Kurt/Blaine: Five Awkward Encounters and One Totally Awesome One 4/4 (PG-13)
Title: Five Awkward Encounters and One Totally Awesome One: 4/4
Pairings/Characters: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13 (this part)
Word Count: 2744
Spoilers: Up through "Original Song"
Warnings: Discussion about sex
Summary: Kurt and Blaine can't seem to catch a break, because everyone seems to have decided to make their day as awkward as possible.
Notes: This is the final part of a four part series. Another appropriate title could be "Worst Day Ever." Part of the (Mis)Adventures of Teenage Boys 'verse. Takes place after Punishment.
"Your face is still red," Blaine teased as they pulled into the driveway.
"And I'm still not talking to you," Kurt sassed, pretty much bursting from the car and stomping across the driveway.
"I'd say that you need to get laid, but I'm pretty sure that's the cause of all your problems right now," Finn muttered, earning himself a seething death glare and prompting Kurt to draft a number of new and creative ways to murder his step-brother in the future.
"I'm not talking to you either."
"Well, this is going to be a fun evening," Blaine said, rubbing a hand across his eyes as he went in the front door behind them. Kurt was already halfway up the stairs when Burt's voice boomed through the lower level.
"Kurt, I need you in the kitchen," he called out.
Kurt froze, hand latched onto the railing and heaved a huge sigh. He spun on the step only to receive a light shoulder bump from Finn as he continued to ascend up to the safety of his bedroom. As Kurt passed Blaine in the foyer, he jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen, indicating that he should follow. He knew that he was being a little ridiculously dramatic, even for him, but he couldn't just let it all go now. The embarrassment of the day had manifested as a huge undigestable lump in his stomach and only time would break it down. Blaine did follow, and when they reached the kitchen, they found Burt sitting at the table with a serious look on his face.
"Oh good, I'm glad you're here, too, Blaine," he said. This was not going to be good.
"Look, Dad, we had a really long day and-" Kurt started, but his dad cut him off.
"Well, I'm sorry about that, but we need to talk." Definitely not good.
"What about?" Kurt asked as he and Blaine both dumped their bags on the floor and sat at the table across from Burt. Kurt tried to quickly read his dad's body language. He had only one hand resting on the table in front of him and his shoulders looked tense. It was definitely a look that Kurt had seen before: a look of preparation for something that Burt wasn't looking forward to.
"I found this in your room today," he said, bringing his other hand up to the table and slapping something down on the surface. When he raised his hand, a half ripped gray condom wrapper lay on the smooth wooden tabletop. Blaine clunked both of his elbows on the table and dropped his face into his hands, but all Kurt could do was gape open-mouthed at the tattling object. This was not happening.
"Why were you digging around in my room?" Kurt demanded once he remembered how to work his vocal chords.
"Last I checked, my name is on the mortgage. It's my house, and I'll go into whatever room I want whenever I want to," he said. Kurt wanted to disagree, to say that it was his room and Burt had no business poking around in there, but it wouldn't do him any good. In fact, it would only serve to make things about a billion times worse. "I wasn't snooping, but Carole said that you didn't bring down your garbage when she asked you to, so I was making sure it got dumped before the truck came today. This was behind it on the floor."
Kurt just stared at his dad while Blaine finally raised his head again. His handsome face was glowing such a brilliant shade of red, Kurt swore that he could feel the heat radiating off of him. Though he was rarely at a loss for words, Kurt found himself internally stammering and stuttering as he tried to figure out what in the hell to say to his father.
"Care to explain this to me?" Burt asked when a ridiculously long period of time had passed by in awkward silence.
"I don't really know what to say," Kurt finally admitted. The way his dad was looking at them was making Kurt's skin crawl. He didn't look mad. If he had looked mad that would have been better. In all those years of it being just the two of them, he had gotten really good at diffusing his father when he got too worked up about something. But the look on his face now was covered in... disappointment.
"Well, I do. I'm glad that you two are being safe, but I am really disappointed in you. This house is not a Motel 6," Burt said.
"What do you want me to say, Dad? That we're not going to do it anymore?" Kurt couldn't bring himself to look his dad in the eye at the moment. It was one thing for Burt to know that he and Blaine had been dating for months, it was quite another for him to know for certain that they were having sex. At least he didn't know how often and in how many creative ways.
"Look, you're both eighteen, so there's not a hell of a lot that I can do about it. I can tell you not to, that you should wait until you're older because having sex is a big deal, but it won't do any good. What I can say is that I'm upset about you taking advantage of my trust. I've trusted you two alone in this house, and I'm not happy that you two have been abusing that."
"What... I mean... where..." Kurt tried. He really was trying, but how could he just sit there and ask his dad what he wanted them to do instead? If they couldn't take advantage of stolen moments in a bed rather than in the back of his car, then what exactly did Burt expect them to do? Of course, he couldn't actually say those words out loud because, well, who the hell could?
"I think he means that if we say we're going upstairs to watch a movie, then that means we need to go upstairs to watch a movie," Blaine said, his voice quavering though it was obvious that he was trying really hard to stay calm.
"With the door open," Burt interjected.
"It always is, Dad," Kurt said.
"Obviously not always," Burt countered.
Kurt flushed for about the ten thousandth time that day and pressed his lips together into a thin line. He wished that Finn would come in to diffuse the tension with more stupid comments, or that Carole would come start dinner. But, the kitchen was as silent as the rest of the house. There was nothing but nervous awkward Blaine and his disappointed, stern-eyed father.
It was official. It was the worst day that Kurt had experienced in all of high school. This was worse than the day he got his first slushie facial. Worse than the day Mercedes had gone psycho batshit and busted the windshield in his Navigator. Worse than the god-awful day when he'd watched Blaine make a Grade-A ass out of himself in the GAP.
Okay, maybe it wasn't worse than the day Karofsky had lip raped him or the day he'd had his life threatened.
So fine, it wasn't the worst day, but it was definitely the most awkward day he'd experienced, well, ever.
"So, can we go do our homework now?" Kurt asked, already rising.
"I'm not done yet," Burt said. Kurt flopped back down into his seat, pouting and hugging his arms across his chest. He really did want to do his homework. Hell, he'd do Finn's and Blaine's too if it got him out of the rest of this conversation.
The condom wrapper was taunting him. "Oh sure, the sex was awesome, and watching Blaine rip me open with his teeth was insanely hot, but I didn't quite make it into the garbage can. Oops! Sucks to be you, Kurt!" God, the wrapper was such a dick.
"Last spring, you wouldn't even talk about sex and now I find this in your room?" Burt gestured toward the asshole of a wrapper as if they didn't know what he was talking about. Blaine definitely did. That much was obvious from the still neon tinge to his face. "Look, I like you, Blaine. But I can unlike you real quick just like how I unlike Rachel every other week when she's messing with Finn's head. Kurt, I just want to know that he hasn't been pressuring you."
Blaine's eyes opened wide, his thick eyelashes reaching up to graze against his eyebrows. Did he have to look so gorgeous all the time? Didn't he know how fucking distracting it was?
"Blaine? Pressuring me? Absolutely not. Seriously. He was saint-like. The patron saint of patience," Kurt babbled. Blaine just nodded dumbly. He even looked hot when he was being a bizarro selective mute. What a bastard.
"I was a teenage boy once, too. I know how it is. All I know is that Blaine here wanted you to know about sex last spring, and then you're dating him like a week later, and now this?"
"Nothing happened until we were... wait. What?" Kurt asked. Blaine's face turned even redder. If he hadn't been so blindsided by his dad's last comment, Kurt would have been considering taking a picture of Blaine's stupid sexy face and sending it to Crayola so they could create a new shade of red called Blaroon or something.
"I, uh," was all Blaine was able to get out.
"I figured he would have told you about that by now," Burt said. Now it was his turn to look embarrassed.
"Blaine wanted me to know about sex? What?" Kurt asked, looking back and forth between them. What in the actual fuck were they talking about?
"After we sang 'Animal' last spring, I was really worried about you because you seemed to have a lot of hang-ups and insecurities about sex. I went to talk to your dad, encouraging him to use his good relationship with you to talk to you about it so you didn't get into a bad situation the first time you were with someone," Blaine said, speaking far faster than Kurt had ever heard him talk before.
"And that's when I had that talk with you. You know, with the pamphlets," Burt added. Kurt let out a nervous, strangled little laugh and stood up. Sitting was bad. When he was sitting, he wasn't in control of anything, and right now he really needed to feel in control because Blaine had told his dad to talk to him about sex?
"How is it even possible that I'm just now hearing about this?" Kurt demanded.
"I didn't do it because I wanted to get into your pants," Blaine said, turning in his seat to face Kurt, "I hadn't realized how I felt about you yet, and I was just concerned about you as a friend. You wouldn't talk to me, and I knew that it would be an awkward talk with your dad, but you needed to talk to someone."
"I can't believe this." Kurt shook his head and walked out of the room. He heard a chair scrape across the floor and footsteps hurry after him.
"The door stays open!" Burt called after them.
"So not a problem right now, Dad!" Kurt yelled before tearing up the stairs. Blaine was right behind him and when Kurt stormed over to his bed and flung himself down on top of the comforter, Blaine was right beside him.
"How mad at me are you?" Blaine asked, turning onto his side and taking in Kurt as he glared at the ceiling.
"You told my dad that he needed to talk to me about sex and then shortly thereafter you realized that you had feelings for me? How did my dad not chase you out of the house with his flamethrower?" Kurt asked.
"It wasn't like... your dad has a flamethrower?" Kurt huffed and sat up.
"What were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking about you. Just because I hadn't gotten my head out of my ass yet didn't mean that I didn't care about you. I cared about you so much that I was willing to risk your dad hating me or thinking I was only out to get into your pants just so that you would be prepared the first time you found yourself in a sexual situation. Is that seriously worth getting mad at me about?" Blaine asked. His cheeks weren't red anymore. He just looked like regular Blaine again, and Kurt had to admit that what he had done was actually kind of sweet. Sweet in a stupid, overconfident Blaine kind of way, but sweet nonetheless.
"It's not. It's just one more big thing on top of this already shitty day," Kurt admitted. Blaine grinned and sat up, pressing a gentle kiss to Kurt's lips.
"At least your dad still likes me," Blaine said, "We do have that."
"That is a plus, yes."
"See? Try to focus on the positive."
"Okay, I'll focus on the one positive thing to come out of today. Honestly, I'd rather spend an entire week listening to Rachel talk about how talented she is than relive one hour of this day," Kurt sighed, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose into Blaine's neck. Now, he was more than happy to lose himself in his boyfriend's undeniable beauty. Blaine reached to soothingly rub his hands over Kurt's thighs. Normally, Kurt would have been begging Blaine to please just rub a little bit higher before he died, thankyouverymuch, but today, it was just comforting.
"Come on, let's lay down," Blaine whispered, his voice a little hoarse in Kurt's ear.
Together, they sank back into the soft comforter and simultaneously kicked off their shoes. Kurt's were expensive, but his brain was sagging so much that he didn't even care that he'd shoved them off without unbuckling them. One time wouldn't hurt. Probably. Much. Okay, he really should just undo the buckles and then he could relax.
But Blaine felt him move to sit up, and just pulled him close until his head was resting on Blaine's bicep. A low laugh rumbled through his boyfriend's chest, and Kurt reached out a hand to gently touch his stomach. Through the thin material of his simple green t-shirt (it still amazed him daily how Blaine managed to look even better in street clothes than he had in his sexy Dalton uniform) Kurt could feel every dip and rise of Blaine's muscled abdomen.
He'd long since memorized the gentle, firm swell of his pecs, the way his nipples pebbled instantly under Kurt's curious fingers, the silky feel of the smattering chest hair that Kurt was still amazed that he found so sexy. It was all Blaine. All perfect. And amazingly, all Kurt's to touch.
"I love you," Kurt said, looking at Blaine's relaxed, peaceful face.
"I love you, too," Blaine said, smiling and turning his head to look at Kurt.
"No, I mean I really love you. I know that we say it all the time, but it's not just a stupid high school thing. Trust me, I've over-analyzed it to death. This isn't fleeting, or purely physical, or infatuation. I really, really love you."
"I really, really love you."
"There's no other person on the planet that I could have gotten through today with," Kurt said, "Well, to be fair, there's no one else on the planet who could get me into the all of the trouble that we've gotten in either, so..." Blaine took the fingers that had been splayed on Kurt's side and dug them into his ribs. Kurt squealed and wriggled away.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"We have homework to do," Kurt reminded him, "There's no sense in pissing off my dad already." Blaine nodded glumly and stood.
"I'll go get our bags," he offered, heading for the door.
"And besides," Kurt started with a smile. Blaine turned and gave Kurt a curious look until he finished, "We have the drive back to your house all to ourselves."
"You're awful and I love it."
"Try not to embarrass me while you're down there," Kurt called out, relaxing back into the mattress as he heard Blaine laugh on his way down the stairs. The day might have been awful, but the night certainly wouldn't be. Thank god.
Master Fic List
Pairings/Characters: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: PG-13 (this part)
Word Count: 2744
Spoilers: Up through "Original Song"
Warnings: Discussion about sex
Summary: Kurt and Blaine can't seem to catch a break, because everyone seems to have decided to make their day as awkward as possible.
Notes: This is the final part of a four part series. Another appropriate title could be "Worst Day Ever." Part of the (Mis)Adventures of Teenage Boys 'verse. Takes place after Punishment.
"Your face is still red," Blaine teased as they pulled into the driveway.
"And I'm still not talking to you," Kurt sassed, pretty much bursting from the car and stomping across the driveway.
"I'd say that you need to get laid, but I'm pretty sure that's the cause of all your problems right now," Finn muttered, earning himself a seething death glare and prompting Kurt to draft a number of new and creative ways to murder his step-brother in the future.
"I'm not talking to you either."
"Well, this is going to be a fun evening," Blaine said, rubbing a hand across his eyes as he went in the front door behind them. Kurt was already halfway up the stairs when Burt's voice boomed through the lower level.
"Kurt, I need you in the kitchen," he called out.
Kurt froze, hand latched onto the railing and heaved a huge sigh. He spun on the step only to receive a light shoulder bump from Finn as he continued to ascend up to the safety of his bedroom. As Kurt passed Blaine in the foyer, he jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen, indicating that he should follow. He knew that he was being a little ridiculously dramatic, even for him, but he couldn't just let it all go now. The embarrassment of the day had manifested as a huge undigestable lump in his stomach and only time would break it down. Blaine did follow, and when they reached the kitchen, they found Burt sitting at the table with a serious look on his face.
"Oh good, I'm glad you're here, too, Blaine," he said. This was not going to be good.
"Look, Dad, we had a really long day and-" Kurt started, but his dad cut him off.
"Well, I'm sorry about that, but we need to talk." Definitely not good.
"What about?" Kurt asked as he and Blaine both dumped their bags on the floor and sat at the table across from Burt. Kurt tried to quickly read his dad's body language. He had only one hand resting on the table in front of him and his shoulders looked tense. It was definitely a look that Kurt had seen before: a look of preparation for something that Burt wasn't looking forward to.
"I found this in your room today," he said, bringing his other hand up to the table and slapping something down on the surface. When he raised his hand, a half ripped gray condom wrapper lay on the smooth wooden tabletop. Blaine clunked both of his elbows on the table and dropped his face into his hands, but all Kurt could do was gape open-mouthed at the tattling object. This was not happening.
"Why were you digging around in my room?" Kurt demanded once he remembered how to work his vocal chords.
"Last I checked, my name is on the mortgage. It's my house, and I'll go into whatever room I want whenever I want to," he said. Kurt wanted to disagree, to say that it was his room and Burt had no business poking around in there, but it wouldn't do him any good. In fact, it would only serve to make things about a billion times worse. "I wasn't snooping, but Carole said that you didn't bring down your garbage when she asked you to, so I was making sure it got dumped before the truck came today. This was behind it on the floor."
Kurt just stared at his dad while Blaine finally raised his head again. His handsome face was glowing such a brilliant shade of red, Kurt swore that he could feel the heat radiating off of him. Though he was rarely at a loss for words, Kurt found himself internally stammering and stuttering as he tried to figure out what in the hell to say to his father.
"Care to explain this to me?" Burt asked when a ridiculously long period of time had passed by in awkward silence.
"I don't really know what to say," Kurt finally admitted. The way his dad was looking at them was making Kurt's skin crawl. He didn't look mad. If he had looked mad that would have been better. In all those years of it being just the two of them, he had gotten really good at diffusing his father when he got too worked up about something. But the look on his face now was covered in... disappointment.
"Well, I do. I'm glad that you two are being safe, but I am really disappointed in you. This house is not a Motel 6," Burt said.
"What do you want me to say, Dad? That we're not going to do it anymore?" Kurt couldn't bring himself to look his dad in the eye at the moment. It was one thing for Burt to know that he and Blaine had been dating for months, it was quite another for him to know for certain that they were having sex. At least he didn't know how often and in how many creative ways.
"Look, you're both eighteen, so there's not a hell of a lot that I can do about it. I can tell you not to, that you should wait until you're older because having sex is a big deal, but it won't do any good. What I can say is that I'm upset about you taking advantage of my trust. I've trusted you two alone in this house, and I'm not happy that you two have been abusing that."
"What... I mean... where..." Kurt tried. He really was trying, but how could he just sit there and ask his dad what he wanted them to do instead? If they couldn't take advantage of stolen moments in a bed rather than in the back of his car, then what exactly did Burt expect them to do? Of course, he couldn't actually say those words out loud because, well, who the hell could?
"I think he means that if we say we're going upstairs to watch a movie, then that means we need to go upstairs to watch a movie," Blaine said, his voice quavering though it was obvious that he was trying really hard to stay calm.
"With the door open," Burt interjected.
"It always is, Dad," Kurt said.
"Obviously not always," Burt countered.
Kurt flushed for about the ten thousandth time that day and pressed his lips together into a thin line. He wished that Finn would come in to diffuse the tension with more stupid comments, or that Carole would come start dinner. But, the kitchen was as silent as the rest of the house. There was nothing but nervous awkward Blaine and his disappointed, stern-eyed father.
It was official. It was the worst day that Kurt had experienced in all of high school. This was worse than the day he got his first slushie facial. Worse than the day Mercedes had gone psycho batshit and busted the windshield in his Navigator. Worse than the god-awful day when he'd watched Blaine make a Grade-A ass out of himself in the GAP.
Okay, maybe it wasn't worse than the day Karofsky had lip raped him or the day he'd had his life threatened.
So fine, it wasn't the worst day, but it was definitely the most awkward day he'd experienced, well, ever.
"So, can we go do our homework now?" Kurt asked, already rising.
"I'm not done yet," Burt said. Kurt flopped back down into his seat, pouting and hugging his arms across his chest. He really did want to do his homework. Hell, he'd do Finn's and Blaine's too if it got him out of the rest of this conversation.
The condom wrapper was taunting him. "Oh sure, the sex was awesome, and watching Blaine rip me open with his teeth was insanely hot, but I didn't quite make it into the garbage can. Oops! Sucks to be you, Kurt!" God, the wrapper was such a dick.
"Last spring, you wouldn't even talk about sex and now I find this in your room?" Burt gestured toward the asshole of a wrapper as if they didn't know what he was talking about. Blaine definitely did. That much was obvious from the still neon tinge to his face. "Look, I like you, Blaine. But I can unlike you real quick just like how I unlike Rachel every other week when she's messing with Finn's head. Kurt, I just want to know that he hasn't been pressuring you."
Blaine's eyes opened wide, his thick eyelashes reaching up to graze against his eyebrows. Did he have to look so gorgeous all the time? Didn't he know how fucking distracting it was?
"Blaine? Pressuring me? Absolutely not. Seriously. He was saint-like. The patron saint of patience," Kurt babbled. Blaine just nodded dumbly. He even looked hot when he was being a bizarro selective mute. What a bastard.
"I was a teenage boy once, too. I know how it is. All I know is that Blaine here wanted you to know about sex last spring, and then you're dating him like a week later, and now this?"
"Nothing happened until we were... wait. What?" Kurt asked. Blaine's face turned even redder. If he hadn't been so blindsided by his dad's last comment, Kurt would have been considering taking a picture of Blaine's stupid sexy face and sending it to Crayola so they could create a new shade of red called Blaroon or something.
"I, uh," was all Blaine was able to get out.
"I figured he would have told you about that by now," Burt said. Now it was his turn to look embarrassed.
"Blaine wanted me to know about sex? What?" Kurt asked, looking back and forth between them. What in the actual fuck were they talking about?
"After we sang 'Animal' last spring, I was really worried about you because you seemed to have a lot of hang-ups and insecurities about sex. I went to talk to your dad, encouraging him to use his good relationship with you to talk to you about it so you didn't get into a bad situation the first time you were with someone," Blaine said, speaking far faster than Kurt had ever heard him talk before.
"And that's when I had that talk with you. You know, with the pamphlets," Burt added. Kurt let out a nervous, strangled little laugh and stood up. Sitting was bad. When he was sitting, he wasn't in control of anything, and right now he really needed to feel in control because Blaine had told his dad to talk to him about sex?
"How is it even possible that I'm just now hearing about this?" Kurt demanded.
"I didn't do it because I wanted to get into your pants," Blaine said, turning in his seat to face Kurt, "I hadn't realized how I felt about you yet, and I was just concerned about you as a friend. You wouldn't talk to me, and I knew that it would be an awkward talk with your dad, but you needed to talk to someone."
"I can't believe this." Kurt shook his head and walked out of the room. He heard a chair scrape across the floor and footsteps hurry after him.
"The door stays open!" Burt called after them.
"So not a problem right now, Dad!" Kurt yelled before tearing up the stairs. Blaine was right behind him and when Kurt stormed over to his bed and flung himself down on top of the comforter, Blaine was right beside him.
"How mad at me are you?" Blaine asked, turning onto his side and taking in Kurt as he glared at the ceiling.
"You told my dad that he needed to talk to me about sex and then shortly thereafter you realized that you had feelings for me? How did my dad not chase you out of the house with his flamethrower?" Kurt asked.
"It wasn't like... your dad has a flamethrower?" Kurt huffed and sat up.
"What were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking about you. Just because I hadn't gotten my head out of my ass yet didn't mean that I didn't care about you. I cared about you so much that I was willing to risk your dad hating me or thinking I was only out to get into your pants just so that you would be prepared the first time you found yourself in a sexual situation. Is that seriously worth getting mad at me about?" Blaine asked. His cheeks weren't red anymore. He just looked like regular Blaine again, and Kurt had to admit that what he had done was actually kind of sweet. Sweet in a stupid, overconfident Blaine kind of way, but sweet nonetheless.
"It's not. It's just one more big thing on top of this already shitty day," Kurt admitted. Blaine grinned and sat up, pressing a gentle kiss to Kurt's lips.
"At least your dad still likes me," Blaine said, "We do have that."
"That is a plus, yes."
"See? Try to focus on the positive."
"Okay, I'll focus on the one positive thing to come out of today. Honestly, I'd rather spend an entire week listening to Rachel talk about how talented she is than relive one hour of this day," Kurt sighed, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose into Blaine's neck. Now, he was more than happy to lose himself in his boyfriend's undeniable beauty. Blaine reached to soothingly rub his hands over Kurt's thighs. Normally, Kurt would have been begging Blaine to please just rub a little bit higher before he died, thankyouverymuch, but today, it was just comforting.
"Come on, let's lay down," Blaine whispered, his voice a little hoarse in Kurt's ear.
Together, they sank back into the soft comforter and simultaneously kicked off their shoes. Kurt's were expensive, but his brain was sagging so much that he didn't even care that he'd shoved them off without unbuckling them. One time wouldn't hurt. Probably. Much. Okay, he really should just undo the buckles and then he could relax.
But Blaine felt him move to sit up, and just pulled him close until his head was resting on Blaine's bicep. A low laugh rumbled through his boyfriend's chest, and Kurt reached out a hand to gently touch his stomach. Through the thin material of his simple green t-shirt (it still amazed him daily how Blaine managed to look even better in street clothes than he had in his sexy Dalton uniform) Kurt could feel every dip and rise of Blaine's muscled abdomen.
He'd long since memorized the gentle, firm swell of his pecs, the way his nipples pebbled instantly under Kurt's curious fingers, the silky feel of the smattering chest hair that Kurt was still amazed that he found so sexy. It was all Blaine. All perfect. And amazingly, all Kurt's to touch.
"I love you," Kurt said, looking at Blaine's relaxed, peaceful face.
"I love you, too," Blaine said, smiling and turning his head to look at Kurt.
"No, I mean I really love you. I know that we say it all the time, but it's not just a stupid high school thing. Trust me, I've over-analyzed it to death. This isn't fleeting, or purely physical, or infatuation. I really, really love you."
"I really, really love you."
"There's no other person on the planet that I could have gotten through today with," Kurt said, "Well, to be fair, there's no one else on the planet who could get me into the all of the trouble that we've gotten in either, so..." Blaine took the fingers that had been splayed on Kurt's side and dug them into his ribs. Kurt squealed and wriggled away.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"We have homework to do," Kurt reminded him, "There's no sense in pissing off my dad already." Blaine nodded glumly and stood.
"I'll go get our bags," he offered, heading for the door.
"And besides," Kurt started with a smile. Blaine turned and gave Kurt a curious look until he finished, "We have the drive back to your house all to ourselves."
"You're awful and I love it."
"Try not to embarrass me while you're down there," Kurt called out, relaxing back into the mattress as he heard Blaine laugh on his way down the stairs. The day might have been awful, but the night certainly wouldn't be. Thank god.
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