I write so I don't stab people

Etched Into My Skin - chapter 19

2013-05-07T21:14:25Z

CHAPTER 19

Barely three days in, Kurt's senior year was already shaping up to be terrible, making the bubbly, relaxed feeling summer left him with a distant memory.

It wasn't just the fact that he and Blaine were in different schools, either. It was... everything, really. Everything was wrong.

Once again, they were a few members short in the Glee club, so the usual hunt for anyone with semi-functioning vocal chords began. It ended in a massive food fight when Rachel had a brilliant idea to do a number in the school cafeteria in order to lure any interested students in with a promise of fun.

Kurt's clothes would never recover. And the only new member they got out of the ordeal, Sugar Motta, was completely devoid of any musical talent and very possibly batshit crazy. Still, to everyone's surprise, Mr. Schue let her in, which meant he was either that desperate, or so affected by his private drama that he didn't care about the Glee club at all.

It only took them a day to find out the reason for their director's unusually sharp, snappy attitude. The beautiful smooth script adorning the front of Ms. Pillsbury's neck like a necklace was impossible to miss. Large brown letters spelled Carl Howell, and if anyone had any doubt their school counselor had found her soulmate over the summer, it was easily dispelled during lunch hour, when the glass walls of her office revealed her once-husband feeding her fruit with a smitten look on his face. Clearly the magic of the marks had helped to resolve any differences they might have had in the past, as evidenced by Ms. Pillsbury's radiant smiles. Rumor had it they were already planning another, proper wedding over Christmas.

She wasn't the only one who'd gotten her mark during the summer. Apart from Rachel, who kept her nose up and the name she found secret (which didn't stop her from babbling about her experience to anyone who didn't run fast enough), there were several other people at McKinley who sported fresh marks. Jacob Ben Israel spent the first two days of school running around, sticking his microphone in people's faces and asking them what they thought of the soulmates issue and if they had something new to share. Which, of course, only deepened Kurt's foul mood because as much as he'd love to show off Blaine's name, they were still keeping their marks a secret. At least he kept his cool and didn't go all berserk when he heard the word soulmates, like Finn did.

It was safe to say Finn wasn't a fan of the concept.

The other big topic in those first days of school was college plans, which really didn't make Kurt feel any better. He'd made his decision. He was fine with his decision. Really, he was. But the thought of explaining it to his friends just gave him a headache, so he didn't say anything, claiming he still wasn't sure. It was enough that Rachel made him feel like shit with her impassioned speech about how he would be a coward, not to mention ruin her perfect New York plans, if he changed his mind now. It took a lot of self-control not to yell at her in all of her self-important indignity and remind her that not everything was about her.

The funny thing was, if Kurt only said he was waiting a year so that he could go to New York with his soulmate, everyone would understand and applaud, like they did for Tina and Mike. Changing your plans for your soulmate was perceived as romantic and right. Changing them for a boyfriend or a girlfriend? Stupid, immature and irresponsible.

Kurt didn't even want to think about what his father would say about it. But this conversation could wait a little longer. He really wasn't looking forward to it.

The icing on the cake of this week was Blaine's behavior. Kurt had known they would have much less time for each other once classes started. But it was the very beginning of the year, there wasn't much homework yet and the after-school activities were only just starting, and already Blaine seemed to be busier than ever. He hadn't been able to meet Kurt at all the first day of school, claiming he was running errands with his mom, and then yesterday he'd only managed to squeeze a quick coffee at the Lima Bean into his schedule. Plus, he'd acted weird, all jittery and excited for no apparent reason. If Kurt didn't know better, he'd think Blaine was hiding something from him.

Wait, did he actually know better? Blaine talked to him about everything, right? At least Kurt had thought he did.

Oh great. Like he needed that thought on top of everything.

More frustrated than ever, he finished fixing his hair and was taking out the book he needed for his next class when a very familiar voice came from a few feet away.

"Hey you."

Kurt stared.

Late that night, already in bed with the lights switched off, Kurt still had trouble believing that any of it had actually happened. Blaine finding him at school in the middle of the day, looking all casual and gorgeous, to tell him that he'd just transferred. Blaine's performance/audition in McKinley's courtyard. Their conversation in Kurt's room after school, when he'd learned all about Mrs. Anderson's change of heart.

Not only could they come out with their marks now; they would see each other at school every day, sing and dance together at Glee, have time – so much time, for normal, everyday boyfriend things, without struggling to meet every afternoon despite distance and school work.

Kurt couldn't be happier – and yet, he found himself unable to fall asleep. It all felt too good to be true, and so unexpected – what if he woke up in the morning only to realize it was all a dream? Only hesitating for a moment because of the late hour, he picked up his phone from the bedside table. Blaine answered on the first ring, sounding barely awake, and Kurt let out the words in a single breath.

"Please promise me you will really be there in the morning."

Blaine chuckled, the sound warm like a soft blanket. "I promise. I'll be at your locker half an hour before classes, coffee in hand."

Kurt breathed out, more loose and relaxed already. "Actually, that only makes you sound more like a dream."

"Get some sleep, Kurt. It's not a dream, I'll be there. I love you."

"I love you too, dream boy."

They hadn't planned how they would come out, not yet. Now that Kurt knew they could reveal their marks whenever they chose, it lost the desperate urgency he had felt before. It was their decision, theirs to plan and enjoy, and Blaine had already said that he would be glad to do it any way Kurt wished – he was just happy not to hide how lucky they were anymore.

So Kurt decided to take his time, no matter how excited he felt at the prospect. A few days more wouldn't change anything, and he wanted the moment to be just right – nothing too flashy or dramatic, but noticeable enough. Merely telling someone and waiting for the rumor mill to pick it up wouldn't do. Kurt wanted strategy.

The inspiration came on Monday, after Mr. Schue ordered half of the Glee club into mandatory booty camp to improve their dancing skills. As offended as Kurt felt by the implication that his dance moves weren't good enough, he couldn't help but bounce a little. He'd have to plan out the details once he got home, but he had an idea and it was perfect.

***

Blaine survived the few days it took for his transfer to be official, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Not revealing his surprise to Kurt before the time came was possibly one of the most difficult acting exercises he'd ever done, and there were a few times when he was sure he would burst with it. But the look of stunned disbelief on Kurt's face was worth every minute of holding back, and the surprise performance felt like an amazing beginning to the new chapter in Blaine's high school education. And now they were at school together again, and Blaine still couldn't believe it. He kept glancing at Kurt in the choir room, searching him out in the hallways during every break, full to the brim with warm, happy feelings, so much so that he forgot to be anxious at all.

Well... okay, there were a few tiny dark clouds in the perfect sky of his post-transfer life. Rachel insinuating that Blaine was a Warblers spy. Finn getting sulky and snappy after Blaine's – perhaps a tad too excited – welcome speech. Some of the others eyeing him with confused distrust. Overall, he was not met with as much enthusiasm as he'd imagined. It turned out getting along great with a group of people in casual circumstances didn't automatically mean being greeted with open arms when you decided to join them permanently.

But that was fine. Blaine would just have to prove himself as a valuable addition to New Directions. Which shouldn't be a problem, he was a master of proving himself and fitting expectations. It was only a matter of time until everything was smooth and friendly again.

And all that paled in the light of having his soulmate by his side, anyway. Especially now that they were about to officially reveal their marks. Blaine didn't know all the details – Kurt only told him it would be tomorrow – but he could barely contain his excitement and curiosity. Knowing Kurt, it would be big.

Blaine spent the whole day on pins and needles, waiting for that moment. Kurt had only smiled mysteriously and told him to be patient when he had asked, so Blaine's heart sped up every time Kurt went over to talk to somebody during the day. He almost grabbed Kurt's hand when he saw Jacob coming towards them with his cameraman, but they passed without a word, trailing after one of the Cheerios.

Later, in Glee, when Kurt put his hand up, Blaine thought he would jump out of his skin. This had to be it, it made perfect sense to announce it here first, among friends. Except... Kurt only told everyone that he'd decided he would be running for senior class president. Which was the first time Blaine heard about it, and he would definitely have to ask because hey, shouldn't he be the first to know? But that was not the point.

The point was, the day was almost over and still no one knew.

He caught up with Kurt as they were leaving the choir room after practice.

"Kurt–"

"Shh, trust me."

"But–"

"I promise, soon." Kurt smiled mischievously and quickly squeezed Blaine's hand in the empty corridor.

They were walking towards the auditorium for the first booty camp and Blaine sulked a little as he trailed after his boyfriend. He knew it was his fault they'd even waited so long, but now that they didn't have to hide anymore, he couldn't wait to look everyone in the eye and proudly say: this is my soulmate.

With only the relative privacy of the backstage serving as changing rooms, everyone scattered between corners and curtained-off nooks to change into exercise clothes. Blaine found his own empty spot and quickly pulled on his sweatpants and t-shirt before going to find Kurt.

He was on the stage already, talking with Mike, and Blaine joined them to wait for everyone else. There was only a handful of people besides them – Finn, Puck, Mercedes, Sugar and Quinn – but the girls seemed to need forever to get ready, so Blaine took the opportunity to ogle Kurt a little. It wasn't that often that he got to see his boyfriend so casual, after all. Black, form-fitting yoga pants paired with a zipped-up black-and-white hoodie made Kurt look younger somehow, less guarded, and at the same time accentuated certain areas of his body in a way that made Blaine's mouth water and his mind frantically calculate how much time alone they could get afterwards before Kurt's dad came from the garage.

Well, at this rate they wouldn't leave here until dinnertime.

Finally, everyone was accounted for and ready (if not particularly happy to be here), and Mr. Schue clapped his hands to get their attention.

"Okay, so now that you've all decided to grace us with your presence at last, let's start. And just so you know, starting tomorrow, every five minutes of delay adds half an hour to the class. Warm up."

Blaine rolled his eyes as soon as the teacher turned his back. Frankly, he'd never had much heart or respect for Mr. Schue – just knowing that the man had been at least partially aware of Kurt's bullying problem last year and did nothing to effectively stop it was enough for Blaine to dislike him because, damn it, he was an adult and a teacher. Mr. Schue's attitude since Blaine had joined the New Directions did nothing to warm him towards the man, and neither did his first Spanish lesson on Friday. Blaine wasn't by any means a master of the language, but after a year at Dalton he was proficient enough to wince every other time Mr. Schue said something in class or read an excerpt from their textbook.

Beside him, movement caught Blaine's attention – Kurt was quickly unzipping his hoodie before skipping to the nearest chair to put it away. It was warm in the auditorium.

But then Kurt turned around and returned to his place, light on his feet and focused on Mike up front, already explaining the warm-up sequence, and Blaine – gasped.

He wasn't the only one to notice. Mercedes' shrill squeal got everyone's attention instantly.

"Kurt Hummel! Is that what I think it is?"

Kurt looked down where her finger was pointing, the mark perfectly displayed thanks to the wide neck of his striped tank top, and he shrugged, grinning just a little.

"Oh. Yeah, of course it is."

The next few minutes were a little bit of a pandemonium – most everyone gathered around Kurt to have a look, then turning to Blaine, asking, exclaiming, congratulating. He had to lift his t-shirt to show his own mark, which he did gladly, excited, giddy, a little drunk on the moment finally being here and on Kurt's proud smile. In the happy chaos, it took him a while to notice Finn stalking away with a stormy expression, just before Mr. Schue's sharp voice cut through the noise.

"Do I need to remind you all that the later we start, the longer you're going to be here? Back to positions, everyone. And Kurt, put on something more covering."

Kurt looked at Mr. Schue defiantly. "Why? Do I show too much cleavage?"

"You're distracting the others." The teacher's jaw was clenched, the vein in his neck pulsing.

Kurt arched his eyebrow. "Really. I can almost see Sugar's nipples from here, but I'm distracting." Sugar grinned and jiggled her breasts at them. Puck whistled. Mr. Schue looked like he wanted to yell at them, but eventually turned his back and growled.

"On three."

The practice was strenuous to the point of cruelty. By the end of it every single one of them was streaming with sweat, their legs unstable and muscles screaming. Mercedes had cried and refused to go on halfway through it. Finn had kicked a note-stand and stormed out not much later, after failing to recreate a complicated dance routine yet again. Mr. Schue called them lazy more than once.

Blaine had another problem though – one that earned him a more permanent place in the booty camp though he'd initially came as a volunteer. His blunders and utter distractedness ruined every favorable impression Mr. Schue and Mike had had about his skills as a dancer, but Blaine really couldn't help it. He couldn't control his reactions no matter how he tried. Because it turned out that seeing Kurt's mark displayed like that in public was a huge thing for Blaine.

Not just a turn-on, either. Every time he saw it, so clear against Kurt's pale skin, so out there, his, his name, a jolt of something raw and primal ran through Blaine's body, turning his thoughts into a jumble of incoherent, animalistic growls. All through the practice he'd had to fight with the need to get closer to Kurt, into his personal space, to touch him, to mark him and show everyone that this gorgeous, amazing boy was Blaine's.

As soon as they were backstage, he couldn't hold back any longer. Grabbing Kurt's hand, he pulled him into a secluded nook behind a curtain and into a deep, desperate kiss before Kurt could say a word. He lingered on Kurt's lips only for a moment, though, before kissing and nipping down the salty slope of his neck and over, finally, to the mark. Blaine felt a little wild with it, the skin seemed electric under his lips and it was still not enough, he needed more, needed everyone to see–

"Blaine." It was a half-moan from Kurt's mouth and Blaine grazed the hard ridge of his collarbone, sucked at the smooth skin. "Blaine!"

Kurt gently pushed him away and Blaine swayed a little, startled out of his trance-like state. Before his eyes, the skin over and around his name was reddened from his ministrations. Kurt was staring at him, clearly surprised.

"What was this?"

"I... I don't know, I just – you're mine."

"Of course I am, but why the sudden need to devour me, especially when I'm all sweaty and gross?"

Blaine shrugged. He could feel his cheek start to burn with more than exertion. "I don't know, I just... seeing your mark in public apparently makes me go crazy possessive."

Kurt arched his eyebrow. "Oh. Interesting." He looked at Blaine for a moment, a look of calculation on his face. "Hm, how about we go to my house and take a quick shower, together if there's no one there yet, and then you can commence marking me however you want as long as it's not in visible places? I still have plans for tomorrow that involve showing off your name."

Blaine just growled and rushed to get his bag, ready to go.

***

Kurt checked his reflection in the mirror before getting out of his car the next morning. Everything seemed to be in perfect order – his hair was flawless, the single tiny hickey left accidentally on his neck last night well covered up, and the zippers on the shoulders of his sweater opened just enough to give everyone a peek of the black undershirt – and the perfect view of his mark. Satisfied, Kurt grabbed his bag and strutted towards the school, where Blaine was undoubtedly waiting by his locker already.

Oh, it was going to be an great day. Not even Finn's silent sulkiness was going to spoil it.

Rachel intercepted him as soon as he walked through the door, pulling him to the side despite his protests and immediately pushing into his personal space, reaching out to touch his collarbone.

"So it's true then."

He batted her hand away with a disbelieving frown. There was only one person allowed to touch.

She didn't look discouraged, just hurt. "I couldn't believe it when Mercedes called me last night, I thought I'd be the first to know if it happened, but apparently you've had it for months and you never said a word? How could you, Kurt? We had plans, and this changes everything, will you even go to New York now? Oh god, I need a back-up plan, I have to find a new roommate, you should have told me months ago, Kurt!"

Kurt ground his teeth so hard it hurt in an effort not to lash out.

"Believe it or not, Rachel, but not everything is about you. There was a reason no one knew until now."

"Mike knew!" She snapped.

"Yes, from Tina, who knew because she guessed. And my parents. And that was it. And I don't have to apologize to you for how I lead my life." He turned to walk away, his buoyant mood somewhat ruined.

"But I'm your best friend!" She called out behind him. He didn't stop. He wasn't even sure if it was still true.

Just as Kurt thought, the news had already spread through the school and there were whispers and curious glances around him as he walked to his locker. Blaine's smile was dazzling, clearly visible from afar, but as Kurt came closer, it changed into something less innocent and more heated. Blaine's eyes were dark and intent by the time Kurt reached him, and Blaine's hand rose immediately to smooth a welcome over Kurt's exposed mark.

"Please tell me you know of a private place where we can disappear right now."

Kurt laughed softly. "Again? I thought it was just a reaction to the first time I showed off the mark."

Blaine shook his head and clutched the strap of his bag with both hands in a clear attempt to keep them away from Kurt. "I don't think so. It's like... I have a physical reaction to seeing it uncovered where other people can look at it. Can I press you against the lockers and ravish you, so that they all know you're mine?"

Kurt's breath quickened a little, but he kept his careful distance. It was McKinley. It wouldn't end well. "I think the fact that I'm basically signed as yours and everyone can see it will have to suffice for now, sorry."

Blaine groaned quietly, but nodded. "I know. But, for the record, I would."

They didn't have a chance to see more than a glimpse of each other during the next few hours, but by lunchtime, Kart had heard every possible version of "What does it feel like?", "When/How did it appear?", "Is the sex better now?" and "So gays can be soulmates too?" from friends and strangers alike. Reports from Tina revealed that Blaine had fared similarly. In general, most of the comments and reactions were nice and curious, no hostility. Even people he'd never spoken to smiled at him after spotting his mark.

Well, it was one more thing that made him stick out – even with more people sporting new marks after the summer, there were only three other matched couples at McKinley that he knew of. Kurt wondered how it would affect his chances in the elections.

Blaine was already waiting for him when Kurt went out of his last class before lunch, and Kurt didn't miss his barely-aborted lean in for a kiss. Suddenly emboldened, he did something he'd wanted to do from the moment Blaine transferred: he took his boyfriend's hand, right in the crowded hallway, to walk with him like all the other couples did. Such a simple thing, and yet, for them, so very special.

There were always going to be people who considered their relationship wrong or unnatural. And maybe even the marks wouldn't convince them otherwise, no matter how many more scientists admitted that the phenomenon did look like some sort of "natural selection of the most optimal partners". But even those few who looked at them with new eyes today were an improvement, a step forward in acceptance. And Kurt was done hiding, refraining from every tiny gesture than might be considered wrong by those who didn't like what they were. Sure, flaunting their affection in public was still a risky idea, considering where they lived, but he would hold hands with his boyfriend – his soulmate – if he wanted to, dammit. He would sit with him and touch his shoulder, and smile at him, real and intimate, instead of constantly being on lookout. And if he became the senior class president, he would do all that he could to make this school a safer place. For them, for others that were different, for everyone.

Courage, that was it. Starting here, now.

They were greeted with a few whistles and whoops when they got to the table occupied by the Glee members in the cafeteria, their hands swinging between them. Lunch was a joyous affair today, with jokes and teasing, and a guessing game about who in their little group would be the next person marked, and when, and with what name. Would there be more matched couples? With Sam and Lauren gone, and Rachel and Finn broken up, the only unmarked couple left (though they would deny being a couple, no matter what everyone knew) were Santana and Brittany.

The relaxed mood around the table shattered when Finn dropped his hamburger onto the tray with a scowl.

"Seriously, can't we talk about anything else? Soulmates and soulmates, it's like this is the only topic now."

Kurt arched his eyebrows. Finn had been in a bad mood since booty camp yesterday, avoiding him all evening and leaving early in the morning, but this was the first time he actually spoke about it.

"What's your problem, Finn?"

The full force of Finn's frown was now directed at Kurt and, by extension, Blaine sitting by his side.

"My problem is that apparently my own brother has had one of those stupid marks for over half a year and didn't even tell me."

"Finn, we kept it a secret because my parents–" Blaine was trying to placate him with his calm, rational voice, but Kurt already knew it would be no use. He was right.

"I'm not asking you, Blaine. I'm talking to my brother here, if you don't mind."

Kurt bristled. "Finn, I don't see why you're so angry about it, but whatever the reason–"

"Don't Finn me, Kurt. Sure I'm angry. Why shouldn't I be? First, I'm not a good enough boyfriend because I don't have the right name. Then your boyfriend transfers and immediately tries to take control and do things his way, like we're his precious Warblers–"

Next to Kurt, Blaine frowned. "What? I never–"

"– and now I learn I'm not even trustworthy enough to be told important things by my own family. So yeah, sorry, I'm a little bit annoyed." Kurt opened his mouth to say something, explain somehow, but Finn held up his hands. "No, Kurt, save it. I don't want to hear it." He grabbed his bag and stormed out, leaving his unfinished food.

There was uncomfortable silence around the table in the wake of Finn's exit. Santana was the first to recover.

"Well, that was awkward. I for one am really glad Prince Charming here joined us. More cute meat to ogle, and he sure can sing. His moves are much better than Franketeen's, too."

Somehow, no one felt in the mood to joke anymore. The rest of the meal passed in uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry about Finn. I'm sure he'll come around."

They were sitting in Lima Bean that afternoon, barely able to move after another exhausting round of booty camp. Finn had kept away from them all day after his earlier outburst, still clearly simmering, and Kurt couldn't stop thinking about his words, feeling increasingly guilty. Maybe they should have handled it differently, should have told him. Then again, Finn couldn't keep a secret if he tried.

Blaine shrugged, and winced when the move jostled his strained muscles. "It's okay. I just didn't realize I was doing anything wrong."

"You aren't. Finn's irrational, I don't know what bit him. No, okay, I do know, he's still not over Rachel, but it's not an excuse. Do you want me to talk to him?"

Blaine shook his head and swallowed some coffee. "No. I will do it myself in a few days if he's still mad. Anyway, I wanted to ask – Kurt, what's with the presidential stuff?"

Kurt blushed. "Oh, I've been meaning to talk to you about it, actually. I wanted to ask if you'd do me the honor of being my campaign manager. You could help me with phrasing my campaign, I would even let you design the posters, including taking the pictures if you wanted."

Blaine smiled. "Of course, I'll be glad to help, but I mean, what happened to make you run? I didn't even know you were interested in the school political stage."

"I didn't know either, to be honest." Kurt sighed. He couldn't talk about this without touching another subject that he'd hoped to postpone. Oh well. "I just. I've been thinking about college. I mean, I should get into Ohio State easily, but then next year when I apply to Julliard to go to New York with you? I don't have that many achievements, no extracurriculars except for Glee, and the competition there will be much harder. So I thought I should do what I can this year, while I still can. And besides winning Nationals, which I can't guarantee on my own, and starring in a school play, which I still hope to do if it works out this year, the presidency was the only thing I came up with. Plus, I believe I can really do some good for this school with the campaign I have. Let me tell you–"

"Kurt." Blaine said softly, touching his hand to stop his monologue. "Come on, you're not going to Ohio State."

Kurt expected discussion, but this? His jaw dropped a little. "But... I can't go to New York yet, not next year, not without you."

"You can't or you don't want to?"

"I... both? I want to go to New York – you know how much I do, but I don't want to leave you here, I can't–"

Blaine shook his head with a smile that was just this side of sad. "Sure you can. It will be hard, for both of us, but I don't want you to put your life on hold for me. We'll survive, it's only a school year. And there are weekends and holidays and breaks. We'll be fine."

Kurt felt his eyes prickle. God, he wanted New York. But not seeing Blaine every day? "But we're soulmates, we're not supposed to be apart!"

Blaine stroked the top of his hand with his thumb. "Why, because Tina says so? Come on, let us be the ones who decide what we are and aren't supposed to do with our relationship. These are our lives, our decisions. I wish you had talked to me about this, you know. Weren't we supposed to communicate?"

Kurt bit his lip. "I thought it would be easier if I just... decided."

Blaine squeezed his hand. "I know. But I want to be in on such big things that affect both of us. And I don't want you to sacrifice your dreams for me. Apply to Julliard, Kurt. Go and be amazing, and find all the best places to show me when I visit, and then a year later I will join you and we'll rent a tiny apartment together, and we'll make up for all the time apart, and we'll never separate for that long again. Okay?"

The tears were flowing now, but Kurt didn't even care. He had the best boyfriend in the world. "Okay."

INB drabble #4

2013-04-28T21:49:26Z

A/N: No prompt this time. This is a flashback to a time before INB plot takes place – specifically, the scene that this exchange between Sebastian and Kurt alluded to:

"Just... take care of yourself, okay? I don't want to have to scrape you off a New York sidewalk one day. I really prefer you in one piece."

Kurt just nodded. They'd never talked about that one night back when, and they would continue not to. But they both knew: sometimes, love was too much.

(It's Not Babysitting, chapter 18)

PG-13. Angst. Warning: a situation and mindset that may be interpreted as suicidal

-----------------------------------------------------

WHEN LOVE IS TOO MUCH

There are times in life when everything is going right, every piece of the puzzle seems to fit in perfectly at last. Then, sometimes, someone pulls the rug from beneath your feet, leaving you scrambling for purchase.

And that's fine; that's life.

But when the person that makes the ground crumble and the heavens fall is the same one that first put them there and built everything that makes up your safety net... sometimes it's too much.

With nothing to hold onto, falling seems only a matter of time.

***

Sebastian was worried.

Something was up with Kurt tonight. He was supposed to be out with James, picking the cake for their New Year's wedding, wrapping up the last details – and instead, he'd called Sebastian half an hour ago, asking if he had a free evening in that brittle voice of his that Sebastian had heard only a few times before. It never meant anything good.

Something was wrong.

He'd only had a few last things to finish before he could leave the office, so he'd offered drinks if Kurt came to pick him up. His place or a bar, he'd decide once he was able to measure Kurt's mood properly. Did he and James argue about wedding-related stuff again – with barely over three weeks left, Kurt had been turning into a groomzilla at times – or was something more serious going on?

Except Kurt should have been here at least ten minutes ago, and Sebastian couldn't help but worry. He picked up his phone.

The wind was whistling in the background when Kurt answered, his voice muffled.

"Hello?"

"Cupcake, weren't you supposed to be here by now? There's only so many times I can polish the partners' name tags before I get completely bored."

Kurt sounded... dreamy? "Oh, I'm here. I just went up to the roof and lost track of time. The view here is spectacular."

Something seized in Sebastian's throat, fear plucking at the tight strings of his nerves. "The roof? Kurt, are you crazy? It's December, and... no, okay, I'm coming to get you. And then I demand explanation, because–"

There was a steady beep of a signal in his ear. Kurt had hung up.

There are moments that, once encountered, stay with you forever, tattooed into your memory in indelible ink. Seeing Kurt – literally – on the ledge was definitely one of those.

Sebastian froze in the doorway, the vast expanse of the roof spreading before him. He didn't need details to know who that dark silhouette was at the far end, outlined sharply against the steel gray of the snowy sky. For a moment, he was unable to move because Kurt was just there, standing on the fucking wall, and god, if he startled him–

But he had to get there, had to pull this fool down, what was he doing?

He made his way across the roof on weak legs, as quietly as possible with the snow crunching under his feet, in a wide arch to enter Kurt's peripheral vision first. It took forever, but then Kurt turned his head to look at him, and Sebastian let out a shuddering breath he'd held for what felt like an age.

It was only a temporary relief.

Kurt's face was all wrong, blank and empty, pale as the snow, with his eyes huge and unblinking, and if Sebastian thought he'd been scared before, it was nothing to what he felt now. He approached slowly, his hand outstretched.

"Kurt, get down from there. It's cold and dangerous and–"

"He left me." Kurt's voice was barely audible against the wind, his eyes set down on the streets below again. He seemed not to notice Sebastian's hand at all.

Oh fuck.

"Kurt. Please come down, we'll talk here." He didn't like the panic rising audibly in his voice, didn't want to trigger Kurt into any rash reaction, but god, if it was true– James was Kurt's everything, unhealthily so, and Sebastian struggled to find the right thing to say. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding, you'll get it fixed in no time at all. He loves you, Kurt, come on."

"He took me to dinner and held my hand and said he's had doubts for months and he can't go through with this, that he can't see us together in five years." Kurt's voice was monotone, his face expressionless. "He called off the wedding."

He swayed suddenly, as if his knees were going to give way under the weight of his words, and Sebastian was certain his heart stopped for the few seconds it took Kurt to regain his balance on the slippery edge.

When he found his voice, it was rough, fractured.

"He's an idiot, then, not worth your time. And definitely not worth jumping off a skyscraper."

"I'm not jumping." Kurt sounded more distant by the minute. "It's just so peaceful here. I want to fall asleep and not have to think about it because everything hurts when I do. I want to slip and sink into this city. I want the world to stop."

"Kurt–" Sebastian had no idea what to say.

Kurt was clearly losing it. He'd never seen him like that, so far from okay. This was real, he was a danger to himself in this state and there was no one but them here, no one to help and fuck, what did one do when their best friend lost their mind from grief?

Sebastian had never felt so helpless before, and so keenly aware how dire the consequences of any wrong move could be.

Cursing under his breath, trying not to think of the forty floors of nothing but freezing air below them, he climbed up to kneel on the wall by Kurt's feet, reaching up to him.

"Kurt, please. It's not the end of the world, you've got me and Cooper, and your family, we'll help you, everything will be alright again, just. Please. Get down from there." He didn't even try to suppress the fear in his voice now.

Kurt ignored him in favor of leaning a little forward to look down. "Have you ever noticed how quiet it is here?" He asked conversationally.

Well of course it was. Sebastian didn't even want to know how high they were.

Kurt's foot slipped a little and he swayed again, harder this time.

It probably spoke a lot about how important Kurt was to him that Sebastian was standing up on the wall and reaching out to support him before his mind had time to start screaming. Kurt grabbed his arm with his flailing hand and steadied himself. Then he blinked slowly and his eyes set on Sebastian's face properly, more aware at last, widening.

"What are you doing, you idiot? You're afraid of heights! Get down!"

"Well thank you for reminding me, now do me a favor and leave this strategically unwise position so that I can, too." Clearly being about to die awakened some hidden resources of coherency. Sebastian was mildly impressed with himself. Of course, he'd rather skip the dying part.

"Fine."

Without a hitch, Kurt turned smoothly on the spot and jumped down to the roof, before reaching his hand to Sebastian, who took it gratefully. Once he was safely on solid ground, Sebastian's legs started shaking so hard he had to kneel down for a moment. He felt breathless and lightheaded, as if he'd just ran a marathon.

"Oh fuck, Kurt, holy shit, don't ever do this again. Ever."

Kurt started crying.

Later that night, after Kurt's epic meltdown in the cab and the two hours he'd spent sobbing, curled tightly in the corner of Sebastian's couch, things calmed down a little. Sebastian gave Kurt an Ambien and took him to bed, wrapping up around him for comfort just as much as for fear he might have any other scary ideas overnight.

Sebastian wasn't a cuddler, he needed ample personal space in bed just like he needed it in his daily life, but that night, he knew he wouldn't budge an inch. He held Kurt tightly as the drug started to work its magic, telling him how he was going to be just fine, spectacular even, without that asshole James, and how one day, a gorgeous man, a man of his dreams, would appear in his life and be everything Kurt had ever hoped for, and more. It was only a matter of time.

Kurt muttered "Not gonna happen" before falling asleep.

***

Kurt had never actively considered suicide. Not even in the bleakest moments back in high school, when everything he could hope for was an escape from his small, homophobic town – a prospect so distant it felt like a mirage. Even then, taunted and bullied and fighting his way through every day, he hadn't once thought it might be easier to just end it all. Because it wasn't his way. He was not a quitter, and besides, that would be selfish. No matter how few, there were still people who cared about him.

So waking up and remembering that last night, he'd found himself standing on that roof, teetering on the ledge, was terrifying. He remembered it all too vividly: looking down through the darkness, at the lights and the life of the city he'd chosen as his and loved for the last seven years; snowflakes catching on his eyelashes, cold wind combing through his hair in a biting caress.

He would never kill himself. And yet, in that one night of insanity, life had not been the obvious choice.

The first thing out of Kurt's mouth once he opened his eyes and saw Sebastian watching him with a worried expression was "I swear I wasn't going to jump."

The second was "Thank you."

INB drabble #3

2013-04-20T02:07:33Z

Prompt: "I'll take care of you"

[NC-17, hints of mild, loving D/s dynamics (or is it?)]

The first time Kurt noticed it, it was near the end of Blaine's freshman year at NYU. There were finals approaching, which Blaine was determined to ace, and a showcase soon afterwards where he was going to play two of his own songs. Kurt was certain with Blaine's talent and his hard work all year long he would breeze right through it. But there was stress anyway: long study sessions and nights spent over the piano perfecting the songs, quiet enough not to wake up the neighbors.

Kurt could see it building in Blaine's frame and his demeanor – the anxiety, the untold worry he wouldn't be good enough. The perfectionism, developed through the years under Mr. Anderson's critical eye, still reared its ugly head every now and then, Kurt knew. The only thing he could do was take care of Blaine until the stressful period passed, making sure he slept enough and ate at all, and didn't beat himself up over every tiny thing he perceived as failure.

It was the night before Blaine's first final of the session, and Kurt had convinced him to go to bed early and get some rest instead of revising yet again. When he left his sewing room and entered the bedroom himself, it was well after three, and Blaine was peacefully asleep, hugging Kurt's pillow to his face the way he always did until Kurt was there to hold instead.

Kurt smiled and slipped under covers, trying his best not to disturb Blaine, but as usual, it was no use. No matter how how deeply asleep or exhausted, Blaine always knew when Kurt joined him in bed, and cuddled to him immediately. Tonight was no exception.

They hadn't had any kind of sex in two weeks; there was never time, and Blaine had been tense and focused on other things so completely he probably didn't even realize it was the longest they'd gone without since they moved in together. Kurt understood, of course – there were things more important than his libido. But he couldn't help it when Blaine rolled into his arms now, naked and sleep-warm, an eternal temptation – it was impossible not to react to that delicious round ass right in Kurt's lap, wiggling a little as Blaine settled into a more comfortable position. Kurt jerked his hips forward on instinct, a moment of friction for his rapidly hardening cock, and then cursed himself silently when he felt his boyfriend stir awake. Blaine needed the sleep, dammit.

Well, it was too late now – he was definitely awake, his ass pressing against Kurt's body in maddening little circles, his arms stretching up above his head on the pillow so that Blaine's whole body was a long tight string of taut muscles. It was an invitation, and Kurt had no intention of refusing; not when Blaine was hard and hot under his hand, his breathing quickening already from the simple touch. Kurt kissed the nape of Blaine's neck, his flexed bicep, pressed his cock urgently against the cleft of Blaine's ass – once, twice, again.

God, he wanted him so much.

He pulled away and rolled Blaine onto his back, moving in to kiss him as soon as his lips were within reach. They'd barely even done this in the last few weeks, except for the hello and goodnight kisses, and occasional pecks in passing. Kissing slow and deep like this, with Blaine's mouth warm and soft against his, opening to let him in immediately – oh, how he'd missed that. He let himself get lost in it for a moment, in the sensual, blood-igniting pleasure that still set the butterflies in his stomach aflutter even after a year back together.

In his enchantment, it took Kurt a moment to notice that something was different.

It wasn't the first time Blaine woke up when Kurt came to bed, and sex ensued – far from it; they both loved the luxury of slow, barely-awake lovemaking, and whether at night before Kurt fell asleep or in the morning, when Blaine decided to wake him up, it happened at least once a week. But tonight Blaine's body under him lacked the sleepy bonelessness that made it so easy to slip into him, all relaxed and opening beautifully to Kurt's touch. Tonight, Blaine was thrumming with tension, coiled tightly in every muscle of his stretched up form. And, Kurt realized with a start, he was silent.

Blaine was never silent – he was one of the most vocal lovers Kurt had ever been with, always moaning and sighing, begging for more and chanting Kurt's name, sometimes swearing. From the first touch, Blaine was loud. But not tonight. Tonight his mouth was half open and panting softly when Kurt moved his hips experimentally, but not a sound escaped him. That alone was enough to snap Kurt into attention, make him observe quietly, gather facts. Blaine needed something from him – it was his job to recognize what it was and give it to him.

Blaine opened his eyes, black in the barely illuminated darkness of the bedroom, and looked straight at him – without a word, just a steady, wide-eyed stare, pleading – for what? And then–

His arms.

Blaine's arms were still up on the pillow over his head, and now that Kurt paid attention, he realized – they were crossed neatly at the wrist, palms up, left over right, in the exact position they'd been since Blaine woke up and put them there. His muscles were taut, his shoulders tensed to hold his wrists perfectly still, and Kurt had a sudden flashback to a conversation they'd had two summers ago, when they'd first negotiated the rules of their budding sexual relationship. Blaine had revealed his fantasies then, the things he wanted to try, sexually, and submission was among them. And they'd done it sometimes, but it was always just informal play, a teasing, planned in advance and usually involving some kind of light bondage and toys.

This felt different – deeper, more instinctual. Raw.

Kurt had to make sure, but he had a feeling he knew what it was that Blaine needed right now, what he was asking for in his self-imposed silence. It made so much sense, considering how stressed and anxious he'd been lately, and how hard a time he always had asking for help with anything. This was new, but if Kurt was right, it was exactly that – a plea for help; and Kurt would give it to him in an instant. He just had to be sure.

Kissing Blaine's lips one last time, he reached to cradle his cheek.

"Do you want the cuffs?" Blaine was shaking his head no, and Kurt frowned, surprised. "Do you want me to hold your hands down?" He guessed, and again, no. Oh. Now this was different.

He didn't understand what it was exactly what Blaine needed, then. But what he didn't need was talking, that part was clear. Kurt would just have to do what he did best, and find his way without the easy crutches of familiar dynamics.

"Okay. So... I'm just going to take care of you, Bee. You don't have to move, or speak, but just in case you need it – your safe word is blue. Nod if you accept that."

A nod, and even in the darkness there was relief in Blaine's eyes, a minute loosening of the tension.

That was all Kurt needed. All senses focused on Blaine's every little reaction, his mind processing all the information, he slid down Blaine's body, nipping and kissing a few chosen spots on the way until he was settled between his parted legs.

He sucked him off, slow and deep, mindful of every quickening of breath, every shudder rolling through Blaine's body. He teased and tasted, swallowed around him, and it was a shock how in control of his body Blaine still was, even with the tension clearly unwinding – his hips did not jerk up into Kurt's eager mouth once, his arms stayed in their position, unmoving. His head was thrown back and he was gasping by the time Kurt pulled off his cock and reached for the lubricant.

It had been too long to go with minimal preparation like they usually did. But this was even better – Kurt had a feeling this was what Blaine needed, to be taken care of, not just quickly fucked and brought to release. So he took his time, making a whole long foreplay out of his fingers until Blaine arched and trembled with a completely different kind of tension, his breath coming fast and shuddery, but still without a sound.

Kurt reached to the bedside drawer, but stopped halfway, his instinct telling him to do something else. He looked into Blaine's eyes, which were on him again, calm and trusting.

"Baby, I'm not going to wear a condom. Please shake your head if you're not okay with this."

Just as he thought, Blaine didn't – he just inhaled sharply, his eyes rolling back and his cock jerking up without being touched. Already he held his body differently – in exactly the same position, but the visibly uncomfortable tension of stress was gone, substituted with the fluid feel of arousal.

They didn't go bareback often – it was still something special, something they only did when they felt particularly intense, and had enough time and space for more than just quick sex. It always made them more desperate, and then more cuddly afterwards, holding onto each other long after they'd cleaned up.

Blaine arched his back when Kurt slid into him in one slow, unbroken thrust, but his hands remained exactly where they were. Apart from his arms, he was loose under Kurt now, with his eyes closed and his neck bared, looking peaceful, ready to just take whatever Kurt would give him. He didn't try to push back into Kurt like he usually did, or find friction for his own cock, and so Kurt took his time, plunging deep and then just rocking his hips when he found the perfect angle. He kissed Blaine's open lips, grazed his teeth down his neck. He sucked a few dark marks into his skin, low enough so that they would be easily covered tomorrow, and Blaine went crazy, silently thrashing beneath him. Kurt alternated between long, slow slides and just circling his hips, watching – always watching, observing every shudder, catching every gasp, every flutter of eyelashes. There was no hurry, now. They would get there at Blaine's pace.

It took a long time, but then Blaine's legs were tight around Kurt's waist, and he was begging with his eyes, dripping with sweat and panting, his whole body trembling. His shoulders had to hurt by now, Kurt thought fleetingly as he reached – finally – to Blaine's leaking cock. It was only now that he allowed himself to slide towards climax, too, to let go of the strict control he had over his own reactions, so focused on Blaine tonight. A few firm, slow strokes of Blaine's cock, several sharper thrusts, and they were both coming. Now, in the silence of the room, Kurt realized that he had been completely quiet tonight, too.

Blaine was trembling, coming down, his face hidden in the crook of Kurt's sweaty neck, but then his shoulders slumped and his arms slid slowly, awkwardly around Kurt's chest instead, and – oh, hey, there you are. Kurt reached to rub at the strained muscles immediately, leaning up on his elbow and looking at Blaine closely, trying to assess his state. He looked peaceful now, sated and sleepy, and Kurt smiled, unable to contain the love overflowing his heart. He stroked Blaine's cheekbone with his thumb and leaned down for another slow kiss before sitting up.

"Love, I'll be right back, I just need to grab a washcloth. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah." Blaine's voice was a croak, but it was there, along with a smile. "Thank you."

There was no time to talk about it until the next evening, after Blaine's final and Kurt's meetings, but Blaine seemed to be doing much better all day than he had in the last few weeks. He even decided to take a break and watch a movie with Kurt instead of studying for a change. They were sipping wine afterwards, Blaine's feet in Kurt's lap, when Kurt asked the question that had been on his mind all day.

"So... about last night–"

Blaine reached for his hand.

"Last night was perfect, Kurt. I don't know how you just knew what I needed when I wasn't sure myself, but... you did, and it was indescribable. I felt like I was falling, and it was like you told me that I can, because you'll catch me. I don't know how to explain it otherwise, I just... thank you."

Kurt squeezed his hand, relieved. "You're very welcome. And in case you ever need that again, don't hesitate to tell me."

Blaine flashed a small, self-conscious smile. "I probably won't exactly tell you. But you'll know."

Etched Into My Skin - chapter 18

2013-04-17T21:33:47Z

A/N: Here it is, and I'm sorry for the wait. Real life interferes – I'm trying to start earning money with my words now, so progress on my fics is slower than I'd like it to be lately. Hopefully it's just a matter of time before I settle into the new schedule, because I still have so much fun planned for this story and I can't wait to share it with you :)

Thank you SO much for all the love and comments, they always brighten my day, and I'm sorry that I suck at replying recently – I promise I'll try to do better once I whip the chaos of my non-fandom life into some semblance of order. Hugs and kittens (bunnies? puppies? take your pick!) for all of you!

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CHAPTER 18

The story started small, in the first week of August – just a mention about the "strange phenomenon" in the morning news on a slow day. By the evening it had been quoted in the Health sections of all the major news sites. "Random names appearing on people's bodies", "tiny percentage of the population", "no reason to worry", "the scientists are working on understanding the anomaly". And the word that seemed to catch everyone's attention, just one of the potential explanations thrown in dismissively among scientific jargon: "soulmates".

The sheer volume of responses and comments was staggering and within days, the story grew and ballooned, until it was everywhere – huge articles in newspapers and premium spots on TV news, floods of discussions all over the internet. Soon it was revealed that the percentage of people with marks wasn't that small, after all – according to different sources, it was already between 5 and 10% of Americans, and probably just as much all over the world. And the numbers were still growing, with new cases reported every day.

Suddenly, there were "experts" everywhere – doctors and philosophers, geneticists and priests and self-proclaimed mystics, stating their opinions and beliefs with unshakeable conviction. The marks were called a plague or a miracle, people with names on their bodies were either diseased or chosen, blessed or cursed, depending on who you asked. Stories of happily "matched" couples were countered by tales of anguish by people who suffered ridicule and embarrassment because their marks appeared in highly visible spots.

Five days after the first reports, a well-known plastic surgeon announced he'd recently developed the most effective method of removing the "obnoxious markings", and offered discounts for the first ten patients interested in the procedure. In reply, a celebrity wedding planner called the marks "the most beautiful proof of destiny existing" and promised her services for free to the first "soulmate couple" who wanted to tie the knot. The internet was abuzz, people divided between those squealing with excitement at the romanticism of the soulmates idea, those predicting horrible things to come out of this new epidemic, and the usual angry crowd demanding an explanation, a cure, money, or the resignation of the president. Everywhere you went for days, people hardly talked about any other news.

Blaine was watching all this in silent dread.

He and Kurt had agreed not to reveal their marks to anyone who hadn't known by then, which meant only being out to Tina and Mike, and Kurt's dad and Carole. Even Finn didn't know yet. They were still waiting for Blaine's parents' reaction to all the hype, hoping it would be positive, or at least open-minded enough to let them stop hiding their connection. But days went by and Mr. and Mrs. Anderson seemed completely uninterested in the issue that was on everyone's tongues.

Blaine refused to start the topic himself, unwilling to draw attention. Discussing news and current events wasn't really something they did at his home. But he made a habit of watching TV with his parents on those evenings when he wasn't out with Kurt, hoping for... anything, really. A comment, a discussion, even just some indication of their opinions.

It took a whole week since that first news for his parents to say anything at all.

Another mark-related story was just airing – several couples who were "matched" by the names on their skin speaking about how perfect it felt when they'd found each other – when Blaine's father grabbed the remote with a frustrated huff.

"For god's sake, isn't it time to stop talking about some damn skin disease and go back to reporting important news? Who cares what your freckles say, people! Soulmates, indeed." He changed the channel with a vicious stab of his thumb.

Blaine's heart dropped. Not that he was surprised by his father's attitude – it was exactly what he'd thought it would be – but he would lie if he said he hadn't hoped, just a little...

"But it sounds real, don't you think?" He couldn't stop himself. "I mean, all those marks must have some function, right? And people do find each other, and they fit together, it makes sense."

"Oh Blaine, of course you'd think that, you're so young." His mom cooed soothingly, reaching over to stroke his hand. "But there's no such thing as soulmates. There isn't just one perfect person destined to be with you. A good relationship is more than a meeting of predestined lovers that leads to a happily ever after, real life doesn't work like that."

"I know." He mumbled through a clenching throat. No ally there either, then. It hurt more than it should. "It's just... a nice concept, I guess."

"It's a beautiful one, yes. But believing it only leads to heartbreak." There was something off in his mom's voice, a hint of distress on her face as she glanced down at her hand, still covering Blaine's. A blink and it was gone, covered by a smile. "Aren't you going to bed?"

"Yeah, I should." It wasn't his bedtime yet, not even close, but he had a feeling tonight's phone call with Kurt would be a long one. He got up from the couch and kissed his mom's cheek. "Goodnight."

Keeping the secret was even harder now that all of their friends were talking about it. Suddenly marks on skin were like a cool new gadget. Everyone wondered about them – what they felt like, what they really meant – and Tina and Mike, who had revealed theirs for what they really were as soon as the news spread around, found themselves answering a thousand questions from their fascinated friends time and again. And it wasn't that Blaine envied them the exposure, especially the way relative strangers would stop them to inquire about the marks sometimes – frankly, that part was creepy. But hiding, pretending not to know when their friends discussed how it must feel to have a soulmate, or argued whether or not such a concept was even real, somehow felt like betrayal to him, like tainting the most beautiful thing in his life with secrecy. He would never deny what Kurt meant to him, but this felt exactly like what he was doing.

Kurt was infinitely patient and understanding, and did everything a perfect boyfriend would do – and that made it even harder. Harder to watch when Kurt's jaw clenched tight every time someone spoke about Tina and Mike being the one chosen couple among them, dismissing the rest as silly high school romances; harder to stand there, holding Kurt's hand, and pretend it wasn't his soulmate right there. And when Finn came home one afternoon in the middle of August brokenhearted because Rachel discovered a name on her breast that wasn't his, it was almost physically painful to listen to Kurt speak about how having this kind of connection must be so very special and worth waiting for, and how maybe Finn would know that feeling one day, too – maybe they all would. The look on Kurt's face almost broke Blaine's resolve and made him come out with the marks to the whole world right there and then.

But it would only make Finn feel worse, so he pushed it aside in favor of being a good friend – and by the time he returned home that night, the courage had somehow melted away again, leaving just the selfish fear of change.

Because what Blaine had now was the closest to acceptance he'd felt from his parents since the day he came out. It seemed like they were finally okay with his sexuality, or at least as close as they would ever get. Jeopardizing that when he'd yearned for it for so long was... unthinkably hard. He would do that for Kurt, of course he would – he would do anything, if Kurt asked.

But Kurt hadn't asked. Not yet, at least.

So Blaine was stuck between enjoying the peace at home and feeling guilty towards Kurt, which resulted in trying to make it up to Kurt any way he could, any time he was allowed. Which was a lot, considering that Blaine's mom threw herself back into her social life now that she'd decided her self-imposed chaperone duty was no longer needed. She was out of the house most of the time Kurt and Blaine were there, which led to many delicious hours spent slowly discovering each other, hidden away in Blaine's bedroom.

If Blaine could draw, he'd be able to sketch every inch of Kurt's gorgeous body from memory by now, every dip and curve, every shadow, every freckle.

He really regretted that he couldn't draw.

He could take pictures; in fact, he had dozens of visions in his head of exactly how he would love to capture Kurt – beautiful, artistic nudes both in color and sepia tones – but it was too early for that, as Kurt's furious blush when he mentioned it told him.

Those last few weeks, they'd learned a lot – about pleasure, and each other, and how their marks figured in all that. They'd learned to hold back when one of them came instead of immediately following the shared thrill of pleasure, and discovered that while increased sensitivity to each other's reactions was definitely real, the phantom orgasms didn't happen when they were together. Kurt's theory was that it was a mind thing, since it only worked when they were thinking of the other – and not much thinking happened when they were actually close, able to see and touch for real. Blaine didn't really care how it worked – having Kurt in his arms was better than any phantom sensations ever.

There were so many things Blaine had discovered he loved during those long hours of privacy they had now. Kurt's hands, of course, the way his touch was so different from Blaine's own, and yet so perfect in its shy, exploratory gentleness. The sounds Kurt made just before he came, high and helpless, so desperate. The way Kurt kept pushing the levels of his own sexiness up into the stratosphere, with barely a blink and a teasing smile. Blaine thought his brain would explode with it sometimes – like that day when Kurt straddled his hips, all flushed and naked, gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat from the hot humidity of the room, his hand working over his own cock with slow deliberation until he came all over Blaine's mark, that spot so sensitive and private, sizzling with pleasure.

But being naked together wasn't the only thing they did with their time alone – far from it. They spent hours in the backyard, swimming and reading and talking, and lounging in the hammock. It turned out Kurt was actually okay with the sun as long as his sunscreen was always within easy reach. When it got too hot, they watched movies in the delightful coolness of the den, and on a few cold days they baked cookies together, making an awful mess in the kitchen because seeing Kurt all domestic caused Blaine to get handsy every single time, and then there was flour everywhere and chocolate smeared on their skin, and thank god the oven had a timer or they would probably cause a fire alarm on more than one occasion. Not to mention, burnt cookies.
Kurt wouldn't forgive him burnt cookies.

All through August it felt like they had all the time in the world, the long lazy summer days filled with love and closeness and friends, no hurry at all. And then it was suddenly the last week of their vacation and like a switch flipped, everything felt urgent as the school year and the separation it would bring drew nearer with every passing hour.

Seven days left.

They had lunch with Rachel, newly single and annoying in all of her freshly-marked self-importance. They were both fidgeting in their seats by the time she was done with her half-hour monologue about the importance of not wasting her time with the wrong person, now that she knew without a doubt her soulmate was waiting for her out there in New York. When she started lecturing them on the signs to look for, expressing her hope they would one day get to experience the indescribable feeling of knowing their true love's name, Kurt looked like he was about to snap, his jaw clenched and his fingers playing with the neck of his t-shirt. Blaine really wouldn't blame him. Maybe it would make her stop talking at least.

Six days.

They spent the whole afternoon with Kurt's family. A barbecue in the backyard turned into a jam session when Puck and Sam arrived with their guitars, and it was warm and fun and peaceful and no one even blinked at Kurt and Blaine cuddling together on the porch swing, so used to the view after all those months. It felt so good that they didn't even try to sneak in and up to Kurt's room for some privacy in the evening, just shared a few chaste kisses and smiled softly into their I love yous before Blaine drove home. It was one of those days Blaine knew would stay in his memory forever as a reminder of times when everything was right in the world, if only for a moment.

Five days.

Kurt was on top of him, kissing-licking his way down – all the way down over the skin thrumming with desire, slow and tender and not stopping, never stopping until–

Kitten licks to the head of Blaine's cock, hot and wet and shocking, and Blaine arched up, babbling, begging, all control gone in an instant. More shy little licks, Kurt tasting the beads of precome at the tip of Blaine's cock, swirling his tongue around with a thoughtful, captivated expression. Then kisses – down the length of Blaine's cock, and lower, over his balls. He pushed Blaine's legs apart to better settle between them – and that was it. Blaine lost it, the feeling of being so open all of a sudden, so exposed for Kurt enough to push him over the edge.

Afterwards, Kurt was suddenly shy and flushed pink, with a wet spot spreading on the front of his blue boxer-briefs that he hadn't even had time to take off before they'd fallen into each other. And then there was a sound of the garage door opening and they were scrambling for their clothes, so there was no chance for the second round, no matter how much Blaine wanted to have his turn, too. But the delicious possessive thrill that ran through him when Kurt went out of the bathroom wearing Blaine's borrowed boxers was something he definitely needed to file away to think about later because, ohmygod.

Four days.

They talked – about yesterday, about what they wanted, what they were ready for, and what they weren't, yet. And then they implemented the new knowledge and oh wow, Blaine really really liked to suck cock.

They went outside afterwards to make use of the last bits of freedom in the sun, resisting the temptation to just stay in Blaine's bedroom forever, taking turns to learn everything there was to know about blowjobs. They were giddy and excited, and swimming led to a tickle fight in the pool, which ended with dropping onto the blanket in a giggling wet mess and kissing until they dozed off under the huge garden umbrella, warm and tired and happy.

They slept longer than they should, only waking up when the evening chill started to creep in on their almost-naked bodies, but fortunately there was no one home still, so all was good.

Three.
They had a plan – dinner and movies in Lima, but Blaine's mom shocked him in the morning with a request to call Kurt and invite him to eat dinner with them. Them. As in, both of Blaine's parents. He had to ask her to repeat because he was certain he misheard.

He didn't.

So he called, and Kurt accepted, and then he spent half a day calling Blaine every half hour obsessing about his outfit for the evening. They went to the movies anyway, but then drove to Blaine's home, and the dinner was... wonderful, actually. The conversation was smooth and lively, his parents behaved as if they'd never had anything against Kurt in the first place, and before Kurt went home, Blaine's mom hugged him goodbye. And Blaine had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Two.

When Kurt had said last week that he wanted to drive to Columbus for the day, Blaine thought it would be just a shopping opportunity before school began, a little change of scenery. He didn't expect them to stop by the Ohio State campus so that Kurt could take a look around.

"How can I go to New York next year, and leave you here?" was all he said to Blaine's shocked inquiry.

There was silence in the car on their way back, but it was loud and chaotic in Blaine's head. It shouldn't be like this. It wasn't right for Kurt to give up his dream just so that they could stay close next year.

But when he actually thought of the distance, he wasn't sure he could bear the alternative.

One.

Blaine came home late that evening after the end-of-summer party at Brittany's. The day had been fun, but when the time came to say goodnight to Kurt, the mood shifted and now Blaine was just immensely sad. Grateful for the summer they'd had, but painfully aware how hard it was going to be now, only seeing each other every day after school again. If they even had time to meet every day. It was Kurt's senior year, after all.

Blaine's mom knocked on his bedroom door just as he'd finished preparing his bag for the morning. She was in her nightgown already, her hair loose and make-up washed off. Secretly, this was Blaine's favorite look on her, so natural and different from the one she wore for the world to see. Even her smile was different like this – warmer, more private.

She hovered in the doorway, the way she did when she came to say goodnight sometimes. "Hey, how was the party?"

Blaine shrugged and took out his Dalton uniform, freshly cleaned and pressed, to hang it on his closet door, ready for the morning.

"It was good. You know – we had a bonfire and sang a lot. There were some silly games Brittany came up with... it was fun."

His mom nodded and came in, closing the door before she sat down at the edge of his bed. It didn't look like she had only come to say goodnight after all.

"So... they really are your friends, too? Not just Kurt's?"

"They are. Well, some of them more than others, but we've spent so much time together by now that it really feels like I'm an adopted member of New Directions. Um, that's their Glee club."

His mom looked as if she wasn't really listening, just looking at him uncertainly. It was confusing. He was just about to ask her what was wrong when–

"Do you still want to transfer?" It was quiet but clear, and it knocked Blaine completely off-balance, his mom's dark eyes earnest and inquisitive on him.

"Mom?"

"I talked to your father today and we decided... if you want to. If you really want to, for you, not just for Kurt."

In a heartbeat, he was kneeling by her feet, grabbing her hands. "You're really letting me transfer? Now?"

She laughed that quiet, bright laugh of hers. "Well, not now. But we'll go to Dalton in the morning, you and me, to take care of the paperwork. You should be able to start at McKinley in a few days. If you're sure."

"I'm sure. I really, really am, mom."

He was so sure. The thought of going back to Dalton had been a heavy cloud over his head lately, and not just because of the dreaded separation from Kurt. Dalton had felt like home once, like a safe haven. But the last few months there had felt more and more like a cage that Blaine had fled as soon as he could. Nothing kept him there anymore. Not even the Warblers, now that the council members had graduated and the new voices had grown, demanding changes to the old traditions, to the classy image that Blaine loved.

Yes, he was ready to say goodbye to Dalton. And being close to Kurt this year was what he wanted most in the world, too. But... he shook his head minutely.

"Mom? Why now? What happened? I mean... you invited Kurt to dinner, you hugged him, and now this. It feels like something changed, and I'm over the moon about it, don't get me wrong, I just don't know... why?"

He couldn't decipher the look on her face – it was soft and tender, but also so very sad that it almost scared him. But before he had time to worry, she reached out and raised the hem of his shirt, uncovering his left side.

"Because of this."

His mark. Out in the open, clear and obvious above the low-slung waist of his pajama pants, unmistakable to anyone who'd had any contact with mass media lately. Blaine reached to stroke Kurt's name on instinct.

His mom knew. And she wasn't... angry, or disappointed?

"How did you–?"

"I came by the house a few days ago to pick up a book I'd forgotten, and found you two asleep by the pool. It was kind of hard not to notice." Blaine shook his head, incredulous, but she just smiled. "How long have you had them?"

"Since Christmas. Both of us." He whispered. Her eyebrows shot up.

"Eight months?"

"Yeah. But... mom, you said you don't believe in soulmates."

She smiled sadly and let his t-shirt fall back down. "I did believe in them once. And then I stopped. Because even if it were real, having a soulmate and being with them doesn't immediately mean a happy ending. It's not a surefire happiness recipe, and it doesn't mean you can't have a great life with someone else. I just... I didn't want you to get too hung up on the idea, with all the hype around. But now that I know about you and Kurt, it's more than an abstract. I've seen the way he looks at you, how happy he makes you, and now those marks. That's all I want for you, Blaine. To be happy."

"I am happy with him, mom. I never knew being with someone could feel so perfect."

She smiled and threaded her fingers through his hair, something she hadn't done in years.

"I'm glad to hear that."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Blaine couldn't resist anymore. "Mom? Who was it? The one that made you believe in soulmates once?"

She hesitated, reaching to play with the ring on her right hand, a silver band shaped into a wide wreath of ivy leaves that covered her ring finger almost to the knuckle. Now that Blaine thought of it, he didn't think he'd ever seen this ring on her until recently.

His mom saw him looking and her mouth quirked in a wry smile. "It doesn't matter. That was before I met your father and chose a future with him. And... I have my family. I chose this family and I will always choose it. But if that's what soulmates mean, if Kurt makes you feel that way, then who am I to stand in the way of your happiness? Just... treasure what you have, Blaine. It's a precious thing. And a fragile one."

His eyes stung when she stroked his cheek and he pressed his face into her warm hand.

"I do, mom. I will."

Etched Into My Skin - chapter 17

2013-04-01T15:30:28Z

CHAPTER 17

Kurt didn't sleep well that night, his dreams plagued by entirely too vivid images from Blaine's story, enveloped in a vague sense of dread, and really, he'd rather not sleep at all. His boyfriend bloody and unconscious was not a picture he'd ever wanted to see.

The morning rose bleak and rainy, but Kurt was already up, showered and dressed down for comfort, toiling over the most elaborate recipe for fancy breakfast rolls he could find. Kneading and rolling kept him anchored in reality and safe from succumbing to the horrifying lure of the what if. With his hands busy, he could think and process without getting lost or overwhelmed by emotions. And he had plenty to think about.

He had endured his share of bullying throughout his school career. He wasn't one to whine about it, but he'd always thought that he had it hard – harder than most, especially when Karofsky's abuse had escalated. And he knew that Blaine shared at least some of the experience – it was one of the first things he'd told Kurt about himself, after all. But only now did Kurt realize how much he'd marginalized it.

Blaine's calm, simple confession back in November didn't sound like anything truly bad had happened. I let bullies chase me away, he said – which was nowhere close to I was beaten so bad I had to have brain surgery, or I almost died because someone didn't like me going to a dance with a boy. And now, kneading the dough with furious force, Kurt felt the weight of shame settle heavy in his stomach.

He should have asked instead of assuming. He should have paid more attention, cared better, noticed more. He felt dizzy just thinking how close Blaine had come to not being here now, to never being a part of Kurt's life.

But mostly, he felt like he'd failed.

They'd known each other for eight months, and during all that time Kurt had no idea that his best friend – and then boyfriend – had anxiety problems. He barely knew anything specific about his past or his family, didn't know his fears or his plans for the future besides what they'd dreamed up together. Until yesterday, Kurt hadn't even known his damn age. Blaine looked and acted more mature than most sophomores Kurt knew, but he'd always assumed it was just the way Blaine was, older than his years. He hadn't thought to ask – why would he?

He needed to get his shit together. What kind of a boyfriend was he?

Blaine just didn't talk about those things, ever – Kurt realized, washing his hands after he'd laid the rolls out on the baking sheet and left them to raise. He kept his issues and his problems close to his chest in an attempt to keep Kurt and everyone else from worrying. And that may be fine with casual friends and relative strangers in Blaine's life, but between the two of them, it couldn't be like this.

How were they supposed to be together if they didn't communicate openly? How would they survive if they ever hit a rough patch or any relationship trouble – which was bound to happen sooner or later – without really talking with each other? Something had to be done, they had to work it out.

Operation: Talk To Me started that afternoon.

It was still raining, so they were in Kurt's room (door open, family downstairs). Kurt was going through his closet, trying on clothes and weeding out those that didn't fit anymore after his recent growth spurt, while Blaine sat cross-legged on the bed, ogling him shamelessly and offering opinions that were mostly useless but very good for Kurt's ego. It felt nice, the easy companionship with a promise of a light make-out later, before Kurt's dad inevitably looked in on them – but Kurt had plans.

"What happened to your friend? After Sadie Hawkins?"

The adoring smile faded on Blaine's face.

"Andy? I... don't really know." Kurt looked at him alarmed, and Blaine rushed to correct. "I mean, he's fine, I just never talked to him again. I tried calling him a month after the dance, but he'd already changed his number. He didn't answer my emails, and deleted his Facebook account. I saw him once at the mall last summer. He was with a girl, holding hands, and when he noticed me, he turned away and hid in the closest store. Victoria's Secret, incidentally."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Blaine shrugged. "It's okay. It's not like we were best friends, and I guess everyone has their way of dealing with stuff. It stung back then, but I'm fine."

Kurt wondered just how many things Blaine made himself to be fine with.

"Okay, another thing – your mom said something about me wanting to have you at my school. What was that about? When have I ever done anything to make you come to McKinley? I mean, you pick me up sometimes, or drop by for a performance, but I'm not forcing you, am I?"

Suddenly, Blaine couldn't meet his eyes, his cheeks turning pink. "No, that's... something else entirely. I may have... ah... told my parents that I want to transfer. To your school."

Kurt's eyes grew wide. "You did what? When?"

"Um. A few weeks after you transferred back? It didn't work, obviously. And I already told my mom it wasn't your idea, I'm sorry she yelled at you."

Kurt waved his hand dismissively, still stunned. "It's okay. But... you wanted to transfer to be with me? Really?"

Blaine nodded, the tips of his ears bright red now. "Yeah."

"But what about Dalton? And the Warblers?"

Blaine shrugged and looked away. "Dalton isn't the same without you. Nothing is the same. Not even the Warblers."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. His instincts were tingling. "What aren't you telling me?"

"They've been... pretty cold towards me lately. At least some of them." Blaine admitted quietly. "There might have been a discussion about not having one main lead next year, too, about preferential treatment and some such. But it's not just that, Kurt, it's not the reason – I just... I think I'm ready to brave public school again. With you. Except my parents don't agree, so–"

"Blaine." It was overwhelming, the amount of love Kurt felt for this boy, so trusting and ready to uproot his whole life, leave his safe haven to be with him. He couldn't find the words, not yet, so he just flew into Blaine's arms and let his lips speak in feverish presses until the sound of a door slamming shut downstairs broke them apart. Panting and flushed, they moved away from each other, glancing guiltily at the open door and straightening their clothes.

"Um, so... any more questions?" Blaine flashed him a bashful smile, and oh, Kurt just wanted to kiss him again – kiss him forever, if only they could find some place to be really alone–

He cleared his throat.

"Why didn't you tell me we are the same age?"

It wasn't an accusation, Kurt made sure not to make it sound like one. Still, Blaine looked uncomfortable as he answered.

"You never asked."

"How could I–" Kurt could feel his voice raising – exasperation, not anger, but he tamped it down quickly anyway. "Blaine, I shouldn't have to ask. I don't want to have to ask, I want us to talk about things, big things and little things and difficult things, and what we feel and why. It's important. I want to know when you have trouble with your parents, or your anxiety, or anything. Please don't make me guess. I love you, I care."

"But it's embarrassing." Blaine pulled his knees up to his chest. "I don't want you to look at me like I'm weak or needy or like I have... issues. I can be strong for you."

Kurt knelt on the bed and put his hand on Blaine's leg. "You are strong. You are also human. So am I. We both have our weaker moments. You've seen mine more than once, does it mean you see me as weak?"

"God no, Kurt–"

"See? I don't, either – you're my amazing, brave boyfriend, and I want to know all the sides of you. It doesn't make me think any less of you when you open up, it just makes me love you more. I have to know when you need me, and what you need. Please, we have to put on enough fronts for the rest of the world, don't you think? Let's not put up walls between us, too."

Blaine was looking at him with his big puppy eyes, so earnest and soft. "Okay. I'll try, I promise. But... I'm not used to it, sharing my problems, so you may need to remind me sometimes?"

"I can do that." Kurt's hand slid under Blaine's t-shirt and over to his hipbone. "Thank you."

So for the next few weeks, they talked – really talked, about everything: their pasts and families, early crushes and childhood memories, phobias and quirks and medical facts ("You never know when we might need to know each other's blood type, or allergies." Kurt said when Blaine looked at him funny. "I hope we never will, but I'd rather be prepared."). When Blaine left for a week-long stint at Six Flags where he subbed for their regular entertainer, they talked on the phone for hours every night, staving off the separation sickness and the longing. And when they were finally back together, they still talked, not just because it felt good, but because they could hardly do the other things they so desperately wanted.

It was ridiculous how little time alone they could get. For the last few weeks of school Kurt had been fantasizing about the freedom that summer would bring – long hours together every day in empty houses while their parents worked. But the reality turned out to be quite different.

They did have a lot of time together, which was amazing, but empty houses? Not so much. There were always people anywhere they ended up. Carole worked shifts at the hospital, so she was often home during the day even when Kurt's dad wasn't. Finn was always around, too, and where there was Finn, there was usually also Rachel, or Puck, or any number of the Glee guys, and it was noisy and fun, but not exactly what the two of them hoped for. At Blaine's house they could close the door at least, but his mom didn't work and was always around, even if she wasn't quite so hostile anymore, so it only meant they could make out without straining their ears for steps on the stairs.

Going any further under these circumstances was out of the question – neither of them was comfortable with clothes coming off when there were other people in the house, and no matter how desperate they were, walking around with drying come in their pants, especially when interacting with the other's family, was a prospect that helped them cool off more than once.

But it wasn't easy. Hormones simmering in the summer heat, clothes that revealed more than they covered, kisses that ignited the want instead of sating it even a fraction – by the last week of July, Kurt was a hot mess, almost ready to forget about the risk and find a quiet spot to get some privacy in a car, if nothing else worked. Something had to change and soon, or he would surely explode.

***

"Blaine... please tell me you two are being safe at least."

Blaine glanced up at his mom from the passenger's seat. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel, her face set in grim determination, but at least she was talking to him. Apart from the "Get dressed, we're going to get groceries " earlier, this was the first time she had actually spoken to him since she'd walked in on him saying goodbye to Kurt last night. Pressed against the front door. With Blaine's hands high under Kurt's shirt (he was just reaching to stroke his mark, honestly) and his thigh kind of... slotted between Kurt's legs (but only for a second). And okay, there might have been that little moan he'd made into their kiss, but–

Really, she'd chosen the worst possible moment to come in from the backyard.

To her credit, she'd left immediately. But then she was cold and silent all evening, refusing to listen to Blaine when he tried – awkwardly – to explain, and Kurt was frantic on the phone later that night, convinced that he could never, ever show his face at Blaine's house again, and it was all a terrible mess.

And now this. Blaine shook his head a little, confused.

"Of course we are safe. It's not like we wander around the bad parts of town or anything. We don't go out late at night, we don't have suspicious friends or–"

"Blaine." She still wasn't looking at him, her eyes set firmly on the road, but even her profile betrayed discomfort. "That's not what I mean. Are you... do you use condoms?"

Air escaped from Blaine's lungs as if he'd been punched. Oh. He could feel his face burn with a furious blush when he finally found his voice.
"Well, I'm sure we will one day, but mom, we've only been together four months, it's a long way until we need condoms."

Where did that question even come from? Did she really think they'd been having sex behind the closed door to Blaine's room all that time? Sure, they'd been doing things, but apart from that one hurried repeat of prom night back at Kurt's house (after which Blaine was unable to look Burt in the eye for a week), and Kurt's hand one glorious, unforgettable day two weeks ago when Blaine's mom had gone out to the store for ten minutes, they hadn't moved past make-outs, no matter how much they wanted.

And even if they had the chance, neither of them was ready to go that far, not anytime soon.

His mom looked at him fully for the first time since last night. Luckily, the road in front of them was empty.

"Oh."

That was it. No more comments, and in the store she acted as if nothing had happened, asking him about dinner preferences and ice cream flavors, and even buying his favorite fancy coffee blend, and Blaine breathed out a relieved sigh. The drop in tension was palpable. Now he could go to Kurt's and assure him that he didn't have to move to Alaska to avoid meeting his mom ever again.

But the biggest surprise came the next morning, when Blaine was sitting at the kitchen table, sleepily buttering his toast. His father was already at the office, and his mom came in, clicking her high heels, light summer jacket on and her keys in hand. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Morning. Is Kurt coming over today?"

Blaine frowned. "Maybe? I don't know yet, why?" He said cautiously. They hadn't decided what they would do this afternoon when Kurt was done with his shift at the garage, both still a little apprehensive after the other day.

"Because I'm going to dinner with your father tonight after the spa, but if you boys want to eat in, there's stew in the fridge. We should be back around ten." She smiled at his bewildered face and added softly. "I guess I should trust you a little more. Just... be smart, okay?"

She left with a kiss to Blaine's forehead, leaving him with an open mouth and a suspicious feeling he must be still dreaming.

Kurt did come over that afternoon, of course. There was no way they could pass up the opportunity to be completely, perfectly alone for the whole... oh, six hours.

It felt unreal, a dream come true, and now that they were here, he was at a loss for a moment – so many possibilities, so much time, just for them, undisturbed. Blaine didn't know where to start, his hands flailing a little as he stood in the middle of his room, the door closed and the whole house empty and quiet around them.

Thankfully, he had Kurt there – Kurt, who simply took him by the hand and led him to the bed, and they fell into each other like they'd done so many times before, kissing and touching and there. Except this time they didn't have to stop when the kisses turned needy and fierce, didn't have to swallow their moans when Kurt rolled onto his back, pulling Blaine on top of him, their hips pressing together. He could freely explore the sensitive skin on Kurt's neck without worrying that the breathless whimpers his tongue and teeth evoked would be heard through the door.
And most importantly, they could undress each other, as slowly and as far as they wanted.

They hadn't seen each other naked yet – and once they passed the relatively familiar boundary of shirtlessness, once they touched and kissed every inch of skin they could reach, returning to their marks over and over again, there was a pause. They looked at each other, flushed and expectant, on the precipice of new territory. Blaine stroked his finger along the waistband of Kurt's jeans, raising goosebumps on his stomach.

"May I?"

Kurt nodded, his eyes wide and never leaving Blaine's. The belt, the button, the slow slide of the zipper. Kurt's hips raised to let him slide the pants down. And then there he was, naked save for the black boxer briefs hugging him so perfectly, enveloping the bulge of his erection that Blaine had felt before but never saw like this, close and clear and unmistakable. He did this. He made Kurt feel this way, arch his hips upward, straining for contact when he stroked his thigh.

"God, Blaine. You too, please, now."

It was a bit of a surprise how self-conscious he felt pulling off his pants, considering that Kurt had seen him without them already, after the prom. But the lights had been off then and they'd been in bed most of the time, and now Kurt's eyes were huge and dark and trained on him, his tongue flicking out unconsciously to lick his lips. Blaine blushed his way through the process, sliding off the bed to step out of his pants.

He was just about to get back to his boyfriend, the acres of milky skin begging him to touch, when Kurt jumped off the bed. The press of his almost naked body made Blaine sway on his feet, and then Kurt's hands were smoothing down his back until his thumbs dipped just under the waistband of Blaine's red briefs, stealing his breath away.

"Can I... underwear, too? Or is it too much?"

Blaine drew a sharp breath. Definitely not too much, he just wanted skin, no layers left between them. He braced his palms on Kurt's hips and nodded.

"Can I take yours off, too?"

"Yes."

Kurt was flushed pink and breathing fast, his hands warm as they slid down to Blaine's ass, and the next moment they were both naked – completely bare against each other, kissing and moaning and there were hands everywhere and so much skin and thank god the bed was just there because Blaine was fairly certain he would just fold down to the floor otherwise, and he wouldn't even care as long as Kurt was there with him.

He had thought about this moment before, imagined it dozens of times – all the options that opened with the more that they both wanted. Handjobs. Blowjobs. Mutual masturbation. Grinding together until they came. Rimming if they got bold. He was a walking, dreaming encyclopedia of sex acts that could happen – that had happened in his fantasies so many times Kurt would probably think he was a pervert if he knew.

But now, tangled with Kurt on his bed, Blaine didn't think of any of those. All that mattered was how perfectly close they were without any clothes between them, Kurt hot and soft-over-hard, and so so beautiful Blaine's heart was breaking a little, and his hands wanted to learn every inch of that skin, everywhere. The warm hollow behind Kurt's knee, the planes of his back, the tickly sides of his ribs. The vulnerable crease of his thigh. His cock, thick and solid and pink, that Blaine only had a chance to glance at before Kurt rolled them and pulled him into his arms. Because Kurt wanted to touch him too, just as much, it seemed, and they both wanted to kiss all through this frenzy of skin and sensations. Never stop kissing.

Kurt coming was a surprise – a strangled moan and a bite to Blaine's lip, and the pulsing wet heat against his thigh. Blaine's hand had just slid down to Kurt's ass, his fingers skimming along the cleft, and he only had time to realize how close he was himself before his hips were bucking into Kurt's abdomen, his back arching and whoa, Kurt's skin was like silk, hot, firm silk with just enough friction from the soft hair running down his belly, and hey, what a brilliant idea not to do this with anyone around because Blaine had not known how loud he could apparently get.

And then they were catching their breath and smiling, and touching – always touching, hands and foreheads and tangled legs, and it wasn't weird or embarrassing in the slightest like Blaine had feared the aftermath might be. It was hot in the room so they stayed on top of the sheets, unabashedly naked, and the quick cleanup with the tissues was enough for now because the shower, though tempting, was too far away in their sated, loose state. Kurt rolled them over so that he could lie with his head on Blaine's shoulder, tracing the brown letters of his own name with his fingertip until the delicious tingling made Blaine stir and fill again, and then Kurt's curious fingertips moved, exploring and enticing.

Slower, less desperate now, they fell into each other again.

"Don't you think we could tell your parents about the marks now that they are more or less okay with us?"

They were sitting at the edge of the swimming pool at the back of Blaine's house, their feet lazily treading water in a vain attempt to combat the early August heat. It was the weekend and both of Blaine's parents were around, so actually dipping into the pool was out of the question – or it was for Kurt at least. Swimming in his shirt would look weird and he had no way of going shirtless without revealing the mark under his collarbone, all too obvious in the bright sun. Blaine was being a good boyfriend and suffering along even though the name on his hip was easier to hide if he simply hiked up his swimming trunks.

He startled at the question and glanced guiltily at Kurt.

"No. I'm sorry, I just don't want to stir the pot. I'm afraid if I give them this to accept on top of everything else right now, it will be too much. They both hate all kinds of mysteries, and this is still new and weird and something they've never even heard of. I don't think they would just take it at face value like your parents did."

Kurt nodded, looking intently at the water. "What if you snuck them an article or two to read? It's not some mumbo jumbo after all, scientists are working on it, so there should be some kind of development soon."

Blaine bit his lip, torn between giving Kurt anything he wanted and holding onto this new and wonderful peace treaty between him and his parents.

"It won't help. Not unless everyone has those, unless it's a normal thing. Otherwise I'll be just a freak in yet another way, especially to my father. It doesn't matter that I didn't choose this, just like I didn't choose my sexuality. I stick out, and not in a way to be proud of. That's what counts. They just want me to be normal. I'm afraid they might want me to remove it or something."

Kurt gasped. "They wouldn't!"

"I don't know." Blaine shrugged. "I bet they'd make me remove the gay if it was possible."

Kurt took his hand and squeezed it in silence, and Blaine managed a small smile. Yes, things were much better now, especially with his mom. But there'd been enough harsh words in his past, enough cutting comments that still hurt to this day, to know that he was stepping on thin ice. No, the marks would have to stay a secret. His parents didn't need to know. They didn't even know that such a thing existed, and that was just fine with Blaine.

Except it was about to change very soon.

Etched Into My Skin - chapter 16

2013-03-13T02:11:23Z

Chapter warnings: violence.

----------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 16

Nationals, the whole New York adventure, had been Kurt's dream for months – getting out of Ohio, even just for a few days, to a place so much bigger, more open, free. He wanted it all so badly, getting to see and taste how it could be, what his future could hold, experiencing it all, dreaming big. He couldn't sleep the night before, vibrating with excitement and repacking his suitcase for the third time to make sure he was prepared for every possible fashion opportunity (including, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, being spotted by a talent hunter and swept right from the competition stage to a recording studio or a Broadway audition).

And those few days were everything he'd hoped for – a glimpse of the New York life with its rush, its lights, its possibilities, that left Kurt utterly enchanted. Window-shopping at the designer boutiques – never mind that it would be years before he could afford to actually buy anything at any of them – gave him happy chills. Broadway left him breathless. Merely being there sent his heart into an excited gallop, and when he sneaked into the Gershwin theatre with Rachel, standing on that stage felt so right. Like his heart recognized it, like this was where he belonged.

And he did belong here, not just on Broadway, but in the city. For the first time in years, he didn't stand out. There were people in the streets whose outfits made his own feel muted. There were men and women so clearly playing with the gender image that his own looks hardly seemed like a flaw here – not that Kurt considered them to be, but he'd heard enough girl comments over the years to have enough. And the freedom... His eyes stung when he first saw two men kissing hello right at the airport, before they went their way, hand in hand. By the end of the day it no longer took him by surprise every time he saw a same-sex couple, but it kept making him smile – and ache. God, if only Blaine could be here with him...

But Blaine couldn't be there.

In fact, this trip was in many ways a test for them, a challenge. It was the first time they were so far away from each other; first time since becoming boyfriends that they didn't get to meet for more than 48 hours. They had no idea how it would feel – how much the distance affected their connection, how bad the separation sickness would get. Even Tina couldn't help them – she and Mike had never experienced such distance yet.

It turned out to be both more and less bearable than Kurt had expected.

The separation symptoms were milder than ever before, and faded even more the next day. Kurt knew it had to be harder for Blaine, who was stuck in his everyday life back in Ohio instead of being wonderfully distracted by everything around him like Kurt was, but his texts and his voice seemed to confirm that it wasn't that bad. And late on the second night, when all of the girls were already asleep or well on their way, Kurt got the confirmation that their... sexual connection might be slightly weakened by the distance, but was still there.

He couldn't say the same about the emotional one.

In the weeks since they'd discovered that the marks made them channel their most intense emotions, they'd both learned to control it a little, to consciously gauge the emotional state of the other even in the less explosive moments. It was imprecise, only giving them the vague mood rather than specific feelings, but it was comforting nonetheless, like reaching out in the dark and finding the reassurance of the other's presence there.

Except now it didn't work. At all. Kurt kept trying to focus and feel Blaine's mind somewhere out there, his fingers reaching to the mark under his collarbone on instinct, but nothing happened. It was a weird feeling, being aware of all the distance between them diluting their bond. It made him feel untethered and vaguely anxious. Once, he got a faint glimmer of something like distress, but it was so weak and fleeting that he decided he must have imagined it, especially when Blaine answered his concerned text with a sleepy goodnight one.

And want it or not, being in New York made Kurt think about things he wasn't quite ready for. Like college and their inevitable separation.
It sounded completely crazy at their age, especially when they'd only been together for a little over two months so far, but they wanted a future together. And they both wanted to study in New York, so that was not a problem.

No, the problem was the damn age difference.

Of course, Kurt still had over a year until graduation, and anything could happen in that time. He could end up studying somewhere else, closer to home. Their marks could disappear as suddenly as they turned up, they could even break up for some unconceivable reason. But if everything went well...

...they would still end up apart. For the whole school year. States away, unable to meet for weeks, even months on end. With their connection limited by distance, and no way to touch.

That last thought made him freeze in the middle of packing the last of his toiletries. Not being able to touch Blaine for months? The prospect felt like torture. Not because of the intimate, sexual aspect, though obviously, he would miss that too. But more than that, Kurt couldn't imagine not having access to the ultimate comfort of skin-on-skin contact with Blaine. He didn't know if it was a mark thing or just their thing, but they both craved – needed – each other's touch like they needed air. Even just a bit of skin touching, like hands brushing under the table, did the trick – soothing, comforting, reassuring. It felt like his body took Blaine's presence as a promise that it was safe, that everything was alright, no matter how tilted the world might feel at any particular moment. It took the comfort of holding someone's hand, or a hug, to a whole new level. Losing this would be like... well, like going back to the time before he'd met Blaine, made even worse by the fact he now knew the difference.

"Kurt? What's wrong?" Tina took the forgotten toiletry bag out of his hand and put it in his suitcase, and Kurt jerked back to reality.

"Oh! No, nothing, I just thought about... college and the, you know–" He gestured to her wrist. There were too many people around to spell it out.

Tina frowned, but then her eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you said Blaine was on board with studying in New York?"

"He is, but he'll have to graduate first, won't he?" She still looked confused, so Kurt rolled his eyes. "Blaine is a sophomore, Tina."

"He is? I was sure he’s your age, he said something once... oh well, I must have misunderstood. Anyway, hey, welcome to our world. Mike is already looking into local programs and community classes to fill up the year before we can both apply to our dream schools."

Kurt stopped in the process of zipping up his suitcase. "Really? And his parents are okay with it?"

Tina shrugged. "Of course. We're soulmates, we're not supposed to be apart, especially for such a long time. Our parents decided it makes more sense than me changing schools and moving away with him for my senior year."

"Wow."

"Why, haven't you thought about it? What do you two plan to do?"

Kurt shook his head, unsure what to say. They've never even talked about the year apart yet. College still felt ages away. Or had, until now.
Loud knocking on the door saved him from answering, Mr. Schue's voice coming through. "I want to see everyone down in the lobby in five minutes. No stalling guys, we have a plane to catch."

Kurt checked his carry-on bag one last time and rolled his suitcase out of the room, taking a chance to escape his friends for a short moment and collect himself. He and Blaine needed to have a serious talk. Just... maybe not yet. It could wait until summer, when they'd have more time together and everything would be easier, more relaxed without school. They could talk then.

If nothing more, it gave Kurt time to think.

***

Blaine's mom didn't like Kurt. Not that he'd honestly expected anything else, but a boy can dream, right?

He'd decided it was time for his parents to meet Kurt a week before the school year ended – they had the whole summer to look forward to and other than Blaine's short stint at Six Flags and Kurt's part-time job at his father's garage, those two months looked like paradise, boyfriend-time-wise. It seemed reasonable to start getting his parents used to the sight of the two of them in the same location, especially considering that the Anderson house had a large backyard with a swimming pool and a hammock. It felt criminal not to use those on the inevitably hot summer days, no matter how much Kurt whined about UV and chlorine and mosquitoes. Blaine knew he would be able to sway him when the time came. He could be very persuasive when needed.

Except now he wasn't sure Kurt would even want to come over anymore if things continued to be the way they were.

They were never home alone. His father hadn't actually met Kurt yet, but his mom... Blaine honestly couldn't remember the last time she had spent so much time at home, especially in the summer when her country club and her friends usually kept her busy. But this year, whenever he announced he'd be inviting Kurt over, his mom just miraculously didn't have anything planned and spent her time puttering loudly around the house or doing things in the backyard. And it wouldn't even be that bad – annoying, yes, but oh well, all parents were like that when their teenage kids wanted time alone, right? But it was not just a question of privacy, or lack of it.

His mom never missed the opportunity to throw Kurt disapproving glances; she wasn't even trying to be subtle about it. And whenever she deigned to speak to Kurt – which wasn't often – her voice was so cold Blaine was pretty sure it made the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. Really, he barely recognized the lovely, gracious hostess she was known to be.

And Blaine could see how hard it was on Kurt. It wasn't killing him the way it would Blaine if he was the one clearly disapproved of – no, Kurt wasn't a people-pleaser, he didn't need acceptance to live. He'd had plenty of ostracism in his life, but it had usually been loud and direct, making it something he could deal with, one way or another: defend himself, snark back, pointedly ignore the hater. But this time, he didn't even get that luxury. Nothing was out in the open and Blaine could see that Kurt was trying so very hard to be polite and not let it affect him, trying for Blaine's sake, but it was frustrating him to no end.

It was only a matter of time before the situation would explode, Blaine knew. And it terrified him. Both Kurt and his mom had a temper, so it wouldn't be pretty.

He tried to talk to his mom, but she acted like there was nothing to talk about, like he exaggerated. And as much as he wanted to believe that the tension would dissolve eventually, it only seemed to grow, leeching away half the pleasure of being with Kurt. So two weeks into the summer vacation, Blaine gave up. They were always welcome at Kurt's house, and even though they had no privacy at all there either, it was better than here.

Kurt frowned when he told him, and it took Blaine all of two seconds to read his reaction.

"No, no, Kurt, it's not your fault, they are just... really stupidly stubborn sometimes, and I wish I could do something about it, but it just doesn't work, and I don't want you to have to endure it anymore."

Kurt nodded and kissed him. "I don't care where we are, as long as it's with you."

And that should have been the end of it – it would have been, if they hadn't run into Blaine's mom when they went to the kitchen to get some ice cream. Kurt was up front, greeted with another wordless glare, and Blaine could feel Kurt's restraint snap. It happened too fast, he didn't have time to stop Kurt before the words were out.

"Why do you hate me so much? All I've ever done is love your son, is that so wrong?"

Uh-oh. Blaine closed his eyes. Here it came.

When he opened them, his mom was standing in front of Kurt, scary despite her tiny form, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Oh yes, of course, you love him so much that you don't even care about his safety or comfort, do you?"

"Wha-" Kurt started, stunned, but she wouldn't let him speak.

"You don't care that he very nearly died last year at the hands of bullies – no, of course not, it doesn't matter as long as you have your prom, and your boyfriend at your school where you want him. And the way you look, the way you dress – it only pulls attention, doesn't it? And maybe you're fine with it, the way it puts you in danger, but when you're with Blaine, you're putting him in danger, too. On his own, he can easily pass as normal, but with you? Not a chance. So forgive me for not thinking that you are good for my son, Kurt. Because you're not. You will only get him hurt."

Blaine had never heard his mom use this tone, so cold and sneering, and god, she had it all wrong. But before he could say anything, Kurt whirled around, his face pale and eyes lowered, and with a whispered I'm sorry shot right past him and back up the stairs to Blaine's room.
Blaine's first instinct was to go after him, but he paused.

"Mom? First of all, I am normal, we both are, and I have no intention of passing and pretending I'm not who I am. And second, he doesn't know anything about it. Not that I want to transfer, nor how bad Sadie Hawkins was. I only told him I'd been attacked, and he gave up the idea of prom immediately. It was all me, mom, my own choices."

Her face fell for a moment, doubt creeping in, but then she frowned again. "So you don't even trust him enough to tell him?"

Blaine just shook his head, incredulous, and ran up to his bedroom.

He found Kurt pacing the room, his hands shaking and lower lip white where his teeth dug in. His eyes were wet when he faced Blaine, haunted.

"You nearly died? It was that bad? Why didn't you tell me?"

Blaine came up to him and took his hands.

"I'm sorry. I just... I didn't want you to pity me or... I don't know, see me differently, I guess?" He admitted honestly. "From the moment we met, you've always looked up to me, you know? And I knew that if you saw the whole picture, you'd realize there's nothing to admire, really. And... the past is past, why bother digging it up anyway?"

"Because I want to know everything about you, and that includes your past. Because apparently that past still affects you and I've had no idea, Blaine, do you know how that feels? And no matter what happened, I'm not going to admire or love you less because of it. You're you, and I love you." Kurt's face softened. "Please tell me."

Blaine sighed and closed the door, then led Kurt to the armchair by the bed. "Are you sure? It's not gonna be pretty, and with the connection between us–"

"I'm sure."

Blaine breathed out and climbed onto the bed to sit cross-legged, facing Kurt. "Okay then. You should know though... I have some anxiety issues, and talking about this may stir them up." Kurt looked like he'd never really seen him before, and Blaine forced himself to push through. "I have meds that I can take if it gets bad, but before they start to work... that's a scary feeling, Kurt, so you should maybe try and shield yourself from the empathy if possible."

Kurt just nodded, looking spooked, and Blaine put his chin on his fists and started.

"I told you that we were attacked after the Sadie Hawkins dance, me and Andy. The attackers... there were three of them, and they were drunk. At first it was just words, the usual, run-off-the-mill homophobic stuff, but soon it wasn't enough for them, so they started... pushing us, at first. Then one of them decided we needed to be taught – I still don't know what we were supposed to learn – but then they were... punching and kicking, more and more vicious, and... I don't really remember every blow and every minute of it, just that it felt like eternity, and it hurt everywhere, and the sounds, god, the sound of human flesh colliding with a boot, Kurt–"

His voice was unsteady now, but he was holding on. Kurt's face looked tortured, and they hadn't even gotten to the worst yet.

"The last look of Andy that I got, he was bloody and unmoving, and I really thought he might be dead because he no longer made any sounds, he was just lying there. I tried to say something, to beg them to let us go, but my voice didn't work – nothing worked properly anymore." Blaine took a deep breath. "And then they decided that, and I quote, trash belongs with trash, and–"

"They didn't." It was barely a whisper, and Kurt looked sick. Blaine very much wanted to comfort him, tell him that it wasn't that bad, but–

"Yeah, they did. They hauled me up and dropped me into a dumpster. They were trying to push Andy in, too, but then a car came into the parking lot, so they left him and ran."

This was the moment where he started shaking, his breathing turning shallow and erratic. The memory of that fear and helplessness was much worse than that of the pain alone. He'd take pain over those any day. Talking was getting more difficult, but he fought it, pushed through the ghosts of that night, even when words felt like sharp little shards in his throat.

He remembered how hard he'd hit the bottom of the almost empty dumpster, how his whole body had seized in pain of the graceless landing, and what it had felt like to discovered that he could barely move, or even make a sound, through the pounding in his head and back. How Andy's father screamed and then attempted to awaken his son; how Blaine was trying to call out, stand up, anything to get the man to notice he was there, too. He told Kurt about the blinding, choking terror of the realization that there was no way for him to get out of there when the car sped out of the parking lot, carrying his friend to safety. How he stayed there, trapped and alone in the dark, battered and completely, utterly helpless.

By this time Blaine's heart was pounding, too fast and stuttering, and he couldn't get enough air through his tightened throat. He knew he was just panicking, he'd been through this before; knew he had to get to his Xanax – it was so close, just in his desk drawer. But it felt impossible to get there when all he could focus on was breathing, moving the right muscles, in, out, in, because his body seemed to have forgotten how to do it on its own.

The bed dipped, Kurt, right, Kurt was here, he should – he must be freaking Kurt out, he should... do something, but–

Kurt settled against his back, hands hovering uncertainly around him, and Blaine slumped back with a harsh exhale, grabbing onto Kurt's arms, tugging at them, and Kurt got it immediately, pressing him close, snug against his chest.

"Baby? What can I do to help? Where do you keep your meds, how can I–?" Kurt sounded breathless himself, scared.

"No." Blaine breathed out. Then, when he managed to get enough air again – "Just hold me."

It felt safer like this, even with his brain still insisting he was dying; Kurt's hand sliding under his t-shirt, skin on skin, and Blaine was able to breathe a tiny bit easier. He focused on that, Kurt and safe and breathing for a long, long while, until the iron bar around his chest loosened and then dissolved into nothing, leaving him exhausted and still trembling, but mostly calm. It felt like a miracle. He stirred in Kurt's arms eventually and took a deep breath.

"You don't have to tell me anything more." Kurt sounded guilty, tortured. "I'm sorry, I had no idea... I shouldn't have put you through this."

"No. I want you to know all of it, now that I started. Just, don't let go." He was eager to finish the story, get it over with.

"Of course." Kurt squeezed his hand and Blaine commenced speaking, voice only a little rough and winded.

"What followed was the scariest night of my life. I was alone, curled up in pain at the bottom of a dumpster by the empty parking lot, and I knew that no one would really look for me until Monday. My parents were away in Columbus and had no idea that I'd gone to the dance, Andy was unconscious, and my phone was lying somewhere in the dark, probably smashed after being kicked out of my hand. It was February, freezing cold, and I wasn't even dressed for the weather, seeing how we were supposed to be driven both ways. I... I really thought I was going to die there, Kurt." Blaine's throat hurt, clenched tight around the confession, and Kurt's arms around him tightened too, both hands now on the bare skin of his stomach, soothing. "I don't know how long I lay there. It was quiet and I've never felt so alone in my life. I was getting dizzy, disoriented, and eventually I was shivering so hard it was the only thing I could think of, the cold. I just... I wanted it to stop. It's pathetic, but instead of some burst of strength, determination to survive, to pull myself out of there no matter what, I just prayed for it to end."

He heard a muffled sob and half-turned in Kurt's embrace, sliding his arms around Kurt's waist and nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"Hey, I'm still here. I didn't die, I'm right here."

"Yeah, but you could have died and–" Fresh tears on Kurt's face, and Blaine slid out of his embrace and pulled him to lay on the bed together, their limbs tangling immediately. Kurt waited until he was safely pressed against Blaine before he spoke again. "So how did you get out?"

"Someone pulled me out, later that night. I don't know who it was, I was barely conscious by the time he jumped into the dumpster, and I passed out as soon as he hauled me up, the pain was just too much. But I've always thought it must have been one of those three guys who'd beaten us up. I came to when I hit the ground in the hospital parking lot, and the car sped away at once. I managed to... basically crawl, a little, until someone noticed me and took me inside." He shuddered, remembering the next few hours, and Kurt held him closer. "It still felt like hours before my parents came. I've never been at a hospital before, not as a patient, and no one wanted to tell me anything. They were just talking over me, about tests and a surgery, and then I freaked out during an MRI because I felt trapped again and they had to sedate me. And... it was the best feeling in the world, Kurt, finally getting to switch it all off. The rest I know from my parents – I went in for an emergency surgery because there was some bleeding in my brain, and between that and some hypothermia, I didn't wake up afterward like I was supposed to. I was... in a coma, I guess, for three days."

"Oh my god."

Blaine shrugged. That part had been actually easy for him, considering he'd been unconscious and unaware of the hell his parents had been enduring, not knowing if he'd wake up at all.

"There was some time at the hospital afterwards, and then weeks at home with broken ribs and a fractured wrist, followed by some physical therapy, and months of psychotherapy because I was getting panic attacks for no reason, and... I never went back to that school. Come September, I started at Dalton, but I was held back a year because of all the absences, so... now I'm here."

Kurt didn't say anything for a very long time, just held onto him as if afraid to let go. His face was still wet.

When his tears dried off, he kissed Blaine, deep and desperate and there, and even though they couldn't really do more than that, he kept kissing him right until the moment he had to go home, and even then he turned back from the door twice before he actually went. His eyes never lost that haunted look.

Blaine's mom was nowhere to be seen for a while, but she came out of the laundry room when Kurt was gone, looking almost contrite.

"Okay, so I may have judged him too harshly. I'm sorry, I... you can tell Kurt he's welcome here."

Well, that was a start.

Etched Into My Skin - chapter 15

2013-03-05T11:06:50Z

CHAPTER 15

Not a day passed this week without Blaine regretting he'd told his parents that he had a boyfriend. It wasn't that they were giving him a hard time over it – not really, considering they didn't touch the subject. They were just so attentive all of the sudden, it made everything much more complicated.

Blaine was used to being left to fend for himself. Having his own credit card to pay for gas and other basic needs, barely any parental control over his whereabouts – that was his normalcy and had been for a few years now. So the way his parents were suddenly interested in everything about his life, from his grades and academic achievements to his gas expenses and what he was doing in his free time was honestly disconcerting. Not to mention annoying, especially when it interfered with his Kurt time. He should study more, drive around less and definitely spend more time with his family, he was told.

They were trying, Blaine could tell – his mom was home most afternoons this week, and even his father came in from work in time for dinner. They tried to initiate actual family time, too – watching TV together one evening, going to a restaurant they all liked two days later. But any attempts at conversation were falling short – be it from lack of practice over the last few years, or the fact that his parents kept carefully avoiding anything even remotely related to Blaine's sexuality.

It didn't really leave them with many topics because, well, it was just one of the things that made him him, an inseparable part of his everyday life and experiences, not something that could be forgotten, a bad habit that could be glanced over. How could he talk about himself out of this context? He had a boyfriend and a past that was at least in part shaped by the fact that he was gay. He had issues resulting from said past that still influenced his daily life in one way or another, and his dreams and plans all included Kurt. It was really quite impossible to avoid the topic altogether. But Blaine's father in particular seemed to be dead set on avoiding it, and the result was a lot of stumbling over awkward pauses before they settled on superficial, neutral subjects again.

Still, Blaine appreciated the effort, he really did. He just didn't know what exactly they were trying to achieve. Because so far, it seemed to bring all of them more frustration than anything else. And not just the domestic kind.

Between his mom being home more often and Kurt's family always looking in on them or engaging them in whatever they were doing every time they were there, Blaine had been unable to do anything more than steal a chaste kiss from his boyfriend all week. And with last week's developments and their promise of next time... well, their hormones were going sort of crazy.

So when Saturday morning came and Kurt texted that he had a surprise for him that afternoon, Blaine's mind immediately shot to empty houses and time alone, and he grinned into his pillow. It took a lot of effort to talk his way out of going shopping with his mom – which was definitely not his idea of fun even if the alternative wasn't Kurt – but he managed, and mere hours later he was sitting opposite Kurt at the Breadstix table, trying to look calm and composed while internally he shook with happy anticipation.

"Give me your hand."

Kurt was so excited he was practically bouncing with some news he couldn't seem to contain for long, and for a second, absurdly, Blaine thought He's going to tell me he's coming back to Dalton.

He wasn't.

"Blaine Warbler," the nickname still made Blaine chuckle every time it was used. "Will you go to junior prom with me?"

The chuckle died on his lips. Oh.

"Prom?" That was the big surprise?

"It will be the social event of the season." Kurt grinned and bounced in his seat, but then his face fell. "You don't want to go to prom with me?"

"No, no no, of course I want to go with you." Blaine stuttered, unwelcome images already crowding his mind, making him dizzy. "It's just." He took a steadying breath. "Prom."

"What about prom, Blaine?" Kurt arched an eyebrow. He still looked slightly hurt but clearly could sense Blaine's discomfort now. His hand, withdrawn a moment ago, returned to hold Blaine's over the table.

He didn't really want to talk about it. It was in the past. But this was Kurt, and he deserved to know, so Blaine swallowed to try and dislodge the lump stuck in his throat.

"At my old school, there was a Sadie Hawkins dance," he started, "and... I had just come out. So I asked a friend of mine, the only other gay guy in the school. While we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, these three guys... um." It was getting harder to speak, memories swirling in his head, painfully sharp and vivid, suffocating. "Beat the living crap out of us." That was the closest to the truth he could get right now, and he hoped Kurt wouldn't ask for details. Surprised like this, thrown back into the shadows of that dreadful night without a warning, he wouldn't be able to keep calm, and he didn't have his meds with him.

Kurt didn't ask. He looked stunned, his eyes wide and tearful.

"I... I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"I'm out, and I'm proud, this is just... a sore spot." Blaine rushed to reassure him, and Kurt squeezed his suddenly sweaty hand.

"No, I understand. Let's forget about prom. We'll go to a movie instead."

The rush of relief, of pressure lifting, made him lightheaded.

"I'm crazy about you."

That should have been the end. But as Blaine drove home that night, the thought wouldn't leave him.

He was still running. Over a year had passed, and he was still running away from his past. He'd let the bullies chase him away from his old school, from himself, to the golden cage that was Dalton. He'd let them steal his sense of safety, his confidence, let them haunt him even now, after all this time. He was still on the run.

Maybe it was time to stop and face his fears. It would be hard and scary, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to do it just for himself, by himself.

But he wasn't by himself anymore.

His parents were in the living room when he came home, and Blaine took it as a sign that he should just get on with it right away. He entered the room and sat down in the armchair opposite them, slightly trembling hands folded in his lap. His mom lowered her book.

"Hello, honey. How was your day?"

"It was good. We went to lunch and had coffee with some friends, and then watched a movie."

"It sounds nice." His mom's smile was only slightly off. It was clearly hard not think who exactly we entailed when Blaine had referred to his outing as a date this morning. Loudly and repeatedly.

"It was. Actually, I wanted to let you know that I have plans for next weekend."

"Oh?" Even his father looked up over his business magazine now. Blaine hardly ever told them of his plans, let alone a week in advance.

"Yeah, I'm going to junior prom at McKinley. With Kurt." He was proud of how smoothly it came out, no nervous stutter at all.

His mom's book hit the carpeted floor with a muted thump. But it was his father who spoke.

"You're doing no such thing. Did you forget what happened the last time you had a brilliant idea to go to a dance with another guy? One would think it had taught you something."

Blaine took a steadying breath and looked into the cool grey eyes, determined not to flinch, not to let them provoke him this time.

"No, dad. It didn't teach me anything because I fled. I didn't give myself a chance to learn. And yes, I know I needed it back then, but the truth is, it's something that I regret to this day." Something like surprise ran over his father's usually stoic features. It was the first time Blaine had said it to anyone but Kurt. He glanced at his mom. Her eyes were wide and glassy. "I've been hiding for the last year, and I've had enough. I understand that you don't want me to change schools now, fine. But I want to do this at least. I'm not the same kid I was back then. I'm stronger, I know how to defend myself if needed. I'll be with my boyfriend and our friends, and I'll be smart, no going out alone. But I need to do this, to face the bullies at his school at least, together, since I wasn't able to face them at mine."

Frankly, he expected a decisive no. He had no plan for that scenario, all of his arguments spent in the first round. But his mom asked instead, her voice tight.

"There are bullies?"

"Of course there are bullies, mom, it's a high school in Ohio. The whole world is full of bullies and I can't change it. This is my life, mine and Kurt's. There will always be bullies and homophobes and all kinds of assholes, and I can only learn to face them because I sure as hell can't avoid them forever, Dalton or not."

"Language." His father quipped, then took his time closing his magazine and putting it away, carefully straightening the whole stack before he continued. "Fine. If you think you're ready to make such a decision, even knowing what the consequences may be, then I won't stop you."

Blaine looked at him, incredulous. "Really?"

"Really. I still think it's a bad idea. But you're old enough to learn from your own mistakes." He got up and walked over to the liquor cabinet to pour himself some whiskey. The conversation was clearly over, and Blaine still couldn't believe the outcome.

"I... you... thank you, dad."

He called Kurt as soon as he got back to his room.

"I'll go."

"What? Where?" Kurt sounded confused and a bit distracted, sounds of his family in the background, and Blaine grinned.

"I'll go to prom with you."

Even if he hadn't heard the happy squeal, he would have felt Kurt's reaction. It was a sweeping wave of surprised, bubbly joy that left him warm all over and made it easy to push any lingering doubts and apprehension to the back burner of his mind.

***

"And now, the 2011 McKinley High prom queen, with an overwhelming number of write-in votes, is... Kurt Hummel."

Figgins' thoughtlessly surprised frown. The lights – too bright, too harsh – finding Kurt in the crowd. Sudden silence around him, broken by a whoop, a laugh, solitary applause. Faces everywhere, a sea of faces all turning towards him, carefully blank or sneering or openly hostile. Everything seemed hyperreal, every detail sharp like a movie with resolution too high for the human eye to watch.

Kurt ran.

He'd been so stupid. He thought that his coming back, and everything that led to it, had changed something, that some kind of progress had been made with Karofsky's apologies and the Bully Whips and the chapter of PFLAG they were starting now. But nothing had changed. The hate was still there, strong as ever – maybe stronger, since it didn't have an easy way out now. They couldn't push him against lockers anymore, or yell slurs in his face, so they showed him what they thought in a different way. A silent way. Whispers instead of shouts.

He barely heard the footsteps behind him, Blaine's voice calling his name, begging him to stop, over the pounding in his head. But he did stop. There was nowhere to run anyway. Even if he wanted to, the was no escape from this.

Blaine's face was pale and worried when Kurt whipped around to look at him. He didn't try to come closer or touch Kurt or – god forbid – hug and comfort him, and Kurt was so grateful because he felt like he'd suffocate if he didn't have space around him right now. But this was Blaine. He knew. He understood.

This was Blaine, so Kurt just let go, let the mess of emotions out, let himself rage and rant and cry the angry tears, open like he never was with anyone, except maybe his dad. He had only enough strength to either hold up his walls and pretend to be fine, or deal with his feelings right now, but not both, and while with anyone else he'd have chosen the former, this was Blaine. So with a blind trust that he'd be accepted even at his most raw and vulnerable, Kurt let the anger and the fear and the heartbreak run through him, unhidden. A sweeping wave that came and hurt and shook him, and then passed, and Blaine was still there, patiently waiting with no expectations, no ready-made advice to force upon him. Just a soft "So what do you want to do?" and those eyes, full of awe and love when Kurt decided. And then a hand, strong and steady in his, all the support he needed.

The hand that was there again ten minutes later when the music started and Karofsky fled, leaving Kurt humiliated – again, would this never end? – and alone in the empty circle of the dance floor, with every eye and every light on him, the plastic crown on his head heavy like lead. Blaine's hand was a lifeline, a promise, and right there, even though Kurt could feel the fear radiating from him even through his own emotions.

He'd never loved Blaine more than in this moment.

Stepping into his arms, even just as close as the situation allowed for the dance, was like home, the safest place there was for Kurt. Their skin touching was instant comfort on what felt like a cellular level; he could feel his mind and body calm down within seconds.

They were together, this was what counted. They were there for each other, and with each other, always, and no one could touch them, or what they had. Ever.

***

"Mr. Hummel?"

Blaine had left Kurt alone just for a moment, I'll be right back whispered into his ear, with no response.

He found Kurt's dad in the kitchen, his face grim, and this was probably too much, what he was going to ask for, too forward – but he would ask anyway. There was no room to be nervous right now; he needed to do this, for Kurt.

"Blaine. How is he?"

"He's... overwhelmed. It really got to him, what they did, those fuc– um. Sorry. It just... I can't stand feeling him so brokenhearted because of a bunch of... ugh." Apparently he still couldn't talk about it without swearing, so he shut up.

Kurt's dad nodded. His eyes looked bloodshot and tired. "How about you?"

"Me?" It was such a strange question.

"Kurt told me you have a... history, with school dances."

Oh. Blaine honestly had to stop and think. There had been no time, no room in him yet to measure his own emotions. "I... I've been better." He admitted finally. "But I'll be fine."

Another nod. "Do you have to go now?"

Blaine took a deep breath. "Actually, that's what I... I know it's a lot to ask, but... would you let me stay with Kurt tonight? Just to be there for him. I think – I know – he really needs it right now. Needs me." He felt his cheeks warm up with blush. It wasn't a thing he had ever thought he'd say to his boyfriend's father.

Mr. Hummel looked at him without saying a word for a moment, eyes piercing, inquisitive. "So... you can feel him, then, the way he says this connection or whatever works? You two really have this crazy name thing?"

Blaine was already untucking his shirt, nodding. He couldn't help but brush the name on his skin as the cool air hit it.

"They say it means some kind of destiny, I read, when two people have each other's." Kurt's father said. He was looking at the mark with an unreadable expression and Blaine felt like squirming under his gaze. "Soulmates, some even call it."

"I know." Blaine said softly. He secretly loved that word.

"What do you think?"

"I think they're right."

Mr. Hummel got up and busied himself with pouring a glass of water, his face turned away from Blaine. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Do you need me to call your parents to tell them you're staying?"

"Um, no, thank you. I will deal with them." He'd have to lie, of course, but that was the least of his worries right now.

Kurt's father looked like he knew, but he just nodded.

"Okay. Go to Kurt, kid." Blaine was already on the move but he stopped and turned when he heard his name again. "Thank you for taking care of him."

"Of course, Mr. Hummel."

"And for god's sake, call me Burt."

Kurt was curled on the bed, still in his prom outfit, the way Blaine left him five minutes ago. He looked small and vulnerable now, no longer the fierce boy who'd gone up on that stage to take the prom queen crown and title like he was born for it. Now he just looked exhausted and broken. Blaine kneeled by the bed and started unlacing Kurt's boots.

"Come on baby. Let's get you into PJs and to bed."

Kurt stirred and looked up at him, his eyes wide and glassy. "Do you have to go soon?"

"No." He pulled off one boot, then the other, and put them neatly away by the end of the bed. "I'm not going anywhere. I talked to your dad and... I can stay the night. Here with you."

Kurt hadn't cried yet – not since that moment outside the gym. Not when he'd asked to go home instead of to the party with the rest of New Directions. Not in the car or while recounting the events to his dad, not even when they were finally alone in his room. Everything had been growing and swelling inside him until he seemed ready to burst with too much emotions. But he hadn't cried.

Until now.

It was as if Blaine's promise to stay burst the dam, as if it was the permission to let go. The next thing Blaine knew, he had an armful of sobbing boyfriend pressed tightly against his chest, wave upon wave of misery rushing through his own brain until he felt his eyes sting and overflow.

It was so fucking unfair, what they had done, those cowardly, faceless haters. Just a cruel, mean joke that was probably funny for them – and so much pain. This was what the world had in store for them; this was what they were up against. Hundreds – thousands of people like those. It felt so hopeless sometimes.

"We'll be okay. They can't break us."

Kurt's voice was scratchy but he wasn't crying anymore, just curled against his chest, his hand sliding under Blaine's shirt to press protectively against the name there. Blaine wanted to mimic the move, but Kurt was still fully dressed, his shirt buttoned up, the bowtie tight against the collar, and it was too much, too hard to fight all those layers right now. He whined faintly and Kurt let go of him and pushed up to stand. His eyes still bright from tears, but calm now, certain, he slid off his jacket and untied the bowtie.

"Let's go to bed, shall we?"

They both showered quickly, separately. Blaine took a moment to call his parents with an easy lie about the post-prom party they were supposed to be at; Kurt went to say goodnight to his dad. And then they were in bed together, the first time since that night after Rachel's party – the first time as boyfriends, and it felt perfect, exactly what they both needed, as they held each other in the dark.

This was also the most intimate they'd ever been – alone, under the covers together, with the door closed and only the thin cotton of their t-shirts and pajama pants between them. Or – one pair of pants, because Blaine was in his boxer briefs, his bare legs tangled with Kurt's, everything so close and warm, so intense. He really couldn't be blamed for his body reacting. And it didn't matter, anyway. They would just cuddle through the night like this – Kurt's head on his shoulder, his hand over the mark on Blaine's hipbone, his breath tickling Blaine's neck.

Except it wasn't just his breath anymore – Kurt's lips were there, soft and gentle, slowly kissing their way up to his jaw. Kurt's hand slid up under the t-shirt to rest over Blaine's heart, his pinky brushing over a nipple, and Blaine turned his head to capture Kurt's mouth.

They kissed with no hurry, simply enjoying the closeness, the warmth of hands under t-shirts, the luxury of having the whole night together. But Kurt was so tempting – soft skin over firm muscles, his scent all fresh and minty, his quickening breath – and so Blaine stumbled, just a little, falling deeper into a kiss, hard and hungry, until he caught himself and retreated, apologizing. It wasn't the time for this.

Or maybe it was.

The apology was kissed off his lips, any trace of it sucked thoroughly clean as Kurt's tongue dove into his mouth, hot and insistent, and Blaine tangled his fingers into Kurt's silky hair and lost himself in it. He would never get tired of kissing like this, he could do this all through the night, or fall asleep with Kurt's lips on his own, and wake up only to start again.

Kurt's fingers were frantic under Blaine's shirt, dancing over skin and clenching on air, and then Kurt was moving, pressing closer and rolling on top of him, straddling his thighs and sucking on the side of Blaine's neck, and–

Kurt was hard. Hard and pressing right against him, and Blaine almost choked on the moan he was doing his very best to swallow.

"Kurt." It took every last shred of his willpower to say what he was about to say, but he had to, he couldn't just... take advantage of the situation. "Kurt, we can't, come on, not like that, not tonight when you're so upset. I don't want this to happen just to drown out the prom."

"It's not." Kurt raised his head and even in the darkness his eyes were bright and certain, his whisper unwavering. He kept his hips still, but there. "It's not because of that. It's because I want you, and I love you, and the only thing it has to do with what happened earlier is that you take my breath away. You were so brave in there, so stunning, my own real life prince."

"Except you're no damsel in distress, you don't need saving."

"No, but I need to be loved, and you do. You love me so perfectly, Blaine, you make me feel so loved. Honestly, all those people out there, I think half of them are simply jealous because they don't have what we do, and they want to, because they can see how special it is, what we have. And I love you, and you're so gorgeous, and so hot and–" Kurt's hips twitched, a sharp press down that made Blaine's eyes roll back in his head. "I want you. Want you so much, want to make you come, want to see you–" Kurt's breath was stuttering now, his hips rolling slowly as he spoke, and Blaine managed to muffle a groan with his hand at the very last second.

"But your dad–"

"We'll be quiet, so quiet, please." Kurt was gasping and kissing his neck. "I'll stop if you want me to, but–"

"No, don't. Don't stop, just... kiss me." He honestly didn't think he'd be able to keep quiet otherwise.

What followed was a slow, delicious build-up as they rocked against each other and shivered and kissed desperately, too sloppy and wet and perfect. It was hot under the covers and everything was slowed down and careful because the bed creaked sometimes and because they wanted this to last, to revel in every sensation that seemed multiplied, sublimated by the dark and the silence.

It was too dark to see every detail of Kurt's face when he finally came, tensing and arching up over Blaine, his mouth open in a silent cry, but what Blaine could see was absolutely breathtaking, pushing him over the edge he'd been clinging to so fast he almost forgot to muffle his moan in Kurt's shoulder, right against his mark. And coming together felt... different, not like the phantom orgasms at all. More like an echo of sensations between their bodies and minds, spreading and bouncing back and forth, overwhelming with the completeness of it.

Blaine had read somewhere once that no matter how close two people having sex were, the moment of orgasm was always a solitary experience.

Well, for them it wasn't.

Afterwards, they were cuddly and giggly, and increasingly uncomfortable in the mess between their overheated bodies. Kurt slid off him with a happy sigh, only to groan at the stickiness.

"We need to change, there's no way I'm sleeping in this mess." He paused, eyebrow arching. "Oh. You don't have spare underwear, do you?"

"Nope. Somehow I hadn't predicted my amazing boyfriend might have this kind of plans tonight. He's a perfect gentleman after all, not one to give into the cliché of having sex after prom."

Kurt grinned. "Oh? Sounds classy, that boyfriend of yours. I should meet him some day." He bit his lip then, thoughtful. "But back to the underwear problem... would it be weird if I let you borrow mine?"

Blaine hadn't even thought of it, but... guh. He cleared his throat. "Maybe a little weird? But I could live with that."

Let's Play Pretend - "But that's another story entirely..."

2013-03-02T02:01:22Z

Warning: The video under the cut contains spoilers, don't watch until you've read the whole story! And please remember to send love to the creator of all the gorgeous visual content of LPP, Hachi :)

Let's Play Pretend - epilogue

2013-02-28T23:38:51Z

A/N: Before you dive into the story finale, let us invite you to join us one more time – tomorrow, at the usual hour (6pm EST), on tumblr (anxioussquirrel and/or headbandxbowties). We'll have a very special video for you. Thank you for taking this journey with us!

-------------------------

The letter comes over two months later, on yet another too hot, early August afternoon when Blaine doesn't know what to do with himself, all alone in the silent house.

There's no return info on the envelope and the stamp is so smudged it's impossible to say where it came from. Even his address is typed. But the neat handwriting on the single sheet of paper inside is unmistakably familiar, and for the first time in weeks, Blaine smiles.

He can't stop smiling.

I keep you with me in my heart
You make it easier when life gets hard

That's it, just two lines, a handful of simple words in the middle of a crisp white sheet. But it's enough. It's a world for Blaine.

They're alive. Kurt is alive.

Blaine doesn't show the note to anyone, or even mention it, but he often opens his journal where it lives now and simply breathes in the knowledge that somewhere out there, Kurt cares enough to let him know they're okay. And once he realizes the lines come from a song, questions never leave his head.

Did Kurt want him to listen to it? Does it have a special meaning?

Can it be that he's telling Blaine that he's in love with him? That they will meet again one day soon?

He has no answers. But the letter is enough to let him start to heal.

---

The fight when Rachel finds out is worse than any they've ever had – and they've had plenty lately. She's pacing the tiny room they rent, looking ready to tear someone to shreds, barely keeping herself in check. Kurt tunes her out somewhere after "One clue, one shred of evidence and they'll find us if they know we're not dead!" It's nothing he hasn't thought about before.

She stops eventually, annoyed with his silence. "Well?"

Kurt just shrugs. "I was careful. And Blaine won't tell anyone."

"How can you be so sure?" Her voice is loud and shrill, and Kurt winces.

"I just am. And... Rach? I know what it feels like to grieve. I don't want this pain for him."

She kneels down in front of him and takes his hands, her eyes pleading, confused. Her voice is soft again, barely more than a whisper.

"But Kurt, he's just a boy. He's not worth risking everything over."

"He is, though." He holds her gaze, open and unafraid, and that's enough for her to read him to the very soul.

He lets her.

"... oh my god. Kurt, are you..."

He waits.

"You love him."

Her eyes are wide, her fingers tight on his hands, almost painfully so, and Kurt leans closer to kiss her forehead.

"I do."

---

By the time school starts again, the "Hummelberry mystery" is swiftly becoming a local urban legend, wrapped in so much bullshit it's nearly unrecognizable. Suicide pact. Murder. Alien abduction. Religious cult. Witness protection gone wrong. Child molestation.

It doesn't help that there was no funeral, not even a memorial service, and Kurt and Rachel's parents quietly moved away during the summer.
Blaine only shrugs when asked for an opinion.

He knows the truth, at least the sliver of it that counts. And he'd never betray their trust. So he just goes back to his books and his Glee and his college applications, waiting. Always waiting.

But there are no more messages, no contact at all, and as months pass, doubt creeps into Blaine's mind. Was the note really from Kurt? Or did he imagine it? The piece of paper is creased and well worn from frequent handling now, and while it still provides proof and settles Blaine's doubts, it doesn't really promise anything.

Maybe it was the only time Blaine will ever hear from them. Maybe the letter is the last memento of an unusual high school love that seemed larger than life, but got cut short.

Maybe he shouldn't spend his whole life waiting.

It's March when he carefully places the note in a box with his most prized possessions, along with the bowtie he just can't wear anymore, and tells himself that life goes on. Since August, he's gone through relief and joy and calm anticipation, through desperate longing and hurt and misery. Now he's just sad.

One quiet evening, after dinner, he tells his parents about Kurt. It doesn't hurt anymore, the name on his tongue still heavy and tear-salty, but worn smooth by time. He speaks of the friendship, the love that grew over months, about their suicide. He explains the siblings' situation, as much as he knows of it, and the need for secrecy, and asks his parents to keep it to themselves, just in case. Even now, he doesn't want to generate gossip by revealing anything private to the world. And his parents can be trusted, he knows. Still, he doesn't mention the letter.

They hug him, his mom crying a little, and tell him that they're sorry for his loss. The fact that he was in love with a boy never even causes a concerned look or a raised eyebrow. What matters is that he loved, and he had his heart broken.

He tries to move on.

It's not easy to feel the spark again when the one deep in his heart is still alive, stubbornly and hopelessly so. Still, he tries. He goes out with a few girls, though never more than three dates; he even has sex twice. It's nice and good and sweet, but it's not it.

He thinks about going out with a boy, even visits a gay bar once. He gets hit on plenty, but no one elicits the same reactions Kurt did. Being there feels wrong, like cheating, so he leaves and doesn't come back.

In May, New Directions finally wins Nationals. Among his ecstatic friends, Blaine can't help but feel the two empty spots by his side where they should be. It's like a phantom pain, still flaring sometimes. He wonders if it will ever disappear for good.

He goes to prom with one of the cheerleaders, a nice, pretty blonde who looks like a dream in her golden dress. Afterwards, they spend the night together in a hotel room. Blaine knows that in five years, he won't even remember her name.

He graduates. He spends his last vacation at home and as soon as August starts, he's in New York. New life, new chances, a clean slate. He finds a job, gets settled in his dorm, starts classes. High school memories slowly start to fade – those most vivid, most important ones among them, though there are still days when they hurt like an open wound.

And then, one rainy night in late October, Blaine opens his door to find a familiar set of stormy blue eyes there.

But that's another story entirely.

THE END

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 10 (of 11)

2013-02-27T23:51:06Z

A/N: Remember when I said that if you squint, there are a few scenes in this story that may need a little warning? I mostly meant this chapter. There’s nothing drastic, but if you’re really easily triggered, proceed with caution.

------------------------------------

They don't win.

They don't even place in the top ten, but somehow, Blaine doesn't mind. Everyone is upset and Santana is out of control, but as they fly home, Blaine can only think of how many amazing, unforgettable moments he's had with Kurt. And Rachel, too, but... Kurt. He's pretty sure he's in love, and not just with the city. And after this morning, he's almost certain New York is it for him. If only he gets accepted, he's going to college there.

He tells that to Kurt as they wait for their baggage, taking great care not to lean too close or seem too intimate after the heady rush of the last three days. Kurt just smiles, his eyes warm and full of affection.

"Can you spare a few hours tomorrow afternoon? Our parents will be gone again..."

And god, can he? Of course he can. He wants nothing more than to hold Kurt close. He wants to kiss him, touch him, see him come apart, all because of Blaine. He wants Kurt for himself. He wants more than secret moments, stolen when no one is looking. He wants to never have to say goodbye, to always have him close.

He wants so much.

"I'll be there."

---

That last day, they go all the way.

Kurt has arranged for them to be alone, just him and Blaine – Rachel didn't even argue when he asked for that one favor, slipping out to the library for the afternoon.

They hardly speak between the fervent kisses and urgent touches, the desperation palpable in the air, or so it seems to Kurt. He feels so raw today, so exposed, and there are whispers and cries in the silence of their attic, there's pleasure and pain, tender strokes and hard thrusts, and it's so much; too much and yet not enough. It will never be enough.

Blaine looks at him with awe and adoration, so breathtaking in his open vulnerability, and Kurt bites down on his own lip as he comes, bites till he feels the coppery taste of blood because he can't let out the words that have been growing inside him secretly for weeks now – he can't; not today, not ever.

Afterwards, they lay together, as close as physically possible, and it feels like love and like goodbye, and Kurt thinks it's the most personal thing he will ever have, something he won't share with anyone, not even Rachel. Something no one will ever be able to take away from him. Not in the short time they have left.

It takes all of Kurt's strength to act normal as they part, but he can only take it so long, crumbling to the floor as soon as the door closes behind his lover. Rachel takes one look at his red-rimmed eyes when she returns and thankfully, she asks nothing, just hugs him tightly. Even this is too much.

"Do you think it was worth it?" Rachel is sitting on the floor, chin propped on her bent knees, her face a little melancholy. "Looking back, would you trade this whole year in exchange for living to be eighteen?"

Kurt shakes his head. Glee, New York, Blaine – he got so much this year, he wouldn't change it for the world. But words get stuck in his throat.

Rachel hums in agreement. "Yeah, me neither."

There's a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes though, and Kurt's immediate instinct is to soothe and reassure.

"We wouldn't get a full year anyway. We just made it easier for them, giving up the fight in exchange for more freedom. I mean, do you really believe the Council would risk waiting with the ceremony until we're legal adults, no matter what our parents said? For others, maybe, but us? We've proven more than once that we're not their usual good little believers, happy to follow whatever path is chosen for us."

Rachel shrugs and sniffs a little. "I guess. It's just–" She breaks and bites her lip.

"Just what?"

"It's really cliché but... I wish I'd had sex, after all. Even just once. Dying a virgin feels like such a waste." She laughs briefly and glances at him, almost shy, and Kurt's eyes widen.

"You're not honestly looking at me right now, are you?"

Her face softens. "No, I know. I'm sorry. It's just a silly regret."

The silence feels heavy between them.

It's getting late and this is the night, the one they've been looking forward to for almost a year now. Everything is ready; their room tidy and devoid of any clues, the note to their parents neatly written and signed by both of them, the USB drive with Kurt's performance on top. They can only wait, now, wait until well after midnight, until the whole town falls asleep and there's no one to stop them – but not too long. Their parents will be back before five in the morning.

Waiting is the worst. There's nothing to do, no use starting a new book or listening to music anymore; they've said their goodbyes to those pleasures, just like to everything else. Everything – except people.

Talking only leads them to details of the plan again, and it's too much. But sitting idly sets Kurt on edge, stirs his thoughts and brings him back to feelings and sensations he hadn't known until a few months ago, and the more he tries to push them away, the more he feels, and he can't. Not anymore. It's over, it has to be.

Except suddenly he knows that he has to, needs to do this one last thing, he can't go just like that. He stands up suddenly.

"I need a moment alone. I'll go up to the roof, get some air –"

He's moving before he's done talking, out on the balcony and up the short ladder, and if he just goes down the trellis on the other side of the house and runs real fast, he'll be back in no time. He has to see Blaine one last time, has to say –

His feet slide on the wet wood of the trellis, his hands catch on the sharp thorns of wild roses, but Kurt manages to get down to the ground quietly enough.

Rachel is already there, arms folded over her chest.

"I knew you'd want to go say goodbye." She shakes her head sadly, as if talking to a stubborn child who has disappointed her. "Kurt, we can't, you know that. No one can suspect anything, and certainly not Blaine. He's in love with you, he'll never let you go if he knows, we can't risk it. You have to –"

"He's in... love with me?" His own voice sounds foreign all of a sudden, there's not enough oxygen in the air. Rachel shrugs and takes his hand to lead him towards the back door.

"Of course he is. Now come on."

Before they leave the car, they hug one last time, short and tight, a goodbye.

"I love you forever."

"I love you too."

It's cold as they get out, so much colder than Kurt expected. Or maybe his violent shivering has nothing to do with the icy drizzle and gusts of chilly wind here by the river. The bridge stands tall and menacing in the darkness, not even close in size to the famous ones, but good enough for their needs, water roiling beneath deep and unforgiving.

Rachel closes the distance in a dozen of light steps and it almost looks like she's dancing – a delicate, lovely ballerina dancing towards oblivion. She perches on the railing and turns towards Kurt, bright eyes and red lips, and he can't help thinking that she'd never looked so beautiful. The shadow of approaching Death gives her a glow some get from love, or when expecting a child. Smiling serenely, she reaches her hand towards Kurt.

"Come, my love." It's a plea and a command, and his feet obey immediately. One step. Two. Three.

He doesn't get to four.

Something seizes, hard and fierce in Kurt's chest, like an old roof caving in, letting air and light flood the room, and it takes a moment to catch his breath, to understand. One more to accept.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" It's just a mild surprise, she thinks he's stalling, but it's not that. Not at all.

"I'm not doing it. I'm not jumping."

"Kurt –?" Her eyes widen.

"No. I want to live. I want to love."

And he does, like he hasn't for the longest time, like he'd forgotten one could. He grabs onto life with everything he has and there's nothing that could make him let go now.

"They won't let you live or love the way you want to when they get their way, you know that, Kurt. They'll do anything to make us like they are, even if it kills us inside. This is not life, not like that." There are tears in Rachel's eyes, he can see. It breaks Kurt's heart. "You said we will always be together, that you will never leave me all alone. You promised, Kurt." She's reaching for him again. "Come on, baby, we've been planning it for so long."

She's begging, but even that won't sway him now that he knows, with absolute certainty: he's not going anywhere.

"No, you have been planning it for so long. I love you, and I don't want to leave you, and I thought I could do it, but I can't, Rach. I can't. Please don't make me."

He can tell he sounds hysterical, and Rachel's getting down from the railing now, suddenly pale.

"I would never make you, baby. I thought you wanted it too, it's not like I'll force you if you don't. And I'm not jumping without you. But what else can we do? We can't go back there, Kurt. We don't have any more time, you know that. It's your birthday tomorrow, and then –"

"– we're getting married." The words they've been avoiding for so long, between them – the words their parents have been repeating like a gospel, like the sweetest promise, for years. They make them shudder, out in the cold air, on the dark bridge on the outskirts of Lima. They make them still in the silence.

"We can run." Suddenly, it's obvious.

Rachel's laugh is mirthless. "Just like that? With nothing but the clothes we're in, without a penny on us? And where would we go? They'd find us in a heartbeat, you know how far the group's net spreads."

"Not if we make it look like we're dead, they won't search too hard then. We'll have to leave the car, but it's for the best. We're smart, we're determined. We'll make it. And as for money–" Kurt reaches into his pocket. A wad of cash, earned secretly with sewing, looks small, but there's well over a thousand there. "I took this with me, just... on a whim. Didn't want to leave it there, they'd just donate it to the cause. It should help for starters."

She looks at him with tearful eyes, just breathing for a moment – they're both breathing heavily, everything on the brink of changing, undecided.

And then she nods.

---

Blaine gets to school early the next morning, despite an unusual amount of traffic by the river. He couldn't sleep, couldn't swallow a bite of his breakfast, too giddy and impatient to see Kurt; to tell him. Yesterday he was too overwhelmed, too full of feverish, breathtaking happiness to speak, so they just kissed goodbye, and Blaine hopes the siblings will be at school already, and he'll manage to take Kurt aside and tell him.

I love you.

He'd never thought the first time he'd say those words would be to a boy, but here it is, and it's perfect. He's in love. He's in love with Kurt, the most wonderful creature in the whole universe, and Kurt cares about him too, he knows that, and they'll be together, they'll find a way, even if they have to hide and do long-distance and wait for college. They'll make it. Blaine just needs to find him and confess.

He nearly bounces through the half-empty halls to his locker, barely aware of the excited whispers or the way people huddle in small groups, talking. Another piece of gossip must have hit McKinley, and Blaine couldn't care less.

He's in love.

Kurt and Rachel aren't there yet, which is unusual, but it's fine. Blaine will just wait for them by his locker, where they meet every morning.

It takes Mike's haunted expression three lockers over to feel the first tremors of unease creep up on him. Mike isn't one to get emotional without good reason.

A cold grip tightens on his heart, unwelcome, and he has to push himself to ask.

"Mike? What's wrong?"

"Oh god, you haven't heard." He shakes his head, clueless, and Mike shuts his locker, stands by him, close – too close, as if – "It's Rachel and Kurt."

And Blaine already wants to cover his ears, to block the news that is undoubtedly, indelibly bad. But his hands seem paralyzed, along with the rest of his body, so he just stands there, unable to block out the rest.

"Blaine, they... they're dead." No. "They've killed themselves last night. Jumped off the bridge together. I'm sorry."

No.

No no no no NO!

It can't be true. Not after–

Mike says something more, something about suicide notes and a car, and Kurt's scarf found floating by the river bank, but Blaine barely hears it over the dull thumping of his heart. The world is muted, fading away, and he can't breathe, the air suddenly thick and choking like the river's brown waters.

He's sent home halfway through the first period, after Mr. Martinez inquires about his paleness and unfocused eyes and Blaine can't choke out a word, and he spends the rest of the day looking up at the ceiling over his bed and seeing nothing except flashes of their moments together, he and Kurt and Rachel. He and Kurt. Them. It's like a film playing right before his eyes, one that he never wants to stop watching. He wants it seared into his retinas, fresh and vivid, and forever there.

Except every picture brings back words, clues, little things that only now click together into understanding; into realizations with edges so sharp they shred him inside. Soon, Blaine feels like he's trapped in a thick cloud of deadly shards of fractured memories, unable to take a proper breath without getting stabbed by remorse, by guilt; by you should have known.

He can't believe he hadn't seen it coming.

He can't believe they're dead.

They can't be.

He didn't even say goodbye.

They never find the bodies.

Sometimes, in the middle of the darkest, most lonely nights, Blaine allows himself the tiniest flicker of hope that it's not because the river's wild current carried them somewhere far, far away.

It's because they're still alive; somewhere, anywhere – but still there, like distant candlelight you can no longer see, but the knowledge of its existence warms your heart.

Sometimes that hope is the only thing that makes him get out of bed in the morning.

-------------------------------------

CHAPTER ART by HACHI:

The bridge

You should have known

Let's Play Pretend: the movie (video)

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 9

2013-02-26T23:09:58Z

New York is everything Blaine has been dreaming of, and more. It's huge and crowded, bright with neon lights and murky where the lights don't reach. It smells of car fumes and street food and, most of all, possibilities. It's a place where dreams come true. It's life itself, and Blaine drinks it up from the minute they get off the plane. It doesn't matter that they only have two hotel rooms for the entire Glee club, or that Mr. Schue disappears as soon as he's done lecturing them on the ground rules for this trip – they have three days and two nights in the city that never sleeps, and Blaine wishes he could give up on sleep, too.

They're in New York.

The first day is the most busy and chaotic. Everyone's in a frenzy of sightseeing and exploring, in couples and little groups, so it's the best opportunity to do something Blaine has been planning for weeks.

"Can I take you out on a proper date tonight?" he blurts out at Kurt as soon as the three of them are out of earshot of their friends. Or they would be, if Rachel's delighted squeal on her brother's behalf wasn't quite that piercing. Kurt's eyes get wide and incredulous.

"Really? A real date? Just the two of us and dressing up and not hiding?"

"Yes." Blaine shoots Rachel a look in case she wanted to invite herself along, but she's just beaming at them. "I called my brother, he spent a few months here last year, and he recommended some nice places. We could go around seven and have a walk afterwards, and still be back for Mr. Schue's curfew at eleven. I wish we could go see a Broadway play, too, but it's too late and–"

"Blaine. I'd love to go on a date with you. Dinner and a walk sound wonderful." Kurt's eyes are sparkling, two bits of bright blue sky, filled with sunshine.

The restaurant is even nicer than Blaine expected after exploring its website. When he talked with Cooper, he said he needed something lovely and classy, but not overly formal, and out of the way enough to avoid being accidentally spotted by his friends.

Of course, it got Coop's attention. "Ooh, my little brother has a secret girlfriend?" he crooned happily.

"Actually..." Blaine bit his lip, but then shrugged. He could just as well say it. He wanted to. "A secret boyfriend."

"Oh." Cooper sounded concerned. "But B – you know you don't have to hide, don't you? Mom and dad will be okay with it."

"Yeah, I know that ours will be. But his definitely won't, so no one can know. Please don't tell anyone?"

"Of course, Squirt. I wouldn't. Now let me look through the box of stuff from the New York filming; I think I have a perfect place for your needs. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Coop." They both knew he meant more than the restaurant.

Now that they are here, Blaine understands why this was the place Cooper recommended most. It's relatively close to their hotel, but with its location in a side street and the simple, subdued sign over the old wooden door it doesn't look like a restaurant a bunch of teenagers – or anyone, really – would choose randomly. But inside, it's magical. Strings of white fairy lights overhead and candles on the red-covered tables create a cozy, intimate atmosphere. The music is soft and hushed, and the smells permeating the air make Blaine's mouth water. The hostess takes one look at their joined hands – such a simple thing, and yet it made Blaine shiver with joy when Kurt's fingers found his – and smiles, leading them to a secluded nook where they can have privacy. When she comes back with the menus, she puts a vase with a single white rose on the table.

The food turns out to be delicious and Kurt is absolutely charming, heart-stoppingly beautiful, and they don't talk about school or parents or Rachel, don't touch the subject of the impending separation. They just let themselves be who they are, for once, away from the rules and limits put upon them by others – just two boys on a date.

"If you could be whatever you want, go anywhere, choose your own way with no influences whatsoever – what would you do?"

Blaine surprises himself with the question – they never talk about the future, it's one of the few topics both Kurt and Rachel always ignore. But looking at Kurt like this, in the golden glow of the candlelight, makes him want to be able to imagine him five years from now, or ten, all done growing up and settled in his undoubtedly fabulous life. Even if Blaine won't be part of it, he wants this picture in his head.

Kurt licks the spoon clean of the last remnants of tiramisu, his eyes turning distant.

"I'd come back here. To New York." He pauses, thinks a little. "I'd like to work in fashion, anywhere really – just as long as I could create clothes, I'd be happy. Maybe I'd be with a man who... who loved me, if I were lucky. Maybe we'd have a pet, or... I don't know. Just a normal, everyday life of being myself, that's what I would choose."

"I'm sure you will get that one day, Kurt."

Kurt just shakes his head, a sad little smile on his face.

"How about that walk now?"

The mood is a little melancholy when they leave the restaurant, but soon the awe and joy of walking hand in hand through the busy streets of nighttime New York take over. They kiss on every street corner until they're too close to the hotel to risk it anymore, and Blaine will never, ever have enough of this – Kurt's soft lips and his delighted face, and their fingers intertwined like this. By the time they slip into the boys' shared room, they're ten minutes late and trying very hard to look innocent. Not that anyone really cares.

Artie is already asleep on one of the large beds, Mike next to him, reading. Sam is sitting on the cot, eating nachos. Finn and Puck have created elaborate sleeping nests on the floor, using all the duvets and bedspreads. The second bed is standing empty.

"You two are small enough to fit together." Finn shrugs at Kurt's questioning look.

"You don't mind, do you?" Mike looks up from his Kindle. "We figured you'd be fine with it, but if not, I can switch with either of you."

"No, no it's fine." Kurt is making a spectacular job of looking like he doesn't care, then bumps Blaine's shoulder. "I hope you don't snore."

"Dude, Finn snores loud enough for the whole room. You won't be able to hear the hobbit even if he does, too." Puck barely manages to duck the pillow Finn tosses at him.

It's all very boyish and camp-like as they settle down to sleep, and Blaine enjoys it immensely. Not to mention, sleeping close to Kurt is a wonderful bonus he didn't even think of. When the lights go off, a warm hand finds its way into his under the sheets, and Kurt breathes into his ear, merely a shadow of a whisper.

"Thank you for tonight. Thank you for everything."

The next day is filled with rehearsals and group sightseeing; Mr. Schue even treats them all to a slice of true New York pizza. They're supposed to go to bed early that evening and have proper rest before Nationals, but the city is calling to them. It's their last night, and the competition doesn't start until noon anyway, so of course everyone sneaks away to experience as much of New York as possible.

Blaine and the siblings walk the city until late, taking in as much as they can in this small bubble of time they have. Blaine holds Kurt's hand, staring at him openly with adoring eyes whenever he can get away with not looking where he's going. Kurt is so unrestrained when he doesn't have to hide, so beautiful and bold, that at times Blaine completely forgets they're not alone. Until Rachel calls out to them, pointing towards something or commenting on one thing or another, and she laughs when Blaine gets startled out of his reverie, her face full of affection.

And then they are sipping coffee at Starbucks and talking about what they love most in the city, and Blaine is sharing college plans, because maybe, possibly, here. Before long he's making a list of places he wants to see and things he wants to do if he gets here after graduation, and suddenly Kurt is right there with him, contributing, adding more, and somehow it's almost as if it's their list, as if they're planning to meet here again, one day, in college.

Except at some point Kurt looks up at Rachel who's been sitting silently next to him, and his excited face falls. Blaine can't read the meaning of the look they share, but he knows there is one – one that makes Kurt quiet and subdued in a heartbeat, suddenly looking sad and tired.

They go back to their hotel after that, walking in silence, but still Kurt's hand sneaks into Blaine's, and when he lays his head on Blaine's shoulder in the elevator, Blaine wishes he could take all the trouble away from him, just hold him and keep him safe.

It's almost too hard to let go of the boy in his arms in time to avoid being seen by anyone from McKinley.

Kurt wakes Blaine up at an ungodly early hour the next morning, all gorgeous and nice-smelling and impeccably dressed in a fancy suit, whispering about breakfast at Tiffany's, and Blaine needs no more incentive to get up and get ready than the prospect of some more New York gallivanting with Kurt.

Well, Kurt and Rachel, it turns out.

They look fabulous, all three of them, and have fun pretending to be classy New Yorkers even while eating their bagels in front of the Tiffany's building. The moods are lighter again, bright, and when Kurt suggests breaking into the Gershwin theater... well, they can't not, not on a day like this, emboldened by the feeling of last day, last chance.

It's a bad idea. A terrible one; if the guard wasn't so understanding–

True, they haven't been exactly sneaky, no matter how much they thought they were – singing the lines of Defying Gravity to one another under their breath, happy giggles bubbling out of them. And now they're here, and they have the stage to themselves for fifteen amazing minutes, and Blaine is so full of happiness he feels ready to burst.

"Ohhh, I can't believe that!" Rachel is almost vibrating next to him. "I have to choose the right song, it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, oh god, such a tough choice! Blaine, go, you first, I need time!" She flops into the first-row seat, only to spring up immediately and start pacing up and down the aisle, muttering to herself.

Blaine doesn't have to be told twice. Literally bouncing up the steps to the stage, scrolling through the Wicked soundtrack in his head, he's almost set on One Short Day, it would be so appropriate for their short time in New York. But then... oh.

It's perfect.

Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight
I need help believing you're with me tonight

He starts and his eyes immediately settle on Kurt at the side of the stage, where he's inspecting the staircase that's part of the set – and they never leave him as Blaine sings, every word like a confession of something he hasn't even let himself think yet, but can feel growing, deep within him. Kurt looks enchanted, his face soft and stunned in the half-dimmed light, and Blaine knows, he remembers what's coming soon, too soon, and each word resonates within him perfectly.

And just for this moment, as long as you're mine
I've lost all resistance and crossed some borderline
And if it turns out it's over too fast
I'll make every last moment last
As long as you're mine

He hoped Kurt would understand, hoped he'd get it, but when he actually joins in, his voice cutting clear and perfect through the theater, Blaine feels his heart flutter and breath catch in his throat because it feels so right, like Kurt feels it too, like he's singing from the same place deep within.

Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise
But you've got me seeing through different eyes

Their voices blend perfectly, better than Blaine has ever thought they could, when they sing together standing face to face now, mere feet from each other.

Every moment as long as your mine
I'll wake up my body and make up for lost time
Say there's no future for us as a pair
And though I may know, I don't care

Kurt is kissing him before the last echoes of the song die down, and he's so real in Blaine's arms, warm and solid and there, it's hard to believe he may ever not be, no matter what he said.

Rachel's clapping and cheering brings them back to reality, and Kurt lets out a choked sound, almost a sob, as he buries his face in Blaine's neck for a second. But then he pulls away and he's flushed and bright-eyed but composed, dismissing Rachel's call that it's her turn now.

"No, Rach, I have to sing this one first. It's not from Wicked, but–" he shrugs and looks away, his head held high and jaw set. "Blaine, could you please record it on your phone and then send it to my email? I'll want to show it to someone."

Kurt glances at Rachel then and she frowns, suddenly focused, and it's another one of those moments where Blaine can't really read what goes between them, this secret path of understanding. But he gets off the stage and takes out his iPhone, ready to record Kurt's performance from the central aisle. And oh, is it a performance worth recording. Kurt doesn't look at either of them as he sings, focused on the empty audience, as if imagining someone there, someone who makes his face clench into hard defiance as he sings.

Coming home used to feel so good
I'm a stranger now in my neighborhood

Kurt's not only singing – he's dancing as well, flexible and flamboyant, so out there, it almost looks like a challenge. Against whom, Blaine can only guess, so he just stands there with his phone and tries to keep his hand steady as his jaw drops at what Kurt can do with his body and his voice – oh god that voice – when he chooses to.

It's breathtaking, but somehow Blaine doesn't think Rachel's tear-filled eyes and the way she covers her mouth with both hands can be explained with the stunning quality of Kurt's song.

I can't go back there anymore
'Cause I am not the boy next door

Kurt finishes on an impossibly high note, keeping it clear and strong, his whole body vibrating with sound – or maybe something else. Blaine stops the recording and claps so hard his hands hurt. He's not the only one. The guard is standing in the back of the audience, visibly impressed.

Rachel moves then, and Blaine can clearly see the tear tracks on her face as she runs onto the stage and pulls Kurt into a tight hug. They seem to whisper to each other, and Kurt is nodding, and then Rachel steps away but keeps Kurt's hand in hers and her eyes on him as she starts, voice strong even though she's still crying.

I'm limited...

The siblings are entirely focused on each other now, their gaze never wavering once. Kurt comes in with Glinda's part.

I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason

Blaine thinks, for a heartbeat, that Kurt may be singing about him – but no. He and Rachel are in their own little world, the way they get sometimes, but so much stronger right now, like nothing exists but the two of them. Blaine knows it means something, knows they are telling each other things he will never understand because he's an outsider and no matter how close they let him get sometimes, this is their inner sanctum, that connection he will never get. He's fine with it, mostly. He's perfectly fine with watching and taking in the beauty of this song when they perform it, stunning, almost ethereal, with their voices like molten gold. Still, he feels like something of grave, desperate importance is happening before his very eyes – and he wishes he could understand.

Kurt and Rachel leave the stage still holding hands, both teary-eyed, but it only takes Blaine's enthusiastic cheering to make them shake out of the suddenly somber mood. The guard from before is standing next to him, grinning widely.

"Man, I've heard a lot working here, but you three are something else. I don't know what your dreams are, kids, but don't you give up on them. You're good. Really good, all of you. Hold on to that, and I'll see you here in a few years." He nods and retreats into the darkness again, and the three of them laugh and hug and gather their things to leave with one last look at the magnificent stage, overwhelmed and stunned, and that just happened, and okay, they are ready to face the competition – to face anything now.

--------------

CHAPTER ART by HACHI (click!)

For Good

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 8

2013-02-25T23:30:14Z

The first time Kurt and Rachel sing it in Glee – during the original songs week, when everyone's supposed to try and write their own song – there's no applause when they finish. The song is amazing, their performance of it breathtaking, but that's not what holds everyone attention, keeps them speechless and staring in complete silence. Blaine bites his lip, keeps his face carefully blank. He's as shocked as everyone else, though for slightly different reasons.

Santana is the first to recover.

"Wanky!" Even she sounds mildly creeped-out, though.

"Wait." Puck is frowning, halfway between spooked and fascinated. "So you two are, like, fucking?"

"What? No!" Rachel's eyes are wide and shocked. "Why would you think that?"

Mr. Schue seems to have regained his voice at last. "Well as good as your song is, Rachel, Kurt – it does seem to suggest some level of um... let's say, inappropriate –"

"Oh my god no, it's not a romantic duet! And certainly not sung to each other, can't you see?" Kurt looks around as if they'd all lost their minds. True – they never even looked at each other throughout the performance, now that Blaine thinks about it. But the lyrics seemed clear enough. "It's just a song. We sang it together because we wrote it together, about life. And... stuff. It's not even personal!"

Like hell it isn't. It may not be romantic, but it is personal. Blaine knows that much.

The weird looks mostly stop by the next morning and soon the whole incident is forgotten – that is, until Artie rolls into the choir room two days before Regionals, late and agitated.

"Mr. Schue, we need to change our setlist immediately. I just got secret intel from our Warblers spy: they're doing Michael Jackson. We'll never win with that, not with the songs we have."

A tumultuous hour later, the conclusion is that they only have one secret weapon – adding an original song to their setlist. Kurt and Rachel's song, because none of the others were even half as good, everyone agrees. And even if Mercedes looks positively sick at the decision that the siblings will sing it themselves, there's no time for anyone else to learn and practice it to perfection.

And to be honest – no one else would match Kurt and Rachel's chemistry as they sing it, together yet somehow separate, looking almost haunted, something dark and secret in their faraway eyes.

It's the last song in their setlist and from his place in the background, Blaine can see the way it descends on the audience like a thick fog of pure emotion, leaving no one unmoved. Kurt and Rachel weave their magic, captivating the hearts and minds of everyone in the room, and Blaine can feel every word, and it hurts because they hurt, more than they admit, more than he'll ever know. And he may not understand; they may never tell him the extent of it, but the few minutes on that stage leave him aching, on the verge of tears, utterly helpless. He needs to know how to help, to save them. He needs to do something.

He can't do anything, not even hug them in public.

Waiting for the verdict is nerve-wracking. They were excellent, their absolute best in all three songs, but going with the duet was a gambit that can either make or break them. Kurt and Rachel don't look alike, no one can tell just by looking at them that they're related. But there are lists of members available and if the judges bother to inquire about these two beautiful kids with angel voices, they are screwed.

Not that it should matter, but competitions have been lost for less than incestuous-sounding songs.

By the time all three clubs are called back on stage to hear the verdict, Mr. Schue looks like he's aged five years, Tina has a nervous stomachache and Puck has taken to punching the padded door of the greenroom to release the excess energy. The lights seem harsh and blinding as the woman bearing the sealed envelope makes her way onto the stage. In the back row, Kurt takes Blaine's hand.

They win.

They win and they're going to Nationals in New York in May.

In the general chaos of celebration and congratulations, it's easy to ignore the concern about Kurt and Rachel's wellbeing that still lingers like an aftertaste of their song. Blaine swallows it down, wishes it away for now, but he knows it will be back.

Something is wrong.

He isn't sure if the signs have become more pronounced after Regionals, or if he's just better at noticing them now, but as the April days become warmer and brighter, Blaine feels like he's watching shadows gathering around the siblings. It's subtle at first – just hints of melancholy in their faces sometimes; Kurt's eyes red-rimmed one morning; Rachel's mysterious comment about everything passing. It's easy not to think about it too much, to believe them when they shrug it off, saying it's just a disagreement with their parents, nothing to worry about.

But it doesn't go away. On the contrary, it's getting worse, and by the second half of the month, it's almost a constant state.

It's not that they're permanently sad, or that something really disturbing is going on. But Kurt seems paler and quieter with every passing week even as Rachel becomes more driven, determined for the Nationals performance to be absolutely perfect. She's almost manic with it and it's driving everyone nuts.

They still smile and chat and tease Blaine about his hair gel addiction and his accidentally revealed superheroes obsession. They're always there, the way they have been since they'd become Blaine's friends, and yet sometimes it feels like they're... fading. Slipping away.

Blaine asks, of course he does – just hinting at first, then offering an ear if they ever want to talk about it, finally asking outright what is going on. He gets no answers. They don't want to talk about it, and he can't make them.

But he has a gut feeling, and it's not a good one. It feels like something is brewing, something dark and ominous, and even telling himself he's being ridiculous doesn't help. There are moments, little things that accumulate, and he just can't ignore it.

Like when they're discussing Romeo and Juliet in class. Ms. Harris talks about romanticism of the main characters' deaths, and all Blaine can see is the glint in Rachel's eyes, her captivated face. That afternoon, as they sit in the choir room, she asks "Do you ever fantasize about your own funeral?" like it's the most normal, random conversation topic in the world. Because apparently, she does.

And so does Kurt.

Blaine's anxious concern is slowly turning into fear.

He should tell someone – but whom? And what would he say? My best friends are a bit melancholy lately and their sense of humor has gotten slightly morbid? He could probably try Miss Pillsbury, or maybe even his own parents, but he keeps putting it off, day after day. He's sure Kurt and Rachel would not appreciate involving other people in their lives, private as they are, and what if he is overreacting?

And then, one rainy day in the first week of May, Rachel breaks down in tears when Blaine asks about their plans for junior prom.

They're not allowed to attend and she looks heartbroken about it, and Blaine has trouble being a sympathetic, supporting friend and saying all the right things because he's dizzy with relief. Most of the fear he's been carrying around for weeks slides off his shoulders with a whoosh he can feel down to his toes.

So that's the problem – that's the reason for their somber mood lately? Family disagreement, they've been saying – and that's just it. Their parents banning them from going to prom, which Rachel has been excited about forever. And here Blaine was so certain there was something horrible going on, something dark and threatening. God, he feels so stupid now, and so grateful he didn't share his concerns with anyone after all.

And when he finds Kurt alone in the far corner of the library a few days later, with his shoulders slumped and eyes like liquefied clouds, and begs a confession out of him – about their father's ongoing mission to change him, and how it's been more difficult for him lately – the rest of the anxiety leaves Blaine, giving way to determination.

He may not be able to really help with their problems, but now that he knows what's going on, he will stop obsessing and focus on being a good, supportive friend, be there for them when they need him, in any way they let him.

---

"Rachel! Kurt! Come down to the kitchen please, we want to talk to you."

It's always nerve-wracking when they get a summons like this because it's hard to tell if it's going to be good or bad news this time. And no matter how careful they are, there's always the risk that it's about Blaine – that somehow, their parents have learned about him. And that would be the end of everything.

But there are smiles greeting them this time and they both breathe a little easier as Kurt's mom speaks.

"We've decided to let you go to prom after all. You two have been good since we moved in here and considering it's the last year before your lives change significantly, I think you deserve that bit of fun. We only insist that you go together, of course, behave decently during the dance and come home immediately after, no post-prom parties."

Kurt catches himself staring incredulously.

"But it's –"

"Tomorrow, yes." His mom smiles. "I'm sure you'll manage to get everything ready. You can have the sewing machine back for this, Kurt. Unless you don't want to go? We're not going to force you, of course."

Rachel's squeal is loud and piercing, and a second later she's strangling Kurt with the tightness of her enthusiastic embrace. "Of course we want to go! Oh god, what do I wear? I need to go wash and curl my hair. And put on a face mask. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

With a swirl of her skirt, she's gone, her feet thundering up the stairs. Kurt follows her, his own thanks much more subdued, though not less honest, ideas for outfits already swarming his head. Still, he can't quite share Rachel's level of excitement. No matter how good it is that they're allowed to go, he won't be able to do what he really wants anyway.

Rachel skips out of their bathroom ten minutes later. She's in her panties and a bra, bright green towel on her head and a mud-brown mask on her face, but it's nothing Kurt hasn't seen before. More alarming is the manic glint in her eyes and what comes out of her mouth.

"I need to call Jacob Ben Israel."

"What for?" Kurt shudders a little as she starts digging through her socks drawer for their secret pre-paid cell phone they only use for emergencies.

"We're running for prom king and queen. If it's the last prom of my life, I'm not passing up the opportunity to try and get that crown. Even if I have to seduce Jacob into having our names added to those ballot cards somehow."

With a deep sigh and a shake of his head, Kurt goes to dig in her closet, looking for something that has a potential to become prom-queen-worthy overnight.

---

"Hi gorgeous! Is there any table we can join?"

Blaine didn't see them come in. He just turns – and there they are; Kurt in a perfectly fitted simple tux, Rachel in a peach-colored dress with her shoulders bare, her hand tucked into the crook of Kurt's elbow and her smile blinding. Blaine's breath stutters in his chest.

"You're here."

There's not much time to talk – the Glee club is providing live music for the first part of the evening and Blaine needs to take over the microphone right about now. By the time he's on the stage, he's still not over their miraculous appearance, but at least he's filled in on the details and the prom night suddenly looks like a lot more fun than he's expected.

The next two hours are a blur of performing and dancing, with a short break for the prom court voting (Kurt's and Rachel's names are at the bottom of the ballot cards and Blaine shakes his head, amused; she gets what she wants when she's determined enough, doesn't she?). The three of them are all occupied separately – Blaine manages to steal Rachel away for one dance, but then she's back to making her rounds; it seems half the guys in school want to dance with the unattainable LA girl tonight. Kurt is not getting much rest, either, as far as Blaine can see. It looks like Sugar wasn't exaggerating when she said a ton of girls were crazy about him.

Finally, Blaine's last performance is done and he's just considering going back to the table to have some punch and a breather, hoping Kurt could be persuaded to join him, when Rachel falls right into his arms, her smile too wide to be sincere.

"Dance with me. I need a break from Jacob, he's getting creepy."

"I thought you promised him half of your dance card in exchange for a certain... service?" Blaine smirks a little.

"Well yes, Blaine, thank you for reminding me. But I think I've underestimated his – oh shit."

It sounds so peculiar coming from her, always so feminine and well-mannered, that for a second Blaine just gapes at her. Then he follows her gaze, only to see Kurt disappearing through the gym door.

"What happened?"

Rachel has already stopped dancing, her expression worried. "He's upset. His last prom and he can't even dance with you. I should have thought about it, honestly, where's my head tonight –"

"His last–?"

Rachel just huffs, impatient. "Blaine, just – Last at this school, okay? Can you go talk to him? It's not me he needs right now."

"Of course." He's already walking towards the exit, fast, trying not to break into a run, Rachel's words ringing in his ears. Last prom – last – last at this school.

He finds Kurt easily in an empty side hallway, pacing by the wall of lockers, and Blaine has never seen him so distraught. Kurt's voice is breaking when he speaks.

"It's not fair. Why can't I dance with you at my prom when even Rachel can? Why can I never walk hand in hand with a person I like? Why is it so damn hard?" There are tears in Kurt's eyes, his face screwed in distress, and Blaine would do anything to make it better.

"Kurt... I'd dance with you in a heartbeat. We can go back in there, holding hands, and dance right now, and I'll be the happiest guy in that room."

Kurt shakes his head, the defeated look on his face heartbreaking. "I can't, Blaine. You know I can't. Not even once, no matter how much I want it." He closes his eyes and rubs at them, a tired gesture. When he speaks again, the anger is gone; his voice is bitter now, sad. "I'm sorry. I'll be fine, I'm used to it, not having what I want. It's just... it stings, sometimes. You can go to Rachel, I'll be back in a moment. Don't worry about me."

Blaine shakes his head. There's no way he's leaving Kurt's side.

"I don't want to go to Rachel. I want to spend time with you. How about we go back to the table and just sit and talk for a bit? They're counting votes now, we have a moment before the prom king and queen are announced. How about that? There's nothing suspicious about sitting at the table with a friend."

Kurt's smile is weak, barely there, but he nods. "Okay."

By the time they are seated and Blaine has brought them both punch – still unspiked, to Puck's annoyance – Kurt looks calm again. They're alone at the table and it's as good a time as any – and Blaine just needs to know.

"Can I ask you something?" He waits for Kurt's nod before continuing. "Rachel said it's your last year at this school. Is it... is it true?"

The way Kurt bites his lip and avoids Blaine's eyes is answer enough, and he braces himself for the words that come next.

"I... yes. It's very, very unlikely that we'll be back at McKinley for our senior year."

"Are you moving away again? Back to LA?"

Kurt looks at him with eyes that look almost pleading, his mouth working over words that don't come for a few seconds, but then he blinks and shakes his head, and the moment is gone. "Probably. Our parents expect to be summoned back in the summer, and whatever happens, we won't be here. I'm sorry, Blaine."

"You could have told me." It comes out too sharp, like an accusation, but he can't help it. A feeling very much like betrayal is messing with his throat, choking him.

Kurt just nods, solemn.

"I could. But at first I didn't think it mattered, and later I just... I didn't want this to hang over you the way it does over us, Blaine. I'm sorry. I didn't want to ruin these last weeks we have. I wanted you to have this time with us, unspoiled. And besides... would it change anything? Would you do anything differently?"

I would guard my heart better if I knew, he thinks. But he doesn't say it, just whispers, "No. It wouldn't change a thing."

But of course it changes everything. He can't quite wrap his mind around it yet, but somewhere in his future there's probably a big ugly crying fit, most likely preceded by running until he's numb because god, the mere thought of losing them – losing Kurt – hurts too much to even breathe around.

Blaine may not have imagined they'd spend the rest of their lives together – he's not that naive, but he did hope to have them in his life for much longer. The whole next year at least, for sure; with Glee and the competition trips, with their early mornings and occasional secret meetings and the senior prom. He hoped that maybe with time, their parents would get more lenient – both Kurt and Rachel have perfect grades, that should help – maybe even, he dared to fantasize sometimes, he and Kurt would be able to date openly one day?

And now, like a candle blown by a sudden gust of wind, all that is gone.

Up on the stage, Kurt looks as stunned as Blaine feels, and it takes Principal Figgins repeating his name and beckoning him with a frown before he moves. Kurt's eyes are still wide as the crown is placed on his head and the scepter pushed into his hand, but he bows gracefully when the principal beams.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your McKinley junior prom king, Kurt Hummelberry."

There is a scattered applause, most people looking confused that Kurt won over the wildly popular Finn Hudson, but a gaggle of girls up front is going crazy. Blaine can see Sugar there, bouncing wildly with an expression that places somewhere between delighted and smug.

Rachel's wide smile fades when Quinn's victory is announced, but she keeps a brave face, only disappearing quietly for a moment when Kurt leads the new prom queen in the first dance of the new McKinley court.

They are lovely together, both beautiful and somehow regal, and there's no way Finn would ever manage to look so much like he owns this title and this crown. Kurt's eyes slide over the crowd as they sway gracefully, and he smiles sadly when he meets Blaine's gaze, and that's the moment when Blaine knows for sure: he will get Kurt his dance, no matter what.

All it takes is one Puckerman and two dancing girls.

Puck has managed to spike the punch at last, and Blaine knows he must have brought his own beverages beside that because he's drunk, loud and easy to provoke, which is exactly what Blaine needs.

The prom is winding down to the end, the music mostly slow and mellow now and all around there are couples dancing, close and intimate. There's a lot of kissing, even some mild groping here and there. No one is really looking around anymore, comparing dresses or searching for friends to chat, which is a perfect moment for those who want to dance together without raising interest.

Like Santana and Brittany.

They aren't flashy with their relationship, not many people outside of the Glee club know that they are more than friends, and Blaine is silently thankful for them dancing like this now because it makes starting the topic of gay couples so much more natural than any of the scenarios he's thought of.

"Hell no man, I mean, two chicks – sure, it's like, super hot, but two dudes? That's just gay." Puck is loud and obnoxious, enough to make people at the nearby tables look up and strain their ears to hear, and that's exactly what Blaine needs. He keeps his voice louder than usual, too, ignoring Kurt's bewildered expression by his side.

"Oh, I don't know. I heard that only men who are completely comfortable with their sexuality, you know, real men, have no problem with things like that. I mean, if you're sure you are straight, why would you be afraid to be seen as gay?"

"Oh yeah? So you do it, smartass. Prove you're a real man." There's this smirk on Puck's face, the cocky one he gets when he's being an ass.

Perfect.

"What, you want me to dance with you, Noah?" Blaine does his best to make his laughter seem nervous, uncomfortable. "I don't know, you're not exactly my type."

"Oh no, Anderson, I'm not into your crazy, but you go ahead, I'd like to see you ask a guy to dance. Unless you're going to chicken out now?" Puck is looking around triumphantly, satisfied with the attention he's getting. There's only two, maybe three dozen people around them, but it's enough to confirm it being a dare, and that's exactly what Blaine needs. Another slow song is just starting.

With the last little spectacle of hesitation, Blaine stands up. "Fine. I'm not aiming lower than royalty though." He can feel eyes on him as he turns towards Kurt. "Your majesty, may I have this dance?"

Kurt can easily say no if he decides it's still too risky, and Blaine will ask someone else then – maybe Mike, or Sam, and maybe he'll get rejected, and it will be no more than a silly joke. But Kurt doesn't say no, just like Blaine hoped he wouldn't. He gets it already, what Blaine just did – of course he does, and he takes Blaine's extended hand and stands up with a regal smile.

"Yes. Yes you may."

The dance is a little awkward at first, Kurt all tense and glancing around at the group of people watching them. There's Rachel at the front, smiling and cheering, and Sam, giving Blaine a thumbs up, and Puck is so loud, yelling "Fine, okay, you've got balls, Anderson," that even people who have no idea what's going on catch up to the dare pretty quick. Mike snaps them a picture with his phone and Blaine grins and spins Kurt around, and they just keep dancing. Soon people around them lose interest in Puckerman's latest crazy and go to their own partners or back to the tables, and Blaine can focus all of his attention on Kurt.

He's right there, in Blaine's arms, My Heart Will Go On seeping slowly out of the stereo system, and they can't lose themselves completely in dancing, can't melt together like most couples do, but it's still so much more than they'd ever had in public, it's breathtaking. Kurt is warm against him, his smell makes Blaine's blood simmer like it always does, every little touch like a gift. And Kurt's eyes are soft and smiling, and happy, so happy, and Blaine did that. He managed to make Kurt's dream come true.

He may not have much time left with them – and the thought aches somewhere deep and desperate – but he's going to make each and every moment count.

The music ends too soon and they step away from each other, put their masks back on and go back to the table. But before they do, Kurt catches Blaine's eyes and whispers Thank you with a smile so full of awe and adoration that Blaine's heart stutters a little.

---

Kurt doesn't dance with anyone else until the end of the prom, unwilling to feel another's embrace, see another's face so close and clear. It would feel like tainting this precious moment and he can't do that; he needs to save every last bit of it in his memory tonight, relive every second over and over until it's an indelible part of him.

The walk home, his evening routine, getting to bed – it's all a daze, and he tells Rachel he doesn't want to cuddle or talk tonight. He just wants to be alone with his thoughts and memories. Thankfully, she understands.

The night is filled with images of Blaine.

In the morning, however, there's no more peace and understanding as they go down for breakfast. Their father's brow is furrowed, his mouth set into a thin line. Kurt's mom looks pale and concerned at the other side of the table.

They must have heard.

Oh, Kurt is so not ready for this conversation, not yet, not when he just woke up with a big smile and his brain is still pleasantly fuzzy, and he hasn't even had his coffee yet. But they don't give him a chance to prepare.

"Kurt, care to explain why you danced with a boy last night? Is there something you want to tell us?"

Rachel's bright laugh is a shock to Kurt's vibrating nerves. He's frozen, paralyzed, but she's not, just dancing happily around the kitchen, making oatmeal.

"Don't be silly, Daddy. He was actually doing the guy bonding thing you're always so onto him about. You know, joking around, playing pranks and leaving girls to their own devices?" She stops behind Kurt's back, giving him a hug and a quick kiss on the lips before she twirls away. "It was a dare Puckerman played, Kurt couldn't have refused without looking like a weakling. It was pretty stupid, I admit, but oh well, boys."

She's at the table now, rolling her eyes dramatically, and Kurt has never been so thankful for her acting skills.

Forcing himself to move, he smiles and shakes his head. "It was pretty awkward, too. But you said it yourself, I need to try to blend in with the men more. So I'm trying. Although I'm not so sure I want to blend in with Puckerman." He makes a passable imitation of a shudder, relieved to see their father's face soften.

His mom nods over her cup of coffee, the frown gone. "Okay then. We'd rather not hear more news like that though, Kurt. It had us worried here, for a moment."

Kurt forces out a chuckle. "Oh, you won't, I promise. Don't worry."

---

CHAPTER ART by HACHI (click!)

Regionals

The morning after

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 7

2013-02-24T23:54:07Z

A/N: Because I've been an ass and somehow in all this chaos and excitement of preparing this story for posting I forgot to officially thank our amazing beta- and test-readers (I've fixed the story notes now but man, I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry!):

nachochang, tchrgleek, sleepdeprivedmind, honeysuckle-pink - THANK YOU so, so much for your help, you wonderful, generous people! <3 (And please forgive me for being a chaotic mess...)

---------------------------------------------

"Kurt, are you alright?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" It's an automatic response, Blaine can tell; it comes out snappy and Kurt looks up at him apologetically, but doesn't say anything more.

"I don't know – you seem preoccupied these last few days. You disappear during lunch breaks, you snap at people who care about you–"
Kurt sighs and puts away his sandwich. "– and the muffins were burned this morning, I know. This last part is actually Rachel's fault, she's learning to bake."

To Blaine's left, Rachel huffs irritably. Kurt pats her hand and turns back to Blaine. Even his smile seems half-hearted.

"It's nothing, just some trouble at home. I'll be fine."

"Any way I can help?"

"No. But thank you."

This time the smile is real, if only a flash.

---

"Son, you're turning seventeen in three months, it's time you learned how to be a man."

It's the last week of February. They're alone in the kitchen, just the two of them, and it's one of those moments when Kurt is painfully aware that this man is not really his dad, no matter how many years they've played family.

"Are you saying I'm not a man now?" It comes out sharp, defensive, and their father holds up his hands, a placating gesture.

"Hey, don't you get all spiky on me. Right now, you're a boy. A good boy, with a lot of potential, but a boy nonetheless. You're all about dreams and passions and music. And real life isn't like that. It's time to learn that a man has to be practical and rational, and often has to sacrifice his own desires for the good of his family."

It's hitting awfully close to home and Kurt forces his face into a neutral expression even as his insides twist unpleasantly. Their father doesn't know. He can't know. The reaction would be much less civilized if he did. Still –

"And how do you suggest I learn that?"

"I'll teach you. We'll start with practical things – house maintenance, household and car repairs, keeping a budget, things like that. And it's time to give up the girly stuff, son."

"Girly stuff?"

"All the cooking, baking, sewing. You're going to leave it to Rachel and your mother from now on."

"But –" Kurt's eyes widen.

"No, Kurt. That's my final word. These are not your responsibilities and you're too old now to keep dabbling in stuff that doesn't matter. You'll have plenty of other things to do."

And he does. This whole week, Kurt's every free minute is filled with "manly stuff": assisting their father in various tasks around the house and in the garage, discussions about proper jobs for a man ("It's not about dreams, son, it's about stability and providing for your family. The pay, the benefits, the hours – that's what counts."), even male bonding. They go to see a game of college basketball together – something Kurt is profoundly bored with. Then, despite Kurt's protests, their father takes him along to his weekly poker night at a local pub ("Just remember, never actually play for money. It's supposed to be fun, and not ruin you.") and even goes as far as offering to buy him a small beer, which Kurt refuses icily.

It's a nightmare, this whole week – being so bluntly reminded of their parents' expectations of him, of the person they want to see in their son. He's known all along, of course, but it could always be pushed aside in favor of finding the little joys in everyday life. It has always been something to think about later.

Well, the later is now.

He drags his feet through each day, gritting his teeth as he watches Rachel butcher most of her cooking attempts and he's not allowed to help or, better yet, take over, because she's hopeless in the kitchen.

He steals away every free moment at school to hide in the home ec classroom and work on the clothes he needs to finish sewing for an order. He can't do it at home now and the buyers are waiting, so there's no choice, really, but it cuts severely into his time with Blaine, and that sucks.

He bites his tongue most of the time he's with their father, trying not to make things worse by spitting out that he doesn't care about sports or poker or guy time, and if anything major needs repairing he'd rather pay an expert to do it, and anyway, what does it matter, he's never going to have a family of his own.

All in all, the week is bleak and dreary. But the worst comes on Sunday.

He doesn't think much of it when their father wakes him up before dawn and tells him to prepare for a day out in the woods. Hiking trip then, another attempt at bonding. Fine, he can survive that. And then tomorrow... Tomorrow their parents are off to LA again, and it will be baking, and sewing, and time with Blaine. The prospect makes him almost cheerful.

Except when they get out of the car two hours later, there's a small gathering of men already there, and they're all holding shotguns.

"Father? What's going on?" Kurt doesn't even care how squeaky his voice sounds; he doesn't like what he sees. Not one bit.

"Well we're going hunting, of course! You need to learn how to shoot and it's the last day of rabbit season, a perfect opportunity to teach you the basics. Come on, I have a sweet gun for you."

That night, Kurt hides in Rachel's arms, the only safe place that's always, always there for him, and cries – big, hitching sobs muffled against her skin. The terror of this day is still making his whole body shake and he feels like he's never going to be able to forget the dead eyes and the soft fur covered in blood.

"I told him, Rach, I told him I couldn't, and I wouldn't, and he couldn't force me even though he was angry. But I still had no choice but to go with them, and watch them shoot the poor little rabbits, oh god, they looked so scared, and then so dead, Rachel! And they just dumped all of them in this big crate in the end, like it was nothing, like they hadn't been living creatures just hours ago. God, I'll never eat meat again, ever. And they cheered and had the best fucking time and I had nothing more in my stomach to throw up. And they kept teasing me and–"

Soft lips shush him in a way words and soothing murmurs couldn't, and it's so familiar and so simple in its comfort that Kurt relaxes the tiniest bit for the first time since this morning. Rachel kisses him sweetly for a moment longer, her hands smoothing up and down his back, before pulling him down to lay side by side on her bed, holding him tight and whispering in his ear.

"It's over now, and I bet he'll never take you hunting again. It's over. In a few hours they'll be going to the airport, and we'll have the house to ourselves. You'll bake something complicated and we'll sing all morning, and you will take out your sewing machine. And in the afternoon, we'll invite Blaine over, okay? That will help, right? Blaine's lips on you, his hands – he's got such sensual hands, all warm and gentle –"

She's still holding him so close his face is hidden in her shoulder, but her hand has slid to the waistband of Kurt's pajama pants now and for a moment he wonders if he wants to stop her. They don't really do this; they only have a couple of times, experimenting. But the touch feels nice if he doesn't think about it too much, and he's clinging to anything that isn't memories of the hunt.

Rachel's fingers are gentle but sure as she strokes him through the fabric, making his cock stir in spite of everything.

"Let me help you sleep, honey. Let me help you forget. Imagine it's not my hand. I know his is larger, but you have a great imagination, don't you? He'll be here tomorrow, kissing you like he's starved for you, running his hands all over you –"

Kurt feels himself harden quickly, a quiet moan escaping him before he whispers "Yes, please" and a warm hand pushes his pants down a little, just enough to expose his cock. His imagination is hard at work already, remembering the taste of Blaine's lips, the thrilling hardness of his body against Kurt's, the firm grip of his hand. Rachel is quiet now, just stroking him, inexpert but steady, letting him immerse in the fantasy that is so much better for the fact that it's going to come true soon. It doesn't take long at all to get completely lost in it, forgetting about the terrible day and the bad week he's had. When he falls over the edge, it's to the memory of Blaine moaning his name as he came all over his hand, undone and breathtaking.

It's so easy to fall asleep afterwards, to just give in to the pull of the unconscious, barely aware he's being cleaned up and tucked in the safe cocoon of blankets. The soft kiss to his forehead is the last thing that registers before he drifts off, and he tries to whisper "Thank you", but words get lost between his fuzzy brain and uncooperative lips.

In his dream, Rachel and he are rabbits, small and terrified, being chased and shot at. People keep coming at them from all directions – kind, smiling faces over deadly shotguns – until there's nowhere to go, no place to hide.

He wakes up screaming.

---

"I want tonight to be just for Kurt. He's had a terrible week and he's trying not to show how much it affects him, but I can see he's crumbling. I want us to take care of him, let him unwind. Can you do that?"

It's the first thing out of Rachel's mouth as she opens the back door for Blaine that Monday evening, a frantic whisper after a fleeting kiss on the cheek, and he finds himself nodding immediately, something clenching in his chest at the thought of Kurt suffering for any reason.

"Of course."

He follows her up to the attic and she's right, the tension in Kurt's frame is obvious, as are the dark circles under his eyes and the unnatural paleness of his fair skin. He looks frail, brittle, and Blaine wonders how he'd managed not to notice it at school today – nothing besides a bit of tiredness, perhaps. Then again, Kurt is a master of control when it comes to his face, his posture. He never lets weakness show unless he feels he can lower his defenses and relax, safe to be himself. It gives Blaine a bit of a heady rush, to know that Kurt feels that safe around him now.

Kurt smiles when they enter, but something very much like despair is shadowing his eyes where the smile can't quite reach today, and Blaine's heart clenches because it's new and it's scary, and he knows he's not going to be allowed close enough to learn what happened, to try and help.

But there is one way in which he can help, and it has nothing to do with knowledge or words.

He lets his hands and his lips take over, pouring his heart into every kiss and every touch as they work in perfect tandem with Rachel – tender, gentle, but firm, leaving no room for Kurt to take initiative. He doesn't try though, he just surrenders to their caresses, enclosed tightly between their bodies, and it takes a long while before he even finds his voice, first in quiet sighs that slowly turn into gasps and little moans before every last wall seems to fall and then he's sprawled on the bed, naked and unrestrained in his reactions.

Rachel's attention stays firmly focused above Kurt's waist when Blaine finally slides down the bed to do something he's been thinking about so much in the last weeks that it turned into an obsession. Kurt is hard and gorgeous, silky-smooth and heavy on Blaine's tongue, and it's fumbling and imperfect, and has nothing to do with any technique whatsoever, but it doesn't matter. It's them, and it's want and enthusiasm and another first. It ends too soon, but then again, it would probably feel too soon if it lasted hours because Blaine wants to explore every millimeter of skin, try every combination of licking and kissing and sucking, discover every little mewl and gasp and pleading sound that Kurt can make. He's bold enough to swallow but there's too much and he ends up with come trickling down his chin that he surreptitiously wipes on the sheets because he's not quite ready to lick it off yet.

Kurt is trembling coming down, loose and pliant, and Rachel pulls the warm duvet over the three of them as they lie down, Kurt between them, safe in their embrace. Blaine is almost painfully hard in his pants, but it doesn't matter right now. What matters is that Kurt's eyes are the lovely shade of sea water again, not the gray color of rainclouds; that the tension has left his body and his face is so calm now, placid.

It helped – Blaine managed to help, not alone, but he did, and he feels ridiculously proud.

For a long while they just snuggle like this, languid kisses and gentle strokes that are all comfort and not sex, until Kurt turns to kiss Rachel's cheek and she sits up, one strap of her black top sliding off her shoulder.

"I'll leave you two now, if you don't mind."

And how could Blaine mind when Kurt is already leaning in and tugging at his clothes with impatient fingers, kissing every bit of skin with lips so hot they burn, and yes, that's the other thing Blaine couldn't stop imagining lately.

But imagination turns out to be nothing compared to reality of Kurt's mouth on him and Blaine catches himself hoping Rachel is using her headphones again because there's no way he can be quiet through this and it seems so private all of a sudden, something just between him and Kurt, and wow, that's new.

It's only when he's walking home late that night, after his knees have stopped feeling like a newborn foal's, after he's spent forever naked in the cocoon of the duvet with Kurt, cuddling and then touching and pressing against each other, and then trying to catch their breath all over again – it's only then that Blaine realizes that he hadn't even kissed Rachel once today.

And that he doesn't mind it in the slightest.

He's not the only one who noticed.

"We have to talk." It's three days later, the lunch break has just started, and Blaine is faced with a very solemn-looking Rachel. Kurt is nowhere to be seen, he must have disappeared to do his sewing again. No help there, then. "I've been waiting for an opportunity to get you alone."

"Oh?" It almost sounds like he's scared but, well, determined Rachel is not something to be taken lightly. Especially when Blaine has a feeling he knows what she wants to talk about.

She doesn't say a word as she leads him into a side corridor – not until they are leaning against the windowsill at the end of it, with no one around.

"You don't need me anymore, do you?"

Blaine startles at the bluntness of the question; it's so unlike her. It's Kurt who's the straightforward one – Rachel is a tease, always dancing playfully around a topic before she gets to it. Not today, it seems. Blaine feels his heart speed up, his throat tighten. His voice sounds all wrong when he speaks.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Kurt, you don't need me as a buffer anymore. At least, I know for a fact he doesn't – how about you?"

His expression must be particularly dumb because Rachel rolls her eyes with an exasperated smile.

"Okay, let's be honest here, Blaine. You're hot. You're gorgeous. So don't take it personally, but. As fun as these last months have been, I've mostly been in the... intimate stuff so deep because Kurt asked me to. He's the one who wanted you from the moment he first saw you. I've been there to sort of... test the waters. Make sure things wouldn't get awkward if you weren't into guys. And now that we know you are–"

"I don't know if I'm into guys. I'm into Kurt." Blaine has no idea why that's the part he feels the need to focus on; the words just come out without his conscious decision. Rachel smiles.

"Which is all that counts here. Anyway, I feel like I'm becoming the third wheel now, you two seem to be doing just fine without me, so maybe it's the right moment to change things up a little? Don't get me wrong, I'd love to still be friends, but maybe I should be just a friend from now on? To give you and Kurt more space? More time for each other? I'm just throwing it in there for you to consider, Blaine, you don't have to make a decision now." She looks a little nervous now, biting her lip before she catches herself and regains control over her face.

A few heartbeats is really all the time for consideration he needs, now that the option has been put in front of him like this, but he gives it a minute more, in case it's just shock that will wear off soon. Maybe it should hurt, he wonders – maybe he should feel a little betrayed, or at least sad. But he doesn't. Instead, he thinks of afternoons at their attic with Kurt alone, of Kurt's smile and his kisses, Kurt's touch and time just for him, and a wave of possessive joy curls unexpectedly around his heart.

"Yeah. I'm okay with it. I mean, you are amazing, Rachel, but Kurt–"

"Kurt holds your heart."

"I– I think he might be, yes."

"Good." She bounces a little on the balls of her feet. "Great. So if that's settled, let's discuss the Regionals duet possibilities."

Kurt knows.

He doesn't say a word about it, but when they meet the next morning, it's clear. It's in the warm looks he gives Blaine over his cup of coffee while they sit in the empty classroom again, in the smile that lingers just a second longer when they're in public. It's in the way he comes to sit with Blaine in the choir room, abandoning Rachel up front, talking with Quinn. It's new; they've been nearly inseparable so far, and Blaine remembers what he thought that night, two weeks ago: they're no longer a unit, at least in relation to him. No longer "the siblings" or "the Hummelberrys".

Now the division is even clearer. Yes, they're both his best friends, but it's Kurt that Blaine is helplessly infatuated with.

He's very fine with it. And so, it seems, are they.

Blaine just wishes it could mean not hiding anymore. After all, they're no longer a highly unconventional triangle that no one would understand. They're a couple; it should make a difference. Because Blaine would be happy to come out. He's not sure if what he feels for Kurt makes him gay, or bi, or what, but he's never been one for labels, and he doesn't really care. He'd come out about dating Kurt – being Kurt's boyfriend – in a heartbeat, if he were allowed; to his parents, his friends, the school in general – hell, the whole world.

But he knows it's not gonna happen.

He's heard enough about their parents by now to know there is no chance of it going well. He still can't wrap his head around it, not entirely, but he knows enough not to question Kurt and Rachel's reasons to play it safe.

But knowing doesn't mean he isn't aching to take Kurt's hand, to stop controlling every word and expression when they interact in public. It doesn't keep him from trying out the word boyfriend when he's alone in his bedroom, late at night. He can't help it. He's never thought the first time he'd fall in... ah, he'd really like someone, would be so damn complicated.

Still, he wouldn't change it for the world.

--------------------------------------

CHAPTER ART by HACHI (click!)

New house rules

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 6

2013-02-23T23:09:11Z

Valentine's Day is approaching fast and it's the first time since his epic crush on his friend Amy in middle school that Blaine is actually excited about it. He's got someone to surprise this year – he's got two people who matter to him and need to know it. And it would be easy and wonderful and so natural – almost all of his friends are excitedly preparing dates and songs and gifts for their boyfriends and girlfriends, it's all they talk about lately – except no one can know.

So much has changed since the West Side Story opening night, and yet, some things never changed at all. Everyone knows Blaine is friends with the Hummelberrys now; some people even guess that he has a little crush, though their suspicions are firmly focused on Rachel.

But people talking and guessing is one thing, and the official picture is another – and the true nature of their relationship has to remain a tightly guarded secret. Whatever Blaine prepares for Valentine's Day, it can be in no way public. What's more, it has to be subtle enough that even if Rachel and Kurt's parents stumble upon it, it won't raise suspicions that anything more than friendship is going on.

And that's what makes it complicated.

Blaine spends a week planning and thinking, discarding idea after idea. He wants his gift to be original and personal, created just for them; something unconventional and thoughtful, but not over the top. And it needs to speak of affection and attraction, but without using the word love.

Of course, it's everywhere now, especially this time of year – a word so overused and thrown about that it's hard to find a way around it. But that's exactly why he wants to avoid it. He knows most of his friends think nothing of showering their girlfriends and boyfriends, no matter how temporary, with hearts and love cards and I love you's. But Blaine has always seen love as something precious, so much more than just a word, and even with everything Rachel and Kurt make him feel, he's not quite there yet. He wants to be absolutely certain, needs to know this is it, before he can tell someone he loves them. And until then, even a silly card with the word love, or lyrics of a song that use it, just doesn't feel right.

When he finds it at last, an idea so perfect it makes him do a little victory dance right in the middle of the kitchen, there's still one problem left. He can pass them the gift in secret, but the song, while innocent, would just make people talk and speculate if he sang it in Glee during their Valentine's Day's assignment, no matter what he would or wouldn't say.

It takes some more scheming and a few hours in his empty house with the piano and a microphone and some pretty paper, but then it's done, and Blaine must admit he is actually proud of himself. The gift, sealed in a thick hand-made envelope, feels just right. Now he just needs to deliver it discreetly.

In all of his preoccupation with the perfect gift, Blaine never stopped to think that Rachel and Kurt might want to get him something, too. It probably says something about his perception of their relationship, how he feels honored to be accepted and wanted by them, and not entirely certain what he did to deserve it. So he freezes for a moment, surprised, when Rachel takes a plain brown box out of her bag and puts it in his open locker as soon as they meet on Valentine's Day morning. She laughs quietly at his bewildered expression.

"Happy Valentine's Day, silly. Don't open it until you're home."

Blaine hurries to hide the box behind the mess of books in the locker, his cheeks warm, and he's pretty sure he's still blushing when he faces them again.

"Thank you. I've got something for you too, just... later. Not in public." His package is nowhere near as discreet as the box – the choice of sparkly red paper for the envelope might have been a bit of overkill.

Kurt nods, grinning, and gestures towards an empty classroom. "Come on, I have a surprise for you."

Kurt seems bouncy today, excited, and as soon as they're seated, he puts a small paper bag in front of Blaine. It looks like any other of his baked goods packages and Blaine raises a curious eyebrow as he takes the bag and opens it – and then the scent hits him, making him gasp.

"Anise cookies." Kurt confirms, suddenly bashful. "I'm not sure if they're actually like those your grandma used to make, but I searched for recipes that fit your description, and modified them some, and... I hope they're okay. I've never tried making anything with anise before, so I'm not sure."

"You remembered." Something catches in Blaine's throat.

"Of course I did. It was something important you shared, how could I not?"

Kurt looks adorable, slightly flustered, and Blaine really, really wants to hug him senseless right now.

His grandma passed away over a year ago, and her anise cookies are a memory as old as Blaine can remember. They were his favorite, so she made them every time Blaine came to visit her in Florida – which wasn't often enough – and the taste was something that always spelled happiness and safety for him, no matter what. Blaine's mom tried to recreate the recipe, but hers were never quite the same. These, however–

"Oh my god, how did you do it?" They look a bit different, but the familiar taste is like a flashback to the old sunny kitchen where Blaine spent long hours, singing loudly with his grandma, helping her with dinner, drinking hot cocoa, or just talking about whatever was on his mind. It's something Blaine lost all hope of experiencing ever again, and maybe he should be embarrassed about the sting of tears in his eyes, but he can't bring himself to care. "They're perfect, Kurt. They're just like I remember."

Kurt's smile is so bright and happy that it seems to fill the whole room. "I think it's the modifications, no actual recipe sounded exactly right, but you gave me enough details to work with. There are crushed anise seeds instead of an extract, and some crushed black pepper, a little lemon – I wrote it all down, I'll give you the recipe so that you can always have them when... when you miss her."

Kurt's eyes are momentarily shadowed with sadness, his voice breaking just slightly at the end, and suddenly Blaine remembers: he knows all too well what it feels like to lose someone you loved.

The need to pull Kurt into a hug is overwhelming, public setting be damned.

"So are you planning to sing anything in Glee today?" Rachel's cheerful voice breaks the mood and Blaine is half-glad because he was about four seconds from doing or saying something he really shouldn't, not here – and probably not yet.

"No. I would, but –" he shrugs.

"Yeah. I know." Rachel sighs dramatically. "I think it's the first time I don't have anything ready for an assignment, but no matter how I tried, I couldn't find a song that wouldn't reveal too much. Oh well. I'll let others shine for a change."

They all laugh and the atmosphere is light again, but something in Blaine's heart has shifted, a tiny, gentle change that he doesn't understand yet, but he suspects may mean a lot.

Blaine hasn't had so much fun on Valentine's Day in years. Even with the secrecy, the siblings are all silly and flirty today. Rachel turns the seductress mode on and off smoothly, just enough to tease; Kurt gives him bedroom eyes whenever he can get away with it, making Blaine's knees go weak and his mouth dry. How does he do that, and within a single hour – going from melting Blaine completely with emotions to making him hard and desperate with one look?

Both Rachel and Blaine get some secret Valentine cards and heart candy (plus, in Blaine's case, one very clear invitation of not entirely platonic variety that he politely declines), but it's nothing to Kurt's fare. He's being positively showered with little gifts all day, heart-bearing messages and, in one case, a huge gift basket with sweets and a big pink plushy kitten (that's Sugar for you; no one can say she doesn't go all the way with her affections). Most of those come from blushing, starry-eyed freshman and sophomore girls who look at Kurt with awe and shy smiles, and giggle as they flit away. Kurt seems completely overwhelmed, stunned by the attention and uncertain what to do with it at all. His wide-eyed disbelief is absolutely adorable.

"He's never had that before." Rachel leans toward Blaine in the choir room as they both watch, with entirely too much amusement, how Kurt's trying to deal with Sugar's enthusiastic flirting attempts. "He only really got so... you know, buff and hot over the summer. Girls never used to come on to him before. Oh, I'm going to tease him so much about it!" She grins and Blaine can't hold in a snort. Mischief looks good on her.

Glee is like a love song festival today, and none of the couples in the room seem to care about PDA in the slightest – not that they usually do, but today it seems more obnoxious than ever.

But Blaine has a bigger problem than that. The gift envelope is still in his bag – he forgot all about it in light of Kurt's cookie surprise in the morning, and all throughout the day there was absolutely no privacy to be found anywhere, every nook and cranny occupied by couples. He hoped to convince the siblings to get a ride home with him and give them the package in the car, but it turned out their mom is picking them up today, so there goes his plan B. Now what?

Now, it seems, he'll have to do a little locker break-in. Although, is it even a break-in when he knows the combination, having seen it in use dozens of times? A little trip to the bathroom in between songs – the hallways are empty and silent at this hour – and five minutes later Blaine's back in the choir room, proud of his stealth.

The envelope is in Kurt's locker, front and centre, when they go to pick up their books after Glee, and Kurt's eyes widen as he takes in the tiny Rachel & Kurt on the sealed flap. There are a few people from New Directions still around, so he just tucks the envelope carefully into his bag and only arches his eyebrow at Blaine when they're out in the parking lot. Blaine grins and mouths Happy Valentine's Day, wishing he could see their reactions to his little gift.

The brown box is sealed, so Blaine can't smell anything until he's in his bedroom, cutting the tape and opening the flaps – but then the spicy aroma of anise cookies raises like a heavenly cloud to permeate the air. There's another, bigger bag of them inside – clear cellophane tied closed with a piece of red ribbon, a piece of stiff red paper attached. Blaine reaches for it with a smile and sure enough, it's the recipe Kurt promised him, penned neatly in his curved script. On the back, there's a little note: Attempt #1 of however many. I'll find the right one for you, I promise. K. Blaine already knows he'll keep the card for himself, only making a copy for his mom to have in the kitchen.

It's the most thoughtful gift he'd ever received, one that keeps on giving, and it's not even the only thing in the package.

A black box lies on top of a pink envelope, and Blaine opens it, curious – and gasps.

The bowtie nestled in the box is vibrant red, with a subtle pattern of tiny black musical notes. The fabric is smooth and soft to the touch and Blaine can't resist taking it out and holding it up to the collar of the navy button-up he's wearing today. It looks just right – not too flashy, sort of understated, but classy.

He doesn't wear bowties often, usually choosing simple style, bordering on smart casual, but every now and then, when he feels like having some fun with his clothes, he pulls out one of the few he has. Red will go perfectly with many of his shirts – his wardrobe is full of white and navy and grey. Blaine has no doubt the bowtie was Kurt's idea – it's so much like him to notice things like that; another proof of his thoughtfulness.

It's only when he's putting the bowtie back in the box that Blaine finds the note that was hidden underneath. He opens the plain, cream-colored card, smiling as he reads.

Blaine –

Every time I see you wearing a bowtie, I just want to kiss you breathless. You have no idea how adorable you look in them, or how hot it is that you can actually tie them, do you?

I saw this fabric and I couldn't resist. It would be perfect with that black shirt that accentuates your shoulders so well, the one you were wearing when I first saw you.

I hope you like it – Kurt

His cheeks feel warm when he puts away the note. Black shirt... he knows which one Kurt means; he remembers wearing it the first day of school, and then not until recently because a button fell off and he kept forgetting to sew it back on.

Does it mean Kurt noticed him back then already? That's pretty... wow.

And wait, Kurt said he couldn't resist the fabric, does it mean he made this bowtie? It's hard to believe, it looks so perfect – but sure enough, as Blaine looks closer, he notices the tiny K.H. embroidered discreetly in golden thread, on the inside of the band that goes around his neck. Suddenly the gift feels even more precious: Kurt made it. With his own hands. He thought about Blaine when he saw the fabric, he spent who knows how much time planning and sewing it, just for him.

Wow. His own gift seems so silly right now.

Once he finally stops dancing around the room in elation, the piece of fabric held to his face – and he'd swear he can smell just a hint of Kurt's cologne on it – Blaine reaches for the envelope. It's sealed with a single golden star sticker, and when he opens it, a piece of pink paper slips out first, Rachel's loopy handwriting on top.

Just a little memento of our time together. Happy Valentine's Day!

There's a photo in the envelope, stuck to a piece of golden cardboard that makes a frame, and Blaine can't stop a smile spreading on his face when he sees it. He doesn't know where Rachel found it, but he remembers her pestering everyone who took pictures during West Side Story rehearsals and performances because she wanted to make a scrapbook. This is definitely one of the photos she must have found, and the only one of the three of them together Blaine has ever seen.

It was taken backstage, after one of the shows, and both Blaine and Rachel look a bit tired and mussed, but exhilarated. Rachel is sitting in front of the mirror, turned towards Blaine and Kurt who both stand next to her, and they're all laughing at something, looking happy and unrestrained. It's a lovely picture, even if it's just a candid, a snapshot with a too dark background and people behind them, and Rachel's right. It's a perfect memento, something he'll definitely treasure.

With a smile, he puts the simple frame on his bedside table.

---

"Kurt, baby, why are you crying?"

Kurt looks up from the flower he's holding delicately in his palm – a beautiful, purple origami iris – and quickly dries his eyes with a sleeve. He hasn't even realized he teared up.

"No, it's nothing. Just... the song."

"The song is lovely, and Blaine performs it near perfectly, but it's not one to cry to, is it?"

It's not, not really – in fact, it's one of the most positive, affirming songs Kurt has ever heard. Which doesn't change the fact that he felt his throat tighten as soon as they put on the untitled CD that was in the envelope along with the origami flowers and he heard Blaine's voice singing the opening lines to the accompaniment of the piano.

"I know, but... no one has ever sung to me before, you know? No one but you, at least. I didn't know it would feel like this. And... he recorded the song for us, Rach, to tell us we make him smile. And what happens when we–"

She turns from her corkboard where she's been placing her own flower, a pretty pink rose, and drops to the floor by Kurt's side. He carefully puts away the iris before letting her gather him in a tight embrace.

"Shh, it will be fine. Everything will be fine."

"Promise?" The tears are flowing again, and Kurt doesn't stop them anymore. Rachel kisses his wet, salty lips.

"I promise."

---

The morning after Valentine's Day Blaine arrives at school almost an hour before classes begin, impatient and giddy to see Kurt and Rachel, to thank them and learn if they liked his little gift. The hallways are almost deserted, but they're already there by his locker, bright eyes and brighter smiles, and Blaine's heart stutters at the already-familiar scene in a way that seems new. They have at least a half hour in the empty classroom before other students will start to drift in, but it's just an illusion of privacy, they can't let themselves slip, and Blaine's fingers and lips are itching.

Yes, they loved the song and the flowers, he learns, and Kurt's face in particular is softer, affected somehow, and Blaine can't think about it too much because he'll forget all about where they are and what they're not allowed to do. So he thanks them for their gifts instead, tries to tell them exactly how perfect he found them, but nothing seems like enough, they're just words that can't really express the entirety of his feelings.

So he keeps Kurt behind in the locker room after PE that afternoon, keeps him with a shortest whisper of a plea as they move out of the gym. Miraculously no one dawdles today, no one stays behind or pays them any attention, and soon they're the last two in there, both still not showered and sweaty, and so hot against each other as they hide in the dark corner and press together, frantic and desperate, well aware just how little time they have and determined not to waste any. It's the first time in Blaine's life that he comes in his pants, which is glorious and shocking, and then uncomfortable as hell, and thank god they're going to shower and change anyway. Kurt's face, so bare and stunningly undone in the light of day, is something he'll never be able to wipe off his memory.

It isn't until that evening that Blaine allows himself to verbalize to himself what's been nibbling at his brain all day.

Somewhere between last night and this morning, something seems to have switched in his mind.

He no longer thinks about the Hummelberrys as a unit now. They're not Rachel-and-Kurt anymore, they're two very separate people, with potentially very separate emotions attached to them. There's Rachel and there's Kurt. Or maybe even, there's Kurt, and then Rachel. And it's a little scary and maybe a lot beautiful, but for now, it mostly makes Blaine's head spin, so he leaves it at that and thinks: time will tell.

--------------------------------------

CHAPTER ART by HACHI (click!)

Kurt Hummelberry Appreciation Club

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 5

2013-02-22T23:28:36Z

A/N: We have a masterpost now (it lives on my tumblr sidebar, too) with links to all of the chapters and art in one place.

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Christmas is nice. Cooper comes home for three full days and even though Blaine's parents are on call, their phones stay blissfully silent for once, at least until they have to return to their usual shifts at the hospital. Once Christmas is over, however, the rest of the week drags as if it would never end, and Blaine knows exactly why that is.

He's feeling lonely. And not because Mike is away skiing with his parents – he has a feeling he would be restless and unfocused even with his oldest friend there. Blaine simply misses them, the duo that has become such an essential part of his life lately. The awareness of the thousands of miles between them is almost like a physical ache. They're too far to reach, and what makes it even worse, Blaine has no way to contact them at all until they come back.

By the time January 2nd rolls around, Blaine's room is cleaner than it has been in months, his CDs and DVDs neatly stacked and organized alphabetically, and a few of his favorite books reread again.

And when Rachel and Kurt come back, they come with a bang.

"How would you like to spend the evening with us tonight? Our parents won't be home until tomorrow."

Rachel, like the tease extraordinaire she is, whispers an invitation into Blaine's ear just as they are walking to their first class after Christmas break – and of course Blaine's focus is gone for the day, shifted towards things so much more interesting than classes.

His teachers are not impressed.

He sneaks to the Hummelberrys' back door as soon as it's dark enough to avoid the nosy neighbors' eyes, and minutes later he's upstairs, in the cozy attic bedroom, his arms full of Rachel who's kissing him enthusiastically. The way she looks tonight makes Blaine's mouth go dry – she's barefooted, her short white dress floaty and practically sheer, revealing the line of her panties and the shape of her breasts, bare and perky under the thin fabric. She's wearing more make-up than Blaine has ever seen on her, and it makes her look older, more refined. He's not sure if he likes it, actually. Her sweet, girly appearance is what caught his attention in the first place, and a big part of her charm. He wonders if she realizes that.

She kisses Blaine deep and dirty, overwhelming all his senses for a moment, only to laugh brightly and push him away and towards Kurt, who's standing quietly by his bed. And it's funny how clear the differences are between the two again. Kurt's embrace and his soft kiss are like a hello and I missed you, and it's good to have you back here, and any irrational anxiety Blaine may have had before coming here tonight, any fear that it would feel awkward and wrong after all this time and without the heady rush of post-performance adrenaline, melts into nothing. He's right where he wants to be, and he's wanted here.

There is so little time – always too little, just a few hours before he needs to go – so they don't lose any. One kiss leads to another, to a touch, a stroke, a moan, and soon Blaine is sitting on Kurt's bed, his shirt unbuttoned and his lap full of a hot, passionate, barely-clothed girl. She's straddling his thighs, her sinful lips exploring the side of his neck, and she wiggles a little when Blaine traces the shape of her breasts over flimsy fabric with shaky fingers. The fact that he's allowed to do this, and the way Rachel's nipples harden into tight buds under his reverent touch – it feels surreal and short-circuits his brain a little. So it's no wonder, really, that it takes him a long while to realize something is missing.

Or someone.

Once he does, however, Blaine twists to look around so fast that Rachel almost slips off his knees, letting out a disgruntled little squeak.

"Kurt?" He's not sure why the possibility of Kurt not being here fills him with something akin to panic, but it does. Then there's a warm hand on his shoulder and Blaine leans back to find a firm, solid body just inches behind him, strong arms embracing his waist the moment he melts into it.

"I'm right here. I didn't want to... interrupt the two of you."

"I wouldn't mind." Blaine is already mouthing at Kurt's neck, straining to get to his lips. In his lap, Rachel snorts with what sounds like a mixture of frustration and amusement.

Kurt leans into the kiss easily, his palms two centers of tingling heat against Blaine's bare stomach, but something feels off, there's tension in the air.

"What's wrong?" It's barely a whisper against Kurt's lips and Blaine is so glad that Rachel has just slid off his knees because Kurt doesn't exactly meet his eyes and Blaine needs to know why. He turns and kneels so that he's facing the other boy. "You are... distant?"

"I just... I don't know what I can... How much do you–" Kurt pauses and bites his lip. "I mean, we've only made out so far, but... if we went any further. Would it be okay? I don't want to freak you out, so –"

Blaine feels a wave of tenderness sweep through him as he cups Kurt's cheek and says with all the certainty he feels.

"You won't freak me out. I promise. I may never have thought I'd want to be with a boy before, but... it feels right. With you. It's what I want. All of it, eventually." He knows he's blushing, and the images behind the words make his brain melt a little, but he needs to make it clear. "So why don't we just... see where the evening takes us?"

It seems to be just the right thing to say because the next thing Blaine knows, he's down on his back with Kurt kissing him senseless, like he's been allowed air after being denied for way too long. Frankly, it feels that way to Blaine, too. He's fantasized about this moment for so long – every night since their last time like this, and having Kurt here, having them both close like this feels almost too good to be true.

Time disappears, irrelevant, as the only rhythm that counts is that of three heartbeats, the only sounds – the primal music of gasps and moans, and whispers of slowly discarded clothing. The light is dimmed, just a lamp standing in the corner of the room, illuminating the way their skin colors match and blend as they lay tangled on the bed, stripped down to their underwear – from Kurt's pure porcelain tones, through Rachel's creamy peach, to Blaine's own darker, olive hue. He catches their reflection in the mirrors of Kurt's closet door and gasps at how stunning they look together, and tries to etch this picture deep into his memory before Rachel's lips on his nipple distract him again.

Just like Blaine suspected, nothing they do that night feels even remotely like too much to him. In fact, it's Rachel who leaves the bed first, kissing them both sweetly before floating through the attic to disappear behind the partition. Blaine's hand has just found its way towards the bulge of Kurt's erection a few minutes earlier and he's absolutely sure the way Kurt is reacting to every stroke and press of his fingers must be the hottest thing in the whole universe.

He looks up briefly when Rachel leaves, covered by nothing but her lacy white panties and the dark curtain of her hair flowing freely halfway down her back. She looks stunning. But then Kurt presses even closer in the newly vacated space, his fingertips toying with the waistband of Blaine's boxer briefs, and there's no room in Blaine's thoughts anymore but for Kurt's breathless "Is this okay?" and his own "Yes, please yes."

They end up naked in the tangled sheets, sweaty and panting, but unwilling to put even an inch of space between their bodies any sooner than it's absolutely necessary, even when the stickiness of come over their skin turns into cold, uncomfortable mess. There's no telling when they get to be like this again, safe and content in the little bubble of them, and Blaine wishes there was a way to record this feeling and play it back when he needs it, complete with the soft warmth of Kurt's skin against his, the perfect sweetness of his kisses and the absolute happiness of lying together like this, too blissed out to move.

The next thing Blaine knows, there's someone singing nearby, a strong voice that he recognizes as Rachel's as soon as he's half-awake. Kurt is already stretching in his arms before nuzzling his face into the crook of Blaine's shoulder, flushed and adorably sleepy.

"That's her way of letting us know it's getting late, I guess. We must have dozed off." Kurt yawns like a kitten before calling towards the partition. "Thank you, Rach!"

"You're welcome." She sounds bright and chipper. "Are you awake now? Can I put the headphones back on?"

"Sure, we'll be up in a sec."

A few more minutes of kissing and it's time to go, and Blaine should probably regret falling asleep and losing almost an hour of time where they could have done more of... anything, really, except he can't regret falling asleep in Kurt's arms and waking up a kiss away from him. This was a part of their evening he'd never fantasized about, and yet discovered he loved it as much as the sex itself.

It's then that it actually hits him: he just had sex, didn't he? He's not sure what the definitions are when it's between two boys, but what they did tonight definitely felt like sex to him. Turning onto his street, puffing out little clouds of breath in the cold January air as he walks, he has to smile at the irony of the fact that West Side Story – if not Artie's comment directly – was the beginning of the strange, wild thing the three of them have now.

Maybe he should send Artie flowers.

It's late that night, when Blaine is lying in bed, wide awake and going through every detail of their evening in his head, when the realization comes, freezing the smile on his face.

Rachel never came back after she left the bed. She didn't even come to say goodnight, didn't peek from behind her partition, nothing. Was she offended? Mad at him? He got completely sidetracked, lost in Kurt, she must have felt ignored, left on her own when the two of them–

Oh god, he acted like a Neanderthal, didn't he? Completely neglecting her needs, forgetting all about her the second Kurt's hand was on his cock, and – even worse! – falling asleep afterwards, while she sat there, alone and unsatisfied. No girl would tolerate such behavior, and rightfully so – and Rachel, with her rather tempestuous, dramatic tendencies... God, she'll never forgive him, will she? And if she won't, what about Kurt? Will he at least still talk to Blaine? Or did he just lose them both because he was thinking with his dick instead of his brain?

Blaine can barely sleep that night. He can just watch the digits on his alarm clock push the hours forward as he lies awake, worrying and analyzing, dreading the morning. They've become so important to him, he has no idea how he could function without them in his life anymore. Slowly and surely, over the last two months they'd become his friends, his lovers, the most important people in his life. Rachel's laughter, Kurt's voice, every smile and expression and gesture, it's all so tightly woven into the fabric of Blaine's life now that he can't imagine it gone and when he tries, it feels like he's suffocating.

But what's the chance that the three of them would be alright? He will grovel and apologize and beg Rachel to forgive him, he will promise to do better next time – if he's allowed a next time. Oh please, let him be allowed another time...

But god, he has no idea what he's doing. He's never been with anyone, sexually or not, what made him think he could handle a relationship with two people, and such exceptional ones? He was clearly delusional, thinking he could be what they need.

For the first time since November, Blaine finds himself completely unmotivated to get out of bed in the morning. He does anyway. He needs to talk to Rachel – probably to both of them, if they'll even want to talk – and there's no better time than before classes start.

Rachel and Kurt are standing next to Blaine's locker when he arrives, deep in a conversation, and it sends his heart into a stuttering gallop – are they talking about him? Deciding what to do, how to end it, clean and fast? His feet slow down without his conscious decision, as if trying to postpone the inevitable, but he's so close – too close – and maybe he could turn away and flee, hide, disappear, maybe they wouldn't notice–

Just then they look around and – yeah, it's too late now, they've noticed him already.

They've noticed – and they're smiling. Brightly, happily, and there's tenderness in Kurt's eyes, unhidden affection still lingering since last night, and this alone warms Blaine to the bone, soothes his nerves, but – Rachel's smiling too. No anger in her face, no pouting or scowling, no sign of trouble at all.

Blaine doesn't understand.

He didn't bring coffee this morning, not sure it wouldn't be thrown in his face if Rachel was feeling particularly dramatic (and yes, now, in the light of day, he does recognize how ridiculously over the top some of his night fears were), but he gestures towards the empty classroom anyway.

"Can we talk?"

Now they look worried, and really, Blaine needs to get this sorted out in his head because right now, he has no idea where he stands with them.

"Are you mad at me?" he turns to Rachel as soon as they're settled in their seats.

Her eyebrows rise in surprise. "Why would I be mad at you, Blaine?"

"Last night. I... I got distracted – wonderfully distracted, but I didn't pay you enough attention, no attention really, and you left, and I'm sorry, I should have, but I was – it was –"

A brush of cool fingers over his hand makes him pause.

Kurt is looking at him with something warm and soft in his face, and Rachel is shaking her head, eyes wide.

"Oh no, honey, did you worry about it all night? Is that why you look so tired? Of course I'm not mad, I have no reason to be mad at you." She glances around to make sure they are still alone and continues quietly. "I left because you boys looked like you had it covered, you didn't need me there, did you? Believe me, I would have gotten your attention if I wanted to." She smirks, sassy and confident. "I just decided it was time to call it a night. It was my decision, you did nothing wrong. And it will most likely happen again next time, so–" She shrugs and smiles. "Are you okay with that?"

He can barely think beyond next time, there will be a next time, but he nods emphatically. "Yes." There's still worry lingering in the back of his mind though. "But. Shouldn't we... have some rules? For when we're alone? Because I feel like I made a terrible faux pas and you say it was okay, and clearly my instincts are completely off here and I get carried away and I don't know– I just don't want to offend either of you, ever, but I don't know what I'm doing."

It's Kurt who answers this time, earnest and understanding. "Do you need rules? Because we can make some up if you do, but maybe... Can we just do what feels right and promise to talk if something doesn't?"

Rachel nods in agreement and supplies, "I mean, Kurt and I don't go beyond a certain comfort zone with each other, and I can't lose my virginity, but other than that –" Blaine feels his jaw drop and Rachel frowns. "What?"

"I thought... you two..."

There's a moment of confusion; Kurt gets it first and chuckles. "You thought we were having sex? Oh god, Blaine, no! There's a limit, you know. She may not be my real sister, but nope. No actual sex."

"But you seem so experienced! And with what you said about getting in trouble in LA, I thought–" Blaine's head is still reeling with this newest discovery, and it's probably awfully rude and completely ungentlemanly to say things like this, but he can't seem to control his mouth right now. Thankfully, they both laugh before Kurt explains.

"Oh, she got some experience in LA – we both did, I guess, with a couple of girls from our old school. It was nothing as wild as you probably imagine though. Remember how our parents are, they really didn't need much to call it trouble. Truth be told, they thought it was me who set it up and Rachel was just covering for me. It would have gone way worse if they knew otherwise."

"So they're... homophobic?" They rarely talk about their parents and Blaine just wants to know, sometimes, certain it would help him understand better.

Kurt gets more serious now. "In their own way, yes. Let's say that... they think it's a question of choice, and it's as treatable as it is unnatural. They believe in sending gay people to those therapies that are supposed to make them straight, for their own good, of course. So... yeah. Coming out is not an option."

"I prefer boys, though. I just wanted to experiment." Rachel adds with a smile. They both look so calm even though Blaine's skin is crawling at the thought of such ignorance and what it must feel like for them to live with it every day.

The warning bell cuts their conversation short as the rest of the class starts to fill the room. Rachel shoots Blaine one last smile before turning to take out her books. "So, you're still interested, now that you know all that?"

"Absolutely." And he is, probably even more so. Before, he felt a little like a clueless child in comparison to what he thought Kurt and Rachel knew and experienced. Now that he knows they're on fairly even ground, it feels even sweeter, more precious. They're figuring things out together. It feels like a gift.

That second evening alone seems to be the confirmed, tangible proof that they really are more than good friends. It's like crossing a line that lets them be more – more open, more daring, both platonically and not.

They start taking some risks that – objectively – they definitely shouldn't take: whispering private little thoughts in the hallways or even in class, ones that make them blush and grin for long minutes afterwards. Meeting with Kurt in the boys restroom once, then in a janitor's closet with Rachel, to trade hurried kisses. Wandering off to hide under the bleachers during a free period, seeking privacy.

They're playing with fire.

But there's more than that: Blaine feels like he can be more open with them as a friend now. For the first time he dares to ask questions about their personal lives, things that have been bothering him for some time – no longer afraid they might shut him out for being nosy. He's still careful about his wording, though – he knows they're both fiercely proud, and definitely doesn't want to offend them. But he has his observations, his guesses.

They always walk to school instead of driving, no matter the weather; always bring their own lunch, and Blaine suspects it's not just because it's healthy and organic, like Kurt states. Their clothes are varied and amazing, but surprisingly, always complemented by the same few pairs of shoes.

So no, he doesn't ask if there are money troubles in their family. But he offers them a ride home one particularly freezing January afternoon, and it's a standing invitation from then on, one they accept every now and then. He brings them coffee three times a week, just because he can, and besides, Kurt's morning pastries have become a standard lately. He finally asks why they have no cell phones or computers – a fact that's so unusual it's been on his mind for months now – and learns it's part of their parents' plan to keep them in check after the LA "trouble".

He tells them more about himself, too – how his parents never seem to have enough time for anything, so their house and their life is always a little crazy, a bit off-balance, though never lacking love or care. How Cooper is sometimes so full of himself it grates on everyone's nerves, but Blaine loves him dearly. About his childhood memories and his future dreams. About everything, really, and sometimes he feels like maybe he shouldn't when the siblings' eyes grow a bit melancholy, but they always ask anyway, so he talks.

It feels so good to be able to talk so freely, without wondering about what he should and shouldn't say. He's so much closer to Rachel and Kurt now, in every way – and every day, every conversation and stolen kiss, every smile and every little thing he learns about them only deepens Blaine's infatuation.

"You look lovely today," Blaine says in lieu of a greeting as he approaches his locker one morning, Rachel twirling in front of it. The navy dress she is wearing despite the cruel cold outside falls just above her knees and is as modest as all of her school clothes – no low necklines or risky cuts – but it's perfectly fitted on her, the skirt of it flowing gracefully around her slender legs as she turns around once more and bows, beaming.

"Thank you! Kurt did an amazing job on it, didn't he?"

"Kurt?" Blaine glances between them, incomprehensive.

"Well yes. He makes or fits most of our clothes, didn't he tell you? He's kind of a fashion prodigy."

Kurt looks bashful where he's leaning against a locker, cheeks pink and eyes trained on the floor, and Blaine smiles, another mystery of the siblings solved.

"Wow. That's... really impressive." He says in an awed voice. "You two are always so well-dressed, I never would have guessed–"

"Pff." Kurt looks at him with a smirk. "Of course custom-made clothes look better than off the rack, Blaine. But thank you. I like to think I'm pretty good at it."

"So do all of his fans on etsy." Rachel singsongs, and Kurt shushes her, glaring. She winks at Blaine, nonplussed, and adds in a stage whisper. "But shh, it's a secret."

"Of course." He smiles at Kurt, his curiosity peaked. "So are you planning a career in fashion then?"

He's not sure what he said wrong, but Kurt's expression changes at that, closing off like a shutter.

"I... I don't know yet. Time will tell." He shrugs and plasters an overly bright smile on his face. "So what are you planning for this week's Glee assignment?"

Closer or not, Blaine knows when not to push.

"So, is he taken?" Sugar, a willowy freshman who joined them after Sectionals plops down on the chair next to Blaine one day, at the beginning of February. He startles, hastily looking away from where Kurt is standing up front, laughing at something Mike said, with his head thrown back and the long line of his throat exposed.

"What? Who?"

Sugar laughs brightly and shakes her head. "Kurt Hummelberry, of course. Is there some girlfriend waiting in LA?"

Okay, everyone is long used to Blaine being the Hummelberrys' best friend, but still –

"Kurt? Really?"

Sugar lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I know, of course you don't understand, you only have eyes for Rachel." Blaine opens his mouth – to say what, he's not even sure – but she chatters on. "But Kurt... we were wondering, with the girls. Yum, he's hot."

Blaine shuts his mouth with a click. Of course he is, no one knows it better than Blaine, but – "Seriously?"

Sugar shrugs. "You can't see it, I know. But look at him." She actually turns his face toward the front where Kurt is now trying to mimic some dance move Mike is showing him, one that involves a lot of swaying hips, fuck. "Look. His face, his eyes, his arms. His ass, Blaine. And those lips were made for kissing, I'm sure of it. Not to mention, have you seen any other guy at this school who looks as classy? I mean, you're not bad, but Kurt... So. Is he? Taken?"

Blaine has to shake his head a little to clear it from the images that he prefers not to think about unless he's alone. "Um. Not that I know of." He isn't. Technically.

Sugar bounces a little. "Excellent. I'll tell the girls." She pauses, then adds. "She's totally not into you, by the way. Rachel, I mean. She's not interested romantically, believe me, I have a sixth sense about those things. You're welcome."

And with that, she skips away, leaving Blaine with his mouth open and his mind reeling.

------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER ART BY HACHI (click!)

Oh, Sugar...

Let's Play Pretend - masterpost

2013-02-22T16:49:16Z

LET'S PLAY PRETEND
MASTERPOST

The tumblr tag for this project is fic: let's play pretend, but since it seems to be acting up today, I got motivated to get all the links together in one place. Here you go!

[LJ]

[scarves&coffee]

[FF (without links or pretty headers)]

TUMBLR:

Teaser poster #1

Teaser poster #2

Chapter 1: Mystery

                Photoset: Passing by

                Video: The audition

Chapter 2: West Side Story

                Photoset: Backstage

Chapter 3: Changes

                Photoset: The first kiss

                Photoset: "You took my breath away"

Chapter 4: Friends

                Image: They are so very different...

Chapter 5: Trust

                Photoset: Oh, Sugar...

Chapter 6: Valentine's Day

                Photoset: Kurt Hummelberry Appreciation Club

Chapter 7: Kurt

                Photoset: New house rules

Chapter 8: Shadows and Lights

                Photoset: Regionals

                Photoset: The morning after

Chapter 9: New York

                Photoset: For Good

Chapter 10: Silence

                Photoset: The bridge

                Photoset: You should have known

                Video: Let's Play Pretend: the movie

Epilogue

... and don't miss this Very Special Video :)

Creators:

anxioussquirrel (words)

headbandxbowties (art)

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 4

2013-02-21T23:33:52Z

"Blaine! Where were you last night? We were all waiting for our lead actors to join us and neither of you guys came." Artie is cheerful this afternoon, riding on the steady waves of praise and eager for another successful night.

"Sorry. I was too tired, I went right to bed."

"Me too." Rachel chimes in. She's just breezed in, looking fresh and lovely, and a breath catches in Blaine's throat as another, much less innocent picture of her seems to overlay. "I needed my beauty sleep to be my best tonight."

She's all business again. And yet, when she looks at Blaine, there's a new kind of warmth there, affection similar to how she is as Maria, even though she isn't in character yet.

"Okay, come, my Tony. Let's get over this one part we didn't get quite right last night." She takes his hand as if she did it every single day, and pulls him to the stage.

Blaine wants to ask her about last night, but it's not that easy – she's in rehearsal mode right away, fully focused on their act. Then other people start filing in and soon enough there's no room for private conversation, even if Rachel did take a moment to listen.

But at least their kiss is flawless this time, even if it leaves Blaine entirely distracted with sense memory, and Artie can't get over how much more chemistry there is between them now. There's so much, in fact, that Blaine needs to call for a short break to get back his focus, which stubbornly keeps wandering off towards memories of last night.

The hallways are deserted still, too early for the audience to start gathering, and he walks to the bathroom slowly, taking deep breaths, intent on splashing his face with cold water and getting his thoughts under control again. This is not the time to think about anything but his role, but it's nearly impossible to focus with Rachel there, a constant reminder, and Blaine's head full of questions.

Except when he reaches his destination, there's already someone there, standing in front of the mirror and fixing his hair.

Kurt.

He looks amazing today, quietly beautiful, but he stiffens visibly when Blaine enters. It can't be a good sign.

"Hey."

"Hi, Blaine." Kurt pronounces his name in this soft way again, his way, and it goes straight to Blaine's chest.

"Listen, about last night..." Blaine can clearly see the tension growing in Kurt's shoulders, his eyes flicking away for a heartbeat. He powers through, desperate to know. "Kurt, what are we?"

Confusion on Kurt's face, as if he didn't expect this particular question. "What do you mean?"

"Is it... was it a one-time thing? You and me and Rachel... does it change anything? Between us?"

"Oh." That's all it takes; most of the tension leaves Kurt's body with one soft exhalation. "Do you want it to? To... change things?"

Blaine nods slowly, feeling a blush spread over his face. "I... yes. I'd like that."

Kurt smiles, bright and sudden, and only now it hits Blaine that the reason for his tense demeanor might not have been the anticipation of Blaine getting clingy or wanting more when there was nothing to be offered. His eyes widen when he realizes the obvious.

Kurt thought Blaine would freak out, didn't he? That he'd ask him never to mention it to anyone, maybe. Because they kissed, they made out. Shirtless. On a bed. And Blaine has never given anyone reason to believe that he liked boys.

Well, he hasn't known it himself, has he?

And he's still fine with it, to the point of wondering if the freak-out will ever come at all. Somehow, he doubts it.

Kurt turns to face him now, and even through the smile, he sighs. "I – we – would like that, too. But it's not quite so easy, you know?"

Well duh.

He must have it written all over his face because Kurt smirks and shakes his head.

"No, I mean it. Remember when I said our parents are strict? We're not allowed to date. Or have people over, or even visit friends. If anyone knew about this, us, it would get to them sooner or later. The gossip net among the parents here is almost as bad as the students, you know? Worse, sometimes. And if our parents found out that we're seeing you, either of us – we'd be screwed."

It's hard to believe it can be that bad. Blaine knows not many parents are as tolerant as his but screwed sounds a little dramatic. Doesn't it?

Kurt must see the disbelief in Blaine's eyes because he smiles sadly.

"I'm not blowing it up. We... messed up in our old school; it's a long story. So now we're on a short leash, so to speak. If we break the rules, we'll have our extracurricular rights revoked, for starters, and we already had to make some sacrifices to get those, so–"

"Wait, even Glee?" Blaine's jaw drops.

"Especially Glee, since it's what we care about most and they know it. The musical, Rachel's ballet. Anything that takes our attention away from what's essential: school and family." Kurt shrugs. "I'm telling you this so that you know up front, any kind of... relationship with us would have to be completely secret, Blaine. And probably nothing like you imagine. It wouldn't really be like last night all that often."

"How come last night was possible then?"

"Our parents were in LA. They have to go back there sometimes, for a couple of days. But it only happens once every few months, and even then they have the neighbors check in on us."

"Good thing you don't have a babysitter." It's a lame attempt at a joke, but at least it makes Kurt smile again, and Blaine reaches to briefly touch Kurt's hand resting on the counter. "I don't care, Kurt. I just... I'd like to get closer to you. Both of you. I'd like to get to know you better. To be your friend?" He finishes on a question because he's not sure if it's something Kurt would even consider.

"Just a friend?" There's a teasing note in Kurt's voice, and Blaine blushes and ducks his head.

"No. Definitely not just a friend. I... I like you. A lot."

A school bathroom, with its drab look and the smell of bleach permeating the air, is hardly an ideal place for such confessions, but that's what they have. And now here it is, out in the open. Kurt's eyes shine brightly and his smile is unexpectedly shy when he says, softly,

"I like you too."

And then he is leaning just a bit closer and Blaine mirrors the move, meeting him in a short, sweet kiss. They part too soon because this is a public place, after all, and he knows now that the consequences of being seen are graver than Blaine having to explain his newly-found sexuality twist to the world. There's too much at stake and he wouldn't risk Kurt's – or Rachel's – wellbeing like that, no matter how much his body craves this newly discovered bliss of closeness and touch.

But even as Kurt leaves the bathroom with a soft "See you later," Blaine's heart is singing anyway.

That night Blaine's parents are in the audience and they steal him away to a congratulatory dinner before he can even talk with anyone afterwards. Still, he knows Kurt must have told Rachel about their talk because all through the play she's been more affectionate than ever. Plus, when they got off the stage after the final bows, she hugged him tightly before bouncing off to change.

And then Monday comes and some things shift – small, unexpected things that fill Blaine's life with sudden light.

He runs into school five minutes before the final bell in the morning, still fixing his hair and mentally shuffling through the contents of his locker to determine what he needs to grab before heading to class. He's hit the snooze button too many times again before finally rolling out of bed – a habit he really should try harder to eradicate because as much as he hates getting up early, he hates being in a hurry a lot more.

He's so preoccupied that he only notices someone leaning against his locker when he's two feet away, and instantly his day gets a lot brighter.

"Morning." Rachel all but purrs, sultry and seductive, before dissolving into giggles. Kurt just smiles and extends a small brown paper bag towards Blaine.

"Hi! What's this?"

"Breakfast." Kurt states matter-of-factly, and Blaine's stomach grumbles loudly. Of course he didn't have time to eat anything in the morning rush, but how would they know?

He opens the bag and the smell of cinnamon and sugar hits him in a warm wave. There are two cinnamon rolls there, and he can't resist taking one and biting into it immediately, a loud moan ripping out of his throat. It's absolutely delicious, freshly baked, and how is that even possible? There is no bakery anywhere near McKinley.

"Kurt made them." Rachel submits. Clearly, Blaine's confusion wasn't exactly hidden. "He needs ridiculously little sleep and he gets bored in the mornings."

Blaine looks at Kurt with wide eyes. They'll never stop surprising him, will they?

"God, they're amazing! Thank you, I didn't have time to grab breakfast this morning so you may have just saved my life." He says, opening his locker one-handed and taking the books he needs for his first class.

Kurt smirks. "Oh, I know. It's Monday. You always rush in at the last moment on Mondays."

Blaine's jaw drops a little. It's true. Mondays are always hardest for him when it comes to getting up, after sleeping in during the weekends. But he's never thought anyone noticed that; and definitely not them.

He doesn't have time to ask anything (and potentially embarrass himself) because just then the bell rings and they all move towards their first classroom of the day. But even when they're seated and in the middle of the history lecture, Blaine can see Kurt's smile in his peripheral vision, and can't help smiling back.

At lunch, Blaine joins the siblings at their table in the courtyard. They sit together in Glee, too, and Blaine is a little surprised that no one is looking at him weird by now. But then he remembers that even though the others have no way of knowing what happened between the three of them, becoming friends with your co-star from the play must look pretty natural. And since said co-star is never without her brother... well, it all seems very organic.

They still have three shows this week, but Sectionals are in two weeks, too, so the usual rush of preparations begins. On Monday it's still very chaotic, but Blaine knows the drill well by now. They'll spend a week arguing over songs and solos. Then there'll be another week of frantic practicing, probably embellished by song changes and some inside drama. And then they'll get their shit together minutes before the competition and they'll be amazing. Because that's what they do.

In the meantime, Blaine lets himself immerse in the completely new, incomparable feeling of having... hm. Not a girlfriend; not a boyfriend. But at the same time, friends who are both. He's allowed to think about them like this; to fantasize. He can interpret every suggestive word, every glance at his lips and covert touch of his hand, the way he wants to see them – because he knows that's how they're meant. It's almost scary, at the beginning; and then it isn't scary at all because Rachel catches him looking longingly at Kurt's lips and smiles, and calms his nervous blabbering with a firm "It's alright. You're not the only one who wants this."

They don't have a lot of time together: only at school, mostly just lunch breaks and Glee. But then one morning Blaine arrives at his locker early, because he knows the siblings will be there already, with three cups of coffee he grabbed at the Lima Bean on the way – mocha for Kurt, cappuccino for Rachel, latte for himself. They settle in the still empty classroom and talk, and soon it becomes their thing, the mornings with coffee or Kurt's pastries, half an hour before most people arrive, to warm up and wake up properly for the day.

Blaine no longer has a problem with getting up in the morning.

Mornings are also when the siblings are most open, most likely to talk about themselves, and slowly, Blaine gets to learn things about them as they let him in, little by little.

He learns that Kurt lost his dad early and Rachel never really knew her mom; that their parents got together when they were both nine. He learns that Rachel is three and a half months older than Kurt, and that they hated each other for the first months living together, until it all came to a head and they discovered just how similar they were, with their defiance and their strong opinions, and their love of music. They've loved each other ever since.

Blaine tries to ask when it first became something more, but they swiftly change the topic. He doesn't ask again. Inquiring about the nature of their problems in LA ends the same way. He only learns that their parents got relocated, and decided it was a good opportunity to tame the kids with a new school and a new place.

He's shocked to learn they don't have cell phones, or internet access at home. He must admit it has its perks, though, because while he hates not being able to contact them outside of school, it saves him from the embarrassment of the late night texts that he might have been tempted to send otherwise, sounding like a lovesick puppy. The things that come to him when he's in his bed late at night, right before falling asleep – the thoughts about Rachel or Kurt, or both of them – tend to be terribly cheesy. He knows, he writes them down sometimes, makes notes in his phone in the darkness. They always make him blush in the morning.

Those first two weeks, between the opening night and Sectionals, are enough for Blaine to realize just how different the siblings are, though they seem so similar in so many ways.

With Rachel, they always seem to end up talking about music or theater, as they're really knowledgeable and honestly passionate about both. Rachel is unlikely to surprise him with a personal question or a deep conversation; she doesn't dig in the past or inquire about future.

With Kurt, on the other hand, Blaine can never be sure what to expect. They can be talking about school and then suddenly jump to social justice, or dreams, or fashion that Kurt seems to know plenty about, or politics. Kurt asks, and asks plenty, like he wants to know all the little things about Blaine: if he likes reading and what is the furthest he's ever traveled; how old he was when he had his first girlfriend (he looks stunned when Blaine confesses he never did) and where he imagines himself in ten years.

But when the questions are directed back at him, Kurt expertly changes the topic.

Those two weeks are also enough to realize that each of them affects Blaine differently.

With Rachel, it's a simple, steady hum of attraction under his skin and in his fingertips when she's near, she's all soft lips and gentle curves and silky hair.

Kurt is a tempestuous boiling of want; he's desire lacing Blaine's blood with dark smudges of thoughts that make him blush. One look, a smile, tilting his head just so, the line of his long legs as he's walking somewhere at the other end of the hallway or dancing in Glee – even the most innocent moments can grip Blaine sometimes and keep him hostage, make him squirm.

If he were to compare each of them to ice-cream flavors, Rachel would be the best French vanilla, sweet and rich, with occasional pockets of hidden caramel when she turns on her sultry, seductive side.

Kurt... Kurt is the finest dark chocolate, bitter-sweet and sublime, surprising with a chili aftertaste, a bit of mint filling, an almond hidden where you never expected it.

Rachel means jerking off every time after they kiss onstage – late at night when Blaine's back home, safely ensconced in his bed behind a closed door.

Two minutes of kissing Kurt, one unexpected afternoon when they're miraculously the last ones left in the empty locker room after PE, and Blaine ends up getting off desperately in a school restroom because the need is overwhelming and immediate, blocking all the other thoughts and impossible to conceal in his skinny jeans before he gets to Glee practice.

Rachel's charm is simple and easy to understand, it's up on the surface, obvious when she allows it to be. She seems innocent and cute most of the time – but Blaine saw her other side, the one with stronger make-up and more revealing clothes, with open seductiveness, and now it's so easy to notice it glinting in her eyes sometimes, hidden behind the sweet mask of her face, or in the way her body moves.

Kurt never acts seductively. He just is, calm and quiet, sometimes even standoffish, but always attentive. Sometimes shy, almost vulnerable when there are no other people around.

They are so very different. Blaine still can't believe he's allowed to like and desire both of them.

The Warblers from Dalton Academy – their only real competition at Sectionals – are amazing, it turns out. But New Directions are right there with them. There's a fire in their performance, bright and infectious, and Blaine doesn't think they've ever been so good before, and it's very much Rachel's doing.

Blaine really wasn't surprised to see her featured heavily in their setlist. No one was, though some of the girls grumbled a little, disappointed to be pushed into the background by a newcomer. But everyone knew it was the best choice. Rachel is a natural born leader and her voice is spectacular. Blaine doesn't understand why she says she's not planning a career in performance arts.

Whatever her reasons, she's more than happy to shine during Sectionals. She has a solo and a duet with Blaine, and even an essential part in their group number. It's a lot for a single person in a show choir, but she handles it beautifully. Blaine just wishes Kurt's magical voice was more featured, but he realizes it's hard to find songs that would show it off properly and still be competition material. Kurt doesn't seem to care too much anyway.

They end up in a draw with the Warblers. Personally, Blaine is convinced they should have won over the bunch of uniformed acapella boys, but what's important is that they are going to Regionals. And then to Nationals, they'll be damned if they don't, with that much power and awesomeness.

In all the celebratory bouncing and group-hugging, it takes Blaine a while to realize that Rachel and Kurt are not with them.

He can't find them anywhere backstage, so he goes out to the slowly emptying auditorium – and yes, there they are, talking to a middle-aged couple. It takes a moment to compute, from their body language and the way the woman's eyes look exactly like Kurt's, but then Blaine smiles. They haven't told him their parents were going to be here today, but it's great, it always feels so good when his own parents manage to find time to come see him perform. Which they didn't this time, there were surgeries and appointments and lectures that couldn't be rescheduled, but he's happy for his friends, to see them supported like this.

He's just considering going over to introduce himself, just as a friend, of course – and tell Rachel and Kurt there's going to be a celebration at Breadstix tonight – but Kurt notices him and his eyes widen, his head shaking minutely, no. Blaine's smile fades. Are they ashamed of him? Why would they? He's nice and polite, his other friends' parents always love him; is he that much of a secret that they can't even admit he's their friend? Fine, okay. Feeling a little hurt, he slides back behind the curtains and returns to the greenroom.

He's still frowning a minute later when Kurt walks in to gather their things and let everyone know they won't be going back with them. He leans close to Blaine on his way out the door, just a warm whisper against his ear.

"You're way too transparent when you look at us; they'd know, or at least suspect. Trust me, it's better. And god, I just want to kiss you when you pout like this."

And then he's gone, and Blaine is left aching for the touch, the kiss, the time alone.

The week before Christmas is always crazy at McKinley, and doubly so for the Glee club members. Even though Coach Sue isn't playing Grinch this year and Mr. Schue has finally accepted that going from classroom to classroom caroling will never be a good idea, they are still busy. There is Christmas cheer to be spread and charities to sing for, and money to be earned so that they can afford to go to Regionals in March. There's also plenty of fun to be had as they decorate the choir room and play with Christmas songs to their hearts' content.

It's refreshing to see how much Rachel and Kurt are enjoying it. The rest of the club is mostly used to it now, after the last year or two, but seeing his newest friends get carried away and lose themselves in the Christmas spirit despite their usual careful distance gives Blaine a special kind of thrill. He loves Christmas. He loves the colorful lights and the smell of Christmas trees, the snow and the way everyone seems to be happy, if only for a little while.

Rachel and Kurt are going back to LA for Christmas, only to return on January 2nd, and Blaine finds himself a little torn about it. On one hand, he's going to miss them, he knows that already. Ever since West Side Story, the longest they went without seeing each other was the weekends, and even then he could feel the pull towards them by Sunday afternoon. On the other – he really doesn't know where he stands with them, and what it means in relation to Christmas.

If he had a girlfriend – or a boyfriend, for that matter – it would be easy: a thoughtful gift, spending time together during the break, kissing under the mistletoe. But there's nothing ordinary or traditional about them. They're friends, yes, but other than that? Does it count as more when they've only kissed once during the six weeks since the play premiere, and mostly they're just a big secret, barely acknowledging that there's anything more than friendship there? Is there anything more, besides attraction and sexual tension, and a whole lot of fantasies? Blaine doesn't want to assume, or push them by acting like their boyfriend even in those short moments when there are no people around, and frankly, sometimes he feels like that evening in their attic bedroom was just a vivid, wonderful dream.

In the end, they only exchange brief, awkward hugs (they're in public, after all) and cheerful wishes of Merry Christmas, and then the Hummelberrys are gone for a full long week.

VISUAL MAGIC BY HACHI (click!)

They're so very different...

Etched Into My Skin - chapter 14

2013-02-21T14:23:34Z

CHAPTER 14

Testing the new side effect of their marks was like being granted a wish Blaine never knew he had. It was awkward at first – they didn't talk about it when they met the day after that phone conversation, and there was a lot of furious blushing on both parts. Every time Blaine thought of touching himself after he came home that night, the realization that Kurt would know was both mortifying and really, really hot.

But around midnight, the second ever phantom orgasm – as Blaine called it – nearly brought him to his knees in the kitchen when he was grabbing a glass of milk before bed. Thankfully, neither of his parents were near enough to wonder why their son clutched the open fridge door for a good three minutes, moaning quietly and gasping for breath.

By the time he got back to his room, his reservations were mostly gone. Kurt was clearly fine with it, his recent act like an open invitation, and Blaine wasn't going to reject it.

Afterwards, Kurt called him, sleepy and clearly blissed out, to say goodnight, and it almost felt like falling asleep together after sex – except for the part where they were an hour away from each other.

For the next few days they took turns surprising each other with orgasms at random intervals, increasingly silly and giddy as they texted or talked afterwards, and it became easier every time until they were finally able to talk about it face to face without averting their eyes and blushing.

"God, I wish I could see you come. I can feel you, which is more than most people will ever get, but god, actually seeing you... it's all I've been able to think about since, you know, that night. Every time I got off this week, it's been to this picture in my head."

It was Tuesday and they were in Blaine's room, and apparently kissing Kurt for the last hour had removed Blaine's filter because he had not planned to say any of this. Out loud.

Well, at least his face had been hidden in the enticing, vulnerable curve of Kurt's neck when his mouth decided to betray him, so he didn't have to actually see his boyfriend's reaction. That is, until a gentle hand under his chin made him look up.

Kurt... didn't look shocked. Tousled and flushed and wide-eyed – but not shocked at all.

"Me too," he breathed, the words settling low in Blaine's belly, a delicious tug of excitement.

"Really?" He felt breathless, lightheaded, and Kurt nodded. "So... maybe we could–"

Kurt kissed him, deep and hungry, but pulled off after mere seconds. "We will. But not today. I have to go in ten minutes, fifteen at the latest. I don't want it to be in a hurry. Next time?"

"Next time." Blaine echoed, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. "Can we still kiss now, though?"

Being together like this – all of their dates, phone calls, experiments, dozens of text messages – was the best; the sweetest part of every day. But it wasn't enough to block out the ache of being apart the rest of the time.

Blaine felt like he was exaggerating, or simply whining, blowing this whole distance thing out of proportion. Plenty of boys at Dalton only saw their girlfriends a few times a week, or even just on the weekends, and it was no big deal. There were other things to fill his time with – classes, friends, the Warblers, his piano lessons and boxing, to name few. His life didn't have to revolve around his boyfriend. Except now that Kurt was back at McKinley, all those other things felt like such a chore – a feeling he'd never had when they'd spent most of their days at Dalton if not together, then at least in each other's vicinity. Now, the distance between them was a constant presence in Blaine's mind. It was distracting.

The separation sickness only made things worse, of course.

In spite of their promises to try and not let it happen again, it did – and not even a week after the first time. Kurt called him on Wednesday, just as Blaine was leaving Warblers practice, to tell him he had a friend-related emergency and wouldn't be able to make it to their date afterall. Blaine barely held in the groan at the news. They were supposed to be alone at his house again, and he'd been giddily excited about it all day, and now the prospect of anything that he hoped might happen behind his closed bedroom door would have to wait until next week at least. Knowing what was in store for tonight only made the disappointment harder.

This time, he was prepared for the awful symptoms, but it didn't make them any more bearable. Kurt called him as soon as he came home around ten, already shivering, and they ended up talking on the phone until two in the morning (which helped a little), and then, at Kurt's bashful suggestion, staying on the phone (thank god for the headsets) – no longer talking as they tested one more way to ease the separation and get some sleep before morning.

Listening to Kurt's soft little moans, and then the high, breathless "Blaine." as he came was the hottest thing ever. And a real orgasm seconds after the channeled one was something his body was not prepared for, judging by the fact that afterwards, he fell asleep so fast it felt like a black out. Well, at least he slept, if only for a few hours.

Nothing could keep him in bed after dawn though, and once a text from Kurt confirmed that Blaine wasn't the only one awake, they decided to make the most of it and meet at a diner halfway between their houses before school. They only had a few minutes together, not even enough to come in and eat breakfast – so they just sat in Blaine's car in the crowded parking lot, sneaking quick, covert touches of each other's marks until they could breathe easier and think clearly. They parted with a short, sweet kiss to start their respective school days, much calmer.

That was two days ago. And now it was the weekend – which was their time, the only chance to spend more than a couple of hours together – and Kurt was bailing on him again.

Yes, Blaine knew of Sam's family predicament already, and he was sympathetic, he really was. And Kurt was an amazing friend, offering to drive Sam around, helping him look for another job, and then babysitting his younger siblings with Quinn – so involved that his own plans fell second. And honestly, it was one of the things Blaine loved about Kurt, this passion he put into everything, be it shopping, performing, or helping his friends.

But the selfish part of him was in a full-fledged rebellion at the thought of a whole long Saturday alone at home, followed by another unbearable night where his body would literally ache for Kurt. It wasn't fair.

He didn't say it out loud, though. It was just that – him being selfish. He shouldn't make a mountain out of a molehill. So he just said it was okay, and found things to do all day while Kurt was too busy to even text, and then he went to bed early without much hope for any rest, and with a short goodnight text to Kurt instead of a call. Which, okay, might have been a little passive aggressive of him.

God, this distance thing was turning him into a terrible person.

To Blaine's surprise, the separation jitters seemed milder this time, and he actually managed to fall asleep after merely an hour of tossing and turning, obsessing whether or not he should call Kurt afterall. Sunday morning found him well-rested, but desperate to get to Lima, and deeply ashamed of his last night's behavior.

It couldn't go on like this. Something had to be done. And he knew exactly what it should be.

The day spent with Kurt and a few of his New Directions friends only deepened his conviction. They went to the mall, and Blaine had never had so much fun clothes-shopping before. He didn't really need new clothes, since he spent most of his time in Dalton uniforms, but... what if it changed? What if he could wear whatever he chose again, anytime he wanted, not just on weekends? And Kurt's expression when he saw Blaine in some of the clothes he picked for him to try on – skinny jeans and colorful shirts, and bowties... Blaine would be very interested to see this expression more often. Like every morning at school, perhaps. Every morning he met Kurt at his locker. At McKinley.

The thought alone was enough to make Blaine's skin tingle with excitement.

The idea had been there, nibbling at his brain, for a few weeks already. Now, it just felt like the right moment had come. It was time.
Blaine spent the drive home rehearsing arguments and speeches in his head. About how the world outside wasn't like Dalton. How he'd needed the safety right after what happened at his old school, but now that he was fine again, it was time to face his demons. How it would surely be better if his parents could save money on the tuition and maybe put it into his college fund, instead.

It all felt very reasonable and mature, not a word about a boyfriend or missing the freedom of being himself and spreading his wings. It should work, right? What problem could his parents have with him transferring to McKinley?

The transfer would take some time, so it was unlikely he would be able to surprise Kurt tomorrow morning, but maybe in a few days? A week, at most? He could even go to Nationals with New Directions if they let him join so late in the year. It would be perfect.

The plan was flawless.

Except the conversation after dinner – while very civilized at first – went nowhere near the way Blaine hoped.

***

Kurt crept down the stairs as fast as he could without risking unnecessary noise, his stomach clenching and heart in full gallop. He made it halfway to the door before his father's voice caught up with him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Shit. They were supposed to be asleep already.

Clearly they weren't, though. Both his dad and Carole were in the kitchen, sitting at the table over cups of... something, and looking expectantly at Kurt. Well, his dad was expectant; Carole just looked concerned. No wonder, he must have been quite a view, considering he'd already showered and done his evening routine before the emotions hit in earnest. His hair was soft and unstyled and his clothes... Kurt took a quick look down at himself. Green pajama pants and a soft red henley, the first thing that fell into his hands when he opened his closet in a hurry. Not the best combination.

His dad was still waiting for an answer, a frown slowly forming on his forehead, so Kurt struggled to sound composed as he spoke. He mostly failed.

"I just... I have to go see Blaine."

The frown only deepened. "You just saw Blaine, what, four hours ago? Listen, buddy, I know you two are close and all, but there are limits. Like sneaking out at night."

Kurt's hands were shaking by now, the foreign feelings pounding in his head, screaming at him to just go already, and he almost sobbed aloud.

"Dad, please. He needs me."

His father's face softened immediately. "Why, what happened? Did he call you? Does he need to be picked up somewhere or–"

"No, no, I don't know, he didn't call, I just... something's wrong, dad, please. Just let me go see him."

"Okay, kid, I'm sorry, but you have to give me more than something's wrong. How do you know?"

His dad patted the stool next to him and Kurt gritted his teeth and came over to perch on the edge. He was desperate to go, but he knew there was no way they would let him without a good explanation. And the only one he could offer... was the truth. It had to come out sooner or later, and now there was no reason to hide it anyway.

Carole was already boiling the water, a packet of chamomile tea waiting on the counter – clearly it didn't escape her how jittery Kurt was. He took a deep breath and started, trying to keep it as short and simple as possible, Blaine's emotions still a mess in his head, making it hard to focus.

"There's this... thing happening lately to some people, where suddenly a kind of... mark appears on their skin. A name. Not just in Lima – everywhere, and no one knows what it means yet."

The look on his dad's face was a picture of disbelief and suspicion, and Kurt's heart sank. If he had to go all the way upstairs to get his laptop and show him the articles now–

"Wait, I heard about it." Carole put the cup in front of Kurt. "We got a memo at the hospital a few weeks ago, but I've never seen anyone actually have it."

Oh thank god. Kurt nodded, relieved, and simply pulled down the neck of his henley. Carole gasped. His dad frowned.

"Blaine Anderson, huh?"

"Blaine has a matching one." Kurt said, and winced as a stronger wave of need hit him.

"Matching?"

"He has my name. And I don't know how, but sometimes we can feel each other's emotions through it, that's how I know something's wrong. Can I go now? We'll talk about it more tomorrow, I'll tell you everything I know, just... dad."

His father was silent for a moment – every breath one too many for Kurt – before saying. "Okay, it's a lot to take in all at once. So what is it that you feel now? What do you think happened?"

"I don't know!" Kurt groaned, frustrated. "I can't feel what is wrong, just his emotions when they're strong enough. And I've never felt him from this far away before, so... He was so angry a while ago, and then more and more brokenhearted, and miserable, and I just feel that he really needs me now. Dad, please, can I go?"

His father shook his head slowly, his face apologetic. "Kurt... I don't think it's a good idea."

"What? But I told you... I explained, I need to, dad–" His voice broke, throat clenching.

"Kurt, hear me out. Even if I let you go – then what? It's almost midnight. Would you just knock on the door and ask Blaine's parents to see him? And say what?"

"No, I–"

"No, he'd sneak you in, right? I understand, Kurt. You care and you want to be with him. But I'm not okay with you spending the night in your boyfriend's room."

"But we–"

"I can't yet wrap my head around that thing you're speaking of, but from what you said, it doesn't sound like Blaine is hurt or that anything really bad is going on, right?"

"No, but he needs me!"

"And you can go back to your room and call him. You can even do that video-talking thing if you want. But you're not going to Blaine in the middle of the night, Kurt – not unless there's a real emergency."

Kurt fumed and ground his teeth but he knew it was no use protesting. If he put aside the emotional storm in his head – which was starting to calm down now, anyway – he had to reluctantly admit his father was probably kind of right. Knowing that Blaine was upset, that he needed Kurt, and not being able to be by his side in a heartbeat was torture, but he couldn't really blame his dad for saying no to his staying at Blaine's overnight. And they both had school in the morning. And okay, if he were honest, he was probably too jittery and unfocused to drive safely anyway.

It didn't stop him from storming out of the kitchen.

Blaine picked up on the first ring. He sounded a little stuffed up, like he might have been crying, and Kurt's heart ached.

"Hey, baby. Are you alright? What happened there?"

"Oh. So you felt." It wasn't a question, just a resigned statement.

"I did, even all the way over here. I was halfway out the door but my dad stopped me."

Blaine exhaled shakily. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad he did. It wouldn't be a good idea for you to come here right now."

His voiced sounded off in a way Kurt had never heard before, and a sudden shot of fear ran through him. This time, he wasn't sure if it was Blaine's, or his own.

"Why not? What's wrong?" He must have sounded at least a little panicked because Blaine hurried to calm him down.

"No, don't worry. I'm fine, just... I had a fight with my parents. They're still up and arguing downstairs, and if you turned up in the middle of this, it would be the worst thing possible."

"Oh." Suddenly, Kurt felt kind of stupid. In all of his guesses about what was wrong, he hadn't thought of this. "What happened?"

"I... told them about us."

"Oh. I thought you didn't want to tell them, not yet at least." They'd talked about it, and it stung a little, but Kurt understood. And now–

"I didn't. We were talking about something else, just a rational discussion, or so I thought, and then they said some things and it got emotional and I... I snapped. I got angry and I snapped, and of course I only made matters worse." Blaine took a shaky breath, his voice coming out choked when he spoke again. "God, Kurt, I never wanted to tell them like this. I knew they wouldn't be half as accepting as your family but at least I wanted to do it on my own terms, because you and me, it's something beautiful. Something that I'm proud of, that makes me happy. And the way it came out tonight... I'm so sorry, Kurt. I wish I had kept my mouth shut."

Kurt curled up on the bed the way he wanted to curl safely, protectively against Blaine.

"Hey, no, shh, it's okay. They would learn sooner or later, and whatever they think or say, it doesn't change anything. I love you, and what we have is special. Nothing can change that."

He could hear sheets rustling on the other end. "I know. I love you too, I just wish they could see how happy it makes me to have you in my life. Isn't it what they should care about? Not the gender of the person I love?" Blaine sighed wearily. "God, I wish you could be here. Just so you could hold me, and I could fall asleep with you."

Kurt's heart ached for it. "I know, honey. I want that, too. One day in the future, when we live together–" he broke off, suddenly embarrassed. It was way too early in their relationship to talk about these things – or even admit that he thought about it sometimes.

But then he heard Blaine smile over the phone. "I can't wait." A pause, and then, shyly. "Tell me how you see it."

Kurt took a deep breath, his cheek growing hot against the pillow, but then he closed his eyes and started, quietly.

"Well I don't know about you, but I've been thinking New York, maybe?–"

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 3

2013-02-21T00:15:54Z

The dress rehearsal on Saturday morning goes smoothly. Excitement is thick in the air and everything is in its place, and Blaine's pre-opening night jitters melt away soon enough. He's ready, everything is well-practiced, and even with his virginity still intact he's going to be a great Tony.

And then Rachel comes and ruins his equilibrium in three seconds flat.

"We need to have a real kiss tonight."

Blaine chokes on his water. "Excuse me?"

"I've been thinking about it all night and it's really the only way. Stage kisses are so unprofessional, Blaine, and I need everything to be just perfect! We should kiss for real, instead."

"But –"

She tilts her head and frowns. "Unless it's a problem. I'll understand if you don't want to kiss me, of course."

"No, I do!" Wow, that sounded way too eager. "I mean, I'm okay with that. If you are."

"Of course I am." She smiles. "And with such an attractive co-star? It will be my pleasure. Excellent, we need to let Artie know and run through the scene at least one last time."

A few minutes later Blaine is happy to learn that even with the onslaught of butterflies in his stomach, he's got no problem playing his part expertly. And then that moment comes and –

It's over much too soon, just a few seconds of Rachel's soft lips pressing against his, and he stumbles a little over his next line because this... was not what he's been anticipating all that time.

Of course, when he imagined his first kiss, it wasn't onstage, as part of a play, but still. He feels a fleeting wave of disappointment. Rachel is happy with the scene though, winking when she reminds him to focus on the next lines, so it's all good. And now is not the time to focus on kissing or his pitiful inexperience, anyway.

The opening night is great. Not perfect – of course not, some things only come out during the actual performance, and there are a few details that need to be worked on tomorrow, like this one dance move that Blaine just can't get exactly right. But it was a great show, and he's high on adrenaline and hyped, and yet so, so tired.

There's an after-party at Breadstix and everyone has already gone there as soon as they changed out of their costumes, whooping and laughing, congratulating one another. And Blaine is going too, he's almost out of here – he just needs a moment, a little while to himself first. Now that the auditorium is empty, it's the perfect place. He can practice his failed move and decompress, and think. He thinks best in motion, anyway.

This whole day was overwhelming. The dress rehearsal and opening night alone would be a lot, but with the addition of the kissing it got alarmingly close to the point of too much.

Especially since he's so confused. He touches his lips and wonders – was it a real kiss? Two kisses, in fact, during the dress rehearsal in the morning and then the performance proper? Or was it just acting?

Well, of course it was acting, but... does it count? They felt like real kisses... and yet they didn't. Like they were, somehow, not true. Like stage kisses while they weren't. Though they were, in fact, onstage.

Ugh, really. Why does he obsess about it, anyway? Why isn't he just happy that he got his first kiss from the girl he likes? Terribly overdue by modern standards, but here it is, he isn't a kiss virgin anymore.

So why does he still feel like one?

Blaine huffs out an annoyed breath and tries the move again, frustrated when he fails. He's too tired; he'll have to ask Mike to walk him through it again tomorrow. Just one last attempt and then he'll go. Maybe Rachel has decided to go to the party after all – she was considering it, he knows. Maybe he'll find her there. Maybe, if he's really, really lucky, she'll even kiss him again, for real, and then he'll stop obsessing.

Yeah, like that would ever happen.

He doesn't hear the footsteps, even in the complete silence of the empty auditorium. It's only the quiet, familiar "Hey" that gets through the fog of his thoughts, and Blaine turns, surprised. He's been sure everyone was long gone. And yet, just a few feet away, alone and contrasting starkly against the backdrop of the black curtain, there he is – Kurt.

He looks more casual than Blaine has ever seen him, in skinny jeans that fit him perfectly, a clingy white henley and a vest. He's gorgeous, and Blaine's breath stutters a little because of just how much he feels. It's probably the result of being so exhausted and overwhelmed, but it has never hit him quite so hard just how attractive Kurt is. How attracted Blaine is to him, physically. But he has no more energy to analyze that on top of everything else right now.

Kurt's smile is gentle, a little shy even though they seemed to be long past this point by now.

"Shouldn't you be celebrating, Blaine?" Something in the way Kurt pronounces his name makes it sound soft around the edges, almost tender, and Blaine wants to hear him say it again. And again.

"I'm going over this move. I messed it up tonight. I know I can do it better."

"Personally, I think both of you guys were perfect." Kurt's hands are in his pockets, his head tilted, and he makes Blaine's heart speed up even when not looking at him.

"Thank you. Rachel is a natural born star."

Kurt takes two, three slow steps forward until Blaine is looking right into his eyes – so close, so sincere, the blue of his irises tinted green in the dimmed light.

"I know. But so are you. You've got so much talent, such passion. I've seen it earlier, but tonight... it took my breath away." It's so quiet, almost a whisper in the heated air between them. With a bit of hesitation, Kurt raises his hand to lay it on Blaine's shoulder, light as a hummingbird ready to fly away at the first sign of distress. "I had to come back and tell you. You need to know how good you are."

"Thank you."

Blaine can't help his eyes flicking to Kurt's lips, pink and so close. With all this thinking about kissing tonight, it's suddenly hard to look away. Even if it's too obvious. Even if there's no way for Kurt not to notice him staring.

Except Kurt is smiling, just smiling warmly, and when Blaine looks back into his eyes, their calm, open depth feels like an invitation, a permission.

It's not a conscious decision. He just feels himself lean closer, closing the space between them.

Kurt's lips are warm and dry, compared with the sticky slide of Rachel's lipstick, but so very soft he can't help but press closer. Kurt gives him a second, as if waiting for him to pull away, but then his arms are around Blaine's shoulders, securing him in an embrace that feels sure, yet not forceful – and Kurt kisses back. And it feels–

God, this is what he was expecting to feel today when Rachel first kissed him. This intimacy, this spark, even though it's just a chaste press of lips, sensitive skin brushing against skin. He feels it all the way down to his fingers, so much that he has to curl them into the back of Kurt's vest.

Kurt doesn't try to pull away, he just stays there, kissing him surely yet softly, and it feels only natural for Blaine to part his lips, to brush the very tip of his tongue against the bow of Kurt's upper lip. The thrill when Kurt inhales shakily, granting him access, is immediately intoxicating, and Blaine just wants more.

And more he gets – so much more as they stand on that stage, two boys kissing as if their lives depended on it. They are exploring, sucking on each other's lips ever so gently, tongues sliding against each other, the quiet gasps giving way to sounds that are almost – almost – moans. Kurt's fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of Blaine's neck, where it isn't held by gel, and the drag of his fingernails almost makes Blaine's knees buckle.

He never wants to stop kissing Kurt.

But just then Kurt stops, pulls away, his lips kiss-swollen and eyes dark.

"Will you come home with me?"

Blaine can only nod, eyes wide, still dazed from the kissing. "Okay."

They are kissing again the moment the door to Kurt's attic bedroom closes behind them, and Blaine has enough clarity of mind to think that he's most likely the only one in the whole school who's ever been here, before the heat of Kurt's tongue pressing against the seam of his lips distracts him.

Kurt is bolder here, more open, his usual distance fading away, and if these are first kisses for him too... No, they can't be, he acts way too confident and casual for it to be true. Blaine doesn't believe all the gossip about the Hummelberry siblings that courses through McKinley's hallways, but regardless of who he's been with, Kurt is no innocent angel.

Sure hands slide down Blaine's sides, then up his back as the kisses get more heated, deeper. Kurt's body against Blaine's is lean and firm, close enough to feel every long line and toned muscle, and Blaine is stunned just how not freaked out he is. He's kissing a boy, after a lifetime of being convinced he liked girls. He's kissing Kurt, feeling his broad arms around him and what is almost certainly an erection against his hip, and Blaine is totally, completely okay with it. Just as he's okay with being led towards the large bed in the middle of the room.

He has a chance to have a look around, then. Kurt's room is sparsely furnished, decorated in blues and creams. There are bookcases taking the length of two walls, full to bursting point. The third is a wall of mirrors with sliding door in the middle, probably a closet. A beautiful vanity stands by the end of the bed and a long, black partition painted in oriental patterns divides the bedroom from another part of the room.

Two thick white candles on the bedside tables are the only source of light, and Blaine realizes with a start that they'd already been lit when they entered. But he has no time to contemplate the mystery because then he's sitting on the edge of the bed and Kurt is in his lap, leaning into another kiss.

The candles give a warm cinnamon smell, the half-darkness strengthens the intimate mood and somewhere, quietly, music starts, soft and sweet. Kurt's lips slide down Blaine's neck, his tongue wet and insistent against sensitive skin. It feels so good, so much more intense than Blaine has ever imagined, sparks of pleasure coursing through him and stealing all of his attention. So he doesn't react immediately when he feels the bed dip and someone settle against his back. It's only the soft touch of lips on the nape of his neck when Kurt's tongue is definitely still dancing over his collarbone that shakes Blaine out of the reverie.

His head shoots around, Kurt's soothing Shh, it's okay in his ear, and right there, pressed behind him, is Rachel.

Rachel, with her huge brown eyes and her shiny hair loose around her face. Rachel, her full lips soft and red even without the lipstick, capturing his the moment they're in reach, and Blaine gasps. This is definitely a real kiss, and it's nothing like the ones on stage.

Kurt doesn't stop kissing Blaine's neck, humming against his skin, and soon his hands slide under the hem of Blaine's shirt and up his stomach, to his chest. As if on cue, Rachel's smaller, cool palms touch the bare skin of his back in perfect counterpart. She releases Blaine's mouth, sealing her lips on the crook of his shoulder instead, and immediately Kurt takes over, plunging deep and hungry, feeding the hot ache in Blaine's belly that's been stirring awake from the minute they first kissed.

They never pause, the siblings working in perfect tandem, and Blaine has no idea when he lost his shirt, but then Kurt is pushing him gently to lie down and he realizes that Rachel's heat against his back is gone. She's kneeling by his side, so pretty in a short skirt and a tight red top, and leans down to kiss his lips once again when Kurt lays down by his other side and starts exploring Blaine's chest with curious fingers.

Between Rachel's lips, just as talented as her brother's, and Kurt's tongue flicking around his nipple, Blaine has trouble keeping quiet. After the first helpless moan escapes him, he startles, ready to apologize, but Rachel shakes her head, amused.

"It's okay. We're alone here; let us hear you."

Kurt never stops his exploration, kissing lower and lower, and Blaine shivers. His belly trembles under reverent touches, and Rachel whispers in Blaine's ear, a wave of her perfume surrounding him in a dizzy cloud.

"He's never touched a boy before, you know? You're so special, so exquisite..." She punctuates her words with butterfly kisses to his jaw and neck, and he moans, more from her words than her caresses. That, and Kurt has just started sucking on his hipbone, his face beautifully flushed in the warm candlelight.

"Can I see you, too?" Blaine whispers, to which of them, he doesn't know. He hardly knows anything right now, except the fact that he never, ever wants this to end.

Rachel takes her top off without hesitation, uncovering a black lace bra she looks breathtaking in, and Blaine can't believe he finally gets to see a girl undress, and such a beautiful one. Her belly is flat and firm, and her breasts fill the cups of her bra in a way that makes Blaine's mouth water.

But the second Kurt moves to unbutton his vest and slide his shirt off, he steals all of Blaine's attention.

His chest is toned, baby smooth and fair-skinned, and Blaine's arms reach towards him immediately as he sits back up. They fall into each other, skin against skin, and they both gasp at the contact.

Blaine has no idea how long they kiss. He's riding the wave of pleasure, every nerve ending alight with it wherever his skin touches Kurt's. Rachel's still there, but less involved now, Blaine can only feel her soft against his back, her hands smoothing along his arms every now and then, or tangling in his hair. Once, she tugs his head back, exposing his neck for Kurt to suck on, and a thrill goes through Blaine's veins at the thought that maybe he'll be lucky and a mark will form there, the most exquisite reminder of this evening written into his skin.

And then there's a moment when Kurt's lips move away, leaving Blaine yearning for more, and he opens his eyes, still dazed, only to see Rachel and Kurt, their eyes closed and lips pressed together over his shoulder.

He stops breathing, doesn't dare move or blink, not to waste a second of the picture of these two beautiful, strange creatures kissing. It feels thrilling and forbidden, a taboo, but he doesn't flinch Something so gorgeous can't be wrong, can it?

They stop after a few seconds and turn to look at him, so close, both smiling serenely. Blaine feels like he'd been let in on a huge, precious secret, and he knows he'll never, ever betray it.

Things slow down after that, from hungry and passionate to tender, gentle. Rachel gets up a bit later, leaving Blaine and Kurt still tangled together in the middle of the bed. Kurt is like a cat now, sprawled and leaning into every touch, almost purring.

Rachel moves the black partition, revealing the other half of the attic room, and Blaine's eyes widen – it's pink and feminine, but it's an almost perfect twin of Kurt's bedroom. Kurt turns his head and smiles when he realizes what got Blaine's attention.

"Yes, we share a room. Most of the time." He waves his hand towards the partition, fully open now. He pauses and adds, almost like an afterthought. "We're not blood related, you know."

Blaine isn't sure if it changes anything and rationally he knows he should probably be disturbed by what he witnessed – participated in, in fact – tonight. But rational or not, he just doesn't feel it, and when Kurt's eyes hold his, gauging his reaction, Blaine just smiles and leans back in for some more kisses before he needs to go.

He leaves Rachel and Kurt's house before midnight and goes right home and to bed, telling his parents he's too exhausted to talk about the show tonight. And he is, though it's not the only reason why he wants to close the bedroom door behind him as fast as possible.

Strung tight and thrumming with lingering arousal, Blaine can swear he still feels his skin tingle everywhere Kurt and Rachel touched him. It's as if their hands were still on him, and it's enough to brush his fingers across his exposed chest, catching on a tight bud of a nipple, and his hips are arching up against the sheets, straining for contact. His lips feel raw from kissing – in fact, he feels raw and oversensitive all over, and it takes less than he's believed possible before he's spilling hot and desperate across his hand and belly, memories of the evening in place of his usual fantasies.

He expects to drift off immediately, sated and tired from the whole day, so he's surprised to find himself wide awake long after that. Even with his body heavy with exhaustion, his brain won't stop spinning.

After what happened, would everything change now? Is it a beginning of something more? And if so, how would it work? It's not like they can just enter the school holding hands, even if he ignored the logistics of it. Not only is it a triangle, Rachel and Kurt are siblings, blood-related or not.

Or... was it just a one-time thing? Suddenly he feels silly. Of course. It was probably just that for them, a fun night after the excitement of the show. He shouldn't really expect anything else.

Except... he doesn't want that to be just one time.

And didn't Rachel say that it was the first time Kurt touched another boy? That it made Blaine special?

How should he act tomorrow? How would they act?

It takes a long time to fall asleep.

---

"Kurt? Do you want me to sleep here tonight?"

He blinks, startled out of his dreamlike state, to see Rachel standing by his bed in her bunny PJs. "Mm. Would you mind if I didn't? I kind of... want to be alone."

"No, of course. I thought you would. Just... making sure. So you're okay?"

He smiles at her, this big, uncontained smile of pure joy. "I'm very okay, Rachel. So very okay."

"Okay, then. Goodnight, love."

"Night."

---

CHAPTER PHOTOSETS BY HACHI (click!)

The first kiss

"You took my breath away"

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 2

2013-02-19T23:48:08Z

A/N: Just a quick reminder today: this story is completely AU. It's best not to assume anything about the characters' background or history before diving in.

For more information about this story and the whole project, see chapter 1.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hi, would you mind if I joined you?"

It's Friday afternoon and Blaine is sitting at the Lima Bean with Mike when the unexpected but unmistakable voice hits him right between the eyes. Or, well, ears. He turns slowly, almost afraid to look, and sure enough – gorgeous, with a careful smile, it's Kurt.

It's funny, how many thoughts and realizations can run through one's head in the second or two it takes to smile and nod.

Suddenly Blaine is very aware that he's never seen Kurt in the coffeeshop before, even though he's here almost every day.

He manages to notice how many tables around them are empty, so it isn't like Kurt has nowhere else to sit – which means he came over to them because he wanted to.

His brain also registers the fact that Rachel is nowhere to be seen, which is a first.

He even has time to freak out a little, because he hasn't bothered to style his hair as carefully as he should have after PE, and the cardigan he is wearing today is his favorite, but it has seen better days, and he can feel the tips of his ears getting all hot, which means he is blushing, and Kurt is looking right at him and probably noticing all these things and more, and why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

And then he thanks all the deities he can think of that Mike knows him so well after all these years, because with one look at Blaine's face, he takes control of the situation, keenly aware of what flustered Blaine is capable of.

"Hi, Kurt! Sure, have a seat. Another coffee addict, I see?" Mike takes a sip of his tea with a teasing smile. Blaine glances at the paper cup in Kurt's hand on instinct, takes in the black M on the side – mocha then, right? Not that he'll ever need that knowledge; he just... likes to be informed.

Kurt smiles bashfully as he sits down. "Oh, addict is such a harsh word. I don’t have a problem with caffeine. I have a problem without caffeine." – and they all laugh, the ice breaking. Blaine isn't ready to speak yet, afraid to say something really awkward, but Mike is right there.

"So Kurt, what do you think of West Side Story?" The school musical was just announced yesterday, so the topic is fresh and perfect. "We're both planning to audition, how about you?"

Kurt gives a little shake of his head. "Probably not. Rachel will be trying for the female lead though."

Something excited coils deep in Blaine's chest – he hopes for the role of Tony, and the prospect of maybe acting alongside Rachel's Maria is unexpected and very welcome, and makes him want it even more.

"There's some stiff competition, I heard, but with Rachel's voice... she'd be amazing." He can feel himself blush harder as he says that and there is something in the way Kurt quirks his eyebrow, something curious, almost analytical, even as he nods.

"Yes, she would. I guess we'll see."

The conversation flows easily after that. They stay mostly around the topic of Glee and the upcoming Sectionals – Blaine and Mike fill Kurt in about the clubs they'll be competing against, the Hipsters and the Warblers, and tell him about their experiences last year. Kurt's face is animated and expressive as he talks and laughs at Mike's jokes, but his eyes always come back to Blaine, keen and searching for something that Blaine would gladly give him if he only knew what it is.

All too soon, their cups are empty and Kurt is looking at the clock over the bar, getting up.

"Okay, I need to run – I promised Rachel I'd pick her up from the library. See you on Monday!"

Blaine wants to stop him, ask for his phone number – damn, ask Kurt to have coffee with him again, and bring Rachel, too – and thankfully Kurt is gone before he can open his mouth, because then reality hits him. What's going on with him? Is he really thinking about asking Kurt out – and not just him, asking both of them? Seriously, even if the idea of dating two people at the same time, and siblings at that, wasn't preposterous; even if he had any chance with them at all – even then, Blaine isn't gay. Or even bisexual. Not that it would bother him, he just... never felt like he might be.

Although now, he's not so sure.

He looks at the door where Kurt disappeared, intrigued by his own train of thoughts, until Mike nudges his shoulder with a half-amused, half-curious face. Blaine shrugs, smiles it away. He'll think about it later. Another day, maybe.

Or not. Maybe he'll just see what happens.

---

"Are you sure you don't want to audition, Kurt? It's not too late." Rachel twirls in front of the full-length mirror one last time.

"I'm sure. You look stunning, by the way."

"Of course I do, when have I ever looked less than great in anything you made?" She leans closer to the mirror to make sure her make-up hasn't smudged. "How's Blaine doing?"

Kurt glances through the gap in the backstage curtain again.

"Spectacular. He's killing them with this song. He'll be perfect." A small, private smile; a whisper. "Just... perfect."

---

When the cast is announced a few days later, it's Rachel's Maria opposite Blaine's Tony after all, and as much as Blaine hoped for such a turn of events, it's suddenly nerve-wracking. It's one thing to fantasize about the perfect chemistry onstage (and, when he's feeling brave, off-stage, too), breathtaking performances and standing ovations, and quite another to have hours of rehearsals to face together, with all the mundane, human things – stress and sweat and exhaustion, awkward dance moves and forgotten lines. It's all part of the process of settling into a role; he knows, it's not his first time. But when your partner is somebody you want to impress – someone you've barely exchanged a few sentences with so far – there are traps everywhere.

How close is too close? How to touch her hand when your own is sweaty and gross? And god, stage kisses...

Rachel as an acting partner turns out to be a lot to take. She's nice and professional, but she's also a perfectionist. Focused, calm, in control of her voice, her every move. It feels like she's putting everything into this role, all of her passion, every ounce of her considerable energy. It's scary. And humbling.

They hardly talk during the first rehearsal, apart from reading their lines, learning their marks and moves, and Blaine feels awkward and fumbling, standing opposite her for the first time as Tony. Which is silly – he's a good actor and he knows it, he shouldn't be so self-conscious, but there's this crush he can't seem to shake and it's just... it's a lot to handle.

When they sing together, the tension melts away, if only for a moment, because it's perfect and thrilling in a way singing so often is for Blaine. Their voices blend together beautifully and when they finish Tonight, Coach Beiste has tears in her eyes and Artie is beaming at them, clearly happy about his choices.

And then there's applause from the audience, loud and solitary, and Blaine looks up to see Kurt, sitting in the third row smiling, and immediately the fumbling returns, doubled.

That first rehearsal lasts almost four hours and when Blaine finally gets home and drags his feet up to his room, he's so tired he crashes, ignoring the sweaty clothes and dinner and homework. Keeping up with Rachel's pace is a real challenge.

The next two rehearsals are somewhat easier, though Rachel is still intimidating and Kurt still watches them from his seat in the audience. Blaine knows he's getting better, which makes him feel more at ease; but he also knows he's not his best yet. There's this block that he can't push through, and it's frustrating. He feels self-conscious – under their eyes, aware of their attention and unable to tell what they're thinking. He can't turn it off; it occupies a part of his mind that should really be directed towards the play. Being distracted onstage is a cardinal sin, after all.

The way Rachel looks at him when she acts, though, warm and sweet, the way her hand rests on his gently – it makes him feel as if he is walking on clouds. And yet, he still feels too shy to touch her properly in the scenes where they should come off as intimate, even passionate. He needs to work on it.

And fast, as it turns out during the Friday rehearsal.

"Can I be honest? This song is about sexual awakening, as is the whole musical. And while Rachel is the very picture of passionate, Blaine, you just seem... bashful. Can I ask, have you ever actually –"

The end of Artie's question hangs in the still air, unspoken, and in the silence that follows all Blaine can do is pray for the earth to swallow him. He knows, even without looking, that everyone's eyes are focused on him, and he should say something, has to say something –
What can he say when the truth is, he's never even kissed anyone, not really (because a peck on the lips in third grade does not count)?

"I... um... I'm waiting for the right person."

He knows he's flashing about fifty shades of red, stumbling over words, but all he can think of is that two people he kind of likes, a lot, are here, witnessing the most embarrassing moment of his life. He can't really look at either of them, but from the corner of his eye he can see how calm Rachel seems, not moved by the topic in the slightest, and of course she wouldn't be, they came from LA. They must have had plenty of sex there, and here is Blaine, the silly, awkward virgin with his outdated romantic notions, who can't even play experienced convincingly.

Artie clears his throat.

"Blaine, look. As your friend, I support your... strange aversion to fun. But as your director, I am concerned. How do you expect to convey the human experience to an audience when you haven't even opened yourself up to one of humanity's most basic and primal ones? I know you don't have a girlfriend, but I've seen all those girls swooning over you every time you have a solo. I'm sure any one of them would jump at the opportunity to help you here. Maybe you should consider taking the time before opening night and just... enjoying yourself. Call it an acting exercise."

"I –"

What can he actually say to that? When put like this, it makes sense, and maybe it shouldn't be that big a deal, but to him, it kind of is. He's been raised this way, to believe that sex should mean more than just fun, and it's hard for him to imagine being intimate with someone he feels absolutely nothing for. Except, how can he just say it out loud here?

Artie is clearly waiting for some kind of response from him and Rachel looks at him with – Blaine doesn't even know, is it sympathy or pity? Should he just agree, throw his reservations to the wind and do it for the sake of art?

Help comes from the least expected place.

"I'm sorry, Artie, but that's crap. You don't need to have sex to play a sexy experienced guy, just as you don't have to kill anyone to play a murderer." Kurt's voice from the audience is loud and clear. It's the first time Blaine has ever seen him in a confrontation and he sounds so certain and calm, so strong. "I don't think sleeping with a random person just to get it over with is something anyone should feel they need to do. And honestly, Blaine? You are a perfect Tony, you just need to be bolder when it comes to Rachel. She can be overwhelming, I know, but she really likes you, and you like her back. Just let it show."

Blaine sputters over some half-words that fail to make any sense at all, shocked by the turn of events and the fact that his crush is apparently so obvious, but Kurt's face is warm and earnest, and Rachel is nodding and smiling sweetly, and okay, maybe he can do that.

When they try the scene again, he lets go of his reservations, lets go of Blaine entirely and becomes Tony, no holding back. Maria's brown eyes are huge and full of affection, her every move a seduction, every touch a promise, and Tony feels the love and passion, the desire streaming through him, and he gives his all.

Artie's surprise when they take a break is almost comical, and the praise he offers sinks into Blaine's skin like balm. Better still, Kurt applauds louder than ever and Rachel squeezes Blaine's hand, beaming like a little sun. "You were amazing! I'm so glad you are my Tony."

It's not the end of surprises that night.

Rachel and Kurt are waiting outside the auditorium when Blaine leaves, and he blushes to the tips of his ears when they turn to him.

"Hey. You were really good out there tonight." Kurt's voice is warm, laced with a smile, and Blaine's heart stutters a little.

"Thank you. And thank you for..." Don't say defending me, don't say that. "... saying what you said, back there. It meant a lot."

Kurt shrugs and starts walking towards the exit, Rachel and Blaine following. "I'm not particularly fond of people telling other people to change just because they say so. It rubs me the wrong way. You didn't look like you were too eager to jump to it, either."

"No, not really."

They're already outside, where the parking lot is dark and quiet, almost empty at this late hour, and suddenly Blaine is not ready to let this evening end.

"Coffee! Um, I mean... will you go for coffee with me?"

The instant the question leaves his mouth, though, he knows it's all wrong. Rachel's smile freezes a little, and of course, he was only looking at her because Kurt stands to the other side of him, and he meant both of them, and it almost sounded like he was asking her out on a date, and–

"Blaine, I –" she looks apologetic and he fumbles to correct, head whipping left to right to look at them both.

"I mean, all of us. Post-rehearsal coffee. As, you know... friends. Actors. And friends. Yes." God, he shouldn't be allowed to speak to people he's attracted to. His face is burning.

Kurt's laughter sounds like music, light and sweet.

"We'd love to, but we can't. Not tonight at least, it's late and we need to be home soon. But maybe another day?"

Oh. Of course. He'd assumed again.

"I'd like that."

It takes almost a week before they finally manage to get to the coffee shop.

It's been a good rehearsal, no missed marks or forgotten lines for once, the chemistry between Tony and Maria sparking just right, and even the stage kisses finally clicked and look the way they should. Blaine almost bounces off the stage, happy and bubbly, when a small, warm hand grabs his.

"How about that coffee tonight?" Rachel is glowing, the way she always does after a good performance, and Blaine nods with a grin.

"Sure. See you outside in ten?"

They drive together and Blaine is surprised to learn that the siblings don't have a car – they walk to school, or sometimes take a bus. It's not unheard of, but it's still unusual with a good half-hour walk from their neighborhood, and Blaine files it away as another strange thing about them.

The Lima Bean is quite crowded for a Wednesday night, so they squeeze together at a tiny table, their knees bumping underneath. Everything seems brighter and more real somehow, both Rachel and Kurt look eerily beautiful, and Blaine may be a tiny bit infatuated. Not that it's anything new, it's only the intensity of everything tonight that makes him feel like it is.

He's surprised how okay he is, as if he left his awkwardness at home. But then again, they've talked a lot over the last few days, in Glee and in rehearsals, and even twice in the courtyard – short, insubstantial chats about school stuff and Glee stuff and the musical stuff, and now it feels like all the ice is broken and gone, and they're here to have coffee as not-quite-but-almost friends.

There's the obligatory recap and detailed analyzing of the rehearsal – because that's what Rachel does every evening, as Kurt explains, amused – and excited talk about Sectionals, but then the easy, safe topics are all used up and suddenly there's silence that threatens to turns awkward. Or so Blaine fears.

He's underestimated Rachel, though.

"Wow, I like this place. I can't believe I've never been here before, their hot chocolate is amazing."

"Really, not ever?" It's hard to believe; the coffee shop is the favorite meeting place for most of McKinley students. "Where have you been going all this time? For coffee and stuff?"

It's Kurt who answers. "Nowhere. We don't really get out much, apart from school. Our parents are... kind of strict."

Rachel's smile dims for an instant, but then it's back to its hundred watt intensity that looks only slightly forced. Blaine frowns.

"Wow, that... must be tough."

Kurt snorts delicately. "Yeah, well. How about your parents?"

"Oh, they're okay. They are both doctors at the Lima hospital, which means crazy schedules a lot of the time, so I had to learn to be quite independent earlier than most. But as long as my grades are good, I'm basically free to do what I choose. I'm lucky in that regard, I guess."

"Do you have any siblings?" It's Rachel again, openly curious, and soon Blaine is telling them all about his brother Cooper, who is an actor, and then about his ambitions of studying musical theater, about all the instruments he plays and his dream of winning Nationals with New Directions before he graduates, and a dozen other things.

It's only an hour later, when they've parted and Blaine's on his way home, that he realizes he hasn't really learned anything new about Rachel and Kurt at all. He still knows nothing about their personal lives apart from those little bits about their parents and long walks to school. They carefully guided the conversation so that he was the one talking most of the time, and then they had to go, leaving him with warm, buzzing memories of their animated faces and their musical laughter, their comments, sweet or witty, and the accidental brush of their hands over the small table. And while it's plenty more than he's had so far, he really hoped to get to know them better at last.

There are only three busy days left until West Side Story's opening night, but Blaine promises himself that when their schedules clear up a bit, he's taking the siblings for celebratory coffee. And he'll make sure they talk then. Because he may not know much about them, but he does know that he likes them. A lot. And not just in the potentially romantic kind of way – no, he's half-surprised to realize that now that he was allowed to get that much closer, he would genuinely like to be friends with them.

Up close, he can see so much more about them, and he likes what he gets to see. How Rachel's overconfidence is a mask to protect the vulnerable, sensitive girl beneath. How Kurt's dry wit and calm exterior hide his fierce, protective nature. How both of them seem to just get him immediately, on a level most people don't. It feels like they have a weird, wonderful sort of connection – almost like they share a brainwave frequency.

And beyond all that, he can see the one big thing they most likely never wanted him to see: how lonely they are, the two of them alone against the world. By choice or not, it can't be easy.

---

"So what do you think?"

"I think he's sweet. Sweet and shy and earnest, not to mention wildly talented and truly dedicated to music and acting. And really handsome."

"Rach, you know what I mean."

"I know. Yes, I can see why you're enchanted."

"I'm not enchanted."

"Attracted. Interested. Whatever you want to call it. I'm still not sure if he's what you need though."

"Well we won't know until we know, right? But do you think we can –?"

"Yes. Okay, yes. We can try."

"Thank you, Rachel."

"You're very welcome."

---

Visual add-ons by Hachi

West Side Story auditions, backstage (photoset)

Let's Play Pretend - chapter 1

2013-02-18T23:39:05Z

Creators: anxioussquirrel (words) & headbandxbowties (art and video)
Betas/Test readers: nachochang, tchrgleek, sleepdeprivedmind, honeysuckle-pink - THANK YOU!!!

Title from: Pretend by Lights

Pairings: Klaine/Hummelberry/Klaineberry [if you want to ask which one(s) is/are romantic, please don't. spoilers. trust us, you'll see.]
Rating: R
Genre: AU

Warnings: If you squint, there are a few things we could warn about. But we won't, because there's no way not to spoil the story by doing so. It's nothing too hard, but if you are easily triggered or squicked, it might be best not to read this one. Or you can ask (non-anon, and only about specific triggers/squicks, I will only answer yes/no because, you know, spoilers).

Status: complete in 11 parts, 35 000 words
Posting: daily between Monday 18 February and Thursday 28 February, around 6pm EST
Where: tumblr, plus LJ, FF and scarves&coffee [those three will be updated up to an hour after the original posting on tumblr]
Tag to track on tumblr: fic: let's play pretend [check it out, all the pretty content will be there in one place]

Summary: Rachel and Kurt Hummelberry, new transfer students at McKinley High – unapproachable, mysterious, not to mention virtually inseparable. What is their story? What are they hiding? What will it take to get close enough to learn their secrets? Blaine Anderson is dying to know. But if he succeeds, won't he regret it?

A/N: Here we go! We're proud (and a little nervous) to present the project we've been creating together for the last six months. I don't think I've ever worked so hard on a story before, or cursed so much while at it, or edited anything quite so thoroughly (five separate rounds, guys. FIVE.) I hope you enjoy the effect.

A few technical notes: (Almost) every chapter contains bonus visual content by Hachi – it will always be linked at the end of the chapter, and believe me, it's so worth clicking those links. So much pretty hiding there. Also, feel free to come and ask about anything throughout the story – but if on tumblr,please ask off-anon. There are things I won't answer in public.

Okay, I think we're ready. Enjoy the trip :)
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Gossip.

Every high school feeds on it, depends on the steady influx of juicy news to liven up the dull process of learning. William McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio is no different. Be it through the whispers in the corridors and over lunch, the rag of the school newspaper or Jacob Ben Israel's blog, gossip flows through the veins of the student body and keeps it alive.

This week – the first week of Blaine Anderson's junior year – the hottest topic is a couple of new students transferring in from LA. They are immediately fascinating because wow, LA, why would anyone move from LA to Lima? – but it's not the only thing that makes them gossip-worthy.

They're just... different.

Blaine has never cared much about the rumor mill, but by Friday even he can't escape the whispers that spread through the school in waves. The girls from his Glee club won't stop babbling about the new students, spinning more and more fantastic stories. Soon Blaine knows more than he's ever wanted to know about the two strangers, even though he suspects that most of it has nothing to do with facts.

And okay, his curiosity might be minutely piqued.

Their names are Rachel and Kurt Hummelberry. They are siblings – both in the junior class, so probably twins, though they don't look remotely alike. They moved into a neighborhood not far from Blaine's at the beginning of August, and yet no one had really seen them around until the first day of school.

Someone heard they've been homeschooled so far and this is their first time in a normal high school – or even a school in general. Someone else swears they overheard something about a witness protection program, which leads to wild guesses about mafia connections, or the siblings witnessing a murder – or participating in one, because why not, right? That would explain the strange vibe they give off. Something unsettling, some kind of distance they keep, which immediately earns them curious stares and, in some cases, mean comments.

"They don't even try to fit in," Mercedes points out as they all eat lunch at their usual Glee table. "I mean, their clothes? Come on, it's high school, not a country club dinner. I get the dresses, but suits or dress shirts every single day? Plus, have you ever seen them talking to anyone except each other?"

"Maybe they are Siamese twins," Brittany muses, not looking up from her plate. "I saw a program about it once."

"Brit, they're not actually joined at the hip." Artie scoffs.

"Well, no, but maybe they already got separated and can't get used to it. That must be really hard for them."

Indeed, Brittany's theory aside, Blaine has only ever seen the siblings together, be it in the halls or in classes. Even now they are sitting at a small table outside in the courtyard, alone. And it isn't because they have to, he knows. Everyone is curious about them; even the popular crowd would probably take them in, if only to learn about their LA life. But they answer in monosyllables when approached and reject any attempts at befriending without a second glance, as Santana reports with a derisive snort. It's unprecedented. Everyone wants to be popular, right?

Everyone but them, it seems.

A few days later, the rumors hit ridiculous levels.

The Hummelberrys are long-hidden illegitimate children of some LA celebrity. The press got wind of their existence so they were sent away.

They are having an incestuous love affair.

They are going to inherit some huge fortune if they make it to 21 without being assassinated – so of course they won't interact with mere mortals. Plus, it's not like they can trust anyone.

It's so crazy that Blaine starts to suspect Jacob Ben Israel is running some kind of contest for the most insane speculations.

And really, once he takes a moment to actually watch the siblings for a bit – he has a free period and they are seated conveniently close to him in the library – they look pretty normal to him. Just a couple of transfer kids who haven't adapted to their new school yet, nothing like the freaks the gossip is making them out to be.

Except... maybe there is something to it. Maybe they are some sort of magical creatures, in fact, because once Blaine starts looking... he just can't seem to stop. It's as if he's suddenly unable to control himself.

They are both attractive, he has to admit. It takes him by surprise, because while Rachel's prettiness is obvious, he's never actually looked at a boy before and thought Wow. He's stunning. But then, Kurt is unlike any other boy Blaine has ever met – graceful and perfectly put together, almost eerily beautiful. There's something ethereal about him – about both of them; with just a tiny bit of characterization they could be elves, or maybe faeries. He can't stop thinking how much more beautiful they would be if they smiled. They never do, or at least he'd never seen it.

Okay, enough, he decides an hour later, leaving the library. He's already given them enough time and attention. It's time to get them out of his mind before he gets as obsessed with them as half the school seems to be.

By next Friday Blaine can no longer fool himself – it's too late, he's already under their spell.

Every time the siblings pass him in the crowded corridors, he can't stop himself from watching them. And not just because Rachel has fantastic legs and those knee-highs she likes to wear are all kinds of sexy.

Something about the Hummelberrys pulls him in, demands his attention. So he keeps looking, whenever he can – wondering if he's crossed the line of being creepy already, hoping he hasn't. Promising himself he'd stop soon.

It's not that easy.

A month into the school year, the general consensus about the new kids is that whatever their story, they are stuck up, acting like they are better than everyone else in Lima. People no longer try to talk to them, and there's only an occasional stare when they do something strange, like walk the halls with their arms linked. It keeps the rumors alive, of course, their weird, constant closeness. But maybe that's just the LA way.

Blaine and his Glee club friends have bigger problems than unsociable new students, anyway.

Once again, there are too few of them for the competitions. The flyers have been hanging all over the school for days, they even performed Empire State Of Mind in the courtyard and yet no one has as much as asked about joining. They plow on, like they always do, but they need to get at least two more people to join soon, or they are doomed. If they don't compete this year – and get to Nationals, if not win – it will be the end of New Directions, once and for all. Principal Figgins made sure to warn them about that. Twice.

So when the Hummelberry siblings simply turn up in the choir room one day in late September, Mr. Schue almost forgets about an audition in his excitement. One look at the doubtful faces all around the room, however, and he asks timidly if they have maybe prepared something – anything – to show their skills. Of course, it's nothing but a formality. The club just needs two more members, if only to sway rhythmically in the background and move their lips in sync. And considering how little interest in any clubs or basic human interaction Rachel and Kurt have shown so far, even Blaine secretly doubts they can offer much more than that.

Blaine watches them – not feeling like a stalker for once, which is nice – as they talk to the band and settle on high stools next to each other. Of course they are going to sing together.

They look as graceful and elegant as always – Kurt in a silver suit, Rachel in a simple sailor-style blouse and a black skirt – but what sticks out to Blaine is how composed they are, how relaxed as they sit in front of their little audience, their postures a mirror reflection of each other, and wait for the music to start. There's no hint of nerves in their demeanor at all, which makes him think they are either complete novices who think highly of their abilities because no one has ever told them otherwise, or they really know what they're doing.

And then they start to sing and oh, do they know what they're doing.

It's a duet of Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy, which may just as well have been written for them because they give Barbra Streisand and Judy Garland a run for their money. Their voices are amazing – both strong and pure, effortlessly sliding over the notes and merging perfectly together. And they look so radiant when they sing. It's immediately obvious that they are no strangers to performing – and Blaine would know; he isn't either. Voices like theirs – it's more than just talent; it's years of practice, too.

It's absolutely clear to everyone that not only did they just find two new members for their Glee club. They may have actually found two new lead members for their Glee club, and Blaine knows he'll be happy to share the spotlight. Even Mercedes, their strongest female voice so far, looks stunned when Rachel belts out her high notes, and when Kurt effortlessly joins her there, everyone stares in shock because that just shouldn't be possible. Mr. Schue looks like he's going to cry with happiness.

They get accepted with open arms, of course. And if Blaine is ecstatic about it, well... he wants nothing but the best for the club, okay?

Days go by and the Hummelberrys are right there, among them, and up close, they don't seem quite that distant or strange anymore. They still always sit together and don't talk much, but it feels as if they lowered their defenses somehow. They smile sometimes (and yes, they are both so much more beautiful when they do), and watch the usual banter and drama with curious eyes, and Blaine's fascination that has only just begun to fade flares back to life with a vengeance.

A few weeks later it's hard to imagine New Directions without Rachel and Kurt anymore. Their singing contributions are most noticeable, of course, but their dancing isn't bad, either, and they even talk a little more, if only about the Glee club and school matters, staying extremely private beyond that. They prove that they're both just as spectacular solo as they are together. They no longer seem so aloof, at least not in the choir room, and most of the discomfort that the rest of the club initially felt around them is gone. They are just two more Glee kids, unique and different in their own ways. Somehow their quirks make them fit the group rather than alienate them further. After all, New Directions consists of people who stand out, one way or another.

They aren't automatically liked by everyone, of course – there's still something in them that keeps people from getting too close, and frankly, their attitude can be a little grating at times. Maybe it's how calm and certain of their abilities they are, or how they sometimes exchange those looks, as if they knew better, knew more; as if the choice of the Sectionals songs was such an unimportant detail in the grand scale of life. Which it is, obviously, but come on. Plus, Rachel in particular behaves like a diva sometimes, overenthusiastic and demanding, and it's really hard to like her then.

Still, Blaine's little crush persists and the funny thing is, he isn't even sure whom he's crushing on. It would be natural if he only felt attracted to Rachel, who is a beautiful girl, after all, smart and with a voice to die for – but it's not that easy.

It's like she alone does nothing for him – it's him, too; Kurt. It's them, together. This is new and strange, and another thing that is unsettling about the siblings, but Blaine chooses not to think about it too much. It isn't like he's going to do anything about it. They've never even talked apart from a few fleeting words during practice. He just... he likes to watch them. In the choir room and in class, and sometimes in the hallways. They are like pretty, exotic birds. And if they catch his eye and smile, sometimes – well, it doesn't mean anything.

But they do catch his eye and smile, every so often, and even without words, it feels nice. It feels like some kind of honor because they don't seem to do this for anyone else outside of the choir room. As time goes by, Blaine begins to wait for the opportunity to pass them by the lockers or sit nearby in the courtyard where they always eat their lunch, just to catch the glance of blue or brown of their irises.

It's on one of those occasions, three weeks after they joined Glee club, that he witnesses a somber scene.

The siblings are standing by Kurt's locker before morning classes as Blaine approaches, ready to pass them by, eager to see the twinkle of recognition in Rachel's eyes, the dimple in Kurt's cheek when he returns his smile, almost shyly. But they pay him no attention this time, lost in each other. Kurt holds a crying Rachel, hugs her tight, his eyes stormy and worried, and Blaine's blooming grin fades quickly, substituted by concern. He wants to ask what's wrong, offer help, but he has no idea if it's anything he can help with, or if they would even want him to intrude on their private moment.

He doesn't approach, in the end; doesn't feel like he has a right to. They seem lost in their own little world, even more so than usual. But as Blaine turns to go, Kurt catches his eye, and though he doesn't smile this time, there's something in the sad intensity of his look that shoots right through Blaine's heart, foreign and sharp.

---

Rachel is shaking in Kurt's arms, heaving sobs racking her whole body, and he can only hold her and try to calm her, and promise her everything will be alright even when he knows it's the biggest lie there is. But that's what she needs now, so he plays his role while biting the inside of his cheek, hard, because he can't think about himself now, about what it means for him. They're in it together, but he's the stronger one, he always has been.

Rachel hasn't said a word yet, she's been crying since they left their kitchen after the conversation with their parents – after the ultimatum – and for fuck's sake, did they have to talk about this before school? They have a math test first period, and a whole day of classes to get through, and now Rachel is a broken mess and there's not much Kurt can do about it.

He tries, anyway, pressing her closer and whispering in her ear, ignoring the stares of students milling around.

"Hey, shh. It's gonna be fine. I know it hurts; it hurts me too, but we'll survive. We always survive, Rach, you know that. We can still sing at home like we always have, we don't need Glee for it; it's not the same but we're fabulous anyway. Come on, we'll just tell Mr. Schue during lunch break, and then buy plenty of ice cream on our way home, and have a nice, indulgent evening. We'll do everything you like, I promise, I can even –"

She just cries harder, yet somehow succeeds to get a few words out, wet and raspy.

"Kurt, no, I just –"

Whatever she's trying to say, a new wave of tears cuts her off and Kurt is left racking his brain feverishly in search of another reason.

"Wait, are you worried they won't manage without us? Hey, they'll be fine. With Sam joining and the girl Puck brought last time, they'll be okay, there are enough people to compete now. I know it won't be the same without our voices but it's not like we can do anything, can we? Rach?"

She's looking at him now, shaking her head, her sobs slowly subsiding, and there's so much sorrow in her eyes, so much desperation that it scares him. It's too intense even for her, and Rachel is the very picture of intense on any given day, so that says a lot. She opens her mouth, hesitating, and Kurt has a sudden urge to cover his ears, afraid of what she's going to say.

He doesn't, of course.

"Kurt... I don't want to quit Glee."

"I know, me neither, but–"

"Let's not quit Glee. Please."

She's pleading. Begging, even; her eyes huge and wet. Kurt's heart seems to stop.

"But Rach, it would mean..."

"Yes."

"It would lose us a year. They won't change their mind."

"I know. But... I can't give up on that, on this feeling of being alive. When was the last time you've felt so alive, Kurt?"

He feels like crying. Like screaming, or maybe running away and hiding somewhere. But it wouldn't help, not even a bit, because he can't hide from himself, or from the fact that he knows she's right. He hasn't felt as real as he feels in that Glee club for years, not even when they... Just, not.

But is he ready to give up a year of his life for this?

From across the hall, he catches a flash of wide amber eyes, focused on them. Concerned. It's that boy again, that adorable Glee club boy. Blaine.

There's so little time, and so much Kurt wants to do.

---

Blaine pushes the scene out of his mind as he goes on with his day, squashes out the concern that tries to turn into worry. It doesn't help much though, and by the time Glee practice rolls around, he feels a bit desperate to know if the siblings are okay. He's not sure what he expects to find when he nearly stumbles through the door to the choir room in his hurry, but it's not this.

Rachel and Kurt are in their usual seats, talking quietly – no distress visible on their faces, no sign that anything out of the ordinary happened. Rachel even seems bubblier than usual, bouncing happily as she writes something in a pink-covered notebook. It's as if Blaine imagined the morning scene, made it all up in his head – which he's pretty sure he didn't.

He's still watching them when Kurt looks up, looks right at him and smiles, more open and warm than his usual reserved smile. The next instant Rachel glances between her brother and Blaine, something changing in her face, and then she's smiling at him brightly, too. Suddenly Blaine feels like he's caught, tangled in a net he doesn't even want to try and fight – their beautiful faces, their smiles, their eyes, different yet similarly intense, holding him captive.

It only lasts a few heartbeats before Mr. Schue enters the choir room, shooting new ideas right off the bat, and the siblings turn away. Still, Blaine's head is spinning, his heart full and pounding long afterward, and it's silly when nothing actually happened – nothing, not even a word exchanged between them.

It's just... he can't help but feel like something has just happened. Like something has been decided and it's only a matter of time before... what, he doesn't know. But he thinks he's ready to find out.

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Visuals:

Passing By

The Audition

Let's Play Pretend - teaser #2

2013-02-17T23:33:05Z

LET'S PLAY PRETEND FACT SHEET

Creators: anxioussquirrel (words) & headbandxbowties (art and video)

Title from: Pretend by Lights

Pairings: Klaine/Hummelberry/Klaineberry [if you want to ask which one(s) is/are romantic, please don't. spoilers. trust us, you'll see.]

Rating: R

Genre: AU

Status: complete in 11 parts, 35 000 words

Posting: daily between Monday 18 February and Thursday 28 February, around 6pm EST

Where: tumblr, LJ, FF and scarves&coffee

Summary: Rachel and Kurt Hummelberry, new transfer students at McKinley High – unapproachable, mysterious, not to mention virtually inseparable. What is their story? What are they hiding? What will it take to get close enough to learn their secrets? Blaine Anderson is dying to know. But if he succeeds, won't he regret it?

JOIN US ON MONDAY :)

New story teaser - Let's Play Pretend

2013-02-17T03:21:06Z

Rachel and Kurt Hummelberry, new transfer students at McKinley High – unapproachable, mysterious, not to mention virtually inseparable. What is their story? What are they hiding? What will it take to get close enough to learn their secrets? Blaine Anderson is dying to know. But if he succeeds, won’t he regret it?

An AU tale of mystery, hard choices and complicated relationships written by me, completed with beautiful visual content by headbandxbowties.

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LET'S PLAY PRETEND

Complete in 11 parts. 35 000 words. daily updates.

Posting starts on Monday 18 February

Etched Into My Skin - chapter 13

2013-02-11T13:12:56Z

A/N Oops, how did it grow to be 4500 words?

But it's one of my favorite chapters so far, I admit. I had SO much un writing it! And I'm REALLY curious what you think :D I hope you enjoy!

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CHAPTER 13

The first week apart wasn't even that bad. They texted non-stop, rushed to get together after their respective Glee club practices and talked until they were barely awake every night. Apart from not eating lunch together, or meeting in the mornings for sneaky kisses and hot coffee, it almost felt as if nothing had changed. Well, at least when Blaine managed not to think about the fact that Kurt was miles away instead of right there, in the same building. Which wasn't often. But he did his best.

The second week was harder.

On Tuesday, Kurt had to leave after barely a half hour of their coffee date because he had a History assignment to finish and had to catch up on the recommended reading first. Apparently being enrolled in a different school wasn't enough of an excuse for that particular teacher to grant him an extension.

He looked tired and frazzled on Wednesday, after a night spent hunched over books, so they decided to stay in and watch The Fellowship Of The Ring on Kurt's laptop instead of going out. It felt really nice to just sit on Kurt's bed, with a little mountain of pillows behind them and their sides pressed close together, discussing the visual superiority (or lack thereof) of Legolas over Aragorn. But then Kurt's playful banter grew slower, more slurred, and before the Fellowship even set off to their adventure, Blaine realized that Kurt was asleep. Sitting there with his boyfriend's warm weight against his side, Blaine didn't mind pretending that he was watching the movie while in fact he was focused on Kurt's serene face. But when Mr. Hummel checked in on them and noticed that Kurt was out cold, it felt weird to stay any longer. Reluctantly, Blaine slipped off the bed, put away the laptop, covered Kurt with a blanket and went home, leaving a piece of paper with a little heart doodle on the pillow.

On Thursday, the Warblers council proposed an impromptu performance at a local community center after their rehearsal, and with a heavy heart, Blaine called Kurt and cancelled their date. The attendance was completely voluntary, of course, but he was their lead singer after all, and it didn't feel right to refuse after all those times they'd supported him in song when he'd asked them. Not to mention, some of the Warblers had been noticeably cooler towards him lately and Blaine felt a pressing need to fix it. Make them like him again. So he went and sang and danced, even though he'd much rather be in Lima with Kurt.

The strange feeling started when he got home that night.

At first he thought it was just another incarnation of the well-known monster. He'd been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder a year ago and even though it had improved over time, it had never gone away. He was used to it flaring periodically, always in new creative ways to get under his skin, and he'd learned to deal with it by now, at least most of the time. But this was unlike any anxiety attack he'd ever had.

It started with restlessness. It came in a sweeping wave and kept him unable to focus on his homework or the book he tried to read; even something as undemanding as watching YouTube videos was out of the question because he couldn't sit still for longer than a minute. He kept zoning out, his thoughts always finding a way to get to one ultimate destination: Kurt.

Of course, they hadn't seen each other all day, and barely exchanged a few sentences on the phone, so it was only natural that between his feelings and the connection their marks provided, Blaine couldn't stop thinking of his boyfriend.

Except it didn't end there. By ten p.m. he was cold – despite turning up the heater and putting on additional layers, he felt as if he'd stayed outside on a cold winter night without a jacket. His skin was warm, and not feverishly so, but none of the heat seemed to register inside, his muscles tense and faint tremors running through his body. He tried crawling under a blanket, but couldn't stand staying motionless and quickly resumed the nervous pacing across the room. Was he getting sick? Was it this flu everyone spoke about?

An hour later he was almost certain it must be because his whole body ached – except it wasn't the usual muscle ache brought on by the flu. This felt different, almost like... over-awareness of every bit of skin and muscle and bone. A deep, annoying feeling like something was wrong with all of it, something lacking, an itch that made him want to rub at his skin – or maybe claw at it, he wasn't sure. It was like a pain that didn't really hurt, but didn't let him forget it even for a second.

By this point, he was sure something was wrong with him. He was falling ill and probably should tell his mom because it was clearly getting worse by the hour. Instead he just wanted to find Kurt – find him and cuddle up with him and wait for it to pass. Kurt would make him feel better. Blaine knew he would.

So he curled in the middle of the bed with his phone, shivering and aching and trying to make himself stay still long enough to make a call, and he whimpered as soon as Kurt picked up.

"Kuuurt, I think I'm dying. I feel awful, I don't know if I can manage to come see you tomorrow and I just need you here..."

"Oh, we have to meet tomorrow." Kurt said and Blaine heard his teeth chatter. The immediate worry almost overrode everything else.

"Are you alright? Did I somehow give you whatever I have?"

Kurt huffed out a mirthless laugh. "You could say that. It's the separation sickness, or at least that's what Tina calls it. Apparently with the marks, our bodies don't like to be away from each other for more than twenty-four hours, or they get out of balance or something. So believe me, I know how you feel."

"Wait, that's... a mark-thing?"

"Yeah. Tina says the first few times are the worst, like... the body goes into withdrawal, but it's not dangerous. It feels terrible, but supposedly it's still possible to function."

Blaine groaned. "How? I feel like I'm falling apart. Will it pass when we meet?"

"She says it clears out quickly with renewed contact, and it dulls when the separation is prolonged."

"I don't want to prolong it, can't we just meet now somehow? I'll come to you, just... make it stop."

Kurt let out a pained moan, the sound ripping at Blaine's heart. "I know. Believe me, I had the car keys in my hand ten minutes ago, ready to go to you. But it's late and I don't think either of our parents would be too happy about it. We'll have to survive somehow. Sleep should help, right? And if you can somehow skip Warblers practice tomorrow, we're having a performance at McKinley that I think you may like. Not to mention – god, I want you with me as soon as possible, please don't make me wait till the evening."

"Oh, you bet I'll be there. If I can survive the whole day at school first."

Sleep didn't help, not really. Talking to Kurt seemed to settle the worst of his restlessness, as if his body stopped demanding Blaine had to get up and go look for him, so at least he could go to bed. But he got no real rest that night. He kept waking up after minutes of fitful sleep, still aching and chilly, and it took a lot of effort to fall asleep again, only to repeat the cycle moments later. He was exhausted in the morning, slumped heavily under the weight of the sleepless night. The separation symptoms didn't feel as sharp now in the light of day, but they were still overwhelming, an ever-present discomfort. It was going to be a long day.

A hot shower helped some, but then the whole process of getting ready and driving to school lay before Blaine like a long string of impossibly hard tasks, and even though there was hope on the horizon, it didn't really help all that much, considering he had to crawl across the whole vast desert of his school day to get there.

He approached it just like he did the days when his anxiety was the worst: one step at a time. One minute, one task, one tedious conversation in the hallway.

Being busy and focused on something else helped with the achy emptiness crawling under his skin, but staying busy without getting distracted was nearly impossible. He had a test after lunch that he'd studied for last weekend, and it should have been easy, but his mind kept getting away from him no matter how hard he tried. Time ticked away at a deliriously slow speed, from the beginning of his first class until he could get into his car and drive. It felt like forever, like it would never end – until it did.

Blaine was out of the last class of the day and on his way to the parking lot as soon as the final bell rang. He didn't even stop at his locker – there was no use, not when he had no idea what he might need from there, what homework he had, not even what classes were tomorrow. Everything was Kurt. He had to go, now – now.

He was almost at the door when he very nearly collided with Wes.

"Whoa, Blaine, hey. What's the hurry? Do you need something from your car before practice?"

Blaine groaned, his hand flying up to thread his shaking fingers through his hair – a nervous habit he'd been trying very hard to eliminate because his hair was a total mess when he did that, but even increasing the amount of product didn't help when he had a really bad day. Like today.

"Wes, I'm sorry, I can't... I can't go today, I just... I can't."

He was unable to come up with a decent lie, not when it was so hard to even stand still, his feet trying to get him to run to his car and go at last; he could just look at Wes, his eyes probably a little wild and pleading. Don't ask, please just let me go, don't make me stand here a moment longer. Wes frowned, concerned.

"Are you alright? You don't look too well."

"No. I'm not. I'm sorry Wes, I just..."

"Of course. Go home, get some rest. I hope you feel better by Monday."

He was moving before the Thank you left his mouth; out the door, into the car and off, off – to Lima, to McKinley, to the auditorium where Kurt said he would be.

To Kurt.

They were already onstage when he sneaked into the auditorium, the whole colorful group of New Directions gathered together, so Blaine had no way to give into what his body wanted – no, demanded: find Kurt, touch him, hold him. Make the world right again.

Quietly, he glided closer to the stage and settled in a chair a few rows from the stage to watch just as Rachel appeared. She was talking, but Blaine couldn't care less about her words because he could finally see Kurt at the back of the group, dressed in black and red, twirling a drum stick between his restless fingers.

Just seeing him was enough to ease the ache and send a wonderful wave of warmth all over Blaine's body. It wasn't nearly enough to make him feel okay again, but it helped. And as Kurt moved to the center of the stage and noticed him, Blaine could clearly see the same relief washing through him. He seemed tense and tightly wound before but now his body went loose, though still in control as he straightened and took position.

From the moment the music started, Blaine was mesmerized. He could see that the separation had affected Kurt as well – he was paler than usual, dark circles under his eyes and hair messier than he'd ever seen it before – but somehow all this only added to the strong, raw presence with which he commanded the stage. And then he started the song, his voice low and slightly rough, and Blaine was done for.

He'd never really had a chance to see Kurt like this before, truly in his element. Yes, he'd sung like an angel at Dalton, but here, in his natural environment, his own clothes – his t-shirt said Likes Boys, for god's sake – among his friends that were so diverse and yet so good together, it was a whole new level of breathtaking. And Blaine fell in love with it on the spot – this bold, stunning boy, so unapologetically himself.

Watching Kurt – all of them, really – in action finally made Blaine begin to understand Kurt's longing to come back. He hadn't comprehended it before – he'd supported the idea because it was important for Kurt, but why exactly his boyfriend would want to return to a place where he'd been tormented and bullied was a mystery to him. Now, seeing this unlikely group of friends perform a song that expressed their individuality – and free to do so just for the fun of it – stirred a strange kind of longing in Blaine's chest.

He hadn't felt it in over a year – this independent streak, the need to express his true self, no matter what others said. The uniformity and safe containment of Dalton suited him, helped him breathe easier and calm his inner demons after what had happened at his old school. He'd thought the amount of letting go he enjoyed in singing with the Warblers was enough. Now, however... he was not so sure. Something deep and forgotten was waking up to life again.

***

Kurt was flying down the stairs and into Blaine's waiting arms as soon as the song ended, and the good – right – perfect feeling when their bodies connected in a tight embrace was like nothing else he'd ever experienced. It was like pieces clicking together, like a warm bath after a cold evening, like being exactly where he belonged. It was what perfect happiness must have felt like.

Well, almost perfect. Because there were too many layers between them where Kurt craved skin – he needed direct contact of bodies right now, and so did Blaine if the way his hands were traveling up and down Kurt's bare arms was any indication. But this was not a place to get closer, not when Puck was whooping at them from the stage already, the rest of the group pretending not to watch them, but stealing badly concealed curious glances. Tina smiled at them knowingly.

"Come on." Kurt grabbed his bag and discarded jacket and pulled Blaine by the hand towards the exit. Two of the nearest classrooms were locked, but the next door gave way and they stumbled inside, clinging together as soon as it closed behind them, their bags landing on the floor with a thump.

Blaine's hands were under Kurt's t-shirt immediately, broad and so warm, and he moaned a little at the absolute pleasure of touch. It wasn't even sexual – just the need to be close, skin on skin, finally satisfied after so many hours apart. He tugged at Blaine's uniform shirt with impatient fingers to pull it free of his pants and finally – finally his fingers connected with that one perfect spot over Blaine's hip and –

Yes. That's what he needed, exactly what he yearned for, especially when Blaine followed suit, pushing Kurt's shirt up to cover his mark with his palm.

Kurt could feel his body calm down, wave upon wave of better descending upon him until he felt right again, focused and centered and complete. Only then did they kiss, slow and sweet, a little breathless. Kurt leaned his forehead against Blaine's when they parted, their hands still holding onto skin but less urgent already. It was enough, for now.

"Never again." Blaine groaned against Kurt's lips. "I'm not leaving your side for more than twenty-four hours ever again. It was hell."

Kurt chuckled softly and kissed him. "I know. I don't think we're gonna have much choice about that, though. What about when I go to New York for Nationals? And I'm sure there will be days when we can't meet before that, too – it's only to be expected when we're at different schools."

"Nope." Blaine pouted. "I refuse. How can people live when they have to be apart more often? I can't imagine functioning like this."

Kurt stroked his back with his free hand. "Well, Tina said it's more like a buzz at the back of her mind now, and it's been seven or eight times for them. So I guess it gets better?"

Blaine shuddered, burrowing closer into their embrace, and Kurt smiled and kissed his temple.

"Come on, let's not worry about it right now. We survived our first separation, that's something to celebrate. And we have all afternoon."

Kurt closed the door behind Blaine and leaned against it for a moment with a dopey grin. They'd spent a few perfect hours together, first out at the coffeshop and then here at home. It was surprisingly empty until Carole came back from her shift at the hospital ten minutes ago, making Blaine remember he should probably start on the drive home. And god, it was so good...

He unglued himself from the door and ran back upstairs, hoping to get to his window fast enough to catch one last glimpse of Blaine as he crossed the street to his car.

He was out of luck. The car door was just closing as he pushed the curtain aside, and in the darkness under the large tree where Blaine parked he was unable to catch even a glimpse of his profile. Oh well, he would just watch as Blaine drove away, maybe wave to him in case he looked in his rearview mirror.

Except... he didn't drive away. A full minute passed, and then another, and the car still stood there, dark and immobile. Kurt was just considering calling Blaine to ask if everything was alright when his knees nearly went out from under him as another one of those weird non-orgasms hit him like a freight train.

It took a long while until Kurt removed a fist from his mouth, stopped gasping for air and unfolded himself from the floor. By the time he looked through the window again, Blaine's car was gone.

He was just lazily considering jerking off before dinner because those phantom orgasms, while delightful, always left him with a raging hard-on that was hard to ignore, when something clicked in his head, connection sparking. Blaine's car outside... the state they'd been both in while saying goodbye, after an hour of the most delicious making out imaginable... oh.

Oh.

Was it... could it be... No, surely not? But... it made sense. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made, actually, no matter how much it made him blush. If only he could test his theory somehow–

For the next hour, Kurt was plotting. Or, well, he plotted for ten minutes, and then spent the next fifty wondering if he could go through with it.

He kept his hands firmly away from his pants, even though it meant a certain level of discomfort through dinner. He waited until he received Blaine's text confirming that he'd gotten home safely, then waited some more for him to get settled. And then he shut the door to his room, put on music to keep his family from overhearing, took a deep breath and called.

"So is everything alright with your car?" He started as soon as Blaine greeted him with an enthusiastic hi.

"Um, what? Of course, why?" It was clearly nowhere near any question Blaine was expecting. Good. Kurt needed him a little confused. Even if he felt slightly Machiavellian about it.

"Oh, nothing, I was just looking out the window when you left and noticed it took you a really long time to start the car, you know." He kept his voice innocently curious.

"Wait, you watched me out there?" It sounded almost panicked.

"Well not you, technically, I couldn't see you in the darkness. Just your car. I planned to wave goodbye as you were driving away, but then you weren't and I started to worry..."

Blaine latched onto the worry just like Kurt knew he would.

"Oh, no, Kurt, it was nothing like that. Everything's fine with my car. Everything's fine, period."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I was just... thinking about you."

"You were sitting in your car in front of my house thinking about me?"

Blaine groaned. "Well... I needed a minute. I was trying to get you out of my head before the drive – but... your skin, your mouth, those little sounds that you made... God, you're really distracting, Kurt, you know? You don't want me driving distracted, do you?"

"No, of course not. So... how did you deal with your distractedness?" Kurt let the teasing bleed into his voice. He could practically see Blaine squirm when he spoke.

"Um. I."

"Blaine?"

"I... took care of it?"

"Blaine Anderson, are you saying what I think you're saying?" Kurt put on his best scandalized tone.

Blaine sounded defensive now. "Well I was distracted and unable to sit straight, and this little thing you do with your tongue makes me shiver just thinking about it and... how was I supposed to drive like that, Kurt? But okay, now that you say it... I'm sorry, it was creepy, I wasn't really thinking–"

Kurt laughed brightly, interrupting before Blaine managed to spiral into full-fledged guilt. "No, not creepy, it's alright. I don't mind. I just wanted to get you to tell me."

"You..." Blaine paused, swallowed thickly. "You wanted me to admit that I jerked off in my car. Because you were too hot for me to wait until I was at home."

"Yup. Thank you."

Blaine let out an incredulous sound. "Kurt Hummel. I will never fully understand this complicated mind of yours."

"Oh good, then you won't get bored with me. Okay, get back to your homework, and call me later to say goodnight."

He took his time. In the privacy of the shower, with blissfully hot water drumming against his skin and muffling any stray sounds that may escape him, Kurt let his hand slide down his body and rest exactly where he'd ached for it for hours now. And then he did something he'd never done before: he let himself think of Blaine while he stroked himself slowly – of the plush heaven of his lips, the way his fingers curled and dug in Kurt's skin when his breath picked up, of that helpless little whimper he let out when Kurt pressed him onto the bed this afternoon.

His hand picking up speed and breath hitching, Kurt let himself get even bolder, take one more step. In his head, there were no longer any clothes between his heated skin and Blaine's; they were naked and wanting, and it was Blaine's hand on his cock, making him bite his lip to hold in the moans, making him come–

It was a heroic effort to stay quiet and his whole body was shaking, and he ended up on the floor because his legs were no longer able to support him as he tried to catch his breath coming down from what was surely the most intense orgasm of his life, and wow. Why hadn't he always done it like this?

He didn't give Blaine too much time – assuming he needed any time at all, which was yet to be determined – only as much as Kurt needed to get himself dried off, into his PJs and to bed, in the safe darkness of his room. If he was right, it wasn't a conversation he was quite ready for in the light of day.

Blaine was breathless and dazed when he picked up his phone, and if Kurt had any doubts left at all after their earlier conversation, they just evaporated in a small cloud of steam.

"Hey. Are you alright?"

"Yes. No. I don't... something weird just happened to me and–"

Kurt hummed happily. "I know."

"No, but really... wait. You know?"

"Mhm. For the record, I think this is exactly what I felt when you were in your car earlier tonight."

It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Blaine's voice got squeaky. "Wait, you mean– You were–" He seemed to choke a little on the next words so Kurt decided to be gracious and help him out.

"I was just taking a shower. And... thinking about you." Blaine stayed silent, his breathing fast and erratic in the speaker, so Kurt added, helpfully. "It was a very nice shower."

"Yes, I think I know how nice it was." Blaine said, his voice weak. Then he seemed to shake out of it a little. "Oh my god, Kurt, no, I need to ask. I'm sorry. Did I just... channel your orgasm?"

"Looks like it. It's interesting, isn't it?"

"Interesting is one word to use..." Blaine still seemed dazed, incredulous. "But... why aren't you more freaked out? You don't even seem surprised!"

Right. Here came the hard part. "Well... it wasn't the first time. I've just never connected the dots until tonight."

"It wasn't... Oh god," Blaine sounded like he was going to faint. "When did it start?"

"Let me think... around Christmas?"

Blaine whimpered. "You felt it... every time I've gotten off since Christmas?"

"I don't know. How often do you get off?"

"I can't believe we're having this conversation." Blaine mumbled, then seemed to perk up. "Wait, how come I've never felt that before? You never...?"

"I've never let myself think about you... during. Before."

"Oh. Oh, so you're saying it only transfers when we're thinking of each other?" Blaine was clearly starting to process it. Good.

"It seems so."

"Okay." There was a pause then, and Kurt could almost see the cogwheels in Blaine's head spinning frantically. "Should I... stop thinking of you then?"

Kurt felt his cheeks burn with a sudden blush. "Um... As long as you're reasonably sure I'm not somewhere in public or, I don't know, eating dinner with my family? I don't mind. At all. Do you?"

"God no. Feel free to think about me all you want. It's... insanely hot. Weird, right now, but I'll get over it. And who else gets to feel their boyfriend's orgasm? It may be the best side effect of these marks so far." Blaine was getting bubbly now, excited, and Kurt smiled into his pillow.

He hadn't had time to consider all the implications of this new development yet, but something told him it was going to be a lot of fun.

Etched Into My Skin - chapter 12

2013-02-07T01:40:30Z

A/N: Oh look, another update this week ;) Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments!
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CHAPTER 12

Kurt felt it like a current running through the school.

His senses had been sharpened over the years, fine tuned to detect hostility, tension, everything that so often led to violence, so he was instantly aware of the change in the way some Dalton students looked at him.

He'd never been particularly popular, or even really liked since he'd transferred – he was the new kid; he hadn't earned anything more than neutral acknowledgement yet, maybe tinged with a little curiosity. A few of the more outgoing Warblers, including the council members, had been nice to him from the beginning, but apart from Blaine, everyone mostly left him alone.

And then he and Blaine – the cherished leader, the wildly popular darling of the Warblers – became boyfriends. It swayed the dynamics a little. Many of Blaine's avid supporters and followers (although fans really felt like a better word in some cases) suddenly acted like Kurt's new best friends, his relationship with their idol enough for them to warm up to him. Not that Kurt minded, of course – it was nice to have more people to talk to at school, especially since he and Blaine didn't share any classes.

Some of the Warblers' reactions were the polar opposite, though – a barely concealed dislike, as if it offended them that he just swooped in and snatched the best catch in school. And most of these guys weren't even gay.

But it was just gentle waves in the social pool compared to what happened after Regionals.

Okay, nothing actually happened – everything was so subtle that Kurt doubted most people noticed it at all; Blaine certainly didn't. Dalton was a zero-tolerance school, after all. The students were all classy and polite, at least on school grounds where Kurt saw them. (He always wondered if the attitude carried over when they were at home, too, or if some of them, say, tortured small animals in secret to decompress.) Had it been McKinley, the amount of hostility Kurt detected in the air would lead to a close encounter with a dumpster, or maybe a porta-potty. Because, well, it was all Kurt's fault, wasn't it?

Everyone at Dalton staunchly believed that the Warblers – their pride and joy, the rockstars of the school – deserved to go to Nationals. And the only reason they wouldn't was because – as rumor had it – the judges decided one of their songs was too gay, that they were sending the wrong message to all the good girls and boys everywhere.

And of course, the song was only gay because Kurt sang it with Blaine. Because Blaine demanded a duet for them. Because he was Blaine's boyfriend.

The result didn't seem to be much more than palpable tension around him, and a whispered comment here and there – nothing violent, or threatening. Kurt could live with it – shrug it off, keep to Blaine and their group of Warbler friends – but deep down, it hurt more than he was ready to admit.

One more place he didn't fit in. A safe, tolerant place – and yet.

What did it say about him?

When a chance to transfer was set in front of Kurt like a pardon cancelling his sentence, he didn't have to think too long.

His first reaction was one of joy and relief – but then came the guilt. It wasn't fair of him to think of leaving Dalton so readily; not when it had given him so much, in spite of everything – safety and escape, and most of all, Blaine. Sweet, gorgeous, loving Blaine who carried Kurt's name under his clothes, who was in love with him, and always did everything to make him happy. His Blaine, who looked so brokenhearted when Kurt told him about the possibility of transferring back, but quickly covered it with a smile and a hug, and I will support your decision, as long as you're safe whispered into his ear.

Blaine was the only reason Kurt would consider staying at Dalton.

But the arguments supporting the transfer were overwhelming – even if he ignored his own longing after his Glee club friends and how much he wanted to go to New York with them, Kurt knew that his family couldn't really afford Dalton tuition. Every additional month was a financial burden that he could take off their shoulders now that the reason for his leaving McKinley seemed to be gone. The way he never felt welcome at Dalton anymore was just the last straw.

And Blaine understood. Blaine supported him, and encouraged him, and assured him that they would still have afternoons and weekends, that they would be fine. And perhaps this hurt the most – because Kurt could feel Blaine's fear and his misery sometimes, despite the optimistic words. When they were close and he really focused, Kurt could feel the faint echoes of Blaine's emotions, held in check, and yet spiking out of control every now and then. And the awareness that he was causing Blaine pain was much worse than suffering himself.

In a moment of despair, during those few days when he struggled with the decision, Kurt asked Tina for an opinion. He'd finally told her about their marks a week before, and she was the only person he knew who would really understand the dilemma.

But he shouldn't have bothered.

"Of course you should stay at Dalton. Your place is by your soulmate's side, Kurt." Tina said with a firm conviction that ruffled Kurt's feathers immediately.

"Okay, first of all, no one has confirmed the marks really mean soulmates." She rolled her eyes, but Kurt held up his hand to stop her from interrupting. "And second of all, do you think I want to be away from him? But if we're destined to be together, we will survive no matter what, right? And it's not like we won't be able to see each other. Maybe not every day but–"

He swallowed, the thought making him feel a little dizzy. Since they'd become boyfriends, they hadn't spent a single day without seeing each other.

"I don't know why you're asking me when you've clearly made your decision already." She huffed. "Do what you have to do. But it will hurt, you know."

Kurt groaned. "Of course it will. Do you think I don't know that?"

"No, Kurt, I mean literally. Mike goes away with his parents two weekends a month. And it hurts. It physically hurts when you can't be close to your soulmate. You'll see."

Oh great. Like it wasn't going to be hard enough.

***

There were moments when Blaine felt like he was drowning.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen it coming. From the moment he saw the longing in Kurt's eyes at the Night of Neglect concert, he'd known deep down that Kurt would return to McKinley. He just never expected it to happen so soon, right in the middle of this newfound, delirious happiness – and it felt like the ground went out from under him.

But Kurt's eyes were shining, his excitement radiating out of him at the thought of rejoining his friends, and in the end that was what counted. As long as it was safe for him back at McKinley, Blaine would support anything that made his boyfriend that happy. If it was safe.

He had his doubts.

He didn't trust Karofsky, not one bit. He didn't believe in his sudden change of heart, and didn't share Kurt's belief that Santana will be able to keep him in check. Frankly, he didn't want Karofsky in the same town as Kurt, let alone the same building, and the thought of them actually interacting literally made him see red. So he tried very hard not to think about it with Kurt around – he wasn't sure how this whole emotions-sharing worked, but he couldn't risk Kurt picking up on one of his worse moments. Blaine was supposed to support him, not make this harder for him. And since he couldn't, say, eliminate Karofsky somehow, he had to trust Kurt's judgment and send him on his way. Let him go.

Kurt seemed surprised when Blaine didn't argue the matter. But Blaine knew it was no use, so he simply focused on making as many happy memories as he could in the too-short moments they had together that week. They talked, they sang, they laughed. They kissed whenever they could get away with it, the urgency palpable now that the separation, even if unspoken, was imminent. A few times during the week Kurt gave him that look, as if he was trying to see through him, and Blaine felt momentarily bad for hiding his feelings. But what was the point of letting out the hurt and fear, of telling Kurt about the anxiety that seemed to always sit there now, at the bottom of his stomach? It would only make him feel worse about transferring, and Blaine couldn't do that to him.

And then it was Friday evening after everything was decided, and they were in Kurt's bedroom, the door open and his family downstairs. Kurt's face was paler than usual, his eyes too shiny, and he was holding onto Blaine's hand like a lifeline.

"God, I know it's the right thing to do, the only rational decision – I know that. So why does it feel like I'm doing something awful and unforgivable?"

So stay. Stay with me. Blaine didn't let the words slip out of his mouth, only squeezed Kurt's hand and pulled him into a hug, gathering him close against his shoulder, a familiar, comforting presence. He didn't trust his voice yet. He felt Kurt shake against him, a quiet sob muffled by his blazer, and tears stung his own eyes, unwelcome. Not yet.

"Hey, you'll be fine. We will be fine." He whispered into Kurt's neck, his voice choked. "We'll see each other every afternoon and spend every weekend together. It's not that far. We'll make it work. It will be alright, Kurt, I love you, it will be alright."

Kurt shook harder and nodded with his face still hidden in the crook of Blaine's neck. His voice was muffled when he spoke. "I love you too. So much."

They sat like this for a long while, just holding each other, drawing comfort from being so close. At some point, Kurt's hand found its way under Blaine's shirt and, blindly, to his mark, and Blaine mirrored his move without thinking. Popping open the top buttons of Kurt's uniform shirt for the last time – the last day of him wearing that uniform – he slipped his fingers there, to find where his name lay, safe and more constant than the life around them. It felt good, reassuring. Grounding.

They had the weekend before them with a lot of time planned together. Even after Kurt went back to McKinley on Monday, they would still be boyfriends, still meet and go on dates, and hang out whenever they could. Blaine knew he would work hard for them to stay close, and he never doubted that Kurt would, too.

But it wouldn't be the same. No matter how much he wanted to believe that they would survive this, life was life. He's seen relationships fail because of distance, even a short one. And he knew that sooner or later, life would get in the way, with extracurriculars and homework and other friends. They would call off one date, then another – and then who knew, really? Sometimes love and dedication weren't enough.

A soft knock on the open door shook them out of the moment. Kurt's stepmother was standing in the doorway.

"Boys? It's dinner time." They parted reluctantly, Kurt's eyes red-rimmed as he tried to compose himself. His stepmother smiled at them softly. "Blaine, will you stay and eat with us?"

He startled, eyebrows shooting up. "But I thought it was family night, I don't want to impose–"

"It is. And you're invited to stay if you want to, if your parents won't mind."

By his side, Kurt gasped softly, his face stunned. Blaine remembered his manners. "They won't. And I'll be delighted to stay, thank you."

Dinner was lovely and not at all awkward like Blaine feared it might be. The only uncomfortable moment came when Finn grumbled about his girlfriends never being invited for Friday dinners, but Kurt's eye roll and his curious question about who the girlfriend was this week quickly dissolved the momentary tension as Finn launched into a monologue about his dating life. It seemed complicated.

Blaine stayed for a movie afterwards, the opportunity to spend some more time with Kurt too tempting to resist. The novelty of sitting close together, holding hands, with Kurt's family right there and so accepting of him was new and intoxicating. When Kurt cuddled into his side and put his head on Blaine's shoulder, it made all of his worries melt away, if only for a while. Kurt's father's Come over anytime you want as Blaine was saying goodbye only strengthened the good feeling.

Not for long, though.

An hour alone in his car on the dark empty road home with only the music for company was enough to seep the warm happiness right out of Blaine's mind. By the time he got up to his room, his heart was heavy, this whole week of suppressing his emotions crashing down on him until he was a miserable sobbing mess, facedown on the bed.

It wasn't fair.

Finding Kurt, getting together at last, tasting happiness like he hadn't known before only to lose it now felt like unnecessary cruelty. He didn't want to lose it.

No. He refused to give it up.

So... what could he do?

Tears spent, he flipped on the bed and stared at the ceiling, ideas slowly forming in his head.

Convincing his friends to skip classes in favor of visiting McKinley and helping him serenade Kurt turned out to be surprisingly difficult. Organizing an impromptu practice on Sunday wasn't easy either. In the end, it was only about half of the Warblers that decided to accompany him, and they were all going to be in so much trouble...

But Kurt's stunned, delighted face, and his whispered promise, I'll never say goodbye to you, made it all worth it. One last glance at him, surrounded by friends, bold and unique, and so happy – and Blaine's heart was overflowing, brimming with love and gratefulness. He was lucky to have this amazing boy in his life, and he was going to do anything he needed to keep it that way.

Anything.