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Thursday October 25th, 2018
When Blaine comes home on Thursday night, he’s exhausted. There’s a headache creeping up through his temples and behind his eyes. It’s too hot out, far too hot for October, and far too hot for the combination of clothes Kurt had pressed on him after breakfast.
Law school is so much more work than he expected it to be. Blaine dreads next year already- his second year is shaping up to be so much harder than the first, and damn if the first hadn’t almost killed him with exhaustion.
Kurt helps in a lot of ways: encouraging Blaine, taking care of him and their lives within their tiny apartment. When Kurt had graduated, they’d agreed to one year. One year during which Kurt could focus on auditions and his dream of acting or singing on stage. Well, Kurt had agreed. Or decreed. Something. Blaine is perfectly happy to support Kurt and all of his dreams so long as he can.
Unfortunately, there are a lot of very talented people in New York, and not a lot of roles for someone as unique and faceted as Kurt. It’s hard, living on the stipend his parents have allocated as part of his schooling expense. Still, they make it work: Kurt at a part-time job, and Blaine with savings he’s earned over years of amusement park performances and part-time jobs in college. It’s a struggle, but worth it. Kurt excels at managing their tiny household: finding ways to make ten dollars stretch into delicious meals, keeping their lives organized and their home spotless and welcoming.
Well, almost always welcoming.
Tonight, Blaine comes home to a tiny whirlwind. Their small living room is cluttered with a drop cloth and an easel Blaine has never seen. There’s the smell of something spicy and heavy on the air, which would normally be what Blaine focuses on as he toes out of his shoes and sets his heavy bag on the floor.
Instead, his attention is drawn to Kurt. Kurt is standing in front of the easel with a paintbrush between his teeth and faint frown lines along his face.
Blaine sighs. Kurt must be dabbling again. Kurt dabbling is never a good sign.
“Hey.” He ventures in far enough to peek at the canvas propped against the wooden easel. Whatever Kurt is working on, Blaine just does not understand. He tells himself art is objective. In the eye of the beholder. Beyond him, maybe.
Whatever it is, his instinct is that this art is bad. And ugly.
Not that he’d ever say that to Kurt.
“Hi.” Kurt is distracted, turning back to whatever it is he’s painting. Blaine tries not to sigh, really he does, but he can’t help the little puff of air that escapes. He guesses that right now, painting is the thing. Kurt hasn’t so much as gotten a callback in three months and he’s become obviously twitchy and bored. It was really only a matter of time before something happened. Last time had been when he’d been fired from his job at an upscale boutique. That was the pottery phase.
“So…” Blaine leads, winding his arms around Kurt. He buries his nose against the soft skin just at the top of Kurt’s spine. Fuck, he’s exhausted and Kurt smells like home.
“So what do you think?” Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hands where they’ve wound around his stomach.
Blaine wonders idly if Kurt’s been working out. His stomach feels ridiculously toned. He spreads his hands out, fanning them over the smooth cotton of the loose shirt Kurt is wearing, rubbing his chin against his single, deliciously exposed shoulder. His fingers brush the hem of Kurt’s tight yoga pants.
“Well?” Kurt prompts, using his hands to still the motion of Blaine’s.
“About you painting or this painting?” Blaine tries to clarify. God Kurt just smells so good. He bites playfully at Kurt’s ear, feeling Kurt’s shudders run like electricity against his body. Tangling his fingers with Kurt’s, he traces along the line of Kurt’s engagement ring, heart contracting.
There are days- so many so often lately- when he just cannot wait to marry Kurt. Kurt who is sweet but sassy and imperfect but absolutely right for him. If only Kurt wasn’t so stubbornly committed to his timelines and plans. Graduation and the end of law school feel so far away.
Smiling ruefully against Kurt’s sweet skin, Blaine opens his hands and fills them with the strong curves of Kurt’s body. Kurt sags against him; their lips brush lightly when Kurt turns his head. Kurt’s lips are sweet and full against his teeth, his neck like fine silk, cool and welcoming against Blaine’s warm cheek.
“What was the question again?” His eyes are closed; he’s cherishing each long bone and smooth muscle of Kurt’s body lined up against him. Kurt’s laugh echoes through him and when he turns, Blaine’s arms are ready, circling and pulling him close.
“Never mind.”
~*~
They curl up on the couch together, carefully balancing steaming bowls of turkey chili. Love has run through them; they are left soft and warm and malleable with the knowledge of desire and fulfillment. Blaine is exhausted in the best sort of way, feeling weightless and hulled and utterly relaxed. It varies with his moods, but at this moment, there is nothing Blaine loves more than the way they make love on nights like this- slow and unhurried, spooling out and exhuming every second of pleasure they can draw from one another.
“So you’re painting now.” It can hardly be avoided. Whatever it is that Kurt’s been working on is staring at him, glaring and, well, hideous.
“Yeah. Well,I thought I’d try it.” Kurt shrugs, picking through his bowl with thoughtful concentration. He looks up for a second, all blue eyes and long lashes- “Don’t worry, Stacy lent me the stuff. I didn’t pay for any of it.” Blaine nudges Kurt with his shoulder.
“You know I don’t care.” Blaine looks at him seriously; Kurt averts his eyes.
“And you know I do.” Kurt bites his lip, body rigid and Blaine can only close his eyes. They finish dinner in silence, the noise of spoons clinking against bowls too loud in the apartment. Blaine clears them away and cleans what’s left in the kitchen, storing leftover soup in Tupperware to freeze later.
Kurt is still curled on the couch, eyes trained on the painting when he comes back in. The couch bounces a little when Blaine drops onto it, shifting and scooting in so that Kurt’s legs are draped over his lap.
“It’s really ugly isn’t it?” Kurt asks, eyebrow quirked. Blaine shrugs. “Oh well,” Kurt continues, “I have time to practice.” Blaine ignores the slightly bitter tone. It’s hard for both of them- Kurt auditioning and auditioning. Kurt struggles with rejection. Blaine struggles to comfort him when he comes home defeated and questioning his decision to keep working for something that isn’t happening.
Kurt’s hand, long-fingered and so strong, is cold. Blaine tries to squeeze a little warmth and some more love into it; honey lamplight catches the curve of Kurt’s ring.
“When are you going to let me marry you?” He asks.
Kurt turns his head to stare at Blaine. “Not yet. You know not yet.”
Blaine’s hands feel too warm on the solid rounded bones of Kurt’s knees. Kurt has a plan- he always does. Blaine just wishes it involved getting married sooner. The end of law school feels a million years away.
Sunday November 4th, 2018
Sunday night, Blaine studies through late morning and into the afternoon. Kurt comes home from a part time job he hates to find Blaine facedown, glasses skewed next to him.
“Headache?” Kurt’s already massaging his shoulders. Blaine exhales, one long beat between them as he leans back and rests his head against Kurt’s stomach. Kurt’s fingers are cold on his temples- a welcome balm and relief.
“Why did I decide this was a good idea?” He asks, closing his eyes. He can’t stand to look at his books and papers and all the things he needs to read.
“Because you want to help people.” Kurt’s voice is quiet but sure. Blaine loves Kurt’s absolute confidence in him. “Want some coffee?” Blaine nods, uncurling unwilling fingers and turning the page in his book. With his glasses back on he can watch the way Kurt moves around their tiny galley kitchen, lithe and so fucking beautiful. Christ, he loves this man.
He studies as Kurt flits around the apartment, rearranging things, setting things to right as he dusts and sings softly to himself. He’s warm and so full of contentment, happy to just be wherever Kurt is. His books can’t hold a candle to Kurt; the way his spine twists when he reaches up onto a high shelf, or the appealing gather of muscle over arms stacking canvases in the corner behind the easel. Blaine tries not to be caught staring when Kurt heads toward the tiny hallway, mapping Kurt’s curves and the lines of his beautiful body, appreciating his careful grace. When Kurt emerges from the bedroom, he’s wearing one of Blaine’s old and worn shirts and a pair of old yoga pants.
“Gonna try again?” Blaine is amused. Kurt shrugs.
“Do you mind if I put some music on, or will that distract you?’ He asks. Blaine smiles.
“You are distracting me,” He motions Kurt over, leaning in to lay a kiss on Kurt’s hand. Kurt smiles and kisses his forehead
.
“No distractions. You study.” He tries to sound stern, but doesn’t quite pull it off. Blaine turns back to his books; the music blends into the background as Kurt sets up another canvas.
~*~
“Anything you need at the store?” Kurt is hovering over his grocery list, biting his lip in concentration.
“Razors?” Blaine shuffles into the kitchen. He’s sore from sitting so long. “Did I put that on the list?”
“Mmhmm.” Kurt adds something he’s thought of to the list. “Can I borrow your laptop for a second?”
“Sure-” His voice sounds strangely distorted from inside the refrigerator where he’s been hunting down their water pitcher. Ducking to avoid catching his head, he turns around to grab an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter with a free hand. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, mine’s just too far away.” Kurt busies himself at the computer while Blaine gets a glass of water, setting it down on a coaster next to him.
“Why are you checking your bank account?”
Kurt shifts. “I’m just checking to be sure I have enough.” His shoulders are set and Blaine bites down his instinctive frustration.
“Kurt, we’ve talked about this. Use the card I gave you for my account. Please.”
Kurt snaps the lid of the computer closed and moves away, gathering his coat and the list, skillfully avoiding Blaine’s eyes. Blaine reaches out to snag Kurt’s arm. Kurt’s eyes are guarded and a little upset.
“Kurt, you promised you’d let me help. Please let me help.” Blaine wants to shake Kurt, just a little. He wants to bring up joint accounts and joint assets and sharing their lives in every way, but knows Kurt won’t listen. Kurt is so damn stubborn.
“I’ll give you the receipt when I come back and you can pay me for half.” Kurt ignores Blaine’s plea and kisses his cheek; his lips are soft but he feels so far away. Blaine wishes Kurt would just marry him already.
Monday November 12th, 2018
Monday afternoon, Blaine finds himself pushed back against the front door he’s just walked through. Kurt’s lips are hot and desperate on his; he’s already moaning and biting at Blaine’s mouth. When he starts to attack Blaine’s ear, Blaine turns his head and huffs out a laugh, letting his bag drop to the floor.
“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Kurt presses against him, long and lean and already so hard.
“Don’t wanna talk,” Kurt’s hands are fast and sure, untucking Blaine’s shirt and unbuttoning his pants. “Wanna fuck.”
Head reeling, Blaine splays his fingers against Kurt’s chest. It’s a very un-Kurt like statement. Kurt had an audition this morning and Blaine wonders if this is celebration or comfort sex.
“Kurt-“ He tries, but then Kurt’s hand is in his pants, shoving them down and away and Blaine has to close his eyes and concentrate on breathing. Kurt is on his knees then, taking him in and licking hungry and reckless at his erection. “Uh…oh, um…shit.” Blaine manages intelligently, before threading his fingers through Kurt’s soft hair, cupping the sweet curve of his head in two trembling hands.
Kurt pulls back, eyes on Blaine’s as he drags the head of Blaine’s cock against his lips and chin and cheek, fondling Blaine’s balls with his free hand. Blaine has to close his eyes- fuck Kurt is incredible like this. When he opens them Kurt is there, eyes blue-green and devastatingly sexy, literally making his legs weak. He slides down the door slowly, crawling over Kurt until he has him pressed against the floor. He scrabbles at Kurt’s pants, pulling and pushing them down far enough so that they can press against each other; it’s too dry and just right, Kurt moaning into Blaine’s mouth when Blaine’s hands wind tight into his hair and they’re kissing sloppily as they slide against each other.
~*~
“So,” Blaine is panting, draped over Kurt’s still shuddering body.
“I didn’t get the part.” Kurt is limp under him, his fingers running up and down Blaine’s spine under his rucked up shirt. They’re both still mostly dressed and very sticky. Blaine presses kisses to Kurt’s cheeks, sweet and slow. Comfort sex then.
“I’m sorry baby.” Kurt closes his eyes and pulls away just a little, before pushing Blaine off of him.
“I need to shower.” His voice is a little hollow; it resonates in Blaine’s chest, aching. It makes him want to gather Kurt close, to whisper assurances into his ear.
~*~
That night Kurt paints viciously. His canvas is all reds and blacks, his beautiful face furrowed and drawn in concentration. Blaine breathes carefully and moves quietly around him. He studies, eyeing Kurt as his canvas unfolds. Kurt hurting is the worst kind of pain Blaine can feel, and he’s so helpless to fix it.
Tuesday November 13th 2018
Tuesday Blaine comes home to find the couch and breakfast bar draped and covered with clothes. He wanders toward the bedroom where he can hear Kurt singing. Their room is a wreck and Kurt is sitting cross legged on the floor, holding a pair of boots in his hands.
“Time for the winter ones?” He asks, fingering a pile of scarves. Kurt doesn’t look up. Kurt is a master at rearranging and storing things in their tiny apartment, rotating his wardrobe every few months to mirror the seasons.
“I thought I’d sell some of the nicer pieces to a secondhand shop.” He gestures toward the piles on the floor next to him.
“Kurt, you love this jacket.” Blaine squats to run a finger up Kurt’s arm. Kurt stands abruptly and walks out the door, leaving Blaine’s hand tangling into the abandoned air left behind. Blaine follows, confused, a tiny pit of worry in his stomach.
“Here.” Kurt hands him a few receipts. Blaine scans them- groceries and some bills. “I had to pay from your account, but I kept track of it all and will pay you back when I get my next paycheck. I wrote you a check for what I can pay for now.”
Frustrated, Blaine sets the bills on the counter, hand splayed wide over them.
“Kurt. No.” He refuses to take the check Kurt is holding out. A curl of anger unfurls in his stomach. Goddamn, Kurt is so fucking stubborn.
“Blaine, I need you to take this. I need you to let me share.”
“Kurt, you do. You take care of me and our lives and this apartment. You think of all the little things I don’t and pay the bills when I forget. This is a partnership.” Blaine tries to modulate his voice. Kurt’s arms are wrapped around his stomach defensively. He’s not looking at Blaine. “It’s a partnership and you need to stop being so stubborn. Our lives are more than just the money we pay for things.”
Kurt shakes his head, then folds the check and tucks it into Blaine’s pocket. Blaine can feel his fists curling in frustration and anger.
Kurt is already walking away, into their bedroom and fuck, he can’t even sit on his couch and be angry because it’s covered in clothes. Blaine exhales loudly through his nose. He thinks of that day last year when Kurt had lost his job, the way he’d tried to break down Kurt’s walls and the promise Kurt had made to let Blaine take care of him. That had lasted about a month.
Blaine shreds the check and throws the pieces into the trashcan under the sink.
~*~
“I like that one.” Blaine says as he looks up from his laptop where he’s been procrastinating on the internet instead of studying. Kurt is stacking used canvases.
“I was thinking I’d just throw them away.” Considering them, Kurt runs his finger over his bottom lip.
“Keep that one.”
Kurt pulls it aside - it’s the one he painted when he was angry. The canvas is all bleeding colors, yellows to oranges to deep reds and into black. It makes Blaine ache. Kurt is so many things, feels so many things: he’s vocal and beautiful and so expressive. But here is a depth of emotion, of anger and frustration that he never really shows.
“What were you thinking when you painted that one?” Blaine tugs Kurt down onto the sofa with him, setting aside his laptop, ignoring Kurt’s stiff posture. Together they study the canvas propped against the wall. Blaine’s fingers run over the sensitive skin of Kurt’s jaw and chin, hoping to catch the moment just before Kurt smiles, the way his eyebrow moves just a little. Kurt’s hand is steady, his fingers threading confidently through Blaine’s.
“I was thinking about how hard this is. How hard the last few years have been.” He settles his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “I feel like I’m just waiting, every day and every week, to catch a break.”
Blaine smiles bleakly. The past few years- all of their struggles- have been difficult. Even now, with things between them so much more settled, even through months and days of learning to love each other even more, their lives are still so complicated.
But. They’ve also had so many good things, so many beautiful moments together. Getting engaged, for one. He rests his head against Kurt’s.
“When are you going to marry me?”
“When you’re done with law school. It’s just two years.” Kurt pleads and Blaine feels his stomach twisting. He understands why Kurt wants to wait, he does. But he doesn’t want to wait anymore to make Kurt his. To share their names and give his self fully to this beautiful and complicated man. They sit in silence for a long time, Kurt running his fingers over Blaine’s knuckles.
“You should keep painting.” Blaine says. Kurt nods against his head.
“I think I will.”
Wednesday November 21st, 2018
Blaine comes home Wednesday with the sincere hope that Kurt is going to follow through on his promise to make homemade pizza. Kurt rarely makes it; he finds it too unhealthy and always complains that it is going to ruin his complexion. But he knows that Blaine loves it and that Blaine has been having a rough week at school.
There’s loud music on; Kurt is listening to the Amelie soundtrack while standing at his easel. The air is filled with the light and celebratory sounds of accordions and violins. He’s wearing a pair of worn jeans and a distractingly tight and plain white shirt Blaine isn’t sure he’s seen before. When he turns to greet Blaine his face is bright and beaming.
“I got a callback!”
“Oh my god, Kurt!” Blaine’s bag drops with a thump as he rushes to Kurt’s side, hugging him hard and managing to swing him around. “For what?” He’s kissing Kurt, short kisses and wide smiles and Kurt is exhaling and twining his fingers hard into Blaine’s belt loops.
“Newsies!” Kurt rolls his eyes a little. Blaine watches the way Kurt’s eyes crinkle with happiness.
“Mmm…” Blaine is squeezing Kurt close, despite Kurt’s squeak of protest, “We should celebrate tonight. Let’s break out that bottle of wine.” Kurt’s hands are kneading the back of Blaine’s neck when he nods against Blaine’s skin. They have exactly one bottle of wine, given to them as a gift by Blaine’s parents. They have enough money to get by, but not enough pay for luxuries like wine.
Blaine opens his eyes and sees the canvas behind Kurt; an explosion of swirling colors, pinks and purples and a beautiful cream color. It’s a sight that makes him smile, and he noses a little with happiness at Kurt’s shoulder. It’s so…cheerful? Joyous? Blaine can’t quite decide. Whatever it is, it’s a relief to see after the dark and painful canvases Kurt’s been turning out. Or not turning out. Blaine can tell that Kurt’s interest has been waning; he hasn’t painted at all in days.
This, though, is something he definitely approves of.
“I like your painting.” They are still holding one another, hearts beating relieved and hard between them. He knows it’s only a callback, but it’s a HUGE callback and it’s something. Something after months of nothing. Something to keep Kurt going and help affirm that he’s doing the right thing this year.
Kurt glances back at the canvas and shrugs a little. “I think I like it too.”
“You should finish it.” Blaine turns Kurt by the shoulders, kneading at them gently.
“Help me?” Kurt picks up the brush he was working with, dipping it into some lavender paint and guiding Blaine’s hand so that it’s over his own. Blaine crowds as close to Kurt as he can. He can feel Kurt’s even breaths against his chest, the distracting swell of his ass against him. Together they trace along the outer edge of one swirl. Kurt lets go, letting Blaine do what he wants, making bolder and heavier strokes than Kurt was.
“Hey now.” Kurt chides when Blaine goes back for more paint. This is fun. Blaine pokes Kurt’s hand when it moves toward the paintbrush, smearing lavender paint along his arm and hand.
“Oops.” Blaine laughs a little, ducking his head when Kurt turns to glare at him over his shoulder.
“Oops,” Kurt simpers at him as he wipes his hand off on Blaine’s sweatshirt.
“Kurt!” Blaine tries to sound upset, but he’s laughing as he strips it off. “I wonder if that will come out.”
“I’ll do my best.” Kurt turns, running his hands over Blaine’s undershirt. His eyes are hooded and his voice low and tempting as he slides it up and off. Blaine moves closer, still laughing a little as his hand darts in and dabs some paint on Kurt’s nose. The look of shock on Kurt’s face is priceless; Blaine doubles over with laughter. He’ll think later that this was his first mistake, taking his eyes off of Kurt. Because when he comes back up for air, Kurt is armed with a smaller paintbrush covered in a deep cerulean paint that he smears across Blaine’s cheek and then down his arm.
He dodges Blaine’s grabbing hands, feints to the left and laughs loudly when Blaine catches him by the waist, painting up along his neck.
“Blaine… Blaine,” Kurt squirms, stomach contracting against Blaine’s arm. God, why is that so sexy? Kurt is open and happy and strong against him, turning to paint over the curve of his shoulder. His face is close, closer than before and Blaine can’t stop himself from sliding his lips along Kurt’s, nipping and licking in until Kurt is sagging and sighing against him, kissing back with fervor. He almost drops his paintbrush when a cold slide paints up his spine. Blaine bites Kurt’s bottom lip and shivers.
Quicksilver, the air between them changes, playfulness left by the wayside. Blaine reaches blindly out, then looks toward the palate of colors, dipping into the creamy white which he dabs along Kurt’s exposed collarbone. He watches the rise and fall of Kurt’s chest, the way his breathing picks up, feels Kurt’s free hand gripping his waist. Kurt moves away, eyes full of promise and heat, to open a tube of red paint. He dots paint along Blaine’s chest and stomach; it’s cold and heavy against Blaine’s sensitive skin. Every place the paintbrush sweeps sets nerves alight, the texture of movement sensual and strange. Blaine groans.
They continue like that, trading kisses and seducing each other with fingers and lips and the slide of paint across their skin. Blaine turns Kurt, smearing a bright yellow along the incredible slip of Kurt’s shoulder blades. He yanks Kurt against him, biting at the knob right at the top of Kurt’s spine, hands mindlessly pulling at Kurt’s stomach. Paint smudges between their bodies.
Kurt stretches like a cat, movements slow and purposeful against Blaine’s straining pants. He hooks an arm around Blaine’s neck; he’s grabbing Blaine’s hair and pulling. Blaine doesn’t even notice that he’s dropped his paintbrush. His hands hurry roughly, yanking Kurt’s pants down far enough to expose the tempting swell of his ass. Blaine mouths along the crease of his thigh and the rounded edge of his butt before bending to pick up his discarded brush. Softly and with intention, he swirls the brush over this tempting expanse of skin, licking along his crack and swallowing Kurt’s shuddering whimpers.
Using his knee to spread Kurt’s legs, he pulls Kurt’s cheeks apart. For a moment he just looks, his thumb stroking over the dusty pink and clenching hole, before ghosting feather light kisses over it. Above him, Kurt moans, long and drawn out. Blaine inhales, feeling his excitement growing and unfurling; here Kurt is at his most essential, smell and taste basic and and fuck that is so hot. Kurt’s skin is soft against his probing tongue, and under Blaine’s supporting hands, his long legs are trembling as he struggles to stay upright.
Kurt whispers longing entreaties, turning around and dropping to his knees before Blaine even has a chance to admire the thick press of Kurt’s cock. He draws Blaine, heavy and forceful, into a deep kiss. Blaine can feel him, moving his hips in tight corkscrews, brushing up against him.
“Pants, Blaine,” Kurt is nipping at Blaine’s jaw, his hands scrabbling to unbutton Blaine’s pants while Blaine struggles to push Kurt’s further down. He moves away to make quick work of his own pants, then turns to watch as Kurt strips his off. Shivering, he watches the light play along Kurt’s strong muscles and long arms, thighs sturdy and masculine in the late afternoon glow.
Gentle now, Kurt eases Blaine back onto the floor. Everything feels heightened; his skin prickles with sensitivity as he trembles. He can feel the rough press of the drop cloth on the floor and the whispering tickle of Kurt’s breath against his neck. Kurt slicks paint along his hamstring and up through the crease where his thigh meets his pelvis. Kurt drops a fleeting kiss at the head of his cock; Blaine bites his lip and throbs, straining toward the contact.
Kurt moves up his body, pressing Blaine into the floor as he swirls what’s left of paint and color around Blaine’s belly button. Finally, finally, he moves his body along Blaine’s, coming to rest with his elbows in the floor beside Blaine’s head and his dick is hard and long against Blaine’s stomach. His lips are sweet and light against Blaine’s cheek and ear, and when Blaine brings his hands up over Kurt’s body, it feels like worship.
The pads of his fingers sweep over the curves and hollows of Kurt’s body. They are gentle with each other, so gentle as they kiss and rock and breathe into one another.
“Will you,” Blaine closes his eyes, spreading his legs. “Please Kurt.”
“Yeah. Yes.” Kurt props himself on one hand to run the other over the trembling muscles of Blaine’s ribs and stomach. He kisses the tip of Blaine’s nose before rolling off of him. Blaine whines, feeling cold, shivering without the contact of Kurt’s body. “I’ll be right back.”
Blaine rolls onto his side, watching Kurt’s body move, the way his muscles stretch and sinew over his back and legs and god, his amazing ass. He hears Kurt moving in the other room- the sound of a faucet running and a drawer snapping shut. Kurt comes back quickly, carrying a pillow and lube.
“No condom?” Blaine is pulling Kurt down with grabbing hands, shifting when Kurt moves to slide the pillow under his hips.
“Is that okay? I-” Kurt kisses him then, deep and searching, “I just want to really feel you.”
Blaine nods against Kurt’s cheek, breathing deep and hard when Kurt moves to spread his legs further apart. His fingers are sure and steady when he teases Blaine’s hole. Blaine tips his head back and lets the sensations wash over him. When Kurt slides a finger in, Blaine turns to look, really look at him. The paint over his collarbone and cheek is smeared from the contact between their bodies. He groans when Kurt moves another finger into him, disrupting the stillness of their apartment. Kurt bends to rub his lips against Blaine’s hip bone.
“I love when you let me do this.” Kurt rests his cheek against Blaine’s stomach. Blaine has to crane his head up, propping himself on both elbows to really see him. Kurt’s eyes are steady and so, so full of love.
“Kurt-“ He doesn’t get any further; Kurt moves his fingers hard against his prostate. “Fuck, oh-oh, Kurt, please.” Blaine can feel his mouth moving, his chest heaving as he whimpers- he wants to ask Kurt to fuck him, to break into him, rough and possessive, but can’t find the words. He wants to ask Kurt to love him, to make love to him and to honor the way their bodies can bring such terrible pleasure to each other. He wants to flip Kurt over and ride him, to watch the way Kurt surrenders to the tight heat of his body, hands gripping and loving and holding him so close.
Blaine breathes in sharply through his nose when Kurt finally, finally slides into him. He breathes out slowly, letting his body adjust, his muscles pulsing as they yield.
“Oh, Kurt.” His voice trembles. He grabs Kurt’s shoulders and pulls him closer, “You feel so good.”
Kurt is so beautiful like this, eyes closed and biting his lip through the pleasure. He opens his eyes, dark blue and grey and wide when he asks, “How do you want me?”
Blaine moans as Kurt rocks into him, “Hard and slow and fast and everything,” Blaine babbles, moving his hips up sharply to meet Kurt’s thrusts. Kurt moves away, pulling Blaine’s legs up and over his shoulders. It’s criminal, how sexy and incredible Kurt looks, eyes intense and locked on Blaine’s. He thrusts slow and controlled and owning into Blaine.
Blaine loses himself in the awareness of Kurt’s body, closing his eyes, feeling his own hands in his hair, gripping as sensations slam into him, wrecking and eviscerating him. He opens them when he feels Kurt’s hips stutter. Kurt winces a bit, hands flexing against Blaine’s thighs.
“Floor hard?” Blaine asks and Kurt nods. Blaine scoots back, feeling Kurt slip out of him. “On your back,” he whispers, feeling his hole clench and muscles ache for the completion of pleasure they’re bringing to each other. Kurt lays back; he’s debauched and sexy and confident. Blaine feels it too, heat low in his spine and grasping in his stomach. Blaine settles over him, holding Kurt’s cock steady as he sinks, unhurried and deliberate.
Kurt slides his hands over Blaine’s thighs, groaning just a little as he laces his fingers with Blaine’s where they come to rest on his stomach. Blaine rocks, moaning and closing his eyes, fingers gripping Kurt’s hard. Kurt feels so big and just right inside him. The floor under his knees is hard and he can feel Kurt’s stomach clenching under their hands.
When he opens his eyes, Kurt’s are on him, wide and wondering. He locks their gazes together, watching the emotion and pleasure run over Kurt’s beautiful face. The apartment is darkening, throwing their bodies into shadow, the lingering light bringing Kurt’s body into stark relief. He rises to meet Kurt’s thrust with a roll of his own hips. Sweat begins to bead at the small of his back and along his hairline, muscles burning deliciously.
Running a shaking hand through Kurt’s hair before resting it next to Kurt’s head, Blaine licks at Kurt’s lips, tracing them with his tongue.
“Fuck me.” His whisper falls against Kurt’s open lips and Kurt vocalizes some broken sound of satisfaction, snapping his hips up. Kurt’s hands are hard and bruising on Blaine’s hips as he really starts to thrust. It’s hard and fast and Blaine has to press his lips tigth to keep himself together. Everything is just right, just right and too much. Kurt slides his hand over a hipbone, tracing his nails hard over prickling skin before circling Blaine’s erection, letting the force of his thrusts push Blaine through his hand, over and over.
“I- I can’t, Kurt, I’m gonna-” Blaine whines and Kurt’s hips staccato against his body, short hard movements against and into him.
“Yesyesyes.” Kurt’s head is thrown back, throat long and exposed. Blaine comes hard, pressing over Kurt and around him and
throbbing as he cries out loudly. Kurt squeezes and holds and drags him through it until Blaine is limp and pliant over his body. Kurt moves, once, twice and then calls out Blaine’s name as he holds them together, hands gripping the small of his back, scrabbling and desperate as he comes.
They lie plastered together for long minutes before Blaine shifts, wincing.
“Come on.” Kurt moves and tugs him up, swaying, onto his feet. He shuffles Blaine toward the bathroom where Blaine rests, feeling floaty and light, against the wall. He watches Kurt start up the shower. When Kurt turns back and holds out a hand for him, it’s with sleepy eyes and his cheeks still beautifully pinked from exertion.
They lather and soap each other slowly. Blaine revels in the way Kurt’s skin and muscles feel under his hands. He feels a small pang, watching the water swirl with the residue of paint, but doesn’t say anything. Every moment is easy between them now; Kurt tilts his head back so that Blaine can wash the shampoo from his hair. Blaine hopes that this moment, crystal clear and indelible, might be one of hundreds such moments over the course of their lives together.
He’s still weak legged and wobbly when they finish showering, toweling off in comfortable silence. They share a look in the mirror when Kurt’s hand brushes past him to reach for another towel. It’s a look so heady and intimate and full of promise and love; it knocks the breath out of Blaine’s lungs.
“It’s probably a little late to make pizza,” Kurt wanders back into the bathroom, arms full of clothes for the two of them. Blaine slides into his briefs with a small sigh of pleasure. “But the dough will keep. Leftovers?”
“Yeah.” Blaine watches in the mirror as Kurt tugs clothes on, efficient and nimble-fingered. When he kisses Kurt’s cheek, it’s cool and smooth, smelling a little like cucumbers. Kurt just smiles and nudges him with a hip, smoothing moisturizer over his luminescent skin.
Blaine wanders into the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge. He comes up with pasta with Bolognese sauce and leftover goulash. Goulash for him- he knows Kurt will prefer the lighter fare. The microwave hums pleasantly as he warms Kurt’s dish first. Kurt’s just coming in when the timer pings. He’s pulling plates out of a cabinet; Blaine shuffles him aside to grab silverware. Kurt smiles when Blaine hands him the pasta.
“So.” Kurt twirls his fork, “And how was your day?”
Blaine pauses in the act of chewing, then mindfully finishes his bite. He’d forgotten all about his own day.
“Oh, I forgot!” He stands. “Wine?” He figures it can’t hurt to soften Kurt up with some wine. Not that the sex didn’t seem to have softened him enough.
“Sure.” Kurt’s got that little line, the frowny and knowing line between his eyebrows. Blaine turns for the wine glasses, a little pleased and a little dismayed to know that Kurt knows him just that well. Kurt is sitting on the other side of the small kitchen counter; Blaine can’t see more than Kurt’s chest and arms, but even from here he can tell that he’s got his legs crossed the way he does when he’s expecting bad news.
“It’s okay, Kurt. Breathe.” Blaine sets a glass of wine in front of him and watches as Kurt unwinds just a little.
“Alright.” Kurt draws the word out a little, shifting his body marginally toward Blaine’s where he’s resting against the counter. Blaine swallows.
“I spoke to my mother today.”
“Okay?”
“Well, she was running to the mall for something for Olivia’s baby shower and the car felt like it was running a kind of funny. You know, the new Lexus they got over Christmas?” The counter is biting into his lower back as he babbles.
“Blaine.” Kurt stops him with a look. “Focus.”
“Right, yeah.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “Anyway, turns out she had something or other wrong in the engine,” Blaine shrugs. He wasn’t really listening to that part, “And she decided to take it into your Dad’s shop.”
Kurt pales and Blaine nods.
“And she ran into Finn. Who of course wanted to talk to her about how happy he is to be getting me for a brother-in-law.” He says the last part a bit sheepishly.
”He did what?” Kurt shrills and Blaine puts his hands up fast to try to settle him down. It doesn’t work and Kurt swings off the barstool toward his phone where he’s left it on the coffee table. Blaine grabs his arms from behind, pulling him close and shushing him a bit.
“Relax, Kurt, I said it was okay. Please just breathe and settle down and I’ll tell you the rest of it. Let’s not kill Finn until we’re sure he deserves it.” Kurt is rigid against him.
“How can it be okay Blaine?” He turns in Blaine’s arms, voice tight drawn. “We’ve been engaged for almost two years. Well, I mean, technically.” He’s obviously thinking of the long months they’d spent not really engaged after being engaged before getting engaged again. It gives Blaine a headache just thinking about the semantics of the whole thing.
“Well, I explained.”
“You did what?” Oh god, and now Kurt’s wrath is turned onto him. Blaine ducks back quickly.
“I didn’t explain everything. I just- I mean,” Flustered, Blaine half turns away, hand running over a cheek stubbled with a five o’clock shadow. “I told her it wasn’t like he said it was. Not a big deal engagement thing. Just that we’d decided to get married at some point, you know. That we were waiting to tell them- oh fuck.” He gives it up as a bad job and pushes Kurt lightly until his knees are backing up into the couch. Startled, Kurt sits; Blaine takes fast action and drops down next to him, grabbing Kurt’s hand.
“I might have made it sound a little- well completely- different than it is. To fend her off a bit. I couldn’t think of a way to explain the whole thing and really, it’s not their business. But I didn’t want her to know we’ve been keeping it from them because we’re afraid they won’t support me going to law school any more. That just sounds- well really it’s kind of horrible.” Kurt’s eyebrows draw down at this and Blaine sighs. He can’t think of a way to explain this properly.
“I know you said you thought it best we wait, and that that’s a lot of the reason why you want to wait to get married. Not that we’re trying to leech off of them, but that you’re afraid they’ll cut me off if they know. Knew. Whatever.”
“You are making it sound a bit awful.” Kurt says dryly. “And like this was all my idea.”
“No- I know. I mean…well I talked to her about it. That yes we were engaged but that it was more of a long term thing- that we’ve always kind of known this is where we’d end up so we just went ahead and called it an engagement. We actually had a good heart-to-heart about it all. I told her I was afraid of their reaction; how stressful law school is and how hard you’re working and that I’d take out loans if they thought it best.”
“Oh?” Kurt looks away then back.
“Yeah.”
There’s a moment of silence. Blaine continues, “They- she said it didn’t matter. That they’d put aside money for my education and that meant all of my education, regardless. She -they- are happy for us. My Dad,” Blaine can feel his throat swelling, “He came on the phone then and congratulated me. They talked to me for a bit, together. How they don’t want me to feel that I have to keep them out of my life. We didn’t have much time to talk, I had to get to class.”
Kurt seems to be thinking deeply. He takes Blaine’s hand and leans back against the cushions.
“Blaine…” Kurt’s tracing nonsense patterns over the back of his hand. “Do you think- I mean, was this all my idea…waiting?”
Blaine tips his head against Kurt’s shoulder.
“No…I agreed with you. It made sense. It’s just-“ He brings his other hand up, skirting the edge of Kurt’s cheek with his knuckles. “The more we wait on it, the less I care. I -I’m just ready Kurt. I want to marry you. I don’t care if I have to get student loans or what size apartment we live in or any of it really.” He turns his eyes to Kurt’s. “I don’t fucking care about anything like I care about you. And I want to share it with you. Every bit of it. As soon as I can.”
He watches Kurt bite his lip and blink rapidly, then look away. He fits his body against the spaces around Kurt’s, shelling himself around him.
“Blaine, I- I just don’t have anything so important to share that it makes a difference if we’re married or not.” Kurt starts and Blaine’s fingers convulse, gripping his arm hard.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Blaine pulls away, his heart speeding up and starting to throb against his ribs.
“Blaine,” Kurt says his name like a sigh and tugs on Blaine’s arm. “I don’t have any money. I have a degree in musical theater that isn’t doing me any good, and near to no job prospects. I’m not really bringing anything to a marriage.”
“Kurt,” Blaine shakes his head, “You’re talking about things. About money. And who cares? I want to marry you so that we can share a life. A life- our lives. Loving and being with each other. Taking care of one another. You bring so much to my life. You take care of me and you love me like no one ever has and you make every second of my day so worthwhile and bright and incredible-“
Kurt cuts him off with a kiss and a laugh. Blaine kisses him back a little before pulling away.
“You have your self to share Kurt. There’s nothing more important to me than that.”
Blaine wipes the tear rolling down Kurt’s cheek away with a knuckle.
“Don’t you remember,” his breath ghosts over Kurt’s lips, “When you asked me to marry you? You said we’d get a dog and a new apartment and have kids and- and make a family. Be our own family.”
Blaine can feel Kurt nodding and doesn’t want to open his eyes, which are tearing and welling over.
“Why are you making us wait? Let’s be a family, Kurt.” His hands feel small, gripping Kurt’s biceps. Kurt’s laugh vibrates over his cheek. When he pulls him close Blaine melts into the touch.
“Oh god Blaine. I’m so sorry.” Kurt is talking fervently into the crook of his neck, “I just- I’ve been so caught up in all this fucking stress. Not having a full-time job and feeling like I’m just sponging off of you and,by default, your parents. And worrying that choosing me would cost you so much- your parents and your education. I’ve just felt like I’m such a burden.”
“No, no, Kurt. Please don’t think of it like that.” Kurt shudders against him.
“Blaine- I have…it’s-” Kurt grips him harder. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve said it and we’ve moved on but it’s- I guess I’ve been feeling a bit like maybe you could do better.”
“Kurt. Kurt.” Blaine puts his fingers and palms over Kurt’s cheeks, reading the trembling shock of his tears through his fine skin. “Never, god. Never.” He kisses Kurt’s eyebrows and nose and lips. “I could never do better. I can’t because you’re perfect. I can’t wait to share the rest of my life with you.”
Kurt hums against his lips. When Blaine shifts back to examine him in the warm lamplight, Kurt’s eyes are bright with tears and his smile.
“I can’t either.”
“Good,” Blaine can feel his own smile, too big and a bit wobbly, “So when can we get married already?”
Kurt’s hands are running over him; down his arms and over his shoulders and through his hair.
“As soon as you want. Tomorow.”
“What?” Shocked, Blaine can feel his jaw dropping open. “Wait, Kurt- I mean-“
“You want to marry me right?” Kurt is somehow managing to look up at Blaine through his lashes, which he knows makes Blaine putty, and it’s so unfair because Blaine’s already reeling from shock and also pretty much sure Kurt is messing around with him. “Well, then. Let’s get married here. We can wait to throw a party. We’ll do it when we’re ready and have the money to do it ourselves back home- I just couldn’t ask my parents to help me with something like that.”
Blaine exhales slowly, trying not to let the hope burgeoning in his chest explode. His hands are shaking. Kurt laughs,
“Say something!”
“What about our parents? Our families?”
Kurt’s shrug is light, his expression mischievous. “What about them? We can do the whole big deal thing with them when the time is right.” Kurt’s eyes flit away then back, “If we’re going to do this, let’s just do it. Not for anyone else or because of anyone else. Just the two of us. It can be just the ceremony at the justice of the peace, and then later we can have a symbolic ceremony with our families. But this part can be only for us, a memory for each other and no one else.”
Daring to hope, trembling on the precipice of his deepest wishes coming true, Blaine whispers, “If you’re serious, I am too.” His eyes are wide open, not wanting to miss a second of this moment and this man. Kurt’s expression softens.
“Yes.” Kurt peppers kisses all over Blaine’s face and then they are both laughing; nervous and elated and in shock. “Yes, yes, yes. Let’s make a family Blaine. Let’s be a family, just you and me, okay?”
Kurt’s mouth is warm under his lips and it’s long minutes before Blaine has the sense to pull back.
“Just you and me?” His lips quirk and his heart stutters. This is real, he thinks. The future has never seemed more immediate; dreams of a family and children and just being a boring old couple together. Kurt laughs and pushes at his shoulders.
“And maybe a dog.” Blaine just smiles and waits until Kurt giggles. “Okay, okay. You and me and a dog and some babies and a house…all of it.”
Blaine settles his arms around Kurt and does a happy wiggle.
“All of it.”
Thursday November 22nd, 2018
When Blaine comes home on Thursday night, it’s in the arms of his husband. Together they stumble over the tiny threshold of their apartment, bickering lightly over who gets to carry whom, kissing and so desperately in love. It’s a Thursday night and in so many ways, nothing has changed. The rings on their fingers are the same as they’ve been for two years. Their cherishing love and abiding commitment are unchanged and immutable. Their fingers, linked and tight, are the same fingers that once grasped the other’s as they ran down an echoing hallway. Today is a Thursday and there’s so much to do; parents to surprise with the news of an elopement, friends to shock. Bills to pay and accounts to merge and all the tiny minutiae that make two lives, shared, into one. When Blaine comes home on Thursday, it’s with a promise bright in his heart and a future of Thursdays filled with happiness and challenge and so much love ahead of him.