Six months later.

"I want to die of shame," Blaine announces dramatically one day when he arrives home from work.

"Oh?" Kurt looks up from the script he is studying- ostensibly trying to learn lines but in reality daydreaming about whether Lilies or roses would look better for the center pieces.

"I went to the eye doctor," he explains, leaning over the couch to kiss Kurt's lips. "I need glasses."

"Is that all?" Kurt laughs. "I thought it was something highly embarrassing. All the dramatics for a pair of glasses."

"No, listen," Blaine says as he returns from the hall closet minus his jacket and shoes. "Wanna know why I need them?"

"To see?"

"Haha," Blaine responds dryly as he sits and takes Kurt's feet into his lap. "It's your age, Mr. Anderson, happens to us all."

"Ha! Excellent."

"Yeah, I knew you'd find that funny," he grumps, but it's good natured as he rubs at Kurt's toes.

"I'll help you pick some out."

"I did it myself," Blaine answers, a little proudly.

"Oh no, you did not. Oh Blaine," Kurt sighs. "You shouldn't attempt theses things without me... Especially since your ageing eyes can't see very well."

"That's enough," Blaine laughs, slapping his leg. "I only need them for reading music, and close up stuff."

"Okay, lemme see. And then we can make an appointment to go back and change them."

"You think you're funny, don't you?"

"I know I am. Now let me see."

"Fine," Blaine huffs, stomping out into the hallway once more and returning with a case in his hand. "Just...try not to laugh. Okay?"

"Okay."

Blaine puts the glasses on, blushing furiously when Kurt's jaw drops. "They're terrible. I knew it."

He makes to take them off but Kurt stutters to life. "No! No, um...leave them on. They're not terrible. Far, far from terrible in fact."

"They're okay? Passable? I managed to choose something acceptable to your exacting standards?" Blaine grins wide as he sits down on the couch and looks over the top of them at his fiancé.

"Blaine...they're hot."

"Oh please."

"No, they are. Like, really hot."

"Yeah right."

"Blaine..." Kurt whines, suddenly very, very needy as he climbs into Blaine's lap. "I'm gonna need you to do unmentionable things to me, right now, while wearing the glasses."

"Huh?"

"Okay...since your brain isn't working right now, let me spell this out for you. Fuck me. Keep the glasses on."

"Oh." Blaine stares, shocked, but his hands come up to grip Kurt's hips, fingers digging in as he feels himself start to get hard. "You like the glasses, huh?"

"I love the glasses," Kurt corrects, "They make you look so...commanding. So sophisticated and...old, in a good way. And I'm gonna need for us to get dirty."

"Dirty?"

"I'm talking filthy, Blaine. I'm gonna need to you to work me open with your tongue and then fuck me hard."

"Jesus Christ," Blaine pants as he pushes up against Kurt's ass before he's kissing him, and Blaine feels the subtle moment that Kurt gives himself over, hands him the control as their tongues meet and Kurt drapes his arms over Blaine's shoulders, happily accepting the feel of Blaine's glasses digging into the side of his face as their passion builds and both groan low in their throats.

"Clothes," Blaine manages to get out as he breaks the kiss and grabs desperately at Kurt's ass. "Clothes off. Stand up."

He divests them both of their clothing quickly, grabbing Kurt hard and crushing him against his chest, kissing him forcibly and teasing a finger along the crack of his ass, enjoying the way he shivers in his arms. "On all fours," he whispers hotly, and Kurt is on the floor in seconds, open and exposed for Blaine. "Wait there," he says, dropping a kiss to the base of his spine. "And no touching."

"What? What are you...? Blaine?"

"I'm back," he says, seconds later.

"Where did you go?"

"Don't worry about it. Now, do you want me to keep the glasses on while I fuck you with my tongue?"

"Fuck...yes," Kurt whines, the moment forgotten as he grips the edge of the coffee table with one hand and pushes his ass back toward Blaine's face. "Yes...just...take me."

He obliges happily, burying his face into Kurt as he licks over his entrance. The glasses push back on his face, but Kurt seems to relish the feel of the cool glass and thick steel rims pushing into his soft skin, squirming almost uncontrollably as he moans in pleasure.

"Oh fuck Blaine...yes," he pants, the feeling of Blaine's tongue teasing around him driving him crazy with lust. "Fuck me with your mouth, please, please!"

Blaine doesn't hold back, driving his tongue fiercely in and out of Kurt's hole, until he feels the muscle relax around him and he can slide a finger in alongside. His other hand he reaches around to work Kurt's cock, pumping in time with his driving tongue until Kurt is a babbling, incoherent mess, gripping the coffee table hard with one hand and holding a handful of the living room rug with the other. And then suddenly it all stops. Blaine pulls back, leaning against the couch and encouraging Kurt to straddle him, kneeling so his cock is level with Blaine's mouth.

"Come on my face," he demands, then reaches for their blue vibrator. "And I'm gonna fuck you with this."

"Oh holy shit," Kurt moans as he forces his cock between Blaine's eager lips. "Yes." He drives deeper down Blaine's throat when the slick vibrator is pushed swiftly inside, crying out when Blaine turns it on and holds it there, the sensation tingling throughout his body and making him grip Blaine's hair hard. "I'm...I'm..." he pulls out of Blaine's mouth quickly, jerking himself into his own fist twice before he spills over Blaine's face, onto his glasses, cheeks and lips. He hisses at the feel of the vibrator, but Blaine quickly pulls it out and blindly tugs Kurt down into a kiss, his sticky come running into both their mouths.

"Lemme help you out there," Kurt whispers, kissing over Blaine's cheek until it is clean, taking his cock in hand and beginning to work it. "Clean you up," he murmurs as his pink tongue snakes out from between his lips, tracing along the streaks of white decorating the lenses of Blaine's glasses.

"Oh Jesus Christ," Blaine moans, fingers digging into Kurt's shoulders as he bucks into his fist. "Kiss me. Get your come in your mouth and just...kiss me."

Kurt does as he is told, getting rewarded with feeling Blaine hum around his tongue while he comes, falling back against the couch in a ragged boneless heap.

"I should have gone to the eye doctor years ago," he quips, voice hoarse from taking Kurt so deep in his throat.

"I hope they're not ruined," Kurt chuckles as he tenderly takes the glasses from his face. "God that was hot."

"I didn't fuck you."

"Later."

"Indeed."

"What the fuck is that?" Kurt yelps as he feels something cold and hard brushing over his backside.

"Keep yourself open for me," Blaine whispers as he pushes the plug into Kurt. "I'm gonna cook dinner, then I have work to do, and then you and I are gonna have some fun."

"Don't we always?"

The day after the glasses debacle, Blaine works from home. Kurt heads off to college, walking stiffly and telling Blaine that he doesn't know how he will manage ballet and Jazz in one day, but he is quick to reassure him that it was more than worth it.

By lunchtime Blaine has written three variations of the same jingle, hoping the rather picky advertising execs at Webster Evans will be happy with at least one of them, and he decides to take his lunch out onto the balcony, picking up his phone on the way through the living room to discover five new texts.

Joe: You've broken my best friend. Can't wait to see your glasses and laugh uproariously in your face...provided it is clean.

Santana: Good god, you stop at nothing, do you? Mind you, I can see you probably do look stupidly sexy in a pair of glasses. Warning: Berry will be texting you.

Wes: Blaine. Well. I don't know what to say. Kathy wanted to know what I was laughing about, and I was that embarrassed on your behalf that I couldn't explain.

Seb: Kurt is fearful he may never sit down again. Good on ya buddy!

Rachel: BLAINE! KURT TELLS ME HE HAS RUINED YOUR BURBERRY GLASSES. OH, AND HIS ASS HURTS. ALSO, I WAS WONDERING IF YOU AND KURT WANTED TO VISIT US NEXT WEEKEND? FINN AND PUCK ARE COMING. THEY'RE CRASHING HERE BUT YOU ARE RICH ENOUGH TO GET A HOTEL FOR YOU AND KURT.

After sitting in dumb amazement for a while, he eventually decides to respond to Rachel first.
Why do you always text/email/IM in CAPITALS? WHY? As for visiting...I'm not sure. I mean...it's New York. I don't know. Can I talk to Kurt about it and let you know? I kinda want to but I kinda don't.
And Kurt is fine. A little sore maybe, but it's nothing compared to what he puts me through.

BLAINE! She replies seconds later. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH CAPITALS. IT TELLS YOU THAT MY MESSAGE NEEDS ATTENTION. I NEED ATTENTION. AS FOR NY- WELL, YES IT'S NY, THAT'S WHERE WE LIVE. BUT YES, TALK WITH KURT. I WASN'T REALLY EXPECTING YOU TO JUST ANNOUNCE IT TO HIM.

Placated, he smiles at her Rachel-ness, and then sends one group text- adding Kurt to the list.

My fiancé has a big mouth. Useful for cock sucking, not so good for keeping secrets. Because of this, I have decided to film our wedding night, to save Kurt from having to live tweet the entire thing. Hummel: I'll see you at home.

He hears back from all concerned except Kurt, who announces his presence very loudly later that afternoon by slamming the front door and screeching "BLAINE!", then stomping down the hall to the music room where he pauses in the doorway.

"Yes?" Blaine asks innocently, swiveling on the piano bench to look at him.

They stare at one another for a few seconds before they both burst into laughter, Kurt going to his fiancé, draping himself over his back, arms resting over his shoulders. "You're wicked," he says, still laughing as Blaine closes the piano before encouraging him into his lap.

"I'm wicked? Who started this thing?"

"In my defense, I only text Rachel, and then Joe wanted to know why I was walking funny. I told him it was because I'd spent four hours with a butt plug in my ass and he choked on his coffee."

"Nice."

"But that text, Blaine...that text..."

"That text what?" he laughs. "That text was wildly inappropriate? It divulged a little too much information? I beat you at your own game, Hummel. Now suck it."

"With relish," Kurt laughs, leaning in to kiss the sensitive spot just under his ear. "Did you have a good day?"

"Productive," he nods.

"Did you call your parents?"

"Yes, and the doctor said they're happy that dad has now made a full recovery. It's been a long road I guess, but he was right. He did it."

"He did. And you know each time we've seen them he looks stronger, more like he used to."

"Oh, and Rachel text. She's invited us to visit them next weekend. Finn and Puck are going too."

"New York?" Kurt asks in surprise.

"Yes."

"Oh. Okay, well...it's your decision."

"It's not my decision," Blaine says. "I want us to talk about it and decide together."

"Do you want to go?"

"I do and I don't," Blaine admits honestly. "I mean...it could be fun, and we haven't seen any of them since New Years. I also think it's a bit unfair that they always come here to visit us but we never return the favor."

"That's because you pay for their flights," Kurt points out. "They're not dumb."

"Well that may be so, but...yeah, I feel like we should go but...but I don't want to make a fool of myself."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asks softly, looking into his eyes with concern.

"I don't...I don't want to end up having a panic attack or something... And I'm scared the nightmares might come back. When I came that time to find you, I was determined, focused on winning you back and nothing else. Even as I was driving into the city I was just so busy thinking about you that I didn't even notice where I was or what I was doing."

"But you were willing to live there," Kurt reminds him.

"For you, yes. I'd do anything for you. But I just didn't allow myself to think about the possible long term consequences because getting you to love me again was more important."

"I never stopped loving you," Kurt tells him, running a reassuring hand over his back. "So...aside from wanting to placate the girls...tell me why you want to go."

"Lots of reasons. I think it could be fun. I'd like to do all the touristy stuff with you, and take you shopping obviously, but also...this will sound ridiculous but... I don't want to end up with a husband on Broadway and I'm frightened to go sit in a seat and watch him perform. I want to get over this mental barrier now, in my own time, as opposed to suddenly being faced with no alternative. I also don't want to be the parent of a teenager and they're begging to go visit there and I'm holding back, refusing to go."

"Okay," Kurt nods, "So...aside from the obvious 'it's New York' tell me why you don't want to go."

"I love Rachel and Santana dearly...but sometimes...they're a bit much. And I don't know how well I'll deal with an already stressful situation if Rach is screeching, Puck is just wanting to go out drinking and Santana is continually moaning about her lack of sex life. It's just...it's bound to be intense with them, it always is, which is why we sleep so well after they've left. I don't mean to do them a disservice, but when we were all in Ohio we only had to deal with them in little bits. I'm scared that I'll end up losing my temper or...or crying and ruining the whole trip."

"So... How about this?" Kurt asks as he takes his hand in his. "We fly out Friday lunchtime, and meet everyone for dinner that night. Saturday we spend alone, being tourists and maybe we meet up with them for a few drinks in the evening, but nothing too heavy. Sunday we all meet for brunch before you and I fly back in the afternoon. I promise faithfully to hold you in my arms while you sleep, and to be there whenever you need me. If a panic attack happens then we'll just calmly get a cab back to the hotel and stay there until you feel better. If at any point anything makes you feel uncomfortable all you have to do is look at me and I'll know, and we can walk away, Blaine. I also swear to you, that while I may text Rachel the odd little detail about our sex life, I would never, ever tell anyone if you were having nightmares or finding stuff hard to deal with."

"Why are you so wonderful?" Blaine asks, bowing his head against Kurt's chest.

"Because I have a rather fabulous fiancé who needs a little looking after sometimes," he says as he kisses the top of his head.

"I'll book the flights."

"You want to go?"

"Yeah." Blaine looks up, a small hint of a smile on his face. "Because you make me feel so safe...so loved. And I know you wouldn't ever tell anyone this stuff, you don't even need to explain."

"I'm proud of you," Kurt smiles, kissing his lips softly. "Very proud."

"I didn't even ask if you wanted to go," Blaine frowns, "I'm assuming you do?"

"Yeah, I do. I need to ask Rach to be my maid of honor anyway."

"It won't feel weird?"

"Not at all. I regret nothing. I'm living in the most amazing city with my wonderful fiancé and we're happy. New York was fine...good, even. But you weren't there and it was never where we were meant to be. Now, bring your laptop into the kitchen, book the flights and talk to me while I cook dinner."

"I need to send some of this music over anyway," Blaine says as he settles at the table. "Let's just hope they approve this time."

"I still don't see what was wrong with the last lot," Kurt comments as he takes ingredients from the fridge.

"Neither do I, but they're picky. I guess they have every right to be, they're spending millions on this campaign."

"Shame you're not getting paid millions," Kurt says with a rueful smile.

"I'm getting paid fifty grand though."

"Wow. I didn't know that. Is that what Kendal's pay?"

"Seventy five, but there's more work for them. Webster Evans are prepared to match that if I'll go exclusive- just work for them and Kendal's and no one else."

"Why don't you then?"

"Do you think I should?"

"If you could still do your session music then yes. Not because we need the money from the sessions but because I know how much you enjoy them. I'm assuming those salaries are annual?"

"Yes," Blaine says as he clicks on his email. "It would be rather excessive if it was monthly... Ugh." Suddenly frowning, he closes his email and pushes back from the table, taking a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water.

"What's up?"

"Nothing. Just a stupid email. That's all."

"Want to chat to single girls in your area?" Kurt quips.

"Ha! No...just...dumb shit."

"Try me."

Blaine hesitates a moment, tempted to brush it off as he sits back at the table once more. But one look at Kurt's face tells him this is not an option, so he sighs heavily and gives in. "They want me to audition for the symphony again."

"What? That's fantastic!" Kurt laughs, walking over to the table. "You're gonna do it, right?"

"It's not fantastic and no I'm not going to do it," Blaine says petulantly. "I failed last time, in case you'd forgotten."

"You didn't fail," Kurt says as he sits in the adjacent chair. "You lost out to someone with more experience. Is it for percussion again?"

"Violin."

"But this is what you wanted!" Kurt cries. "You have to go for it Blaine, you have to."

"I don't have to do anything," he says brusquely. "And I'm not auditioning again. That's final."

"But you really..."

"I said no, Kurt. End of discussion." He shuts the laptop and stands quickly, stalking off to his music room and leaving Kurt to swallow over the lump in his throat before continuing with dinner. He shakes his head in disbelief when he hears some kind of violin concerto being played, his mood now mutinous as he serves their meal and stomps down the hall.

"Blaine! Your dinner is on the table."

He stomps back, scowling in his chair as he pushes his salmon around the plate with his fork, not even looking up when Blaine settles opposite. "Thank you for dinner," he says meekly, wincing when Kurt does nothing but huff. "I'm um...I'm sorry for getting angry back there."

"Whatever."

"Don't do this," Blaine pleads.

"I can do what I want."

"You regress into adolescence whenever things don't go your way," Blaine argues. "You are twenty years old, Kurt. Not twelve."

"Yes, twenty years old," Kurt fumes. "Old enough to be engaged to you, adult enough to have a relationship which stands on equal footing...and yet...and yet it's fine for you to tell me I should go to London...but when I even attempt to suggest you should audition you tell me no and refuse to discuss it any further. And then...then! You take out your annoyance and frustration by going and playing the most exquisite piece of music on the very same instrument you refuse to audition with."

"I can't go through the rejection again, Kurt, I just can't. It hurt so bad last time."

"Yeah, because we were left with no money, but that won't happen this time! You've just been telling me that potentially you're going to earn a hundred and fifty thousand dollars this year Blaine! What have you got to lose?"

"My pride...again? The eternal sense of shame that I have from feeling like I let you down? The feeling of being good, but never quite good enough?"

"Oh Blaine," Kurt sighs, pushing his dinner to one side as he climbs into his lap. "Listen to me." Winding his dark curls around his fingers, Kurt presses a small kiss to his temple before continuing. "You could never let me down, for a start, so please stop thinking that way. And if it's pride... Well we don't have to tell a single soul that you're going for this if you don't want to. As for never feeling good enough... The last time you auditioned for them on the violin you got the gig. You didn't get the percussion, but you said yourself it's not where your natural abilities lie. They wouldn't keep asking you to audition if they didn't like you as a person, or believe you were gifted at music. Why would they bother? They can invite people to audition, Blaine, they don't have to run an advert in the Tribune asking for candidates. I'm going to say something to you that you told me months ago, when I was sulking about potentially going to London. I want you to do this, and I think that if you're being honest with yourself, you'll admit you want to do it too."

"I shoulda known that would come back to bite me on the ass," Blaine grouches as he tries to hide in Kurt's neck.

"When's the audition?"

"Two weeks."

"Want me to come hold your hand?"

"I can't play the violin if you're holding my hand," Blaine smiles.

"So you'll do it?"

"I'll do it... For you, more than anything. But not a word to anyone."

"I promise."

A/N- Just a reminder I am now taking a weeks break, next update will be Friday November 1st. Becky :)