Mercedes nearly choked on her coffee.
"What? No!" She put her cup down on Kurt's bedside table and then in varying degrees of emphasis and pitch, she continued. "No! No! Noooooo!"
Kurt shook his head, "I feel like I'm having a déjà vu!"
He had only been home for four hours and only vaguely remembered stumbling through the front door. Kurt thought he had done so quietly, but obviously not, for Mercedes had rushed out of her bedroom bleary eyed to see if their cozy apartment had become victim to a break-in instead. Kurt hadn't thought that he had still been that drunk either, but after the long cab ride home his stomach had definitely been feeling worse for wear. Mercedes, the ever true friend, hadn't enquired about his night and instead patted his back as he had thrown up in the toilet, escorted him to his bed, and gave him two Advil with a large glass of water. She then tucked him in, kissed him on the forehead and turned off his light, closing his door quietly behind her. Her sympathy and motherly concern seemed to have a time limit however, because at the crack of dawn she hadn't been able to contain herself any longer and she had burst back into his room to discover just what had happened.
"You didn't!" Mercedes exclaimed excitedly.
Kurt hid behind his pillow. The only sign of him was the tuft of hair coming over the top and his pair of wide blue eyes. The news sank in even further and Mercedes brought her hands up to her face in astonishment. "You. Had. Sex. With. Blaine. Anderson? Like, the Blaine Anderson!"
And again, just like the day before, before Kurt could answer, Mercedes continued.
"Details!" she demanded, "I'm not leaving this room until I hear everything about it," she picked up Kurt's spare pillow and hugged it to her body in anticipation. "What the hell was it like?"
Kurt couldn't help himself and his face broke out into the hugest smile, but no, he really couldn't, he had never gone into the explicit details of his sexual encounters with her before. They joked and talked around the edges, but never in great depth. "It was fucking amazing, I'll just say that."
"OH, COME ON!" She cried, and then with an exaggerated pout, "It was with Blaine Anderson! I am your best friend in the whole wide world and I command that you spill your beans!"
"Mercedes, I'm not going to go into the nitty gritty details of our...night together." 'Night together' seemed much more appropriate than 'the best night of no-holds-barred fucking!' Kurt thought.
"Kurt Hummel," Mercedes warned venomously folding her hands across her chest and pillow, "who helped you pass your algebra test in Middle School when everyone else had given up on you? Who joined you in every Glee rehearsal? Who stood by you when you were viciously bullied in school?"
Oh God! Why did she have to go there? "You are the meanest creature in the world," Kurt sighed, "it was fucking hot okay, and fucking scandalous, and just like, hell!" Kurt wanted to claw his face off as the electric images of Blaine fucking him flashed before his eyes, and Mercedes eyes went wide as she saw him relive some of the moments.
"Okay, stud boy!" she quickly interjected, "no need to get all worked up again. Just let me know on a scale of one to ten, how was it? Bearing in mind that the numbers below five don't really exist in this situation."
"Urr, do I only get to go up to ten?" Kurt teased, "Because seriously, it was off the fucking charts! And really, even though I haven't exactly been with a lot of people, there are not many people who would compare with Blaine Anderson."
Mercedes clapped her hands together in glee, but then, her face became all serious.
"And now the most important question," she paused dramatically. "Are you going to see him again?"
Kurt wished he didn't have to let her down, she looked just as eager and excited as he was, but as much as he wanted to see Blaine again, Blaine hadn't invited him to do so. Kurt wished it was any other situation and that Blaine was just any other guy, because if he was, Kurt would definitely make the first move and contact him again. Heck, but what could he do under these circumstances? Send the guy a tweet asking him if he wanted another fuck?! As if!
"No, I won't be seeing him again," he said softly, breaking it to her gently. Mercedes face fell.
"Why not?" She whined.
Kurt shrugged. He didn't want to relive everything that had happened the night before, even though Blaine's conversation and reaction were still weighing heavily on his shoulders. He was still quite confused about what had occurred at the end of the night and in his befuddled hung over state, Kurt was incapable of processing it. The way Blaine had held him, kissed him and spoken to him after they had sex, and then his extreme change of emotions to anger and then to sadness. Kurt still wasn't too sure whether all of it had even been entirely directed at him, or at other raging thoughts that could have been going through Blaine's head. Oh boy, did Kurt wish he could have a second chance, and he felt a distinctive longing tug in his body as he thought of Blaine, wishing he could just be in the same room as him again.
"He's a rock star, Mercedes. It was just for one night."
Mercedes lowered the pillow and gave him a sympathetic look, "Hmm, I guess he does belong to a different world, doesn't he? Oh well, at least you had that one night, hey?"
"Yeah, and it was a great night."
Kurt was done reminiscing though. He didn't want to talk about it anymore and he feigned a yawn, "I'm sorry, but you know, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
Mercedes looked devastated, "I guess you're right." She rose from the bed and gave Kurt a quick hug. "Don't you worry, Kurt, we'll find you someone, someone fantastic who can treat you right and I think I have just the plan," Kurt's eyebrows rose in surprise and he watched her skeptically, "but don't worry, I'll tell you the idea after you've had some sleep."
Usually Kurt was very dubious of Mercedes matchmaking endeavors, but maybe just this once, he would go with it. He believed he was going to need something drastic to make him forget Blaine, and really, that was just what he needed to do. Alone in his room, Kurt sighed and flopped back on his pillow hoping that sleep would find him again, but when he closed his eyes, all that he could see were those gorgeous dark curls and honey eyes staring back at him. Forgetting Blaine was going to be a very hard thing to do.
Three days later...
"Oh, fuck Santana! That feels good!" Blaine gasped and he couldn't stop the low, rumbling moan that escaped from deep within him. "Please," he begged, "whatever you just did. Do it again!"
"Oh, Blaine," Santana tutted and she gave him a wry smile. She moved her hands once again and Blaine let out another merciless long groan.
"Your fingers! No one should be allowed to do that with their fingers," Blaine squirmed slightly under her touch. "Ooohhh, yeah right there, right there!"
Santana felt him shudder beneath him and she tried to hold onto her laugh, "Turn over Anderson," she ordered, "you've only got me here for another fifteen minutes."
Disappointed, Blaine sighed and rolled onto his stomach. He knew that there was no point in arguing with Santana, she always got her way.
"If only you were man, Santana," Blaine said in a muffled voice, his head now resting into his arms.
"If only you were a woman, Blaine," Santana laughed back to him, "but" (crack) "as your" (crack) "professional masseuse" (crack) "even if you were" (crack) "a woman, I wouldn't be able" (crack) "to do anything about it because" (crack) "I'm a professional!"
"Bullshit!" she heard Blaine accuse her from underneath his arms, "seriously though, the things you can do with your fingers, woman," Blaine said turning his head, "you must make a lot of women happy."
"If only you knew," she sassed back. She was silent for a moment, quietly kneading her fingers into the muscles around his shoulders. But after a couple of moments, she couldn't resist.
"So what's got you so worked up anyway?"
Blaine kept his head down, "nothing!"
"Okay, so who's the guy then?"
Blaine's head flew up in surprise. "There is no guy," he responded quickly.
"Uhmm," Santana responded and she pushed his head back down, "looks like I hit the nail on the head."
The both stopped talking then, the sound of Blaine's lounge room door crashing open disturbing their conversation. They needn't look though to know who had just arrived, there was only one person who would make an entrance like that.
Oblivious to the fact that they had been in the middle of a conversation, Rachel strode over to the table that Blaine was laying on, her pen in her hand, poised ready to go. "Oh, I hope I'm not interrupting," she said as an afterthought, even though any other sane person would indeed realize that they were interrupting.
"Oh, no, not at all," Santana practically hissed back at her sarcastically. Rachel simply ignored her and glanced at Blaine. He held onto the sigh that wanted to escape his lips and gave her a quick wave of the hand for her to begin.
"Okay, so you said you were going to be in here until the hour, but I thought I'd update you as there have been some changes."
Blaine couldn't hold onto it any longer and this time he did sigh. He rolled onto his back and crossed his arms over his chest, "what now?"
"Okay, well at 10:30 you have your training session with Sue. But straight after that, Sebastian has arranged for you to do a quick radio interview."
"What?"
Santana crossed her arms and gave him a comforting smile.
Rachel gave him a look, then glanced back down to her daily planner and he knew that she was nowhere near being finished. "Then after lunch you have the doctor's appointment and then at 4:00pm you're meant to be..." Blaine zoned out and looked up to Santana who was now using her hand as a puppet to copy Rachel's words, all the while pulling silly faces to go along with them. Blaine stifled a grin.
"And, I've already ensured that your dry cleaning, vitamins and new shoes have arrived. Oh, and I nearly forgot," Blaine threw his hands into the air and then covered his face, and Santana reached down and squeezed his shoulder, "Joan, your stylist is coming back around to give you ideas for your outfit for the dinner on Friday, and speaking of which," Blaine really wondered how she could do this in one breath. He looked back up to Santana.
"This was supposed to be my rest day," he whispered.
She smiled again and stopped when Rachel gave her another glare.
"Toby from costume wants to do a refit of your leather pants since you said they were getting uncomfortable. He thinks you might have lost some weight since the start of the tour and that's why they're starting to rub. And, of course, there's tonight."
Rachel finally stopped.
Blaine sighed, "tonight."
"Oh, tonight," Santana said and all her pretentious and sarcastic overtones fell away.
"Yes, tonight," Rachel's face filled with worry too. "Blaine, I..."
"I know," he sighed. "But don't worry it will be alright."
"I just, Sebastian, you know."
Blaine gave them both a smile. "I know, but he thinks it's going to be a good move, career wise. You know, blow the lid off everything."
Rachel and Santana shared a look, but it wasn't missed by Blaine.
"Look, I'm a big boy, for fuck's sake. It's going to be a blast."
"But..." Rachel began.
"But nothing Rachel! It's going to happen, alright!"
Santana clapped her hands together wanting to get the issue resolved. She had another client that she needed to get to, but she wanted to ensure that Blaine was going to be alright for the evening's meeting and the consequences that were going to come of it. And the only way that she could think to rectify this problem and stop it from going bad, was this guy who had put Blaine into such a frump. If there was a fine, sweet, young thing that Blaine was smitten with, it would definitely help keep Blaine on the right track.
"So, anyway Rachel, Blaine here was really stuck thinking about someone before you came in. Some guy apparently has gotten under his skin!" She gave Blaine a wicked wink, and she knew that she was on the right track because it was also the first thing that had been able to bring a smile to Rachel's face since she had entered the room. "Care to elaborate for me since he's being so closed lipped."
"There is no guy!" Blaine cried.
"Ahh, so there is a guy," she repeated smugly. Blaine glared up at her and Santana smiled down knowingly. She brought her fingers round to the back of his neck and used two fingers on each hand to rub over the muscles in his neck. It felt delightful and Blaine closed his eyes again, "Blaine, you hired me for my Mexican third eye. You know that I can read you."
"Shut up." He wasn't looking forward to this. He knew Santana and Rachel didn't get along, but when it came to his love life, all their old petty arguments would quickly be forgotten and they would turn into the biggest pair of clucking hens.
"Ooooh! So it must be someone important if you're getting snappy." Blaine folded his arms across his chest. "No, no honey," Santana laughed. "You're meant to be relaxing, not getting more wound up."
Rachel couldn't contain herself any longer, "Santana! You wouldn't believe it! He was so cute and so perfect." Blaine rolled his eyes. Santana even stopped rubbing his head and leaned forward in her eagerness to hear more about this mystery man.
Blaine scowled, sighed and threw his arms down on massage table so he could push himself up into a sitting position. "He didn't mean a thing, alright. He was just another guy that I wanted to fuck, that's all. I knew he would be a bit of challenge and it was fun alright. It was fun because unlike any other guy I've hit on and had a conversation with, he held out."
Blaine jumped off the table, landed squarely on his feet and stormed off not perturbed for one moment when his towel fell free onto the floor. He swung down picked it up and swung it over his shoulder and continued to his room completely naked. Santana and Rachel both stared unabashed after his butt and gave contented mumbles of agreement.
"Damn, I might be into girls, but that's one fine ass!" Santana shook her head with salacious approval.
"Amen!" Rachel held up her hand and Santana answered it with a quiet high five.
Blaine slammed his bedroom door shut behind him and rested his head against it. He wasn't really angry at them, he was angry at himself because why couldn't he admit that there was a little bit of truth in their words, that Kurt had in fact grabbed his attention. Not only had it been some of the best sex he'd had in a long time, but because there was something about Kurt that made his insides flutter with excitement. The way that Kurt hadn't been afraid to say what he wanted, the way that he had been the first person in a long time to be honest to him and, to be exactly right.
"Fuck," Santana snapped to Rachel, back in Blaine's lounge room. "I was really hoping that there was something there."
Rachel nodded in agreement. "You would have loved him Santana. Kurt was adorable. He was just perfect for Blaine."
"So, this meeting, tonight," Santana began, her eyes flicking up and down Rachel with slight annoyance. "It's really going to happen?"
Rachel sighed and a frown came to crease her pretty face. "Unfortunately, yes. At ten o'clock tonight." She was silent for a moment. "I have a bad feeling about this Santana," Rachel told her softly.
Santana and Rachel didn't often see eye to eye, but on this rare occasion, Santana felt the same. She stepped forward and draped her arm around Rachel's shoulders, her face now set with just as much concern. "Me too," she looked back towards the door where Blaine had just left, "me too."
They both startled though as Blaine's face suddenly reappeared in the doorway. "Rachel, I'm going to need your help," he stated with a devilish twinkle in his eye. "You're going to have to cancel my evening appointments."
"You can't miss the meeting tonight," she quickly informed him. "Sebastian will have my head."
"Nah, don't worry, I'll be finished by then."
Rachel and Santana shared one last look before Rachel picked up her notebook and crossed over to Blaine.
"What's going on?"
Blaine didn't answer but gave her a sly smile. "Come on, I have an idea."
Kurt's head nearly fell off the hand it had been resting on. It dropped so quickly it startled him back to attention and he flung his head up so he could refocus on the young man in front of him. He blinked in confusion. Kurt's mind had wandered so far that he couldn't even remember the young man sitting down before him. How the hell had he let Mercedes convince him that speed dating at their local coffee shop was a good idea? It had been her great plan for Kurt to meet someone. Hmmm, great idea my butt, Kurt thought to himself. Out of the first six men that he had had his two minute conversation with, none of them had grabbed his interest in the least.
He was currently listening to John? No? Paul? No? Oh shit, he couldn't even remember the poor guy's name. He glanced at his name tag. It was Peter. Peter with big, blue eyes and a nice square jaw. He was an unusually dressed young man who worked as sales rep for a cleaning product the name of which Kurt couldn't quite remember right now. And he also had a pet dog and he liked to do... something ...unfortunately Kurt had drifted off again. He knew he was being rude, he didn't mean to be, but ever since his wild one-night-stand with Blaine, he just hadn't been able to get the man out of his mind.
Kurt knew it was ridiculous. He knew that he would never hear from Blaine again but he just couldn't help it. And in fact, it was becoming quite annoying because Blaine's face would come to him in the most random of places; when he was in the shower, when he was reading a book, or even when he was just washing the dishes. And what made things even worse, they weren't any odd flashes of Blaine's face, they were flashes of Blaine staring hungrily at him, wanting him, kissing him, holding him and of course fucking him.
Kurt startled all over again, when the man before him suddenly used Blaine's name in full in front of him. He snapped back to attention.
"Wait, sorry what? What did you just say about Blaine Anderson?"
"Oh, just that he's like one of my most favorite artists of all time," Peter repeated, not worried at all that Kurt had missed it the first time. "I saw him in concert and ..." Kurt sighed inwardly and his mind went straight back to when they had been lying on the hotel bed, their naked bodies against each other. Blaine's hot and sweaty body gyrating on his own, the way Blaine's hands had freely explored every inch of his chest and tickled his sides, the feel of his mouth on his, the feel of him inside him...
The buzzer sounded and ...Shit! Kurt had forgotten the man's name again. Flustered and feeling hot, he knew he had to get out of there. He excused himself from the table and rose to his feet.
The next man in line looked at him in confusion and disappointment, and Kurt felt instantly guilty. "I'm sorry, it's not you! I promise." He looked about himself, searching for an excuse. "I just don't feel well. I have to leave." It was a lame excuse but it would have to do for now.
He rushed out of the café and breathed in deeply, letting the fresh air cool his body. His overloaded senses relaxed and his sudden deep arousal subsided. Kurt couldn't help but berate himself. This whole evening had been a waste of time. There was no way he was going to meet someone that could interest him this way. Nothing was going to ever happen with Blaine again, he knew that, but, oh dear, the temptation was too much and he just wanted to live in his fantasy world for just a little bit longer. Blaine had left one of the deepest imprints on his heart? Soul? 'Oh God, would you listen to yourself. You're pathetic!' Kurt cried within his head. 'You only spent one night with the man and made out with him on one other occasion.'
Kurt scuffed his feet on the pavement. He really had no idea where his life was heading right at that point. The career that he had studied at college was at a standstill, and his love life, nonexistent. Unfortunately for him, the two were intertwined and he couldn't think of one without thinking about the other. Only seven months ago he had been working his way up and making a name of himself in the interior design world, but then, in a catastrophic scene of events, everything had been swept out from under his feet and he had been left with nothing, absolutely nothing.
Kurt looked off into the distance lost within his thoughts. The pain and heartache had been so unbearable Kurt still didn't know if he could return to his previous passion. Designing and making things was in his blood, and he was actually still trying to determine whether he should focus on another avenue in the field. He had always been an avid fashion guru on the side and even Mercedes had mentioned it as a possibility for him. But it was still too soon. Kurt's artistic drive had been burned and it no longer had the confidence to shine. For now, he was content to just keep working at the bookshop with Mercedes.
A strong gust of wind caught him by surprise and he was forced to pull his coat collar up around his neck and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
It was still too early to go home. He had promised Mercedes that he was going to give the speed dating a real try so he couldn't head off just yet. Kurt gazed up and down the street wondering on just what he could do. He caught the sign of one of the pubs that he and Mercedes often frequented when they had the same night free. It was just a little ways down the road and he decided that getting a drink would be best option while he tried to come up with a suitable and pleasing story for Mercedes to listen to.
He hadn't even taken a sip of his first glass of beer however when the Blaine Anderson song came on through the speakers. Kurt's glass froze in mid-air about two inches from his mouth. "Come on!" He shouted through the din knowing that no one would be able to hear him, the music far too loud. Kurt spun in his seat in desperation. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't escape the guy. No matter where he went, Blaine Anderson just seemed bent on tormenting him. And then he almost fell off his chair, because there, right in front of him, dancing seductively in all his glory was Blaine Anderson. Although, he wasn't actually right there in front of him, he was dancing on the large screen that covered a portion of the bar's wall.
'Fuck!' It was torture, pure torture. Watching the man move, watching him swivel his pelvis and gyrate in time with the beat. And Kurt couldn't help but remember kissing him, kissing that hipbone and kissing that sexy dark tattoo that Blaine had marked on him, just right at that spot where his dark coarse hair began. It was the sexiest thing Kurt had ever seen. But then, to make matters worse, halfway through the song it was as if Blaine Anderson was looking directly at him, right into his eyes.
Kurt glared. It really wasn't fair, but then he realized that this was going to be something that he was going to have to put up with for a long time because Blaine really was everywhere. He was on TV, on the internet, in bars, on the cover of magazines. And each and every time, Kurt would have to look at those beautiful eyes and know that it had only been that one time.
It was at that moment though that his phone began to vibrate in his jean's pocket. Kurt took a quick gulp of his beer and pulled it free. He couldn't believe that Mercedes was checking up on him already but he frowned when he saw his screen. It was an unknown number. Oh well, he didn't care, anything to get his mind off Blaine. He took one last longing gaze at Blaine on the screen and hopped off his stool to move to the entrance of the bar where its large double windows opened up onto the street. He leant out the window and answered his phone.
"Kurt? KURT!" He heard his name.
"Yeah, it's Kurt." He leaned further out the window. "Who's this?"
"It's..."
"Who?" Kurt tried to lean out further still, but the beginning of the next song had really kicked in and he wasn't able to hear a thing. "Hang on!" He shouted and he headed towards the door and stepped back out onto the street. "Hello? Are you still there? Hello?"
"Kurt, can you hear me now?"
Kurt froze, his hand poised beside his head and he was sure his heart stopped. Nooooooo! It couldn't be! His head must be playing tricks on him.
"Hello? Kurt? Are you still there?"
Kurt took a deep breathe, the realization sinking in. "Blaine?!"
"Ur, were you just listening to one of my songs?"
"I'm at a bar," he quickly explained. His mind was still racing. What the hell? What was Blaine doing calling him? "Is it really you Blaine? Shit! We're still on a first name basis, aren't we?"
"Fuck, babe. We'll always be on a first name basis."
Kurt's heart skipped a beat again and then it suddenly hit him.
"How did you even get my number?" He asked dumbfounded. "What? Do all the rich and famous have connections with the FBI or something?"
Blaine chuckled down the phone, "Oh, I have my ways."
"Like?"
"Do you remember after we had fucked?" Kurt's stomach dropped, like he could ever forget that Blaine had actually fucked him. "You checked your texts and chucked your phone down beside the TV before you went to the bathroom."
"Yeah."
"Well, your phone has a timer before it locks you out, right?"
"Yeah." Kurt guessed where he was going with this, the sly devil.
"As soon as you went into the bathroom, I called myself with your phone."
Kurt nearly choked. Did that mean for the past three days he'd had Blaine's phone number logged on his phone and he had never known? Three days!? Where he could have gone and rung Blaine? Who checks their phone logs? The world was a cruel, cruel place.
"I deleted my number off your log though before you came out," Blaine quickly added. Kurt's shoulders' slumped. That wasn't fair.
"Okay, so you managed to get my number," Kurt told him and he knew that his voice was going to waver when he asked his next question. "Why did you call Blaine?"
There was a short pause before Blaine answered his question.
"I want to see you again. I'm going to be leaving town tomorrow, going to finish the tour and I won't be back for a while."
Kurt held the phone away from his head and stared at it, just long and hard stared at it. Had he really just heard what he thought he had heard?
"Can you repeat that?" He stammered when he brought the phone back to his head.
"I said," Blaine began his voice now deep and raspy. "I want to fuck you again."
"Oh..." Kurt's voice was instantly at that high pitch place where it really should not be able to be heard by humans. "I thought that's what you said."
Gosh, where was his self-respect after what had happened three nights ago? Oh! That's right! He didn't have any, not when it came to him being able to have hot, amazing sex with Blaine again.
"Where are you?" Blaine continued, his tone now urgent and wanting. It seemed like Blaine wasn't even going to give him the option to say no.
"Just round the corner from my house."
"Don't move. Tell me the address and I'll come and pick you up."
"Really?"
"Really, address, now."