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It’s been thirty minutes since Blaine and Sam snuck into Rachel’s slumber party. They’d strategized all week, devised and revised plans, only for it to turn out being as simple as silently opening the door and hiding out at the top of the stairs while Rachel and her friends take over the basement-turned-entertainment room. Sam had even brought a secret-spy listening device, disguised to look like a portable CD player, that he got as a kid, but it turned out to be unnecessary — they could hear everything being said with remarkable ease.
Most of it has been singing and bursts of girlish laughter, and Blaine can’t help but feel disappointed.
"I’m going to look again," Blaine whispers to Sam, who’d seemed pumped with excitement at first but now has taken to rolling his head along the wall behind him, blinking his eyes deliberately as if he’s fighting off sleep.
Slowly, Blaine crawls down the steps, easing onto them with calculated movements to keep the boards from creaking. As soon as the wall starts to separate from the stairway, he stops and peeks his head down to look through the narrow slice.
Everything looks just as it had when he’d last peeked. Rachel sits with her back to him while her friends form a circle on the floor that seems ever-changing as they move around. He sees Mercedes as she hops up and dances over to the stereo system, the volume of the music getting steadily louder as a result. Tina falls into the spot Mercedes had left, taking the jumbo bag of Lay’s out of Brittany’s hand and digging out a handful of chips for herself. Santana looks more docile than Blaine has ever known her to be, watching on with laughter as Tina and Brittany squabble over the food.
He notices Quinn isn’t there and wonders if his sister had even invited her; he’s grateful that Facebook doesn’t have relationship statuses for friends because his feed would be clogged with those two’s turmoil all the time.
Right next to Rachel, though, is the motive for this mission of Blaine’s design. Kurt Hummel, an upcoming junior just like the rest of his friends, a long-time best friend to the older of the Anderson-Berry siblings, and quite possibly the love of Blaine’s life.
He was struck with this crush one afternoon six months ago, when Rachel came home from glee practice with Kurt on her arm, both bubbly and talking in quick, excited voices. What made this moment stand out from any other time Blaine had seen him was the clothes Kurt had been wearing. More specifically, a uniform, red and white and molding well to his body.
Blaine distinctly remembers his first thought had been to reach out and trace the WMHS plastered across his chest and he blushed so hard he thought he’d melt through his chair at the dining room table.
The loud joy in their voices brought Blaine and Rachel’s dads out of TV room, which led to Kurt explaining to them all how Coach Sylvester gave him a solo for the next big cheer competition and how she’d designed the routine all around him. The way Kurt lit up and poured over with happiness, the bright smile and brighter shine of his eyes, made it impossible to look away from him, and the more Kurt spoke, the more Blaine’s heart clenched at how unspeakably adorable Kurt was.
It was later that evening, when Blaine went online to the Cheerios’s YouTube account and found the Four Minutes video, that it all fell into place. It’s been half a year, but Blaine’s life has not been the same since.
Blaine knows from Rachel that Kurt is gay. He knows that Kurt is the only out kid at McKinley (and Blaine can’t wait until August, when he is finally a freshman and the count goes up by one — maybe Kurt will find it reassuring and stick by him). He knows that, unfortunately, Kurt is no longer a Cheerio, ending any dreams of Blaine seeing him in that uniform again, though the thoughts it evoked were hardly appropriate for the hallways.
Over the years, Blaine has learned plenty of things about Kurt.
The only thing he doesn’t know, the thing he’s too shy to ask his sister about, is if Kurt has a boyfriend.
He’s been fretting over that unknown bit of information for almost as long as his crush on him has been alive and kicking. He can imagine that there are subtle ways he could ask, could take a ‘figuring out my sexuality please help me’ approach, or he could even just straight up ask him.
It’s the nerves that stop him, though, even keep him from going the chicken route and looking at Kurt’s Facebook profile for the answer. Living in a constant state of gnawing curiosity, at least for Blaine, beats the potential of a heart-crushing reality. If nothing else, it keeps his daydreams from getting too gritty with thoughts of swooping in to steal Kurt for himself; Blaine doesn’t know if he has it in him to be a home-wrecker, even in his mind.
The need for an answer grew as the summer went on, and the options for figuring out swirled in his mind, until Rachel announced that she wanted to have a fourth of July sleepover. Naturally, Kurt would be invited, and it felt as though a skyful of opportunity had opened up for Blaine — because if there is ever a chance to get the dirt on crushes and boyfriends, it’s at a slumber party.
And yet, as it stands now, it’s looking like Blaine’s theory is a bust. The most interesting thing they’ve brought up is some drama within the show choir circuit, and Blaine isn’t even sure precisely who they’re talking about.
"That Smythe guy seems like such a sleazeball," Mercedes says, squeezing between Tina and Brittany to take back her spot. She reaches back behind her and grabs a fluffy purple pillow, hugging it in her lap. "He thrusts his hips more than Puck does."
"The Warblers haven’t been known for their class since their seniors from two years ago graduated," Rachel says, examining her freshly painted, bright pink nails. "I wouldn’t be surprised if they bring some atrocious Robin Thicke medley to Sectionals this year."
"Or a mash-up of Candy Shop and Pour Some Sugar on Me," Kurt chimes in, sparking another round of laughter. Blaine sees, in profile, as Kurt grins, patting Santana’s shoulder when she topples over into him, and it makes Blaine smile, too.
"You know what we should do," Brittany says as they start to settle down. "Is have Kurt go and spy on the Warblers when school’s back in."
The conspiratory ohhh from the girls is countered by Kurt’s “no no no no”. He laughs as he shakes his head, ducking away when Santana nudges his arm.
"Why not?" she says, voice loud and uneven. "It’s all boys in blazers and ties and preppy shit like that, wouldn’t that be some sort of gay heaven for you?"
There’s more laughter, and Blaine can see the blush on Kurt’s ears as he looks around, glaring at his friends.
"As much as I can appreciate a nice boy in uniform, I’ll remind you that we were just discussing how not nice the Warblers are.”
"Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had some bullshitty tunnel vision that made you blind to anyone not thrusting in your direction."
"Yeah, Kurt, maybe you could meet a nice boy there," Tina says with a shrug, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Blaine’s fingers curl tighter around the edge of the step below him, eyes locked on Kurt as he waits for his response.
Kurt seems at a loss for a moment, mouth opening and closing with a growing grin. Rachel takes his flustered silence to lean on him and sing-song, “Come on, Kurt, you know you want to!”
"Isn’t Westerville a few hours away, though? How am I supposed to do that on a school day?"
"Very carefully? Stop fighting this, it’s a win for everybody! We get top secret intel on a rival show choir and you get a cute private school boyfriend."
Blaine sees the way Kurt scrunches up his nose as he shakes his head and hides his face in his hands to the sounds of his friends’ encouragement. Santana goes as far as pulling on his wrist with both hands while singing “you like it, you like it”.
With a heavy pit forming in his stomach, Blaine backs away, letting Rachel and her friends disappear behind the off-white wall. He can still hear their voices clear as day — laughs quietly when Kurt shouts, “The alcohol content of your breath is enough to get me drunk, Santana, back off” — but he doesn’t think he can bear watching them anymore. He knows he has no claim over Kurt other than what exists in his mind, but that doesn’t make watching him get bashful over other guys any less agonizing.
He doesn’t know how to feel about what he just witnessed. It confirmed that Kurt isn’t dating anyone, which makes his chest ache so strongly with hope that Blaine feels sick with it. The only problem is the light radiating from Kurt as his friends urged him to go to spy on the Warblers.
Because what is Blaine compared to a private school boy? Blaine dresses nicely enough, can sing and play piano, and is every bit as smart as any of those boys at that school — honestly, he just lacks the uniform. And, more than that, he lacks the image that a uniform gives. Put-together, self-assured, part of a tradition, maybe having a certain familial status or is at least well-off. Without that unified meaning, what does Blaine have going for him? A collection of bow ties and brightly colored pants? That only makes him look like ‘your best friend’s little brother’, and it’s not a look that’s ever appealed to Kurt before.
He leans back against the wall, lets the cool air pouring from under the closed door calm him as he stares at the wall above Sam’s head. What does Kurt see when he looks at Blaine? He can deal with being ‘the little brother’, he’d be deluding himself if he thought that that isn’t his most prominent identifier to Kurt. But is there anything more than that? If Blaine just spoke to him about it, could Kurt return his feelings? Would he?
He feels a nudge at his foot and looks at Sam. Heavy-lidded and limp, he mouths, “Can we go?”
Blaine gnaws on the inside of his cheek for a moment before he whispers back, “You can go. I just need to find out one more thing.”
He sees Sam rolls his eyes as he stands up, starting the careful process of stealthily opening the whiny basement door. The music pumps up louder again from downstairs, and Sam uses that to push the door a fraction faster, slipping out as soon as the gap is wide enough for him to get through.
The sound of singing swells, and Blaine sighs, stretching his legs along the step. He may be the worst friend and a terrible host right now, but he can’t think of anything more important than figuring out how Kurt feels about him. Dare he say it, his life depends on the things he hears tonight, even if he has to take a little nonsense along with it.
*
It’s well past midnight before they shut off the music. Blaine is drifting through a half state of consciousness before he feels a jolt, blinking wildly and breathing hard as it eases away. He notices then how much quieter it’s gotten downstairs and edges down again, working to pick up on the conversation he’s fallen in the middle of.
"I mean, am I wrong for wanting to wait?" Rachel asks.
"You’re not wrong," Santana replies. "You’re just weird."
"Now, now-" Mercedes interjects, but Rachel’s voice rolls over hers.
"No, it’s weird that teenagers aren’t more worried about this stuff. Diseases and infections and pregnancy-“
"You know, condoms do exist, girl."
"They can break!" Rachel says, her voice trembly-high and frantic. It’s sunk in now that Blaine woke just in time to hear his sister talk about having sex and his nose snarls up, face twisting with the absolute ‘no’ of letting this information enter his brain. “And anyway, Finn’s too embarrassed to buy them.”
Blaine gags, lifting himself to his feet, preparing to flee, only to freeze at the sound of a scoff.
"Well, in that case, you two should definitely reconsider doing the do," Kurt says. "And can we please stop talking about my brother and sex? I’m starting to break out in hives.”
There’s some snickering that follows that and Blaine collapses back down with a sigh. He couldn’t love Kurt any more than he does right now, simply for putting an end to that conversation.
"Ah ah, Kurt," Santana says. "It’s like you think it’s suddenly ancient history that you wanted to bone Finn yourself."
More laughter rolls up the stairs and Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up, mouth parted as he turns his head a fraction to stare at the gap in the wall. What the hell did I just wake up to?
"Please stop talking, dear god, please stop talking."
"He’s a good kisser, in case you were wondering," Rachel says, and Blaine looks down then to see Rachel nudging Kurt with her elbow as he holds his hands over his ears, singing, "La la la la la la."
"What? No, he’s not."
"Um. Is, too, Santana."
"You’re forgetting I’m the one who actually had sex with him."
“You’re forgetting I’m the one who’s actually dating him!”
"So? That doesn’t mean he can kiss."
"Okay!" Mercedes yells over them, clapping her hands together with a wide smile. "Good talk. Let’s try moving on to something a little less heated."
"Like Iceland." Everyone, including Blaine, looks over at Brittany, who stares back expectantly. "Or polar bears."
Blaine sees Kurt rolls his jaw, shake his head, before he says, “I do agree with Mercedes, this topic has gotten way out of hand.”
"Okay, fine," Santana says, turning to face Kurt, legs pretzel-crossed, elbows resting on her knees. "Who have you macked on recently?”
Blaine’s eyes widen and Kurt seems no less shocked. He sputters at Santana, looks around the circle, everyone else seeming thrown as well.
"C’mon, don’t be shy! You’re the only one that hasn’t spoken up for this whole conversation. If Berry has something to say in a talk about sex, then I’d hope to god you’ve got some shit going on, too.”
Rachel’s indignant chirp of an “excuse me” gets drowned out by the roaring in Blaine’s ears. He doesn’t know what’s coming, what Kurt will admit, and it makes his heart pound in his chest. His brain floods with the possibilities, and as he thinks about it, he finds that any answer will be good for him. Because if Kurt’s had sex before, then- he’ll know things. Things Blaine might not know. And, oh, that’s not a bad thought at all. There’s no way he can lose.
Kurt doesn’t say anything, though. Just stares at Santana, who grins with a devious little glint in her eyes. “C’mon, Kurt. It’s just us girls.”
Next thing Blaine sees is Kurt’s jaw move, hears the quiet of his voice, but he can’t make out exactly what he says.
"What?" It’s Rachel who asks it, though it seems more out of surprise than not having heard him.
"I’ve never kissed anyone," Kurt says, louder, like it’s been drug out of him.
There’s a pause, and then Santana throws her head back and cackles.
"Still?" Mercedes asks, and Kurt shrugs at her, jaw dropped.
"Who am I supposed to kiss, the CPR dummy in health class? Cause it seems to me like that’s the only action I’ll get right now."
"Download Grindr," Santana squeaks out on a laugh, and Kurt gives her a look before grabbed a pillow and wapping her in the side of the head with it.
"You’re a terrible drunk, all you do is make fun of people and cry."
"Have you never met another gay guy before?" Tina asks, a sad furrow in her brows.
"I have. I’ve tried- going to bars and stuff." Kurt hunches his shoulders, rubs his hand along his forearm. "It made me uncomfortable."
Rachel pouts a frown at Kurt, then leans her head on his shoulder. Even Santana looks sobered, blinking slowly at Kurt as the smile leaves her face.
"I want to, though. Kiss someone." He lays his head gently atop Rachel’s. "I want it a lot."
The atmosphere of the room has shifted, all of the energetic air gone. Blaine can feel the tiredness on his skin and in his eyes, but he scarcely blinks.
Brittany is the one to break the silence, a sincere little, “I’ll kiss you, Kurt,” in her serene voice and, suddenly, everyone’s laughing again, aww-ing when Brittany and Kurt lean into the center of the circle and she kisses his cheek.
Blaine’s limbs feel jittery as he climbs to his feet, scaling the stairs as fast as he dares. He needs to get to his room and, if he’s still awake, talk to Sam about something.
This could be it. The picture in his mind is vivid and nearly real enough to touch.
Oh, this could be it.
*
"Okay, say that again, but slower this time," Sam says. His hair is a rumpled mess, his eyes and voice groggy and muddled with sleep.
Blaine does feel a bit guilty for waking him, but this is important. He needs a second opinion.
"Once all the girls are asleep, I’m going to go downstairs and sees if Kurt will kiss me."
"While he’s asleep?"
Rolling his eyes, Blaine halts his pacing to swing around to Sam, who’s curled up on his side under a pile of blankets.
“No, of course not, that would be immoral and- really creepy.” Blaine shakes the thought of it out of his head before he continues, “I’m going to ask Kurt if he wants to kiss me and, well, hopefully he’ll say yes.”
Blaine waits for Sam’s response, but his friend only blinks at him, eyes squinted and void of any strong feeling one way or another.
"What if he says no?"
Blaine grimaces. “Then- I’ll come back upstairs.”
"It’ll break you, dude."
"It won’t break me, what are you-“
"You’ve been all about him for months," Sam says, his voice losing the raspy, tired quality, but still staying calmly low. "You stalked him for three and a half hours just now, man, I just. I wouldn’t do it, if I were you. It’s a long shot."
Blaine crosses his arms, stares at his friend as he contemplates. All he can focus on, though, is his indignation at Sam’s chosen words. I am not a stalker, thank you very much.
"I know it’s a little risky, but when will this opportunity ever come up again?"
"Okay, then, say you do sneak down and you do talk to Kurt — what are you going to say? ‘I was eavesdropping on you guys all evening and I heard that you wanted to make out, so here I am.’" Sam says, curling the blanket further under his chin. "You’ll just freak him out."
You’ll just freak him out. The look on Kurt’s face when Blaine does appear, shocked and guarded in the dark. The way his eyebrows will crinkle, the way his blue eyes will become steely-hard gray. The angry sound of his voice calling, "Rachel, your little brother’s down here being a creep."
Creep
creep
creep.
Blaine bites his lip. He resumes pacing, watching his bare feet as they hit the dark hardwood floor.
“I want to, though.”
He sounded so lonely.
“Kiss someone.”
Would Blaine be brave for this? Or would he just be using (manipulating, oh god) his crush’s desperation?
“I want it a lot.”
I do, too.
"I have to try," Blaine says, glancing one more time at Sam to see him close his eyes, dropping a lofty "whatever".
Then Blaine turns to his closet. He’s not going to dress to the nines, but he should grab a cardigan to go over the short sleeves of his pajama shirt. The house does get pretty cold at night.
*
Blaine goes by what he knows from sleepovers past and starts his journey back to the basement at around four-thirty. The dark of the house swims in his vision, spooking him with things that aren’t there. He can see through the front window that the sky is a pinch lighter. There’s a sense of unreality, the sights in front of him and the silence surrounding him paper-thin and fragile as he lets his muscle memory guide him to the basement door.
Every step and creak feels amplified, and he almost considers turning back, too worried of waking up the whole house. It feels like eons have passed by the time he makes it to the platform before the final set of stairs, but once he’s there, he looks out at the room. A blueish glow is cast from the wall-mounted TV, and though he can’t tell which lump is who, he can see Kurt, stretched out along the couch positioned parallel to the TV.
He looks so- comfy. It’s the only way Blaine can think to describe him, with his matching pajama set and his ruffled thick hair and the TV’s light bouncing off of him like an aura. Blaine wants to curl up beside him, wrap himself around him on the narrow couch, and sleep — oh, sleep, what a beautiful thought.
Blaine walks the temptation off, his heart starting to race with each step closer to Kurt.
It feels like it’s too soon when he kneels down next to Kurt, close enough to see his eyelids flicker, to hear the heavy evenness of his breath as he sleeps. Again, he thinks about forgoing the plan, too enamored with how peaceful he looks.
Just one nudge, Blaine thinks. Just one nudge and if he doesn’t wake up, I’ll go.
His hand closes around the curve of Kurt’s shoulder, squeezing lightly as he rocks it in his hand. He whispers his name, barely loud enough to be called a sound.
With a sharp intake of breath, Kurt’s eyes pop open, wild before they focus.
Kurt grumbles a confused little sound, says, “Blaine? Wha’der you doing here?” a little too loudly for Blaine’s taste. He shushes him, rubbing at Kurt’s shoulder until he notices him looking down at his hand and yanks it back, face warm.
"Is everything alright?" Kurt asks, his voice throaty and a fraction more hushed.
Blaine nods. “Yep, everything is a-okay.” Shut up, you moron, oh my god. “I just- needed to ask you something.”
"Do you need me to get Rachel? I think asleep she’s on the stage, if you want to-"
"No, no, it has nothing to do with Rachel," Blaine whispers, fingers twisting together in his lap as he tries to keep from fidgeting. "Just you."
The crease between Kurt’s brows deepens. He lifts up on his elbow, angled slightly toward Blaine, and it makes Blaine’s breath catch in his throat.
"Oh, okay. Well." He pauses to yawn into the back of his hand, then pulls that hand through his hair. Blaine can’t stop watching it. "Go ahead, then, I suppose."
Blaine takes a steadying breath, then looks Kurt in the eyes. His mouth dries at the hint of warmth there; whether it’s left from good dreams or all for Blaine, it’s still a lovely sight.
He swallows, then says, “Well, I- I just wanted to tell you that, for a few months now — quite a few, actually — I’ve really liked you. Like, a lot. And- I’m tired of hiding it, and I’m tired of being scared of what you’ll say. Because I do like you and-” He chews on his lip for a moment. His hands shake and he clasps them tighter. “I would really like to kiss you. If you wanted to.”
His pulse closes his throat, aching with the strain of whispering so much. He feels dizzy as he confesses, so dizzy that he realizes some seconds later that he needs to blink Kurt’s face into focus.
There’s shock there, in every corner of his eyes, but also a guarded quality, a reluctance that Blaine can place immediately.
Kurt breathes, “Oh, Blaine,” and he feels his heart shatter like glass.
"That’s- so sweet. Really, I’m so flattered, but- sweetheart, you’ve always been like a brother to me. I-" Kurt bites his lip, looks away for a moment. Blaine’s vision blurs as Kurt start to shake his head.
"Oh."
"I’m so sorry, Blaine. Please, don’t cry, I’m sorry." There is real sincerity in it, but it only makes the tears rush quicker, even as he tries to blink them away.
"Could you-" His words hitch on a noise that makes him press his lips together. He squeezes his eyes shut.
He feels dumb. He feels five.
Pull yourself together.
"What was that, Blaine sweetie?" Blaine starts at the gentle pressure on his shoulder, and he opens his eyes to find Kurt tilted closer, his hand touching Blaine, eyes locked on his.
He takes a moment to let the rattle in his lungs calm down, not wanting to speak too loudly. He just looks back at Kurt, still so enchanted by him, even as he’s being dismissed.
One last chance.
"Could you try?" Blaine asks, feeling as small as his voice.
Kurt doesn’t seem to understand, until he does, expression morphing into something tired. “Blaine-“
"Please? I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, if you don’t want to. Or if it’s not- good. I’ve just never kissed anyone before and- I’d like it to be you."
Kurt stares at him, the look on his face neutral to its core. Blaine can only guess at what is going on in his head, can only look back with his aching eyes rimmed in clumped eyelashes.
"How old are you again?"
"Fifteen."
Kurt nods, whispers, “Okay. Come here.”
His heart leaps into his throat and he almost asks Kurt to repeat himself. But he is turning further onto his side, closer to Blaine than he has been yet.
It feels beyond real, like maybe he had fallen asleep kneeling on the floor by the couch.
He feels the hand his on his shoulder squeezes, and it springs him into action. He leans in, eyes closing though he feels too nervous to have done so — what if he misses?
Kurt’s lips are soft when they touch his, gentle and open as they seal on Blaine’s. At first, neither of them move, just letting the press linger for what feels like so long, until Kurt adjusts his mouth, enclosing slowly on Blaine’s bottom lip.
It lights a fire in Blaine’s chest, powerful and burning hot. He rolls his face into Kurt’s, brings his hand up to hold Kurt’s jaw, as he move his lips. He hears the shocked breath in his ear, feels the long exhale on his cheek when Kurt jolts into motion. They kiss in earnest, now, the push-pull slow and tentative but solid enough for Blaine to forget the past few minutes ever happened.
When they part, it’s with a small sucking sound, and he shivers happily, a smile growing on his face. That was at least thirty seconds, probably even more than that. Not bad for a first time.
He’s just barely opened his eyes, is saying, “Oh. Oh, wow, I-” when the pressure of Kurt’s lips return, crushing and just this side off too rough and all movement. A surprised moan slips from Blaine’s throat, but he falls into it easily, holding Kurt’s face in his hands as he keeps up with him, kiss for kiss.
Any fantasy he had before this pales so spectacularly in comparison that he could laugh. Their teeth do clank, there is some misjudgment as they try to keep up and lead at the same time, but none of it is that bad. In fact, it’s the most wonderful thing he has ever felt.
The smile overtakes his mouth, and he lets Kurt continue to lay kisses on his lips, much too pleased to stop him.
With one last, long kiss, Kurt pulls away. Blaine opens his eyes to find Kurt staring back, blinking like he’s seeing the world for the first time. And Blaine feels much the same, everything looks so much brighter and defined now, like he’s been given a fresh gust of wind.
"That was amazing," Blaine says on a breath, still jogged.
A smile twitches onto Kurt’s lips. “Yeah. It was.”
From somewhere behind the couch, there’s a ripping-loud snore and Kurt flinches, eyes widening.
"You need to go, Blaine, now, now, go."
He takes the stairs without precaution, hears Kurt hiss a shhh at him when four steps in a row make a loud groaning sound.
Blaine can’t be bothered to care. He’s just had his first (and second!) kiss and, if he’s being honest, it felt like the beginning of several more to come.
*
He wakes up alone in his bed, perky streams of sunlight pouring through his window. There’s an exhausted itch in his eyes and his body feels like lead, but his mouth still pulls up into a smile when he remembers the dream he’d just woken from. Kneeling on the hard basement floor, kissing Kurt like nothing else mattered.
When he remembers that his dreams had been reality just a few hours ago, he has to cover his face, rolling over onto his front. He even giggles a bit, he feels so giddy.
It’d been more than he hoped for. Of course he’d hoped to kiss Kurt at all, but- it was so good, Kurt had to kiss him again. He kept kissing him even when all Blaine could do was smile and accept it. That doesn’t sound like a pity kiss to him, not by any stretch of the imagination.
He lays there and plays it over and over in his mind. He doesn’t think any deeper than that, too contented in his nest of blankets to care about what happens after he gets out of bed.
After a while, there’s a knock on his door before it swings open and Sam’s voice says, “Dude, it’s after noon, I actually wanna do stuff today.”
Blaine’s not here right now, leave a message, he thinks, starting another bout of giggles.
He hears the door close, followed by quick footsteps over to the bed. “So how’d it go?”
“Amazingly,” Blaine replies, turning over to grin up at Sam. “And you were worried.”
"How was I supposed to know he was into dudes appearing at his bedside? Did you give him the full Twilight experience and creep on him while he slept?”
Blaine throws his fist out of the covers to punch Sam’s arm, who only rubs the spot absently, smiling down at him.
He starts to haul himself up into a sitting position, but freezes when Sam asks, “So are you two a thing now?”
"Uh." Blaine shrugs, focuses on settling back into his pillows. "No. Well, I don’t really know for sure. We didn’t talk about that."
Sam squints at him, making him clamor to add, “But I got to kiss him, though! And that was the goal. So.”
"I thought the goal was to date him."
Blaine shrugs again, aware of how jittery he looks. He can’t stop blinking. “Well, it’s like I said, we didn’t get to talk. And besides, my sister would probably freak out if she knew we kissed at all, so-“
So this is enough.
He wants it to be enough, but he knows it’s not. There’s a new cavern in his heart, empty in a way that he can feel, growing with every second he’s not with Kurt. He wants to kiss him again, maybe wrap his arms around him next time, wants to feel Kurt’s heart pound beneath his palm. He wants to run his hands through his air and fall asleep with him. He wants to be with him, so much, too much for him to sit on it very long without feeling it howl in his chest.
It’s only been a minute since he had to think it over, maybe two, and the memory of their kisses is already losing its lustrous glow. He is tapped of that sugar-high and left with a craving.
"He’s still here." He looks over at Sam, who shrugs. "Just try talking to him."
"What if he doesn’t want to talk about it?"
Sam pulls a face as he shrugs again. “Then screw him. You might be Rachel’s kid brother, but you’re not just some kid. You deserve better than that.”
Blaine looks down at the comforter, traces the wrinkles in it. It makes sense, but could he actually apply that advice?
"You don’t even know that he won’t talk to you, though."
"That’s true."
“So stop being a scaredy cat and get up! C’mon, up and at ‘em, rise and shine, let’s go!”
Blaine starts to laugh, letting Sam pull him by the arm until he’s tripping onto the floor.
"It’s game day!"
“Sam, Sam, relax-!”
"Blaine?"
They both freeze midway to the door, Sam still gripping Blaine’s arm.
Kurt stands in the doorway, dressed and ready for the day, instantly making Blaine feel like an ungainly mess. He doesn’t even know what his hair look like right now and prays that Kurt can appreciate the authenticity of his just-rolled-out-of-bed look.
"Kurt," Blaine says, and he blushes at the breathiness in it, so he clears his throat and tries again. "Kurt, hey."
"I thought I heard your voice," he says, then smirks, his eyes shifting over to Sam. "Or, rather, I heard Sam yelling, but I didn’t think he was talking to himself."
"You never know, man," Sam replies, and he finally drops hiss arm once Blaine starts tugging it back.
Kurt nods, hmms, then looks back at Blaine. “Anyway, I’ve been waiting on you to wake up. I think we need to talk about some things.”
"Okay."
Nothing happens for a moment, like everything is suspended in time, before Blaine notices Kurt staring at Sam, then turns to look at him himself.
Sam looks back and forth between Blaine and Kurt, until the realization lights up on his face.
"Oh! Okay, I’m going, I’m going. You don’t need to break bad on me."
With a parting pat on Blaine’s shoulder, he walks away. Kurt steps into the room, moving to let Sam pass.
Kurt closes the door, turning around to face Blaine with a look Blaine can’t decide upon. He seems cautious, only taking small and slow steps toward him, but the wide of his eyes makes Blaine feel pinned.
"That was my first kiss, too. Last night."
Blaine- blinks, doesn’t know how to react because his real first reaction is I know, which isn’t really the best path to lead them down. Instead, he raises his eyebrows, tries to appear surprised and casual at the same time.
He still feels like he’s used Kurt somehow, played his feelings like a song he didn’t bother to learn the words to. Sam’s right, he did stalk him, he did make it weird, all because he couldn’t face him full-on from the start. In the end, he did, but only when he was bolstered with Kurt’s insecurities. The guilt rises like bile; he feels grimy being alone with him, and it’s his own fault.
"Blaine?"
He focuses back in on Kurt, on the pinch of his eyes as they run over Blaine’s face. Blaine might feel some regret, but Kurt knows nothing of it. And even if that only aids in Blaine’s discomfort, there’s nothing stopping him from being upfront now.
So, he goes with another truth, says, “Sorry, I’m just- surprised. I thought you’d have a boyfriend or something, you’re just-“
Blaine bites his cheek, curbs himself before he goes too far.
"Just what?" Kurt asks, and if Blaine isn’t mistaken, there’s a tremor there, a minute upturn on his lips.
He feels the heat in his own face as he says, “You’re just- so gorgeous. I can’t imagine you being single for very long.”
Kurt rolls his eyes. “More proof that it’s this town and not just me.”
"Oh, absolutely."
"Same goes for you." He’s turning a little, absently, from the waist up, back and forth; arms crossed against his body; and he smiles when he sees Blaine’s mouth has dropped open. "I meant it when I said you were like a brother to me, but also mean it when I tell my girl friends that anyone would be lucky to have them. Same goes for you."
He feels the laughter bubble in his chest and escape one at a time as his eyes dart away and around the room. He has to press his lips together to look back at Kurt, who is now walking closer.
"So. I was like a brother?” Blaine asks. He can’t let that phrasing go, not a snowball’s chance in hell would he let that slide.
Kurt sighs, looking off to the corner of the room. “Looks like you’ve caught me.”
Blaine smiles so hard, it hurts his cheeks. Truth be told, this is the most he’s ever spoken to Kurt, one on one. Most of the time, Blaine’s just been around to listen to him talk to Rachel or their dads. Maybe if they keep going like this, Kurt will see him as more than what he thought he knew. And if it’s the kisses that did it, then Blaine has plenty more in him and is willing to show him all he wants to know.
He reigns in his smile, though, puts on the same affected air that Kurt is giving and says, “Well, then. What am I now? If I’m not longer like a brother to you.”
Kurt bites his lip, and Blaine sees the pink in his cheeks appear as the play seeps away and is replaced with something a touch realer.
"We’ll need to talk to Rachel. I’m not quite sure when we should do that, but- we can work that out later. Right now, though, I-" Kurt breathes a laugh, then straightens his shoulders as he says, "I would like to try."
His breath leaves him in a rush. He stares at Kurt, wonderstruck, before his brain starts to catch up, letting him smile, laugh, even bounce on his toes a bit.
Wow. Wow.
"I- I’m so happy, I-" He shakes his head, covers his eyes before he drops his hands down again. "I want to hug you now."
Kurt snorts a laugh, then holds his arms out, letting Blaine wraps his arms around his shoulders before he holds him tight.
"You’re too much like Rachel, though, so that has to stop."
"Whatever you want, just keep hugging me."
Kurt’s arms squeeze around him, his chin settling on Blaine’s shoulder.
"Of course."