A/N: A short one today, and I'm sorry for the wait. But there will probably be another chapter later this week.
A long time ago (really, it felt like another lifetime now), during his desperate, hopeless crush on Finn, Kurt entertained a secret fantasy about his first date. The details changed every now and then – his outfits alone were different every time – but the main elements stayed the same. He'd known perfectly well how it would go if Finn Hudson ever realized he liked Kurt and asked him out on a date.
He would turn up on Kurt's doorstep with a dozen red roses. They would go to Breadstix, where they'd have a wonderful time getting to really know each other, discovering shared experiences and interests in the process. By the end of the meal, Finn would take Kurt's hand over the table, declaring that he didn't care who saw, he was not ashamed of being on a date with the boy he was in love with (of course). They would share the tiramisu and then, still holding hands, they'd go to the theater. In the middle of some deep, emotional movie, Finn would casually put his arm around Kurt's shoulders. They would drive back home afterwards, discussing the artistic value and existential meaning of what they'd watched, and then, at Kurt's front door, Finn would kiss him goodnight, a chaste peck on the lips that would leave them both swooning.
A year later, Kurt still blushed a furious shade of red at the memory.
The reality of Kurt's first date was a bit different from what he'd dreamed back then.
That Sunday afternoon Blaine came to pick him up with a lovely bouquet of pink and purple tulips, wearing a smile that was almost shy and a sparkle in his eyes when he told Kurt he looked amazing. They went to a cozy restaurant on the outskirts of Lima, and didn't need to discover things they shared because they'd known them for a long time. The conversation was easy and two hours passed in a blink, and there was green tea cheesecake instead of tiramisu. They didn't hold hands because it was still Ohio and while bravery was a great quality, getting to eat in peace and leave the place undisturbed was better. And besides, the look in Blaine's eyes as he looked at Kurt, so new and yet somehow so familiar, felt like a hug even when they didn't touch.
They went to see Love Story at the revival theater afterwards, a movie they both knew so well they could quote the dialogue. Could, but didn't, because the movie turned out to be background only, sweetly familiar as they sat in the safe darkness and dared. It felt like a dare to Kurt, like a leap of faith, to take Blaine's hand waiting so innocently between them – take it and hope he hadn't read the signals wrong.
The warmth of their touch was different this time, not so sudden and explosive, more like contented humming running through Kurt's whole body, as if his skin and blood and heart recognized this boy now and greeted him with a smile. Blaine's hand slid into his like it belonged there, their fingers intertwining, and then Blaine's thumb was tracing simple patterns over the back of Kurt's hand, feather-light and so warm, and it was–
It was perfect bliss.
The movie finished eventually – that was probably inevitable, though Kurt would be absolutely content to just sit like this for a few more hours, marveling over the miracle that was skin, with its countless nerve endings feeding pure, undiluted pleasure right to his brain. But that was it, the lights were back on and it was time to take his hand away, get up and go, back to the car, and back home.
The fact that Blaine looked about as flushed and dazed as Kurt felt was a bit of a consolation.
"Why now?" he couldn't help himself as they pulled over in front of the house. Yesterday, after the phone call, he'd told himself not to ask, not to question a good thing, but it had been sitting on his tongue all evening, a grain of doubt like ash.
Blaine made an inquiring little sound and looked at him, so beautiful – so everything – and Kurt had to swallow and blink a few times before he remembered what he was saying.
"The date. I loved it, but... why now, when you've never seen me as anything more than a friend before?"
"Oh Kurt." Blaine chuckled quietly, a soft, incredulous sound in the darkness. "I've always hoped you'd be more than my friend. From the very first day. You didn't notice?"
Well that was not an answer he expected. "No? Of course not, you never said anything and... But... Jeremiah?"
Blaine shifted, looked away. "Jeremiah was a distraction. I couldn't have you so I tried–"
"Why? Why did you think you couldn't have me? Because you could, you know. Even months ago." God, all this time. He couldn't believe it.
"I... really? I was sure that after what you went through, after Karofsky, and your dad, and changing schools, the last thing you needed was... I was just trying to be a good friend." Blaine sighed and shook his head. "I should have asked, shouldn't I?"
"That might have been useful, yes."
"Wow. I really am clueless." Blaine stared through the windshield for a moment, hands clenched on the steering wheel. When he turned back to Kurt, there was something open and vulnerable in his face, his voice soft. "Look, Kurt. I don't know what I'm doing. I pretend like I do and I know how to act it out in song, but the truth is... I've never really been anyone's boyfriend."
Kurt smiled. "Me neither."
There was a question hanging in the air, somewhere on the brink of falling – and then Kurt's telephone beeped with an alarm, signaling his curfew.
Blaine walked him to the door in silence, their hands brushing against each other with every step. They stopped on the porch, face to face in the warm light and Kurt's heart was pounding, an excited gallop of anticipation.
"Thank you for tonight, Blaine. It was wonderful."
"No, thank you. Do you think we could do it again some time soon?"
"I'd love that."
And then the moment was there, Blaine was leaning in, slow and careful, and Kurt's breath turned shallow. Ready – he was so ready. His eyes slid shut. He could feel Blaine's breath ghost over his lips –
The soft kiss on the cheek was a shock.
Without a conscious decision, he reached to keep Blaine close, one hand gently on the back on his neck, and turned his head to meet Blaine's lips.
It wasn't Blaine's first kiss, but it was Kurt's, at least the first one that truly counted, and Blaine had been fully prepared to wait, go slow, not force anything, no matter how much Kurt's lips tempted him with every word, every smile and every bite of food tonight. The fact that Kurt had no intention to wait and didn't hesitate to take control to get what he wanted made him go weak in the knees.
Kurt tasted like cherries and sunshine and happiness, and the few seconds of his lips pressing softly against Blaine's were enough to make Blaine an addict for life.
He chased Kurt's mouth when he pulled away, a small whine escaping him like a wordless plea, and Kurt gave in immediately. He was bolder already, pressing in almost hungrily, with his hand on Blaine's cheek to angle him just-so. And then Kurt's lips were parting, his tongue brushing across Blaine's lower lip before dipping shallowly into his mouth and honestly, why had no one ever told Blaine that kissing could feel like this? Because really. He'd never gotten so hard and desperate so fast, not ever. And yet, he felt no need to do anything about it. He'd be perfectly happy to just stand there with Kurt, kissing for the rest of the night. Judging by the contented little sounds Kurt was letting out with every slide of Blaine's tongue, he wouldn't be opposed to it, either.
The porch light flickered suddenly, a quick sequence of on-off-on-off-on, and Kurt gasped and pulled away.
"Oh god, my dad. I've gotta go. But... see you at school in the morning?"
"Definitely. I'll be early."
"Me too." With a last quick kiss Kurt opened the door and went inside, and Blaine nearly danced back to his car, grinning so hard his face hurt. He didn't care.
Kurt kissed him. Kurt wanted him.
God, he was so in love.