Chapter 6

A/N: I'm BACK! … Okay, so it has taken me freaking ages to update. So sorry! However, I'm done with school for the summer now, so I shall be updating much more often. This chapter starts off in a terribly fluffy fashion, but do not despair – at a later point, if you try really hard, you might just see a snippet of plot… No but seriously, there is plot later on.

Anyway… Here we go. Woohoo! Enjoy. And lemme know what you think, I beg of you! Reviews are always very lovely to read.

So… I guess this is now most definitely non-canon, some time after Original Song I suppose. Needless to say, Jesse is still in college.

Don't own Glee. If I did, Matthew Morrison's hair would be chemically straightened. I'm sorry if that upsets people, but in all seriousness, I just cannot deal with that mop of grease… (I don't know why I thought that sentence would somehow make my last statement less mean.)

A few hours later, the boys were lying on the sofa in the sitting room in Jesse's wing, watching some mindless reality show – something about models, or porn stars, or… whatever. Their heads rested on either arm of the couch, their legs mangled together in the middle. Blaine somehow found himself with one foot lying idly on Jesse's hip, and proceeded to move it further up the older boy's body, pushing up the tight black T-shirt which had been hiding his abs (much to Blaine's annoyance).

Jesse slapped the unruly foot away, pulling his top back down to cover the strip of flesh which had been exposed, his eyes remaining on the décolletage of the hysterically weeping blonde on the screen.

Blaine huffed in irritation, giving up on the ludicrous excuse for a TV show and manoeuvring his small body so that he was directly facing Jesse. He simply observed for a minute or two as the older boy gazed lazily at the plasma screen, chuckling every now and then.

Blaine jerked his legs around impatiently, trying to find a suitable position. He eventually settled for sitting cross-legged, letting his head fall backwards onto the arm of the sofa and closing his eyes. He heard music begin to play, and a crowd cheering – evidently they were watching a dance show of some sort. Jesse was saying something about the dancers not being perfectly in time with the music. Blaine wasn't really paying attention; he only heard snatches of the cocky, self-assured evaluation: "Really, I could do so much better" … "perhaps a half second off-time" … "which isn't even a complicated form of dance" … The sound of his boastful musings faded away after a while, and Jesse was silent for a minute. Then: "Hot, though."

Blaine's eyes shot open, as his head jerked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening on the screen. The same busty blonde girl was gliding across the stage in some sort of modern dance crap. (Okay, so maybe dancing wasn't Blaine's thing. What was the point? He was bouncy enough while singing already.) He rolled his eyes. "You and your bisexual hormones," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, so you were listening?" Jesse smirked, swinging his legs off the sofa and scooting closer to Blaine, who scowled at him. "And here I thought I was boring you." His blue eyes twinkled as he regarded the younger boy, moving in closer again and resting one hand on his thigh.

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes as Jesse leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was tender yet deep, and Blaine returned it needily. The older boy pulled away, smirking, and rested the hand not massaging Blaine's thigh on his shoulders. "You were slipping into your own little world again," Jesse murmured, searching the smaller boy's face for any signs of what he may have been thinking about.

Blaine merely shrugged. "I was bored," he complained. "This isn't exactly how I had planned on spending these last, what, twenty-four hours together?" Truth be told, he needed to do something right now. If he didn't keep himself occupied, he knew the guilt would start to overpower the contentment he was struggling to keep a hold of.

Jesse's brow creased in thought. "You're right," he said contemplatively, his blue eyes roaming over the chic, tastefully-decorated room. "So, what do you want to do?" He turned to face Blaine once again.

The smaller boy drew a blank. He was having trouble thinking of something to do when he was actually really beginning to enjoy just sitting there with Jesse stroking his leg. "I, uh… I…" he breathed, staring into Jesse's eyes. "I don't know." He laughed softly.

Jesse grinned. Finally, he was starting to notice the effect his hands had on Blaine. Blaine smiled too, and suddenly they were kissing amorously, their lips ardent and yearning. His hands found Jesse's toned back, caressing the muscles they found there, relishing every inch of the older boy's strong frame. Jesse groaned as he felt Blaine's tongue tracing his lips, opening his mouth ever so slightly. Blaine pushed inside, mapping out each part of the young man's mouth. Both moaned as their tongues danced together. As much as Blaine loved being intimate with Jesse in other ways, he really loved just kissing him. He adored the taste of Jesse's mouth, and the way he moved his tongue so that it put just the right amount of pressure on Blaine's, finding the perfect balance between teasing and satisfying.

Soon, both boys were moaning softly, and Blaine's heart rate increased radically as Jesse's hand moved closer and closer to his crotch. He wanted to pull away, to kiss and suck on the smooth skin of Jesse's neck, to mark the man he loved. He wanted Jesse to be his, and there was a big part of him that aspired for everyone to know such a fact. However, every time he attempted to remove his lips from Jesse's, the taller boy would pull him closer with the hand which was now grasping tightly at the curls at the back of Blaine's neck. Their lips continued to move together desperately, as if they were trying to fuse together.

Blaine gasped as he felt a strong hand pressing on his crotch. He felt the zipper of his jeans being fumbled with, and God, this was exactly the distraction he needed.

Suddenly, Maria's voice sounded through the house. "Boys! We're home!"

"And we decided to forego lunch at the club so that we could eat with our wonderful sons!" came the enthusiastic proclamation from Blaine's father.

Both boys sighed loudly as their mouths separated. Jesse loosened his hold on Blaine, but one hand still rested gently just below his belt buckle. "Jesse," he spoke hoarsely, "If I'm going to… calm down… enough to dine with your mom and my parents, you're going to have to remove your hand."

Jesse laughed, but complied with Blaine's wishes. For a minute they sat there merely staring at each other, their eyes lacklustre and their breathing heavy.

"Boys!" came the shrill voice of Maria St. James once again. "Come and be sociable!"

"Let's do this," Jesse chuckled, standing and striding from the room.

Blaine stood slowly, frowning slightly. It wasn't as if he had expected them to walk out of the room hand in hand or anything, but Jesse's sudden change in demeanour towards him had made him more than a little frustrated. Why was it so easy for him to just switch his feelings on and off? "Men," he grumbled, following his friend out of the room… Friend? Best friend? Lover? Wow, he really needed to figure some stuff out.

He walked into the kitchen to find Jesse charming the adults as usual. They hardly noticed him enter the room, so consumed were they in Jesse's ramblings about college. He pretended to listen for a while, but his mind was elsewhere. And yeah, there was that guilt again. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and quickly discovered a text from Kurt.

Okay, that was the most stressful shopping session of my entire life! But so rewarding. You have to come over and see Carole's new look once you get home! xxx

The corners of Blaine's mouth twitched into a weak smile. Glancing up, he found that everyone's attention was still completely on the UCLA undergraduate. As usual, he thought.

He swiftly decided that he wanted, no, needed to hear Kurt's voice, and promptly excused himself. Jesse threw him a moment's questioning glance before enquiring as to when exactly the food was going to be revealed.

Blaine stepped out into the large, immaculately-kept garden, phone in hand. He dialled his boyfriend's number, which he had memorised months ago, and waited (extremely impatiently) for Kurt to answer.

"Blaine!" the countertenor squealed.

"Hi," Blaine chuckled as his foot played absent-mindedly with a patch of grass. "How are you?"

"I'm positively awesome," Kurt exclaimed. "I should definitely be a personal stylist. I mean, it's a wonder I'm not professionally trained. Just gifted, I suppose." A slight pause, then, "Oh! How are you?"

"I'm… fine," the Warbler said. Kurt sounded so happy. He couldn't bear to ruin that. "Great, actually," he lied.

"Oh, that's good." Blaine could just about hear his boyfriend smiling on the other end of the line. "So, you'll be home tomorrow afternoon, right?"

"Yeah, I will." The short boy bit his lip. "And um… K-Kurt?" he stuttered.

"Yes?" Kurt sounded a little shocked. Of course, he had never known Blaine, the incompetent and insecure stutterer. He only knew the polished, sophisticated, confident lead singer Blaine.

"When I g-get back, we, uh… we need to… to t-talk." He screwed up his eyes in exasperation with himself. Well done, Blaine, his internal voice scorned him sarcastically, If you saying that doesn't worry him enough, the way you said it sure will!

"Um… okay." Kurt's tone had changed entirely. "Are you going to tell me precisely what it is we need to talk about?"

Blaine could feel his voice beginning to break. He still had no idea what he was going to say to Kurt. "Just… M-Meet me at the L-Lima Bean? At t-two o'clock?"

"Sure. But-"

"I have to g-go," Blaine interrupted. "I'll… I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, he hung up, not giving Kurt a chance to respond.

Idiot. Idiot. You're an idiot!

His inner monologue could be quite harsh sometimes. Stuffing his phone back into the front pocket of his jeans, he allowed himself to fall back against the wall of the house. How had he allowed things to become so messed up?

"Hey," Jesse called from a few feet away, slipping out of the kitchen and closing the door behind him. His eyes flickered between Blaine's fidgeting hands and distressed facial expression as he stepped warily towards him. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

Blaine laughed coldly. "I don't know what's going on, Jesse," he whispered as his eyes filled with tears.

Jesse made to embrace him, presumably to comfort him, but Blaine turned away, wrapping his arms around his own torso. "I just d-don't know what the… what the hell I'm d-d-doing right now, you know?" he muttered. He let a few tears fall down his cheeks as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to another.

Jesse was at a loss for words. Glancing back over his shoulder into the kitchen, he ensured that the adults weren't watching them through the pristine windows which overlooked the giant garden. He then moved cautiously until he was standing right behind Blaine, and wrapped his arms around the younger boy's waist, resting his head on his shoulder. "I know," he whispered into his ear. "Blaine, I know. I understand. You know you can talk to me, Blainey. Just let me in." He squeezed his arms tightly around the boy he loved.

Tears were streaming silently down the shorter boy's face. "Jesse," he mumbled, "I love you." Jesse nuzzled his neck affectionately. "But I just… I d-don't kn-know if I can do this to Kurt." His voice cracked as he said his boyfriend's name. Jesse's arms loosened their grip around him, but he continued to listen to Blaine. He knew he hadn't yet finished what he had to say. "I l-love him, too," Blaine whispered.

Jesse pulled away immediately. Blaine whipped around to face him. His eyes were red from crying and his lips quivered as he tried to muster up something to say.

Jesse's face was void of any emotion. "We should go back inside," he said. "They'll be waiting for us. Clean your face up first, though."

"J-Jesse," Blaine croaked, "C-Can't we just t-t-talk about this?"

"I really don't feel like talking right now, Blaine," came the reply as the older boy turned and marched back into the house.

And once again, the withdrawn and emotionless monster had reared its callous head.