Warning: a rather long and descriptive speech is given by both Sebastian and Blaine in this one – blood and gore is mentioned (it is very mild, but I still thought I would mention it.)

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8 weeks

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Chapter Five

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Blaine's nose nuzzled into Kurt's light-brown hair; his nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath, taking in the scent of his still sleeping boyfriend. He exhaled and closed his eyes tight together. With creeping fingers, he let them dance across Kurt's shapes like a feather, until he reached his protruding stomach, where he settled with a soothing rubbing of his thumb. His eyes were still closed, knowing that he still felt too tired after last night; it had been a long evening at the office, with hundreds of papers filled with new details and evidence for and against his client. As much as he'd tried concentrating on the papers, he just couldn't – Kurt and the babies had occupied his thoughts all evening, prolonging his work by at least two hours.

A soft moan brought him out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes. He blinked, the sun beams which shined through the semi-closed blinds, blinded his tired eyes briefly. Kurt smacked his lips together gently, creating a smacking sound, which brought a smile upon Blaine's face. He winced, as he could feel just how dry his lips had become during the night. The still sleeping male inhaled loudly through his nose and turned around, now facing Blaine.

"Good morning," Blaine whispered, leaning in slightly and kissed Kurt's nose. He reached down and gently grabbed Kurt's swelling but-cheeks. "How'd you sleep?"

Kurt sighed gently, and reached up to rub sleep from his eyes. "I slept okay," he stated, but was cut off from a yawn. His eyes closed tightly, as his mouth opened and he let out the nothingness that was a yawn. He took the opportunity to stretch as well, which resulted in Blaine chuckling once more, though Kurt didn't mind. Stretching was what Kurt liked to call 'a mini orgasm', because surely it was almost as wonderful as the real thing. "I was lonely, though."

"I know babe," Blaine whispered, leaning in to place a love-filled kiss on Kurt's forehead. "It was a lot of new information," he kissed Kurt's forehead again, and then his temple. "But I promise that tomorrow this will all be over and then I won't take on another big one."

"Promise?" Kurt looked up at his boyfriend through huge, innocent eyes, which melted Blaine's heart and made him love Kurt even more.

"I promise."

Kurt nodded with a smile, his smile a toothy one; he reached up and cupped Blaine's face, 'you're stubby,' he added as his thumb rubbed Blaine's chin like Blaine's thumb had rubbed his belly. "I love you."

"I love you too, Kurt." They kissed each other, both trying to transfer as much love and desire and passion into the kiss as possible. Once they broke the kiss with a plop, they stared into each other's eyes. An alarm went off somewhere, and broke their eye-contact.

"What time is it?"

"Eight:thirty," Blaine replied. "Why?"

Kurt sat up, having difficulty in doing so due to his stomach being in the way and looked around for his shirt. He didn't find it immediately, and got out of bed without it, deciding that it didn't really matter anyway. "I spoke to Ash yesterday and-"

"Who's Ash?"

Kurt turned around with slightly wide eyes. "Ash? You know Ashley. Ashley from work. Anyway, Isabelle wanted me to relax while pregnant – stay home and work as little as possible and she promoted Ashley to be my assistant. He needs help deciding whether we should use paper masks or feather boas for the spread."

Blaine felt his head spin; this was all new to him. Of course Kurt had always talked about fashion, Kurt himself was a walking fashion, but after Kurt's promotion his older boyfriend had had a lot to do. He was happy for Kurt, of course he was – he knew that this was just one step closer to Kurt's dream of becoming a fashion icon, but he didn't like that Kurt brought work home with him. Blaine was, of course, very hypocritical when it came to bringing work with him home, but that didn't mean that he liked it when Kurt did the same. "Oh," ended up being Blaine's only answer. "When do you have to go in?"

"Not for a couple of hours or so. Why?" Kurt turned around, his hand on his hip.

"Nothing," Blaine said with a shrug. He had sat up in his bed, the blanket covering his hips and legs. "I thought that maybe we could cuddle a bit."

The older man bit his lower lip, not too hard but enough to create white lines around the pressure point, before he crawled back onto the bed. He removed the blanket covering his boyfriend and sat down, rubbing their pelvises together. He didn't rock, as this wasn't a sexual act. Instead, they held each other and kissed.

"Of course I want to cuddle with you," he whispered in between kisses. He moaned loudly, breathing in. With a blink, he opened his eyes and pulled away with a sly grin.

"What?" Blaine looked a bit puzzled, and yet not too much – he knew that look. Kurt was horny. "Baby, no sex."

"I know," Kurt shrugged and moved further down, before his head was just above Blaine's penis. "But I thought that I'd give you a little bit of pleasure." He smiled again, and leaned down, all the while his eyes still remained on Blaine's. He opened his mouth, slowly, knowing how much it aroused Blaine, before he stuck his tongue out and touched the tip of Blaine's member with the tip of his own tongue.

Blaine's eyes rolled back and he leaned his head backwards, feeling undeniable delight, already from the small licks Kurt gave him. Kurt trailed the pointy part of his tongue, licking the blue vein underneath Blaine's penis, and followed the vein all the way up to the edge of his boyfriend's semi-erect member. "Oh God." Without saying a word, Kurt opened his mouth completely, and bend down, taking in all of Blaine in one gulf. He pressed down even further, feeling Blaine hit the back of his throat; Kurt felt slightly proud from the fact that he didn't gag when he did so. When Kurt had first met Blaine and the two had started dating, Kurt was completely innocent. Kurt had only had one boyfriend before Blaine, back in the beginning of Sophomore Year, but they'd only dated for a few months – not nearly enough time for Kurt to get comfortable and lose his clothes. Kurt tightened his lips around the round shape and pulled up again, his tongue still trailing the shaft, tickling Blaine ever so slightly. The younger man shivered from the pleasure, and let out a high-pitched gasp, when Kurt let go of his dick with a plop.

"You like that?" Kurt asked, bashing his eyes innocently. Had it not been for the stomach, showing that Kurt clearly wasn't a virgin, Blaine would've thought different. Kurt had that about him; even though he was the older one, Kurt had always been the shy one, the cute one. 'The baby penguin', as Kurt had called himself when they'd first started dating.

Not feeling ready to form longer sentences, Blaine nodded and stuttered: "y-yes. Please baby."

"Tell me what you want, Blaine," Kurt breathed, leaning down once more and placed a kiss on Blaine's phallus, tasting the salty precum, which were already leaking heavily from Blaine. The pregnant male licked his lips, and looked up at Blaine through half-closed eyes. "You like that?"

Blaine nodded. "U-hu."

"Good," Kurt grinned and leaned down again, this time reaching with his left hand and grabbed the root of Blaine and started pumping. "I want you to cum," he said, stroking softly at first, "while you're in my mouth." He gave Blaine a smile and leaned down, licking Blaine's dick hard, before he leaned forward a bit and took in all of Blaine. He pressed down, all the way once again and pulled up – almost all the way up, before he redid the same action all the while he still continued to pump the base of Blaine's penis.

He could hear Blaine muttering above him, 'keep going' and 'oh fuck, Kurt'. There was no denying it when Blaine was close; the way his thighs tensed and his dick started to tremble. The thick vein grew even larger, and his penis a bit more erects. "I'm coming," Blaine warned, not yelling, but softly. He voice was raw – just the way Kurt liked it. It was only a few seconds later when Blaine did come, and he emptied himself into Kurt's mouth. The older man swallowed as much as he could; the rest dripped from his chin and back onto Blaine. The curly-haired lawyer lay panting on the bed, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. He could feel how his expecting lover crawled up slightly and lay down next to him. The ever-growing belly lay pressed against his site, and he felt proud all of a sudden. "I," he breathed, still catching up, "love you. So so much."

"I love you too," Kurt whispered, he himself exhausted from the act. It wasn't often that Kurt gave Blaine blowjobs, not really liking the whole idea very much, but he knew that Blaine absolutely loved it, and when Blaine finally did receive a blowjob, it was always spectacular. "But I really need a shower now."

Blaine nodded his head, 'yeah', but didn't get up when Kurt did. "I'll make us coffee," he said, his breathing still heavy. He was sweaty as well, but he didn't really notice it all that much.

"Thanks," Kurt said, and entered the bathroom. Dribbles of water sounded across the apartment, before Blaine finally did get up. He scratched himself on his lower abdomen and frowned slightly when his fingers came in contact with a bit of fresh semen. Once he was in the kitchen, he grabbed a few pieces of paper towels, moisturized them and used them to rub off the worst of the mess. "When do you have to go in?" Kurt asked as soon as he walked through the door.

Blaine looked over towards the microwave, where a small red, digital clock ticked away. "Not until later," he answered. "Five hours, maybe less. Coop needs me to go over the newly found evidence with him before the trial starts again."

"Oh," Kurt looked confused, but always did so. "And then this trial is over?"

"It should, yeah. I mean, of course there's always cases that are unnatural, but today the jury should give their verdict."

Kurt smiled and walked over towards the coffeepot. "Thanks for the coffee," he added, before he continued. "Do you want to celebrate it afterwards?"

"Celebrate?"

"Yeah," he poured the black steamy liquid over into his favorite coffee cup. "Yeah, go out for dinner or something?"

"Oh," Blaine walked over towards the taller man and wrapped his arms around him, with a little bit of difficulty, since his arms almost couldn't reach around Kurt's stomach. Really, only eight weeks? "I would, baby, but when I'm done you'll be sleeping."

Kurt breathed in frustration, but tried to hide it by drinking from his coffee. "Okay. Another time maybe."

"Definitely."

– – – – – – – – – –

Kurt entered VOGUE's hallway through the elevator, strutting down through the many desks, where people sat scattered and typed away on their computers. Some noticed him and smiled, while others were too busy with their individually jobs to even notice their pregnant colleague.

One person who noticed Kurt's return was Paul, who stood in the corner, his arms crossed in front of him, and scowled. 'Looks like nothing's changed' Kurt muttered to himself, as he entered Isabelle's office. "Hi," he coughed slightly, making his entrance noticed.

The slightly older lady looked up, her otherwise slightly beautiful features looking rather stressed, though she soon covered him those flaws and a smile spread across her face. "Kurt," she shrieked and rose from her chair, her arms stretched out and greeted Kurt with a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Though a bit big."

The woman looked Kurt up and down, shaking her head with a smile. "Look at you – I saw you only a week or two ago, and now you look ready to birth these bebes any day now."

"I know," Kurt agreed with a laugh. "I don't know what happened; one day I was miserable about not being pregnant, although I was still skinny. The next day I'm pregnant and huge, but I'm not complaining. To be honest, I've never been happier."

"I'm glad, honey." The boss led her employee to one of her chairs and sat down with him. "I thought you had until the end of the month to rest a bit before returning?"

"I know," replied the younger man, his hands rested in front of him in a protective manner. "But Ash and I dined together yesterday, and he told me that it was a bit too hectic in here at the moment, so I thought I'd come in and help out."

Isabelle nodded, a proud look on her face. "See, this is why I promoted you – my trusted assistant. Only you would do such a thing."

Kurt grinned, and followed Isabelle with his eyes as she left to go get Ashley. "Hey hottie," Ashley said as he entered the office without taking a seat.

"Hey," Kurt grinned, and began rising, though having difficulty doing so. He gasped a little, and felt two hands grab his elbows to help him up and keep him steady. "Thanks Ash."

"No problem. Maybe we shoul- woa," a look of panic crossed the younger man's face, and his eyes widened with terror as he watched the expectant father sway and pale. "You okay?"

Kurt's eyes were half-closed, his cheeks paler than usual and he felt hot. And cold, but mostly hot. "I- I don't know," he stuttered, releasing another loud gasp. He felt a heave of nausea fill him, and he gagged, covering his mouth with one hand while he continued to hold onto Ashley with the other. Both of them waited for the sickness to pass, none of them noticing Isabelle standing close behind them. A few moments passed, before Kurt nodded that he was okay. "Maybe we should just do this sitting down."

"Yeah, you're right." Ashley turned around and locked eyes with Isabelle, asking her permission with his mind. She nodded, and hurried out of her office, busying herself with something else. "Let me just go get the map. Do you need anything? Water, fruit, Blaine?"

"Water would be fine," Kurt said, his head in his hand. "And a banana. Do we have any bananas?"

Ashley nodded. "I don't know, but I'll look." He paused. "You don't want me calling Blaine?"

"No," the young man shook his head, though not too much. His head was spinning enough as it was. "Don't – he's rehearsing for his trial."

"Right," Ashley grabbed one of Isabelle's water bottles from her fridge, and excused himself for a short time to go get a banana. When he returned, he handed one to Kurt, who thanked him. "How's Blaine's trial coming along?"

Kurt had spoken to Ashley the day before, expressing his concern. "Good. He's certain that he's going to win."

"I hear a celebration coming along," Ashley joked, blinking one eye at Kurt.

"No, not really. He'll be at the courthouse late, and then there's a lot of paperwork to do. But maybe later."

"When did he come home last night?" his voice had a hint of suspicion and accusation in It, but Kurt didn't seem to notice, as he answered 'sometime around midnight. Not sure – I was asleep.' Ashley licked his lips. He nodded, but didn't say anything as he went to retrieve the maps, containing photographs, textiles, notes and more. Blaine didn't deserve Kurt. He deserved so much better.

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Mr. Smythe turned back towards the jury, looking guiltless, but Blaine knew better. Sebastian Smythe was no way near innocent. "Ladies and gentlemen," his voice even rang with bells of the devil, but a darn good devil's advocate he was. "With this knife," he lifted a see-through bag high up in the air, showing off its contains; a large knife glistening, still red with blood and soiled from dirt, "Mr. Benton mercilessly murdered his wife. Twenty:seven times did Mr. Benton plunge this knife into his wife's chest, legs, arms and head – an obvious overkill. Some of the stab-wounds even indicate that torture-like methods has been used." He placed the knife back onto the table once more, and took a deep breath. He calmed himself – his eyes closed when he did so, before he turned back around. "It's obvious, obvious, that Mr. Benton is the murderer of Alice Benton. He was found at the crime scene, hovering over her lifeless body, covered in her blood. It was only after their son, Michael, came home that someone called nine-one-one, but this didn't happen until after twelve minutes post-mortem. This gives Mr. Benton plenty of time to hide the murder weapon. And hide it, he did – it was found buried in their neighbor's backyard."

Blaine turned towards his client, when he out of the corner of his eyes noticed him move. "He's good," Mr. Benton said, quiver evident in his voice.

Blaine nodded, his mouth firm. "But I'm better." He was sure that he was better than Sebastian. He had to be. For Mr. Benton, but also for Kurt – the finding of the murder weapon only problematize the case even more, especially since the filet-knife belonged to the Benton family.

"The blood pattern found on the wall matches those found on Mr. Benton – clearly what we like to call active blood-pattern." So far he had been turned towards the audience, but now he turned towards the jury, knowing that they were, ultimately, those who decided if Mr. Benton was guilty or not. "Active blood-pattern, contrasting passive once, indicates that the blood has been transferred to this specific location by a force other than gravity. This often happens when a major artery has been punctured while the heart is still beating. Such blood-patterns were found on the accused," he turned towards an overhead and placed a photo on it, highlighting it for the room to see. He pointed at the photo of Mr. Benton's right ear, and continued. "This type of blood-drop is a clear indication of active blood pattern, which means that Mr. Benton was in fact not with his lover at the time of the murder. He couldn't have been, since he must've been present at crime scene at the time of the murder for this type of blood-pattern to be transferred onto him."

The jury sat quiet and listened to the prosecutor as he showed the evidence against Blaine's client. They looked convinced, and it concerned the young lawyer. A few of the jury members even nodded their head in agreement, some looked disgusted, as Sebastian spoke about the blood-patterns and the obvious fact that Mr. Benton was the murderer of his late wife. The father to be sat restlessly on his chair, fidgeting with his pen- pressing the point in and out. He almost missed it when the judge turned towards him, indicating that it was his turn to defend his client – maybe for the last time. He gave Mr. Benton a curt nod and rose with a palpitation sigh.

Once again he opened with the respectful line, "ladies and gentlemen, my name is Blaine Devon Anderson, representing my client, Mr. Gunther Benton." He felt s sudden peak, knowing that Sebastian had forgotten to do so, to show respect to the jury, and to the judge. "Judge, fellow Americans." He paused, for a split second having forgotten the exact words that he wanted to say. He could feel the sweat on his forehead forming small drops, ready to slide down his already shining forehead any minute now.

"You've heard the prosecutor's case against my client, and I must say that it was good. Yes, all the evidence do point towards my client, but we've seen cases before where forensic science has given a false positive." He stopped for a short moment to lick his lips, before he continued. "Have you ever been in love? Have you ever married the person you loved, thinking that this love would be eternal? My client did. He met Alice back in High School – they were High School Sweethearts. Mr. Benton, the accused, was on the local Math Team, while Alice -maiden name McAndrew – was a cheerleader. They married right after graduation, and they didn't wait with kids. They now have two children, Michael and Mary and a couple of lovely grandchildren. They were happy, and even after all these years, they were still in love. But then Mr. Benton met Celine, a young and beautiful secretary, who returned his feelings. And suddenly my client was at a cross-road – what should he do? He was married to a beautiful wife, the mother of his kids, but here was Celine – a young and exciting woman who could give him everything he had ever missed in his relationship with Alice."

Blaine turned towards the table where Sebastian Smythe sat next to his assistants – nameless people in Blaine's minds. The young lawyer gave Mr. Smythe an extra glance, before he turned back towards the jury.

"Murder her, is what the prosecution would claim. They claim that my client, an aging man, murdered his wife because he chose his younger lover. And while the last statement is true, that he chose Celine over Alice, it doesn't lead up to the fact that he murdered his wife, because he didn't. My client has an alibi, he has witnesses who's seen him enter and leave his lover's apartment at certain times – times, which makes it impossible for my client to get home and murder his wife. And as for the blood-patterns," he raised his hand a bit, doing the same with his voice. "Active blood-patterns are often transferred to their resting location when an artery has been cut, but not always. What qualify them are the fact that they're put in their place from forces other than gravity, as Mr. Smythe also mentioned. But this doesn't enclose the fact that my client is the murderer. They could've been transferred to their respective places from other reasons. Mrs. Benton was surrounded by blood, a blood-pool if you like, and once my client came home to the devastating discovery of his murdered wife, he rushed to her side and lifted her. Blood from the pool and blood from her could then have landed om him, looking like active blood-patterns."

He continued to counter argument every single detail Mr. Smythe had brought up – 'of course my clients fingerprints were found on the murder weapon, seeing as the knife belongs to the family' and 'fabrics and DNA profiling will do nothing in this case, seeing as the two people in question were married and therefore interacted a lot with each other.' He talked for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than twenty minutes, before he closed his speech with a pledge for the jury to see reason and not find his client guilty.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion; he felt as if he was in a bubble, and someone was about to pop it. He only registered the 'not guilty', when Cooper rose, bringing Blaine with him and they hugged each other and shook hands with Mr. Benton. He couldn't believe it – he'd won his first, big case.

– – – – – – – – – –

A squeaking door brought him out of his thoughts. The young man looked up, and smiled as he saw his brother standing in the doorway. Cooper Anderson leaned his head against the doorway, with a knowing smile. "Congrats, little bro," he said, but remained standing.

"Thanks. You too."

"Oh no no," answered the older brother with a soft shake of his head. "It was all you. I did nothing."

Blaine chuckled. "Don't be so modest."

"I'm not," the blue-eyed Anderson argued and entered the office fully, taking a seat in one of Blaine's chairs. "Really. This case was won only because of you." Cooper raised his left arm and looked at the shining Rolex watch. "It's only ten:thirty. Want to go out and celebrate?"

A curly mass shook as Blaine declined the offer. "I really shouldn't. Kurt's been waiting for me and I told him no when he asked if I wanted to celebrate."

"That man of yours is psychic," Cooper proclaimed with a wink. "He already knew you'd win." He patted his younger brother on the arm, and was about to rise when he suddenly stopped. "Have you asked him yet?"

Blaine knew exactly what his brother had meant: he and Kurt had been together for almost three years, and the young man had always had a dream of marrying his beloved some day. Cooper had married Anna-Louise not too long ago, when Anthony was a year. He four now! Blaine was still amazed how fast time had flown by. Blaine had only known Kurt for a few weeks, when Cooper married his fiancé, and he surprised everyone, including himself, when he asked Kurt to be his date for his brother's wedding. It was also at that wedding, when Blaine realized that he someday was going to marry Kurt – and hopefully not too long into the future.

"Not yet. I mean, we only just changed our last names, but I just, I-"

"Blaine," Cooper cut in, this time his arm lowered and he grabbed his kid brother's hand in his, tightly. "That ring in your pocket is going to burn a hole in your pants. You want this, Kurt wants this – Burt even gave you his blessing. I won't be a pushy dickhead, but I am doing this for your own good. Ask him, soon."

Blaine's chest heaved as he inhaled, "I know. It's just – I don't want him to think that I'm doing it because he's pregnant."

"Of course he won't think that it is." The older male loosened his grip, and smiled – his lips pressing down hard against each other. He was about to continue, when they were interrupted by a phone ringing.

"Two seconds," Blaine said, and answered the phone. Cooper studied the face of the younger Anderson, going from happy to serious to nervous, all in the matter of a few words exchanged. When he hung up, he didn't say anything for the first fifteen seconds. Then he looked up at Cooper, his eyebrows a weird shape. "That was Mr. Benton," he said, his voice suddenly low and uneven. "They've arrested Michael Benton for the murder of Alice Benton.

"What?"

Blaine nodded. "They want me to be their lawyer."

– – – – – – – – – –

Ok, I am so so so sorry for not updating. My friend came to visit me, and everything's been really hectic – I still had Chemistry and Crime class to attend (and today was the exam, so updates should come faster than previously) and then my mother came, my father's birthday came, my own birthday came and then we had to clean my dad's house, because he's moving and a photographer is coming tomorrow to take pictures and so on. Thank you to everyone who reviewed – much love, and please don't hesitate to throw in a review of your own, if you haven't already. I am waiting anxiously in front of my computer, squealing with delight everytime I see something from :)

Thank you for reading!