Still Awkward but Seriously Great - 1/1 Kurt/Blaine Mature
So this is another story about Blaine and Kurt. Who both have moms.
It's also my first foray into posting my fic on Tumblr.
This story is set in the same universe as Often Awkward but Kinda Great (over at Livejournal), continuing to examine the development of their relationship with each other, the differences (and similarities) in Hummel and Anderson family dynamics, and the wonderful, awkward, embarrassing, but seriously great wonder of that first serious relationship. And then it took me even longer than the first one to write when I took an extended break to write Harry/Kurt, Blaine/Draco and then Klaine and Drarry humorous crack for a while to blow off steam. Warnings: Complete lack of excessive drama or abuse, teenage boys, blushing, kissing, hand holding, alone time, fear, love, two conspiracies, books and moms. "Do you think you could find me something a little earlier? Five is cutting it so close," Mrs. Anderson says into her cell phone when she opens the door and gestures Kurt inside. "No, just a touch up." When she laughs, she looks like Blaine, Kurt realizes. Or, more correctly, the other way around. "Yes, I'm sure. I have enough change in my life already. I'll see you then. Bye bye." She ends the call and sweeps her curls out of her face. Kurt surreptitiously checks for grays. (It can't hurt to pick up hints as to how his future husband is likely to age.) "It's only a little at the temples," Mrs. Anderson says with equanimity and shows him the wide stripes of gray just visible at the roots. "Right here." "Distinguished," Kurt says, thinking more of Blaine while he does. "I'm too young for distinguished," she admonishes him. "Would you like something to drink? Blaine won't be home for another half hour. Traffic," she says, and Kurt finds himself wishing she'd said that first so he could...pick up coffee or something. "That's alright," Kurt says and wraps his hands around the strap of his bag for something to do with them. "So...do you dye your hair often?" He fills the silence with the first thing that comes to mind and regrets it immediately. "As often as it takes," she says, and Kurt can't decide if she's angry at him or not. It makes him nervous. Fortunately, his fallback when nervous is utter fabulousness. "I don't mean to pry. But your hair is in amazing condition for being processed. What is your secret?" "Avocado." She leads him to the kitchen and pours two glasses of iced tea, ignoring his polite (he hopes) refusal. "You should encourage Blaine to try it," she says after a moderately awkward moment. "Putting it in his hair," Kurt says for the sake of clarification, because it never hurts to be 100% sure before mashing guacamole into your boyfriend's hair. "Mm hmm." She sips the tea. "Much better for him than an endless cycle of gel and two-in-one shampoo." "Oh, god, I know." Kurt closes his eyes and shudders. "I caught him after his shower at Dalton. Once," he says. "His hair was so nice." He opens his eyes to find Blaine's mom staring at him uncomfortably. "I mean, not caught as in pursued," Kurt says quickly. "And he was dressed at the time." Mostly. And deliciously damp. Thoughts he does not want to be having in front of Blaine's mother. He takes a deep drink of tea, hoping to cool the blush in his cheeks and, maybe, leave room for a change of subject. (Please.) "He had the most beautiful curls as a little boy," she says, eventually. "Why don't you go watch some television while you wait for him? You know where it is." Kurt hesitates. She's smiling, and it looks sincere enough, but he still has an uneasy feeling he's being dismissed. "Thank you for the tea," he says. "Would you like more?" "No, thank you." He flips through channels, looking for something suitably neutral and non-threatening, and eventually gives up and watches Ice Road Truckers. It's the Jay Westgard episode. And he is kind of cute...in a vaguely Canadian way. As television shows go, it's mindless, harmless, and much better than analyzing every word he said to Blaine's mom. He drops his head against the back of the couch. "Hard day at the office, honey?" Blaine asks when he comes in to find Kurt in exactly that position. "No," Kurt says, "Just castigating myself." "Well," Blaine says, dropping his bag and falling onto the couch. "Don't let me interrupt." "It's alright," Kurt assures him. "I was almost done anyway." And honestly, his neck is starting to hurt. He's not even sure why he feels this embarrassed and off balance. He wants to slump against Blaine, and Blaine looks like he wants to pull Kurt against him. He's not sure which one of them glances toward the kitchen first. They smile at each other and Blaine's fingers brush the backs of his. Kurt tangles them together before they let go and turn to the television. It's on commercial. "We're never breaking up," Kurt suddenly informs Blaine. "Not that I disagree, in any way, with that statement," Blaine says, "But...why?" Kurt raises an eyebrow at him, because, really, Blaine? Blaine makes a face at him. "I mean why are you saying so? Right now?" "Because I never," Kurt says to the television, gripping Blaine's hand, "ever, want to go through all these parental firsts again." He glances at Blaine and holds up a finger. "Ever." Blaine slumps back into the couch. "I am so with you," he agrees. "Good." Kurt pulls Blaine's hand into his lap to better toy absently with his fingers when the show comes back from commercial. "Ice Road Truckers?" Blaine reads off the screen. "I watch it with my dad," Kurt says. "Excuse me," Blaine says in an unnecessarily shocked tone of voice. "You?" Kurt shoots him a glance that's supposed to be annoyed (but is probably just fond). "I can have layers." Blaine glances at the kitchen one more time before leaning forward and lowering his voice. "And I love peeling them off," he whispers then laughs and looks away, only peeking back at him. It's adorable, and scary, and makes Kurt breathless all at once, and he suspects Blaine wouldn't have said something like that if they weren't safely somewhere where they're too afraid to even hold hands. But because they are there, Kurt feels perfectly comfortable in raising an eyebrow and very deliberately skimming his eyes up and down Blaine's body. He can hear Blaine swallow when they both turn, blushing, back to the television. "Layers," Kurt says, a little breathlessly. "Yeah," Blaine says. And then, after a while, "Huh. The driver's pretty hot in a kinda...Canadian way. But - " "Hot," Kurt agrees. "I still can't believe a look from you can do that to me," Blaine says into the phone. It's easier to say things like that to Kurt when they're not face to face. "I can't either," Kurt says, and his voice is higher pitched than usual. Blaine doesn't think it's out of embarrassment, though. And while Kurt hasn't admitted to being turned on yet, Blaine thinks he's pretty good these days at recognizing the signs. "I couldn't help looking," he confesses. "You look so...hot in leather. Very James Dean." "Yeah, I seem to remember you saying something about me wearing leather all the time," Blaine says, unable to resist a little preening. (And also making a note that James Dean does it for Kurt.) It's better than the 'Wow, really? I thought I looked like a total poser," option that skips through his mind. "Uh-huh," Kurt says in the tone he uses when he's fanning himself for effect. Blaine grins. "Tell me more about this hotness thing." "I am not having phone sex with you, Blaine." Kurt's voice thuds back into his normal tone, and Blaine can feel his ears turning red. "Maybe phone...making out?" Blaine offers. He wasn't actually going for anything like it, but now that Kurt mentions it, he can't really get it out of his head. He hears Kurt swallow, and then shuffling, and a click. "Okay," Kurt says, breathy again. And, wow, apparently that's all it takes to get Blaine going. "Are you serious?" "I'm moderately terrified and already feeling ridiculous," Kurt says with a little laugh. There's a pause. "But I am serious." Blaine realizes it would be convenient if either of them actually knew what they were doing here. "Wow," he says, because being honest got him this far. "If that's all you've got, I can see I'm feeling nervous for nothing," Kurt says dryly, but Blaine can hear the undercurrent of nerves that hasn't gone anywhere. "I can hear your eyebrow lifting," Blaine says. "You can not," Kurt says, making Blaine want to kiss him. Which, he supposes, is the point of this whole exercise. "I want to kiss your eyebrow." That wasn't what he meant to say. Kurt doesn't answer right away. In fact, he takes long enough to make Blaine begin to worry that was a little out there. Or maybe a lot. Eyebrow kissing is admittedly kind of strange. "Is this some strange fetish?" Kurt asks eventually. Blaine huffs out a breath. "No. We're phone making out, remember?" "And your opening gambit is to kiss my eyebrow." "Kurt," Blaine complains. He can hear the whine in his voice, and he doesn't actually care. "Oh, fine, you eyebrow-kissing freak," Kurt says with more affection than a sentence like that deserves. "Your eyebrow kissing is so strangely charming, I wouldn't be able to resist dragging you down by your hair for a proper kiss." "Tongue?" Blaine asks hopefully before his brain can veto. Kurt actually laughs out loud. "Blaine! You're terrible at this!" It doesn't sting as much as it could, because Blaine is in at least ninety percent agreement with Kurt on this one, and the other ten percent is too horny to care anyway. "Well, it's my first time," Blaine says in his defense. "I've never phone made out with anyone before." And he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a little, um, humiliated seems like too strong a word. But something like that. "I'm glad I'm your first," Kurt says eventually, because he has good instincts that way. Blaine smiles. "Even if I'm terrible at it?" He's so much better at it in his head. Really, he is. Kurt flusters him. "We'll practice," Kurt promises. "You'll be knocking my socks off by the time school starts next month." "And you say I'm bad at this," Blaine challenges. Kurt actually hmphs at him. "Well I'm new to this, too. And I didn't go kissing your eyebrow." That seems to stymie both of them, as far as further conversation goes. Eventually, Blaine rises to the task. "What would you have done?" he asks. There's silence. He hopes Kurt is using it to think about his answer. Because otherwise, this is sort of dead in the water. "Rubbed my cheek against yours," Kurt finally says, and as he says it, Blaine can almost feel it. And it is such a good idea. "I'd like that," he breathes, and suddenly, it's not so awkward after all. "I probably wouldn't be able to resist turning my head to kiss you." "Tongue?" Kurt teases. Okay, only slightly awkward. "Did I mention you're bad at this?" Kurt laughs. "Okay, okay. I'll be serious." "No, don't." Blaine feels a little shy saying, "I think the laughter is part of it." What Kurt hasn't told Blaine, and has spent weeks trying to figure out how to tell Blaine, is that the idea of phone sex. Or any sex, really. With Blaine. Is something he's spent a lot more time thinking about since school ended. A lot of conflicted, guilty, wonderful, terrifying time behind locked doors while nobody's home, with the music turned up just in case. Time he should have spent writing Pip Pip Hooray, which just seemed less and less appealing to get back to every time he got distracted. Under the circumstances, he thinks he can be excused from looking into Blaine's eyes when Blaine apologizes again for pushing him into attempted phone making out. "Blaine," he says, focusing on Blaine's utterly adorable pink bow tie in an effort to keep his blush to a minimum, "I had a good time." "You said I was bad at it," Blaine points out, and it's times like this when Kurt is reassured that they're both nervous teenage boys. "You said I was bad at it, too," Kurt says. "I was joking when I said that." Blaine's fingers curl around his. "It was kind of bordering on awesome for a while, there." Kurt can't resist flicking his eyes up to catch the expression on Blaine's face. He finds him blushing and bright-eyed and can't look away. He can't resist a smile, either. "It was, wasn't it?" Blaine laughs and covers his face. "What kind of teenager gets like this over making out on the phone?" "Almost making out on the phone," Kurt corrects him. "And, teenagers who never expected to have this," he gestures between them, "in high school." He looks down at their hands. "I never expected to have this at all. In college, it's so much more..." "Pressure," Blaine says with a certainty Kurt didn't expect, and even though it's not the word Kurt had been looking for, he says: "Yes. And...impersonal, maybe." It's as close as he can bring himself to admitting that college, in his imagination, was less about fingers touching, and more about following a lead to get where you want to go or else going without. He also doesn't say how nervous it made him when he thought about it. "I don't think it should ever be impersonal," Blaine says with complete seriousness. "It shouldn't, no." Kurt sweeps his thumb over Blaine's. "I don't know how much of college is about self-respect and how much is about doing what everyone else is doing." "Kurt Hummel would never do anything he didn't want to just because everyone else was," Blaine says with confidence that shames Kurt a little bit. "He might have," Kurt admits in a small voice, "if he was lonely enough." "Never," Blaine insists and gives his hands a squeeze. And Kurt falls more in love with him right then and there. "And he won't have to," Blaine says in a sing-songy voice, "because he'll still be dating his High School sweetheart, who is very very possessive." "Oh, is he?" Kurt laughs, feeling better already. "Very," Blaine says with exaggerated emphasis. "And what, exactly, would you do if some big gorilla was coming on to me and you didn't like it?" Kurt asks, because he is a little curious about that point. "Honestly?" Blaine asks. "I'd probably sing something." He holds up a hand when Kurt's eyebrows go up (because Blaine really would) and continues, "and it would be so awesome that everyone in earshot would be on our side, and he wouldn't stand a chance." Kurt lets go and laughs at that, because, really. "I'm glad you have a plan in place." The truth of the matter is that when Blaine thinks about a two hundred and fifty pound gorilla coming on to Kurt, he just feels incredibly insecure. He wasn't prepared for the amount of insecurity being in a relationship would bring to the table. Wasn't it supposed to make him feel more confident, more wanted, and on top of the world? Not that he doesn't feel wanted, confident, and top of the world, but he wants to keep feeling that way so badly, it scares him. Which leads to stupid amounts of re-thinking and over-thinking and second-guessing and crazily timing his boyfriend's visits when he's as sure as he can get that his parents won't be around. Which is how he came to be here, trying not to be obvious while he's staring at the clock and not eating breakfast. "If you guys don't get going soon, you're gonna be late," Blaine says in what he hopes is a completely helpful tone of voice. (Even if he suspects it's kind of whiny.) "Blaine," his dad says, and Blaine hates that that's all he has to say to make Blaine feel like less of a man. "Sue me for trying to be helpful," he mutters under his breath, then shuts up, picking up his coffee. His parents pretend not to hear, but Blaine doesn't miss the look they give each other across the table. "So, is Kurt coming over?" his mom asks. Blaine does not choke on his coffee (even if he burns his tongue a little). It's so out of the blue, he doesn't know what the right answer is. "We talked about him coming over," Blaine says, trying to make it sound like it's not a firm commitment. (It is.) "If he does, we'd like you to stay out of the bedroom," his mom says while his dad pretends that the conversation isn't happening and turns a page in his newspaper. And while a hot flush spreads down Blaine's cheeks and neck. "Mom." He's really not ready for the implications there. At least, not from his mom. "Those are the house rules when you have your boyfriend over and we're not here to supervise." She pours herself a second cup of coffee. He bites back the urge to point out how stupid the rule is, because if he and Kurt were going to have sex (which they are not - yet), he's pretty sure lack of a bed wouldn't stop them. He pushes down the unpleasant twisting feeling in his stomach and takes another drink of coffee. "Fine." He's aware of his dad looking at him over the edge of the paper, and it's a look Blaine can't quite read. That makes him nervous, and he'd like to ask his dad to stop looking at him like that, but he's not five years old anymore, so he doesn't. "Can I have the Lifestyle section?" The look doesn't get any more approving, and Blaine forces a smile while he takes the paper, because suddenly it feels like forever before he'll be able to get out of here and breathe again. He flips to the Style page and stares at it without reading. "Are you sure this is what you want?" His dad asks. Again. Blaine's knee is bouncing under the table. "As sure as I was yesterday and the day before, and the day before that, too, dad." Because sassing your dad is always a good idea. He winces and hides behind the newspaper. "I don't ask that often," his dad says. "And I think it's my prerogative as your father to make sure you're not getting yourself in too deep." Blaine feels himself flushing, but he refuses to be the first one to leave the table. "Isn't it my prerogative as a teenager to get in too deep on my own?" "Not when the stakes are this high." His dad has put down the paper, and they're staring at each other over the top of the Style section. Blaine really wants to answer, but his throat feels too tight, and his eyes burn. He doesn't even want to know exactly what his dad is implying here. He shrugs and hunches behind the paper. "We're just looking out for you," his dad insists. He feels his mom's hand on his wrist. "But as long as Kurt makes you happy, honey, we're happy for you, too." Blaine doesn't look at his dad, because he's pretty sure his mom is just using the royal 'We' here. He nods. "More coffee, Blaine? Grady?" "I think I've had enough." Blaine's dad pushes away from the table and stands. "We should hit the road. Blaine, can we count on you for the dishes?" Blaine nods again at the paper. His dad rests a hand on his shoulder as he goes past and gives it a squeeze. And as soon as they leave the room, Blaine drops his head onto his folded arms and laughs. It's not really funny. "Going to Blaine's today?" Burt doesn't look up from the tire he's changing, and Kurt's oddly grateful. It makes the whole thing seem more casual, not a big deal. He doesn't want to think about what his dad would be thinking he and Blaine are getting up to to make it a big deal. Which means he's blushing when he says, "Yes. He's going to go over my college applications with me." Did he mention how grateful he was that his dad wasn't looking at him? A boy shouldn't blush over college applications, after all. "Isn't he a Junior?" Burt moves around the car to the next tire. "Yes? So?" Kurt asks, a tiny bit more defensively than he wants to have asked. "So what's he know about applying to colleges? He hasn't even taken the SATs." "That doesn't mean he hasn't thought about where he's going, or what it takes to prepare. Dalton has a fantastic counselor; he's probably been looking at colleges since Freshman year." Burt glances at him and raises his eyebrows. "Probably?" "Well, it's not something we've talked about." "And you're taking this kid's advice on your applications?" "Dad!" Kurt complains. "Okay, okay." Burt raises his hands, chuckling. "Can't blame a dad for being protective." "Is that what that was?" Burt nods at his outfit. "Might've been a little bit protective." Kurt looks down at his McQueen for the Met tee that barely reaches his belt and his tight skinny jeans. He blushes. "It's too hot for layers." "I've seen you wear layers in the middle of a heat wave that's knocking the birds out of the trees," Burt says, and it's not like Kurt can say anything back, because it's true. He fiddles nervously with his scarf (silk, blue-gray, lightweight, fabulous, and sun-blocking). "Is it so wrong to want to look nice for my boyfriend?" Burt snorts, and Kurt's sure he heard the unspoken 'hot' where he inserted 'nice' in that sentence. "Look, I trust you, Kurt," Burt says. "But?" Burt raises his hands. "But you don't trust Blaine," Kurt reads (accurately). "A dad's not supposed to trust the boyfriend. Especially the first one." Burt points the wrench at Kurt, but doesn't hide his smile in time. "You know what I think, Dad?" "Yeah. I mean, you're pretty free with your opinion." Burt disappears behind the tire. "On everything." "Very funny." Kurt folds his arms. "I think you like Blaine." "I don't know what you're talking about." "In fact, I think you find him almost as charming as I do," Kurt sing-songs. Burt rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right." "Not like that!" "I'm just sayin' I don't swing that way." "And thank god," Kurt says, gathering his things to his dad's laughter and getting out of there while he has an innocent brain cell left. "I'm going to Blaine's. I won't be home for dinner." "Back by curfew!" "Dad!" "Midnight!" "I know!" "I think my parents think we're having sex," Blaine blurts later when his head is in Kurt's lap and Kurt's stroking his hair, because he is made of just that much fail today. Kurt colors and his fingers still in Blaine's hair. "What makes you think that?" He sounds careful. Cautious. Maybe intrigued? "The way they don't look at me," Blaine says. "And what they don't say." Kurt looks at him with raised eyebrows, and his fingers resume their movement. "That's a lot to get from what they don't say," he says, and Blaine tries not to be hurt that he sounds so dismissive. There's a tiny quaver in Kurt's voice, and Blaine thinks Kurt's not feeling as dismissive as he sounds. "My dad lectured me this morning about being careful and how high the stakes are with you." Kurt bites his lip and looks out the window, fingers scratching gently behind Blaine's ear. "Somehow, I don't think he was talking about crossing the street together." "He really wasn't." Blaine lets his eyes fall closed, because as embarrassed as he is, this feels incredibly nice. They're quiet for a while like that, with Kurt's hands in Blaine's hair, and Blaine's fingers drifting back and forth over Kurt's knee before Kurt says, "Would it be so bad?" Blaine runs that through his head, parses it, and still doesn't understand. "Being careful?" "Your parents thinking we're having sex." Kurt says it so casually, it takes Blaine half a minute to realize he's never heard Kurt say 'sex' in this context before. "We're not," Blaine points out. Kurt's fingers shake, and he presses them more tightly against Blaine's scalp to still them. It feels nice, though, so Blaine's not prepared to call him on it. "We will be," he says, and Blaine's not prepared for the way his heart lurches at that, "I mean, if all goes well, and we keep being normal horny teenagers together, and - " his breath hitches, "sometime, I mean, I think I'd like it if it was you." He swallows. "When we're ready." And that - all of that - does things to Blaine he's honestly not prepared yet to put a word to. He thinks he might be starting to sweat. "For the record," Blaine says, and then trails off, because, honestly, what was he thinking planning to say 'I'm ready when you are' which is possibly the least politic thing to say at a moment like this. He takes a steadying breath and amends it to: "I'd like that, too." He opens his eyes to look at Kurt, who's watching him with a blush on his cheeks. "I'm still not ready for my parents to look at me that way." "They have to get used to it some time." Blaine raises his eyebrows, because when did his blushing boyfriend morph into the guy who can talk about sex this casually? "Okay, either I've been an awesome influence on you, or you've been holding out on me all this time about the innocent act." Kurt hits his shoulder with a huff. "I can grow, Blaine. It's called maturing, something all teenagers are supposed to experience." "You wouldn't be saying that if my parents were here looking at us with disapproval and disappointment," Blaine says, feeling the unpleasant flutter of that disapproval even as he says it. And Kurt ducks his head. "I might," he admits, and Blaine's not sure what he means, but he doesn't ask. Kurt traces the line of Blaine's collar, fingertip tickling over his skin but the contact feeling nice. "Can I ask you something?" he asks. That's always a prelude either to something fantastic or something painfully awkward. "You know I'm not going to say no. Ask." "Do you feel guilty at the idea of us having sex?" Kurt's voice sounds normal, but his blush deepens impressively. And - "What? No!" "Do you feel like it would be wrong or something to be ashamed of?" "Of course not!" Blaine rubs his hands along his thighs and stares at the ceiling. "I just don't know if I can stand looking at my parents looking at me like that." He fixes Kurt with a steady look. "And don't even pretend you don't understand." "I..." Kurt stares at the ceiling and flexes his fingers. "Fine." He huffs. "But my point is: if they're going to look at us like that anyway, would it be any worse if they were right?" he asks in a rush, and Blaine's stomach clenches. "Are you serious?" "I, um, yes?" Kurt shakes his head, though, and continues with, "I mean, obviously we don't have to right now, but, I think, if we're on the same page with where this is heading - " "We really are," Blaine hastens to interject, because, wow, they are. "Kurt lets out his breath. "Oh, good. I think...I think, then, when it seems like time, we could, maybe, let it happen?" Blaine chews on his lip, thinking about that, thinking about just letting it happen. Not stopping themselves for once, and - wow. Yeah. "Kind of spontaneously?" "Spontaneously on purpose," Kurt corrects. "We're still talking about things - we're just talking about them ahead of time. Like now. Because I'm sweating from saying this, and I'm pretty sure nervous sweat like this is the least sexy thing ever, and oh my god, stop me from talking now, please." Blaine has no words, though, because he really, really wants to disagree about the not sexy thing, at least, on Kurt. He seems to want to lick the sweat off Kurt starting with the skin below his lip and ending - oh god. He swallows. It's probably a good thing he can't think of a way to say it without seeming like some pervert who gets off on his boyfriend's discomfort (even though, evidently, he is). "So...it's a date?" he asks, and wants to his his forehead. That sounded so stupid. "A date with no date," Kurt says, sounding kind of breathless. "Yes." "Okay, then," Blaine says, because he's afraid to try to say anything else with his stomach doing somersaults like this. "Alright," Kurt says. "Yeah." Kurt suspects he'll be on edge now until it does happen, and part of him already regrets saying anything. But. There's a stubborn part of him, too, that's all too aware of what people think when they see two men together. And he refuses to be condemned for something he doesn't even get to do, now that he wants to do it. That doesn't stop the whole prospect from being completely overwhelming, of course. Kurt wonders if it's actually possible to be this conflicted on any one issue, or if he's simply a teen prodigy. What he wasn't counting on, though, in this whole talking thing, was being infected by Blaine's paranoia on top of his own conflict. He finds himself testing the paranoia on Finn, who's engrossed in a video game. Kurt sits and watches Finn, tries out imagining Finn looking at him and Blaine thinking...that. Finn stares at the TV. Kurt keeps staring at Finn. Eventually, Finn says, "You're kind of creeping me out here, dude," and Kurt wonders how long, exactly, he's been staring. "I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt lies, finding that once he's started imagining this, it's hard to stop. (And not all of his thoughts are going into disaster territory, either. It's possible he should have tried this out on someone he didn't once have an enormous crush on). "Seriously, what?" Finn asks. Finn doesn't sound upset, though (possibly because he's too busy concentrating on killing zombies). "Did I forget to rinse the cereal bowl again? Because you can totally just tell me to do it if I did." Finn doesn't even look away from the screen, and Kurt has to admit to being impressed with his multitasking prowess. "Can I ask you a question?" Kurt asks instead of answering Finn. "Sure." "How do you feel when people look at you and Rachel and think about what the two of you do together in private?" "Um...kinda proud, I guess? Kinda resentful, because whatever they're imagining is probably a lot sexier than anything Rachel's actually letting me do, but whatever. Rachel's hot - even if she kind of dresses like she's five sometimes - and she's with me, so it's pretty cool they think I'm getting some there. I mean, sure, her boobs are - " Kurt holds up a hand, because the conversation is getting into territory he doesn't want to visit with Finn, now or ever. "That answers my question." "Cool," Finn says, as if he's already forgotten what they were talking about. He mashes a complicated pattern on his controller and says, "Does that mean you're gonna stop staring at me now?" Kurt realizes he is still staring at Finn, imagining more than he really wants to, now, about Finn and Rachel. That's enlightening in its own way. Also disturbing. "Yes. And thank you, Finn." "No problem." Things explode on screen, and Kurt decides Finn is suitably distracted for him to make a graceful exit from an awkward conversation. He retreats to the kitchen (Finn hasn't rinsed his cereal bowl) and tries on resentment for size, thinking about Blaine's parents and what they may or may not be thinking he's doing to their son. Heat pools in his stomach and warms his face, and he bites his lips. Evidently, he and Finn are more alike than he ever suspected. Blaine's still thrown by the whole conversation with Kurt when he lies in bed that night not sleeping. It's times like this when he regrets his time at Dalton, because Dalton friends aren't really the kind of friends you can call up at midnight to ask their opinions on whether or not it would be gentlemanly to make it absolutely clear to your boyfriend exactly how far you're ready to go, and whether that constitutes 'sex' or just really heavy petting with a happy ending. And does it actually matter? The only person he can call at midnight with stuff like that is Kurt, and, well, okay. He dials Kurt. "Does it matter what it's called?" he asks as soon as Kurt picks up. "Excuse me?" "Whatever we do together when we're ready to do it together and go for it," Blaine clarifies (for a certain value of 'clarification'). "Does it need a name?" "I'm assuming you don't mean a name like Howard," Kurt says drily. He doesn't sound like he was asleep, but with Kurt, it can be hard to tell. "I mean when is sex 'sex' for two guys?" There's silence on the other end of the phone, and Blaine really wishes he'd have conversations like this in person, because he's not sure he can keep handling the stress of having them over the phone where he can't see Kurt's reaction. "Kurt?" "I'm here," Kurt says. "I'm just processing the fact that you actually called me in the middle of the night to ask that question." "It's a valid question. I mean, we live in a culture that makes virginity this big huge deal, but there's some guys who go their entire lives loving men without ever wanting to do anal. And I just - I mean, thinking of them as virgins really stretches credibility." Part of Blaine is quietly freaking out that he said the words 'do anal' to Kurt, and the rest of him is freaking out because he's both not ready and so ready to be going here with Kurt. "Well," Kurt says, after just long enough for Blaine to work himself into a minor state, "while I do think virginity is a big deal, or, no. I don't think virginity is a big deal, but I do think entering a sexual existence is a big deal." He sounds so mature. And Blaine feels really, really young all of a sudden. "I don't think that first time should be thrown away on someone you don't care about, or on trying to prove things. We're better than that." Which is profound, and sweet, and lovely, and all Blaine can answer is, "Are you the guy who called himself a baby penguin less than a year ago?" Kurt laughs under his breath. "My education has been accelerated due to the ever-present threat of teenage hormones." "Come again?" "My dad took one look at you in his shop last Spring and decided I needed the talk. And pamphlets. Lots, and lots of pamphlets. Then there was Carole and the books..." There are books? Kurt has books? "Oh." "They're equal parts informative and terrifying," Kurt confesses. He doesn't say they're arousing, but Blaine imagines he hears a degree of breathlessness in Kurt's voice when he talks about them. "Could I...I mean, if it wouldn't be weird, I'd like to see the books, too." Kurt's breath hitches. "No, not weird at all," he says in a fairly high-pitched voice, even for him. "Are you sure?" Blaine asks. "No," Kurt says and groans. "But it can only be a good thing if we're both as informed as possible, right? Maybe they'll even have the answer to your question." There was a question? "Right," Blaine says, struggling to channel dapper, but it's hard when all he can think of is the way he'll be reading Kurt's sex books. With Kurt. Soon. And did he mention they're Kurt's sex books? "Right." Kurt lied. It will be weird looking through those books with Blaine next to him, but it seems that midnight does nothing kind for his internal filter, and by daylight, he's too embarrassed to broach the subject in order to take it back. He's not sure he wants to take it back. "Got plans for the day, kiddo?" Burt asks, setting his coffee down on the table. It's early, so it's just the two of them. "Blaine's coming over for lunch and a study session," Kurt says, in spite of the fact that Blaine doesn't know this yet. He's reasonably confident in its accuracy, regardless. What he doesn't mention is what, exactly, they're planning to study. He takes a drink of hot coffee so he can blame his blush on the heat. "If study sessions today are anything like they were when your mom and I were dating, the door stays open." Burt says, and Kurt swears his eyes twinkle, which has got to be considered some kind of child abuse somewhere. He doesn't have the remotest hope of keeping his blush down, now. "While I do not need that image of you and mom in my head, thanks dad, I would imagine it means something very similar." Kurt takes a deep breath, "And the door will stay open. You don't need to come home to check on us." Again. Which was an experience he's sure neither he nor his dad want to repeat. Ever. "Good," Burt says, confirming Kurt's certainty. It also means that if they - no, when they want to act on the things they're studying, they'll need to find a hotel room or a conveniently and reliably empty house. Kurt isn't sure yet if that feels sleazy to him or incredibly romantic. It's not as if he's been thinking about these things for long. (And when exactly did his idea of what it means to be boyfriends and want someone change this radically? Has it changed completely? Has he changed completely?) "Kurt?" "What?" Kurt snaps his eyes up and tries his best not to look guilty. Burt smiles and shakes his head. "Just remember I'm trusting you to remember the house rules." It's only with sheer force of will that Kurt keeps looking his dad in the eye. "I know, Dad. I will." He really will, too. He tried breaking the rule once, but it just felt sordid. And he may be ready for feeling sexy - with Blaine - but sordid just makes him think of porn and disappointed parents and all the things the world tells him he should be ashamed of. He's not sure he could articulate where the line is between sordid and sexy, or even examine it too closely. Maybe some day. But he is sure he's skirted the edges of sordid with Blaine enough to know, already, that it's not for him. Raunchy, however, he thinks, might be something he's willing to explore with Blaine some time in the future. Burt turns a page in the Sports section. And oh god, he cannot believe he's thinking this in front of his father. Kurt hides his wide eyes and painful blush behind the Lifestyle section of the newspaper before his dad can ask any questions. Blaine hides his face behind one hand, but he can still see the picture on the page of two burly men - or at least, one burly man and another burly guy's wrist and forearm. "No. I - just no. I don't think I'll ever be ready for that." He can't even look at it anymore, and that's the only reason he sees Kurt's eyes widen when he realizes what Blaine's looking at. "Oh my god, Blaine. I give you an entire dictionary of gay sex, and you flip to fisting?" "I didn't flip to anything. It just - opened there." Kurt hides his face in both hands, and Blaine's reasonably sure he can't see the page at all now. "Please, please don't assume it opened there due to any kind of heavy use. Sometimes a page is just...a page." And - wow. Okay, he hadn't even gotten that far, because there's no way he can imagine Kurt looking at that page and thinking 'hey, that's a great idea! Blaine's hands are pretty small anyway!'. Blaine stops abruptly, uncomfortable that his mind went there. He licks his lips and flips a few pages. "This just seems kind of advanced to give a beginner." That seems like a safe thing to say. "What isn't?" Kurt waves a hand, keeping the other across his eyes. It does nothing to hide the flush on his cheeks. "I think she just wanted me to be prepared for someday." Blaine can't take his eyes off the pictures, and his pants are uncomfortably tight. "She's thorough. I'll give her that." Kurt laughs; it's high-pitched and nervous, and he nudges Blaine with his socked toes. "Please stop. I don't want to imagine Carole looking through these books. I've just gotten to the point where I can imagine her going to Amazon and ordering the most popular assortment." "Have you looked through all of them?" Blaine's stuck on the picture for frottage, which seems a million miles beyond the rubbing he and Kurt do in the back of the Navigator. He hears Kurt swallow. "Yes," Kurt says in a tiny voice. "I mean - you know me, Blaine. I research everything to death. Clothes, cars, campaigns, weddings. Why would sex be any different once I got started?" "Did it help?" Blaine asks, even though he isn't completely sure he knows what he means by the question. And if he doesn't know, how's Kurt supposed to know? But it's out there, so he waits for an answer. "I'm not afraid of it anymore," Kurt says at last. "Any of it." "Not even - ?" Blaine starts to ask, thinking of the fisting. "Not even that," Kurt says firmly, possibly thinking of the same thing, which completely blows Blaine's mind. He's still afraid of it, and when did Kurt move light years ahead of him? "I'm nervous," Kurt says. "I'm so incredibly nervous, you don't even know." He uncovers his eyes and drops his hand onto Blaine's knee. "But I'm not afraid." Blaine doesn't know how to answer that, because he's just now coming to realize that he is afraid. Not afraid as in he doesn't want to do this - he does. He really, really, does. But afraid because he's afraid of being bad at it. Or, worse, ridiculous. It's suddenly getting real. "Blaine?" Blaine lets out his breath. "I'm okay." Kurt gives him a look that's hard to read, and Blaine covers Kurt's hand on his knee with his own. He squeezes it. "It's different when it's real," Blaine settles for saying. He watches Kurt look across all the books and pamphlets scattered over his bed, and waits for Kurt to look at him again. Kurt shrugs when he does. "I went straight from fingers touching to pamphlets." "Very informative pamphlets," Blaine agrees. "Positively terrifying." "I thought you said you weren't afraid," Blaine says. Kurt leans up on all fours and crawls across the mattress until their lips meet. "I got over it," he says against Blaine's cheek, and Blaine swears he can hear his own heart thud up against his ribs. He swallows. "Can I borrow this?" Kurt flushes and sits back on his knees, smiling down at his hands. "I thought you had the internet and porn for that." Blaine bites his lip and smooths his hand over the cover of the book. "And we all know how trustworthy the internet is," he says, but what he means is 'I just realized I have a few fears to get over, too.' "So," Blaine says in the Lima Bean over coffee, "you said you actually...read the book? The whole book?" Kurt chokes a little on his nonfat mocha and coughs desperately. He can't help looking around them, as if people near them would just know the book Blaine was talking about, and would judge him for it. He acknowledges and accepts his paranoia. "Blaine." "And..." Blaine takes Kurt's hand across the table, thumb skimming over the web between Kurt's knuckles. "That's a yes?" Kurt's cheeks tingle from blushing, and he hides behind taking a sip of his mocha. He clears his throat again, this time with more composure. "Do you honestly think I'd give you...that...book without vetting it thoroughly myself?" Blaine raises his eyebrows. Kurt huffs. "Yes, alright? That is a yes." "Then, um," Blaine says, clearly fortifying himself with a sip of his coffee, "I don't suppose you remember what's on page 65." Kurt's mouth drops open, because there are so many ways to respond to that, and he doesn't know where to start. He settles for: "How on earth should I remember what's on page 65?" "I don't think I'm ever going to forget," Blaine says with complete sympathy and a direct look into Kurt's eyes that makes Kurt blush to the tips of his ears. "It's the beginning of the chapter on, y'know," he glances quickly around, leans across the table and lowers his voice until Kurt has to strain to hear him, "doing it without actually...doing it. The, um, third one." "So what you're saying...?" Kurt can't finish it, because he suddenly knows exactly what's on page 65 and can't believe Blaine wants to discuss it with him in the middle of the Lima Bean. He leaves the sentence there, because he doesn't think he could survive being wrong about this. "What I'm saying is that some time, when we're both more ready for it, I would like to propose that for a prospective first foray into the more...overly sexual aspects of our relationship," Blaine says, grasping his hand and meeting Kurt's eyes fearlessly and unflinchingly. He's so earnest, it hurts, and Kurt may or may not feel himself falling for Blaine just a little more in that moment. He's not completely sure this is a moment he can have in the Lima Bean, however. For Blaine's sake, he tries. "Suppose I was to accept this proposal of yours," he says. "Would there be a date of any sort involved? Due, expiration, or otherwise?" "Completely dateless," Blaine assures him. "I'm just barely at the point where I can suggest - that. I think putting a date on it this soon would give me premature heart failure." He drops his eyes at last, and Kurt tightens his fingers on Blaine's hand. "Blaine Warbler. And here I took you for a man of the world, ready to dive head first into the waters of exploration." Blaine raises his eyebrows. "Waters of exploration? That's what we're calling it now?" Kurt clears his throat, because Blaine may be right that that was a bit purple, but it's beside the point. "That's beside the point," Kurt says and can't hold Blaine's eyes anymore. "I'm still getting used to the knowledge that all of this is new now. For both of us." "That's why we have all your books and pamphlets to light the way," Blaine says, and Kurt honestly can't tell if he's being serious about this or not. "I don't think that was Carole's intent in giving me the books," he says after deciding the chance Blaine's being serious is high enough to warrant a response in kind. "Why else would she give them to you?" "To make me informed. That's why. That's what you do when you have a teenager. You make sure they're well informed about all the particulars of, you know, so that when the time does come..." "You'll know what to do," Blaine concludes. "Which is why Carole gave you the books. And probably why your dad just gave you pamphlets." Kurt opens his mouth, discards every reply on the tip of his tongue, and closes his mouth again. "The pamphlets are, admittedly, much more about potential dire consequences than about, um," he waves a hand, hoping he won't have to say 'pleasure', or anything else, out loud, because he's still paranoid that everyone around them can hear every word and knows exactly what they're talking about. "She knows you're growing up, Kurt. Both of us are. And eventually, that means we'll probably want to do things. Together. Why shouldn't we know what we're doing?" "Blaine, I've read all of those books at least twice, and I still don't have the first clue what I'm doing." "Me either." Blaine shrugs. "But page 65 is as good a place to start as any." "Better than most, actually," Kurt says, deciding not to ask Blaine if he's gotten to page 216 yet. That is not a place to start, but a large percentage of Kurt's guilty fantasies have featured it since he read the book the first time in June. Blaine raises his coffee in a toast. "Page 65, then." "Page 65," Kurt agrees, tapping his cup against Blaine's. "Whenever." "Whenever's good." It should be more awkward, talking to Carole after essentially agreeing to attempt intercrural with Kurt some time 'whenever'. It's not, though. "Blaine, honey, could you hand me that canister of sugar?" He would, but - "Uhh." "It's the one marked dog treats," Carole says. "Okay." Blaine's not sure what to say to that, so he just hands over the sugar. "Don't tell Kurt," Carole says with a naughty smile, measuring three cups into the bowl in front of her. "He's been trying to get us all to cut back, so we buy the little boxes when he comes shopping, but some things will never taste right without a healthy dose of sugar in the mix. And I told him we kept the jar for sentimental reasons after Finn's dog died when he was twelve." "My lips are sealed," Blaine promises, and files away the dog treats ruse for future reference. He loves Kurt, but man was not made to survive without sugar. "It seems kind of risky baking sugary treats when Kurt's due home any time, if you don't mind me saying so." Carole cocks an eyebrow at him. "I asked him to stop by the store for bok choy and fresh tofu." "You can actually buy fresh tofu in Lima?" "Well, in Lima Heights." Carole sets down the bowl of strawberry jam and lines up her jars. "Would you hold the funnel for me? Thanks. Anyway, there's a Chinese market in Lima Heights, and they have fresh tofu." "And fresh is important, when you're talking tofu?" "It is to Kurt." Carole begins expertly spooning the mixture into the jars. "I hope I'm not keeping the two of you from anything," she says suddenly, clearly only just realizing it, and Blaine finds it too charming to do anything but grin back and shrug. "Nothing that can't wait. We were just going to hang out over the latest issue of Vogue and a couple of deep conditioning scalp treatments." Blaine catches a drip of jam on his finger and sticks it in his mouth. "Oh my god, that's good." "You can have a jar to take home if you want it." "Oh, I couldn't," Blaine says, cursing his manners, and really hoping Carole insists. "I insist," Carole says, making Blaine love her a little more. "We'll consider it your due payment for keeping your mouth shut." Blaine laughs and takes the dog treats canister back to its place on top of the refrigerator. "Okay. I accept." He holds the basement door open for Carole to bring the basket of jars down to the chest freezer. "I knew you could be bribed," Carole says, and Blaine briefly wonders if Kurt and his dad know what they've gotten themselves into with Carole. If he was a better man, he'd feel guilty about his divided loyalty. Carole waves him away, though, when they get back to the kitchen. "I'll clean up. Go wait for Kurt in the living room. I'm sure there's something on TV." She hands him a bottle of water on her way by and gives him a little push. If this is what being included in a little family conspiracy feels like, he kind of likes it. He's still on the couch, soaking up the Hummel domesticity when Kurt swings through the door laden with unmarked shopping bags and pauses only long enough on his way past the couch to drop a kiss onto Blaine's waiting lips. "I'll be out once I've mashed the avocado for your deep conditioning treatment," he calls over his shoulder. Blaine hops off the couch and trails Kurt into the kitchen where Carole is innocently swabbing the counter and humming to herself. "You're going to mash guacamole into my hair?" Kurt raises an eyebrow at him. "Avocado is an emollient and humectant with a long and respectable history, and that is exactly what your curls and scalp need for optimum health." "You sound like my mom," Blaine says before he can think better of it, and the look on Kurt's face is worth it. He has to lean forward to kiss Kurt on the nose "It's not like I'm a Head and Shoulders guy." "Perfection, Blaine," Kurt says, fixing him with the most adorable bitch face in the world, "can always be improved on."
