Fic: Glee: The Other Half of the Equation (Kurt/Blaine, PG-13) 1/2
“Than the Sum of its Parts” was the first long fic I wrote in the Glee fandom, and somewhere in the middle of writing it I decided I also wanted to touch on Kurt’s perspective on the same era of their relationship, including some of the same moments I’d created that would feel pivotal to them both.
I've been sitting on about 85% of this fic in some form or another for months now, determined to make it fit into the same format as Sum, but I really should have known that Kurt doesn't play by anyone's rules but his own. Sum is the story of Blaine and Kurt's early romantic relationship set in five stages (and thus parts) told through important extracanonical moments as judged by Blaine. Kurt has a different journey, a different perspective, and thus a different format and ending point.
Title: “The Other Half of the Equation”
Author: flaming muse
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 18,000
Summary: Blaine turns Kurt’s life upside-down over a tiny, bejeweled coffin. Scenes of two boys in love.
Spoilers: starts during 2x16 (“Original Song”) and ends during 2x18 (“Born This Way”)
Notes: This is a companion piece to “Than the Sum of its Parts” and deliberately parallels a few of the same scenes from Kurt’s POV as well as adding many others, though the format and breadth of this fic is quite different than Sum because Kurt’s story is his own. Both fics are entirely canon-compliant for season two, and they can be read independently of each other. If you are going to read them both, I recommend Sum first, if only because I wrote it first.
Unending thanks, as always, to stoney321 for putting up with me, for making me laugh, and for talking good sense, sometimes all at once!
Disclaimers: The characters belong to various corporate Powers That Be. I make absolutely no profit from playing with them.
Distribution: Please ask.
Feedback is lovely!
This fic is now a podfic!
Kurt arrives early at Dalton on the morning after he starts dating Blaine.
It’s not that he means to arrive early, but he woke well before his alarm, despite having been up late texting with Blaine about absolutely nothing but neither of them being able to stop, and once he was awake he couldn’t get back to sleep with all of the butterflies in his stomach. He lay in bed and was delighted and a little bit shocked to find that his memories of kissing Blaine were not from a dream, but thinking about the kisses made his heart pound with remembered desire and, even more, nerves about seeing Blaine again. Yesterday had been amazing, but that was yesterday. He has no idea what today will be. So he had gotten up, taken even more care than usual over his hair and uniform, and had finally left the house in order to avoid the questions starting to form in his father’s eyes as Kurt had jittered around the kitchen.
All of that means that Kurt is early to school, and as he pulls into the day student parking lot he takes a deep breath and tells himself to be calm. Nothing has really changed. Sure, he and Blaine kissed, and they’re in a relationship, a romantic relationship, but it isn’t like they didn’t spend most of their free time together, anyway. They’ll see each other around school, sit beside each other at lunch, practice their duet for Regionals (and this time actually sing), and do all of the things they were already doing before yesterday when Blaine turned Kurt’s life upside-down over a tiny, bejeweled coffin.
Nothing outwardly is going to change. They’re at school, and if the school is Dalton and not McKinley there are still other people around most of the time. Kurt knows he can’t expect more than a little extra attention from Blaine... and possibly an ill-timed and poorly chosen serenade, but it’s not like Blaine hasn’t always focused on him more than he should with the Warblers, anyway. They’re dating, and he knows they aren’t going to hide it here, but he thinks it’s going to look almost exactly the same to everyone else. It’s fine with him; it’s not like they’d turn into one of those stupid PDA-crazy couples even if they could.
Kurt pulls into a parking space, smiling to himself, and freezes with his hand on the ignition when he sees a familiar figure leaning against a tree by the path up to campus. From this distance it could be any dark-haired boy in a Dalton uniform, but Kurt would know Blaine anywhere.
Blaine hasn’t met him at his car in the morning since Kurt’s first day at Dalton, back when Blaine always seemed to need to guide him and shape him into something Kurt just isn’t. Kurt’s heart leaps into his throat at the memory of feeling like he couldn’t measure up here, either, and even as his pulse skitters at seeing Blaine, he tells himself firmly that if for some reason Blaine has decided overnight he’s made a mistake he will be okay. It wouldn’t be the first time Blaine hasn’t wanted him as more than a friend, and even if he loses the friendship, too, he will be fine.
Drawing himself up straight, Kurt refuses to rush as he shuts off the car, unplugs and stows his iPod in his bag, and gets out. He slings his bag over his shoulder and locks the door before turning toward the path and the boy standing there. He will be fine.
Still, he feels a dizzy rush of relief when he gets close enough to see the smile on Blaine’s face, bright and excited to see him. Kurt quickens his pace without conscious thought, and Blaine pushes off from the tree and waits for him at the bottom of the path.
“Hi, Kurt,” he says, holding out a paper travel cup when Kurt walks over. “This is for you.”
“Good morning.” Kurt smiles at the gesture and takes it. “Thank you.”
“It’s just coffee from the dining hall,” Blaine says with a shrug of apology. “And it might be a little cold.”
Kurt takes a sip, and it is far from hot and yet nowhere near cold enough to fall into the acceptable temperature range for iced coffee. “How long have you been out here?” he asks before he can stop himself.
Blaine laughs self-consciously and looks away over the parking lot. “A while,” he admits. “I woke up early.”
“I did, too.”
At that, Blaine focuses back on him, his eyes searching Kurt’s face before he breaks out into another wide smile. “Any particular reason?” he asks.
“Oh, no,” Kurt replies loftily, because although he may be head-over-heels for Blaine he doesn’t have to admit it just because Blaine’s adorable but quite obviously fishing. “Maybe it’s a full moon.”
Blaine’s eyes crinkle with amusement, but he simply nods and says, “Yeah, that must be it. A full moon. That would explain why Thad looked so hairy last night, too. Huh.”
Kurt tries to hide his smile, but he can’t. Blaine is beyond ridiculous, and yet Kurt can’t get enough of him. That’s always been true for Kurt, and it’s apparently a thousand times worse today than it was even the day before. He takes another sip of coffee to give himself something to do, and he grimaces at the lukewarm bitterness of it.
“Is it really that bad?” Blaine asks.
“I’m sorry, but yes.”
“Next time I’ll have to time things better,” Blaine says, and Kurt’s thoughts skip at the thought of next time. Next time his boyfriend comes to meet him at his car in the morning. “Come on. Let’s go get some hot coffee before assembly.”
Since what he has to drink is hardly appealing, Kurt nods and adjusts his bag on his shoulder; despite all of the extra smiling, this feels normal. They get coffee. They sit together at assembly. They walk each other to class sometimes. It’s just the same.
Then as they fall into step beside each other, Blaine reaches out and runs his hand down Kurt’s back, his hand lingering for a moment at Kurt’s waist. Kurt can’t help but startle a little, because it’s just not the sort of thing he’s used to, but it’s a gentle touch, and he can feel it like it’s against his skin despite the layers of overcoat and uniform in between. His skin prickles. His face flushes. His heart begins to pound. He takes a steadying breath, and when he looks over Blaine is watching him with happy, open affection. It is similar to and yet absolutely nothing like how Blaine used to touch and look at him.
Oh, thinks Kurt weakly and with a thrill deep in his stomach as he walks beside Blaine toward the dining hall. Everything has changed.
*
The next day, Kurt’s French class is cancelled, and he is looking for a quiet place to finish up his reading for History when he hears music coming out of the common room. It’s Chopin, one of the Impromptus, and by the way it stops and repeats from time to time it is obviously being played live on the piano. He stops and listens outside the doorway; he performed this particular piece in a recital in middle school, and he’s still fond of it.
As the piece nears its finish, Kurt dares to peek inside to see who is playing, and he’s shocked to find that the person bent over the keys and coaxing out the music is Blaine. It’s Blaine. His heart flips at seeing that familiar and welcome profile so unexpectedly.
Blaine manages to get to the end without incident, and he jerks in surprise and spins around on the piano bench when Kurt applauds politely from the doorway.
“Hi, Kurt,” Blaine says with the smile that Kurt has already identified as just for him.
“I didn’t know you had any classical training,” Kurt says, taking a few steps into the room. “Quite a departure from Katy Perry.”
“I’ll have you know Chopin was the Katy Perry of the Romantic period,” Blaine replies with an earnest lift of his eyebrows.
Kurt grins and shakes his head at the absurdity of it. God, he’s in so deep already. “I’m not sure that’s the accepted view of musical history.”
“Close enough,” Blaine says. He twists sideways on the bench and runs through a few scales. “Anyway, I like to play the classics now and then. I don’t want to get too rusty.”
“Well,” Kurt says, keeping his hands on the strap of his bag because otherwise he’s going to have to walk over and put them on Blaine’s shoulders to feel the flex of his muscles as he plays, “I don’t mean to interrupt you.”
Blaine glances up from his hands. “You aren’t. I mean, you sort of are, but I’m happy to see you. I didn’t think you had a free period now.”
“Madame Faust is out, and I need to finish my reading for History since someone kept me up talking last night instead of letting me do my homework.”
“I’ll have to talk to Finn about that.”
“Oh, yes, Finn. You know how he is; what a chatterbox, always sharing his every thought and feeling.”
“Who else could it be?” Blaine grins at him, his eyes sparkling, and it would be so easy for Kurt to drop his bag and fall into the teasing. It’s always been wonderful to spend time with Blaine, and now it has a whole new rush of excitement. It makes Kurt feel lighter just thinking about it, like he’s on a swiftly descending elevator.
It would be so very easy, so Kurt forces himself to weigh the appeal of spending this unexpected time with Blaine against his teacher’s temper when students don’t do the assigned work, and he sighs a little. “I really need to do this reading,” he apologizes.
Blaine immediately turns serious, and he says, “No, you should. I’m sorry. School comes first.”
“And you’re practicing, anyway.”
“Yeah.” Blaine touches a few keys without pressing them.
“So I’ll leave you to it?” Kurt takes a step back toward the doors, though it’s the last thing he wants to do. He knows he should, though. He needs to be smart. He can’t lose his head entirely; that way lies madness and the potential for having to transfer yet again, this time due to a restraining order against him for stalking.
“Wait,” Blaine says. “Would my playing bother you? I could struggle through some more Chopin, and you could do your reading here?”
Kurt beams at the suggestion, and he’s filled with relief that he doesn’t have to go anywhere else. So much for not losing his head. “That would be perfect.”
Blaine’s smile in reply is just as bright. “Okay, let’s do that.”
Kurt sits on one of the comfortable leather couches and pulls out his book as Blaine flips through the score and settles back in front of the keys. With a last glance over his shoulder at Kurt, Blaine starts to play, and Kurt can’t help but watch him. Even as he fumbles here and there, his fingers are mesmerizing as they flash over the instrument, and his back is strong and perfect beneath his blazer. Kurt drinks him in for a few minutes, and then he turns to his own work with the music soft in his ears. Somehow he actually reads.
By the time the period is over, Kurt is finished with his reading (or is close enough to fake it), and Blaine’s making no obvious mistakes as he plays. A distant cacophony of feet and voices alerts them that it’s time for the next class, and Blaine rushes through the final stanzas in double time to finish the piece.
“I think you need to work on your tempo at the end there,” Kurt says as he puts his book away and stands up. “Have you considered a metronome?”
Laughing, Blaine turns on the bench and comes over to him. “Everyone’s a critic.”
“Maybe, but I’m actually right.”
Blaine reaches out for his hand, and Kurt’s heart begins to race against his wishes; he’s supposed to be able to stay calm when he wants to. “That was nice,” Blaine says softly, tugging him closer.
“Me criticizing you?” Kurt is aware of the voices in the hallway getting louder, but Blaine’s eyes are pulling him in as strongly as his hand.
“I meant having you here with me while I was playing.”
“It didn’t make you self-conscious?”
“Only in a good way; I wanted to get it right so it wouldn’t hurt your ears,” Blaine replies. “And did you get your reading done?” His eyes drop for a moment to Kurt’s mouth and then flick back up to search Kurt’s eyes.
Kurt nods, suddenly unable to form words. They’re in a public room, and the door is partially open, but just like the first time Blaine kissed him Kurt finds it difficult to care.
“Okay, then we both get a reward for being good.” Moving slowly, Blaine cups Kurt’s cheek and brings their mouths together, and Kurt leans into it without hesitation, anchoring his own hand on Blaine’s lapel. He could lose himself in the faintly coffee-tinged taste of Blaine’s mouth, still so new and yet already so familiar. It’s nothing like Brittany’s lip gloss-flavored kisses; for one, it sends a heat through him that leaves him happily shaken to his core. And it’s Blaine, so it’s both exciting and easy all at once. It feels amazing. It feels right.
Then there’s a shout of laughter far down the hall, and Kurt can’t help but stiffen in Blaine’s arms.
Blaine pulls back, his eyebrows drawn together. “Are you okay?”
“I’m wonderful,” Kurt rushes to assure him.
“Are you sure?”
Kurt nods and glances at the door. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”
“It’s okay, Kurt. Nobody’s going to bother us,” Blaine tells him. “Well, they might bother us, but they won’t care.”
There’s another laugh outside, but this time Kurt keeps his reaction to himself. “I know. It just may take me a little while to get used to it.”
Blaine smiles broadly at him before schooling his expression to something sort of resembling serious. “I know just how to help with that,” he says and kisses Kurt again. This time it’s a lot less gentle, and Kurt’s the one who gets his fingers on Blaine’s jaw and in the hair at the nape of his neck and holds him in place. Blaine makes this little sound deep in his throat and kisses him harder, and Kurt’s head spins with it. He made Blaine do that.
Kurt’s dizzy by the time they pull back; Blaine looks about as amazed as he feels, his eyes dark as they rove over Kurt’s face. A marching band could walk through and Kurt wouldn’t care.
“Oh, yes,” Kurt says faintly. “That will work.”
*
The next Thursday’s Warblers practice is more fractious than usual; they’re all stressed by their schoolwork, and Wes’ suggestion that they consider preparing for Nationals (despite not actually qualifying for it) to tighten up their discipline goes over very poorly. Kurt sips his hand into his bag to find his cell phone to be able dial 911 as Trent turns a disturbing shade of purple in his near apoplexy at the idea. Fortunately no medical intercession is necessary.
The Council is forced to make all sorts of apologies to settle the room, and somehow Blaine gets yet another solo out of it, for what reason Kurt isn’t sure. Given the exciting nursing home performance schedule ahead of them it’s not like they particularly need new material.
Blaine is still arguing the relative merits of Jennifer Lopez and Kelly Rowland with David and Thad by the table as the meeting breaks up and Kurt gathers up his things. He straightens the lapels of his blazer, considers the passion of Blaine's argument for a moment, and decides that they could be there all night.
He lays his hand gently on Blaine’s shoulder and is proud that his stomach only tightens a little from touching him, not enough to call attention to his reaction. “Excuse me,” he says to the group and then addresses Blaine directly. “I’m going to go. Call me later.”
Kurt expects Blaine to agree and send him on his way, but instead Blaine says, “No, wait,” and holds out his hand, palm up to Kurt. Kurt stares at it for a moment. The room is filled with Warblers, Blaine’s in the middle of a conversation about one of his passions, and yet he is just standing there, his hand outstretched, waiting for Kurt. His expression starts out hopeful but begins to shift into something approaching hurt as Kurt continues to stare, aware of all of the eyes on them.
Slowly Kurt places his hand in Blaine’s, not quite sure what’s going on or why but unable to resist the request, and Blaine relaxes back into a smile and turns back to David and Thad.
“I’m just saying, there’s a reason that J. Lo is a superstar, but it takes more guts to try to go out on your own when it seems like one of your former group-mates is automatically going to overshadow you,” Blaine says. “I think we should do Kelly.”
“J. Lo has broader appeal,” David says.
“We could do a medley,” Thad suggests.
“A medley of J. Lo,” David says more firmly.
Thad rolls his eyes. “You just think she’s hot.”
His shoulders tensing, Blaine draws a breath to argue, and Kurt glances surreptitiously at the time on his phone. He has a pile of reading to do tonight. He wonders how long he’ll have to stand here tethered to Blaine’s hand like his favorite puppy before he can go. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow,” Blaine says instead of continuing the discussion.
Kurt blinks in surprise.
“But - “ David starts.
“I’m walking Kurt to his car,” Blaine says, and though that earns him a lift of David’s eyebrows and a smirk from Thad he just squeezes Kurt’s hand and leads him from the room.
“You didn’t have to leave,” Kurt says once they’re out in the quad. “I’m perfectly capable of walking to my own car.”
Blaine laughs. “I know, but I like to. It’s one of my favorite times of the day.”
“You like saying goodbye to me?” Kurt asks.
“No,” Blaine says gently, shaking his head like Kurt’s missing something very, very obvious. “I like having you with me for five more minutes.”
As a statement it’s bordering on both sappy and dorky, and yet Kurt can feel himself flushing a little with his delight. He hangs onto Blaine’s hand and doesn’t let go even when he leans in and kisses Blaine beside his car for quite a bit longer than just five minutes.
*
Kurt hadn’t thought it was possible to see Blaine more than he had before they were dating, but now it seems like he is everywhere. He is waiting at the parking lot in the morning, leaning by the door to Kurt’s classes, sitting by his side during free periods and lunch, dancing around him during Warblers practice, and waving goodbye after he walks Kurt to his car at the end of the day.
It’s not that Kurt is complaining, because he loves to see Blaine, but it does make it hard for him to go through his days without feeling a little overwhelmed. It’s always been true, but it’s so much worse now than it used to be. Being with Blaine is a bit like staring into the sun, only without the danger of retina-burn and premature wrinkles from sun-damaged skin; he’s the brightest thing in Kurt’s life, and when he and Blaine part it leaves Blaine-shaped spots in Kurt’s eyes for a while before he readjusts to the normal light of the world. Then just as he gets back into the rhythm of being without him Blaine pops up again, unexpectedly showing up at his side in the library or on the landing above him in a back stairwell and throwing everything else back into shadow. Kurt doesn’t mind, but he’s been so used to traversing his life largely on his own and without bright lights and giddy flips of his stomach that it’s distracting and unsettling.
Still, if Kurt occasionally takes the long way around the library to get to class to prove to himself that he can, mostly he gives into his desires to see Blaine and lets himself bask in his glow. Why wouldn’t he? He has a boyfriend, and it’s not just any boyfriend but Blaine, who is charming, funny, talented, gentle, attentive, and at times endearingly dorky. Blaine is the sort of person who has people falling at his feet - or he would if he could pick better songs for serenades and better objects for them - but he likes Kurt. It is completely and utterly bask-worthy.
So when Blaine is out in the hallway chatting with one of the teachers when Kurt comes out of his last class of the day, Kurt just smiles at him and waits with some amusement for Blaine to be finished charming the socks off of her.
“Hi,” Kurt says when Blaine walks over.
“Hey. How was class?” Blaine asks. They fall into step next to each other as they head toward the outer doors.
“Informative,” Kurt says, because there are teachers around. “And your free period?”
“Boring.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, and Blaine grins.
“Fine, it was great. Jeff and I played frisbee on the quad.”
“I’m sorry I missed that,” Kurt says dryly, though there’s something very appealing about the thought of watching Blaine running around in his shirtsleeves.
“Anyway, my roommate has an away game this afternoon, so I thought I’d see if you wanted to come hang out,” Blaine says casually, like having an hour alone in his dorm room before practice isn’t pretty much their biggest wish these days.
Kurt wants to be the kind of coy flirt who can keep his boyfriend waiting hopefully at arm’s distance for a bit of attention, but he’s learned very quickly that he is not that person or can’t be for more than a minute at a time. Instead he says, “Okay,” and tries not to grin too much.
Blaine takes his hand and smiles right back as he leads them to his dorm.
They don’t even pretend that they’re going to do anything but make out; Blaine’s toeing off his shoes before the door is even closed, and he sheds his blazer, too, while Kurt is setting down his bag. Then Blaine’s arms are around Kurt and pulling him onto the bed.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Blaine says softly when they’re arranged on their sides next to each other.
This is still so new that Kurt can barely get enough air to reply. He’s sat beside Blaine on his bed many times over the past months while studying together, watching a movie, or just talking, but this closeness of lying beside each other, their bodies inches apart and their breath mingling, is entirely different.
Blaine looks at him for a minute, tracing the corner of Kurt’s mouth with his thumb and staring into his eyes. As wonderful as it is, Kurt also feels unpleasantly exposed. He trusts that Blaine will be careful with whatever he sees, but Kurt knows the strength of his own feelings for Blaine, has known them for so long now, and he doesn’t know what he’s giving away. He’s not used to that.
The drag of Blaine’s thumb of his lip makes Kurt ache, not just physically but more than that. It makes him feel, and it’s wonderful and dangerous all at once. He needs something else, something to anchor him, something to make him feel less like he’s standing on the edge of a precipice, something to make things make sense. “Blaine, kiss me,” he whispers. He could close the distance, himself, but the inches feel like miles.
“In a minute.”
“Now,” Kurt tells him as sternly as he can, because he’s going to start trembling in a minute, and it’s going to make Blaine ask him questions instead of just kissing him. “Or I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”
“Or your own lips? We can’t have that.” Blaine’s mouth lifts into a smile, and then he leans in and is finally where Kurt needs him to be. The kiss eases the sharp edges of his nerves and gives him something much better to focus on. There’s nothing to worry about when kissing Blaine, because nothing else matters. It’s such a cliche, but it’s still true, because Blaine kisses and kisses him, making these incredible noises when their tongues touch or Kurt’s fingers tease the warm skin of his throat, and Kurt doesn’t want to think about anything else. He can just be there.
He’s pretty sure he’s smiling against Blaine’s mouth, but it’s still perfect. He keeps his touches loose and light, because a part of him is desperate to grab and hang on, and he doesn’t want to give in. He wants to be in control of every single part of himself. He wants to be able to enjoy it all.
It’s amazing to feel this close, to be welcome in the circle of someone’s arms, to be able to press his fingers against Blaine’s waist and get a shudder and a hard kiss in return. He’s almost afraid to move his hand, because this much is overwhelming. It’s not just how incredible Blaine’s body feels that threatens Kurt’s calm center but also that he can experience it at all. His breath catches, and he forces his hand not to shake where it lies flat on Blaine’s side. He’s wanted this so badly. He’s wanted Blaine so badly. It’s almost too much.
“You can touch me, Kurt; I won’t break,” Blaine breathes in his ear, nuzzling against his cheek.
I might, Kurt thinks as he lets his hand slip up the firm planes of Blaine’s back and feels the world tilt around him with the wonder of it, but he knows it isn’t true. Bullying and loneliness tried their best but couldn’t break him. Joy never will.
*
Kurt realizes very quickly that Blaine likes to be a gentleman. He holds doors, he walks on the inside in the halls or on sidewalks so Kurt doesn’t get jostled by passersby, and he even orders Kurt’s coffee for him at the Lima Bean, though that’s hardly a new development. He wouldn’t be surprised if Blaine tried to hand him out of a car or push an elevator button for him if the opportunity arose. Kurt has always been impressed by Blaine’s manners, so it isn’t really a cause for complaint, except that it’s kind of odd to have someone hold every single door for you. He’s sure it’s weird for girls, too, but he is not a girl. He’d never expected anyone to hold a door for him, at least not all the time, and he’s fairly certain dating hasn’t cost him the use of his arms.
Kurt tries to write it off as one of those somewhat annoying but ultimately charming things that Blaine does, like jumping on furniture or turning straw wrappers into oddly proportioned paper animals. It’s just what Blaine does. He makes faces while singing, he waxes poetic over bubblegum pop, and he opens doors. It is charming. Occasionally it even makes Kurt’s heart flip like it did the first few times with how special it feels that Blaine is making the effort.
Still, despite his best efforts, it also continues to annoy him, especially when if Kurt looks like he’s going to reach the door first Blaine darts ahead like a jackrabbit to open it anyway. It’s supposed to be nice, but it’s actually infuriating. It may even be a little demeaning. He’s not the girl in this relationship, and even if he were female he could get his own damn door. Kurt feels an odd sense of camaraderie with Gloria Steinem.
Taking matters into his own hands, Kurt deliberately tries to put his longer stride to good use to get to doors first, and he nearly gets bowled over for his troubles every time until he gives up on the experiment. Clearly, Blaine is on a mission.
So Kurt endures until one Monday afternoon a couple of weeks into their relationship when he just can’t stand it anymore and stops dead in the path leading up to the library. Blaine, who has already taken a few steps forward to reach for the door, turns back to look at him with concern.
“If you touch that door you’d better be walking through it immediately afterwards,” Kurt tells him.
Blaine blinks at him. “Uh... what?”
“I am perfectly capable of opening my own doors, Blaine.”
“Okay,” Blaine says slowly. He slides his hands into the pockets of his coat and frowns a little. “I never said you weren’t.”
“And yet you open every single one for me like I’ve been in some horrible accident and have had my arms amputated. Yesterday you even pulled one out of my hand. It almost hit me in the face.”
Blaine’s eyes widen in what seems to be a combination of dismay and amusement. The dismay wins out, and he says, “I’m trying to be chivalrous.”
“There’s being chivalrous, and there’s just being annoying.”
“It’s annoying that I hold doors for you?” Blaine asks.
“Most of the time, yes.”
Blaine sighs and looks away out over the quad. “I told you I wasn’t any good at romance,” he says, and Kurt realizes that he’s stumbled into a far deeper discussion than just his frustration over holding doors.
“I have no problems with your romantic abilities,” Kurt tells him more gently.
“Obviously you do.” Blaine gestures with some frustration to the library door ahead of them.
“No, that’s - “ Kurt breaks off and tries to touch closer to the heart of the issue, because if they’re going to do this is should be about the actual topic at hand. “You’re not the only man in this relationship.”
That gets Blaine’s attention; his head snaps back around to Kurt. “What? I know that.”
“And yet your notion of chivalry casts me in the female role. Next you’ll be putting your coat over a puddle or asking to carry my books.”
“Like you’d let me ruin a coat.”
“It depends on the coat; it could be a mercy killing.” Kurt considers what Blaine didn’t say. “You’re not denying the books?”
Blaine scrunches up his face like he’s embarrassed. “I was pretty sure you’d laugh at me if I asked.”
“Why would you want to carry my books?”
“I don’t know. It’s how I was brought up. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”
Kurt levels a flat stare at him. “Blaine. I am also a boyfriend.”
“I know,” Blaine says, clearly confused.
“Did it ever cross your mind that I might like to do some of these things? Maybe I’d like to hold open a door for you?”
Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it again. “I - Oh.”
Blaine looks so sheepish that Kurt can’t help but laugh. “Yes, oh.”
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to be a good boyfriend.”
“I know.” Kurt steps closer, touching Blaine’s arm. The relieved smile he gets in return sends a thrill up his spine. “And you are. But I’m pretty sure that even if I were a girl I’d still be annoyed at being deemed incapable of opening a door for you at least once in a while.”
“So chivalry isn’t dead; it’s equal opportunity?”
“Exactly.”
Blaine smiles even more. “I can do that.”
“Excellent. Although I draw the line at putting my coat over a puddle,” Kurt says as he fusses a little with the drape of his scarf. “That moves from chivalry into insanity.”
Blaine looks down at his feet before meeting Kurt’s eyes again. “So if - I mean, I was thinking about asking you out on a date. A real one, where I make the plans and pick you up and pay and everything. That would still be okay, right?”
Kurt can’t answer for a minute, because his breath is completely gone. His boyfriend wants to take him on an actual date, and not only is this worlds away from his life a mere few weeks ago when did he not expect any of this to happen before he went to college but also - and even more importantly - he has nothing to wear. Then he clears his throat and says, “Only if I get to ask you out, too, for some other day.”
Blaine looks as delighted as Kurt feels, and he immediately nods. “Absolutely.”
“Then that would be fine.” It would be amazing, actually. They get to go on dates. Kurt’s mind begins to sort through a million ideas. Most of them are about wardrobe.
“I think this is going to work out really well,” Blaine says, and Kurt grins back at him, completely in agreement.
“All right. Then let’s get started. May I?” Kurt gestures to the door.
“By all means.”
Kurt enjoys the freedom to walk to the door and open it without the fear of being knocked over, and he holds it while Blaine walks through. Blaine smiles at him over his shoulder, and Kurt’s heart flips in reply.
Oh, yes, this is going to work out really well.
*
“And then Mr. Schue split the part in two and gave half the lines to Rachel on top of the ones she already had,” Tina says with a sigh as she sinks into her seat across from Kurt as they take a table at the Lima Bean. “I’m really tired of having to fight for every solo.”
“At least you get a solo from time to time, unlike others of us,” Kurt says, raising his eyebrow pointedly at Blaine.
Blaine nudges his arm. “Hey, we had a duet. At Regionals and everything.”
Kurt can’t help but smile at him, but he says to Tina, “I know how you feel. Mr. Schue’s methods are illogical at best. Just keep fighting, because you know Rachel will.”
“I will,” she replies.
“What about you?” Blaine asks Mike.
“What about me what?” Mike asks.
“Do you have to fight for solos against Finn and Sam?”
Mike shakes his head, his eyes going wide. He picks up his cup like he can hide behind it. “I don’t want a solo.”
“You don’t want a solo?” Blaine tries out the words as though they were in a foreign language. Kurt supposes in Blaine’s world they are, not that Kurt doesn’t want every solo, too.
“Mike doesn’t really like to sing,” Tina tells him. “He doesn’t think he can.”
“I can’t,” Mike says.
“Yes, you can,” Tina says.
“Everybody can sing,” Blaine insists.
Mike shakes his head again. “No, it’s okay. I’m happy dancing.”
Blaine sets down his coffee and rests his arms on the table, leaning forward toward Mike. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he says. “I know there is some amazing talent in New Directions, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hold your own. I’ve seen you dance, Mike. You have the rhythm and musical aptitude in your bones. You can sing. You just don’t know it.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Tina says.
“I - “ Mike begins.
“Trust me,” Blaine says in his mentor voice, and Kurt laughs under his breath and turns away from them and toward Tina.
“By the time we go home Mike will be as big of a solo hog as Rachel,” Kurt says to her. “Blaine’s on a mission.”
Tina watches Blaine give his earnest and impassioned speech for a minute or two and then says, “It’s kind of nice of him.”
Kurt shrugs, though he does have to agree. Blaine might be misguided about it sometimes, but he does seem to want to bring out the best in people. “Only because Mike won’t be taking his solos.”
Tina laughs. “He’s not that bad.”
“You have no idea. He can throw a hissy fit that puts Rachel to shame. Yelling, swearing, breaking things. Once he even got a hair out of place.” He smiles fondly at Blaine, who is entirely unaware of how he is being maligned.
“I don’t believe you,” Tina says.
Kurt sips at his coffee and makes himself look away from Blaine’s handsome profile. “I knew the hair comment was a step too far. No, he’s not a drama queen. He just manages to wrap people around his little finger to give him everything he wants.” Even me, he thinks.
Reaching across to touch Kurt’s hand, Tina says softly, “I like him, Kurt.” She squeezes a little, like she’s trying to encourage him.
He tries not to look as startled as he feels. He has certainly vented to his friends from time to time over the months about the ups and downs of their friendship and non-relationship, but he hasn’t really expected their approval of any of it. He knows they support him, but he hadn’t considered they’d support them. He doesn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him. It feels surprisingly good.
Kurt glances over at Blaine, who is still sitting forward in his seat, his eyes fixed firmly on Mike’s face as they talk. His leg, however, is pressed from ankle to knee against Kurt’s under the table. He seems wholly focused on Mike and the matter at hand, but some part of him is still Kurt’s beneath it all.
“I do, too,” Kurt admits just as quietly.
Tina squeezes his hand again and smiles at him, her whole face lighting up, and Kurt finds himself smiling back.
*
Kurt is amazed to learn that Blaine likes to be kissed. Not that Kurt doesn’t like kissing, because with the right person it turns out there’s very little not to like, but Blaine really likes it. Maybe Kurt should have figured that out by how much Blaine had enjoyed making out with Rachel while drunk, but it’s one thing to watch it and another thing to experience it as the other person in the couple. Blaine sinks into it and seems content to spend hours exploring Kurt’s mouth. He holds Kurt close and breathes out these amazing soft moans against his lips, but mostly he just kisses and kisses until their mouths are sore with it, and yet they don’t stop until they’re forced to.
Obviously, Kurt is very okay with this plan, except that kissing isn’t enough. He wouldn’t consider himself starved for touch per se, but being near Blaine is very different from hugging his dad or curling up beside Mercedes on her bed while they watch movies. Kurt wants to touch more than his mouth. Not only is it Blaine, which engenders all sorts of new feelings, but Blaine likes it when Kurt touches him and seems more than happy to let Kurt do whatever he wants. It’s this heady freedom, a level of trust and want that Kurt has never had directed at him before. It’s thrilling. It’s intoxicating. It drives him just a little bit crazy with the power he holds in his hands. So Kurt takes every opportunity he can to touch Blaine’s hair, kiss his throat, and flick open a few buttons on his shirt to nuzzle into the warmth trapped there. He cups Blaine’s jaw and traces along the line of his hair. He runs his hands up Blaine’s arms and down his chest. He presses his fingers into Blaine’s back to feel the muscles flex beneath them. He does it because he loves it. He does it because he loves it and he can.
It’s not that Blaine doesn’t reciprocate, because he’s a very willing participant, but he doesn’t push. He keeps his hands respectful as they rove and gives Kurt the chance to do what he likes. Kurt doesn’t mind at all, since he can tell by the way Blaine comes alive with it that that he also is more than happy with every bit of Kurt’s attention.
It isn’t usually until they’re both already breathless that Blaine intensifies things, himself, like Sunday afternoon in Kurt’s bed while his parents are out for a little while, when Blaine finally rolls halfway on top of him and pins him to the mattress, which is just as good in an entirely different way for Kurt. Blaine is solid and strong, and Kurt is dizzy with how good Blaine’s weight feels against his chest and how warm his mouth his beneath Kurt’s ear. He wonders how he lived before he felt these things, though maybe he really wasn’t living after all. It’s not just the physical sensations, though they are definitely amazing, but it’s also that Blaine wants him. Blaine wants Kurt to touch him, and he wants to touch right back. It makes Kurt’s heart fill with joy and rise into his throat, and he can barely draw a breath around it.
So of course Blaine ruins the moment in an instant by tugging at Kurt’s collar and saying, “I hate your clothes.”
Kurt is off the bed before he can blink. He stares at Blaine and feels like he might be violently ill.
Blaine rolls onto his elbow and gapes at him, his eyes dark and glassy. “Hey!” He reaches out toward Kurt, but Kurt takes another step back.
“What?” Trying to breathe, Kurt tells himself that he must have mis-heard, except that he knows he didn’t. He’ll probably replay those horrible words in his nightmares for years. It’s an insult. It’s a betrayal. It’s a rejection of him and nearly everything he holds dear.
“What?” Blaine asks.
“You hate my clothes?” Kurt blinks back tears. He is not going to cry over this. He isn’t. If he has so greatly misjudged Blaine, then he doesn’t deserve Kurt’s tears. He deserves Kurt’s pity, because he clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about and will be mired in uninspired mall trends for the rest of his life. His long, long life without Kurt in it.
“Yes. No. No!” Blaine sits up and looks around Kurt’s room like he’s trying to remember where he is. He takes a shuddering breath and continues, “No, I do not hate your clothes. I love how you dress.” He gestures at Kurt’s outfit, which is, as always, spectacular. “Your style is impeccable and perfectly you.”
“Then why would you say something so awful?” Kurt asks, because swift backtracking doesn’t change what Blaine said before.
“I wasn’t thinking,” Blaine tells him, looking a little desperate. “I didn’t mean it like that. Really, Kurt.”
Kurt crosses his arms over his chest. “How did you mean it?”
Blaine rises slowly from the bed and walks over to him. “I love your clothes,” he says more softly, trailing a tentative finger down the side of Kurt’s throat. It feels amazing, but Kurt doesn’t let it sway him. There are more important issues here. “What I don’t like is being chaperoned by your bow tie.” Blaine taps it. Kurt can feel it go just slightly askew, and he reaches up to straighten it.
Blaine captures his hand and says earnestly, “I’m not trying to rush you or pressure you or go faster than either of us wants. But it might be nice, at least from my point of view, if I could catch even a glimpse of your collarbone.”
Kurt brings his other hand up to his chest, covering the area in question hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt. “I just wanted to look good.” He’d spent twenty minutes that morning simply picking out the perfect tie to go with his shirt, and even his socks complement the accent tones in his them. Not that he’s taken off his boots, but these are important details. Blaine sees him so much in his Dalton uniform that it is even more vital that every bit of his outfit be perfect when he is able to wear something other than a navy blazer.
“You do,” Blaine insists. “You always do.” His eyes are fixed on Kurt’s face as he slides his hand along Kurt’s arm to his cuff. Slowly, he slips free Kurt’s cuff link, one of the vintage pair he picked up last week. The abstract initials hidden in their art deco design are K and B, and Kurt bought a French cuff shirt specifically so he could wear them, not that Blaine knows any of that. It’s the sort of flight of sartorial fancy that Kurt isn’t quite sure he should share. He watches as Blaine places the cuff link carefully on the bedside table, and Kurt makes sure it’s not in any danger of getting knocked off and lost before looking back at Blaine’s hand.
“But I’m not ashamed of saying I like seeing you,” Blaine continues. “I like touching you.”
Blaine’s fingers are warm against his skin and calloused in a way that makes their drag go right through Kurt’s veins to vibrate through the rest of his body. “I hadn’t even thought about that,” Kurt says. He’s never considered his clothing as a barrier, at least not in the sense that it could be problematic. But then he’s never had anyone who was interested in what was beneath. He feels the world shift beneath him, the foundations of his life being remade.
Blaine slides two fingers inside Kurt’s cuff, sending shivers up his arm. “Is this okay?“
Kurt gives him a shaky nod and watches Blaine’s eyes go even darker.
“How about this?” Blaine slides Kurt’s sleeve up a little and waits with his mouth hovering just above the bend of Kurt’s arm. His breath makes the hair on Kurt’s arms stand on end, and his eyes are full of questions.
Kurt may utterly captivated by Blaine, but he isn’t going to admit it that easily. He jerks his chin up and says as haughtily as he can manage, “Let’s try it and see.”
Blaine grins up at him as he presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to Kurt’s skin between the wings of his cuff, and the gentle intimacy of his dark head bent over his arm is enough to make Kurt’s heart ache. He drinks in the sensation of Blaine’s mouth moving over him, and when he feels like he’s going to burst with it he pushes Blaine back on the bed and tastes Blaine’s laughter for himself. And Blaine lets him. Blaine lets him.
*
Kurt inspects the sweep of his hair for the third time in the visor mirror before snapping it closed and telling himself he’s being foolish. He’s put together thousands of outfits for himself and for other people, and he’s brilliant at it. Just because this one has a slightly different goal doesn’t mean that it isn’t perfect. His shirt is tailored superbly, its sleeves ending just above the elbow. It doesn’t need a tie to be impeccable.
Still, although he’s always dressed to attract attention, this is a whole new kind of attention he hasn’t really wanted before, or at least hasn’t quite felt safe wanting. Now, with Blaine, he does. He wants to get it right.
Minutes are passing by as he sits in his car and fidgets with the set of his collar; he’s only going to be later the longer he stalls. So he gets out of the car and walks into the Lima Bean with as much confidence as he can fake; he knows Blaine will be there waiting for him, and he needs to project the right image.
Blaine’s fiddling with his phone in the corner, two cups of coffee waiting on the table in front of him, and his eyes go wide when he sees Kurt across the room. He fumbles his phone into his pocket as he takes Kurt in from head to toe, and the bounce in Kurt’s step suddenly feels a lot less forced.
“You are incredible,” Blaine tells him, stretching out his hand to take Kurt’s even before he’s seated. There’s a rough edge to his voice that’s usually only there after he’s been kissing Kurt for a while, and he holds Kurt’s hand just a little too tightly.
He looks bowled over, and Kurt searches his eyes for any pretense, because he thought it was a good outfit, but then he also likes his vests and bow ties. Blaine appears to be telling the truth, though, if the way his eyes linger on Kurt’s arms and the hollow of his throat are any indication. Kurt’s not sure Blaine is actually blinking.
Oh. Kurt relaxes back in his chair with no small measure of relief and a fair bit of pride. He chose well. Very well.
“I’m a fast learner,” he says, feeling pleased with himself. It’s a whole new world here, dressing for a boyfriend and not just for himself. Not that he’s going to wear anything he doesn’t want to, but now he has yet another way to express himself through clothing... and a new way to get a reaction from Blaine.
Blaine swallows hard but doesn’t seem to be able to look away. “You definitely are.”
Blaine is in so much trouble, Kurt realizes. It’s thrilling. Kurt can’t wait.
On to part two.
I've been sitting on about 85% of this fic in some form or another for months now, determined to make it fit into the same format as Sum, but I really should have known that Kurt doesn't play by anyone's rules but his own. Sum is the story of Blaine and Kurt's early romantic relationship set in five stages (and thus parts) told through important extracanonical moments as judged by Blaine. Kurt has a different journey, a different perspective, and thus a different format and ending point.
Title: “The Other Half of the Equation”
Author: flaming muse
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 18,000
Summary: Blaine turns Kurt’s life upside-down over a tiny, bejeweled coffin. Scenes of two boys in love.
Spoilers: starts during 2x16 (“Original Song”) and ends during 2x18 (“Born This Way”)
Notes: This is a companion piece to “Than the Sum of its Parts” and deliberately parallels a few of the same scenes from Kurt’s POV as well as adding many others, though the format and breadth of this fic is quite different than Sum because Kurt’s story is his own. Both fics are entirely canon-compliant for season two, and they can be read independently of each other. If you are going to read them both, I recommend Sum first, if only because I wrote it first.
Unending thanks, as always, to stoney321 for putting up with me, for making me laugh, and for talking good sense, sometimes all at once!
Disclaimers: The characters belong to various corporate Powers That Be. I make absolutely no profit from playing with them.
Distribution: Please ask.
Feedback is lovely!
This fic is now a podfic!
Kurt arrives early at Dalton on the morning after he starts dating Blaine.
It’s not that he means to arrive early, but he woke well before his alarm, despite having been up late texting with Blaine about absolutely nothing but neither of them being able to stop, and once he was awake he couldn’t get back to sleep with all of the butterflies in his stomach. He lay in bed and was delighted and a little bit shocked to find that his memories of kissing Blaine were not from a dream, but thinking about the kisses made his heart pound with remembered desire and, even more, nerves about seeing Blaine again. Yesterday had been amazing, but that was yesterday. He has no idea what today will be. So he had gotten up, taken even more care than usual over his hair and uniform, and had finally left the house in order to avoid the questions starting to form in his father’s eyes as Kurt had jittered around the kitchen.
All of that means that Kurt is early to school, and as he pulls into the day student parking lot he takes a deep breath and tells himself to be calm. Nothing has really changed. Sure, he and Blaine kissed, and they’re in a relationship, a romantic relationship, but it isn’t like they didn’t spend most of their free time together, anyway. They’ll see each other around school, sit beside each other at lunch, practice their duet for Regionals (and this time actually sing), and do all of the things they were already doing before yesterday when Blaine turned Kurt’s life upside-down over a tiny, bejeweled coffin.
Nothing outwardly is going to change. They’re at school, and if the school is Dalton and not McKinley there are still other people around most of the time. Kurt knows he can’t expect more than a little extra attention from Blaine... and possibly an ill-timed and poorly chosen serenade, but it’s not like Blaine hasn’t always focused on him more than he should with the Warblers, anyway. They’re dating, and he knows they aren’t going to hide it here, but he thinks it’s going to look almost exactly the same to everyone else. It’s fine with him; it’s not like they’d turn into one of those stupid PDA-crazy couples even if they could.
Kurt pulls into a parking space, smiling to himself, and freezes with his hand on the ignition when he sees a familiar figure leaning against a tree by the path up to campus. From this distance it could be any dark-haired boy in a Dalton uniform, but Kurt would know Blaine anywhere.
Blaine hasn’t met him at his car in the morning since Kurt’s first day at Dalton, back when Blaine always seemed to need to guide him and shape him into something Kurt just isn’t. Kurt’s heart leaps into his throat at the memory of feeling like he couldn’t measure up here, either, and even as his pulse skitters at seeing Blaine, he tells himself firmly that if for some reason Blaine has decided overnight he’s made a mistake he will be okay. It wouldn’t be the first time Blaine hasn’t wanted him as more than a friend, and even if he loses the friendship, too, he will be fine.
Drawing himself up straight, Kurt refuses to rush as he shuts off the car, unplugs and stows his iPod in his bag, and gets out. He slings his bag over his shoulder and locks the door before turning toward the path and the boy standing there. He will be fine.
Still, he feels a dizzy rush of relief when he gets close enough to see the smile on Blaine’s face, bright and excited to see him. Kurt quickens his pace without conscious thought, and Blaine pushes off from the tree and waits for him at the bottom of the path.
“Hi, Kurt,” he says, holding out a paper travel cup when Kurt walks over. “This is for you.”
“Good morning.” Kurt smiles at the gesture and takes it. “Thank you.”
“It’s just coffee from the dining hall,” Blaine says with a shrug of apology. “And it might be a little cold.”
Kurt takes a sip, and it is far from hot and yet nowhere near cold enough to fall into the acceptable temperature range for iced coffee. “How long have you been out here?” he asks before he can stop himself.
Blaine laughs self-consciously and looks away over the parking lot. “A while,” he admits. “I woke up early.”
“I did, too.”
At that, Blaine focuses back on him, his eyes searching Kurt’s face before he breaks out into another wide smile. “Any particular reason?” he asks.
“Oh, no,” Kurt replies loftily, because although he may be head-over-heels for Blaine he doesn’t have to admit it just because Blaine’s adorable but quite obviously fishing. “Maybe it’s a full moon.”
Blaine’s eyes crinkle with amusement, but he simply nods and says, “Yeah, that must be it. A full moon. That would explain why Thad looked so hairy last night, too. Huh.”
Kurt tries to hide his smile, but he can’t. Blaine is beyond ridiculous, and yet Kurt can’t get enough of him. That’s always been true for Kurt, and it’s apparently a thousand times worse today than it was even the day before. He takes another sip of coffee to give himself something to do, and he grimaces at the lukewarm bitterness of it.
“Is it really that bad?” Blaine asks.
“I’m sorry, but yes.”
“Next time I’ll have to time things better,” Blaine says, and Kurt’s thoughts skip at the thought of next time. Next time his boyfriend comes to meet him at his car in the morning. “Come on. Let’s go get some hot coffee before assembly.”
Since what he has to drink is hardly appealing, Kurt nods and adjusts his bag on his shoulder; despite all of the extra smiling, this feels normal. They get coffee. They sit together at assembly. They walk each other to class sometimes. It’s just the same.
Then as they fall into step beside each other, Blaine reaches out and runs his hand down Kurt’s back, his hand lingering for a moment at Kurt’s waist. Kurt can’t help but startle a little, because it’s just not the sort of thing he’s used to, but it’s a gentle touch, and he can feel it like it’s against his skin despite the layers of overcoat and uniform in between. His skin prickles. His face flushes. His heart begins to pound. He takes a steadying breath, and when he looks over Blaine is watching him with happy, open affection. It is similar to and yet absolutely nothing like how Blaine used to touch and look at him.
Oh, thinks Kurt weakly and with a thrill deep in his stomach as he walks beside Blaine toward the dining hall. Everything has changed.
*
The next day, Kurt’s French class is cancelled, and he is looking for a quiet place to finish up his reading for History when he hears music coming out of the common room. It’s Chopin, one of the Impromptus, and by the way it stops and repeats from time to time it is obviously being played live on the piano. He stops and listens outside the doorway; he performed this particular piece in a recital in middle school, and he’s still fond of it.
As the piece nears its finish, Kurt dares to peek inside to see who is playing, and he’s shocked to find that the person bent over the keys and coaxing out the music is Blaine. It’s Blaine. His heart flips at seeing that familiar and welcome profile so unexpectedly.
Blaine manages to get to the end without incident, and he jerks in surprise and spins around on the piano bench when Kurt applauds politely from the doorway.
“Hi, Kurt,” Blaine says with the smile that Kurt has already identified as just for him.
“I didn’t know you had any classical training,” Kurt says, taking a few steps into the room. “Quite a departure from Katy Perry.”
“I’ll have you know Chopin was the Katy Perry of the Romantic period,” Blaine replies with an earnest lift of his eyebrows.
Kurt grins and shakes his head at the absurdity of it. God, he’s in so deep already. “I’m not sure that’s the accepted view of musical history.”
“Close enough,” Blaine says. He twists sideways on the bench and runs through a few scales. “Anyway, I like to play the classics now and then. I don’t want to get too rusty.”
“Well,” Kurt says, keeping his hands on the strap of his bag because otherwise he’s going to have to walk over and put them on Blaine’s shoulders to feel the flex of his muscles as he plays, “I don’t mean to interrupt you.”
Blaine glances up from his hands. “You aren’t. I mean, you sort of are, but I’m happy to see you. I didn’t think you had a free period now.”
“Madame Faust is out, and I need to finish my reading for History since someone kept me up talking last night instead of letting me do my homework.”
“I’ll have to talk to Finn about that.”
“Oh, yes, Finn. You know how he is; what a chatterbox, always sharing his every thought and feeling.”
“Who else could it be?” Blaine grins at him, his eyes sparkling, and it would be so easy for Kurt to drop his bag and fall into the teasing. It’s always been wonderful to spend time with Blaine, and now it has a whole new rush of excitement. It makes Kurt feel lighter just thinking about it, like he’s on a swiftly descending elevator.
It would be so very easy, so Kurt forces himself to weigh the appeal of spending this unexpected time with Blaine against his teacher’s temper when students don’t do the assigned work, and he sighs a little. “I really need to do this reading,” he apologizes.
Blaine immediately turns serious, and he says, “No, you should. I’m sorry. School comes first.”
“And you’re practicing, anyway.”
“Yeah.” Blaine touches a few keys without pressing them.
“So I’ll leave you to it?” Kurt takes a step back toward the doors, though it’s the last thing he wants to do. He knows he should, though. He needs to be smart. He can’t lose his head entirely; that way lies madness and the potential for having to transfer yet again, this time due to a restraining order against him for stalking.
“Wait,” Blaine says. “Would my playing bother you? I could struggle through some more Chopin, and you could do your reading here?”
Kurt beams at the suggestion, and he’s filled with relief that he doesn’t have to go anywhere else. So much for not losing his head. “That would be perfect.”
Blaine’s smile in reply is just as bright. “Okay, let’s do that.”
Kurt sits on one of the comfortable leather couches and pulls out his book as Blaine flips through the score and settles back in front of the keys. With a last glance over his shoulder at Kurt, Blaine starts to play, and Kurt can’t help but watch him. Even as he fumbles here and there, his fingers are mesmerizing as they flash over the instrument, and his back is strong and perfect beneath his blazer. Kurt drinks him in for a few minutes, and then he turns to his own work with the music soft in his ears. Somehow he actually reads.
By the time the period is over, Kurt is finished with his reading (or is close enough to fake it), and Blaine’s making no obvious mistakes as he plays. A distant cacophony of feet and voices alerts them that it’s time for the next class, and Blaine rushes through the final stanzas in double time to finish the piece.
“I think you need to work on your tempo at the end there,” Kurt says as he puts his book away and stands up. “Have you considered a metronome?”
Laughing, Blaine turns on the bench and comes over to him. “Everyone’s a critic.”
“Maybe, but I’m actually right.”
Blaine reaches out for his hand, and Kurt’s heart begins to race against his wishes; he’s supposed to be able to stay calm when he wants to. “That was nice,” Blaine says softly, tugging him closer.
“Me criticizing you?” Kurt is aware of the voices in the hallway getting louder, but Blaine’s eyes are pulling him in as strongly as his hand.
“I meant having you here with me while I was playing.”
“It didn’t make you self-conscious?”
“Only in a good way; I wanted to get it right so it wouldn’t hurt your ears,” Blaine replies. “And did you get your reading done?” His eyes drop for a moment to Kurt’s mouth and then flick back up to search Kurt’s eyes.
Kurt nods, suddenly unable to form words. They’re in a public room, and the door is partially open, but just like the first time Blaine kissed him Kurt finds it difficult to care.
“Okay, then we both get a reward for being good.” Moving slowly, Blaine cups Kurt’s cheek and brings their mouths together, and Kurt leans into it without hesitation, anchoring his own hand on Blaine’s lapel. He could lose himself in the faintly coffee-tinged taste of Blaine’s mouth, still so new and yet already so familiar. It’s nothing like Brittany’s lip gloss-flavored kisses; for one, it sends a heat through him that leaves him happily shaken to his core. And it’s Blaine, so it’s both exciting and easy all at once. It feels amazing. It feels right.
Then there’s a shout of laughter far down the hall, and Kurt can’t help but stiffen in Blaine’s arms.
Blaine pulls back, his eyebrows drawn together. “Are you okay?”
“I’m wonderful,” Kurt rushes to assure him.
“Are you sure?”
Kurt nods and glances at the door. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”
“It’s okay, Kurt. Nobody’s going to bother us,” Blaine tells him. “Well, they might bother us, but they won’t care.”
There’s another laugh outside, but this time Kurt keeps his reaction to himself. “I know. It just may take me a little while to get used to it.”
Blaine smiles broadly at him before schooling his expression to something sort of resembling serious. “I know just how to help with that,” he says and kisses Kurt again. This time it’s a lot less gentle, and Kurt’s the one who gets his fingers on Blaine’s jaw and in the hair at the nape of his neck and holds him in place. Blaine makes this little sound deep in his throat and kisses him harder, and Kurt’s head spins with it. He made Blaine do that.
Kurt’s dizzy by the time they pull back; Blaine looks about as amazed as he feels, his eyes dark as they rove over Kurt’s face. A marching band could walk through and Kurt wouldn’t care.
“Oh, yes,” Kurt says faintly. “That will work.”
*
The next Thursday’s Warblers practice is more fractious than usual; they’re all stressed by their schoolwork, and Wes’ suggestion that they consider preparing for Nationals (despite not actually qualifying for it) to tighten up their discipline goes over very poorly. Kurt sips his hand into his bag to find his cell phone to be able dial 911 as Trent turns a disturbing shade of purple in his near apoplexy at the idea. Fortunately no medical intercession is necessary.
The Council is forced to make all sorts of apologies to settle the room, and somehow Blaine gets yet another solo out of it, for what reason Kurt isn’t sure. Given the exciting nursing home performance schedule ahead of them it’s not like they particularly need new material.
Blaine is still arguing the relative merits of Jennifer Lopez and Kelly Rowland with David and Thad by the table as the meeting breaks up and Kurt gathers up his things. He straightens the lapels of his blazer, considers the passion of Blaine's argument for a moment, and decides that they could be there all night.
He lays his hand gently on Blaine’s shoulder and is proud that his stomach only tightens a little from touching him, not enough to call attention to his reaction. “Excuse me,” he says to the group and then addresses Blaine directly. “I’m going to go. Call me later.”
Kurt expects Blaine to agree and send him on his way, but instead Blaine says, “No, wait,” and holds out his hand, palm up to Kurt. Kurt stares at it for a moment. The room is filled with Warblers, Blaine’s in the middle of a conversation about one of his passions, and yet he is just standing there, his hand outstretched, waiting for Kurt. His expression starts out hopeful but begins to shift into something approaching hurt as Kurt continues to stare, aware of all of the eyes on them.
Slowly Kurt places his hand in Blaine’s, not quite sure what’s going on or why but unable to resist the request, and Blaine relaxes back into a smile and turns back to David and Thad.
“I’m just saying, there’s a reason that J. Lo is a superstar, but it takes more guts to try to go out on your own when it seems like one of your former group-mates is automatically going to overshadow you,” Blaine says. “I think we should do Kelly.”
“J. Lo has broader appeal,” David says.
“We could do a medley,” Thad suggests.
“A medley of J. Lo,” David says more firmly.
Thad rolls his eyes. “You just think she’s hot.”
His shoulders tensing, Blaine draws a breath to argue, and Kurt glances surreptitiously at the time on his phone. He has a pile of reading to do tonight. He wonders how long he’ll have to stand here tethered to Blaine’s hand like his favorite puppy before he can go. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow,” Blaine says instead of continuing the discussion.
Kurt blinks in surprise.
“But - “ David starts.
“I’m walking Kurt to his car,” Blaine says, and though that earns him a lift of David’s eyebrows and a smirk from Thad he just squeezes Kurt’s hand and leads him from the room.
“You didn’t have to leave,” Kurt says once they’re out in the quad. “I’m perfectly capable of walking to my own car.”
Blaine laughs. “I know, but I like to. It’s one of my favorite times of the day.”
“You like saying goodbye to me?” Kurt asks.
“No,” Blaine says gently, shaking his head like Kurt’s missing something very, very obvious. “I like having you with me for five more minutes.”
As a statement it’s bordering on both sappy and dorky, and yet Kurt can feel himself flushing a little with his delight. He hangs onto Blaine’s hand and doesn’t let go even when he leans in and kisses Blaine beside his car for quite a bit longer than just five minutes.
*
Kurt hadn’t thought it was possible to see Blaine more than he had before they were dating, but now it seems like he is everywhere. He is waiting at the parking lot in the morning, leaning by the door to Kurt’s classes, sitting by his side during free periods and lunch, dancing around him during Warblers practice, and waving goodbye after he walks Kurt to his car at the end of the day.
It’s not that Kurt is complaining, because he loves to see Blaine, but it does make it hard for him to go through his days without feeling a little overwhelmed. It’s always been true, but it’s so much worse now than it used to be. Being with Blaine is a bit like staring into the sun, only without the danger of retina-burn and premature wrinkles from sun-damaged skin; he’s the brightest thing in Kurt’s life, and when he and Blaine part it leaves Blaine-shaped spots in Kurt’s eyes for a while before he readjusts to the normal light of the world. Then just as he gets back into the rhythm of being without him Blaine pops up again, unexpectedly showing up at his side in the library or on the landing above him in a back stairwell and throwing everything else back into shadow. Kurt doesn’t mind, but he’s been so used to traversing his life largely on his own and without bright lights and giddy flips of his stomach that it’s distracting and unsettling.
Still, if Kurt occasionally takes the long way around the library to get to class to prove to himself that he can, mostly he gives into his desires to see Blaine and lets himself bask in his glow. Why wouldn’t he? He has a boyfriend, and it’s not just any boyfriend but Blaine, who is charming, funny, talented, gentle, attentive, and at times endearingly dorky. Blaine is the sort of person who has people falling at his feet - or he would if he could pick better songs for serenades and better objects for them - but he likes Kurt. It is completely and utterly bask-worthy.
So when Blaine is out in the hallway chatting with one of the teachers when Kurt comes out of his last class of the day, Kurt just smiles at him and waits with some amusement for Blaine to be finished charming the socks off of her.
“Hi,” Kurt says when Blaine walks over.
“Hey. How was class?” Blaine asks. They fall into step next to each other as they head toward the outer doors.
“Informative,” Kurt says, because there are teachers around. “And your free period?”
“Boring.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, and Blaine grins.
“Fine, it was great. Jeff and I played frisbee on the quad.”
“I’m sorry I missed that,” Kurt says dryly, though there’s something very appealing about the thought of watching Blaine running around in his shirtsleeves.
“Anyway, my roommate has an away game this afternoon, so I thought I’d see if you wanted to come hang out,” Blaine says casually, like having an hour alone in his dorm room before practice isn’t pretty much their biggest wish these days.
Kurt wants to be the kind of coy flirt who can keep his boyfriend waiting hopefully at arm’s distance for a bit of attention, but he’s learned very quickly that he is not that person or can’t be for more than a minute at a time. Instead he says, “Okay,” and tries not to grin too much.
Blaine takes his hand and smiles right back as he leads them to his dorm.
They don’t even pretend that they’re going to do anything but make out; Blaine’s toeing off his shoes before the door is even closed, and he sheds his blazer, too, while Kurt is setting down his bag. Then Blaine’s arms are around Kurt and pulling him onto the bed.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Blaine says softly when they’re arranged on their sides next to each other.
This is still so new that Kurt can barely get enough air to reply. He’s sat beside Blaine on his bed many times over the past months while studying together, watching a movie, or just talking, but this closeness of lying beside each other, their bodies inches apart and their breath mingling, is entirely different.
Blaine looks at him for a minute, tracing the corner of Kurt’s mouth with his thumb and staring into his eyes. As wonderful as it is, Kurt also feels unpleasantly exposed. He trusts that Blaine will be careful with whatever he sees, but Kurt knows the strength of his own feelings for Blaine, has known them for so long now, and he doesn’t know what he’s giving away. He’s not used to that.
The drag of Blaine’s thumb of his lip makes Kurt ache, not just physically but more than that. It makes him feel, and it’s wonderful and dangerous all at once. He needs something else, something to anchor him, something to make him feel less like he’s standing on the edge of a precipice, something to make things make sense. “Blaine, kiss me,” he whispers. He could close the distance, himself, but the inches feel like miles.
“In a minute.”
“Now,” Kurt tells him as sternly as he can, because he’s going to start trembling in a minute, and it’s going to make Blaine ask him questions instead of just kissing him. “Or I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”
“Or your own lips? We can’t have that.” Blaine’s mouth lifts into a smile, and then he leans in and is finally where Kurt needs him to be. The kiss eases the sharp edges of his nerves and gives him something much better to focus on. There’s nothing to worry about when kissing Blaine, because nothing else matters. It’s such a cliche, but it’s still true, because Blaine kisses and kisses him, making these incredible noises when their tongues touch or Kurt’s fingers tease the warm skin of his throat, and Kurt doesn’t want to think about anything else. He can just be there.
He’s pretty sure he’s smiling against Blaine’s mouth, but it’s still perfect. He keeps his touches loose and light, because a part of him is desperate to grab and hang on, and he doesn’t want to give in. He wants to be in control of every single part of himself. He wants to be able to enjoy it all.
It’s amazing to feel this close, to be welcome in the circle of someone’s arms, to be able to press his fingers against Blaine’s waist and get a shudder and a hard kiss in return. He’s almost afraid to move his hand, because this much is overwhelming. It’s not just how incredible Blaine’s body feels that threatens Kurt’s calm center but also that he can experience it at all. His breath catches, and he forces his hand not to shake where it lies flat on Blaine’s side. He’s wanted this so badly. He’s wanted Blaine so badly. It’s almost too much.
“You can touch me, Kurt; I won’t break,” Blaine breathes in his ear, nuzzling against his cheek.
I might, Kurt thinks as he lets his hand slip up the firm planes of Blaine’s back and feels the world tilt around him with the wonder of it, but he knows it isn’t true. Bullying and loneliness tried their best but couldn’t break him. Joy never will.
*
Kurt realizes very quickly that Blaine likes to be a gentleman. He holds doors, he walks on the inside in the halls or on sidewalks so Kurt doesn’t get jostled by passersby, and he even orders Kurt’s coffee for him at the Lima Bean, though that’s hardly a new development. He wouldn’t be surprised if Blaine tried to hand him out of a car or push an elevator button for him if the opportunity arose. Kurt has always been impressed by Blaine’s manners, so it isn’t really a cause for complaint, except that it’s kind of odd to have someone hold every single door for you. He’s sure it’s weird for girls, too, but he is not a girl. He’d never expected anyone to hold a door for him, at least not all the time, and he’s fairly certain dating hasn’t cost him the use of his arms.
Kurt tries to write it off as one of those somewhat annoying but ultimately charming things that Blaine does, like jumping on furniture or turning straw wrappers into oddly proportioned paper animals. It’s just what Blaine does. He makes faces while singing, he waxes poetic over bubblegum pop, and he opens doors. It is charming. Occasionally it even makes Kurt’s heart flip like it did the first few times with how special it feels that Blaine is making the effort.
Still, despite his best efforts, it also continues to annoy him, especially when if Kurt looks like he’s going to reach the door first Blaine darts ahead like a jackrabbit to open it anyway. It’s supposed to be nice, but it’s actually infuriating. It may even be a little demeaning. He’s not the girl in this relationship, and even if he were female he could get his own damn door. Kurt feels an odd sense of camaraderie with Gloria Steinem.
Taking matters into his own hands, Kurt deliberately tries to put his longer stride to good use to get to doors first, and he nearly gets bowled over for his troubles every time until he gives up on the experiment. Clearly, Blaine is on a mission.
So Kurt endures until one Monday afternoon a couple of weeks into their relationship when he just can’t stand it anymore and stops dead in the path leading up to the library. Blaine, who has already taken a few steps forward to reach for the door, turns back to look at him with concern.
“If you touch that door you’d better be walking through it immediately afterwards,” Kurt tells him.
Blaine blinks at him. “Uh... what?”
“I am perfectly capable of opening my own doors, Blaine.”
“Okay,” Blaine says slowly. He slides his hands into the pockets of his coat and frowns a little. “I never said you weren’t.”
“And yet you open every single one for me like I’ve been in some horrible accident and have had my arms amputated. Yesterday you even pulled one out of my hand. It almost hit me in the face.”
Blaine’s eyes widen in what seems to be a combination of dismay and amusement. The dismay wins out, and he says, “I’m trying to be chivalrous.”
“There’s being chivalrous, and there’s just being annoying.”
“It’s annoying that I hold doors for you?” Blaine asks.
“Most of the time, yes.”
Blaine sighs and looks away out over the quad. “I told you I wasn’t any good at romance,” he says, and Kurt realizes that he’s stumbled into a far deeper discussion than just his frustration over holding doors.
“I have no problems with your romantic abilities,” Kurt tells him more gently.
“Obviously you do.” Blaine gestures with some frustration to the library door ahead of them.
“No, that’s - “ Kurt breaks off and tries to touch closer to the heart of the issue, because if they’re going to do this is should be about the actual topic at hand. “You’re not the only man in this relationship.”
That gets Blaine’s attention; his head snaps back around to Kurt. “What? I know that.”
“And yet your notion of chivalry casts me in the female role. Next you’ll be putting your coat over a puddle or asking to carry my books.”
“Like you’d let me ruin a coat.”
“It depends on the coat; it could be a mercy killing.” Kurt considers what Blaine didn’t say. “You’re not denying the books?”
Blaine scrunches up his face like he’s embarrassed. “I was pretty sure you’d laugh at me if I asked.”
“Why would you want to carry my books?”
“I don’t know. It’s how I was brought up. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”
Kurt levels a flat stare at him. “Blaine. I am also a boyfriend.”
“I know,” Blaine says, clearly confused.
“Did it ever cross your mind that I might like to do some of these things? Maybe I’d like to hold open a door for you?”
Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it again. “I - Oh.”
Blaine looks so sheepish that Kurt can’t help but laugh. “Yes, oh.”
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to be a good boyfriend.”
“I know.” Kurt steps closer, touching Blaine’s arm. The relieved smile he gets in return sends a thrill up his spine. “And you are. But I’m pretty sure that even if I were a girl I’d still be annoyed at being deemed incapable of opening a door for you at least once in a while.”
“So chivalry isn’t dead; it’s equal opportunity?”
“Exactly.”
Blaine smiles even more. “I can do that.”
“Excellent. Although I draw the line at putting my coat over a puddle,” Kurt says as he fusses a little with the drape of his scarf. “That moves from chivalry into insanity.”
Blaine looks down at his feet before meeting Kurt’s eyes again. “So if - I mean, I was thinking about asking you out on a date. A real one, where I make the plans and pick you up and pay and everything. That would still be okay, right?”
Kurt can’t answer for a minute, because his breath is completely gone. His boyfriend wants to take him on an actual date, and not only is this worlds away from his life a mere few weeks ago when did he not expect any of this to happen before he went to college but also - and even more importantly - he has nothing to wear. Then he clears his throat and says, “Only if I get to ask you out, too, for some other day.”
Blaine looks as delighted as Kurt feels, and he immediately nods. “Absolutely.”
“Then that would be fine.” It would be amazing, actually. They get to go on dates. Kurt’s mind begins to sort through a million ideas. Most of them are about wardrobe.
“I think this is going to work out really well,” Blaine says, and Kurt grins back at him, completely in agreement.
“All right. Then let’s get started. May I?” Kurt gestures to the door.
“By all means.”
Kurt enjoys the freedom to walk to the door and open it without the fear of being knocked over, and he holds it while Blaine walks through. Blaine smiles at him over his shoulder, and Kurt’s heart flips in reply.
Oh, yes, this is going to work out really well.
*
“And then Mr. Schue split the part in two and gave half the lines to Rachel on top of the ones she already had,” Tina says with a sigh as she sinks into her seat across from Kurt as they take a table at the Lima Bean. “I’m really tired of having to fight for every solo.”
“At least you get a solo from time to time, unlike others of us,” Kurt says, raising his eyebrow pointedly at Blaine.
Blaine nudges his arm. “Hey, we had a duet. At Regionals and everything.”
Kurt can’t help but smile at him, but he says to Tina, “I know how you feel. Mr. Schue’s methods are illogical at best. Just keep fighting, because you know Rachel will.”
“I will,” she replies.
“What about you?” Blaine asks Mike.
“What about me what?” Mike asks.
“Do you have to fight for solos against Finn and Sam?”
Mike shakes his head, his eyes going wide. He picks up his cup like he can hide behind it. “I don’t want a solo.”
“You don’t want a solo?” Blaine tries out the words as though they were in a foreign language. Kurt supposes in Blaine’s world they are, not that Kurt doesn’t want every solo, too.
“Mike doesn’t really like to sing,” Tina tells him. “He doesn’t think he can.”
“I can’t,” Mike says.
“Yes, you can,” Tina says.
“Everybody can sing,” Blaine insists.
Mike shakes his head again. “No, it’s okay. I’m happy dancing.”
Blaine sets down his coffee and rests his arms on the table, leaning forward toward Mike. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he says. “I know there is some amazing talent in New Directions, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hold your own. I’ve seen you dance, Mike. You have the rhythm and musical aptitude in your bones. You can sing. You just don’t know it.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Tina says.
“I - “ Mike begins.
“Trust me,” Blaine says in his mentor voice, and Kurt laughs under his breath and turns away from them and toward Tina.
“By the time we go home Mike will be as big of a solo hog as Rachel,” Kurt says to her. “Blaine’s on a mission.”
Tina watches Blaine give his earnest and impassioned speech for a minute or two and then says, “It’s kind of nice of him.”
Kurt shrugs, though he does have to agree. Blaine might be misguided about it sometimes, but he does seem to want to bring out the best in people. “Only because Mike won’t be taking his solos.”
Tina laughs. “He’s not that bad.”
“You have no idea. He can throw a hissy fit that puts Rachel to shame. Yelling, swearing, breaking things. Once he even got a hair out of place.” He smiles fondly at Blaine, who is entirely unaware of how he is being maligned.
“I don’t believe you,” Tina says.
Kurt sips at his coffee and makes himself look away from Blaine’s handsome profile. “I knew the hair comment was a step too far. No, he’s not a drama queen. He just manages to wrap people around his little finger to give him everything he wants.” Even me, he thinks.
Reaching across to touch Kurt’s hand, Tina says softly, “I like him, Kurt.” She squeezes a little, like she’s trying to encourage him.
He tries not to look as startled as he feels. He has certainly vented to his friends from time to time over the months about the ups and downs of their friendship and non-relationship, but he hasn’t really expected their approval of any of it. He knows they support him, but he hadn’t considered they’d support them. He doesn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him. It feels surprisingly good.
Kurt glances over at Blaine, who is still sitting forward in his seat, his eyes fixed firmly on Mike’s face as they talk. His leg, however, is pressed from ankle to knee against Kurt’s under the table. He seems wholly focused on Mike and the matter at hand, but some part of him is still Kurt’s beneath it all.
“I do, too,” Kurt admits just as quietly.
Tina squeezes his hand again and smiles at him, her whole face lighting up, and Kurt finds himself smiling back.
*
Kurt is amazed to learn that Blaine likes to be kissed. Not that Kurt doesn’t like kissing, because with the right person it turns out there’s very little not to like, but Blaine really likes it. Maybe Kurt should have figured that out by how much Blaine had enjoyed making out with Rachel while drunk, but it’s one thing to watch it and another thing to experience it as the other person in the couple. Blaine sinks into it and seems content to spend hours exploring Kurt’s mouth. He holds Kurt close and breathes out these amazing soft moans against his lips, but mostly he just kisses and kisses until their mouths are sore with it, and yet they don’t stop until they’re forced to.
Obviously, Kurt is very okay with this plan, except that kissing isn’t enough. He wouldn’t consider himself starved for touch per se, but being near Blaine is very different from hugging his dad or curling up beside Mercedes on her bed while they watch movies. Kurt wants to touch more than his mouth. Not only is it Blaine, which engenders all sorts of new feelings, but Blaine likes it when Kurt touches him and seems more than happy to let Kurt do whatever he wants. It’s this heady freedom, a level of trust and want that Kurt has never had directed at him before. It’s thrilling. It’s intoxicating. It drives him just a little bit crazy with the power he holds in his hands. So Kurt takes every opportunity he can to touch Blaine’s hair, kiss his throat, and flick open a few buttons on his shirt to nuzzle into the warmth trapped there. He cups Blaine’s jaw and traces along the line of his hair. He runs his hands up Blaine’s arms and down his chest. He presses his fingers into Blaine’s back to feel the muscles flex beneath them. He does it because he loves it. He does it because he loves it and he can.
It’s not that Blaine doesn’t reciprocate, because he’s a very willing participant, but he doesn’t push. He keeps his hands respectful as they rove and gives Kurt the chance to do what he likes. Kurt doesn’t mind at all, since he can tell by the way Blaine comes alive with it that that he also is more than happy with every bit of Kurt’s attention.
It isn’t usually until they’re both already breathless that Blaine intensifies things, himself, like Sunday afternoon in Kurt’s bed while his parents are out for a little while, when Blaine finally rolls halfway on top of him and pins him to the mattress, which is just as good in an entirely different way for Kurt. Blaine is solid and strong, and Kurt is dizzy with how good Blaine’s weight feels against his chest and how warm his mouth his beneath Kurt’s ear. He wonders how he lived before he felt these things, though maybe he really wasn’t living after all. It’s not just the physical sensations, though they are definitely amazing, but it’s also that Blaine wants him. Blaine wants Kurt to touch him, and he wants to touch right back. It makes Kurt’s heart fill with joy and rise into his throat, and he can barely draw a breath around it.
So of course Blaine ruins the moment in an instant by tugging at Kurt’s collar and saying, “I hate your clothes.”
Kurt is off the bed before he can blink. He stares at Blaine and feels like he might be violently ill.
Blaine rolls onto his elbow and gapes at him, his eyes dark and glassy. “Hey!” He reaches out toward Kurt, but Kurt takes another step back.
“What?” Trying to breathe, Kurt tells himself that he must have mis-heard, except that he knows he didn’t. He’ll probably replay those horrible words in his nightmares for years. It’s an insult. It’s a betrayal. It’s a rejection of him and nearly everything he holds dear.
“What?” Blaine asks.
“You hate my clothes?” Kurt blinks back tears. He is not going to cry over this. He isn’t. If he has so greatly misjudged Blaine, then he doesn’t deserve Kurt’s tears. He deserves Kurt’s pity, because he clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about and will be mired in uninspired mall trends for the rest of his life. His long, long life without Kurt in it.
“Yes. No. No!” Blaine sits up and looks around Kurt’s room like he’s trying to remember where he is. He takes a shuddering breath and continues, “No, I do not hate your clothes. I love how you dress.” He gestures at Kurt’s outfit, which is, as always, spectacular. “Your style is impeccable and perfectly you.”
“Then why would you say something so awful?” Kurt asks, because swift backtracking doesn’t change what Blaine said before.
“I wasn’t thinking,” Blaine tells him, looking a little desperate. “I didn’t mean it like that. Really, Kurt.”
Kurt crosses his arms over his chest. “How did you mean it?”
Blaine rises slowly from the bed and walks over to him. “I love your clothes,” he says more softly, trailing a tentative finger down the side of Kurt’s throat. It feels amazing, but Kurt doesn’t let it sway him. There are more important issues here. “What I don’t like is being chaperoned by your bow tie.” Blaine taps it. Kurt can feel it go just slightly askew, and he reaches up to straighten it.
Blaine captures his hand and says earnestly, “I’m not trying to rush you or pressure you or go faster than either of us wants. But it might be nice, at least from my point of view, if I could catch even a glimpse of your collarbone.”
Kurt brings his other hand up to his chest, covering the area in question hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt. “I just wanted to look good.” He’d spent twenty minutes that morning simply picking out the perfect tie to go with his shirt, and even his socks complement the accent tones in his them. Not that he’s taken off his boots, but these are important details. Blaine sees him so much in his Dalton uniform that it is even more vital that every bit of his outfit be perfect when he is able to wear something other than a navy blazer.
“You do,” Blaine insists. “You always do.” His eyes are fixed on Kurt’s face as he slides his hand along Kurt’s arm to his cuff. Slowly, he slips free Kurt’s cuff link, one of the vintage pair he picked up last week. The abstract initials hidden in their art deco design are K and B, and Kurt bought a French cuff shirt specifically so he could wear them, not that Blaine knows any of that. It’s the sort of flight of sartorial fancy that Kurt isn’t quite sure he should share. He watches as Blaine places the cuff link carefully on the bedside table, and Kurt makes sure it’s not in any danger of getting knocked off and lost before looking back at Blaine’s hand.
“But I’m not ashamed of saying I like seeing you,” Blaine continues. “I like touching you.”
Blaine’s fingers are warm against his skin and calloused in a way that makes their drag go right through Kurt’s veins to vibrate through the rest of his body. “I hadn’t even thought about that,” Kurt says. He’s never considered his clothing as a barrier, at least not in the sense that it could be problematic. But then he’s never had anyone who was interested in what was beneath. He feels the world shift beneath him, the foundations of his life being remade.
Blaine slides two fingers inside Kurt’s cuff, sending shivers up his arm. “Is this okay?“
Kurt gives him a shaky nod and watches Blaine’s eyes go even darker.
“How about this?” Blaine slides Kurt’s sleeve up a little and waits with his mouth hovering just above the bend of Kurt’s arm. His breath makes the hair on Kurt’s arms stand on end, and his eyes are full of questions.
Kurt may utterly captivated by Blaine, but he isn’t going to admit it that easily. He jerks his chin up and says as haughtily as he can manage, “Let’s try it and see.”
Blaine grins up at him as he presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to Kurt’s skin between the wings of his cuff, and the gentle intimacy of his dark head bent over his arm is enough to make Kurt’s heart ache. He drinks in the sensation of Blaine’s mouth moving over him, and when he feels like he’s going to burst with it he pushes Blaine back on the bed and tastes Blaine’s laughter for himself. And Blaine lets him. Blaine lets him.
*
Kurt inspects the sweep of his hair for the third time in the visor mirror before snapping it closed and telling himself he’s being foolish. He’s put together thousands of outfits for himself and for other people, and he’s brilliant at it. Just because this one has a slightly different goal doesn’t mean that it isn’t perfect. His shirt is tailored superbly, its sleeves ending just above the elbow. It doesn’t need a tie to be impeccable.
Still, although he’s always dressed to attract attention, this is a whole new kind of attention he hasn’t really wanted before, or at least hasn’t quite felt safe wanting. Now, with Blaine, he does. He wants to get it right.
Minutes are passing by as he sits in his car and fidgets with the set of his collar; he’s only going to be later the longer he stalls. So he gets out of the car and walks into the Lima Bean with as much confidence as he can fake; he knows Blaine will be there waiting for him, and he needs to project the right image.
Blaine’s fiddling with his phone in the corner, two cups of coffee waiting on the table in front of him, and his eyes go wide when he sees Kurt across the room. He fumbles his phone into his pocket as he takes Kurt in from head to toe, and the bounce in Kurt’s step suddenly feels a lot less forced.
“You are incredible,” Blaine tells him, stretching out his hand to take Kurt’s even before he’s seated. There’s a rough edge to his voice that’s usually only there after he’s been kissing Kurt for a while, and he holds Kurt’s hand just a little too tightly.
He looks bowled over, and Kurt searches his eyes for any pretense, because he thought it was a good outfit, but then he also likes his vests and bow ties. Blaine appears to be telling the truth, though, if the way his eyes linger on Kurt’s arms and the hollow of his throat are any indication. Kurt’s not sure Blaine is actually blinking.
Oh. Kurt relaxes back in his chair with no small measure of relief and a fair bit of pride. He chose well. Very well.
“I’m a fast learner,” he says, feeling pleased with himself. It’s a whole new world here, dressing for a boyfriend and not just for himself. Not that he’s going to wear anything he doesn’t want to, but now he has yet another way to express himself through clothing... and a new way to get a reaction from Blaine.
Blaine swallows hard but doesn’t seem to be able to look away. “You definitely are.”
Blaine is in so much trouble, Kurt realizes. It’s thrilling. Kurt can’t wait.
On to part two.