Chapter 27

Saturday, September 30th, 2023

To: Kurt <3

So I know it's 5AM and you're probably

asleep, but you said to try tomorrow if I

want to talk, and I do, and it's tomorrow,

and I'm rambling...

To: Kurt <3

Just call me when you wake up. If you

want to, of course. If you're up for talking.

Or seeing me at all.

To: Kurt <3

I'm going to shut up now.

Blaine put his head in his hands after reading over the three consecutive texts he'd sent Kurt. Stupid, stupid, stupid, the voice in his head screamed at him. Too weary to note it in his notepad, now fuller than he'd like to admit, he sighed and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, quietly shuffling into Nick's kitchen.

The searing pain in his heart from the day before had lessened to a dull-but-present ache, replaced largely with overwhelming guilt over how childish he'd acted in Dr. Jacobson's office. But he wasn't sure that Kurt would feel the same – after all, Blaine's empty side of their bed was a constant reminder of the lack of trust Kurt had in his husband. And in spite of what Kurt said the day before in the elevator, Blaine questioned whether Kurt would want to meet him at all, let alone call him back at five o'clock in the morning. Which was why he jumped a good six inches off the ground when his phone began to buzz erratically on the counter just as he was about to pour a cup of coffee.

"Kurt?" he said, trying not to sound frantic as he answered.

"Hi."

"I can't believe you called me back – I thought you were asleep."

"Blaine, do you really think I slept at all last night after what happened yesterday?" Kurt asked, sounding exhausted.

"I –" Oh. Probably not.

"Do you want to meet me in the park in twenty minutes?"

Blaine was shocked. He was still reeling, actually, from the fact that Kurt had called him back, and now he wanted to meet with him – but twenty minutes ...

Blaine had plans for grand apologetic gestures. A song would probably be inappropriate, but maybe apology breakfast, and if there wasn't time for that, maybe a bouquet of apology flowers. Kurt deserved apology flowers, at least – Blaine was being such a complete moronic mess. But twenty minutes? That barely gave him time to shower and make it to the park, and – fuck it, Kurt wanted to talk with him. He'd figure something out. "Yes. Absolutely, yes."

"Oh. Okay. Good." Kurt paused. "I can pick up a couple coffees on the way, if you want ..."

"Oh." Blaine looked down at his mug, now steaming and full. "That's okay; I just poured some."

"Oh," Kurt said, sounding a little disappointed. "Well – never mind, then."

Stupid, stupid, stupid, why didn't you just let him buy you a coffee? God, you are such an idiot – "I'm sorry."

"Blaine, it's fine. It's just coffee."

"Right." Blaine sighed. "I'll just – see you in the park, then?"

"Okay."

"Okay." Blaine hung up the phone, let his head roll back on his neck, and groaned at what a complete moron he was.

* * *

Kurt sat on a bench in Tomkins Square Park, knees pulled up to his chin, shrouded in the shadow of a large oak tree. It was too early to be light yet, and he let himself revel for a moment in the quiet that came before dawn. A calm sort of quiet, the kind of quiet that compelled him to sit still and breathe and be. So Kurt sat, still as a statue, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, and was.

With each breath he exhaled, a little of the hurt from the day before went with it, and he felt the tension in his neck from the long and wearisome night slowly melt away. He was ready for this, ready to forgive and to talk and to try to take another baby step toward reconciliation.

He saw Blaine approach before Blaine saw him and watched as his husband scuffed the ground with the tip of his shoe, apparently a new nervous habit. Kurt worried that all his shoes would be ruined by the time he moved back in. He wondered what was going through Blaine's mind, what the morning would bring.

He looked up at the sky. No matter what, the morning would inevitably bring the sunrise, and Kurt found hope in that unwavering truth.

He took a breath. "Blaine," he called, waving, "I'm over here."

Kurt caught the recognition in Blaine's face – such an expressive face, his husband had; Kurt could read him like a book from yards away – and watched him jog the rest of the way down the sidewalk. Once in front of him, Blaine made a jerky little motion like he almost wanted to kneel, then changed his mind. Instead he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled a folded-up paper towel out of it.

"I – here."

Unfolded, a bouquet of flowers appeared, obviously drawn a bit hastily – the pen was smudged in places, and the proportions weren't quite right, and they were very obviously colored in with a red Sharpie and a yellow highlighter.

Kurt smiled. "What's this?"

"Apology flowers," Blaine said, rubbing the back of his neck. "God, it seems so stupid now – I wanted to get you a real bouquet, I was gonna do red and yellow roses, but it's like five-thirty and nobody's selling them and I didn't have time ... I'm sorry they're, like, neon. They look radioactive, especially the yellow ones."

"Blaine," Kurt said fondly, tracing the smudged flower petals with his finger. He didn't see radioactive roses drawn on a paper towel. He saw love, remorse, humility. Somehow he saw their marriage. Imperfect, smudged, but present and bold, just like the colors bleeding through the paper. "Thank you. But you don't have anything to apologize for."

"Don't I?" The bench creaked beside Kurt under Blaine's added weight. "Dr. Jacobson says I apologize too much, but I feel like yesterday –" He paused. "Or – well, she hasn't ever said that out loud. But she always asks if I think I apologize too much. And what things I think merit an apology."

Kurt cocked his head. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," Blaine said. "I don't know what she'd say about yesterday. I feel bad about what happened –"

"You feel bad about a lot of things, Blaine. So do I." He sighed, turning to face his husband. "I shouldn't have ever brought up Karofsky yesterday."

"That ... was a little hard to hear."

"I know it was. I'm sorry." Kurt rubbed his eyes, sincere in his apology and frustrated with himself for ever saying it. "He didn't – it was different. It was a completely different kind of fear, and I don't ever want to make you think that I think you're like what Dave used to be. It was uncalled for, digging up old demons like that."

"I provoked you," Blaine said, his voice soft. "On purpose, I think. I just get so mad sometimes. I feel so stuck, Kurt, I get angry and lash out at you and then I feel guilty for it. I'm so sorry. I hate seeing you hurt. I hate that I walked out on you when I told you the whole time Abby was pregnant that we'd do this together, no matter what happened."

"I hate that, too." Kurt said sadly. "Have you talked to Dr. Jacobson about that yet? The anger, and the guilt – you felt guilty for things you don't need to feel guilty for for a long time before Violet ever came into the picture."

"Well, considering that I have a fucking laundry list of things to talk about, no, I haven't quite gotten to guilt yet." He leaned over and put his head in his hands, and Kurt placed a comforting hand on his back.

"I'm sorry, Blaine."

"No, I'm sorry." Blaine turned his head so that he was looking at Kurt. "Why do I do that? I'm not actually mad at you – not for anything but the nursery thing, but I think we're kind of even on that front."

"I don't know. You're dealing with a lot."

"So are you, but you don't fly off the handle at anything anybody says to you ..."

"No," Kurt said drily, "I just clean until my fingers hurt, I micromanage everything, and I feel like puking every time I try to eat. As far as coping mechanisms go, mine are top-notch." Blaine cracked a smile, and Kurt smiled back. "Maybe we should try to be a little more patient with ourselves. And each other. This was just our first week in therapy together, you know."

"I know. I know, you're right."

"Mmm-hmm. I usually am, you know," Kurt teased gently. "How long till sunrise?"

Blaine glanced at his watch. "Half an hour, maybe?"

"Let's stay and watch it," Kurt said, pulling the blanket he'd brought from home out from behind his back where he was resting against the bench. "We can cover up with this."

"Kurt – why are you being so nice to me?" Blaine asked, looking at the blanket warily.

"I'm not mad at you, honey," Kurt said, and saw Blaine relax a little with his standard term of endearment. "I'm a little raw. I don't feel like I can trust you like I used to. But I can't be mad, knowing why you did what you did. I know you're still mad at me, though, and ..." He took a breath, shoring himself up. "And that's okay. But you have to let me know if this isn't working for you." He hesitated. "Is this not working for you?"

"Is what not working for me?" Blaine asked.

Kurt couldn't bring himself to meet Blaine's eyes, and he looked down, picking pieces of fuzz off the blanket thrown over their laps. "This. Us. Being a family again."

"It's not – I don't want to say it's not working for me, because I want it to work," Blaine eventually said. "You have no idea how badly I want it to work. But – I feel like I'm caught in this cycle of mad-guilty-numb-weak, and I don't know how to get out of it, and I definitely don't want to bring you into it. I – I'm scared, Kurt. I'm never even sure of exactly who I'm mad at, and I hate that."

"Maybe a little bit of everybody," Kurt said gently, making himself look at Blaine.

The light in Blaine's eyes faded. "I think it's mostly me," he said forlornly.

Kurt found Blaine's hand under the blanket and held it, hoping he wouldn't pull away.

He didn't.

Something seemed to shift as they sat in silence, watching the leaves rustle in the trees as the morning breeze blew through the park, streaks of light just beginning to filter through the branches in the trees. The tension between them ebbed, Blaine's breathing slowed, Kurt's shoulders relaxed again. Kurt looked up at the sky, and saw that the dark blue clouds were beginning to glow with a flaming orange. He held up a finger, pointing to them. "Look, Blaine."

"It's pretty," Blaine said softly.

You're pretty, Kurt wanted to say, but didn't. He did, however, give Blaine's fingers a squeeze, and scooted a little closer.

"Lie down, Kurt," Blaine said, patting a hand on his lap. "Watch the sky."

Kurt didn't question it, this sudden reconnection he felt with his husband. He wordlessly shifted around, swinging his legs up onto the bench beside him, and lowered himself backwards until his head was cradled on Blaine's strong thighs. A shudder shook his entire body as Blaine's fingers stretched out slowly on his scalp, twisting their way through his hair.

They sat like that for a long time, watching as the clouds glowed brighter until there was no blue left, but instead seemed to blaze aflame, as the edge of the sun became visible over the tall buildings.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," Blaine said, sincerity breaking the silence. His fingers flexed in Kurt's hair and Kurt's stomach stirred. He opened his eyes, expecting to find Blaine's gaze trained on him, but Blaine was still looking at the sky. "I wish we could go back and redo so many things..."

"Blaine, so do I," Kurt breathed, staring up at his husband's face, the angle of his jawline so striking from below that Kurt felt a pang of lust in his gut. He smiled to himself, knowing that strangers would call him insane to fight with a man so gorgeous that he put Greek gods to shame. Soon, though. Soon Blaine would be back home, back in their bed, and they'd be back to loving in the ways they were so good at ...

Blaine took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, and Kurt had to restrain his hand so as not to run it up inside of Blaine's shirt. He was just so handsome in the dawning light, and ... no. Kurt needed to focus. They were having a conversation. It was important. He allowed himself one gentle touch to Blaine's cheek, reaching into the air to draw Blaine's gaze back down, before he spoke again. "You know if I could go back and change everything – the nursery, the way I talked to you for so long –" He paused, remorse filling him over ever yelling at the beautiful man above him. "But not having Violet. I'd never want to redo that. Would – would you?"

Blaine sighed, squinting as a bright ray of sunlight found its way through the leaves. "No," he finally said. "No, I wouldn't change that, either."

It felt, to Kurt, like a small miracle. "Good," he said softly. "I'm glad."

He lay in Blaine's lap, watching as the sky brightened until they were both squinting, ducking their heads this way and that to stay in the shadows of the tree. Kurt shifted under the blanket, turning over so that he was curled toward the back of the bench and Blaine's belly. Whenever Blaine took a breath, his soft sweater brushed up against the tip of Kurt's nose, and he nuzzled in a little closer.

"Getting sleepy?" Blaine asked.

"Mmm," Kurt answered. He was a little, cocooned in the blanket against Blaine's stomach. He'd found a little cave of warmth in the middle of the cool fall morning, and it was only the breeze against his face, ruffling his hair, that kept him from dozing off into peaceful slumber, cradled against his husband.

"You can take a nap, if you want."

"No, that's okay," he said, stretching like a cat. His back arched and his calves flexed and his toes pointed and he felt Blaine grin at him as he let out a contented purr.

"Sometimes I forget how cute you are," Blaine murmured.

"Well, I'll be happy to help you remember," Kurt said, stretching his arms up above his head for just a beat longer than necessary. He paused. "Blaine, do you happen to remember what Dr. Jacobson said at the end of our appointment?"

Blaine cocked his head. "Kurt, are you asking me out on a date?"

He wasn't expecting for Blaine to be quite so direct, and it caught him a little off-guard. He blushed, stammering, "I – um – well, I just didn't know if you caught all of what she said at the end; you were so upset when we left –"

"I wasn't any more upset than you were. And I definitely heard what she wanted us to do for our homework assignment."

Kurt blinked at him.

"So are you asking me out, or not?"

"If I were, would you say yes?" Kurt asked, a little smile crossing over his lips.

Blaine's eyes flickered, showing him a glimpse of the boy Kurt fell in love with all those years ago. "I think you should try and find out."

Kurt reached up, cupped Blaine's cheek. "Go for coffee with me?"

"Just coffee? I might need a little more wooing than that ..." Blaine smiled coyly, and Kurt felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him.

"Really, now," he breathed, bringing his hand up to the back of Blaine's neck, and oh, he'd missed that smile, the one that made Blaine's eyes crinkle at the corners. "I thought coffee was our thing. You certainly wooed the hell out of me with it."

Kurt sat up, bracing his free arm a little uncomfortably against the rail on the arm of the bench, and slid forward, their faces so close that he could feel Blaine's breath on his lips.

"Well," Blaine whispered, "I guess it's worth a shot..." Kurt closed the gap between them, his lips slipping against Blaine's in perfect synchrony. Blaine gasped against him and drew him in tight, one arm slung around Kurt's back, the other coming up to thread once again in his hair. Kurt could feel in his veins the love that Blaine poured into the kiss, and though it wasn't particularly heated – neither of their mouths ever opened for the entrance of a tongue – it was intimate in a way that their most recent kiss hadn't come close to.

Blaine broke away first, sighing with his forehead pressed against Kurt's. "Oh my god, I miss you," he said, his eyes shining with tears.

"I miss you too, honey," Kurt said thickly, pressing another hard kiss to his temple as he sat up the rest of the way, half in Blaine's lap, clinging to him with his arms around his shoulders.

"Don't let go yet," Blaine murmured. "Kiss me again."

And Kurt took Blaine's face in his hands as the sun fully emerged from behind the buildings, rising higher and higher in the clear morning sky.

* * *

"So, breakfast and coffee? At Bean Me Up?"

Blaine nodded, blushing as Kurt asked him. He felt silly, blushing at such a simple question, but they'd just finished kissing and he could still feel it in his toes.

Kurt took his hand and grinned. "Hi. I missed you."

"Hi," he said, still flushed. "Braxton and Wendy are gonna shit themselves when we walk in together, you know."

"Braxton and Wendy can think whatever they want to. We'll sit outside," Kurt said decisively, tugging on his hand.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Blaine gestured to his worn jeans and plain v-neck sweater. "If I'd known that we were going on a date, I would've dressed better."

"You look perfect," Kurt said. "And we're both casual, so it's fine."

Casual my ass. Casual on Kurt was still sex personified. Blaine looked at Kurt's pale shoulder, on display where his wide-necked sweater had slipped down his arm. His skin was lightly dusted with peachy-tan freckles, a side effect of the blistering sunburn he'd gotten on their beach vacation three years prior – Blaine had almost forgotten. He sighed, remembering all the kisses he'd planted on those freckles. "Yeah, well, you could wear Crocs and acid-wash and still look amazing, so ..."

"Don't ever use the word 'Crocs' when referring to me ever again, please," Kurt said drily. "Seriously, you're fine. It's just coffee, Blaine."

"It was never just coffee, Kurt."

Kurt stopped, turned around. "No," he said slowly. "No, you're right – it wasn't."

* * *

From: Jeff

Hey, my flight arrived like 15

minutes early! Are you here yet?

Nick picked up his pace, darting into the Arrivals wing of JFK.

To: Jeff

Just got here – on my way to baggage

claim.

He jumped a mile when a pair of arms closed around his chest, and a warm voice murmured in his ear, "Beat you to it."

"Oh my god," he gasped, his heart racing like a rabbit's, "you scared me, you asshole!" He turned around in Jeff's arms, laughing as his breath came in short bursts.

"Sorry," Jeff said, a devious tone to his voice.

"No you're not!"

Jeff grinned. "No. I'm not."

Nick squeezed him hard around his waist, pecking him on the cheek. "So you have all your stuff? Ready to go?"

"Ready," Jeff said, giving him a grin that could've lit the city for a week.

"Good, because Blaine's out with Kurt. He left me a note."

"Ohhh," Jeff sighed in his ear, "that is excellent news. For them and for us."

Nick blushed. "I think I like the sound of where this is going."

"You should know exactly where this is going," Jeff murmured. "I told you I was planning to pick right back up where we left off on Skype last night ..."

Nick bit off the groan that rose in his throat. "Home," he croaked. "Let's go home."

* * *

The familiar scents and sounds that hit Blaine's senses nearly bowled him over as he walked hand-in-hand with Kurt into the coffee shop. Wendy was grinding beans behind the counter with her back turned to them, singing along with the music softly playing in the background.

"So who's to worry if our hearts get torn, when that hurt gets thrown, don't you know this life goes on ... And won't you kiss me on that midnight street, sweep me off my feet, singing ain't this life so sweet ..."

"I didn't know you liked David Gray," Blaine said, his heart thudding as he listened to the lyrics.

She whipped around, and her face lit up when she saw him. "Blaine!" she squealed, running around the counter to throw her arms around his neck. "Oh my god, it's been ages – and Kurt, how are you guys? Oh I'm so glad you came in today – where's Romeo?"

"At home," Kurt answered with a smile, returning the hug that she offered him. "It's good to see you, too."

"I was beginning to worry that you'd found another coffee shop!"

"Nope," Blaine said simply. "It's just – it's been a long year, and I haven't been able to write much –"

"Oh, honey, it's fine, I'm just glad you're back!" Wendy exclaimed. "Your coffees are on the house today. What do you want?"

Once they were settled at a table outside, Wendy sneaking glances out the window at them at regular intervals, Blaine felt himself relax. He was on a date. With Kurt. For coffee. It felt almost as familiar to him as breathing.

"So," he said, taking a sip of his medium drip.

"So," Kurt replied, "do you want to hear how Rachel almost burned down our kitchen the other day?"

"Again?" Blaine asked, incredulous, and apparently that was icebreaker enough – they were laughing together like they'd always done, their ankles crossed over each other's as if nothing had ever changed.

They sat at their little table as they drank their coffee, swapping stories of two separate lives. Kurt entertained Blaine with accounts of Rachel's sometimes overzealous cooking endeavors – "I swear, that girl will never learn how to flambé anything" – and Blaine whined to Kurt about how Alex was hounding him to churn something out – "'I don't care if it's shit, Blaine,' he tells me, 'I just need something.'" Wendy came out and brought them new drinks, and a tendril of jealousy unfurled in Blaine's stomach as they began to talk of Nick's and Jeff's budding romance.

"It's adorable and totally sickening at the same time," Blaine sighed. "God, our friends must've hated us in high school."

"Mercedes had a hard time with it, I know," Kurt mused, petting his hand over the back of Blaine's, and he couldn't help the feeling of déjà vu that washed over him – they could have just as easily been back in the Lima Bean twelve years prior. "But I can't say that I was ever particularly sorry."

"No," Blaine agreed. "I wasn't either. I – I miss it, actually."

Kurt beamed, and Blaine felt a flame of ... something, he wasn't sure what, flicker inside of him. Hope, maybe? Love? ...Was he getting a crush on his husband?

"It is sweet though – Nick and Jeff, I mean," Kurt said. "They're so new, if that makes sense. And whenever I see Jeff, he's just walking around in awe – you know he's been in love with Nick since he was fifteen, right?"

"I can't believe I never knew," Blaine said, shaking his head.

"Nobody knew. I can't imagine how awful that would have been. I was so obvious when I fell for you, but at least people knew, and I could talk about it. Jeff didn't have anybody."

"Until he had you." Blaine nudged Kurt's foot with his. "I'm glad you were able to be there for him. You're always so good at that ..."

Kurt blushed. "Stop. If you're saying that I'm the reason they're together, you're completely off-base –"

"No, not the reason – that was all them. But you did give Jeff the courage to try, right?"

"And here all this time I thought you were the one who encouraged people to be brave," Kurt grinned.

"I might encourage, but you inspire, Kurt. You're always so brave yourself ..."

"Not always." He reached across the table to squeeze Blaine's hand. "I'm not very brave when it comes to losing you."

Oh the things one sentence from Kurt's mouth could still do to Blaine's heart, oh oh oh. He brought Kurt's hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles. "You won't, Kurt. I'll never make you worry about that again ..."

"Is that a promise?"

"I swear it," Blaine said, nodding solemnly. "Never again."

Kurt sat back as he contemplated Blaine's words. "Okay," he said slowly. "Okay."

"Kurt? Do you believe me?"

"I think I'm starting to."

* * *

"I know I've said this before, but god I feel sixteen when I'm with you," Jeff murmured, mouthing at Nick's neck playfully as he unlocked his apartment.

"Just don't start singing Katy Perry to me," Nick grinned. "Blaine would be totally appalled if you stole his thunder, even after all these years."

They stumbled through the door and Nick dragged Jeff to the couch, stealing kisses the whole way. Jeff was more than happy to be carted along, holding onto Nick's hand like it was the surest thing he knew. He thought that maybe it was.

"So, are you still wanting to pick things up where we left off?" Nick said, perching on the edge of the couch, his cheeks flushing rosy pink. "Because if I remember right, you were begging me to ... um ..."

Jeff tilted his head, trying to remember the nature of his babbling the night before. "You're gonna have to help me out a little."

"Do you remember what you said right before you came?"

"Umm ..." Jeff narrowed his eyes, thinking back – he'd been jerking off, he vaguely remembered a little too much lube – "Oh," he gasped. "I – Nick I said I wanted your mouth – is that –"

"I – I think I'd really like to try." Nick dropped onto his knees in front of Jeff, his eyes nervous.

Jeff's heart stuttered in his chest. "You don't have to," he said, watching a real-life version of one of his teenage fantasies play out before him. Sixteen-year-old Jeff would've probably come in his pants the moment Nick's knees touched the floor. "I – if this is going to make you uncomfortable –"

"No. No, it's not, I just – I want everything with you, Jeff. But I also want to make sure I'm doing it right." He paused. "I've been practicing, but I don't know how good I am yet ..."

"You've been practicing?" Jeff squeaked, both delighted and surprised. "On what?"

"Um, cucumbers?"

It was like watching roses bloom on Nick's cheeks and neck and chest as he blushed, and Jeff desperately wanted to kiss him. Strangely, the thought of Nick attempting to half-swallow a cucumber whole was one of the most romantic things anyone had ever done for him. "Cucumbers, huh?" he said impishly, stroking his fingers down Nick's cheek. "You'll have to tell me how I compare."

"Well, I hope you're less bumpy, for starters."

Jeff snorted – he couldn't help it, it just flew out of his mouth, and he leaned forward in a fit of giggles, his head falling on Nick's shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure we'd both be in for a world of hurt if my dick was as bumpy as a cucumber," he said, wrapping his arms around Nick's neck. Jeff kissed him, then, because he needed his lips on Nick's skin like it was a necessity – he'd stop breathing, the world would cease to turn on its axis if they weren't. "I'm so glad you're my best friend," he whispered.

"And I'm so glad you're mine," Nick murmured back. "It makes all this – this new stuff – so much easier." He rose up on his knees and held Jeff's face, and Jeff knew he could get lost in this, could get lost in Nick himself and never come out again. As good as their Skype sex was, and as gorgeous as Nick was when he was overcome with orgasm, and as much as Jeff loved watching him – nothing could beat proximity. Jeff wanted to drown in touches, to memorize Nick's skin over and over now that he had the chance. He traced fingers down Nick's forearms, rubbing wiry hairs the wrong way so that they stood on end, threaded his hands in dark, shaggy locks, clutched at Nick's back, feeling muscles ripple under cotton and skin.

And soon, he felt Nick's hands travel south to his belt buckle.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Jeff asked gently, cupping Nick's cheek in his hand. "I don't want to push ..."

"Believe me," Nick said, his voice gravelly. "You aren't pushing." He grabbed Jeff's hand and thrust it between his legs and – oh. Oh. Maybe he wasn't pushing, after all.

Nick moved back to Jeff's pants, unbuttoning them and slipping the zipper down with ease, and –

"Fuck," Nick whispered reverently, drawing the tip of his finger down the length of Jeff's bare cock. "Is it my birthday or something? Because that's a nice surprise..."

Jeff chuckled, his breath coming in spurts and sputters under the light, tickling pressure of Nick's finger. "I almost forgot, actually – sorry –"

"Of all the things you might ever need to apologize for," Nick said, bending to press a kiss to the tip of Jeff's cock, which incited a low, rumbly moan from his chest, "going commando is not one of them."

"N-noted," Jeff managed to stammer as Nick pulled his pants low on his thighs. Ever so slowly, and how it felt like love Jeff just couldn't comprehend, Nick's lips wrapped around him and Nick's tongue flicked lightly into his slit. "Oh god ..." Jeff whimpered, unable to stop himself from curling his fingers in Nick's hair. He was so hard, throbbing already, and Nick hadn't even gotten started yet. Don't come, don't come, don't come, Jeff chanted silently, plastering his ass deep into the couch so his hips would stay still.

And then Nick's mouth started its slow descent over the shaft of his cock, and reduced Jeff to half-uttered phrases and little grunts. "Nick, do you have any idea – god, so much better than I ever – I used to masturbate to this –" he babbled, his head rolling to one side on his neck.

Nick growled around a mouth full of dick and Jeff's breath stuttered out of him. He felt the vibrations in Nick's throat spread through him until he was vibrating with it; he could almost hear his bones rattling. He was losing it, his whole body on the edge of a mind-blowing orgasm. He wasn't ready for it; he didn't want this prickling pleasure to end, and if Nick made one more move with his tongue or his mouth –

He pushed his boyfriend backwards with a frantic, "Hang on, hang on, give me a second –" and Nick slid off with a loud pop, worry etched on his face.

"Did I do something wrong?" Nick asked, a little short of breath. Jeff probably could have come just looking at him, his lips red and wet, his pupils blown. "God, did I hurt you? My teeth or something? Or – here, I'll just use my hand, let me get some lube –"

Jeff grabbed him by the shoulders before he could stand. "You're not going anywhere," he said seriously. "Jesus, your tongue –"

"So – it wasn't bad? I didn't hurt you?"

"No," Jeff moaned. "I – I was about to come, and I wasn't ready – I want it to last –" He sighed, looking down at his swollen cock, aching and dripping with precome and saliva. "I don't think it's going to last."

Nick smiled sweetly, a little shyly. It was blowing Jeff's mind – when had a blowjob ever been sweet? "Well – I hope I can make it good for you while it does."

"Nick," Jeff said, his voice quavering weirdly, "You make everything good for me."

Nick smiled again, dragged his fingertips down Jeff's hips, making him shiver. He watched in awe as Nick's beautiful red lips sunk back over him again, taking Jeff as deep as he could, wrapping his hand around the rest. He breathed through his nose and swallowed, the tight suction around Jeff's cock making him moan loudly.

"You are the most beautiful man –" Jeff whispered around the shuddering breaths filling and emptying his lungs. "God, Nick – yes, god, like that –"

Nick bobbed his head up and down slowly, and if he thought about it, maybe it wasn't the best technique Jeff had ever encountered. But it certainly wasn't the worst, and more importantly, it was Nick and he was sucking on Jeff's cock, and holy shit –

"Is this okay?" Nick asked, pulling off again.

"Yes, yes, yes," Jeff panted, "just don't stop, please don't stop, oh my god –"

Nick, eager to please, sank back over Jeff's cock like he'd never left it, taking him even deeper this time, his hands sliding underneath Jeff's hips to grip his ass.

"Oh, god," Jeff sighed, "Oh god, oh fuck –" He felt sparks lighting in him, mainly in his cock, slipping in and out of Nick's perfect mouth, but also in his legs and arms and fingers and face. "Nick," he gasped, his impending orgasm nearly burning him, "Nick, Nick, shit –"

He fisted a hand in Nick's hair and grabbed the arm of the couch with the other as he tried not to drive his hips forward, spilling hot into Nick's mouth. Jeff groaned as Nick closed his eyes and swallowed, a bit of come slipping out and running down the corners of his mouth.

When Jeff's cock had finally stopped pulsing and he pulled out of Nick's glorious mouth, Nick was still swallowing, his eyes wide and full of lust.

"Oh my god," he said, coughing a little. "Jeff –"

Jeff collapsed face-down on the couch, panting, but Nick pulled him up for a messy, wet kiss. Jeff could taste his come in Nick's mouth, and damn if that wasn't an unexpected turn-on – it had never done anything for him before. He tipped his head to the side and licked over the planes and ridges of Nick's mouth, tasting, and Nick went limp, letting him.

With the last burst of energy he had left, Jeff tugged him toward the couch and up into his lap and – oh. Nick hadn't gone limp all over, apparently ...

He was whimpering, actually, jerking forward against Jeff's thigh once he got settled, and Jeff made himself pull back from Nick's come-coated mouth long enough to look him in the eye. "Hey. What do you need, baby?"

Nick's face was desperate as he spoke. "Anything, your fingers, I –"

"Shhh," Jeff soothed, cupping Nick's face in his palm. "What do you want? You want my fingers – inside of you?"

"God, please," Nick moaned.

"Okay," Jeff murmured. "Let's go to your room." He leaned heavily on Nick as they walked down the hall, in part because he was still half-drunk and shaky from orgasm, but mostly just because he could, and because Nick was solid and warm and Jeff needed to be near him.

Nick practically vaulted onto the bed once they passed through the doorway, and Jeff managed to hoist himself up after him, crawling on all fours toward the headboard where Nick sat.

"I can't believe it, still, sometimes," Jeff whispered, tucking himself under Nick's arm, trying to slow his breathing.

"Well, you should try." Nick took Jeff's hand, brought it to his cock. "Because this is real, Jeff."

"I – I –" I love you. "You're perfect." Jeff's voice was reverent when he said it, his fingers ghosting over Nick's cock, over his balls, back and back until Nick gasped loudly.

"Oh, there, oh – god, this – why –"

Jeff's finger lightly circled Nick's hole as he leaned in and whispered, "Let me take care of you."

Nick nodded frantically, and Jeff found a bottle of lube and slicked his fingers, trying to hurry with Nick's erratic breathing loud in his ears. He scooted toward the end of the bed, kneeling in between Nick's knees, and soon he had a finger pressing inside. He smiled as Nick's muscles clenched around him, Nick's toes flexing rhythmically in the air.

"Oh god, Jeff," Nick gasped as he slid himself up and down on Jeff's finger. "God, why do I love this so much?"

"Because it's awesome," Jeff smiled, slowly fucking into him. If Nick was falling apart this much with just one finger, Jeff couldn't wait to see what the rest of the morning would bring...

"I try to do this to mys-hahhhh – myself," Nick gasped, twisting the fitted sheet he was lying on in his fingers. "But it's nothing – it's uncomfortable, and the angle's wronnnnnnnng – oh god – but you –"

"But I?"

"You make it incredible," Nick moaned, tilting his hips up. "Can you – more?"

"You want another finger?" Jeff clarified.

"Yes."

"Okay, but I'll go slow," Jeff said gently, slipping his index and middle fingers in beside each other, stilling to let Nick's muscles stretch against the intrusion.

"Oh, wow," Nick said, shifting his hips just slightly. "Oh, wow, that's – god, it's kind of tight –"

"You okay?"

"Mmm, I – it doesn't hurt, really, it – just –" he broke off, shifting his hips more so that Jeff's fingers were deeper. "Damn," Nick said, "it's – I've just never tried two –"

Nick's muscles were pulsing against the wider stretch, and Jeff gently picked Nick's left leg up off the bed, mouthing over the inside of his thigh until Nick was moaning, the ring of muscles relaxed.

"Can you move?" he begged, his head thrown back. "Can you – that place –" He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and looked at Jeff. "My prostate. I want you to – I need –"

Jeff wondered if this was what it felt like for your brain to melt out your ears. "Of course I can," he said, pressing in and searching until – there. He let his fingers graze over the little bump, making Nick shiver beneath him.

"There-there-there," Nick moaned as Jeff slid his fingers gently in and out, slipping over Nick's prostate with each motion. "Oh, god, two is better, fuck –"

"How does it feel?" Jeff was surprised to hear his voice come out deeper than normal.

"Fuck – feels incredible – ohhhh, don't stop –"

Jeff worked him open, slow and deliberate, rubbing steadily against his prostate. Nick writhed and moaned as Jeff kissed up his legs, over his stomach, stretching to swirl his tongue around Nick's nipples, sucking purple spots into his smooth, tanned skin. He paused, holding himself up over Nick's heaving chest with one elbow, and let himself stare, still twisting his fingers inside Nick. It felt like a dream, being there, being inside him. Never had he let himself hope for this, never in a hundred million years did he think he'd ever actually get it ... If he'd had a free hand, he might've pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming – he couldn't count how many times he'd gotten off to this, but Nick was even more velvety against his fingers than he'd imagined, and god, his voice ...

"Jeff?" Nick's voice was soft, and Jeff's name sounded so, so beautiful on his lips. Jeff hadn't ever really loved his name much before now, but now it was lovely; now it held reverence on Nick's tongue.

"Hmm?"

"I'm not losing you, am I?"

Jeff smiled. "No way," he said, kissing Nick sweetly on his lips, still red from the earlier blowjob. "I was just thinking."

"About me?"

"About you."

Nick smiled back at him. "This is incredible," he sighed. "I didn't know – I had no idea it could feel like this ..."

"Tell me?" Jeff murmured, kissing down Nick's chest again.

"Like ... like you're unfolding me from the inside out," Nick said. "Like you're shaking me apart ... oh Jeff ..."

Jeff stretched up to Nick's face and kissed him deeply, working his tongue against Nick's. He was being swallowed whole, little by little, his tongue in Nick's mouth and his fingers in Nick's ass and god, just imagine what it would feel like to replace his dick with those fingers ...

His cock twitched, suddenly interested again, and as he moved to suck on Nick's neck, he felt himself growing hard. As Nick continued to sigh and moan and as Jeff's fingers kept slipping in and out of Nick's ass, perfect and silky-smooth, Jeff glanced down, surprised to see himself lengthened to his full potential. He couldn't help but think that it was a pretty impressive recovery time for a man of twenty-nine years.

"Can I have another finger now?" Nick gasped, bringing him back to earth.

"Sure, baby," Jeff said, planting another kiss on his mouth. "But it'll be a bigger stretch – breathe through it with me, okay?" He carefully added a third finger, and Nick fell apart underneath him.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Nick panted, arching his back, and Jeff stilled immediately.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt, or is it just uncomfortable? Talk to me –"

"It – fuck – so full," Nick moaned.

"It doesn't hurt?"

Nick shook his head. "No, not hurt, just ... move, I think?"

Jeff very, very gently inched his fingers forward, then backward, then forward again toward the little nub that made Nick cry out with pleasure. He rubbed over it with his middle finger.

"Like that?"

Nick was shaking. "Holy shit, holy shit," he chanted, canting his hips so Jeff's fingers were fucking him. "Oh god, this is – oh god –"

"Oh my god," Jeff said, laughing softly to himself as he moved his fingers to and fro. "You really love this, don't you?"

* * *

Blaine bounced up the stairs to Nick's apartment like a child, his heart so full after his date with Kurt that he could barely stand it. They'd kissed when they left Bean Me Up, then kissed again a block down the sidewalk, and again when they had to part ways, and Blaine wanted to kiss Kurt for the rest of forever.

But Blaine stopped in his tracks halfway down the hall, because not fifteen feet away was Nick's half-open bedroom door, where he could see naked legs and a naked back.

"Don't touch yourself," he heard Jeff growl. "I want to make you come with just my fingers."

"Holy shit," Blaine breathed, ducking into the tiny hallway bathroom. Peeking out, he discovered that his hiding place offered a perfect view of the bottom half of the bed, the top half obscured by the half-closed door. He felt guilty, but was unable to tear his eyes away, instantly aroused, his body tingling awake from a very long sleep. He felt parched. It had been a long time, and friends or no, watching them was like seeing a mirage in a desert. The water was there, right in front of him, but he couldn't drink it. His mouth went dry and, subconsciously, he pressed the heel of his hand against his cock where he was growing hard inside his jeans.

"Jeff – god – there, there, ohhhh –"

Honestly, he thought as he palmed himself, it was like watching a porno – a good porno, he was a little surprised to realize, with nice sounds and nicer bodies – in his own house. Or Nick's, rather. Oh, god, it was Nick's house, and it was Nick's body and Jeff's body, which meant that he was definitely intruding, and he should definitely leave. Right now.

Except, he didn't. He stood there, unable to move, watching wide-eyed as Jeff's fingers dragged in and out of Nick's ass. His cock grew harder as their cries filled his ears, and all he could picture was Kurt, spread out naked and open beneath him, or Kurt, on top of him on all fours, or Kurt, pushing him against the shower wall.

Finally he was brought out of his fantasy world when Nick let out a long, low, guttural groan and came, thick streaks of white come spurting from his cock. Blaine let out the breath he'd been holding and darted quietly toward the door, hearing Jeff gasp out an orgasm as he went. But just as Blaine was about to slip outside, he stopped again, hearing them murmuring to each other in lazy voices.

"Thank you. Thank you, god, I feel so –"

"You're so beautiful; I love you so much – waiting for you was worth every second."

"I can't believe – it really shouldn't feel that good, you know?"

His heart throbbed harder than his dick had at their words, and Blaine carefully exited the apartment, shutting the door silently behind him as he heard them laugh behind the door. His breath came hard and heavy as he stood with his back to the door, the handle grasped in one hand as he glanced down at the bulge in his jeans.

That had just happened. That was not a hallucination. Nick and Jeff were – well, not fucking, but almost, and he'd seen it – he'd watched it – and it had turned him on. A lot. But even more than that, it had made him miss Kurt, want Kurt, with an intensity he hadn't felt in months.

He knew he should feel guilty. He'd just watched two of his best friends in a very private moment, and it had been entirely wrong of him to stay. But the aching loneliness he suddenly felt was stronger than the guilt, even stronger than the feeling of his cock, hard in his jeans. He wanted – he didn't know what he wanted, really. Part of him, the part with the testosterone and the erection and the sex drive wanted to run all the way to his house, reclaim his territory, beg Kurt to fuck him. Or vice versa.

But the rational part of him knew that was a bad idea, knew he should cool off and do – what, he wasn't sure. And then, all of a sudden, he was.

He took a deep breath and turned around, his cock already beginning to soften. With several loud knocks on the door, he opened it a crack.

"Nick?" he called into the apartment. "I'm back – I just need to grab a few things – is Jeff here yet?"

He heard giddy giggling from down the hall, then Nick's voice call out. "Yeah, yeah, hang on a second –"

Blaine stepped into the apartment, staying firmly put in the little entryway, until Nick emerged from his bedroom, a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips, his hair wild.

"Hey," Blaine said, trying to sound casual.

"Hey," Nick grinned. "You, uh, you said you're leaving again?"

Blaine couldn't help but grin back at him. "I can be gone all day if you want me to."

"I, um –" Nick looked down at the floor and started laughing, running a hand through his messy hair. "Shit, I guess it's sort of obvious, huh?"

"A little, yeah. You kind of have that look ..." Blaine willed himself not to blush.

"Man, I never knew – I didn't know it could be like this."

"You love him?"

Nick laughed again. "I – yeah. Like – yeah. Wow. Yes. I love him." His voice, his eyes, were filled with wild, uninhibited joy, joy that Blaine hadn't felt in a very long time.

"Then keep him," Blaine said, forcing his voice to stay steady as he squeezed Nick's bare upper arm. "Don't fuck up like I did."

"Blaine –"

"No, no," he said, holding up a hand. "Don't feel bad. I'm fine. I – I'm great, actually. Kurt and I went on a date this morning, and it was – I'm just gonna – I'm gonna try to write some, actually. I was just coming to get this." He grabbed his laptop from the coffee table, held it up.

Nick's eyes softened. "Good," he said, gentle pride evident in his voice. "Good, I'm glad. I hope it goes well."

"Yeah. Me too." Blaine hugged the laptop to his chest. "Well – enjoy your afternoon."

"Oh, I plan to," Nick said, winking at him. "We'll talk later, yeah?"

Blaine grinned again. "Yeah. I'm happy for you, Nick," he said, patting Nick on the shoulder. "I really, really am."

His heart still felt a little funny as he turned to leave, torn between being overjoyed for his friend, who'd finally found what was in front of him all along, and being sad for himself, because what he wanted was in front of him. He just wasn't exactly sure how to get it back.