A/N: ***PLEASE READ THE A/N!*** THERE ARE IMPORTANT EXPLANATIONS BELOW.
So hopefully the last chapter wasn't too confusing. Basically what last chapter came down to was that Blaine and his sister are protected under the Familial Ties Act because they have a close relative that is a vampire.
Some of you may be doubtful that his sister is still living—it has been months, after all, since she's been captured, meaning it's been months that she's been in the farms—but in my story, the government takes children into special consideration because they have more years left to live and are mostly more resilient than adults. Also, since the world is in the middle of a blood shortage they try to conserve humans as much as possible. What the farms do is they draw from the children until the very last possible second and then take them off the IV's so they can recover back to full health before repeating the process over again. Essentially, the children will be farmed for the rest of their lives. Pretty horrible way to die, isn't it?
But have no fear, Kurt and Blaine are coming to the rescue! That is, if they don't keep getting distracted with each other first. This chapter is basically both Kurt and Blaine's perspective on one event.
WARNING: This chapter leans more towards the rating M than T. M starts after the first break in case you want to skip.
Kurt meticulously molds his bangs into a coif, coating each section of hair with an appropriate amount of gel before sculpting them to their normal, daily perfection. His fingers move mechanically as he works, each movement copied down in muscle memory and executed with professional grace as he tilts his head forward into the lamp light. But today, he pays significantly less attention to the art form than usual.
He can't help but keep jumping back to that same memory that's been plaguing his mind since it happened.
They'd knocked heads. That is, sincerely, all.
But even with this sentiment, he can't stop the tingling sensation from returning to the soft skin of his lips, can't prevent the rush of heat spreading through his body as if the blood sloshing in his stomach is being set at a low boil.
It'd felt so…good.
Kurt has to stop his ritual in order to slow his sudden rapid breathing.
From the moment the mask of grime had been lifted, Kurt had admitted to himself that Blaine was attractive. He'd then put the feeling aside, passing it off as some sort of short but powerful infatuation with the boy's aura of mystery. Now, though, he isn't so sure.
Since the incident in the kitchen, Kurt feels as though a switch has been flicked on in his brain, as though his body is a radio tower now picking up a different frequency. No matter how hard he tries to distract himself from his thoughts—all of which seem to be focused on Blaine—he can't stray for very long before falling back.
And as he tries to focus on readying himself for the coming day, he finds it especially difficult to block out the small, but barely audible sounds of Blaine's mumblings emanating from behind the closet door.
Wait…mumbling?
It takes Kurt a moment before he realizes that, no, Blaine has never before talked in his sleep.
He abandons the work on his hair in an instant, darting up from the chair and over to the door. Pressing an ear to the wood, he hears the sounds at a higher volume; sighs and incoherent murmurs break the occasional space of silence, accompanied by small whispers and the shuffling noises of Blaine shifting on his mattress. Kurt smirks to himself and debates whether or not to open the door and wake him. After the rational side of him gives its two cents, Kurt decides that it would be in both of their best interests to quiet the boy and not risk his parents overhearing. He opens the door quietly and creeps in, momentarily curious at the new clarity of Blaine's speech, some of which he recognizes as actual words.
Most of what Blaine says is generic and a little boring for the endless possibilities of unconscious chatter. Kurt listens as Blaine whispers things like "no", and "you", and "yes".
A bit disappointed, Kurt reaches down to give Blaine's shoulder a firm shake when he hears something that he never expected to pass from Blaine's lips.
"Oh Kuurt…"
For a moment, Kurt thinks he imagined it, only to be proven wrong when Blaine punctuates his previous exclamation with a low moan.
Kurt freezes. He blinks.
Is he…is he having…one of those dreams?
His mind throws up an involuntary wall, blocking the thought mid-process. No, he can't even…he can't think about that right now.
Kurt lets the embarrassed shock pass through his system before even attempting to regain muscle control. It takes a surprisingly long time.
Finally, when he is able to move his arms and legs he bends down shakily and jostles Blaine's shoulder a bit more violently than he originally intended.
"Blaine! Blaine!" he hisses frantically. Blaine emits a small groan, not as a product of his dream but instead from being woken up in such an abrupt manner.
"Wha…What's wrong? W-wha time izit?" Blaine slurs, still too drowsy to properly function.
"You were…erm…snoring." Kurt says with a noticeable grimace. Blaine's brows scrunch together in groggy confusion, missing Kurt's expression that reads 'lying' like a flashing neon sign.
"W…What? But, I never snore…"
Kurt feels his insides begin to sink. He hadn't counted on Blaine protesting.
"Well, you were this time. Must be…must be that the mattress is getting too low. I'll inflate it more tonight."
"Kurt, are you sure?"
"Y-Yep! Yep, totally sure!" Kurt replies, his voice skipping into a higher octave. This time, Blaine seems to catch on and he tilts his head with suspicion, staring at Kurt unwaveringly as if waiting for some kind of confession, his hazel-green eyes hypnotic and entrancing.
Oh god, Kurt thinks as he hold's Blaine's gaze. His pupils are still blown out black…
And that, for Kurt, seems to be the catalyst.
A strange feeling begins creeping towards Kurt's gut, not at all unpleasant and somewhat—if he would choose a word to describe it—hungry. A bout of astonishment throws Kurt's thoughts off kilter and his mouth drops open the tiniest amount, enough for him to almost taste the heady scent of Blaine wafting from every fabric on which the other boy is sitting. The boiling in his stomach returns, but with a force which entirely surpasses any he's felt in a very long time, rumbling until he begins to fear that it might actually be audible. Unlike moments before when had had to force his body to move, Kurt now faces the challenge of restraining the urge to reach over and just feel, to just run his hands over the dark haired boy simply for the desire to learn him. The yearning is both pleasant and terrifying, and Kurt can't make up his mind on which is the dominant emotion.
"Kurt, is something wrong?" Blaine finally asks.
Kurt shakes his head silently, not trusting himself to speak just yet. He needs time to process this…this thing he's feeling. He needs time to let it sink in so he can make some sort of decision about it.
Blaine hesitates before continuing, waiting for Kurt's response that doesn't come. Finally he opens his mouth again, only to close it so his tongue can dart out and wet his lips. Kurt's mind fills with all sorts of images he didn't even know he could conjure, and his eyes widen with abashed embarrassment.
He can tell Blaine caught the change in his expression, and he fights to regain composure before he completely blows his cover.
"Okay…well, if you decide to tell me at any point, don't think twice. If something is bothering you, I'd like to know. I'm your friend, and all."
Kurt nods again, and then clears his throat.
"Ahem, well, erm…I'm going to go, uhm, eat breakfast and…and I guess I'll see you again when I get back from school. Bye."
He exits the closet quickly, leaving Blaine sitting in the dark.
Blaine doesn't know what led up to this, can't recall what he was doing before it started happening, before he'd been pinned down on the comforter. He only registers the way his skin seems to be smothered in a painless fire. The way currents of electricity ripple through his body in sensuous waves. The way his throat stings in a way that really shouldn't feel so good as whimpers and groans tear out of his mouth in and endless stream. He wants to move, wants to relieve the pressure that appears the be making itself quite apparent farther down south, but something is on top of him, gripping his wrists and trapping them above his head like shackles. He isn't afraid; he doesn't have the sense to be. And he soon realizes that he doesn't need to be when he hears a low, rough whisper brush past his earlobe.
"God, Blaine, you should see yourself right now…so…ugh…"
A sensation rips through him just after the words resonate in his mind and his eyes roll back in his skull, back arching off the soft surface beneath him as a scream of utter exaltation breaks past his lips.
After his mind clears enough to process snippets of thought again, he realizes that the heavenly feeling is coming from the same place the pressure had been. His blurry eyes whirl as he tries to figure out where he is and they catch on something lying next to him in a rumpled heap: a pair of blue jeans with his old cell phone still protruding from the pocket. It takes him a moment to fully realize what that would imply.
And then the whisper comes again, the higher pitch of the voice contrasting deliciously with the lusty tremor from before.
"Nng…Blaine…"
Blaine's mouth pops open audibly. It's Kurt. Kurt's doing this to him. And it feels so…
"Ah! Oh, Kuuurt!" he whines as another explosion of pleasure rocks through him. He can't stand it…his brain feels about ready to have a meltdown from sensory overload.
Apparently his mouth had never closed, and Blaine feels Kurt's weight shift forward just before another pair of lips forcibly possess his own. Kurt's tongue dips down and swipes across the underside of his teeth, runs along the roof of his mouth. Blaine struggles to control his ragged breathing, even as his entire body lay covered in a sheen of sweat, the moisture evaporating where Kurt's cool palms meet his skin. Everything around him is moving from his trembling limbs to the gorgeous boy above him, and Blaine feels his awareness begin to crumble away, feels his mind begin to be swallowed up by it all.
Kurt twists his wrist expertly and Blaine lets loose a strangled keen.
Oh god, I can't take it anymore, please, I can't handle this…too good…can't…think…I need to…I need…I'm going to…
And then the entire universe surrounding him gets sucked into a black vacuum. The pleasure stops.
Kurt is gone. The bed is gone. So are his jeans and cell phone. He's surrounded by darkness, the only sound penetrating the void vague and distant at first, finally morphing into a sharp, cutting command.
"Blaine. Blaine!"
He groans. Why can't he just go back to the place he was before? What's so wrong with that?
But he recognizes the voice—it was the same one that'd been whispering to him, but now just in a different tone—and forces his protesting eyelids to open. Kurt is kneeling next to him, eyes flustered and wide. Light streams into the closet from the open door and assaults Blaine's eyes.
"What's wrong? What time is it?" he tries to ask, but his lips haven't woken up yet and he ends up sounding half drunk.
His mind jumps to a different tangent. Lips…the same lips that had just been connected to the one's he is staring at now. A rush of heat plummets from his stomach downwards and he swallows a feeling of nervousness; Kurt is right there next to him, what if he notices?
By this point, Kurt's already beginning to answer, and Blaine has to tune in quickly to catch the tail end.
"…snoring," Kurt explains. Blaine frowns and scrunches his brow with fuzzy skepticism. He doesn't snore.
"What? But, I never snore."
Kurt pauses only for a moment before replying hastily, claiming that it must be because Blaine's mattress has deflated too much for comfort.
"Kurt, are you sure?" Blaine asks, his brain still muddled.
"Yep! Yep, totally sure!"
Blaine finally snaps back into full consciousness from this response. Kurt's eyes look far too wide and his voice nears the level of squeaking, not to mention that his face is beet red—for his complexion, at least— and his fists are subconsciously clenched. Blaine gives Kurt a suspicious look and waits for the truth to rear its head, waits for Kurt to break. In all honesty, Blaine is curious. He's not used to seeing Kurt this frazzled.
But after a few moments pass, he starts to notice a change.
For starters, Kurt's panicked gaze fades into a blank, unfocused stare before widening ever so slightly from what Blaine can only guess is the dawn of some sort of realization. The boy's lips part in shock and his face flushes deeper. A second or two passes where Kurt doesn't change, but finally something seems to click and the boy blinks once. Kurt's mind appears to return to the present and Blaine is floored by the difference he sees, the way Kurt is now looking at him like he's a giant, delicious piece of solid chocolate. Blaine's heart picks up its pace and begins to hammer in his chest. But not from fear, not even close.
"Kurt, is something wrong?" Blaine forces out, surprised at how level his voice is considering how wired he feels at the moment.
Kurt doesn't answer verbally and Blaine pauses for a minute in case the boy decides to attempt it. When it is apparent Kurt has no intention to, Blaine starts to continue, only to realize that his lips are cracked and dry. He quickly wets them with his tongue, not even thinking much of the action, and Kurt's face flushes even deeper. Blaine is filled with an incredibly powerful intrigue, but he decides not to ask, seeing as how Kurt looks a bit uncomfortable and he doesn't want to push things too far.
""Okay, well, if you decide to tell me at any point, don't think twice." Blaine reassures him, his eyes resting on Kurt's in what he hopes to be a trustworthy gaze. "If something is bothering you, I'd like to know. I'm your friend, and all."
Kurt nods, clearing his throat awkwardly before claiming he's going to eat breakfast and will see Blaine later. Before Blaine can reach out and catch his wrist, before he can force the truth out of the uncharacteristically jittery boy, Kurt darts out of the closet and slams the door.
By this time, it's obvious. Kurt had overheard him.
Blaine's spirit sinks horribly to his feet.
He sighs heavily and runs his fingers through his hair. A few seconds pass for him to reflect before he realizes that he had indeed been dreaming about Kurt that way, that his mind had fabricated every touch Kurt had given, every one of the boy's rough murmurs and breaths.
"Oh…" Blaine mumbles. "Oh no…"
He never noticed how connected he feels to Kurt mentally, how desperately he wants to feel that connection physically…
…and how downright inappropriate he's being to the person who saved his life.
"No no no…" Blaine gasps. He falls back onto the mattress with his head in his hands. It's all his fault. He's ruined everything.
Blaine grits his teeth with the oncoming of childish tears.
"What have I done?"