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09 August 2011 @ 10:16 am
Glee!fic: Black and White  
Black and White, a Glee! winter fic.
Disclaimer: Oh my god fanfic and you know it, like I even *pretend* I own them.
Rating: NC-17, thank you boys <3
Spoilers: Well, set post-season 2, so be prepared for anything but I don't think there's a single *explicit* spoiler in it.

Summary: Kurt and Blaine do a crossword. Amongst other things.

Note: Hi guys! Been away for a weekender, it was awesome, the music played from 10am to 3am every day and I danced until my legs gave up (dancing in Docs is way harder than I make it look ;P). Then I came back home and the world has gone completely crazy! So have some fluff to make up for it. Real glad I don't still live in London, hope anyone who does live there is safe and well and unhurt, take care guys <3

Kurt's more relieved than he shows when the car is finally still and he can pull the handbrake on in Blaine's driveway. The snow's been swept, here, waist-high in heaps off the roads, and Kurt's dad pretty obsessively winterproofs Kurt's car but all you need is one patch of black ice, just one, no bigger than a footprint, and then Kurt and his boyfriend are just a sad paragraph in the local newspaper and Kurt's boyfriend is really too lovely a creature to die in such a stupid way.

Blaine lets his breath out. Kurt hadn't realised he'd been holding it. "Thank you for getting me home alive. You're my hero, seriously."

Kurt squeezes at the wheel, swallows. "I think I need some coffee before I try that again."

"We're not forecast any more snow." Blaine says, unsnapping his belt, opening the door. "Let me warm you up a bit before you head off into the wilderness again."

Kurt watches him climb down - he's wearing that dark grey woollen coat he just looks devastating in, and Kurt likes little moments when Blaine has his back to him and Kurt can just admire the shape of him in it, before he clicks his own belt open and reaches for the door handle. A cup of coffee. And at least a kiss or two. And he'll be warmed up enough to head back out into it . . .

They bang snow from their shoes on the back doorstep, kick them off on the doormat and push them against the wall (Blaine is conscientious, Kurt is just fussy), hang coats and scarves and Blaine's kitchen is cool and dark, the tiles icy underfoot. "When do they get back?" Kurt says, running a fingertip over the tiny bottles in the spice rack; nothing looks like it's really been touched since he last came here, apart from the cereal packet left on the table with the newspaper open on a half-completed crossword, evidence of Blaine's morning before Kurt picked him up for the movie.

Blaine flicks a switch and bulbs blink and hum alight under all the cabinets. "Monday, if the snow lets up enough for the plane to touch down."

"They really trust you to leave you home alone this long."

"Mm, I've been very boring so far, they just trust that it's going to continue." He flashes Kurt a little grin as he takes a jar of coffee from the fridge, heads for the fancy espresso machine Kurt so wants a duplicate of in his own kitchen one day. In their own kitchen one day. "Actually I think it's part of their ongoing effort to convince themselves that they do trust me. I don't know. It's probably dangerous to think too much about what your parents are actually thinking."

Kurt climbs delicately onto a stool at the breakfast bar, props his head on the knuckles of one hand. "They . . . didn't notice, that time you slept at mine."

Blaine shrugs, snaps the espresso machine into noisy life. "Again: I've so far been very boring so they assume that's how things will always be. Blue mug or Spider-Man mug?"

"Blue." Obviously. "Don't you get lonely?"

"When you text me every three minutes? No."

"What about when I'm not texting?"

"Normally that's only because you're asleep, and I'm usually asleep then too. And dreaming about you, so." Blaine pushes the mug onto the surface in front of Kurt and leans up to kiss his cheek, climbing onto the stool beside him. "Ugh, my toes have gone numb. I'd mind less if I wasn't wearing three pairs of socks."

Their shoulders bump, Blaine's knee is pressed into Kurt's neatly crossed leg. Kurt loves how close Blaine always seems to want to get to him; it makes him feel like he's allowed to get as close as he really wants to as well. He tilts his head a little to be closer to his face, murmurs, "You poor thing, all cold and alone in this big house on your own."

Blaine laughs, lifts the ridiculous Spider-Man mug to drink from it. "It's not quite a 'last puppy in the pound' scenario, my parents went on a mini-break, they didn't abandon me."

"I would never abandon you to go on a mini-break to - to -?"


"Really? I might abandon you to go a mini-break to Florence." Blaine is rolling his eyes, grinning, while Kurt folds his fingers around his mug, almost uncomfortably hot but his cold bones don't want to let go. "But I would miss you. I'd send postcards."

"We could go on a mini-break to Florence."

"We should. We really should. We should put it on the to do list."

"How long is the to do list now?"

"We definitely can't break up before we're sixty if we're going to get through it all."

"Then we won't. And we need at least another thirty years of stuff on there just, you know, to be sure." He drums the tabletop for a second while he thinks. "We should become the oldest gay couple to climb Everest."

"You're complaining about winter in Ohio and you want to climb Everest. Do you know what those temperatures do to your skin?"

"Well, I can become the oldest gay man to climb Everest and you can cheer me on."

"But I won't be there to warm your hands up then."

"Okay, screw Everest." Blaine rubs an eye, one hand around his coffee cup. "Movies make me really sleepy."

"You were completely hyper when we got out, this is just you coming down off your high."

"And all the fear hormones of that drive back."

"I really wouldn't have gotten behind the wheel of the car if I didn't think it was safe. I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

Blaine tips his head, says, "I know you wouldn't." and Kurt looks away from his smile because it's making him blush, but that just makes Blaine laugh and reach for his hand.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," Kurt says quietly. Blaine squeezes his hand, watches his face, doesn't try not to smile. Kurt bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, and laughs, just so slightly, when Blaine leans in to press his teeth off his lip with his tongue, and kisses him.

Kurt's heart beats bird-fast, bird-high. He could do this forever; when Blaine kisses him he feels safe and wanted and loved and like nothing hurts and nothing ever could hurt. His hand finds Blaine's cheek, his breath draws in through his nose, and he feels so lucky he could cry for this boy wanting him, for the way he wants him.

The coffee's getting cold when he manages to pull his head aside a little, breathe into Blaine's cheek, "I have to . . . it'll get dark soon, I." He swallows. "I should go, really."

Blaine stares at him, draws a slow breath in and out, then grins hopefully. "Beautiful, what's your hurry?"

Kurt actually facepalms, slaps a hand over his eyes so he doesn't have to look at him as Blaine bursts out laughing. "Because 'my father will be pacing the floor' quite literally, Blaine, if I'm driving in the snow in the dark-"

"No, no, I know, okay. Come on. Back out into the cold." He takes Kurt's hands in his, says, "At least you're warm again now."

Looking into Blaine's eyes all of Kurt's central heating is glowing inside him. "Yes," he says, still a little dazed by the way Blaine still keeps looking at him; months down the line, is Kurt still so beguiling to him? "I am."


They kiss goodbye on the doorstep and Blaine settles his hands on Kurt's waist, resting on the perfect cupped edges of his hipbones, Kurt's head bent down to his, eyes closed and lovely, all pink and pale with cold. When they break apart their breath streams past them white and they both laugh, startled, before Kurt bristles his shoulders up and Blaine tucks Kurt's scarf back underneath his lapels. "Drive safely. Call me when you get back."

Kurt licks his lips, nods, the smile twitches his mouth. "Something to look forward to when I get in."

He is actually the most adorable human being Blaine could ever dream existed. He pulls him down for another kiss and that gets dragged into another but then with another burst of reluctant mist between their mouths they part again, and Kurt's hand tightens for a second on Blaine's cuff before he turns and picks his way through the snow, careful as a cat, bipping the alarm off on his car. Blaine waits in the doorway, arms huddled around himself, breath huffing around his head while he watches the headlights come on and Kurt snaps his seatbelt on, lifts a hand in a wave, reverses slowly down the drive.

Blaine watches until the car's around a corner and gone before he closes the door behind himself, shakes the cold off sudden and hard. God the winter. Snow is entirely awesome but god the cold. And god he's worried, because Kurt at seventeen is the safest driver he knows but there's the snow, the ice, there's all those other drivers who could plough him right off the road -

Really he wants him on the phone, to talk to him and know he's okay the whole time until he's safe at home again, but clearly the last thing Blaine ought to be doing is distracting him. He wanders through the house a bit, not really thinking, cell clutched warm in one hand, not even aware he's holding it. Then he decides to play some Final Fantasy to take his mind off it.

An hour later when he's thinking about food as soon as he gets to a good pausing point his cell goes off on the carpet by his twitching foot. He catches the phone up in his hand and props it between ear and shoulder to play on. "Hey, home safe?"

"No. Nowhere near. Stuck in traffic, a truck managed to skid itself across the entire road, they've closed it off."

Blaine pauses the game, drops the control to take the phone in his hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm wonderful." Kurt sighs down the line. "I'm bored and frustrated and out of CDs to listen to but I'm fine, honestly. I just - don't know when they're going to clear this up."

"Jeez. It's-" Blaine checks out of the window, where the light is falling, thick winter gloom coming in quick; Kurt should be home by now, and safe and warm and curled up on his bed talking to Blaine while Blaine button-mashes and Kurt tells him he'll get an RSI and then will he think beating his own high score is worth it? (Yes.) "It's getting dark."

Kurt sighs, again. "So . . . I called my dad. Um. The options are either I wait in this tailback for as long as it takes -"

"You will actually die of hypothermia."

"I have the heating on, I'll live. Or, I take the back roads back-"

"Do not take the back roads in this weather, god Kurt-"

"That is the exact tone of voice that he said exactly that in," Kurt murmurs. "Or, um. If you don't - and if your parents don't mind, if you want to call and - if you don't-"

"Come back here," Blaine says, pleadingly. "It's cold and it's not safe and it's getting dark. Come back now."

". . . thank you. If I can turn around, I'll be about half an hour, okay?"

"I'll be waiting by the door. Drive - really, really carefully, okay?"

"A million times more carefully than that trucker, anyway. I'll see you soon, okay? Thank you."

It comes out of his throat in one painful lump. "I love you."

"I love you too," Kurt says, sings, and hangs up. Blaine lowers his phone, stares at it for a moment, goes to the window to check how quickly the light is dying; the opaque clouds are darkening blue, and the shadows on the snow are a deep muted lilac. It would be incredibly beautiful if it couldn't potentially kill his boyfriend.

He's not used to not being able to do anything for Kurt when Kurt's in some kind of trouble. Normally he can say something, get in his car and be there for him, at least be someone Kurt can hold. Right now he's useless, right now he's nothing, he can't even text, trapped in some awful limbo of an inheld breath until Kurt's here and Blaine can touch him and know he's alright. Already it's darker, nights tuck themselves in neat and fast in winter. And Blaine thinks, You should be happy, you should be looking forward to a whole night of him, but all he can think about is -

Dark icy roads and skidding wheels and for some reason wolves. Are there wolves in Ohio? He watches too many vintage werewolf movies. Kurt says that, anyway, curls his legs underneath himself and continuously texts the girls while they're on. If Kurt comes back safe then Blaine will never make him sit through another eighties werewolf movie again, not even the ones with the really good bad special effects. They'll watch a thousand musicals and Blaine will never hit the peak of too many high kicks and need to roll face-down on the carpet pulling his hair for a bit. He will enjoy it because it makes Kurt happy. He will enjoy all things that make Kurt happy. Even rabid sale shopping. Even queuing for the stores to open for rabid sale shopping. He will never complain about anything again.

Blaine's sort of unused to needing anyone. There's his parents, but he still thinks of his parents as essentially untouchable - he knows that Kurt does not think the same way, but Blaine can't make the idea of losing either of them real, they are there the way that brick walls and January are just really, really there. He loves the Warblers, but he does know that they need him a lot more than he collectively needs them. It's better to be needed than needing; it's safer, at least. Kurt -

It is so strange that this became this. Blaine wanted to help Kurt, and then wanted to just keep knowing him because he's so awesome, and then Kurt was like, his best friend and Blaine had never really had a best friend, just like, friends, and then Blaine just realised - oh, hi, wow, you're actually perfect, aren't you? The parts of you that aren't perfect just make you even more perfect. And you are really ungodly attractive, why did I not notice that before. Can I please touch you actually all the time, would that be okay?

Blaine needs Kurt. He understands that, looking out of that window while the snow turns crisp and razor-bright underneath the darkening sky; he needs Kurt. Without Kurt he doesn't exist, he's just a performing blazer being what other people expect him to be, with Kurt he feels - free, and accepted, and loved, and cherished. He needs Kurt. He can't go back to the little he had before, he never knew his life was so thin until Kurt brought the whole colourful clamorous world in with him.

I need you. I really do. I know I only ever say 'I love you' but that's just because that's the socially acceptable way of saying 'oh fuck oh Christ I need you, please god don't leave me'. But, Kurt? Oh fuck oh Christ I need you. Please, god, don't leave me. Please.

"You are being overdramatic," he says out loud, in case that helps.

It mostly doesn't.

When it does start snowing again, Blaine thinks, numb with despair, of praying. A couple of generations back his father's side were Catholic, he feels like what he got out of those genes is a buttlot of internalised guilt and the occasional desperate belief that he can repent at any moment and fix things. He's not sure what he's repenting for, though. He genuinely does not believe that any god could exist who could make him gay and hate him for it, he thinks that people are basically just confused about that. So what can he renounce in himself? He does try to be good, he really does. Pride, probably. Definitely, actually. Lustful thoughts, oh, yes, he's dating Kurt. He knows that his biggest failing, the part of himself that hurts other people the most, is occasional stupidity but nowhere in the Bible has he read a denunciation of stupidity. Apparently being an idiot isn't a sin. Meekness and charity and plenty of things he can admire get good write-ups, but he just doesn't remember reading any praise of intelligence in there.

Dear God, give me my boyfriend back alive and unhurt and I will - I will -

He's not Kurt, he's not angry about it, he just can't dredge any belief up in himself, however hard he tries.

Dear Kurt, if you come back to me safe then I will do anything for you and you know I will and I always will, forever and ever amen.


It's those huge movie snowflakes, big and wet as torn-up tissue, wadding up on the wipers as he pulls into Blaine's driveway again. Blaine's in the doorway, idiot boy, snow in his hair as Kurt cuts the headlights off and opens the door, steps down, says, "There was no need for you to freeze your ass o-"

It ends in a yelp as his boot skids, but Blaine's already flung his arms around him, banging both of them into the cold side of the car. His thrumming chest strains against Kurt's, and Kurt stares at him bewildered, his body still too tense from the slip. "Are you alright?"

"I really worried," Blaine says, and Kurt stares at him, just doesn't understand. He lifts a hand, ruffles the snow out of Blaine's hair.

"You're frozen. We should get inside."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Tired, driving in this is a bitch." He waves a hand at the falling snow, and a flake catches in his lashes, falls freezing to his cheek when he blinks in shock. He wipes it off with a palm. "Can we go inside before you actually get hypothermia-?"

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes."

"I have to call my dad and tell him I got back safe."

Blaine's still got his arms sort of locked around Kurt, making getting inside more difficult than it should be; they shuffle like crabs, claws caught, through the snow. Kurt's too confused to be annoyed, and it's sort of nice to be held like this anyway, and it is very much not like he's unused to finding Blaine bafflirritating. Which really ought to be a word for how often Blaine inspires the feeling in him.

Inside, it's uncomfortably hot in all his layers. He unwinds his scarf, drapes it around Blaine's neck instead because the idiot was standing there in a sweatshirt and no coat even. "I feel like I need to babysit you half the time," Kurt says, shrugging his coat off, laying it around Blaine's shoulders; Blaine blinks up at him, holds it on with his arms crossed around his chest.

"Sorry. I worried."

"Don't worry about me. Aren't I always fine?"

"That means I always have something to worry about," Blaine murmurs, and Kurt doesn't understand, just sighs, brushes Blaine's wet hair back and kisses his forehead, slipping his cell out of the coat pocket hanging at Blaine's side. "Warm up. Behave." He skims through the menu, calls his dad, leaning against the wall to pull his shoelaces open with one hand.

The phone clicks alive against his ear. "Hey, Kurt, you made it safe?"

"Mm-hm. I could feel your worry-vibes, though. Do not get stressed. We have rules about your getting stressed. You do the breathing exercises and you do not stress."

"There are things parents worry about, Kurt."

"There are things kids worry about, Dad." Blaine shuffles over, drapes himself over Kurt while Kurt's bent down to pull at a boot; Blaine likes being able to engulf him. "Do you want me to call later on?"

His dad sighs down the line. "No, in the morning's fine. Why do you sound muffled?"

Crammed in Blaine's embrace with his own hanging coat cutting him off from the world, Kurt says, "No reason," and Blaine's body shakes over his with silent laughter.

Boots off and coat and scarf properly hung this time, Blaine takes his hand and pulls him through the house for the lounge with the real fireplace, all ready laid to be lit. Kurt feels shy, suddenly, of a whole night with Blaine opening ahead of him; they've never had a whole night together as boyfriends, never had the opportunity, certainly not alone . . . Blaine seems giddier, delighted now Kurt's back, and Kurt wonders how much he really did worry. He wasn't in any danger, certainly not at his own hands. There are other drivers but there's not a lot he can do about them, and he isn't particularly given to worrying; there is not a lot you can do about the bad in life apart from enjoy the good in it.

Blaine crouches at the fireplace, opens a box of matches, and Kurt stands uncertainly at his back, arms wrapped around himself. "Did - you call your parents? Are they okay with it?"

"They made frequent mentions of the guest room and where the sheets are kept as if I didn't know that." Blaine glances over his shoulder, grins, strikes a match. "Um. There is the guest room, if you . . . want it."

Something runs up Kurt's back like it's alive and many-legged. "- I -"

Blaine pushes the fireguard in and stands up, dusting his hands off; lighting a ready-laid fire is not so messy, and Kurt knows it's mostly nerves. He looks right into Kurt's eyes in that earnest way he does, usually before he offers far, far too much information in a way that he genuinely intends to be caring. "I am seriously not suggesting anything you might not be comfortable with, but," he grabs helplessly at the air with an extremely unillustrative hand, "I mean, we have shared a bed before, just to sleep, and it's cold out and cuddling is nice and I, uh, think it would be nice. But that's your decision. Anything, everything is your decision." He clears his throat a bit, and Kurt stares into his eyes and thinks, Oh my god what am I dating. Why can't he be a normal boy. Why can't he just - grope me and make it easy, a yes or no in the moment, why does he want me to think and decide, I don't want to decide, I don't want to think about it.

He draws his breath in, slowly, through his nose. "What colour is your guest room?"

"Sort of peach."

Kurt wrinkles his nose. "Oh. No. So not my colour. It makes me look - no. That's not happening."

Blaine's starting to smile again. "My room's blue."

"I know it is."

Blaine takes his hand. "You look amazing in blue."

The fire hushes the room, like it wants to listen very closely. Blaine's eyes are very dark, very fixed on him, his face very quiet and intense. Kurt swallows, says huskily, "So do you."

Blaine is stupidly attractive in such unhelpful ways. Kurt swallows again because he has to, opening his mouth, trying to find something to save himself with; he croaks, "Cookies."

Blaine blinks. "What?"

"We could make cookies. We, we have a whole night, it might get dull."

And suddenly Blaine is trying to contain the six year old boy going nuclear happy inside him. "What kind of cookies?"

"I don't know, what ingredients do you have?"

"I don't know. Let's go find out!" He's almost bouncing. God, what has Kurt unleashed? "Do you need a recipe? Is there just one recipe for cookies or are there different ones? Can we eat them warm? With milk? Can I take photos to send to the Warblers to make them jealous?"

"We could make extra for them."

"Best. Night. Ever."

God, Kurt's boyfriend. Dragged off by the hand again, for the kitchen this time, Kurt skips a little to keep up with Blaine's excited stride and says into the back of his neck, "You are such a little boy sometimes."

"You love me." Blaine says, calm and happy with that knowledge. What is Kurt meant to say to that? He murmurs, Blaine will never know how helplessly, "I do."

"I love you too, you're amazing. And your cookies are like, heaven in the form of baked goods."

"Blaine -"

Back onto the cold tiles of the kitchen floor and Blaine glances back at him, bright and eager. Kurt forgets what he was going to say, kisses him instead.


They make all the cookies in the world.

It turns out there are like, hundreds of recipes and Kurt knows some off by heart and they get the rest from the internet. They make big soft chocolate chip ones (Kurt has Blaine chop up the chocolate for the chips, and leans over scowling to wipe it off his mouth and warns him for the fourth time about eating their ingredients) and chewy oatmeal raisin ones and these little intense coffee ones all crisp on the outside and squishy on the inside. Like Kurt.

Blaine eats a lot of dough. Seriously, a lot-lot.

Afterwards, in the headachy buzz as he comes down from the sugar high, they collapse in front of the fire - Blaine on the floor propped back against the sofa, Kurt curled up in the corner of it with his arms around himself and his eyes low and drowsy and satisfied - and Blaine hugs a guitar over his poor abused stomach, strumming odd little riffs out.

Kurt murmurs, "You eat a hell of a lot for someone so small."

"I have a hyperactive metabolism."

"You have a hyperactive everything, Blaine."

"I'm being quiet now."

"That's because if you jumped all over the place right now the contents of your stomach would explode. Which would be disgusting." Kurt puts a hand over a yawn. "The nutritional content of our last 'meal' was pretty negligible."

"We have the rest of our lives," Blaine says, picking out a handful of notes, "to eat salad." He pats the strings silent with a palm. "Hey, do you want to meet my petulant fourteen year old self?"

Kurt lifts his head a little, trying to keep his smile small but Blaine can see the amusement bright in his eyes. "I would like nothing more."

Blaine strums at the guitar for a bit. "This is a song I wrote on an off-the-grid Easter vacation with my parents by some lake in the middle of nowhere, which was really awesome actually until I broke a guitar string and there wasn't a store within three hours that sold anything apart from fishing bait and camping stoves, and I developed Angst." He looks up at Kurt's increasing failure not to grin and flashes a little grin back. "You have to imagine the slightly funky sound it's meant to have because I don't want to actually unstring my E for it. It's called The Broken String Blues."

Kurt holds it pretty well together, just watching him grinning sharp and delighted with his arms wrapped tight around himself, until Blaine gets to, "Screw you Mom this is a sucky holiday, I'd rather be at home on my Xbox anyway." when he loses it with a spectacular snort, hands flying up to cover his nose, collapsing onto his side, shrieking with laughter while Blaine gets through the last verse, the one his dad grounded him for as soon as they got home. Blaine, reunited with a restringed guitar and at that time unaware that Kurt existed and that he wasn't spending time with him, didn't care.

"Oh my god."

"I really could do off-the-grid if I had a supply of guitar strings. It felt really, I don't know, wholesome."

Kurt picks himself up from his hugged-in collapse on his side on the sofa, touches his hair to check it hasn't shifted too drastically. "Wholesome like a bowl of cookie dough for dinner."

"Wholesome like kissing you makes me feel. Like, right. All is well with the world."

Kurt's smile softens, and Blaine just looks at him for a moment, looking at Kurt looking at him, and thinks how wholesome it all does feel; Kurt makes him feel healthy, balanced, right. Then he says, "Do you want to hear what Lola sounds like on the mandolin?"

Kurt's smile flicks amused again. "Are you capable of moving to fetch the mandolin?"

Blaine puts a hand over his stomach, screws his eyes up and rests the guitar back against the sofa. "Give me five minutes. Why didn't you stop me eating so much?"

"I tried. Repeatedly. I said, quote, if you keep eating so dough much you will throw up and I will not hold your hair back for you, unquote." Kurt leans forwards, brushes his fingers back through Blaine's hair. "I probably still would anyway, though, because I'm a pushover like that."

"And because you love me?"

Kurt's hands catch his cheeks, his fingers slip under his jaw, tilting Blaine's head back so he can whisper to his mouth, "Yes," and lean down to kiss him. He is really impossibly sexy sometimes, half a step ahead of Blaine and sometimes so out of the blue sure in his sensuality, like he knows Blaine's going to keel over and drool because of course he is. And he does, partly because Kurt can knock him sideways with a single smouldering glance, and partly because Kurt knowing that somehow makes it ten trillion times sexier; Kurt actually knowing that Blaine's knees give sometimes just from looking at him makes arousal gnaw warm at his stomach.

On the other hand, Kurt is essentially trapped in this house right now and is never a hundred percent clear on where he lays his physical boundaries and Blaine would rather die - fuck the entire potential rest of his life because it means nothing in comparison, he would rather die - than make Kurt feel threatened or frightened or used about this. Also if they do attempt sex right now Blaine's stomach really might rupture. The sudden upswing in temperature might cook all that dough in his stomach and split his guts. Then Blaine really will be dead and Kurt will be so grossed out, and it probably wouldn't be worth all that. Probably?

So he tilts his head sideways out from under Kurt's, carefully so he can't chin him in the nose, and says, "I should go get that mandolin."

Kurt says, "Screw the mandolin." and slithers off the sofa, one knee thumping off the floor and the other bumping off Blaine's leg before sliding to the carpet which means, while Kurt holds Blaine's face and kisses him hungrily and Blaine's hands pull his sweater (deep green, baggy, cashmere, gorgeous) taut at its sides, that he's straddling Blaine's leg and Blaine's body -

Gives this little helpless upwards surge of want before he hauls himself back appalled, one hand hitting the floor to keep himself upright, but Kurt doesn't even seem to have noticed, just kisses him deeper. He eventually pulls his breath in with a little high noise against Blaine's cheek and leans back, flushed and looking mostly surprised, mostly at himself. He sits back on his heels with a little flump and stares at Blaine, mouth open like the last thing he expected either of them to do was that.

Blaine licks his lips, stares at him. He can't hear anything apart from some heavy rhythm that might be his heart or in all honesty might be the pulse of blood between his legs. He manages to make himself breathe again. He puts a grin on, says, "What was in those cookies?"

Kurt puts a hand over his mouth, coughs delicately, picks himself up. "Are you still planning on giving them out to a roomful of Warblers?"

"Oh god. That would be - funny, in an apocalyptic sort of way. Maybe I'll just have to eat them all to spare them the fallout."

Kurt stands up, arms wrapped around himself and swinging his weight a little left and right, embarrassed now of his own boldness. "Hey," Blaine says, catching his arm and taking his hand, pulling at it a little. "What's wrong?"

Kurt looks at the sofa. "I don't know. It feels - it, it." He closes his eyes. "It means something different. When we're the only ones in the house. It - it means something different, I don't know."

Blaine stares up Kurt's own arm at his face. He tries to understand, tries to read his face, embarrassed and awkward and maybe scared, and Blaine can't bear that. "Hey," he says, and tugs Kurt's hand a little. "It's okay. We're okay. We're always okay."

We don't judge each other. We're honest, and we don't play games, and we don't judge. And if you are not comfortable about making out in my house when my parents aren't here then that's cool; it's neither here nor there that you initiated it because people have feelings and they change their minds so you don't have anything to be embarrassed about. It's cool, and I love you, and if you love me too then everything is okay, okay?

Kurt squirms his shoulder up, hunches his head lower, meets Blaine's eyes looking so humiliated. He still isn't comfortable even talking about talking about sex. Blaine rubs the back of his hand and says, "Come outside and make a snowman with me."

That one shocked note of laughter comes out before Kurt can even lift a hand to hide it. Blaine grins. Kurt closes his eyes, shakes his head like he doesn't ever believe him, smiles.


Outside everything is so starkly black and white, crystalline with cold. It's no longer snowing; they roll clumsy globes of fresh snow, hiking with frozen hands to get them on top of each other, sagging with laughter like the torso does when the overlarge head collapses the snowman in front of them. They start again.

Kurt hasn't made a snowman since he was a lot shorter than Blaine and his dad helped him then, and did not understand the importance of the snowman's accessories and how not just any hat would do. Blaine does. They kit it out beautifully; camel scarf, sheepskin gloves on its stick hands, sky blue hat with a small subtle pattern of snowflakes. They raid the kitchen for its face, find a carrot and use grapes for its eyes and mouth. The cold is incredible, especially once it's got right through the bones of Kurt's fingers; he pulls his scarf up over his mouth, huddles in it, while Blaine sings, "In the meadow we will build a snowman-"

Kurt tugs the scarf down with one finger to join in; their voices catch some eerie harmony in the empty night, ring off the snow as big and clear as bells. "-he'll say, Are you married? We'll say, No man-"

Blaine catches his hand and Kurt catches his waist and they dance around each other for one verse until Kurt laughs just because he's so happy and Blaine kisses him. Warmth. Blaine lets go of his hand, walks off apparently in search of fresh snow, taking care with each footprint to emphasise that delicious crumping noise underfoot; Kurt puts his head back and turns, slowly, because there are crazy amounts of stars up there in the blue-black sky. The cold has eaten up through his feet and legs, every finger hurts with it and the skin on his face is stinging and he's just absurdly, throat-cloggingly happy, because against all of the odds, relying on every fragile coincidence, every bare scrap of luck in the world, he's here, with Blaine, they found each other in the massive chaos of the human race and Blaine loves him and oh god life -

The snow makes a little paf noise as it bursts against the side of his head. He blinks, and lowers his arms, and turns to Blaine with a look of What the hell did you just do?

"I'm so sorry," Blaine says, standing there with snow on his gloves and a smile flexing between smug and a little scared. "You were just - I couldn't resist. Kurt? You look . . . I'm really, really sorry?"

"My hair," Kurt says, and stoops to scoop up snow. Blaine scrabbles off into a run but Kurt has longer legs, and wrath. They circuit the house twice, Blaine yelping when Kurt does manage a hit (he's got pretty good aim, but ridiculously small moving targets are difficult), Kurt shrieking when he skids on snow.

"Stay still so I can maul you!"

"Not a compelling proposition, Kurt!"

"Do not tell me you don't deserve it!"

"I'm so sorry!"

"Then why are you laughing?"

Blaine's laughter runs behind him like the loose end of a scarf. And then Kurt's foot catches wrong in an old footprint in the snow, an echo of their earlier circuit of the house, and he goes down with a little scream.

He lays on his back, panting, heart thrumming inside him, hot inside all his layers after the running. He can hear the quick scuff of Blaine through the snow, hurrying towards him - "Kurt, are you okay? You're not-?"

As soon as he's in range, Kurt grabs his ankle and pulls.

By the time they stagger back into the house, snow caught in their hair and still giggling in little explosive, uncontrollable bursts, the clock in the kitchen shows midnight. In the doorway they pat the snow off each other, brushing down shoulders and backs and ruffling each others' hair - Kurt wrinkles his nose up, eyes squeezed closed, and Blaine grins so broad. "You should try this look out more often. Snow is cheaper than product."

"Oh you lecturing me on too much product, really Blaine." Kurt brushes Blaine's wet hair off his forehead. "Look at all this. I could sculpt Mount Rushmore out of it."

"That would be awesome. Get photos for me."

"You are ridiculous. And sopping wet."

"You too. Hot shower time, I think."

Kurt curls cold toes in his boots, winces. "I didn't bring a change of clothes."

"You can borrow mine."

"They won't fit."

Blaine rolls his eyes. "I have some longer pants, they'll fit. Ish. Let's find you some pyjamas."

Kurt licks his lips, brushes the back of his neck where melting snow is beginning to run down from his hair, and feels the reality of their situation close around them again. Alone, in this house, in the night, and they both have bodies, and bodies want things. But Blaine takes Kurt's hand, smiles a warm little smile, heads off for the staircase with Kurt following him simultaneously wanting to put his arms around him because Blaine makes him feel safe and nervous of him because they both have bodies and being human is just terrifying, sometimes.

In his bedroom Blaine sorts through drawers and comes up with a little pile of clothing. "Transformers pyjamas?"

Kurt just stares at him. Blaine hunches his shoulders, grinning nervously. "My parents never know what to buy me for Christmas? So they usually fixate on whatever movie I was last into and, um." He stares up at Kurt, big pleading eyes like the puppy not wanting to be told off about the tooth marks on the chair leg, presses his lips together for a second and says, "I am wearing Iron Man underwear."

Something in Kurt tightens so hard. Blaine's eyes beseech but it's just not possible not to; he laughs until it aches, closes his arms around Blaine and thumps his head onto his shoulder and laughs until his eyes are wet, while Blaine's mouth twitches a lot before it just falls into the grin. "I'm so glad that I can rely on my boyfriend to never belittle me."

Kurt says, "You are wearing Iron Man underwear. I don't have to do the belittling, Blaine."

"Awesome movie, though."

Kurt rubs his cheek into Blaine's still-damp shoulder. "I love you," he says helplessly, because he does, this hopeless, ridiculous creature halfway between a boy and a man and just so sincere and so, so sweet. One of Blaine's hands lifts, and slides into his hair, warm at the back of his head.

"I love you too." he says, soft and meant. "Even when you mock my underwear. So, Transformers pyjamas?"

Kurt stands back up, wipes his eyes, sighs happily. "No. I would wear barbed wire first."

Blaine lifts the other bundle of clothing. "Dalton gym kit?"

Kurt smiles, takes the offered t-shirt and sweat pants. "Thank you."

"You're sure I can't tempt you with pyjamas designed for twelve year olds."

"No, Blaine, thank you, but I wouldn't want to deny you the pleasure of them."

"You're still mocking me."

I love everything about you. Do you know that? Even the parts I probably shouldn't, somehow especially those parts. I just love all of you with all of me. I didn't think love would be so complete but you're in every part of my life now, it all got bigger to accommodate you, how small was it before?

"I'll be less grumpy after a shower. Can I borrow shampoo?"

Blaine smiles, one of his honest, happy smiles, always soft when he looks at Kurt. "Come on, I'll show you to the guest bathroom. Mom has those mini-toiletry things in there."

". . . can I still borrow yours? I like the smell."

Blaine catches his eye surprised, and then looks so pleased, and Kurt's heart hurts with too much feeling sometimes. "Sure. Come on. Towels!"

Alone in a strange bathroom, Kurt peels unpleasant layers off himself - snow-damp on top, sweat-damp deeper down - and squirms on the tiles. He has nothing to change into tomorrow, he'll have to borrow more of Blaine's clothes to get home in. They don't, generally, share clothing; they have very different styles, of course, and very firm ideas on those styles, and normally Kurt really wouldn't want to wear Blaine's polo shirts and cardigans but -

He lifts the soft worn t-shirt to his face, breathes in slowly. It smells of the Andersons' laundry detergent, and when he inhales deeper, concentrating hard, it smells of Blaine, warm and clean and comforting. He puts his cheek into it, hugs it close. It smells like safety.


Blaine grabs a very quick shower because he needs to be downstairs and doing things for Kurt. In embarrassing pyjamas, socks and robe he hurries back to the lounge to poke the fire back into life, and then heads into the kitchen because Kurt likes warm milk before bed. It's a fact that Blaine finds hopelessly endearing, something childish and vulnerable in an otherwise very poised and mature boy. He finds a saucepan, pours in milk, sets it on a low heat. The smallest things make Kurt happy - Blaine remembering his coffee order, brushing lint from his shoulder, such small considerations really. Blaine loves making Kurt happy. He could make a lifelong project of it, working small, surprised, honest smiles out of Kurt's composed face. Kurt is always surprised by Blaine making him happy; he's clearly used to being the only person responsible for his own happiness, and is startled every time by any stupid little thing Blaine does. Blaine makes sure to do a lot of stupid little things.

It's a good thing Blaine does leave the milk on a low heat, Kurt takes forever to shower, Blaine really should have guessed that. He hears his approach only when he's low on the stairs, his socked feet padding soft on the carpet. Blaine sticks his head out of the kitchen doorway, smiles at him. "I'm making warm milk."

Kurt, wearing Blaine's t-shirt and sweat pants, still flushed with the warmth of the shower, smiles immediately and Blaine grins delighted back. He has his arms wrapped around himself, he must be cold; Blaine shrugs his robe off and puts it around Kurt instead. "Go sit in front of the fire, I'll be through in a bit."

Kurt wriggles his shoulders under the towelling of Blaine's robe, arms still folded, head a little ducked. He says, "Nutmeg."


"In the milk. Just a little. Please."

"Okay." Blaine leans up and kisses him. "Go warm up, I'll be quick."

Nutmeg; it smells delicious. He decants into two mugs and heads back through to the lounge, where Kurt is curled up on the sofa with sleepy eyes on the fireplace, hiding a yawn behind a hand. Blaine climbs on the sofa next to him and hands him a mug and they shuffle and pull at the robe to get it around the both of them, sitting huddled close for it to reach.

Kurt's shuffled himself down to get his head on Blaine's shoulder; Blaine can feel his heartbeat, steady against Blaine's arm. Blaine takes a sip of milk and says, "When we live in New York what will we do about holidays?"

"We'll have to alternate," Kurt murmurs, instantly understanding the question and clearly two steps ahead on planning. "Keep switching Christmas and Thanksgiving. One with your family and one with mine."

"We should stick to New York for New Year."

"Mm. Time Square."

You will be the first and last person I kiss, every year. The thought pleases Blaine absurdly. He loves every holiday, little days set aside to make the year more fun. And this year he'll have someone to share Valentine's Day with and not just 'someone' but Kurt, it will become the best holiday ever, he needs to do something epic for it. Stupid little things make Kurt happy; big things make him wear that expression like he doesn't know what to do with all his feelings, and Blaine just wants, wants, he wants too much all the time around Kurt . . .

The fire pops in the grate, and Blaine settles his arm closer around Kurt's side. He's forgotten his earlier panic, already he thinks that a trucker skidding on the ice is just the best thing that ever happened, because he has Kurt here, Kurt's cheek pressed to his shoulder, Kurt whispering, "Building a snowman is hard work."

"I think all the running was the hard work."

"For you, maybe, your legs have to work harder."

Blaine swallows a mouthful of milk. "Funny. Hilarious. Side-splitting."

"You snowballed me. I get mocking privileges for a month after that."

"A week."

"Two weeks."

"Deal." His hair is still damp but Blaine nuzzles into it anyway. He smells like Kurt and like Blaine's shampoo, and his boyfriend in his house, in his clothes, scented with his own soap makes Blaine feel strangely - not exactly possessive, but . . . secure. Like Kurt's not going anywhere. He's not, Blaine has him all night, and Kurt lifts his head a little to take a sip of milk and Blaine keeps an arm around his side. Secure, like they are meant to be here, exactly here. Kurt won't leave him, Kurt won't get scared and back off, not ever; Kurt's the bravest person Blaine's ever met, brave enough to love Blaine, Kurt is his hero.

"Hey," Blaine says.

Kurt murmurs, very sleepy on his shoulder now, "Hm?"

Blaine squeezes the hug tighter. "You are my favourite person. In the whole world."

Kurt's silent for a second, then says, "You are five years old on the inside." His knuckles skim down Blaine's side. "You're my favourite too. You are the best thing that ever happened to me."

Being loved is astonishing every day, it never becomes normal, it's always this astoundingly beautiful boy acting like Blaine makes his life better. How can you get used to that? Blaine needs Kurt; but he feels needed in return, Kurt holding onto his arm and turning his forehead into Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine settles his arm closer around him, and thinks that monogamy is the sexiest thing he knows. Isn't this intimacy and this knowledge just so much more than the quick and gone fireworks of a first meeting?

Kurt yawns again. Blaine kisses the top of his head and says, "You're tired."


"Come to bed."


"You're adorable when you're sleepy."

Kurt huffs a sigh against his shoulder. Blaine takes his mug from him, clinks the both of them together onto the coffee table. Kurt mumbles, "Wash up."

"In the morning. Come on." He tugs him up by the hand and Kurt instantly buries his face in his shoulder again, like he likes life better from there.



Kurt's finger tighten in his sleeve. "Love you."

So strange that the strongest and bravest boy Blaine knows relies on him for anything at all, and Blaine knows he must be worth more than he sometimes thinks to be this to Kurt. "I love you too, Kurt. Come on, sleeping beauty, bed . . ."

"You're an idiot," Kurt tells him, pressing his cheek against Blaine's shoulder, eyes closed, letting Blaine lead his footsteps.

"I'm your idiot."

"You're my very favourite idiot." Kurt smiles without opening his eyes. "The best idiot I know."

"That is enough for me," Blaine says calmly, and leads him upstairs, step by slow step, so Kurt never has to lift his head from his apparently so soothing shoulder.


Kurt wakes up, and everything smells of Blaine.

He makes his eyelids open, slowly, on someone else's pillow, and there he is - the most beautiful boy in the world, sleeping with his mouth open just next to Kurt, all sleep-mussed and lovely. The next of his pyjama shirt is crooked and Kurt can see the beginning of the curve of his shoulder, warm living skin, and under the blankets their legs are tangled from the knees down, Blaine's ankle over Kurt's shin and his foot feels dead from lack of blood. It's worth it.

He tries to fight the yawn but can't, and at the movement Blaine screws his face up a little and rolls his body out, mumbling something, shuffling himself closer into Kurt and slipping his arm over his waist. Kurt smiles, wraps an arm around Blaine's back and curls his fingers against his neck, tilts his forehead down to Blaine's. Blaine laughs a little under his breath, and this is the best morning ever. Kurt rolls his body a little closer into Blaine's, he just wants to touch every warm inch of him he can, hip to hip and he feels -

That's not Blaine's hip that's pressing against his.

Kurt goes rigid. Blaine sucks his breath in and his entire body cringes back off him. "Oh - sorry. Sorry, sorry, god, it just - it does that, in a morning, I - oh god. Sorry."

Kurt whispers, before thinking about whether he means it or not, "It's okay."

Blaine puts his hands over his eyes and moans and rolls so his back is to Kurt. "Sorry, I'm so sorry, oh god I'm so sorry-"

Kurt closes his eyes for a second, and feels the shudder run through him and die. "It's okay," he whispers, and then softer, understanding the words, meaning them, "Blaine, it's okay."

Blaine hunches there on his side, hands over his face, and if there was enough light to see it with the curtains closed, Kurt knows he's blushing harder even than Kurt is right now. Kurt swallows again. What he mostly thinks is - it turns out that Blaine really does have a penis. And Kurt just touched it, accidentally and through two layers of clothing but still. And the world didn't end. He's surprised by that part; Blaine really is another boy, there's the physical proof of it, and Kurt just touched him, and the sky did not cave in on them. He feels bewildered. What has he been afraid of for so long?

Every shove into a locker, every dumpster-dumping, every thrown slushie, every glance of hatred and contempt, every shout and every mutter, every time he's been made to feel like he deserves what people do to him - because of this. Because of exactly this, that little touch, because Kurt likes boys and the sky won't fall on him if he actually does anything about that, and other people can't bear that. Even Kurt's hypothetical desires are punishable offences. He must not want. He must never want; if he ever did want he's buried and stamped it down so deep in himself and looked the other way and ignored it desperately and pretended it away so hard like maybe that will make them stop - but they're never going to stop, and nor will the sky cave in on him if he ignores them instead of ignoring the want. They don't want him to want this, they're scared of him wanting this, but so suddenly, Kurt's not afraid anymore, Kurt's not ashamed. Embarrassed and flustered and shocked, but not scared, and not ashamed.

Quite turned on, actually. Hot and hollow in his stomach: he wants.

"It's okay," he says, stronger this time, and he touches Blaine's back. "Blaine. It's okay."

Blaine lets his breath out, slow and heavy and groaned. Kurt presses himself closer, puts an arm around Blaine again, and the hair at the back of Blaine's neck shivers a little under Kurt's breath. Kurt turns his head down a little, hair tickling the side of his nose, and touches Blaine's side; it stiffens and then forcibly relaxes under his touch. "It's okay," he whispers, and his heart is beating so hard he doesn't know how Blaine doesn't hear it. "Blaine?"

Blaine makes a miserable questioning noise from behind the hands still pressed over his face. Kurt swallows, and lets his palm move a little lower down to Blaine's waist, until the hand's intended route is as obvious as it can get. "Is - this okay?"

Silence, and stillness. Kurt swallows again and his body is nearly vibrating with want and fear now, but he doesn't move, not until Blaine peels his hands free and looks at him over his own shoulder, his eyes enormous with surprise. Kurt quickly wets his lips and checks Blaine's face - mostly he just looks confused - and says, his voice surprising him with how low it comes out, "May I?"

Blaine's mouth is open but he clearly has no clue what to say. Kurt swallows, again, his mouth is so dry and his hand grips Blaine's waist and it's not enough but it's already so much, Blaine's body warm and alive under his palm. "You can say no," he whispers, and if Blaine says no it will crush him but that's for Kurt to deal with. But he can see in the same second that Blaine's not going to say no, because in that second, Blaine finally understands that he means it.

Blaine whispers, still looking stunned, "Okay."


He nods, eyes pinned by Kurt's. "Okay."

Kurt closes his eyes for a second, and tightens his grip on Blaine's hip, and feels Blaine's body quiver a little bit. He slips his hand around the top of his pyjama pants, feels the quickening rise of his breath, and, barely believing he's doing it, slips his fingers in underneath the waistband. Warm skin contracts from his and then Blaine lets his breath out again with a shudder, and Kurt's fingers find - hair, and hot raised flesh.

It fits into his hand the way he really he should have known it would, it's baffling that something he has is so alien in this moment. He shuffles himself closer to Blaine's back, licks his lips again, burying his eyes into Blaine's hair because he can't see what he's doing anyway so he'd rather just breathe in Blaine. Blaine's breath is coming quicker every second now, as Kurt first of all just feels, learning the length and weight of him, before a slow experimental down-up swipe. Blaine's breath sucks in hard again. Kurt laughs, sudden and explosive with nerves, into the back of his neck; but he feels bolder, and tries it again, and Blaine makes a low noise as he exhales, and his hips rock a little with Kurt's hand.

Kurt is actually doing this. Understanding strikes him so suddenly, he has his hand around Blaine's dick and he's - god he's giving him a handjob and he feels - almost alarmed by how turned on he is, incredibly powerful because he's doing this and he can feel how hot his face is but why isn't he more embarrassed? But Blaine makes a shaky little noise and Kurt's breath gulps into him and oh god oh god he can't take this back, he's doing it, and it's the scariest thing he's ever done so why isn't he actually scared?

And then Blaine sucks his breath in and grabs his wrist. "Kurt - wait -"

That is when the falling sky hits him, so hard. But Blaine rolls to face him again, his hand sliding around Kurt's jaw and closing in his hair. "If we're - doing this - can it maybe be more - mutual?"

Kurt stares at him, Blaine earnest and wide-eyed and wanting, and understanding pushes him the last inch between really, really turned on and fully erect in Blaine's sweatpants. His eyes flutter closed and Blaine's thumb strokes his cheek, and Kurt licks his lips, nods. "Yes." His voice sounds so dry; he clears his throat, says stronger, "Yes."

Blaine laughs. It sounds like relief. And then he kisses him and Kurt hadn't realised how much better kissing would make it; he folds an arm around Blaine's back to keep him close and Blaine's hand slips in underneath his t-shirt, fingers on his skin, warm palm skating Kurt's stomach and then as Blaine's tongue slips between his teeth, under the sweatpants, and Kurt's breath comes in sharp and oh.

Everything is very, very oh.

His hips try to meet Blaine's hand, and he wants his hand around Blaine again now, pulls at his tangled pyjama pants to just get them out of the way and Blaine laughs against his mouth and kisses him again, jerking the sweatpants off Kurt's hips, hiking himself closer, and his erection nudges Kurt's sudden and startlingly good. Kurt gives a little stifled moan into Blaine's mouth, and Blaine gets his hand around the both of them, getting a knee over Kurt's to try to get Kurt comfortable between his legs; Kurt puts his hand over Blaine's, squeezes for access. Blaine lifts and parts his fingers, lets Kurt knit his in together with his. Blaine whispers a sudden hissed, "Jesus Jesus Jesus," against Kurt's mouth and Kurt laughs at just how inappropriate blasphemy feels at this very particular moment, as their clumsy hands find a mutual rhythm, and it feels like his skin's split and he's all nerve endings electric with touch; Blaine.

Blaine's hips work in quick, sharp jerks, dragging Kurt too fast with them, and he knows that Blaine's closer than he is. He works on kissing him, works on the rhythm Blaine clearly wants, his free hand twisting the back of Blaine's pyjama shirt tight in his fingers, begging with every brain cell for Blaine to come, he wants it so badly, wants to do this for him - and then Blaine's body wrenches up and there's sudden wet and his hips keep working too roughly, and he's making snarled noises into Kurt's mouth before he falls back, panting, dazed, and Kurt sags his neck back, breathing hard. He can't take his eyes off Blaine's face, his closed eyes, that tightness between his eyebrows, his open mouth struggling for breath. Kurt did that. Kurt did that. God, god, Kurt did that.

He'd like to say something but he has no clue what, and no breath for it anyway.

And then Blaine swallows hard, opens his eyes and checks Kurt's face, kisses him once, looks down under the duvet and rolls himself on top of Kurt, wet hand surer around Kurt now. "Want," he says, and either he doesn't have the breath for the rest of the sentence or there is no rest of the sentence. He leans down and kisses Kurt and his hand works with longer, forceful strokes and Kurt's hips rock helplessly to meet him, making little noises into the kiss as Blaine's free hand gets underneath the t-shirt, damp fingertips dragging across his skin. Through the daze of it all, the rising drag of oncoming orgasm, Kurt realises how much Blaine's wanted to do this, to touch, how restrained he's been and how there's no restraint in this moment, his hands everywhere on him. He remembers him saying across a coffee shop table I understand passion and oh god he does, kissing Kurt hard, his body a weight holding him into the mattress, his thumb circling Kurt's nipple hard as he comes.

He scrabbles Blaine's sides through it, can't control the noises he's making, can't even think about wanting to control them; he's all noise and quick-squeezing lungs and pleasure too sharp, pleasure like a knife slitting him. And Blaine pulls him through it, watching him with intense dark eyes while Kurt nearly splits the seams on his pyjama shirt, bucking his hips up to his hand, keening near-sobs up at him. With a last squeeze Blaine lets him collapse, finally, back onto the mattress, little sparks of orgasm still in his body like the sudden glow of fireflies, and Kurt slumps his head back into the pillow and stares up at him. He's sweating underneath his clothes, Blaine's clothes, he hadn't realised how hot he was until it's done.

He raises a shaky hand, puts it on Blaine's cheek, strokes his skin. Blaine's eyes soften, slowly, from that fierce dark glare, and the smile twitches his mouth. He puts his head down into Kurt's shoulder, gets his arms in underneath him and hugs him so hard, while Kurt folds his arms around him and laughs, helplessly, because they're both naked to the knees and a mess and oh god, that had not been supposed to happen.

Blaine says into his neck, "Where did that come from?"

Kurt smiles helplessly, closes his eyes and closes a hand in Blaine's hair. "I have no idea. We were so well-behaved last night, I thought we deserved a reward."

"That was a hell of a reward."

"You deserved it." Kurt strokes his fingers back through Blaine's hair. "You've been - so patient with me. I know." He licks his lips. "Thank you."

Blaine doesn't lift his head, is just quiet for a moment before he says, "I needed the time too, you know. It - I didn't know what you'd think, and it's - it's scary."

Kurt says calmly, "Not anymore it isn't."

"No." Blaine gets his cheek settled on Kurt's chest, relaxes over him with a sigh. "It isn't."

He's heavy, all the bone and muscle of him, warm living boy on top of Kurt's body. Kurt looks up at Blaine's ceiling, grey with the curtains closed, and says, "I want to do that again."

Blaine mumbles, "Give me five minutes."

Kurt jabs him with a knee. "Not right now. But - we will, you will, won't you?"

"Probably as often as you'll let me." Blaine wriggles himself out over Kurt. "Mmmyou're all warm."

"You're all wet."

"So're you."

"I need another shower now."

"Can I come?"

Kurt looks down, at Blaine's puppy-hopeful eyes watching him from his own chest. He thinks about being actually naked in front of Blaine and how terrifying it'll be. And he thinks about the everything he'd give Blaine, once you've already put your bare heart into someone's hands how can anything be more dangerous?


Blaine's fingertips draw little patterns on the skin of Kurt's side where the t-shirt's hiked up. He says, "You are my favourite, favourite thing." and kisses the divot of Kurt's breastbone. "Can we have cookies for breakfast?"


The world outside is all bright with snow, dazzlingly white in the morning sunlight. Kurt has toast for breakfast, Blaine eats cookies, there's no reason not to. They sit feet bumping underneath the table, finishing yesterday's crossword. "Denouement," Kurt says, tapping a fingertip along one line. "Did you have plans for today?"

"Only if you did. Does it have accents?"

"No." Kurt licks crumbs and jelly from his fingers before he picks up his coffee cup. "I said I'd darn that ratty red sweater you love so much, didn't I? I could take it with me to do at home."

"I could come with you and you could teach me."

Kurt says, "Maybe I'd rather do it for you." and takes a sip of coffee, grinning. "We need to check on that snowman and rescue those gloves before it melts."

"I don't think it'll melt for a while yet. But I do like those gloves." Blaine fills in appease and rubs Kurt's shin with his crooked, socked toes. Kurt hums a little, cupping his mug in both hands, looking out of the window at the snow. He is almost appallingly sexy to Blaine. It's not just that this morning he decided, out of the blue as always, to put his hand down Blaine's pants and short circuit his brain, and it's not just that in the shower Blaine could run his hands down Kurt's gleaming wet back where his shoulder blades flexed like wings coming open. Of course he's gorgeous, of course Blaine feels just too lucky that Kurt actually let him put his hands on him, but. It's not just sex. It's not just the first body Blaine's been allowed to do this with, it's not the first aspect of it that makes something heat inside Blaine. What he loves, what makes him long all the time for Kurt -

Is drowsy mornings, evenings in, cups of coffee and quiet. Blaine finds domesticity sexy. He finds monogamy an incredible turn on. He wants this calm, this security. He understands passion. He grounds it in knowledge; passion is more than just bodies bumping, passion is wanting him, exactly him, this boy rubbing a sleepy eye as he puts his cup down and leans a little against Blaine's shoulder to look down at the crossword. "Charon?"

"He was the ferryman who took souls to Hades. The Greeks put a coin in in mouths of their dead to pay him."

"Aren't you smart," Kurt murmurs, drawing his fingers down the sides of Blaine's spine like feeling down a rope. "Two across is 'perennial'."

"Ah, now you see my crossword weakness: plants are just green things to me."

"At least you know how to spell it. Clever boy."

"So what's four down?"

Kurt yawns behind a hand, says, "I should call my dad soon."

Blaine hooks his ankle around Kurt's to keep him close just a little longer. "Come on, oracle of the crossword puzzle. Four down."

Kurt puts his chin on Blaine's shoulder and sighs into his ear. Blaine closes his eyes for a second, says, "Do you think we can convince your dad that it's too dangerous to drive back today?"

"I think . . . maybe you should come back with me. To keep me company on the drive." He turns his cool cheek against Blaine's and Blaine can hear in his voice that he's smiling. "Then I'll have to drive you back, of course, and it might be dark again by then."

"If we're lucky."

"I have been ridiculously lucky recently," Kurt murmurs, and Blaine looks out of the window, wishes for snow.

Current Mood: sleepysleepy
you squint when you sing: glee - crazy about youoatmeal_cookie on August 9th, 2011 01:39 pm (UTC)

I was so happy to see how tiny the scroll bar was when I clicked, and I read this really, really, really slowly, dragging it out, making it last for as long as I possibly could. And now I'm done, I hate that it's over, and I'm just sitting here, tears in my eyes, my heart fit to burst with the sheer volume of emotion your writing always evokes in me; there's so much it hurts, and it is so amazing.

Everything about this is just brilliant. They're so easy around each other, natural and grabby and teasing and incredibly sweet about it. The way you portray their quiet contentment slays me every time. Beyond that, they're so intense, too, just fiercely committed and overflowing with pretty much All The Feelings Ever. I just. It took so much for them to find each other, and now here they are, young and beautiful and completely, completely in love; they deserve each other, that is the best compliment anyone can give either of them, truly, I am so happy that they get to bring this much intense joy in each other's lives. THEY BAKED COOKIES AND HAD A SNOWBALL FIGHT. And then had exceedingly lovely and considerate and hot and giggly sex. They are simultaneously six and sixteen and all the way to eighty-six, I love everything they choose to be. *draws hearts*

I love this story with my entire being. I feel so lucky to share these boys with you, that I get to roll around in your gorgeous words about them all the time. Thank you.
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:01 pm (UTC)
I wrote this simultaneous to the fairy tale, with a weekender in the middle, and it made for an interesting headspace for two weeks ^^;

They *are* so easy around each other, it's why I love them <3 Because what could be thought of as a very dull relationship is actually a very *sure* one, in which they have a lot of fun and a lot of feelings and love each other so ridiculously much and I adore them for it. Because it's really good to see them stop being the caricatures of themselves that they used to express, because being themselves was scary, but nothing's scary when they're with each other. My dear dear boys <3

So I am very glad if you liked this story, because I'm pretty much happy all the time when I write them and it's nice to share the happy around ^^ Thank you for reading it, honey - thank you, as always =)
(no subject) - oatmeal_cookie on August 10th, 2011 11:24 am (UTC) (Expand)
meggie87: Klainemeggie87 on August 9th, 2011 01:40 pm (UTC)
I think I love you. So, accept my love, because right now I can't say more.
(btw, I LOVED it. Literally. It's perfect and beautiful and full of love and the smut wasn't too much, but just... there, perfect for the moment and with so much passion and feeling... I always said this, but, again, thank you for your amazing writing and thank you for show that you can write a hot scene without forgetting the feelings <3 I appreciate it so much <3 )
Rainjoy's writings: stripy!rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:06 pm (UTC)
I'm never big on writing pwps, so even when the smut is kind of crowbarred into it I like to think it's more than just me being a pervert? Anyway, I'm really glad you liked it ^^ Thanks for reading, honey, thank you - I'm glad if it made you happy ^^
jennacorinthjennacorinth on August 9th, 2011 02:07 pm (UTC)
I am always ecstatic when you post a fic and this was no exception. OMG I loved every moment of this, everything flowed so naturally.

I know it's August, but you really captured that amazing winter feeling where it's freezing and you just wrap up and envelope yourself in your own wee world and shut everything else out. Kurt and Blaine being in that world together just made my heart swell about 3 sizes! And the callback to Baby, It's Cold Outside. Aaah <3 <3 there is not enough less than three in the world to express my feelings!

Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:11 pm (UTC)
Working my way through the seasons! Because I am unimaginative with prompts. But ah I will get to write the autumn one day soon, though I think the spring suits this couple better <3

I'm really glad you enjoyed it honey, wintry snuggling and all - thank you for reading it ^^
Krisztinatheromanticnerd on August 9th, 2011 02:27 pm (UTC)
I usually skip the smut with these two, because I can't see it.

Bit with what you do with words and these two boys, if I had to read nothing in the world but your smut for these two, I would be a happy woman.

I don't even feel like smut is the right word, because once again, it is /so much more/. Your style is astounding. I kind of want to have your babies, you know. :D
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:12 pm (UTC)
Ah, I can see their smut, but then I am a giant pervert, and they are very pretty. But I'm glad you liked it, honey ^^ Thank you for reading, filth and all - thanks =)
(no subject) - theromanticnerd on August 9th, 2011 06:20 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:35 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - theromanticnerd on August 9th, 2011 06:44 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:55 pm (UTC) (Expand)
N i k k i: KLAINErockinhamburger on August 9th, 2011 02:57 pm (UTC)
I just want you to know that you are the only person whose journal I regularly check for fic updates. I don't think you post to any communities, so I always have to remind myself every few days to check here for more writing. And sometimes there isn't anything new (so I'll read a fic again, perhaps :D), but sometimes, if I'm lucky, there's a nugget of goodness waiting for me.

Like this morning.

There are so many beautiful words here, I don't feel like I can give you a comment that expresses my adoration for them.

The entire section where Blaine is worrying about Kurt--that's so me. I can't with your writing, because that's precisely what I do. I wait in the doorway, peer out the front window, or I stand on the street corner, or hold my phone in a death grip. I worry worry worry, and I can easily see Blaine being that kind of person, and you write those fearful, anxious, fraying emotions so well.

I love how many sweet romantic things they did together; making cookies, building a snowman, running and playing in the snow, sitting together by the fireplace, doing the crossword. Especially the crossword. I love words deeply, so that couple activity has always struck me as devastatingly romantic.

And, of course, the post-sleep, nervous, sexy fumblings of bringing each other off with their hands. Such a perfect portrayal of that kind of dizzying love with you're trying things out for the first time, and it feels huge (heh) and amazing and overwhelming, and it makes you feel powerful and capable and strong and like nothing can touch you. Flawless scene.

Beautiful story, really. I'm impressed all over again my your talents!

Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:43 pm (UTC)
I still don't post to communities =/ I thought I would after I caught up on canon, but then I was sort of happy just writing in my little corner, and I've already had one annoying anon without even posting anywhere but here so, yeah, just sitting in my corner playing with my pen and paper, writing what I like and keeping myself to myself, mostly. So, it's sweet of you to keep up with my hermit-like existence, honey ^^

Blaine seems like one of those people who lives very much in his minute-to-minute emotions, which means that when your immediate emotion is worry, you do kind of spiral quite quickly; it's hard to pull yourself out of it. Plus the way he followed Kurt around so desperately even before they were going out, I sense quite a lot of emotional neediness there ^^; But then there was happy! I usually do get around to the happy quite quickly ;) And they are so beautifully complimentary, I bet they ace crosswords together, just like they ace everything else <3

So I'm really glad you liked it! I kind of feel like I'm not doing very much with these two, you just put them into a room and their pretty just writes itself, so I don't feel like I should take much credit ;) But thank you very much honey, and I am glad you enjoyed it - thank you!
(no subject) - emilianadarling on August 24th, 2011 12:49 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - rainjoyswriting on August 24th, 2011 05:29 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - emilianadarling on August 26th, 2011 07:17 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - rainjoyswriting on September 3rd, 2011 05:58 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - queenofthemambo on August 10th, 2011 01:28 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 08:46 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - queenofthemambo on August 10th, 2011 03:46 pm (UTC) (Expand)
glitzy09: kurt blaineglitzy09 on August 9th, 2011 04:35 pm (UTC)
This was just glorious, the whole thing. It's August and I'm sitting here with the windows open looking at the sun shining outside, yet you described the snow and cold so beautifully I could almost feel it. If I quoted all my favourite bits I'd just be repeating the whole thing back to you but I especially loved these:

Every shove into a locker, every dumpster-dumping, every thrown slushie, every glance of hatred and contempt, every shout and every mutter, every time he's been made to feel like he deserves what people do to him - because of this. Because of exactly this, that little touch, because Kurt likes boys and the sky won't fall on him if he actually does anything about that, and other people can't bear that. Even Kurt's hypothetical desires are punishable offences. He must not want. He must never want; if he ever did want he's buried and stamped it down so deep in himself and looked the other way and ignored it desperately and pretended it away so hard like maybe that will make them stop - but they're never going to stop, and nor will the sky cave in on him if he ignores them instead of ignoring the want. They don't want him to want this, they're scared of him wanting this, but so suddenly, Kurt's not afraid anymore, Kurt's not ashamed. Embarrassed and flustered and shocked, but not scared, and not ashamed.

Blaine finds domesticity sexy. He finds monogamy an incredible turn on. He wants this calm, this security. He understands passion. He grounds it in knowledge; passion is more than just bodies bumping, passion is wanting him, exactly him, this boy rubbing a sleepy eye as he puts his cup down and leans a little against Blaine's shoulder to look down at the crossword.


(Totally immature side-note but I giggled like a 12 year old when I read the word penis - it reminded me I was reading something written by a fellow Brit, because you never see that word in things written by Americans :D )

I'm going to friend you because you seem awesome and then I don't have to keep checking your journal all the time to see when you've posted new fic :)
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:47 pm (UTC)
I'm getting to the point where I'm not exactly *longing* for winter, but I certainly won't mind it when it comes; I'm not good with summer =P

I'm sure Americans do *use* the word 'penis', possibly we are just more squeamish about using dirtier words for it? ;) I just can't imagine *Kurt* using much dirtier words for it, he's very - particular, in his language, and if he does have to name it I can hardly see him getting all porny on us ^^;

Thank you for reading it! And friending, yay ^^ Hope any future fic is worth it, honey =)
(no subject) - glitzy09 on August 9th, 2011 06:57 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Elenuvien Firelle: glee - kurt 3firelle on August 9th, 2011 05:08 pm (UTC)
i love it, i love it. it's one of the most perfect fanfic i've seen.

the way you wrote them, all being together is perfect. it's calm, still, slow and lazy, it may be funny but i just had to make a hot cocoa while reading because even though it's hellish summer i could feel the atmosphere of dark and snowy winter evening.

and how you made them spend their time - playing, being young yet not children, doing things kids think are too immature because they are too young to understand the beauty of such a simple thing as doing the crossword with someone you love. i laughed hard at the snowman, i'm 24 years old but when i think i will do it during winter, i get giddy.

i could go on and on, about the feelings, they overwhelming love that you put in the air that's not suffocating, like often in klaine fanfics, but completing and satisfying. it's very mature, maybe anoother day i'd complain that too mature for teenagers but it's honestly perfect and fitting.

and you made me miss being in love so, so horribly.
Rainjoy's writings: stripy!rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:31 pm (UTC)
Mmm, it's been chilly here today so I'm looking forward to some wintery snuggling tonight. Alas without those two, but I will manage on my own ;)

There is such a *calmness* to their relationship, that's why I love them so utterly much; they're just so quietly sure, and clearly their favourite thing is just spending time together and not really caring what they *do* so long as the other's there. It's just adorable <3

(I also think your twenties are *totally* your snowman decade, I'm 26 and I sculpt them wherever I go when it's snowed - bus stops, parks, windowsills - because I'm an adult now, and I get to decide what that means. *grins*)

So, I'm glad you liked it honey, and yeah, being single has its downsides. May we all find the Blaines to our Kurts one day. Until then, thank you for reading =)
(no subject) - queenofthemambo on August 10th, 2011 01:38 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 08:49 am (UTC) (Expand)
etherariaetheraria on August 9th, 2011 05:14 pm (UTC)
Ooooooh, pretty pretty winter! Only you could make me wish for snow in August, doll, if only for acting like a toddler outside and baking HUNDREDS of cookies to warm up with. So very sweet, and those boys are adorable. And, y'know. Hot. But even more adorable.

I'm glad you enjoyed your weekend and your dancing, I'm all jealous! <3
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:49 pm (UTC)
They are so adorable, and snow makes things more adorable, so them + snow = omg.

Do I remember rightly that you weren't into Glee before? If so, have you started getting into it or just absorbed lots of pictures of their prettiness? Because they are *so* pretty, and I do love sharing their pretty around ;)

The weekend was awesome, thank you! Dancing is *so* good for me, I spend way too much time in my own head. I hope you get some dancing time soon too =)

Thanks for reading it, honey - glad you liked it, as always ^^
(no subject) - etheraria on August 9th, 2011 08:42 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 08:52 am (UTC) (Expand)
Jesjes: wickedkaterina_black on August 9th, 2011 06:24 pm (UTC)
"bafflirritating" should be a word. Because it is amazing. So, incidentally, was the rest of this. It was so sweet, but also incredibly hot. ^_^
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 9th, 2011 06:50 pm (UTC)
Hee, I'm really glad you liked it, honey ^^ Thanks for reading, thank you ^^
Unaccustomed as I am to pubic spanking...: glee: gosh your lips look deliciouscool_rain_kiss on August 9th, 2011 08:00 pm (UTC)
Oh gosh, I am usually a huge fic lurker and the worst at commenting ever, but I adore absolutely all your fics, and this one TAKES THE CAKE. It adorabled my face off, I don't even. It's so cute. ♥______♥
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 08:53 am (UTC)
Totally gigglesnorted; 'adorable' should so be a verb, they do it all the time! I'm really glad you liked it, honey ^^ Thank you for reading it, and taking the time to comment =)
zunmozunmo on August 9th, 2011 08:11 pm (UTC)
Oooooh my god, you stun me every time. Seriously, I thought I was going to miss Santana in this one, but I didn't at all. So beautiful, the whole thing- when I read "Being loved is astonishing every day" I pretty much died.
Rainjoy's writings: santana my loverainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 09:04 am (UTC)
Oh Santana I will get back to her soon just because *oh* Santana <3 But thank you for reading it anyway honey, and I'm glad you liked it all the same ^^
selenityshiroiselenityshiroi on August 9th, 2011 08:32 pm (UTC)
First things first, I felt so much for Blaine in the 'OMG, MY BOYFRIEND IS GOING TO DIE DRIVING IN SNOW' panic because last year I had to drive 22 miles home from a Christmas party at 1am on a motorway totally covered in snow during extremely heavy snow fall in my tiny little Ford Fiesta and I wanted to cry the whole way because I thought I was going to die! It took me an hour and a half because I refused to go faster than 30mph and had to keep slowing to 20 when my visibility dropped to zero.

So, yeah, I totally knew every panicky thought and emotion he was having. And the urge to hug someone to remove the panicky sick feeling (my mum met me where I parked my car and I hugged her so hard!)!

Second, I think I have a bigger domesticity kink than Blaine!

I also absolutely love fluffy smut, so this whole thing was just perfect!
Rainjoy's writings: stripy!rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 09:08 am (UTC)
I don't drive, so I'm usually pretty chipper as the passenger in a car while the driver's all omg omg omg omg and I'm just, Look at all the snow!!1 - so, I see where Blaine's coming from, I know in the *abstract* it's dangerous, but yeah, look at all the snow!!1

I am glad you came through your own trauma alive and well ;) And I'm really glad you liked the fic! I think fluffy smut is like, my default genre. Especially with them, they do it so well <3 Thanks for reading, honey ^^
Erin: *starsesyria on August 9th, 2011 08:37 pm (UTC)
I'm so sad that I'll be in college again in two weeks, because I won't be able to drop everything I'm doing and read your fics the moment they're posted, like I have been (since I check your journal obsessively every day ^^' I just really, really love your writing).

Despite this story being based around winter, it made me feel really warm, it was so lovely (and gave me a compulsive need to listen to Kurt and Blaine's version of Baby, It's Cold Outside). I loved how you switched back and forth between their perspectives, and just how sweet and adorable everything was, from the snowman to the crossword to the cookies, to Blaine making Kurt warm milk and the two of them curling up near the fire to drink it. Your stories always inspire feeling because they're so thoughtful and emotive, and this one was no different, I just wanted to curl up in a blanket with a mug of hot chocolate while I read it (and will likely do just that when I read it again when it gets colder!).

I'm in love with how they love each other. I'd be jealous of them if I wasn't so busy melting in adoration of their relationship. They're so, so cute, I wanna wrap them up in my arms and hold them tight. <3
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 09:13 am (UTC)
Dude, in a month and a half *I'm* at college and will not have the time to fic every bunny in my brain; I am already traumatised on my own behalf, I will have to read difficult books and I could be watching these two behind my eyelids instead ;_;

Writing winter!fic in the middle of summer was interesting, but as it's been gloomy as hell the last few days not so weird ^^; I look forward to winter proper, when the true snuggle!fic marathoning can begin. It will be *lovely* ^^

And they are *so* cute, I would be resentful and jealous but they are so *sweet* in their love, they're just meant for each other, it's too adorable to breathe through. So, I'm glad you liked it honey, and thanks for reading - and good luck with your studies too ^^
Beth RakelAdamPascalFan on August 9th, 2011 11:48 pm (UTC)
This was just such sweet fluffy smutty goodness. I just finished 2 of the saddest days of my career, with an experienced I do not want to go through again and this was exactly what I needed to get me to a better place emotionally. Thank you for that. Cause yes, selfishly I think it's all about me. Yup. Yup. ;)

Everything about this was so wonderful but i think my favorite part was snowman building.
Rainjoy's writings: stripy!rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 09:15 am (UTC)
I hope things do get better? I'm basically writing my own work stress out of myself recently, so I do sympathise, and I hope things can be easier from now, honey.

And I'm glad you liked it, fabulously dressed snowman and all. Thanks for reading! =)
a fiction worthy wind: Glee - Kurt & Blainequietdiscerning on August 10th, 2011 03:03 am (UTC)
Everytime you post something new I squee a little inside, I love your writing so much.

This was so lovely! The feel was so warm and cozy, I felt all lit up inside from reading it. I love how in love they are, how content they are with each other. The way you portray them, and their relationship? It's just PERFECT.

In other words, this was amazing!!!! ♥♥♥♥
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 09:16 am (UTC)
I think 'content' is one of my very favourite words to describe them, *they so are*. It's like they *know* how perfect they are for each other, so it's worth all the work it might take, and they're happy to stick with it forever. They wouldn't notice if the grass were greener elsewhere because they actually are too busy staring at each other <3

So I'm really glad you liked it, honey ^^ Thank you for reading it! Thanks =)
(Deleted comment)
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 09:20 am (UTC)
Fluuufffff I know but they just *breed* it like bunnies, those two. They are Made Of Fluff. In the very best way.

I got super-lazy with structure just passing back and forth between them, but it's a lazy sort of fic in which they don't do very much so maybe it suits? ^^; And I'm really glad you liked it, honey ^^ They are the sweetest little things (emphasis on 'little') and just make me *happy* to write them, so I'm glad if other people can enjoy that too =) Thanks for reading it!
(Anonymous) on August 10th, 2011 05:20 am (UTC)
Close scares and smut, yum. And of course there's no fun like snow fun! Hee!
Once again, here I am, sucked up into your Glee universe... I'm not sure where I'd be without your writing. The world would be a darker duller place. A replica of the apocalypse-morning I saw once. (That was a very weird day. Starting with the weather.)

Your fics are my food,

PS. Somehow, I'm picking up British slang. Very very slowly. Also, it's getting harder for me to tell Brit writers from American ones, but not American writers from the British. Hmm...
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 09:22 am (UTC)
Ah, but we are largely bilingual now, the Brits. Only rarely will an American friend come out with something that will make me blink at them. I still find it very hard not to type 'arse' though, and not being able to use 'bloody' like it's punctuation is actually painful sometimes ^^;

And I'm glad you liked the fic, honey - thank you for reading it, as always ^^
kahlia ♥: glee → have some more scarf!pornfirstbreaths on August 10th, 2011 07:47 am (UTC)
You had me at 'crossword', but seriously, I'm so glad I read this. ♥ I have the biggest thing for domesticity and this was all the reasons why -- the easiness that comes with knowing someone so intimately, the delight in the little things (cookies and wearing each others clothes and waking up with their ankles wrapped around each other) and the overwhelming moments when you realise exactly what that means. And you manage to capture all of that perfectly. Thank you!
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 09:24 am (UTC)
I love that these two already have the real ease of domesticity at sixteen. Clearly they have to get married and stay together forever because *seriously* boys, who will you ever be so comfortable with again?

So I'm really glad you liked it, honey ^^ They are so my happy place to write right now; thank you for reading it, and I'm glad it was enjoyed ^^
Cool Whip Diva: glee dcriss black&white shutterspeedcoolwhipdiva on August 10th, 2011 11:05 am (UTC)
Love this! The sheer joy in it is just captivating.
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 05:16 pm (UTC)
I'm glad you liked it ^^ Thanks for reading it, honey =)
lelann137: glee-kurt smirklelann137 on August 10th, 2011 11:41 am (UTC)
cookies and snowmen and fluff galore. so much fun. thanks!
Rainjoy's writings: stripy!rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 05:16 pm (UTC)
All the good things about winter! Because these boys should only get good things <3 Thanks for reading it, honey =)
Ishjinsai on August 10th, 2011 04:19 pm (UTC)
Oh lord...

I love you. With all those meanings of the words. This was the best thing ever, and you are my favorite thing in the world. ♥

..or at least you will be once you give me the recipe for those coffee cookies!!! WANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3
Rainjoy's writings: <3rainjoyswriting on August 10th, 2011 05:20 pm (UTC)
The cookie recipe I will have to get back to you on, it was in a friend's cookery book from one rainy winter afternoon when I went to her place and we made All The Cookies. Then ate All The Cookies (boys came to help us with that part), and watched a documentary about dogs, and flailed about in a sugary haze about how cute dogs are omg.

. . . really nice day <3 But yeah, they were delicious little macaron-type things. Yum. So, I'm glad you liked the fic, honey - I'll remember to attach recipes in future ;) - and thanks for reading! =)
elle: [glee] get your heart racingelanorelle on August 10th, 2011 09:20 pm (UTC)
Oh, lovely lovely lovely. I feel like I say that every time I comment on any of your stuff, but the thing is it is always true. I loved all the things they did that weren't sex, but then I also loved that, as well, especially the way Kurt found the whole thing so scary until he really didn't, all of a sudden. That rang very true to him, I think.
Rainjoy's writings: kurt!rainjoyswriting on August 15th, 2011 07:35 pm (UTC)
My internet connection has been baaad, sorry for the late reply. But I'm glad you liked it, honey <3 I hope that canon!Kurt will very soon stop seeing sex as scary because nothing is scary with Blaine, not for him, and also because it will make me happy beyond all bearing and I may die in the best way ever.

Yes. And thanks for reading ^^
fenlingsfenlings on August 11th, 2011 03:37 am (UTC)
Thank you for writing things that make me smile!

(BTW, how is Roy doing stuck at the front this whole time?)
Rainjoy's writings: stripy!rainjoyswriting on August 15th, 2011 07:35 pm (UTC)
(Roy is sulking but he will survive, he's a big boy.)

Thanks for reading it, honey =)
theamberlightstheamberlights on August 11th, 2011 06:14 pm (UTC)
Goodness, you are an amazing, amazing writer. Every fic of yours that I read I find that I take my sweet time with, reading very slowly and absorbing everything, feeling every single emotion so strongly through Blaine and Kurt (that you convey so perfectly)!!! I loved Blaine's initial excitement over cookies, gosh he's so freakin' adorable!!
Rainjoy's writings: blaine goes buh?rainjoyswriting on August 15th, 2011 07:36 pm (UTC)
Blaine is like, five on the inside. I'm so glad he is, because it's really damn cute ;) And I'm really glad you've been enjoying the fic, honey - thank you, and thanks for reading it all ^^
diabla71588diabla71588 on August 12th, 2011 03:57 am (UTC)
amazing. i love their dialogue- external and internal. i love the snowman and the cookies. i love the iron man underwear (please write some anderson family fic, b/c it would be awesome). i love it all.
Rainjoy's writings: stripy!rainjoyswriting on August 15th, 2011 07:37 pm (UTC)
I am dyyyyying for us to get some Anderson canon because I don't *like* making important stuff up for important canon characters, but yeah, the bunnies nibble daily =/ And I'm glad you liked this one, honey - thank you for reading it =)