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Willing To Take The Risk

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Kurt had plans to leave Ohio for New York City since his seventh birthday. Then, his father had a second heart attack Kurt's senior year, and that was out of the question – at least for the time being. There were days he sat in his immaculately-decorated-bedroom-with-large-walk-in-closet in the small house he rented with Finn screaming in frustration. Because no matter how you looked at it, Columbus was not NYC. He'd trade the spacious accommodations in Columbus for a four hundred and fifty square foot apartment most days. New York didn't have Finn or his stupid girlfriends or his stupid dog or stupid football Sundays.

(Some days, Kurt liked the dog more than Finn. Finn had gone out of his way to find a French Bulldog, thinking since French was in the title, it would be love at first sight. Far from it. It took him almost two years, but the he and the dog had finally come to a mutual understanding where he didn’t hate him.)

There was one thing OSU had that New York didn't, however: Professor Blaine Anderson

Kurt first took one of Mr. Anderson's classes the fall quarter of his sophomore year. Kurt wouldn't realize until later, but it was the very first class he'd ever taught. He probably hadn't noticed because Mr. Anderson was a fabulous teacher - to the point where Kurt filled up his electives with his classes his remaining quarters at OSU, even though his classes weren't needed for his Voice major.

It also helped that Mr. Anderson was nice to look at. He always was impeccably dressed and groomed, almost as if he stepped out of the 1950s. He always wore a jacket even if he dressed down in jeans for the day. Mr. Anderson also had a gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and a really nice ass. When he talked, everyone hung on his every word. Kurt would probably listen to Mr. Anderson lecture on the phone book.

Hey, if Kurt was going to sit through three hours of lecture every week learning about the history of music, he'd much rather listen to Mr. Anderson than Mr. Hannum, who had to be thirty years his senior.

Mr. Anderson’s classes weren’t a breeze, there was actually a decent amount of work, and a third of the girls and boys with hearts in their eyes the first day ended up dropping before the add-drop deadline. Still, Kurt had learned more in the three classes he’d had with Mr. Anderson than any of his others in the music department.

Finn was majoring in Music Education (one of the few males in the program, which explained the rotating girlfriends). He and Kurt tried to take the same sections of classes they both needed, hence Finn ending up in all of Kurt's classes with Mr. Anderson sophomore year. It took him about four weeks in to realize Kurt had a crush. Finn teased him for a quarter and a half and then gave up.

Luckily, Finn had run out of electives their junior year, the Education program being more structured due to student teaching. Kurt had signed up for Analysis of Musical Scores fall quarter, happy to be without Finn. It meant getting up early Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to get to campus by 9 am, but it was worth it, in Kurt's opinion. He wasn't as delusional as some of the students to think that he could actually have a relationship with Mr. Anderson, but Kurt would be lying if he said he hadn't jerked off to images of him in his head all summer.

God, he needed to get laid.

Kurt dressed in his best pair of grey skinnies, a short sleeved chambray shirt, his newest boots that he'd picked up at work that summer, and his favorite McQueen bow tie, the chocolate brown polka dot one. At the very least, perhaps he'd meet a fellow student (though, it was doubtful there was anyone in the music programs Kurt hadn't run into).

Kurt walked into Room 312 with a few minutes to spare Monday morning, splurging on a nonfat mocha when he’d passed the on-campus Starbucks. He scanned the room looking for anyone he knew, but it was still fairly empty. He made his way to the far side of the room. Kurt tended to sit in the front, but off to the side.

Kurt glanced over at Mr. Anderson as he walked to his newly claimed seat. He either hadn't worn a jacket due to the lovely late September heatwave or had left it in his office. He was wearing a grey vest that really shouldn't look good on anybody, and Kurt mentally cursed him for how perfect it was on him.

"Hey, Kurt," Mr. Anderson said, grinning as he passed by. "Have a good summer?"

Kurt must have had a look of confusion on his face (or, you know, caught red handed staring, same difference), because Mr. Anderson pulled a face that read 'of course I remember you.'

"Uneventful," Kurt said, returning the smile and trying not to think of the long hours he put in at the consignment shop or multiple fights he'd witnessed between Finn and his ever changing plus one or how he didn't get a part in OSU’s summer productions because they passed over him for theater majors. "You?" he asked, sipping at his mocha to keep his hands busy.

"Unfortunately, a lot of the same," Mr. Anderson replied, reaching in his briefcase for his laptop. "I finished my dissertation, so I spent a lot of time holed up in my office."

Kurt gave him a little clap and Mr. Anderson pretended to bow. "Congrats. Does that mean you're Dr. Anderson now?" The corner of Kurt's mouth quirked up, and damn, he hadn't meant that to come out so flirty.

He laughed at that. "I suppose. Though either works."

"No, you should definitely change," Kurt said, becoming serious for a moment. "You worked hard for it, lord knows I wouldn't have the patience for it."

Mr. - no, Dr. Anderson dropped his smile. "You'd be a wonderful addition to the graduate program, Kurt. If you ever want any information, just ask, I know our advisors tend to suck."

Kurt laughed loudly, though he hadn't meant to. "Thanks," he said, curtailing his laughter to get back on track. "That's really nice of you to say, but I beg to differ." Kurt didn't have any definite plans after graduation next year, but the thought of sticking around Ohio doing research for another three years wasn't on the short list. Or the long list. Or any list at all. "Congrats again, Doctor," he said, raising his mocha in mock toast before sitting down.

Halfway through Dr. Anderson's syllabus lecture, Kurt realized the new title only made him hotter.



Kurt cursed OSU for having the quarter system instead of semesters. Midterms and the onslaught of work came far too early. One of Finn's ex-girlfriends, Liz, who Kurt happened to keep friendly with, had picked up a job at the Starbucks on campus. This meant Finn never showed up there and it was the perfect place for Kurt to study. Liz always saved him the small table in the back next to the outlets on Thursday afternoons, which was perfect - Kurt didn't work on Thursdays and didn't have any afternoon classes, so he camped out there for a few hours before heading home.

Kurt was studying for his Statistics exam one particular Thursday. He'd put off his only math class (trying to fit in a class with Dr. Anderson each quarter last year had its drawbacks), and he was paying for it now. Stupid math. Kurt was a bit of a perfectionist about his GPA, so he always studied hard enough to ensure As – this was tripping him up.

He was going to need to schedule a help session with the math lab to attempt to understand what was going on in his study guide. He groaned and dropped his head to his notebooks giving himself a few minutes to decompress. This work meant that the quarter was halfway over and he was halfway to winter break. Winter break meant three weeks off of work and school and Christmas and New Years and hopefully between now and then, he would find someone decent so he wouldn't have to spend another New Years alone. Kurt had been in plenty of relationships his few college years - none happened to overlap with the holidays though.

He sat up slowly before his daydreams ran away from him and opened his eyes to Dr. Anderson cocking his head merely a few feet from Kurt holding two coffee cups. Kurt jumped about ten feet. "My god," he said, still breathing erratically.

"Sorry," Dr. Anderson said apologetically, frowning probably at the look of horror on Kurt's face. "Wasn't sure if you were still alive over here."

"Well, I was," Kurt joked, trying to calm his nerves. What was Dr. Anderson doing standing in front of him, being distracting and scaring him half to death at the same time? He had an orange patterned scarf around his neck that was making his eyes sparkle something fierce, and damnit, Kurt wasn't going to get anymore work done, was he?

"This isn't my work killing you over here, is it? Because I try to keep the workload just on the other side of murderous." Dr. Anderson was grinning now, mouth of white teeth shining. Fuck Dr. Anderson. Fuck him and his smile and his eyes and his gorgeousness.

"No, Statistics," Kurt reassured him. He gestured to his pile of notes and flashcards and textbooks. "This is what happens when you don't take a math class for over two years. You practically to forget how to add."

"Anything in particular you need help with?" Dr. Anderson offered. "I was in statistics hell myself last year, most of it is still fresh."

Kurt stared at him for a moment. Was Dr. Anderson really offering to help Kurt in a class he didn't even teach? One that he wasn't even in the same department as? Kurt shook his head. "That's nice of you to offer, but I'll just make an appointment with the math lab. They're kind of used to seeing me. I get most of it, but I'm anal about my GPA."

"I would have never guessed," Dr. Anderson deadpanned, the corners of his mouth turning up a little. Kurt tried not to blush at the memory of the minor freakout he had in Dr. Anderson's office last year when his first assignment came back with a B+. "Anyways," Dr. Anderson continued, raising one of the coffee cups, "Liz asked me to bring this over to you. You looked like you needed a refill."

Kurt grabbed the cup a little too quickly and took a sip, letting the warmth fill him. Mmmmm, caffeine. "Thanks," Kurt said, "that was definitely needed."

Dr. Anderson smiled and tipped his head. "Don't study too hard." Kurt sat for a few moments, drinking his coffee and watching Dr. Anderson leave. If he stared at his ass as he walked out the door, well, that was the fault of those perfectly cut brown trousers.

Half an hour later, Liz went on break and came to sit with Kurt and give him another much needed distraction from his work. "Thanks for the redeye," Kurt said as she sat down across from him.

"Hmm?" she asked, looking confused. She pulled a bag of cut up veggie sticks from her purse and offered some to Kurt.

He pulled out a few carrot sticks and picked up his almost empty cup. "Dr. Anderson said you asked him to bring it over."

She squinted at him in confusion. "He asked me what you were drinking so he could buy you a refill. I wanted to ask him why he never bought me coffee last spring when I was in Music Cultures of the World with him, but I guess you were looking kind of pathetic." She shrugged and passed over the small container of dip she'd just opened.

"Huh, weird," Kurt replied. How odd. Really, really odd.

"Kurt, you know I love you, but no way would I give up my daily chai latte for your benefit. It's the only perk of working at this place." Liz smiled at him and shook her cup in his direction. Yeah, Kurt would have to be practically comatose for that to happen.

"It's a good thing I like you without all of your free coffee perks," Kurt joked. He grinned back and tried not to think about the fact that Dr. Anderson bought his coffee for him – and then lied about it.

So odd.


The Thirsty Tavern in all of its horribly-named hole-in-the-wall glory was Kurt & Finn's regular Thursday hangout. They had karaoke night every second Thursday, the food and drinks were decent and cheap, it wasn't overrun with frat boys, and it was only four blocks away from their house. In their joint group of friends and acquaintances from the music department, they usually had a pretty decent crowd joining them. Kurt unfortunately skipped out early most Thursdays this quarter thanks to his nine am Friday class with Dr. Anderson.

One Thursday in mid December, Kurt had made the goodbye rounds around eleven o'clock. He probably could have stayed later, his last Analysis of Musical Scores class was in the morning and it only consisted of presenting their final projects. Kurt’s was already done and memorized, so he really just had to sit through the twenty-three other presentations and try not to fall asleep. He was pretty sure Santana was the drunkest she'd ever been that early, because she'd licked his cheek as he leaned into kiss hers goodnight. Santana was the only non-music major that hung out with them on a regular basis aside from random girlfriends and boyfriends - she liked to complain about the Thirsty Tavern every week, but kept showing up. Kurt shook his head at her as he picked up his coat. He figured he should make a pit stop at the bathroom before the short walk home and wandered to the back of the bar area when he saw him.

Kurt almost wasn't sure it was him at first. He looked - to put it bluntly - young. He had a beanie on his head and thick-rimmed glasses and adidas slides with socks on. He was scribbling notes on drink napkins and Kurt needed to move onto the bathroom before his masturbatory fantasies were crushed forever (the glasses were actually kind of cute but adidas slides with socks). He'd just started moving again when Dr. Anderson looked up and caught his eye. Shit.

Kurt wandered over to the corner booth, not knowing what to say, which worked out because Dr. Anderson started babbling right away. "Kurt. I don't - I didn't - I mean - these are my dog walking shoes."

"O-kay," Kurt said slowly, trying not to look at him like he was insane. "Is your dog hiding under the table?" Which, was a valid question. Kurt might like Finn's dog finally, but that didn't mean he liked all dogs.

"No," Dr. Anderson said, laughing. "Sorry, you caught me off guard. I didn't expect to see any students here, I've never been here before."

Kurt nodded, deciding now was not the best time to go into his speech about always dressing your best. "A group of us from the music department come here every Thursday night. Finn likes the thirty-five cent wing specials, I like that they serve actual vegetables, and the drink specials are amazing. I've been skipping out early this quarter since I have someone's class in the morning." Kurt mentally cursed himself. He'd only had two vodka sodas and two round of shots, he was not drunk enough to be flirting with his teacher. Okay, maybe he was. He'd only been twenty-one for a few months but he really expected more from his tolerance.

"Ah, yes, the ever evil nine am Friday class." Dr. Anderson nodded sagely. "How is Finn doing? The first quarter I had you guys I figured you were either related or in love based on the scathing looks you gave him."

It was Kurt's turn to laugh. "Finn's good. He's my brother, if you hadn't gathered as much. Stepbrother. He's come a long way, he doesn't even blush anymore when people assume we're together."

Dr. Anderson gave him a small smile, and crap. Kurt had said the wrong thing. Awkward silence hung in the air for a moment until Kurt noticed his almost empty glass. "Listen, I don't know what's gone on to derail your normally fabulous fashion sense," Kurt started, waving his hand at Dr. Anderson's awful ensemble, "but you look like you could use another drink."

He threw his coat into the empty booth bench and slid in behind it, motioning to the waitress. He smiled at the adorable blonde who came over - Kate was his favorite. "Kate, I'll have one more vodka soda and my friend ...?" He trailed off, pointing his hands at Dr. Anderson.

"Another rum and Coke?" Kate offered, and Dr. Anderson just nodded, draining the rest of what was left in his glass. She smiled and took it from him, turning on her heel and leaving them alone.

Kurt watched as Dr. Anderson folded up his notes and stuck them in the pocket of his North Face jacket (seriously, what was he thinking when he left the house?). Kurt silently willed Kate to work faster with the alcohol, the absurdity of his plan (or lack thereof) just setting in. “So, look,” Kurt said, folding his hands on the table. “I’ve been told I’m a decent listener if that interests you at all. Or we could talk about other things. The Buckeyes. The weather. Why you are wearing socks with sandals. Why you are wearing socks with sandals in said weather.” Kurt pointed out the window. It was snowing, for crying out loud.

Kate returned with the drinks at that point – thankfully doubles, god, this is why Kate was his favorite – and Kurt continued. “Though preferably not the Buckeyes, I’m not drunk enough for football conversations.”

Dr. Anderson laughed and tilted his glass towards Kurt. “Not a football fan, huh?”

Kurt sipped at his vodka soda before answering. “I like football fine, but after years of football Sundays with Finn, it’s a sore subject.” He paused for another sip before continuing. “I do know more than most people in my demographic, I played on our high school football team for a few weeks my sophomore year.”

Dr. Anderson’s eyes widened at that and he had an amused look on his face. “Really,” he said, more of a statement than a question. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

Kurt didn’t know what to make of the comment, but he felt his cheeks flushing and waved his hand absently. “I’m sure it’s still up on youtube somewhere. It all ended with a fabulously choreographed dance routine, of course.”

Kurt watched as Dr. Anderson chuckled to himself, gripping his glass with both hands and staring at it. They sat in silence for a few more moments before Kurt spoke again. “Are you ready to spill it or should I start in on your shoes?”

That seemed to snap Dr. Anderson out of his trance. “Breakup,” he said simply, looking up at Kurt and attempting to smile, but failing.

“Ouch,” Kurt said, wincing. “In that case, I’ll forgive the footwear this once, but if you show up to class tomorrow in them, I’m dropping Music History III next quarter.”

“You’re taking Music History III next quarter?” Dr. Anderson blurted out.

“Yes,” Kurt said, refraining from saying anything else and refusing to read too much into the excited look on Dr. Anderson’s face. He finished off the rest of his drink – god, that had gone by fast – and opened his mouth again, hoping he wouldn’t blurt out the real reason for taking all of Dr. Anderson’s classes. “I’m going to end up with a minor in Music Theory when all is said and done, I think. So, how long were the two of you together?” Kurt asked, changing the subject to shut himself up.

“Five years. He – I knew it was coming for a while, over a year, but …”

He, Kurt thought smugly. He’d always been fairly certain, but confirmation was nice. He snapped back to attention, realizing he was supposed to be listening. “Still hurts,” Kurt added. Not that he knew from experience, the longest relationship he’d had recently lasted six months.

“I also need to get a new couch,” Dr. Anderson said, finishing his drink and motioning to Kate to bring them another round. “I came home and … well … there were guests.”

“Naked guests?” Kurt offered with a smirk. Dr. Anderson burst out laughing and Kurt joined in, to the point where they couldn’t stop and tears were forming in the corners of their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Anderson said once his laughing had slowed a bit, taking off his glasses and wiping at his face with the napkins Kate had left. “It really shouldn’t be that funny.”

“I hear laughter is the best medicine. Not that I would know, I probably would have lit the couch on fire with them all on it or something.” He smiled at Kate as she dropped off their refills

“Damn, why didn’t I think of that?” Dr. Anderson said, reaching for his rum and Coke and not hesitating to start in on it.

“Because you, Dr. Anderson, are nicer than I am,” Kurt replied pointedly.

Kurt picked up his vodka soda when he heard Dr. Anderson say. “Blaine.” Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him. “You can call me Blaine,” he elaborated.

“Well, Blaine,” Kurt said, clinking their glasses together, “to your new couch.”


Kurt had never shown up hungover to class. The only thing remotely close was that time he showed up at school drunk and puked over Ms. Pillsbury’s shoes. No amount of advil or water or coffee could save him. He wasn’t quite sure how many more drinks he’d had, but he finally fell into his bed around four. He woke up at eight to the dog licking his face because he’d forgotten to shut the door. It was a miracle he even got to campus on time.

They’d talked about a lot – Kurt learned Dr. Anderson – Blaine, that was taking some getting used to now that Kurt wasn’t intoxicated – was twenty-five and went to Dalton Academy for high school. Kurt told him of his own stint at the school and if they weren’t four years apart, they probably would have met, both being in glee club. Blaine told him of how he fell into grad school and teaching, and how that wasn’t always the plan, and Kurt told him of his dreams of New York and his father.

After that, Kurt doesn’t remember much.

Blaine showed up to class ten minutes late, meaning they didn’t have time to get through all of the presentations. Kurt cursed him for looking so put together and well rested – his hair was gelled and there wasn’t a sandal in sight. Kurt hung back at the end so he could be the last one to turn in his research that he hadn’t even presented.

Blaine smiled as Kurt walked up and twirled around. Twirled. “So, do I pass?” he asked, smiling. “Sticking around next quarter?”

“Your twirling is too loud,” Kurt commented dryly, dropping his paper on the podium, “but yes, that was the deal.”

Blaine opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but stopped. Kurt tilted his head as if to ask what?, and he said, “Thanks for last night. That was … that was just what I needed.”

Kurt nodded, gripping the strap on his messenger bag. “No problem. Now, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going back home to sleep before I have to drive back to Lima with Finn this afternoon.” He waved and turned towards the door. “See you in three weeks.”


The plan was to head up to Cleveland for New Year’s. Unfortunately, the plans once they got to Cleveland kept changing, to the point where Kurt was annoyed before they left. He bowed out gracefully, saying that three days of peace and quiet seemed a lot better than their insanity. A few of his friends offered to stay, but he pushed them to go. He had thrilling plans to reorganize his closet and see a few movies and walk Finn’s dog and most importantly, speak to no one.

That is, until he ran into Blaine.

“Nice dog,” he shouted, spotting Blaine and a fluffy overgrown mutt on the other side of the street on his first day of blissful alone time. Blaine spotted Kurt and waved, jogging across street to Kurt’s side. “Even nicer shoes,” Kurt added. He was dressed as a human being again in a navy peacoat, jeans, and black boots.

“Thanks,” Blaine said, slowing to catch his breath while the two dogs sniffed each other. “Have a good Christmas?” Kurt nodded, and asked about Blaine’s, to which he had a similar response, followed by, “I didn’t see you as a dog person.”

“I’m not,” Kurt said quickly, because really, no. “It’s Finn’s dog. He’s in Cleveland for the weekend, so I’m stuck on dog-sitting duty. Beau and I have come to an understanding. He doesn’t lick my face, and I feed him scraps when I’m cooking.”

Blaine cocked his head. “Beau? Finn’s dog is named Beau?”

Kurt laughed. “I actually named the dog. He wanted to name him Bowser, which, does he look like a Bowser to you? No. So I convinced him to shorten it to Bow and said Beau was the French version, being a French bulldog and all.”

“And he believed you?” Blaine asked shaking his head. Blaine’s mutt pulled at his leash, almost dragging Blaine down the sidewalk. “Sorry, he gets antsy, do you mind if we walk?”

Kurt shook his head and followed, Beau trotting to catch up with the mutt so they could walk side by side. “What’s your dog story?”

“Brady is actually my ex’s,” Blaine said with a wince. “He always liked me more and apparently the naked couch guests weren’t dog lovers, so I was graciously granted custody.”

“So we both ended up with dogs that aren’t ours?” Kurt asked as they walked. He was on autopilot, turning when they got back to his street.

“I suppose we did,” Blaine said with a wink and he really needed to stop doing things like that.

Kurt mentally kicked himself for the autopilot, because they ended up back at his house much faster than he would have liked. Beau started up the driveway before Kurt pulled him back. “This is my humble abode,” Kurt said, gesturing to the tiny tan with white trimmed house. The little old lady who owned it had fallen in love with Kurt and Finn instantly, and they’d negotiated a wonderful deal freshman year which involved Finn taking care of the small yard and them not having wild parties.

Blaine looked a little disappointed as well, or maybe Kurt was making it all up, but he figured he should go with it. “Your nose is red,” he lied. Blaine’s nose wasn’t red at all. “Do you want to come in for some coffee or tea to warm up before heading on? As long as Brady won’t attack my furniture,” he added. Kurt may have a thing for boys in peacoats (and well, Blaine in peacoats), but not at the expense of his furniture.

Blaine absently rubbed at his nose, and well – now it was red. “Sure. Brady will behave, I take him over to my brother’s all the time.”

“Do you just have the one brother?” Kurt asked, unlocking the door and unleashing Beau. “And tea or coffee?” Kurt unbuttoned his coat and hung it on the rack before walking into the kitchen.

“Tea would be perfect,” Blaine replied, copying Kurt’s movements and setting Brady’s leash next to Beau’s on the catchall table. “I have two brothers,” he said, watching the dogs continue to size each other up. “Ben is three years older and Bradley is three years younger.”

Kurt set the kettle on the stove and paused when he heard the name Bradley. He hadn’t thought of Bradley Anderson in years. “Your younger brother – Bradley? Did he go to Dalton?”

Blaine smacked his head with the palm of his hand. “He did. I didn’t realize – he would have been a year older than you. He was in the Warblers too.”

Kurt nodded. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t made the connection sooner. Anderson was a common enough name, he supposed. “That was a rough time for me. Bradley – he was the first guy who was genuinely nice to me. I mean, the guys in New Directions were decent to me, especially towards the end, but …” Kurt trailed off, lost in thought.

It seemed as if Blaine was wracking his brain too, trying to make the connection. “What a small world,” he finally commented.

“He was supposed to get me your number,” Kurt added. “He could sort of relate, after seeing what you went through. He kept going on and on about how you’d had a shitty high school experience before Dalton but you had just met some guy and you were really happy …” Kurt stopped when he realized that guy was probably Blaine’s ex. “Anyways, he was a good friend to me at Dalton. One I should have kept in better touch with. Is he doing well?”

Blaine snapped out of his trance to look at Kurt. “Bradley? Yeah, he ended up at Princeton, pre-med, he’s really happy there. Engaged to a really nice girl.” Blaine’s voice was kind of distant, in a way that Kurt couldn’t place. He raised an eyebrow and turned to the cupboard to get two mugs and teabags.

“Good for him,” Kurt said, as the kettle boiled. He figured it was time to change the subject. “Milk or sugar?”

“Sugar,” Kurt heard from behind him, so he grabbed his bowl of pretty sculpted sugar cubes, glad someone else would appreciate them. He sat them on the kitchen nook table with the two steaming mugs and motioned for Blaine to sit. The dogs had plopped down on the linoleum floor, staring at each other, keeping a decent distance between them.

“Kurt, I’m really sorry,” Blaine said as he sat down, “I didn’t realize –“

“Wait a minute,” Kurt said, putting his hands up to stop Blaine. “Are you actually trying to apologize for something that happened over five years ago before you knew who I was? Because that would be pure insanity right there.”

Blaine didn’t seem convinced so Kurt sighed and grabbed two sugar cubes. “Doc – I mean, Blaine, put sugar in your tea and shut up about it before I throw you and your stupid dog back out into the cold.” Kurt would much rather have met Blaine as a reasonably well adjusted young man than the messed up sixteen year old he was back then. At least now he could keep his objectifying to himself.

“They’re shaped like flowers,” Blaine finally said, reaching for the bowl of sugar cubes.

“Of course they are,” Kurt replied. As if he would have sugar cubes that were actually cubes. “They’re also infused with lavender.”

That got a smile out of Blaine, so Kurt continued on with the subject changing. “So, what do you have planned for your last four days of freedom?” Kurt asked, stirring his tea one last time before removing his teabag and setting it off to the side. “I’ll have you know I have very thrilling plans of reorganizing my closet and watching really awful movies.”

Blaine frowned a bit and Kurt realized just how pathetic that sounded. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I could have easily gone to Cleveland with everyone else. A few people offered to stay behind, but I wouldn’t let them. Peace and quiet for a few days sounded lovely.”

“My new couch is being delivered tomorrow,” Blaine finally said. “I splurged and got the matching loveseat and entertainment center.”

“Impressive. I’m surprised they’ll deliver tomorrow,” Kurt said in between sips of tea.

“It was either tomorrow or the next day, and I’m supposed to go to a faculty party tomorrow night. I’m dreading it so my plan is to drink heavily.”

They both laughed and Kurt said, “Blaine, if you don’t want to go, don’t go. Stay at home and christen your new furniture.” Blaine almost choked on his tea, and Kurt could feel his cheeks heating up. “Oh, god, I didn’t mean it like that,” Kurt blurted out. “I just meant. You know. Replacing bad memories with good. Though, it’s your couch, and you’re an attractive guy, so I’m sure you’d have no trouble finding someone to help.”

Kurt wanted to bury his head in the sand. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. Where had his filter gone? Blaine was just staring at him, amused. “I’m just going to shut up now and drink my tea.”

Blaine grinned into his tea. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flustered, Kurt.”

“It’s not a look I employ often,” he replied and why was he talking? Talking gets him in trouble.

They sipped in silence for a few moments before Brady leapt up and ran around in a circle. Blaine cursed under his breath and drank the rest of his tea quickly. “That means he needs to go out and the last thing I want him doing is peeing on your carpet.”

“I’m grateful for that,” Kurt replied, following Blaine and Brady into the hall.

Blaine pulled on his coat and snapped Brady’s leash on. “Thanks for the tea. Have fun with your closets.”

Kurt nodded, still holding his mug. “Have fun with your furniture,” he replied, inwardly wincing, but Blaine just grinned and waved as he walked out the door.

“Beau, I am such an idiot,” Kurt said, slumping against the door. The dog came over and started licking his hands, something Kurt wouldn’t normally allow, but he was too self mortified to stop him.


Kurt’s closet reorganization took up the rest of the day and he ended up with a consignment shop bag as well as a goodwill one. That left New Year’s Eve for his bad British chick lit movie marathon. He’d already finished Confessions of a Shopaholic, and was halfway through Bridget Jones’s Diary when he noticed something out his window.

It looked like Blaine and Brady were on the sidewalk across the street.

Kurt paused the movie and peeked out to double check and sure enough – the pair was walking slowly down Kurt’s block.

Well, they lived close enough, he reasoned. They were allowed to be on his block after all.

He started to watch the movie again and just as Mark asked Bridget why the soup was blue, he saw them out of the corner of his eye again. And they definitely slowed down once they turned onto his block.


Well, Kurt at least could go get dressed and see if they were still around once he was done. He’d already completed his morning routine except for the putting on clothes part.

Which, the putting on clothes part took a tad longer than usual - because, really, when your very hot professor circles laps around your house, what do you wear? He finally settled on his grey skinnies and a slouchy navy sweater that was both warm and fashionable. Kurt hadn’t walked Beau yet anyways, just let him run in the backyard for a bit, so he pulled on his jacket and a plaid scarf and shook the leash to get Beau’s attention.

He didn’t expect Blaine to be on his front doorstep when he opened the door.

“Oh. Hello,” he said in surprise, thankful that he’d actually put clothes on that weren’t pajamas.

“Kurt! Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Blaine said with a smile. Kurt closed and locked the door and walked out into the driveway where Blaine had backed up to, the dogs already sniffing each other to get reacquainted.

“No, it’s fine,” Kurt replied, purposefully leaving out the fact that he knew how long Blaine had been hanging outside his house. “I’m assuming there was a reason as to why you were going to knock on my door,” Kurt said, Beau dragging him past Blaine and Brady to the sidewalk.

“What, I have to have a reason for stalking you now?” Blaine said with a laugh. “I’m sorry to just show up, but I didn’t have your number.”

Kurt nodded. “I have mace in my pocket, it’s all good,” he joked, trying to get Beau to slow down so they could walk next to Blaine.

“So, they delivered all of my furniture, and I realized I have no clue what to do with it all. Your house looks so put together, and I’m going to assume that’s your doing and not Finn’s.”

“Your assumption is correct,” Kurt said. “Though really, if you wanted me to help you redecorate, you should have asked for my input before you bought things.”

“Sorry,” Blaine said, shrugging his shoulders. “I still think I made excellent choices. You sure you don’t mind?”

Kurt shook his head. “I’ve seen Bridget Jones’s Diary a time or two, I think I know what happens. Show me where you live. Beau is also a very good houseguest.”

Blaine ended up just living five blocks over, in a house very similar to Kurt’s. It was painted a gorgeous light bluish-green, making it stand out from all of the beiges and tans and pinks on the street. Blaine actually owned instead of rented, his parents had helped him with a downpayment on the place when he graduated with his PhD over the summer.

Once inside, Kurt took a quick look at the new purchases. Blaine had actually picked out good furniture, dark mahogany wood that was close to the shade of the hardwood floors, but just a tad darker to stand out, with sage green cushions. The placement was all wrong, so wrong that it had Kurt wondering if Blaine had the furniture guys place it that way on purpose. “You need to paint the walls,” Kurt stated, walking around. “Either a blue or a grey. On second thought, grey would be better. The yellow doesn’t go with the wood at all.”

"Right, paint," Blaine repeated, nodding as Kurt spoke.

"Why is the entertainment center on that wall?" Kurt asked, pointing. It was far too close to the fireplace. Kurt was jealous of the fireplace. It was the only thing he thought their house was missing.

"Because that's where the old one was?" Blaine answered gingerly. Kurt just shook his head.

"Okay, I'd move the entertainment center to the far wall if there are cable hookups over there." Kurt walked over to check, and sure enough, there were. "Then angle the couch and the loveseat towards it with the coffee table in the middle, of course - you didn't get a rug? You should get a rug."

"Paint and a rug. Check." Blaine was perched on the edge of the loveseat with his arms folded over his chest, looking a little amused, almost like he wasn't sure what he'd gotten himself into.

Kurt put his hands on his hips. "Hey, you were the one who asked for help. Now, help me move the entertainment center. At least you haven't plugged it all back in."

Blaine hopped off the loveseat and pulled off his sweater, revealing a thin, faded red tee. Kurt tried not to stare, but Blaine had really nice arms, and crap. Kurt hadn't known that before. Kurt was only wearing an undershirt under his sweater and there was no way that was coming off. "Sorry," he apologized, gesturing at his sweater, "I didn't really dress for furniture moving."

Blaine looked concerned for a moment. "That's a really nice sweater. Do you want to borrow one of my shirts? You know, so you don't get it messed up?"

"Uh, sure," Kurt said, trying not to over think the fact that he'd be wearing Blaine's clothes. Blaine held up a finger for Kurt to wait and ran to presumably his bedroom.

He returned only a moment later, thrusting a navy shirt at Kurt. "The bathroom is all the way down the hall," Blaine added, motioning with his hands.

Once in the bathroom, Kurt pulled off his sweater, noting that the long sleeved henley Blaine brought him was almost the same shade of navy. He had a fleeting thought of Blaine actually trying to color match, but Blaine had been gone too quick for that. Kurt emerged from the hallway rubbing his hands together. "Alright, Anderson, let's get to work."

Blaine had furniture gliders underneath everything, so moving the furniture wasn't actually too much work. It didn't take them long to get everything in place. Kurt wasn't one for manual labor, but he didn't mind as much when he had a nice view. He was sure he'd be putting the images of Blaine with his muscles flexed to use later on during his solo New Year's Eve.

Once they were finished, Blaine went to the kitchen to get them water to cool off and Kurt moved over to the front entryway to get a better view of their handiwork. Blaine returned and passed him a bottle. They stood silently looking at the room while they drank for a while before Kurt recapped his bottle, turned to Blaine, and said, "Now, see? Doesn't that look better?"

"It does," Blaine said quietly, and Kurt realized Blaine was staring at him. "You have some water," Blaine added, bringing his thumb up to Kurt's cheek to wipe away a water droplet. It was strangely intimate, and Kurt's heart began to race. "Kurt," Blaine said, his voice low, which wasn’t helping Kurt’s heart slow down.

Kurt waited a minute to see if Blaine was going to continue his thought, but he didn't, so Kurt simply said, "Blaine," his voice cracking a bit on the tail end, which he hadn't meant to do, but it caused Blaine's eyes to widen.

He sat his bottle of water down on the table in the entryway, and said, "Oh, fuck it," and before Kurt could formulate a response to that, Blaine's lips were on his. Kurt made a surprised noise against them, but pulled Blaine closer, dropping his water bottle in the process. Blaine pulled back and stared at Kurt, a look of disbelief on his face, almost as if he couldn't believe what just happened. Kurt felt the same way, but yanked at Blaine's tee to get him back where he was, and soon enough Blaine's tongue was mingling with his and he'd been pushed back up against the wall.

Any resolve Kurt might have had shattered on the floor when Blaine started mouthing up his neck and whispering in his ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he said, and at that point, Kurt was gone.

Kurt breathed out, “Yeah.” At least, it sounded like ‘yeah’ in his head, what came out of his mouth didn’t really come out that way, but Blaine got him just the same. Blaine whined against Kurt’s neck, and Kurt was glad Blaine could understand him, because he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to make coherent sentences for a while.

Blaine obviously didn’t have such a problem. His hips darted forward, and between the wall, hard against his back, Blaine’s cock hard against his, and Blaine’s breath hot in his ear, his nerves were on end. “You have no idea, Kurt,” he whispered in between more kisses, “no idea.”

“Tell me,” Kurt managed as his hips bucked against Blaine’s. Because, seriously, how long had this been going on?

Blaine’s mouth had made its way down to Kurt’s collarbone and the strip of skin below that the henley failed to cover, since it was unbuttoned. “I think about you all the time, Kurt. When I get off, it’s your hands instead of mine. Your hands always look so soft. All of your skin, god, Kurt.”

Kurt ran his hands up under Blaine’s tee, because he couldn’t figure out how to get a hand between them (and the fact that Blaine was the one telling these things to Kurt, doing these things, was turning him on more than he thought possible). They must have been as soft as Blaine anticipated, because he buried his head against Kurt’s shoulder and groaned. Kurt ran his hands back up and down Blaine’s back, tracing circles down to the small of his back, causing Blaine to curse under his breath. Kurt tugged the shirt upwards and Blaine raised his hands so Kurt could remove it all the way.

Kurt tried to move forward a little to get his own mouth on Blaine’s skin, but Blaine ran his own hands under Kurt’s shirt, yanking at it like he couldn’t get it off Kurt fast enough. Kurt finally gave up trying because Blaine kept planting kisses down Kurt’s chest as if it were his mission. “How long?” he asked finally, as Blaine was drawing circles around one of his nipples with his tongue, just far enough away to be a tease.

“Months,” Blaine replied, finally, after flicking his tongue on Kurt’s nipple and causing Kurt’s back to arch further into him. “So long, Kurt, too long. Long enough that when I was cheated on, I felt guilty, because I’d been thinking about you for months.”

Well, fuck.

Kurt arched into Blaine again, and Blaine pulled back for a second, a look of concern on his face. “I didn’t just freak you out, did I?”

“Fuck, no,” Kurt breathed, pulling Blaine back in, kissing him hard on the mouth. It was really hot, even though it was wrong, but Kurt didn’t want to think of the ramifications of that right now, or what an awful person it probably made him. Between their hips rutting together and Blaine whispering dirty things at Kurt, and Blaine’s mouth, Kurt was close to coming already.

Blaine skimmed his hands down to Kurt’s hips, thumbing the waistband of his jeans. “These pants are my favorite,” he said softly. “The first time you wore these – at the beginning of the quarter – that’s when I started to –“ Blaine seemed to be losing his words as well, his breathing becoming more erratic.

“Yeah?” Kurt asked, because he seriously needed Blaine to keep talking. He’d always had a thing for Blaine’s voice in class, but god, this was a whole different level. “What – what did you think about?”

Blaine fumbled with the button on Kurt’s jeans and as quick as that, Blaine’s hand was around him, stroking slowly at first, speeding up with the intensity of his words. “I’d thought about you before, but not – not like that. I thought about what you look like when you come – the faces you’d make, the sounds – god, the sounds you’re making now.” Kurt didn’t even realize he was making any noise, but he was, needy, breathy moans escaping his lips.

Blaine’s hand started pumping faster, twisting every few strokes, and Kurt was going to come embarrassingly fast. “Blaine,” he said, desperately, not even knowing what he was asking for.

Blaine seemed to get him anyways, once again, because he redoubled his efforts and said, “Come on, Kurt, I want to see you.” Blaine locked eyes with him, and that’s what finally did it, causing Kurt to come hard and slump down the wall.

Somehow Blaine was on the floor with Kurt as well, though Kurt wasn’t quite sure how he got there in his post orgasm haze. Blaine was looking at him with a mixture of desire and oh-my-god, what-the-fuck-did-I-just-do? and Kurt wasn’t having any of the second part. He pushed Blaine back onto the floor and covered Blaine’s mouth with his. Keeping his mouth busy meant he couldn’t think, right? Kurt quickly undid Blaine’s jeans to return the favor, his mouth never leaving Blaine’s, and the whole telling-Kurt-his-fantasies thing must have worked for Blaine too, because it wasn’t long before he was coming all over Kurt’s hand.

Kurt rolled off Blaine to find his undershirt and wiped his hand with it before lying down next to Blaine on the hall floor and passing it to him. “This is why you need rugs,” Kurt teased, and Blaine laughed before covering his face with his arm, the oh-my-god, what-the-fuck-did-I-just-do? finally catching up with him. Kurt allowed him to wallow for a few moments before fixing his jeans, rolling on his side, and poking Blaine. “Hey,” he said, Blaine finally turning towards him. “We’ve already established you’re nicer than I am, is this the part where I’m supposed to tell you this is all okay?”

Blaine smiled at Kurt’s words. “It’s just,” he started. “I don’t want you to think I planned this or anything. I mean, I really did just want help with the furniture.”

“Sure,” Kurt said, drawing out the last syllable and nodding his head. “That’s what you say to all of us, isn’t it?”

Blaine whacked him with his own undershirt and Kurt pretended to act appalled. “You’re not helping,” Blaine replied. “The issue is I have a perfectly brand new couch, loveseat, and bed, and I had to throw you up against a wall and ravish you.”

“I do seem to have that effect on people,” Kurt joked. He narrowly avoided another whack from the undershirt by rolling onto his stomach. “Don’t worry about it, the wall aspect was kind of hot,” he added and he knew he was blushing.

Blaine’s face softened at that and he rubbed his thumb across Kurt’s cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes, knowing that the comment was just making him blush more. “Wait, you said you got a new bed too?”

Blaine nodded. “Luckily I haven’t been here much because of the holidays, but the only bed I’ve had here the past three weeks is an air mattress. I didn’t mention it after the whole couch incident yesterday.”

Kurt bowed his head. He was sure his cheeks had to be flaming now. “Not my proudest moment,” he commented.

“I thought it was adorable,” Blaine commented, sliding closer to Kurt on the floor and wrapping his arm around him. “I think you’re adorable.”

“You’re kind of ruining my bitchy image here,” Kurt replied, resting his chin on Blaine’s chest as Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt’s hair.

“Yeah, I always saw right through that,” Blaine said, smiling softly at him. “I guess I can tell you now, but I almost wore the stupid sandals to class so you’d have to drop next quarter and then I could properly ask you out.”

“It’s a good think you didn’t, because I would automatically refuse an offer from anyone wearing those shoes – even you,” Kurt said, poking Blaine in the ribs to prove his point. A thought occurred to him and he groaned. “I guess I’m going to have to drop now though. Ugh, there’s not going to be anything decent left at this point and it’s one of my last electives.”

“No, stay,” Blaine said, turning serious and his voice dropping an octave. “I think you should stay.” He pulled Kurt further up his chest so he could kiss him.

“I think I just saw some very dirty thoughts flash before your eyes, Dr. Anderson,” Kurt teased and it was Blaine’s turn to blush. He refrained from telling him how cute he looked (though, he was adorable).

Blaine pursed his lips for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure if he should share with Kurt, and he finally said, “I just was thinking about how nice it is to see you in class, and how much nicer it’ll be if I’ve fucked you senseless the night before.”

Kurt quirked his eyebrow. “I was right, very naughty,” Kurt said, biting his lip and trying to ignore the fact that his cock was trying to get hard again.

Blaine apparently didn’t want to ignore that fact, because he grinned wickedly and kissed Kurt again. “I should show you my new bed. I feel like I’ve done plenty of over-sharing today, so maybe you could return the favor and make me feel less like a perv.”

“Well, I’ve only known this side of you for about thirty minutes, but I’ve got to say I quite enjoy it,” Kurt said, smirking. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Shut up,” Blaine said, “you’re doing that not helping thing again.”

“Alright, come on then,” Kurt said, sitting up. “The floor is hard, your bed is soft. Let’s move there.”

Kurt pulled at Blaine’s arm and he scrunched his face up. “That’s not sharing.”

“I’ll share plenty,” Kurt protested. “I’ll give you a little preview – it involves me fucking you senseless.”

Blaine practically tripped over his own feet trying to get up. Kurt tried not to laugh.

Tried being the operative word. "You're being very unhelpful," Blaine said as he caught up to Kurt, pretending to pout.

"Unhelpful, huh? Sounds like someone needs his ego stroked." Kurt smirked at him and reached down Blaine's still unbuttoned jeans to find him already hard again. "Or something stroked at least. Is that more helpful for you?"

Kurt locked eyes with Blaine and Blaine's breath hitched. "That's very helpful, I don't know what I was talking about."

"Mmmhmm," Kurt murmured. "I'm sure. Now, come on, I was promised a bed."

Blaine's new bed was dark wood, king sized, and high off the ground ("To keep the dog off," Blaine pointed out). It had a thick down comforter patterned with blues and browns and reds, and just enough pillows to be interesting but not over the top. "I'm glad I made the bed before I came to visit you," Blaine said as Kurt hopped up on the mattress. He slid himself in between Kurt's legs. "Is it comfy?" he asked.

"It is for now, but ask me later," Kurt replied. "You should take off your pants and come up here with me."

"You're still wearing pants too," Blaine pointed out as he slid off his jeans and boxer briefs. He unbuttoned Kurt's jeans again, and Kurt lifted his hips a little so Blaine could pull them off.

"Now, come on," Kurt said, climbing over to the other side of the bed, giving Blaine room to climb up. Blaine pulled back the covers and settled in on the pillows, Kurt not wasting any time settling in his lap.

"Hello again," Blaine said quietly, grinning and wrapping his arms around Kurt's back.

"Hi," Kurt replied as Blaine pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, and Blaine's grin must have been contagious, because Kurt couldn't stop himself from smiling. "So, over-sharing," Kurt said, using his position to his advantage, kissing up Blaine's neck like he'd wanted to earlier. "Is there anything in particular you might want to know?"

Blaine tried to muffle a groan when Kurt hit a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear, and Kurt filed that one away for later. "How long have you been thinking of me?" Blaine managed to ask.

Kurt paused for a moment before saying, "Let's just say longer than you've been thinking about me. I haven't been taking your classes just for your compelling discussions."

"Fair enough," Blaine replied, "though thinking back, I guess it was longer than a few months for me."

"Mmm, really?" Kurt hummed into Blaine's chest. He lazily kissed down to Blaine's stomach, and damn, he had to have a nice stomach too. If Kurt wasn't so turned on, he'd be annoyed at all this perfection.

"Yeah. That time you came into my office a few quarters back? Trying to get me to change your grade on that paper? That was the first time I really noticed you."

"That was halfway through the quarter, you sure you didn't notice me before then?" Kurt teased, working his mouth down the trail of hair on Blaine's stomach.

"That was my first quarter teaching, I didn't notice anyone before then, period." Blaine's breath hitched again and he had to stop a minute before continuing. Kurt didn't stop at all, just smiled into Blaine's skin, pleased that he could make Blaine come undone just as Blaine could him. "Anyways, when you left, I should have been annoyed with you, but I was just really confused and really turned on."

"Should I be yelling at you now? Because that totally wasn't in my plan." Kurt had made his way down to Blaine's thighs, and he placed light kisses along his right one.

"What exactly is your plan?" Blaine finally asked, a little high strung. "Because, oh my god, Kurt."

"Good then? I wasn't entirely sure, we were doing a lot of talking." Not that Kurt minded in the least, of course.

"So good," Blaine moaned, his cock involuntarily twitching with Kurt so close. "I'll shut up now."

"Oh, no, do continue," Kurt said evenly, moving his hand to finally stroke Blaine, "I quite enjoy your commentary."

"You do? Because -" Blaine broke off in a gasp when Kurt sunk his mouth down over him. Kurt almost felt bad for not warning him (but not really). "Oh, god, Kurt, you feel amazing."

Kurt hummed in approval, sinking back down lower, and Blaine kept babbling on, half incoherent, about how good it felt. Kurt wondered if Blaine was always like this. He probably was. Just the same, he spent his time keeping Blaine on his toes, changing directions to keep the noises flowing from his lips. It wasn’t long before Blaine was begging, “Please, Kurt, please – in the drawer.”

Kurt pulled off and leaned over to open the nightstand drawer – it must have been new too. It was mainly empty other than the lube and condoms. Blaine wasn’t kidding about setting up the important things in his room before he went to see Kurt. Kurt couldn’t help but smirk, and Blaine didn’t miss that. He pulled him over before he could move back down the bed and smiled as he kissed Kurt. “What?” Blaine asked, curiously.

“Nothing,” Kurt mused, “just this whole story of not planning anything isn’t as convincing as it once was.”

“Hey, I didn’t have a nightstand, you don’t want to know where they were before.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow and gave Blaine a disapproving glance, but didn’t comment further. He didn’t really want to know. He pictured them sitting on the floor next to Blaine’s air mattress and didn’t want that confirmed. He must have been taking too long, because Blaine finally said, “Were you just going to stare at me like that? Because it’s kind of hot but, jesus, Kurt, I need –“

“You were saying?” Kurt said, cutting him off with another smirk and pressing one lubed finger at his entrance. “Eventually you’ll realize I’m one step ahead of you.”

“I like that about you,” Blaine replied, gasping once again when Kurt finally gave him what he wanted. “Before long, you’ll have me convinced you can read my mind.”

“Oh, I definitely can’t read your mind,” Kurt said as he watched Blaine’s muscles clench around his finger. He slipped another one in, moving his eyes back to Blaine’s face, because if he didn’t stop watching what his hand was doing, this would all be over way too soon. “If I could read your mind, we would have done this a long time ago.”

“That’s a tragedy, then,” Blaine added, gasping when Kurt angled his fingers ever so slightly. “Oh fuck, please, Kurt,” he breathed.

“Patience,” Kurt replied, clucking his tongue at him but adding a third finger. They settled into a pattern then, Kurt pumping his fingers slowly, Blaine pushing back against him trying to get more, actually silent for once other than his heavy breathing. Kurt closed his eyes just for a second, getting lost to the moment, only opening them again when Blaine said his name, low and raspy and full of want.”Okay, okay,” Kurt said quietly, pulling out his fingers and climbing up on the pillows next to Blaine. “I want you – I want you in my lap. It’s the one – well, it’s what I think of the most,” Kurt said, getting a little flustered. He’d never done this before, shared his thoughts with someone he’d fantasized about for so long, but it turned him on so much when Blaine did it earlier, he figured he could at least try.

Blaine’s mouth was on his the second he was done, groaning into the kiss, so Blaine must have approved. “Fuck, that’s hot,” Blaine said, moving to do what Kurt asked, “like this?”

“Yeah,” Kurt breathed as Blaine shifted above him, “just like that, come on.”

Blaine grabbed a condom from the box. “Now who’s impatient?” Blaine teased, as he tore it open, rolling it onto Kurt and being generous with the lube, to the point where Blaine apologized for the overflow, chuckling a little.

Kurt just returned the laugh and replied, “They’re your new sheets.”

They both went silent as Blaine got back in position and lowered himself onto Kurt’s cock slowly, Kurt trying to be as still as possible. “Mmfph, Kurt,” Blaine murmured once Kurt was all the way inside.

“I know, Blaine, I know, you’re so –“ Kurt was cut off before he could finish, Blaine kissing him fiercely as he started to move. Kurt’s hips jerked up in time to meet Blaine’s and they moved rhythmically together. Kurt wasn’t kidding when he told Blaine this is what he thought of most – honestly it had gotten him through a very long and trying summer and fall. The real thing though was so much better, so much better than he ever imagined, and it wasn’t long before Kurt reached down in between them to stroke Blaine’s cock. “Blaine – I’m close, and I want – you first,” Kurt said brokenly, trying to keep his hand in rhythm with their other movements and not really succeeding.

“Yeah?” Blaine asked, his breath catching at the request. “You want –“

“I want to feel you when you come, Blaine, I want it so bad,” Kurt added, jerking his hand faster around Blaine’s cock. “I bet you feel amazing.”

Luckily, Blaine must have been close because it wasn’t long before Blaine was coming all over Kurt’s hand, his muscles pulsing around Kurt, sending him over the edge himself, just like he knew it would. Blaine collapsed into Kurt, and they lay there together, both breathing heavily and coming down.

Finally, Blaine pulled off, hissing at the loss, and Kurt carefully removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it on the floor. Which was pretty disgusting and something he wouldn’t normally do, but he had no idea if Blaine had a trash can other than the one in the bathroom and there was no way he was moving any time soon. At least the door was shut so the dogs wouldn’t come in and find it.

“Come here,” Blaine said, his voice raspy. He pulled Kurt against him, and Kurt buried his head in Blaine’s chest. He closed his eyes and smiled thinking that Blaine made an excellent pillow.


Kurt awoke with a start to fireworks going off. Who had decided to set off fireworks in the dead of winter?

Oh, right, it was New Year’s Eve.

Oh, right, he was in Blaine Anderson’s bed. The TV volume was down low and it seemed as if the ball had just dropped in Times Square.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Kurt said, rubbing his eyes when he realized Blaine was next to him. “Your new bed is especially comfy.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Blaine said, smiling and leaning over to kiss Kurt. “Happy New Year, Kurt.”

Kurt smiled into the kiss and pulled him closer, deepening it. Happy New Year, indeed.