A/N- To the anon who sent me this: Do you think we just might be able to see more of these 'fantasies'? Plus, why is it that we never get a full on chapter of them using their secret box of things in their cupboard? They keep buying toys but we hardly get to see them use them
Let me try and explain: This fiction is rated M because there are sex scenes, as I deem sex to be an important part of any loving relationship. For Kurt and Blaine, I feel that (sexually) the first story was about experimentation and finding their way with each other, this story is more about deepening that bond. But I write stories. Stories you can lose yourself in, stories with plot and substance. I don't write endless smut because I prefer the romance, the intrigue and the day to day life of their relationship. That's not to say I don't enjoy the smut-fests out there. I do, and there are some excellent ones, but that's not what I choose to write. Yes they have toys, yes they have fun with those toys, and they appear in occasional chapters. But for my Klaine, nothing compares to being with each other. I hope that kind of explains things. Basically, I won't be writing endless amounts of smut involving toys or otherwise because I'm enjoying writing the story too much. :) Thank you for your review.
"Was it bad?" Kurt asks as soon as he emerges from the stage door.
Blaine laughs, kissing his cheek and taking his hand. "Kurt, this is Eliza and Ken- we play in the orchestra together. Eliza, Ken, this is my fiancé, Kurt."
"Nice to meet you," a small woman says politely, holding out her hand for Kurt to shake. "Blaine keeps telling us so much about you."
"Oh, um...thank you. Nice to meet you too," he stammers, shaking each of their hands. They are older, Kurt reckons at mid forties, and he notices a wedding ring on Ken's hand but not on Eliza's. "Are you two um..." he trails off at the subtle shake of Blaine's head, blushing furiously and feeling suddenly very, very young.
"Oh goodness no!" Eliza laughs. "I'm not married. No, we were both just at a loose end this afternoon and Blaine asked if we'd like to come see the show. I really quite enjoyed it," she smiles, and Kurt notices for the first time how positively...rich she seems. Still, a single woman on a wage that high can afford to look after herself he guesses, realizing suddenly that Blaine now moves in quite an elite social circle.
"The three of us have done quite a lot of sight seeing together over the last three weeks," Ken interjects leaving Kurt no room to thank Eliza for her comment which makes him blush again. "Usually with Abby and Richard."
"I don't think I've met them," Kurt says quietly as he grips Blaine's hand tightly.
"They were at breakfast," Ken says.
"We uh...we didn't make breakfast," Kurt says, wondering when this flush of embarrassment will ever die down and let his cheeks return to a normal color.
"Ah well, maybe tomorrow night then," Eliza says sweetly. "There's a cocktail reception after the concert."
"Oh. Oh right." Kurt looks to Blaine with wide eyes, wondering why he's failed to mention it thus far.
"And I hear you'll be traveling with us over New Years?" Ken asks, taking his shy nod for confirmation. "Excellent. You can meet my wife then. It'll be fun."
"Hey gay face and child bride," Santana says as she suddenly arrives on the scene, kissing Blaine's cheek. "What did you think then?"
"It was..." Blaine starts.
"It was shit, you can say it," she tells him, leaning across Blaine to offer her hand to Eliza and Ken. "Hello. I'm Santana, Kurt and Blaine's lesbian lover."
Kurt looks to Blaine in a panic, but rather than look horrified he looks amused, as if she's harmless. "She'd like to think she was," he says with a laugh.
"You were wonderful," Ken says enthusiastically, "so watchable."
"I know," Santana preens, but she doesn't forget Kurt, putting an arm around his waist and drawing him into the conversation. "And this one," she smiles. "Quite the scene stealer."
"Completely," Eliza agrees.
"Quite the heart stealer," Blaine says, eyes firmly fixed on Kurt and a look of complete adoration on his face. "You have time for a coffee before your next call?"
"Yes," Kurt says, voice barely above a whisper, wanting desperately to ask if it could be just the two of them, but not wanting to make Blaine feel awkward.
"Cool." He grins, turning back to Eliza and Ken. "I'm going to spend some time with Kurt," he says politely and much to Kurt's relief. "I'll see you at the concert hall."
"Can I come?" Santana asks, but Blaine quietens her with a swift "No."
"Hey! I was kind!"
"I know you were," Blaine says sincerely. "But I just really want to spend an hour alone with Kurt before our schedules pull us apart again," he explains. "I'll catch up with you later."
They all say their goodbyes, with Blaine taking Kurt's arm and linking it through his own as he escorts him toward the nearest coffee shop. "Is this okay?" he asks as they stop outside. "You'll probably think me a fool when I tell you I still don't feel very comfortable in the city."
"I don't think you a fool at all," Kurt says, draping his arms over Blaine's shoulders and resting their foreheads together. "I still think you're incredibly brave, and I love you endlessly."
Kurt kisses his lips softly, humming into it as his eyes flutter close and he feels himself starting to relax. They go inside hand in hand, ordering their drinks and settling in a booth in the far corner, Blaine sliding in right alongside Kurt, rather than opposite, which makes Kurt smile and feel like a giddy teenager once more.
"So...you okay?" Blaine asks, noting the way in which Kurt plays with the sugar packets.
"Yeah," he starts as he feels his internal panic flaring once again. "I just...people. I uh... I didn't know you were bringing people." He feels silly all of a sudden- nervous- almost reminiscent of the first time they ever got coffee together.
"Oh. Well...I just thought it would be nice, that's all. They were okay, weren't they? We've been getting along quite well while we've been on tour and I just wanted them to see you do your thing...because I'm really proud of you."
"Yeah, no, no, they were nice," Kurt rambles. "I just... Yeah. I guess I'm just a little ashamed of the show, and I'm only chorus..."
"But you are very, very watchable, Kurt," Blaine says sincerely. "And I'm not just saying that because you're mine, or because I want to make you smile. I mean it. In all honesty, no, it's not the best musical I've ever seen. But you are mesmerising. Santana was right, you steal every scene- and not in a bad, trying to hog the limelight way. It's much more subtle than that. It's the turn of your head, the intensity of your gaze. It's knowing that your dance steps are timed to perfection whereas the others are slightly behind. And you never lose focus, not for one second. I don't know how many times you've had to sit on that stage and listen to those actors saying those lines and yet you looked like it was all fresh, as if you were watching this unfold for the very first time. That's the mark of a skilled actor- unlike that boy with the blue hair who kept looking for someone in the audience. And what kind of director lets a member of his cast have bright blue hair for a play set in the eighteen hundreds anyway?"
They both laugh at this but Kurt stops first, going quiet once more as Blaine covers his hand with his. "So what else?"
"Huh?" Kurt looks up, almost dazed. "No, no...nothing else. It's fine."
"It's not fine, because you're arranging those sugar packets into symmetrical patterns as if your life depended on it. Now what gives?"
Kurt sighs, his face showing a flash of annoyance when Blaine pushes the packets to one side and takes both his hands, swiveling on the bench so they're facing one another. "It's... I didn't know. About the cocktail party, I mean. You didn't say anything."
"I just forgot," Blaine says kindly. "I only got into town yesterday and we were kinda busy..." He trails off, a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry. Yes, there's a cocktail reception tomorrow night after the recital. Will you come?"
"I...I...I don't think I will, if it's all the same to you," Kurt says, looking down at his knees and not noticing the way in which Blaine's face falls. "I'm not even old enough to drink, for a start."
"Well that's not stopped you for the past three years," Blaine says, "Besides, it's a cocktail reception, not a huge raucous party. You don't have to get wasted...in fact it would probably be quite frowned upon if you did."
"I don't have anything to wear."
"So go shopping tomorrow. Get whatever you want."
"You'll be busy with your orchestra friends and I'll just be sidelined."
"And that's what this is about," Blaine says, his impatience beginning to show. "Look, Kurt, I didn't say anything because I was too busy enjoying the fact that we were finally back together again. In case you hadn't noticed, I was rather pleased to have you back in my arms, and I prefer to spend my time reconnecting with you than prattling on about some cocktail reception. I want you to come because I want everyone to meet you. I'm so ridiculously proud to be seen with you, you have no idea. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable or whatever, but we're staying in the same hotel as all these people, and we will be again over New Year. You can't avoid them forever."
"Do they know I'm only twenty?"
"No, but why do they need to? You don't hear people introducing themselves and tagging their age on the end, do you? 'Hi I'm Roy and I'm fifty seven.' People will know there's a difference between us- they've got eyes- and if they ask outright I'll say. I'm not ashamed. But it's not something I advertise because I just don't feel the need."
"I don't know what I'll talk about," he says quietly. "I wouldn't want to let you down."
"Kurt, you couldn't...would never. No. It was you who told me you were made for this lifestyle. Please come, my gorgeous boy, please. I promise to keep right by your side and help ease you into conversations."
"I don't know."
"Okay," Blaine says, feeling deflated and sad as he pushes his untouched coffee across the table. "I can't make you," he says with a tight nod. "I'm sorry you feel that way... But I do have to go, you realize that, right? I can't be a no show."
"That's fine. I'll just...go hang out with Santana or something."
"Fine." Blaine nods again, letting go of Kurt's hands and angling away from him, making Kurt's heart lurch with sadness.
"There's uh...there's an after show party tonight," he says quietly. "I'm not going though, so I'll be back to the hotel just after you."
"Why aren't you going? I could come?" Blaine offers hopefully.
"Oh you wouldn't want to," Kurt says hastily. "It's not a glamorous affair like you're used to. It's more a keg and pizza at someone's house out in Brooklyn. And I know you don't like to travel across the city so..."
"I'd do it though, if you wanted me to be there. I'd do anything to support you."
"No it's fine, really. It's not my scene at all. Santana is going out for dinner with Rachel and some of her cast mates anyway, and I'd much rather come home to you."
"If you're sure," Blaine says with a shrug. "But I'll go to Brooklyn if you want me to."
"No really, it's fine." Kurt is firm, and Blaine looks for signs that he's hiding his true feelings but finds none. "I'd better get back," Kurt tells him with a sigh.
"Okay."
They walk from the coffee shop together, but Blaine keeps his hands stuffed deep in his pockets as they walk back to the stage door. "Have a good show," he says quietly. "It's your last one so just enjoy it."
"Thanks. You too. Concert, I mean. Have a good concert."
"Yeah." Blaine pauses, the atmosphere between them tense and awkward and he finds himself wishing he knew how to break it. "You uh...will you still come to watch, tomorrow?"
"Of course!" a startled Kurt answers. "Rachel's off- she doesn't do Sundays, and Finn is in town so all four of us will be there."
"Okay. Well...I'll see you later. If you change your mind about the houseparty just text me the address and I'll meet you there." Giving Kurt a brief kiss on the cheek, he smiles tightly once more and is gone. He's two blocks down when it happens. His heart has been pounding since he left Kurt, and the noise of the city seems to ring in his ears as he walks. He tries to block it out and focus on his breathing, but the more he does that the more everything seems to swim right before his eyes. He leans heavily against a wall, becoming more and more paranoid about the stares from passers by who in reality couldn't care less as he starts to shake and cold sweat beads on his brow. He knows he has to move- and quickly- before he throws up right there, but as soon as he pushes off from the wall his legs give out.
Strong arms catch him as he falls, holding him tight as the person loops Blaine's arm over their shoulders and pulls him toward a small side street. "It's okay," the voice comes. "It's okay. I've got you. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
"Kurt?" Blaine's own voice sounds different in his ears, high pitched and wavering, filled with tears and fright. "I think I'm..." He vomits hard onto the sidewalk, clutching onto a railing as he retches over and over until his stomach is empty.
"Here." A hand extends, offering tissues which he takes gratefully and wipes at his mouth. "Let's sit you down." He is guided to a small step, sinking down and resting his head against the cool brick wall which is hidden in the shade. "Better?"
"Kurt?" he asks again, completely confused and disorientated as he tries to take in his surroundings.
"Yes, it's me. Are you okay?"
"What happened?"
"Panic attack, I think," Kurt tells him as he squats down on his haunches in front of him. "When I found you, you were just about to fall into a dead faint."
"You came."
"Yes."
"I just...oh god," Blaine moans, head falling into his hands. "I just threw up right in front of you."
"Yeah, shameful," Kurt teases. "Cause I'd never do anything like that."
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, mortified.
"You couldn't help it. Mine was all self inflicted- and I've done it more than once. Sit here a moment, okay? I'm gonna run to the deli on the corner and get you some water. I have my phone so if you need me at all just call."
He is back in minutes, cheeks flushed from running, and he hands Blaine one bottle of iced water while reaching around to rest the other one against the back of his neck. Blaine drinks gratefully, then wipes his mouth before looking at Kurt with a confused frown.
"How did you...? Um... Because we...we said goodbye and I left... I don't..." he trails off, trying but failing to follow his own line of thought and not remembering what it was he was trying to ask.
"Well..." Kurt sits on the narrow step next to him, their bodies pressed tight together which reassures and comforts Blaine as he talks. "When you'd gone I felt really sad. Like everything and nothing had gone wrong and I couldn't work out how to rectify it. So I walked into the dressing room and it hit me. You need me. Just as I need you. You were in that coffee shop telling me you'd be prepared to travel to Brooklyn, alone, just to attend a crappy keg party if I wanted you there, because you would do anything to support me. And there's me, moaning about having to attend a black tie cocktail event with all your colleagues because I'm worried about making a fool of myself. But none of that matters, does it? Because I want to support you. My presence isn't going to make a scrap of difference to Fred or...I dunno... Ginger," he says with a small smile. "But it will mean the world to you, just as it means everything to me that you came to see my show and that you'd face all your fears to support me at some dumb party. And I want to do this with you," he says earnestly. "I want to do life with you."
"So you came to find me?" Blaine says, tears shimmering in his eyes.
"I did. And I saw the moment you stopped and leaned against the wall. I was calling your name but I don't think your ears were working, so I pushed through all the crowds and got to you just as you started to fall."
"You came."
"I did. And I'll be on your arm for the reception tomorrow night too, if you'll let me."
"Of course I'll let you," Blaine nods. "I can't think of anything better. But please don't worry about making a fool of yourself. They're nice people, they're not out to make anyone look dumb or trip you up."
"I know. I just...let my own fears surface once again, I guess. I'm so sorry, Blaine."
"Don't worry about it."
"You always say that."
"Because really, what's the point in dwelling on it?" Blaine asks. "It's only going to make us both miserable. You had a moment, you've apologized and I've accepted. End of story. I mean what I said though," Blaine tells him, eyes full of sincerity, "I'll look after you."
"I know you will," Kurt smiles. "And I'll support you. We'll be making these vows to each other in ten months anyway; it seems wise to start practicing them right now,"
"I think you've been practising them for over three years already," Blaine says as he rests his head onto Kurt's shoulder. "And you've been doing a damn good job."
"We have," Kurt corrects.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to that party tonight?"
"Positive," Kurt says honestly. "Really. I think I'd like to take another bath with you instead."
"You'll be all wrinkly, like a prune," Blaine teases.
"Says the old one."
They sit quietly for a moment, Kurt's arm a comforting presence around Blaine's shoulders as his other hand comes across and entwines the fingers of their left hands, engagement rings sitting proudly side by side. Kurt finally relaxes as Blaine's breathing slows and becomes regular at last, and he places a gentle kiss into his hair.
"What time is it?"
"Five minutes to six," Kurt tells him. "Why?"
"Shit! I'm supposed to be at the concert hall at six."
"Well you can get there by ten after if you get a cab now," Kurt says as he stands and helps Blaine carefully to his feet. "Just go steady."
"Oh but I have to go back to the hotel to get my tux!" Blaine cries. "Oh fuck."
"I'll get your tux," Kurt says as he walks him back onto the Main Street as quickly as he dares. "Just go. Once you've done the warm up your tux will be there ready and waiting for you, I promise."
"But you'll get in trouble," Blaine says, trying desperately to swallow the panic he can feel approaching.
"What they gonna do? Fire me? It's my last show, Blaine. I don't have to be in makeup until six thirty. I'll only be a little late. Here," he says as a cab pulls to a halt in front of them. "Go. I love you."
"I love you too," Blaine says, taking his face in his hands and kissing him firmly on the lips. "Thank you."
"Welcome."
"And not just for the tux."
Blaine makes it to the concert hall fifteen minutes late but much to his relief they are still tuning up. They run through a few of the pieces, going over parts the conductor wasn't happy with the previous night until they are dismissed with half an hour to go before curtain up. When he walks into the green room his tux is hanging there, and when he pulls on the jacket and puts his hand in the pocket it is to find his music note cufflinks and a small note from Kurt wishing him luck and reminding him he is loved.
Kurt sneaks back into the theatre without anyone noticing apart from Santana but one glare from him is enough to keep her quiet until he has a moment alone with her. He's not so lucky when he goes down to makeup and finds the director, Freidrich standing there, but he doesn't understand German curse words anyway, so he lets it all go over his head. He takes his envelope of cash at the end of the night and rushes back to the hotel where Blaine is waiting with a tub full of bubbles and a bottle of champagne on ice. Giddy at his first considerable wage packet, and happy that the tortuous summer is over, he splashes Blaine happily with the water then takes him eagerly in his arms that night, reassuring him and holding him tight to his chest. Never pushing for more, never making Blaine feel uneasy, he keeps him safe at all times.
The next night sees Kurt, Rachel, Finn and Santana looking on proudly as Blaine performs with the Symphony, and they rise to their feet for a standing ovation before Kurt very nervously makes his way backstage to find his fiancé.
"I should have gotten you flowers," Kurt says quietly when Blaine rushes up to him. "You were wonderful."
"You can't get me flowers when we're going on vacation the next day," Blaine points out reasonably. "That would be a waste. I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"I did. It was better than last time I thought. I preferred the music and you seemed to fit in much better, I can tell that you weren't as nervous. Oh, and Finn was completely engrossed," Kurt smiles. "I thought he'd hate it. The girls enjoyed it too, I was expecting that but Finn...yeah...he's already downloaded the last album they did, even though I pointed out you weren't on that one."
"I'm so glad," a beaming Blaine tells him. "I'll call Finn tomorrow- swell my head a little more," he smiles. "You look beautiful, Kurt," he says, lowering his voice and stepping closer to him as various orchestra members bustle past them with their instruments. "You make my head swim and the stars shine bright and...everything. You just make everything so much brighter and better."
"And you make me so happy," Kurt whispers, eyes filling with tears. "Can I kiss you? Or would you rather not? I mean...umpff." He is cut off abruptly by Blaine's lips on his, soft, warm and pliant and moving in the most wonderful way imaginable as just the tip of his tongue grazes over his.
"Oh. Okay...wow," a dazed Kurt says when Blaine pulls back. "Huh. Guess you really are proud to be seen with me then," he mutters, but the grin on his face is enormous and he just cannot shift it at all.
"Ready to go?" Blaine says with a grin that matches Kurt's own.
"You could be taking me to the chair and I'd follow you happily right now," Kurt laughs as he takes Blaine's hand.
The reception goes well. Kurt is nervous, and perhaps a little more quiet than usual, but he greets each of Blaine's colleagues politely and they are all happy to finally meet 'the one Blaine keeps talking about.' He is asked what he does, of course, and though he blushes furiously each time he explains he's still in college, no one seems unnecessarily shocked and no one asks his age. They leave fairly early, more at Blaine's insistence than Kurt's as he insists that a whole evening of staring at his fiancé in a tux means he desperately needs for them to be alone.
They return to their hotel room, taking their time to undress one another slowly and explore each other's bodies with gentle hands and lips before Kurt spoons himself behind Blaine and pushes carefully inside.
"Blaine," he says quietly into his shoulder.
"Hmm?"
"Can I just say something?"
"Right now?" Blaine asks with a groan.
"Yes. I just wanted to say that I'm so happy that you're mine. I know I tell you I love you every day- multiple times- but...yeah. I'm so proud of everything you've achieved, and you are such a wonderful, wonderful person. I'm still amazed- as I always am- that you choose to be with me."
"Thank you," Blaine whispers, pulling him unfathomably closer to his back. "But really Kurt, you are everything I could ever want...and there's nowhere else I'd rather be."