to Isabelle, the happier everyone would be.
Blaine whistled. "Whew! No wonder you're such a catch. Vogue is sexy."
Kurt looked at him from the corner of his eye. "You read Vogue?"
"Every issue."
There was a beat of silence as a million things ran through Kurt's head, things he could say. What's with your getup then? Are you some kind of badboy or something, riding motorcycles and smoking cigarettes? Maybe you can help me with this article. What do you think of leather as punishment and reward? Why do I feel so attracted to you? You've got to be what, 16? I'm 20. You're definitely illegal. Oh, for fuck's sake...
"I know. I know. It's a big fucking surprise that the McKinley High badboy reads Vogue. I don't try to fit in, though. That's my whole schtick. I specialize in being the outcast, the different kid. I embrace it, and I like it. For the record, because everybody thinks it, I'm 18, almost 19. I think it has something to do with my height. I don't let it bother me. I'm definitely tall enough to rock your world." He raised an eyebrow at Kurt, waiting for a response. When he got none, he changed tactics. "Maybe I can help you out with your article."
At that, Kurt gasped. What the fuck? Can he read minds? "Uh, maybe," he went with instead.
"What's the topic?"
"Leather as punishment, leather as reward."
"Oh…" The word came out like a purr on Blaine's lips, making Kurt's skin crawl with tiny goosebumps. Rising to his knees, Blaine reached out to trace one fingertip along Kurt's wrist and then up his pointer finger and back. "Some leather gloves would be sexy. You know… Like, leather can be rough if it's being smacked against your skin, but it can feel sensual, too, if it's used lightly. Ticking almost." He licked his lips as his eyes flitted to Kurt's face, staring at his mouth. "Maybe I can—"
"Leather gloves are a good idea," Kurt rushed, hurrying to type a little bit about it on the sheet, giving him something to do to break that infernal spell that Blaine seemed to have on him.
Blaine was undeterred. "What about a choker necklace?" he asked, reaching up to trace from Kurt's collarbone to his ear, resting on that place right behind his earlobe that Kurt loved. "It can be such a beautiful thing to wear around your neck until the moment someone uses it with just a bit of extra pressure to keep your breathing shallow and ragged." His own breath came out light as a feather against Kurt's cheek as he leaned in closer, whispering the final words.
"Uh, ahem, um, very good," Kurt sputtered. Oh, for fuck's sake… This is not good. What is he doing to me? "I-I think I've got enough now to—"
Apparently, Blaine wasn't finished. "And we can't forget about the classic leather belt." His hand was migrating toward Kurt's waist, looking to paint a line from hip to hip, and Kurt hurried to move his laptop into the way of Blaine's hand.
As much as I'd like that, that is totally not appropriate. He's a student, and I'm not. I'm an adult. That can't… He stifled a groan as his cock stirred. That can't happen here.
Blaine watched him move his laptop into his way, glancing at his face with understanding. Then, he whispered, "Belt as punishment, belt as reward," loving the way Kurt had to close his eyes, the way his breath became uneven as he let it out slowly through pursed lips.
When Kurt opened his eyes again, he found himself staring into Blaine's face, his very sexy face. "Oh! Um, well, uh, thanks for-for all your help," he managed to say, turning to look at his screen again and beginning to type. If I look busy, maybe he'll go away. That was a close call. A moment later, there was a soft, warm hand lying on top of his own. Oh, for fuck's sake…
"Go on a date with me?" Blaine asked. "We can go to Breadstix, get their Monday night lovebirds special: spaghetti for two."
Surprised, Kurt opened his mouth to respond, and the word "yes" almost tumbled out. He quickly caught himself before he could make that fatal mistake, though, and stuttered out, "Oh, uh, n-no. I-I'd better not. I need to-to stay with my dad an-and step-mom tonight."
Unphased, Blaine nodded. "Okay. Maybe tomorrow."
Kurt didn't have time to reply to that as he heard Finn call out, "Okay! Places everyone! Let's start at the beginning and see how far we get with our brand new star, Kurt Hummel as Riff!"
For the next few weeks, things went pretty much the same way. Kurt, at almost exactly 3:30, would find himself being flirted with by one Blaine Anderson, always dressed to take his breath away in the tightest, most form-revealing outfits he could find. Things always got too heated too quickly, and Kurt had to fight tooth and nail with himself to put an end to it before things got too out of hand. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, resisting the urge to pull this boy-man close to him and kiss him for all he was worth on those pouty lips of his. He couldn't, and he had a list of reasons why a mile long.
Blaine was very persistent, though, following the same routine every day: flirt hardcore until it was nearly time to start rehearsals, then ask Kurt on a date to Breadstix. Kurt always politely declined. Blaine was determined, each day more so than the last, it seemed. It was as though he had a goal in mind: to take Kurt Hummel out on a date before he went back to New York and .
Finally, Kurt was tired of thinking, Oh, for fuck's sake… over and over again each afternoon. So, with one week left before opening night, when Blaine said, "Go on a date with me?" he wasn't even able to get the rest of his question out.
"Yes."
For a moment, Blaine just blinked at him. Then, he asked, "Really?"
"Really. I"ll be ready at 7:30 tonight. Pick me up. And if you ride a motorcycle, don't. I won't get on the back of one of those death traps."
"Oh, don't worry. I drive a '72 Corvette."
That night, at 7:30 sharp, Blaine was at the Hudson-Hummel house. To Kurt's surprise, he didn't sit in the car and honk the horn like Kurt had expected. Instead, he got out and came to the front door, ringing the bell.
When Kurt answered the door, he was surprised to see Blaine had dressed up. He'd ditched his cut-off jean vest for a nice black vest, unbuttoned over a graphic tee. He still work skin-tight black pants, but there were no holes, and he'd changed his typical gold chain out for a nice-looking silver one. His boots were still the same, and Kurt could tell he'd showered since school because there was far less gel in his hair. It's actually kinda curly, he thought in wonder as he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door gently behind him. "You look nice."
"Thanks. You ready?"
Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I think so." He glanced down at himself—his navy blue button up with tiny birds printed on it, his tight khaki brown pants, and his shiny, black, lace up Oxfords—taking stock, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. "Ready," he said, looking up at Blaine with a smile.
Grabbing his hand, Blaine walked down the sidewalk with Kurt and opened the passenger door for him. Then, he shut it behind before going around to the other side and getting in. He glanced over at Kurt appreciatively. "I just have to say… You look divine tonight, Kurt. I think you may be the best dressed kid in all of Ohio."
A blush colored Kurt's cheeks, and he couldn't even make the gentle reprimand he was going to give him for calling him a kid out of his mouth.
They rode to Breadstix in silence, and when they were seated at their table, an order of spaghetti in the kitchen and their Diet Cokes on the table in front of them, Blaine began to talk. "I'm not going to beat around the bush, Kurt. I know you said you don't remember me from high school, and that's fine. I do, though. I remember thinking that you were the hottest man on the face of the planet, and I wanted you so badly. I was afraid to talk to you, though. You were way out of my league, ready for New York and bigger things, and I was still stuck in Ohio, a badboy who smoked behind the bleachers and danced to Kiss and Aerosmith on the hood of my car. Now that you're back, though, I don't want to lose the opportunity for us to get to know each other better. I think you're something special, Kurt, and I want a chance to love you like I know I can."
Kurt just blinked at him, surprised. Well, not what I was expecting at all. There's a lot more than meets the eye with him. "You always zig when I think you're about to zag," he said honestly. "As long as tonight goes well…" Oh, for fuck's sake... I can't believe I'm about to say this. "...I think I'd like to get to know you better, too."
The two of them talked and got to know one another as they waited for their food. The more they did, reminiscing about the last few years of high school, Kurt found that he did remember Blaine, always in the background in little snippets in his memory. It was funny how much he'd actually been there, how many memories they'd shared, and it made Kurt feel like they had maybe known one another longer than a month of 10 minute flirting sessions in the McKinley auditorium.
After dinner and their obligatory Lady and the Tramp moment, Blaine convinced Kurt to go to the park with him and take a walk. "We don't have to do anything. We can just walk."
So, they did, their hands clasped together in the moonlight. For a while, it was quiet, both of them contemplating what they'd like to say as their date drew to a close.
Finally, Blaine worked up the courage to say, "I know I'm going to have to take you home soon, and I've just got to know… What are we to each other?"
Kurt's breath hitched, caught off guard for a moment. "You tell me," he breathed.
"I want to be boyfriends, lovers maybe," Blaine answered confidently. "Can we do that?"
"I'm in New York. I'm working a job and going to school. Can you handle the distance? I'm not sure I—" He was cut off by Blaine surging up to meet his lips in a kiss that felt both like fire and the softest moonlight against his lips. Oh, for fuck's sake...
After a few moments, Blaine pulled back, his gaze lingering on Kurt's lips for a few moments before he looked up into his eyes. "With you by my side, I feel like I can do anything. You move me, Kurt."
A gentle smile came over Kurt's lips, and he took Blaine's hand again, leading him down the sidewalk once again. "So," he asked, "when is graduation day? I need to know how long I'm going to have a long-distance boyfriend."