Everyday (Part 8)
Kurt doesn’t notice when he starts moving, not until he’s perched on the side of the armchair, staring at the phone in his hands, willing it to ring. He waits for a call, even a text from Blaine saying he’s cooling off, taking a walk, that he’ll be back soon and they can talk.
Kurt thinks of what he wants to say, what he actually wants to say, and not what will just fly out of his mouth with no forethought or insight; how he can explain what he’s scared of and not just hide behind the word. He thinks he can make Blaine understand.
The phone doesn’t ring.
An hour later and he’s still on the chair, turned toward the front door and jumping at every noise that doesn’t end in the door opening. He thinks about what he actually said, the few times Blaine slowed down enough for him to get a word in, and it makes him cringe. He’d been immature and snippy and he just wishes Blaine would’ve given him a second to gather his thoughts and catch his breath instead of shouting his assumptions and walking out. Kurt has no idea where Blaine went, if he even had a destination in mind, and wishes for the hundredth time tonight that he could remember so he would know where to go to find Blaine and bring him home. He glares at the phone in his hands.
The phone doesn’t ring.
Another hour and he’s pacing, trying to get angry; figures it must feel better than the ball of anxiety in his stomach. He thinks about Blaine’s reaction when he’d admitted fear, the dismissal. But no; he’d been scared, hurt and lashing out, and Kurt gets that because he does the same thing, had done the same thing to Blaine. He’s not angry, can’t force himself to be; they’re both lost and confused and scared and there is no guidebook for dealing with this. And Blaine has been so brave and so supportive and -
Blaine had said he was in love with him.
Kurt sits down on the sofa, tilts sideways until he falls back onto the cushions. He doesn’t know if Blaine meant him or him, but he’s not completely sure he cares, and the lines between those people blur a little more each day as it is. He thinks about actually leaving Blaine, packing up and moving to a different state in some sad attempt at martyrdom and it seems even more ridiculous than it had before. Not waking up to Blaine’s face every morning, falling asleep wrapped up in him every night and how could he ever go without that, now that he’s lived it?
He waits for the wave of doubt to hit him. How can he be settled on something, on someone when he really hasn’t known anything else? But he thinks of Blaine, telling him stories from his - their - past; taking him on a picnic in Central Park; standing in the shower in those awful board shorts, just to make Kurt comfortable, make him smile. Blaine, who is smart and sweet and gorgeous and so many things that Kurt never expected to find. How couldn’t he want Blaine, want to stay with him?
He’s still scared of a hundred things. That Blaine will get frustrated and give up; that he will, himself. That Blaine will miss their old life too much and resent him for it. But watching him today (and god how he wishes it hadn’t taken Blaine in tears to calm his fears), Kurt isn’t scared, not of those things. Something, whatever it was that convinced him to take Blaine’s hand that first night in the hospital and every time since, something tells him it won’t happen. And the possibility that they won’t be happy is much easier to handle than the reality of living without Blaine.
He wants to stay. Wants to try. He just has to get out of his own way. He lets his eyes close for a moment as he settles further into the couch. He feels lighter now that he’s really decided, and smiles as he picks up his phone and types out a quick message. He has to find Blaine before he can do anything else.
Please let me know you’re ok. I’ll be here.
The phone doesn’t ring.
Blaine isn’t surprised by the shocked look on Rachel’s face when she opens the door to her apartment; he knows he must be a mess. He realizes that she must have had a show tonight, wonders how long he was out walking around if she’s home now.
“Blaine?” she asks, confused, as she rubs a towel through her hair. Her eyes narrow and when she speaks again it’s more frantic. “Blaine, you’re crying, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Is something wrong with Kurt?” She grabs his arm, pulling him inside as he just shakes his head because all of those questions have different answers but he doesn’t know any of them.
“Blaine, talk to me,” Rachel demands, steering him toward a chair at the kitchen table.
“Kurt’s leaving,” he croaks, starting to cry again as he buries his face in his hands.
Rachel shushes him, pets his wet hair as he relays the evening’s events into his crossed arms on the table, talking through shuddering breaths. Everything feels so jumbled already, after a few hours (4 hours. How did he walk around the city for 4 hours?) and it feels like he’s telling someone else’s story, it’s so surreal. She listens, stays silent except for sympathetic nonsense when his breath hitches, then pulls him up and ushers him to the bathroom (“I can’t tell what’s rain, what’s sweat, and what’s tears, Blaine. You’re not going to feel better until you’re less disgusting and I think you need to think over what you just told me”).
When he emerges, feeling admittedly better but smelling a disturbing amount like Rachel, his emergency pajamas are folded on the sink. He’s glad that the three of them engage in frequent enough impromptu sleepovers for emergency pajamas to exist. He pulls on the soft sleep pants and t-shirt and when he pads back toward the kitchen there’s Rachel, leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed in a very Kurt-like manner.
“Pick your poison,” she says, gesturing to the table, where there’s a bottle of vodka, a pint of ice cream, and a steaming mug of tea laid out in a row. He grabs the ice cream and Rachel nods to the living room, grabbing the tea as she follows behind him.
“Does Kurt know you’re here?” she asks, and Blaine shakes his head. He vaguely remembers dropping his phone in a puddle and not caring enough to pick it up. He doesn’t think Kurt wants to hear from him, anyway, not after the way he’d yelled and steamrolled over him. Rachel clucks her tongue in admonishment, grabbing her phone from the table and typing a message (Blaine’s at my place. He’s ok. I’ll send him home when he’s ready.) before she turns back to him.
“Do you remember the fight you guys had at Thanksgiving during your senior year?” Rachel asks. Blaine’s eyes immediately light in recognition and he groans.
“Kurt found the Berkeley catalog under my desk and flipped out,” Blaine sighs.
“And why did you request it?”
“Curiosity.”
“And?”
“And because I panicked for 5 minutes that we were going to break up and I wasn’t going to be able to handle being in New York with him.”
“And did you ever plan to actually go to California?” Rachel asks, leaning forward to steal Blaine’s spoon and popping a bite of ice cream into her mouth.
“No.”
“Sounds familiar,” she smiles around the spoon. “Sweetie. If you’d let him explain, I’m sure there was a reason. He’s overwhelmed. And didn’t you say he was having nightmares?”
“Last week,” Blaine nods. “If he wants to go...I - I’m not going to stop him. It just never crossed my mind. I love him. This him. Every him.” He falls sideways, head landing in Rachel’s lap. “I’m sorry I barged in on your night.”
“I was madly, passionately in love with you for upwards of 72 hours in 2011,” Rachel says, one hand returning to Blaine’s hair while she holds the other to her forehead. “That gives you free reign to barge in and demand therapy forever.” Blaine giggles a little, rolling his eyes, and Rachel ducks down to kiss his forehead.
“You overreact,” she says simply. “You both do. Kurt knows that.” Blaine freezes in her lap before sitting upright quickly.
“No, he doesn’t. I need to go.”
Blaine regrets leaving his phone in that puddle. He wants to call him, hear his voice and remember that he’s real. He wills the cab to go faster, even though there isn’t much traffic and the driver is already speeding. He throws too much money at the driver and slams the door too hard behind him.
The elevator is at the top floor so he flings the stairway door open, taking the steps two at a time. He reaches their floor and runs down the hall, stopping short when he gets to their door.
He’s scared to go in.
He has his keys, should just walk in and find Kurt and hold onto him and talk and listen until everything makes sense, but he can’t. He walked out, before, and it seems presumptuous to walk back in. Instead he knocks, short, hard raps of his knuckles, and hopes that Kurt can hear him.
The door opens sooner than Blaine expected and Kurt stands before him. His eyes are red, just a little swollen, and squinting against the light of the hallway. He’s still in his clothes and there’s a crease on his cheek that he always gets when he falls asleep on the couch. He’s beautiful.
“Hi,” Blaine says quietly, because it’s as good a place to start as any. He waits for Kurt to say something, anything, but he’s silent, just staring. Finally, and still without a word, Kurt holds out his hand.
Blaine takes it.
He’s immediately pulled into Kurt’s arms, falling against his chest as their arms automatically wrap around each other. Blaine buries his face in Kurt’s neck as he tightens his hold, exhales shakily as he feels Kurt do the same. They stand in the doorway and breathe together for what feels like forever before Kurt finally speaks.
“Hi.”
Blaine doesn’t realize he’s moving until his lips catch the corner of Kurt’s and he pulls back just enough to fit their mouths together properly, a simple slide of lips that feels like everything. They pull back at the same time, resting their foreheads together.
“I’m sorry,” Blaine breathes.
“I love you,” Kurt says. Blaine tenses, shocked to hear the words he’s been missing for months, and Kurt pulls back just a little before Blaine tightens his hold again, keeping him there.
“I - you said before that you’re in love with me - and I - am, too, I think. I know, I mean. And if you actually don’t it’s ok, but I still do. Love you.”
“I love you, too,” Blaine smiles, and it’s Kurt who leans in this time for a brief brush of lips.
It’s hard to stop talking after that, the words like a dam bursting as they tumble onto the sofa. Kurt tells Blaine about the nightmares, the wedding video and ensuing panic and how he really had forgotten about the college catalogs, was just as blindsided as Blaine.
“I don’t want to go to Ohio,” Kurt says finally, squeezing Blaine’s hand.
“You can, though,” Blaine responds. “You can do whatever you want. I’ll go with you. Or you can go alone.”
“No, Blaine,” Kurt sighs. “No. I want to be here. Why would I go to Ohio? I hate Ohio.”
It’s Blaine’s turn to talk, then. He tells Kurt how close they were to losing him, how he’s so terrified of losing Kurt that the thought of him just disappearing one day floored him, made him go crazy. Kurt holds his hand, strokes his arm, lets Blaine finally be something other than sweet and patient and brave.
“We don’t have to be happy like we were in the video,” Blaine says softly, smiling a little at Kurt’s confused expression. “We’ll be a new kind of happy. We’ll make new memories. A new life. I just...want you with me, for as long as you’ll stay.”
“I’m staying.”
They crawl into bed as the sun comes up, kissing lazily as they settle into the pillows. Kurt pulls at Blaine’s shirt until Blaine is half on top of him, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding him close.
“Blaine,” he whispers against his lips, and Blaine hums in acknowledgement. “Can we - will you...” he trails off, and Blaine can feel his cheek warming under his palm. He lifts up onto his elbow and peers down at Kurt, who is looking away.
“What is it? Anything, Kurt,” Blaine prods, kissing him lightly. When Kurt speaks again, it’s so quiet Blaine can barely hear him.
“Make love to me.”
Blaine almost laughs, because Kurt has never said “Make love to me” and kept a straight face, but when Kurt finally looks up, his eyes are wide and wet with nerves and excitement. Blaine exhales sharply through his nose, busies himself pressing fleeting kisses to Kurt’s cheeks while he gathers his thoughts. He’s learned, tonight, how harmful knee jerk reactions can be, and he absolutely cannot screw this up.
“Kurt,” he breathes. “We don’t have to just because...” Because what, he isn’t sure. Because they fought? Because they made up? Because they said I love you?
“I know,” Kurt says, craning his neck a little to catch Blaine’s lips again. “I - I want to. I’ve...wanted to. When we...I’ve thought about it.” He’s still speaking so quietly, turned into Blaine’s neck so Blaine can’t see his face. Blaine knows what Kurt isn’t saying; knows his own hands have started wandering unconsciously when he’s going down on Kurt, fingers slipping further and further back until Kurt gasps and flinches away on instinct and Blaine has to pull off for a second to murmur apologies into the skin of his thighs. Kurt isn’t - wasn’t - ready for anything more and that’s fine, it took them a while the first time around, too, with Blaine generally acting as guinea pig, excitement outweighing his anxiety just a little more than Kurt ever managed.
“You don’t have to prove anything,” Blaine whispers into his ear, kissing his earlobe to punctuate his words. Kurt just nods, and his face is still so warm against Blaine’s neck even though Blaine feels like he’s overheating, himself.
“I love you,” Kurt says, and when Blaine pulls away, Kurt’s grinning a little around the words When he leans up to kiss Blaine again, Blaine can feel the curve of his lips. “I want you.” Another kiss. “Please.” Blaine nods even as their mouths meet again, groaning as Kurt rocks up into his hip and answering with a thrust of his own.
Kurt starts tugging at Blaine’s shirt again, trying to pull him closer, and Blaine resists only long enough to reach out blindly, groping in the drawer of his nightstand until his fingers close around a bottle. He shoves it under the pillow for later because he knows he’s not going to want to be any further away from Kurt than absolutely necessary. He finally acquiesces to Kurt’s pulling, settling himself fully on top of him and reaching up to kiss his forehead, the tip of his nose, his chin, before returning to his lips.
Blaine takes his time undressing Kurt, lavishing attention on each inch of newly revealed skin. Kurt may not fully know his own body, mostly just what Blaine has revealed to him so far, but Blaine knows all the right places to touch and lick and bite to make Kurt fall apart, and he’s been holding out on a few of them. He’s rewarded with a sharp gasp when he scrapes his teeth along the bottom of one of Kurt’s ribs, smirks when he remembers how he found that spot purely by accident the first time they did this and how he’s used it to his advantage ever since. Kurt pulls him back up with an insistent hand in his hair, yelping when Blaine rolls them suddenly and grins up at him.
Kurt’s hands on him aren’t as sure as they have been recently, hesitant in light of this new step as he looks down at Blaine with bright eyes. Blaine catches his shaking fingers as they fumble against his jeans, lifting his hand to press a kiss to each fingertip before returning it to the button and Kurt smiles, releasing the button and zipper easily and pushing his jeans and boxers down as far as he can reach.
Blaine kicks them the rest of the way off before bending his knees and hooking his toes into the waistband of Kurt’s boxers, pushing them off as well. He settles his hands on Kurt’s hips, pulling him down until Kurt is flush against him and moaning into his neck as their cocks slide together. Kurt grinds down again, whining a little as Blaine squeezes his ass, letting one of his middle fingers trail into the crack, lightly stroking back and forth, moving a little further each time. He feels Kurt tense as he ghosts the pad of his finger across Kurt’s entrance.
“Ok?” Blaine asks, and Kurt squeezes his eyes shut for a second before opening them and nodding.
“Yeah,” Kurt says, his voice a little hollow with how dry his throat sounds. Blaine brings his free hand up to cup Kurt’s cheek, pulling him down into a sloppy kiss as he rocks his hips up and his finger rubs in small circles, just getting him used to the feeling while Blaine tries to reign himself in. He wants nothing more than to press in, work Kurt open and slide inside; even the thought has his balls tightening just enough to bring him back to reality. It feels like he’s the teenager here, and he weighs the benefit of rutting against Kurt’s hip until he comes, just to take the edge off, against the possibility of ruining the mood.
“Hold on,” Blaine says after a minute, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and waist and rolling them smoothly so he’s on top again; if he doesn’t keep things moving they’re going to come just like they were, and that’s wonderful, but it’s not what he wants, now that there’s a chance for something more. He palms the bottle, his other hand skating down Kurt’s body, and gives Kurt a parting kiss before he starts to slide down, mouthing along the lines of his stomach until he reaches his dick. He sucks the head into his mouth as he flicks open the cap of the lube and pours some out in a blind, practiced motion, bobbing his head with the movement of Kurt’s hips.
Blaine traces his slick fingers down the base of his cock, across his balls, stops to press against his perineum, massaging a little as Kurt chokes above him, his hips giving a sharp thrust into Blaine’s mouth. Kurt tenses when he slides further down, once again resting a finger against his entrance and making a questioning noise in his throat.
“Can you--” Kurt gasps, vaguely gesturing between Blaine and himself. “Up here?” He paws at Blaine’s shoulder with weak hands, too loose to put any force behind it. Blaine pulls off his dick with a parting kiss to the head, resting his chin on Kurt’s hip and looking up at him.
“I was going to...” he trails off, brushing his lips across the head again. “Distract you. It might hurt.” It probably will hurt, Blaine knows. Kurt is nervous, and even outside of that it really has been months. He’s going to be tight; Blaine tries not to visibly react to the thought, focuses instead on the way Kurt is looking down at him with a bemused smile.
“Distract me up here?” he asks, pulling at Blaine’s shoulder again, and Blaine slides back up until he can work his arm under Kurt’s neck and prop himself up on his elbow, molded against Kurt’s side.
“Bend your knees,” he says softly, pressing his lips to Kurt’s temple as Kurt adjusts. Blaine rubs across his hole, more pressure and longer strokes now that there’s lube and Kurt is loose-limbed and panting into the air. He pushes in slowly, stopping at the first knuckle when Kurt clenches around him.
“Shh,” he mumbles against Kurt’s skin. “You have to relax. Breathe. I’ve got you.” He leans down and kisses Kurt again until he feels him relax under his lips and around his finger and starts to push in again, focusing on peppering kisses across his face and not on the heat enveloping him (so tight, and that’s just one finger).
Kurt sighs when Blaine bottoms out, shifting his hips a little, and Blaine moves his own hips back, away from the too tempting curve of bone and soft skin at Kurt’s waist. Kurt nods after a second, mumbling “Move” and taking deep, purposeful breaths as Blaine complies.
Blaine rubs against Kurt’s prostate through the move to two, laughing at the way it makes him writhe and accepting the half-hearted slap he earns; sucks a deep bruise into the hollow above his collarbone at three and kisses him hard, biting at his lips and sucking Kurt’s tongue into his mouth as he spreads his fingers inside.
Blaine knows it’s time when Kurt is rocking down onto his hand, legs spreading wider as he stops kissing Blaine and starts just breathing into his mouth, but he has to know, has to be sure. “Ready?” he asks, kissing Kurt’s slack mouth until he seems to come back to awareness, his eyes opening. They’re still a little anxious but it’s almost entirely eclipsed by the lust, the love that almost knocks Blaine breathless, makes his fingers stutter and still. Blaine moves at Kurt’s quiet, hoarse “Yes,” gently sliding his fingers free and smiling when Kurt twitches, settling on his knees between Kurt’s legs and stilling him when Kurt starts trying to roll.
“Shouldn’t I - on my knees? It’s easier, I read,” Kurt mumbles, an embarrassed blush joining the flush traveling down his chest, and Blaine can’t believe that he’s embarrassed by that when Blaine’s fingers were just in his ass. He wants to say just that, see how red Kurt can get, but he wants more to be inside of him, so he holds his tongue.
“I want to see you,” Blaine says, grabbing a pillow and tapping Kurt’s hip so he can slide it under. “It’ll be ok, I promise.” He pours what is probably too much lube into his hand, slicking up his cock and trying to ignore how good even this small amount of friction feels because otherwise he is not going to make it (it’s been months). He wraps one hand around Kurt’s thigh, gently pushing his legs further apart, and holds the base of his cock in the other, pressing the head against Kurt’s entrance and fighting to keep his eyes open as he just barely feels the muscle fluttering around him and--
“Wait!” Kurt exclaims suddenly, voice sharp and too loud when everything else has been whispered and gentle. “We need a condom.” Blaine grimaces for a split second before pulling back and returning his face to something neutral, patient, something less like he is about to disintegrate into an erection and a pile of tears.
He knows there are no condoms in this apartment.
They’d given them up back in college, when they had no money and were having so much sex that they were going to have to give up either condoms or coffee and, well, nothing gets between Kurt and his coffee. They could afford both, eventually, but by then they’d come to kind of enjoy the mess, but there isn’t a tactful way to explain that, not right now.
“We, um,” Blaine starts, thinking about how there was definitely a better time to discuss this and trying not to whine too much. His hands keep drifting down over Kurt’s ass, squeezing and pulling the cheeks apart until he has to consciously remove them. “We don’t use condoms. We haven’t for a long time.”
“Blaine.” Kurt sounds a little scandalized, a little scared, and maybe (hopefully) a little intrigued, so Blaine tries to capitalize, leans forward to kiss him quickly before trailing to speak into Kurt’s ear.
“Trust me,” Blaine says, voice low in the way that makes Kurt shiver. “There’s never been anyone else.” He kisses below his ear. “For either of us.” Again. “It’ll feel amazing, I promise.”
“O - ok,” Kurt stutters, squirming and lifting his hips a little to rut against Blaine’s stomach, and it’s like Blaine’s just been granted three wishes, but he only has one. He sits back up, guides the head of his dick to where Kurt is open and waiting, and starts to push forward. Kurt gasps, but he doesn’t tense and he doesn’t tell Blaine to stop, so Blaine keeps going, so, so slowly because otherwise he’s going to shove in and hurt Kurt and he doesn’t want that even more desperately than he wants to bury himself inside. He slides in until his balls rest against Kurt’s ass, both hands clenched in the pillow under Kurt’s hips as he fights to keep still, watching for signs of pain.
Kurt is quiet, bottom lip trapped between his teeth and neck straining as he breathes harshly through his nose. Blaine leans forward again, holding himself up on shaking arms and trying not to move too much but biting back a groan at how the angle shifts him just a little deeper and makes Kurt’s breath hitch. He pulls Kurt’s lip out from his teeth and kisses him gently, keeps his mouth soft and wet as he talks between kisses.
“I love you so much. You feel so perfect. I know it’s weird, but even if you don’t remember, your body does, ok? Just listen to it.” He’s not sure if he’s talking to comfort Kurt or to keep himself from coming, because Kurt is hotter and tighter than he even remembered, but it seems to do the trick, because Kurt opens his eyes and takes a deep breath as he nods.
“Stay here,” Kurt says quietly, and Blaine smiles as he pulls his hips back just a little before sinking back in. He sees Kurt’s eyes actually roll back in his head so he takes it as a green light, pulling out further each time but not moving any faster or harder. He remembers the first time Kurt was inside of him, the first time they’d gotten this far, how strange it was to feel so full; how it had shaken him because it was Kurt, just Kurt all around him and in him and he almost couldn’t breathe with it. Kurt’s head is tilted all the way back on the pillow, staring blankly at the headboard as his mouth works around words that aren’t coming, so Blaine takes the opportunity to duck down and suck at the tender skin just below his chin, and the move breaks Kurt’s silence.
“Blaine,” Kurt whines, reaching up to grip at Blaine’s biceps as he keeps moving in smooth, deliberate rolls of his hips. “H-harder.”
Blaine drops to his elbows with a breathless “Yes,” fucking into him harder as Kurt runs his hands over his shoulders, drags fingernails down his back, grabs his ass and tries to pull him closer. His hands keep traveling the circuit, mapping each muscle, each knob of Blaine’s spine as they slip and catch in the sweat beading on his back, and Blaine’s entire body is tingling in their wake. Kurt meets Blaine’s next thrust, lifting his hips, and Blaine buries his face in Kurt’s neck with a growl.
His eyes slip closed and he jerks forward even harder, once, before forcing them back open and easing up, straddling the line between harder and too much; he has to keep his eyes on Kurt, remember why he’s here and not just the hot-tight-perfect grasp of Kurt’s ass on his cock. That Kurt has trusted him this far, pushed past his fear and uncertainty every step of the way because he trusts Blaine to guide him and take care of him. The thought makes him lose his rhythm, still for a moment before Kurt’s high, almost panicked “Nononono” snaps him out of it and he twists his hips on a particularly hard roll in.
He’s not sure how long they stay like that, Blaine letting Kurt’s moans and whimpers guide his movements as he listens to the steady slap of skin on skin, but Blaine feels himself get far too close to the edge without warning and slows down, pulling up onto his knees as he thrusts shallowly and running his hands up and down Kurt’s thighs as he grabs at the air where Blaine was. He hooks Kurt’s uninjured leg over his shoulder, holding his gaze and leaning back down slowly to let him adjust to the stretch, thrusting in earnest again when Kurt’s knee is pressed to his chest.
“Ohmygod Blaine,” Kurt yells when the change in angle makes Blaine hit his prostate directly. His hands are clenched in the sheets, slowly twisting the fabric, and Blaine keeps the angle, thrusts harder just to make Kurt yell again and revels in the sound as he stares down at him. He’s red all the way down to his stomach, hair sticking out from where he’s been grabbing it, lips swollen and red, parted in a little O as his eyes dart around the room like they can’t focus. He finally meets Blaine’s eyes, awed, and Blaine can’t help but lean down and kiss him until Kurt forcibly pulls away.
“Blaine - I need - I’m so c-clo,” Kurt stammers, shaking a little. Blaine shifts his weight onto one arm, reaching down to wrap his other hand around Kurt’s cock as he lets himself speed up, and it only takes two strokes before Kurt is curling up into Blaine’s shoulder, coming between them with a shocked, muddled cry of something that is probably supposed to be Blaine’s name.
Blaine hasn’t said much, he realizes, has been limited to quiet groans and grunts, too intent on the sounds coming from Kurt, the feel of his skin, his mouth, can barely breathe, let alone speak, but his own voice is suddenly too loud in his ears. “Love you love you Kurt loveyou Kurrrrrt,” he chants, snapping forward half a dozen times before he presses in deep and stills. Kurt gives another weak cry as Blaine comes, hips pumping shallowly as he spills inside of him, forehead pressed to Kurt’s shoulder as he shudders.
Kurt rubs his hands in wide circles over Blaine’s back as he gives up and collapses onto Kurt’s chest, breathing heavily as they both shake with aftershocks. Kurt kisses his temple and he returns the action on the nearest patch of skin he can reach, somewhere that seems to be between his collarbone and nipple and tastes as delicious as the rest of him. He shifts a little, trying not to hiss when Kurt clenches around him and sliding out with a sigh. When he feels slightly more in control of his mouth and body he looks up, admiring the line of Kurt’s nose from this angle and the way the shadows from the morning sun play across his face.
“Hey,” Blaine says quietly, bringing one hand up to Kurt’s jaw, pinky resting against his pulse like it always tends to lately. “How are you feeling?”
“Very, very sticky,” Kurt says in a faint voice. Blaine snorts into his chest and Kurt swats weakly at his back as he giggles, helpless peals of laughter.
“Good, though?” Blaine asks finally, gathering enough strength to prop himself up and look into Kurt’s eyes. He needs it to have been good, knows that Kurt believes what he says but needs him to understand what he feels, too.
“My teeth are vibrating, Blaine,” Kurt says dryly. “I think it’s safe to say I feel good.” His voice is softer when he continues, his hand coming up to mirror Blaine’s, thumb caressing a cheekbone and Blaine leans into the touch like he’s drawing life force from it; he kind of is. “It was wonderful, Blaine. I love you. I didn’t know - I feel amazing.” He pauses. “And also sticky.” Kurt starts to laugh this time and Blaine joins in, pressing a line of dry kisses along his jaw until he can swallow Kurt’s laughter. He’s missed this, how goofy Kurt gets after a really good orgasm. Blaine mentally congratulates himself on Kurt’s dopey grin and is wondering how quickly he can convince him to go again when he feels the back of Kurt’s hand bump against his hipbone. He glances down to where Kurt’s hand has disappeared and then back up to his face. Kurt looks contemplative and almost guilty, the flush that was just starting to recede returning to his cheeks. His breath hitches as Blaine feels his wrist flex once underneath him and Blaine’s suspicions are confirmed.
“Kurt, what ever are you doing?” he teases, trying to sound scandalized through the grin spreading across his face.
“Interesting,” Kurt murmurs as he pulls his hand back up, considering his fingers, now just a little slick with come. Blaine darts forward and sucks them into his mouth with a smirk, and if he licks around them longer than necessary, well, he’s just being thorough; and Kurt’s wide eyes are worth it.
“Enough, enough,” Kurt says finally, and Blaine lets go of his fingers with an obscene pop. “You’re heavy. And I really want to shower. Come on.” Blaine rolls off of him with a sigh, hopping up off the bed when Kurt starts toward the door, his legs shaking like a newborn foal. Blaine wraps an arm around his waist as they head for the shower.
It’s mid-afternoon when they wake up, still exhausted but too hungry to sleep any longer, and Blaine can barely work up the motivation to crawl into a pair of shorts and answer the door when the food they ordered arrives.
“Blaine,” Kurt says after he swallows a bite of food, scrunching his nose in thanks; Blaine likes feeding Kurt and Kurt doesn’t seem very interested in moving more than absolutely necessary right now. Blaine hums in response around his own bite, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “Where is - do you have...my r-ring? I don’t...I want to go on a few more dates before I wear it, but I’d like - I’d like to have it.”
Blaine stands without a word, not sure he can actually speak anyway, and kneels next to the nightstand as he opens his messenger bag. It’s been there since a nurse brought it to him that first night, ready for Kurt to reclaim it. He’s been wearing its twin this entire time, couldn’t bear the thought of taking it off even when goodbye seemed more and more likely, and he’s seen Kurt eyeing it when he thinks Blaine isn’t looking. Blaine’s always looking.
“Here,” Blaine says, crawling back onto the bed and holding out his hand. A platinum band with five small inlaid diamonds lays in his palm, and Kurt takes it gingerly, holds it like a baby bird as he turns it in his fingers.
“It’s beautiful,” Kurt breathes, and Blaine shifts closer, reaches out toward the ring.
“You designed it, of course,” Blaine says quietly. “Each diamond is something we have been, or intend to be together.” He points at each diamond in turn as he continues. “Best friends. Boyfriends. Fiancees. Husbands. Fathers.” His voice cracks on the last word and he clears his throat, lowering his hand as he blinks against the stinging in his eyes. Kurt makes a soft noise and drops a kiss on his shoulder before he stands, walking toward the small jewelry box on top of his dresser. He picks through it, finally retrieving a long silver chain and pressing his mother’s locket to his lips as he slips it off and lays it carefully back in the box before he moves back to the bed.
“Someday,” he smiles at Blaine, threading the chain through the ring and offering the ends to Blaine. “But until then.” Blaine takes the chain carefully, reaching behind Kurt and clasping it around his neck. He ducks his head to kiss the ring where it lays against Kurt’s chest.
“Until then.”
-----
Blaine can’t decide if he wants to wait, or just rut into the mattress until he comes, but with the way Kurt’s hands are clenched tight in his hair, guiding him up and down on his cock, the latter is seeming way more likely. He gives in, grinding his hips down just as Kurt slides into his throat with a loud, shameless moan and it’s so good and he can just--
Thump thump thump thumpthumpthump
“Blaine,” Kurt whines, somewhere between a warning and a question, and Blaine makes a dismissive noise in his throat as he swallows around him.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP BLAINE? THUMPTHUMPTHUMP
Blaine pulls off with a groan, pets Kurt’s thigh in apology before he stands up and finds the black shorts Kurt had been wearing; they’ll be a little looser on him, hopefully a little concealing, while he deals with whatever is happening at the door. Kurt’s looking at him like he just betrayed state secrets, but he has to answer the door; he can’t ignore a knock on the door, a ringing phone, not anymore.
He trudges down the hall, hoping it’s the crazy old lady from upstairs or the maintenance people talking about the elevator that broke down Saturday morning - something quick. He pulls open the door, trying not to look like he was in the middle of sex.
“Hey, dude, sorry I didn’t call, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Finn pants, leaning against the doorframe.
“It’s Monday,” Blaine says, like that means anything. Finn’s a teacher, too. Summer is fair game. “I just - I mean, the weekend, and all.” Alright, so his brain has not yet caught up to the change in situation. To be fair, it wouldn’t have mattered if Finn had shown up over the weekend, he would’ve interrupted them then, too.
“I wanted to come up weeks ago but Mom and Burt convinced me to wait and I finally couldn’t take it anymore so this morning I just...got in the car. Why are you breathing hard? Did you just run up the stairs, too? Where’s Kurt?”
“Yeah. Stairs. I’ll, uh,” Blaine says, voice hoarse and cracking as he pulls at the hem of his shorts. “I’ll go get him.”
“Someone better have been on fire, knocking like that,” Kurt says as Blaine slips back into the bedroom. He’s spread eagle on the bed, gloriously naked and shining with sweat and slightly trembling from the loss of contact, and Blaine tries to estimate how long Finn will wait quietly in the living room before coming to investigate. “Blaine, please get back here.” Blaine bites his lip, whether to keep from laughing or crying, he’s not sure, and walks over to Kurt, dodging the hand that tries to pull him down.
“Change of plans,” Blaine says with a sigh. “Your brother’s here.”
Once they’re properly dressed and finished mourning the interruption (Blaine had offered to get Kurt off, promised he could be fast, but Kurt had been too mortified to even think about that with Finn in the next room) it’s actually nice to see Finn. They’ve been so self-contained, mostly isolated from a world outside of each other, and while Blaine loves that, could probably spend every day seeing no one but Kurt and still be content, he’s missed everyone.
Finn is happy to spend the rest of the day accompanying them on errands “as long as we get to go to the zoo tomorrow” because it’s an end of summer tradition that Finn comes to New York and they spend the day at the zoo, and of course he would remember that even with everything else that’s happened this summer. He looks confused, then amused, as Blaine crouches down at the top of the stairs and Kurt climbs onto his back with a sigh.
“Blaine won’t let me walk down the stairs,” Kurt explains.
“Do I need to remind you that we’re literally on our way to the appointment that determines whether or not you get to lose the cast altogether?” Blaine asks as they start down the many, many flights of stairs. “Do you really want to mess it up now? Think of the pants, Kurt.”
“The glorious pants,” Kurt sighs in agreement, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Blaine’s neck. Blaine feels his face heat up at the curious look Finn shoots them, almost nervous like he was back when they first started dating. He grins at Finn and he knows it looks goofy but Finn returns it all the same.
Kurt’s x-rays come back clean, and he must pass whatever tests the physical therapist puts him through, because he gets the ok to take the cast off, with the request that he be careful and promise to wear it if he goes above a four on the pain scale. Kurt almost manages to hide his scoff at that, pulling a pair of carefully folded skinny jeans out of his bag and unfurling them like a flag he very much wants to salute.
“Goodbye, horribly lopsided calves!” Kurt cries as he and Blaine appear in the waiting room.
“Come on. Let’s take your lopsided calves and your brother to dinner,” Blaine laughs, poking Kurt in the ribs and artfully dodging his retaliation.
Blaine watches Finn watch them all through dinner, a quiet, bemused smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. Kurt is less affectionate than he has been, some ingrained self-defense mechanism kicking in out of habit at Finn’s presence, but Blaine knows it’s impossible to miss the way Kurt leans into his touch, the way they really don’t ever stop looking at each other.
Kurt’s in the shower getting the “city smell” he still hasn’t adjusted to off of him when Finn finally says something.
“He seems happy.”
“He is, I think,” Blaine says, eyes automatically drifting down the hall toward the closed bathroom door. “It’s been...there have been a few rough moments, but we’re getting there. I think he’s happy.”
“Are you happy?”
“Of course.”
“Blaine,” Finn says, because as much as he likes to play blissfully ignorant, he’s perceptive in a way that never fails to startle Blaine. “It’s ok if it’s hard. You lost so much.”
“I didn’t, though,” Blaine argues. “I still have all of that up here,” he points to his head. “And in here,” he points to his heart. “And I’ll eventually manage to tell Kurt all of it, but in the meantime we have something new.”
“I don’t know how you’re dealing with this, man.”
“It’s kind of a heady feeling, making Kurt Hummel fall in love with you,” Blaine says, a grin creeping across his face. “I’ve managed it twice now.”
-----
Blaine never expected the zoo to become a tradition.
It all started when Finn helped move Blaine’s things into the apartment before freshman year, when Finn had only been to New York a handful of times and was still overwhelmed by how much it was not his scene.
“You don’t even have like, animals, dude,” he’d said to Kurt. “Isn’t that like, one of the signs of a functional society or something?” Kurt had been so exasperated that he’d dragged Finn and Blaine onto the subway and taken them to the Bronx Zoo, spreading his arms wide and exclaiming, “Look, Finn. Animals.”
Finn had been delighted, of course, and Blaine had been almost as excited, but he hadn’t expected Kurt to join Finn in his antics, running around talking to the animals and giggling like a little kid.
Kind of like he is right now.
They’ve been at the zoo for a few hours, weaving through families and alternating indoor and outdoor exhibits in hopes of brief respite from the unforgiving August sun, and while Kurt had been reserved at first, it wasn’t long before Finn was bodily dragging him closer to the animals, coaxing him into a game familiar to everyone but Kurt.
“What that one’s deal?” Finn asks, pointing toward where a lemur is hanging morosely from a branch.
“Ah, well,” Kurt says with a sigh. “It’s tragic, really. See that girl over there?” he points to another lemur on the other side of the enclosure. “Ex-girlfriend. Walked in on her having sex with her boss. He broke up with her and she kept their goldfish out of spite. She doesn’t even like the thing.” Kurt bursts into laughter as he finishes, his giggles lilting over Finn’s deeper guffaw.
They’re halfway to the aviary when Kurt slows, then stops with a quiet hiss of pain. He shakes off Blaine’s questioning look, only to stop again a few steps later, leaning heavily on his good leg.
“Break time?” Blaine asks, but Kurt shakes his head.
“There’s a show in the aviary in 5 minutes. I don’t want to miss it. I’ll manage,” Kurt insists, cringing just a little at his next step. Blaine tries to stop him again but Kurt narrows his eyes and he doesn’t want to fight with that look.
“Hop on,” Finn says suddenly, tugging at Kurt’s arm. Kurt shrinks back, unconsciously tucking himself into Blaine’s side.
“No, it’s - it’s fine. If I’m getting a piggyback ride, Blaine can do it, right?”
“Not if you want to go in the aviary,” Blaine shakes his head, voice coming out higher than he intended. Finn laughs a little and Blaine levels a glare at him that seems to have absolutely no effect.
“Come on, Blaine’s scared of really big birds but I’m not, and you don’t wanna miss it,” Finn insists, turning his back toward Kurt. Blaine smiles encouragingly when Kurt glances at him and Kurt rolls his eyes as he approaches Finn awkwardly. Finn grabs him under the knees and hoists him up, chuckling when Kurt yelps and starting to walk again.
“This is embarrassing,” Kurt mumbles, trying to keep his balance on Finn’s back while touching him as little as possible.
“Nah,” Finn shrugs, using the motion to hike Kurt higher up. “This is embarrassing.” He whinnies like a horse and sets off at a light gallop, and Blaine follows behind as Kurt shrieks and slaps at Finn’s head.
“It’s really, really good to have you back, bro,” Finn says in a sleepy voice as he settles into the sofa for the night. He holds his fist out and Kurt considers it for a moment before bumping his own against it and disappearing into the bedroom with a smile. Blaine turns off the lights and is almost to the hall when Finn speaks again.
“It’s good to have you back, too.”
Part 9