Chapter Text
“So, Blaine, you single yet?” It was, of course, Sebastian showing up out of nowhere to say this.
Blaine clicked his pen in what he hoped was a dismissive way. “No.”
Sebastian snorted derisively.
Blaine looked up at him, unimpressed. “I don’t know exactly what you were hoping would go down at the party. Maybe that I would think Kurt was cheating – which is ridiculous – or that I would make a drunken asshole of myself – which I kind of did – and Kurt would never ever forgive me… but the thing is, Kurt and I have been through too much to let little things destroy us.
“And I get you probably don’t understand that, because you’ve never been in for anything but a quick lay. So let me say quickly and sufficiently, none of your little schemes are going to work. In fact, it’s getting rather pathetic.”
Sebastian had been rather unaffected through most of Blaine’s speech. Impressed, perhaps, by his sudden loquaciousness, but otherwise… it was the same romantic mumbo-jumbo
that everyone and their mother spouted out. But it was at that word pathetic, that transformed his face into something distasteful. He said nothing more, and he left.
…
“Hey, Blaine, what’s up?”
“The other day I told Sebastian that his attempts to break us up and get in my pants were pathetic, and he hasn’t talked to be since.”
Kurt let out a surprised, but pleased laugh. “That would work, wouldn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“It’s makes sense, is all I’m saying,” Kurt said, adjusting his phone against his ear. “Sebastian prides himself on being the hottest thing that exists. Once you pointed out that his persistence wasn’t suave seduction, but, well, pathetic like it is, of course it upset him. That’s the opposite of everything he wants to be.”
“That’s a pretty in-depth analysis. Should I be worried about how much time you’ve though about Sebastian Smyth?”
“Know thy enemy,” Kurt said back, and Blaine could just imagine him looking snide.
“Hope he’s not too devastated,” Blaine said absently, maybe even concerned.
“Now don’t you go apologizing,” Kurt said quickly. “I know you like to be a gentleman, the bigger man, whatever, but Sebastian won’t understand that you are just being polite. He’ll
think he has a chance again... I, for one, will be glad to put this all, to put him, behind us.”
“Me too, Kurt. Me too.”
…
Kurt was just sitting down to get some homework done during his free period, books stacked carefully around him on his very own library table. All of the sudden, Santana was there in the chair next to him.
“Do you even do homework?” Kurt asked her.
“Wow, already with the claws. I just wanted to chat.”
“You never just want to chat.”
“I actually do, right now.”
He looked up from his textbook. “Okay…” he said skeptically.
“I never heard how things ended up with that Dalton guy who was making moves on Blaine,” Santana said. She raised a precisely plucked eyebrow. “You two get in a cat fight?”
“No,” Kurt said back confidently, “Because I’m not you.” Santana was the one, who, last year, got in altercations with both Quinn and Lauren Zizes in the school hallways.
She huffed and crossed her arms. Kurt knew he had won that one.
“He’s backed off, finally,” Kurt said. “Why do you care, again?”
“I like to know all my hard work’s paid off.”
Kurt side-eyed her. “Just admit it.”
“Admit what?” she spit out.
“Admit that somewhere under your black devil heart… you care about me. You care about my happiness, and that I’m your friend.”
“I don’t have friends,” Santana said as a retort. “I have enemies and allies. Not friends.”
“And yet…”
“And yet,” she repeated around a sigh.
“You know, if you ever decide to some out in high school… I’ll be there for you. Blaine will too. Even though you threatened him once.”
Santana snorted in laughter. “He told you about that,” she said with a proud smile.
“Yes, a few months after. I think you really scared him.” He nudged her with an elbow goadingly.
They sit quietly for a few moments.
“I might,” Santana said, and it skipped back over the silence and the last few lines of dialogue. “Brittany and I are dating now.”
“I thought so,” Kurt said.
“It’d be nice to take her to prom,” Santana said, and it was like she was stuck in a daydream.
“I could bring Blaine, maybe…” Kurt wasn’t sure if Blaine would be comfortable at a school dance considering his past experiences, but it was a maybe. A nice maybe. That’s the thing
about a future when you have people you love around you. There’s a lot of nice maybes to potentially look forward to.
…
When he stopped and thought about it, it was surprising how much Blaine had come meshed within his life. Like this moment, a Friday night dinner. Finn was gobbling down his fourth serving of Carole’s actually pretty good meatloaf at the end of the table. No one ever wanted to sit next to him, because his wild elbows were dangerous. Blaine was sitting next to Kurt, across the table from Burt and Carole. They were laughing and chatting, and Blaine was affably charming as always.
The kicker was that this wasn’t the first time a scene like this had played out in the Hummel-Hudson house. Wasn’t the second or any number that Kurt knew. It was just another scene at his home. His boyfriend and his family getting along like they were meant to be this way, in this place, in this combination.
Blaine helped Kurt clear the table after everyone was done and Carole joked about having Blaine around more often if he was going to help with chores. (Finn never helped with chores without prompting. Kurt didn’t think this was purposeful rudeness on Finn’s part, just general forgetfulness.)
Carole and Burt were going out on a movie date after dinner. Burt gave a gruff “be good, kids” before he left, the three teenage boys spread out on the living room couch.
As soon as they heard the car’s engine fade in the distance, Finn popped of his end of the couch.
“I’m going to Rachel’s,” he announced. “It’s her dads’ date night too.” He grabbed a jacket, and was out the door.
“Oh, god,” Kurt said.
“What?”
“They’re having sex… I don’t need to think about Finn having sex. I don’t need to think about Rachel having sex. I don’t need to think about straight sex, period.”
Blaine chuckled lightly and placed a somewhat chaste kiss in a somewhat sensual place behind Kurt’s ear. “Then don’t.”
Kurt gripped his hands tight in his lap in containment. “Well,” he said in a forced blasé, “It seems that we have unexpectedly been left alone in my house.”
Not half a minute later the two of them were rushing up the steps to Kurt’s bedroom. Once there, Blaine playfully tackled Kurt onto the bed. Elated in a giggly sort of way, they just stared
at each other a moment as they caught their breath from the sprint up the staircase. Their noses were almost touching and it was almost hard for Kurt to keep his vision from crossing.
“Blaine?”
“Hmm.”
“This is it. This is the moment,” Kurt said. No other clarification was needed.
“It is,” Blaine said, the sweetest smile on his face, a perfect agreement.
It started with a kiss. They were careful and soft, but sure in everything. Blaine stroked his fingers across the side of Kurt’s neck; Kurt clutched Blaine’s shoulder, a firm grip pulling him in.
They poured everything into that kiss. Not just their feelings, but also what they were willing to risk and what they were willing to give. Because it’s never just about how you feel, but what you are willing to commit with those feelings. For Kurt and Blaine, they needed no words. They had their words in the past. This was an affirmation of action.
Blaine was half-rolled on top of Kurt. Both were hard purely from proximity, a testament to how much they had been denying themselves and each other. Both could feel the other’s hardness, but it was hardly the center of their focus. Their focus was on the entirely on the person they were sharing this moment with, and what insurmountable thing they were together.
All self-imposed barriers gone, they didn’t have to pull back or not satisfy. Unwilling to part their mouths and unwilling to remove hands from the intimacy of neck and shoulders and hair, they rutted against each other. They just wanted to feel, indulge, and get off with each other.
And they did, gasping into each other’s mouths. Blaine’s body went limp on top of Kurt’s – who felt distinctly like spaghetti himself – and Blaine let his face bury in curve of Kurt’s neck.
Coming out of his post-orgasm haze, Kurt shifted uncomfortably. “We didn’t even get our clothes off.”
“It was perfect,” Blaine murmured into Kurt’s shoulder.
“It was a first,” Kurt said derisively. It was true. He had never come in his pants with Blaine before.
Blaine pushed up on his elbows, skimming Kurt’s jaw with his lips as he did so. Their gazes locked, and Kurt was left staring into Blaine’s intensely feeling eyes at an extremely close
proximity.
“Kurt,” he said, his gentle, deep voice soothing anything disquieted inside Kurt. “It’s perfect.”
Then and there, Kurt believed in that perfection.