#tried to link the sew beautiful shop and it's suddenly GONE

[thesweetpianowritingdownmylife]

Stitchtober day 30: Autumn forest

Aka LOOK MA I LEARNED HOW TO DO FRENCH KNOTS!!

Tried to do something inspired by Sew Beautiful, whose designs I really love.

I haven't decided what I'm going to do with it yet...maybe a necklace?

[elisajdb]

The Red Thread of Fate

A story for (CC) Carol Winner of the @the-gochi-awards Favorite Comic

 Goku stretched his arms over his head as he woke from his nap. He groaned when he heard the sounds of rain tapping the window. It was the rains’ fault for his nap. It rained all day so he couldn’t go outside to train. He could but his new wife wouldn’t allow it. The first time he came home after training in the rain, he spread mud all over the floor. It enraged ChiChi so much she forbid him to train when it rained. Goku, not wanting to anger his new bride oblige. When it rained, Goku stayed home. Sometimes he spent it with ChiChi and other times like now, he took a nap.

 “Goku!” He turned to see his wife come downstairs. The way she said his name told Goku ChiChi was in a really good mood. Despite her temper, Goku learned his wife was generally a happy person so whatever she was in the mood for, Goku figured it must be good for both of them. “Show me your little finger.”

 ChiChi held her hand up with her pinky finger extended to him. Goku thought her excitement meant she cooked a meal for him or she changed her mind about him training in the rain. He figured his new wife was keen to teach him many things. Some he really liked (kissing, sexy times), some confused him (shopping) and some he didn’t like (work). He hoped whatever she will teach him will be something he will like.

 “Okay.” Goku extended his pinky to ChiChi. “Now what?”

 “Have you heard of the ‘Red Thread of Fate’?”

No. ChiChi looked so happy about it. If ChiChi was this happy, Goku tried to guess. He wondered if it was food. He hoped so. He wouldn’t mind having a meal now. “No. Is it something about food?”

 “NO!” ChiChi groaned exasperated. “Why do you always make everything about food?”

 “Sorry,” Goku apologized, “but you know I don’t know a lot of stuff, ChiChi. What is it?”

 “It’s an invisible line that links people to their true love. See?” ChiChi wrapped a red thread around her pinky finger and she wrapped another around Goku’s little finger. “Like this. It will connect us our whole life… until we die.”

 Goku pulled the string linking his finger with ChiChi’s. He was skeptical to believe this red string could connect them. He wanted to believe ChiChi but the string felt thin and weak. “Are you sure? It’s just a regular string. Won’t we need a stronger one? I can ask Kami for a stronger one.”

 “No,” ChiChi flexed her finger to show the string was strong enough for them. “This red string is a symbol to reflect our connection and dedication to each other. We don’t need anything else.”

 If ChiChi was sure this string was strong enough, Goku believed her. She knew more about love and marriage than him. “Okay. If you say so.”

 Five Years Later

 “What’s the matter with you, Goku?” King Kai noticed his pupil in a down mood. As upbeat and jovial Goku acted, there were times Goku was depressed. It was rare and something Goku tried to hide from the wise Kai of the North but he knew and gently tried to pursue Goku to share his thoughts. “Is my cooking that bad?” He thought the joke would crack a smile but the dead warrior merely sighed and

looked away. He must be in a sour mood to not comment about his food. Goku never held back how the meals King Kai cooked were bland.

 “King Kai,” Goku suddenly spoke, “are connections to people broken when they die?”

 So, that’s what going on. Goku missed his family. “Connections are never broken if you don’t forget about them, Goku. The connection is severed now because you are dead, but you’ll be back with them and your connection to them will be stronger than ever.”

 “Really?” Goku brightened hopeful the Kai of the North was correct. “I’ll be reconnected to ChiChi again?”

 “Of course, Goku.” King Kai assured him. “After this mess with the Saiyans, you’ll go home and be with your family for a very long time. I’m sure of it.”

 Four Years Later

 King Kai knew when Goku died again, he couldn’t leave Goku in the afterlife alone. For all his innocent, happiness and his ability to handle things alone, he had another side and learning of Goku’s time on Earth, King Kai knew Goku would be lonely. He didn’t want Goku, after making many friends in his life, to retract to that little boy left alone after his Grandpa Gohan died.

 King Kai expected growing pains from Goku this time because he knew he wasn’t returning to the living in a year. He will be dead forever and separated from his family for many years. So far, their time on the Grand Kai’s planet has been very enjoyable. Goku was happy and got along with all the fighters. He was eager to spar with them and study all the new fighting techniques they possessed. The newness of the situation took Goku’s mind off his decision to stay dead but King Kai knew the crash will come when it hits Goku on what he did.

 Which was now.

 Time passed differently in the afterlife and Goku spent several days from Grand Kai’s palace. Some fighters hadn’t noticed; some had and suspected but King Kai knew why. In Earth’s time, Goku was gone for a week. King Kai thought that was too long for Goku to dwell in his own thoughts.

 He found Goku sitting on one of the high peaks of a mountain staring at the sky. King Kai settled beside him. He knew now was not the time for his terrible jokes. He saw the sadness in the warrior’s eyes and knew he was thinking of his family and their severed connection. Being a God in his own right, the Kai of the North never needed strong ties like family. He had a connection to Bubbles and Gregory and his precious car but it wasn’t like the feelings Goku shared for his family. Spending time with Goku he understood the human emotions to it and why humans (some) cherish it.

 “King Kai, can connections be established again if it’s severed for a long time like years?”

 “Of course, Goku. You know no matter how many years you are apart, you will never lose that connection to your family. Just keep remembering them and know the next time you see them, you won’t be apart again.” He had a wife and son he thought about but King Kai knew his current feelings were for his wife. He said goodbye to his son but not to her. “Your wife, ChiChi, will be so happy to see you again.”

 Goku looked away to briefly rub his eyes. “Really?”

 King Kai patted Goku’s back again. Sometimes he really was an innocent child who needed reassurance. “I’m sure of it, Goku.”

 Seven Years Later

 It was raining again but Goku didn’t think the day was boring. Nope. Not anymore. After being dead for seven years, every day was fun and exciting even the dreary rainy ones. It sure was quiet. With Gohan at school and Goten in his room doing schoolwork, the day was very quiet but Goku didn’t mind. ChiChi was with him, sewing and talking of their precious, youngest son. Yesterday, during a hike with Goku, he ripped his shirt off a tree branch. That was the story Goten told her but ChiChi knew her son was sparring with his Daddy.

 ChiChi sorted her knitting basket pulling out balls of yarns and spools. “Oh, dear. I think I ran out of orange.” ChiChi pulled a red spool from her knitting basket. “But I think this red thread will match nicely with Goten’s shirt.”

 Red thread? It was as if a clap of thunder struck him. He has been home for nearly two months and he forgot again. He snatched the spool from ChiChi. Yup. Yup. This was it. Goku unfurled a short string and wrapped it around his left pinky. Hmm not enough he decided. Goku extended it to wrap around his ring finger. Nope. Still not enough. He wrapped it around his middle, forefinger and thumb. He looped a red thread around his wrist. The more the better Goku thought but to be sure, he wrapped string around the pinky of his right hand and ChiChi’s left pinky.

 “Goku,” ChiChi looked at the thread linking her and Goku’s hands, “what are you doing?” She was deeply appreciative Goku was back and loved enjoying his company again but there were times like now he truly confused her and she wasn’t in the mood for any games. “You suddenly took my thread. I’m fixing Goten’s cloth.”

 “ChiChi, you remember this?” The red spool of thread she bought at the market? Not really. “‘The Red Thread of Fate’?” Oh. That. It had been so long but ChiChi remembered sharing the story when they were newlyweds. Goku didn’t understand then and ChiChi didn’t think Goku really cared or remembered but he did.

 “You…..” ChiChi was awed and so happy to be wrong, “you remembered.”

 Goku confirmed with a nod. “You said this will connect us until we die….. but I died already before. I forgot to do this when I came back from Yardrat.” He felt a little silly now as he stared at his hands. Perhaps, he did go too far wrapping it. “So I used this thread to link us again. It’ll work, right?” He was optimistic it will work but he needed ChiChi’s assurance. “See? Not only the little finger but I tied my whole hand.” ChiChi didn’t speak but the tears in her eyes and her beautiful smile told him all he needed to know. It will work. “Yes, it sure will.”

 “Yes, it will work,” ChiChi choked overwhelmed with tears. He remembered. He understood. “Oh, Goku,” ChiChi grabbed Goku’s hands and linked them with hers. “Thank you. You don’t know how much it means you remember.”

 “Ah, ChiChi,” ChiChi being so happy always warmed his heart. “Don’t cry. You know what that does to me.”

 “I can’t help it. You’ve made me so happy. We’ll always be together,” ChiChi promised. “No matter what.” A silly tale or a story with seeds of truth, ChiChi knew she and Goku will always be together.

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 26 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Hey guys. To anyone who’s still reading this story, thank you for your patience between chapters, I know it’s been slow. Here’s a link to the previous chapters.

Thank you so much to @aqalbatross for beta-ing this chapter, and to @missdandee for helping to murder all the worst babies.

Summary: Slow burn? *Pours lighter fluid, strikes match*

TW: Past emotional abuse

***

“Check it out…” Courtney sings, setting a plant on the table near Bianca’s sewing machine. It’s full and lush and covered in little bright red peppers. She’d spent an hour at the nursery this morning carefully learning about every kind of pepper they had, and ended up with something she knew would make Bianca happy.

“Cool. I don’t think I’m allowed to eat chili peppers though,” Bianca sighs. “The doctor says it’ll make my heartburn worse.”

“No, I know. And I know you’ve been missing them. These are paprika peppers. Apparently they still have a tiny zing, but shouldn’t affect you the way the hotter ones did. Plus it’s cute, like you.”

Dimples deepen in Bianca’s cheek as she lets out an uncharacteristically girlish giggle, reaching for Courtney’s hand.

“Are you sure they aren’t spicy?” she asks.

“Pretty sure. I mean, obviously we’ll be careful. But yeah. You and Ruby Rose Del Rio should both be fine with this one,” says Courtney.

“...huh.” Bianca tilts her head thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Well...it might be because I’ve been staring at this dress all day...but I don’t hate the name ‘Ruby.’”

“Seriously? I love it. Let’s put it on the list!” Courtney exclaims.

“We have a list?”

“Yeah, you didn’t cringe when I said ‘Liam’ either.” Courtney places a kiss against Bianca’s forehead, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Liam’s okay. Ruby is cool,” Bianca says. She pulls the dress out of the sewing machine and holds it up. “Anyway...what do you think?”

Courtney glances down at the garment in her hands, a glittering red gown, and gasps softly. She reaches out to touch it.

“It’s so beautiful…”

“It’s for you.”

“Really?!” Courtney’s eyes light up.

“Mmhmm. It’s for episode 9.”

Of course, Courtney knows that this is Bianca’s job. To design glamorous dresses for the show, and especially for her character (well, Farrah’s character). But she can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, a little more thought had gone into this gown. She smiles at the thought, the unspoken premise that Bianca might be playing favorites.

“Can I try it on?” Courtney asks, batting her lashes sweetly.

“Yeah!” Thrilled with her enthusiasm, Bianca jumps up to help her change into the dress. As usual, almost out of habit, she averts her eyes when Courtney pulls off her top, trying to avoid direct eye contact with her perfect, perky tits. She swallows, pulling the straps up over Courtney’s shoulders.

“We haven’t done this in awhile…” Bianca comments, pinning the straps. Dimples pierce her cheeks as Courtney gazes at her.

“I know. You’ve been pawning me off on Jamie.” Courtney fingers a lock of Bianca’s dark hair. It’s only been a few days when she’s suspected that Bianca was intentionally avoiding her at work - not as much as during the dark days this summer, but definitely enough to notice. She wonders why, and misses those moments that they used to have together, just the two of them, Bianca’s fingers grazing her skin, eyes wandering over her body. As silly as it sometimes seems, that wardrobe trailer was a huge part of their evolving relationship. Courtney looks into Bianca’s eyes, waiting for an explanation.

“Well, I’m trying to stay focused. Especially lately, with all the lingerie we’ve got you in. It’s...distracting.”

Courtney licks her lips, moving closer, enough to feel Bianca’s heartbeat, a delightful shiver running through her body. “Yeah?”

It wasn’t ever Courtney’s intention to wait this long. She’s been craving Bianca’s touch since the day they met, and if anyone told her a couple of months ago that she’d be the one afraid to take their relationship to the next level, she’d have laughed in their face.

But it was difficult to separate sex from the sting of rejection. It was why, as much as she defended their relationship to her friends, she still had that uneasiness in her chest whenever things got too heated. It was why she kept up a wall, tried to protect herself.

Now though, she’s feeling a shift. Seeing Bianca’s eyes go dark, feeling her pounding heart beat--it no longer makes her feel nervous. It no longer reminds her of pain. Instead, the butterflies in her chest are from excitement, the anticipation of what’s to come. What would happen if she lunged forward, pushed Bianca onto the table? It’s what she wanted all along--Bianca’s hair clutched in her fists, hips arching up to meet her. Courtney can’t help imagining how beautiful she’ll look when she’s glistening with sweat, trembling, mouth open in a silent cry.

Courtney was fine with the waiting, in theory. But now, it’s been almost a month and she’s wondering when the waiting will end. What she can do to make it end. She inches forward some more, fingertips resting lightly on Bianca’s shoulders.

The hair is standing up on the back of Bianca’s neck, and desire pools in her abdomen, so much it’s causing her physical pain. She clears her throat and takes a step backwards.

“You look good.”

“B…” Courtney’s voice is soft, pleading. She leans in, lips parted.

“I think I need a minute…” Bianca dashes from the room, and Courtney turns to watch her, brow furrowed, wondering what went wrong.  

*

Bianca splashes her face with cold water. She does not want to be someone who makes their partner feel pressured to have sex. She was married to that person--the idea of making Courtney feel even a fraction of the anxiety she felt with Jared is unbearable.

But sometimes when they touch, Bianca can feel her resolve melting, feel her body betray her higher consciousness. And today, Courtney’s silky voice and warm skin are just too much. Maybe it’s the hormones rampaging through her body, but she feels closer than ever to losing control, lust threatening to overtake her completely. She doesn’t want to break her promise to wait, so her only choice in that moment was to remove herself from the situation.

She pats her face dry with a towel, breathing deeply, when a knock sounds on the door.

“It’s open.”  

Courtney pushes the door in slightly.

“Are you okay?”  

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Courtney nods, head against the door frame, eyes soft and achingly inviting. Bianca clears her throat, looking away.

“Don’t worry about the dress. I hung it up, safe and sound.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Bianca tells her.

“Liar,” Courtney says.

Bianca can’t help but chuckle at that. It’s a true testament to how emotionally volatile she feels that she hadn’t thought about the dress. Under normal circumstances, Courtney’s right--it would have been her first concern.

“Anyway, um…” Courtney hesitates, nails picking at a chip in the paint. “I was wondering if you maybe want to take the dogs for a walk? It’s a really nice day. We could take them to the beach...then swing by that new bougie ice cream place on Abbot Kinney on the way back…?”

“Wow, you know me.”

“Yeah.” Courtney smiles, and Bianca nods.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s do it.”

***

Bianca wishes that she were a better person. She wishes that she was brave enough to tell Courtney how she’s really feeling - the physical longing that seems to be clouding her judgment, the need just to be close to her, to feel the warmth of her skin, taste her. Or maybe, what she really wishes is that she had enough self control that it would be a non issue. That her patience with the pace of their relationship was deeper and that she didn’t feel tortured merely by knuckles brushing against hers in line at the ice cream shop. That she could enjoy a moment of light flirting without an irrepressible desire to grasp her by the wrist and throw her up against the counter. That she didn’t misconstrue every touch as an invitation, a dare.

Sitting at a little table outside, she avoids watching Courtney, unable to handle the way she twirls the cone on her tongue without filthy, sordid thoughts racing through her mind. She looks straight ahead, muscles tensing up when Courtney’s knee presses into her bare thigh.

“Is it good?” Courtney asks, gesturing to the salted peanut dark chocolate in Bianca’s hands. Trying and failing to catch her eye again. She wonders if she’s being too subtle - not a usual problem for her, but something isn’t connecting.  

“Yeah…” It is good. And thank god. Because if she’s going to replace sex with food, it better be fucking delicious. Bianca tastes it again, adding, “...perfection.”

“Wow, high praise. I might have to call this a cheat day so I can taste it.” Courtney purses her lips in a sinful smirk, brow arched in a silent challenge.

“Go ahead. Cheat away,” Bianca murmurs as she holds out the cone.

Instead of taking it from her, Courtney guides Bianca’s hand closer to her mouth, licking slowly around the rim of the cone, eyes catching Bianca’s as she chases a drip down the side, taking Bianca’s thumb into her mouth. She traps it with her teeth, swirling her tongue around the tip as Bianca watches, slack-jawed and glassy eyed. Mesmerized by the whole performance, the heat of her mouth. Bianca feels her heart in her throat as Courtney finally releases her thumb, letting it slide slowly from her mouth, leaving a wet print on her bottom lip.

“Drips,” Courtney explains hoarsely, and it takes all of Bianca’s strength not to leap across the table right then and there.

Especially when Courtney goes back to her own cone, eyes still locked on Bianca’s, and it suddenly occurs to Bianca that her vulgar thoughts haven’t been an accident.

“Right,” Bianca breathes.

“Do you...wanna get out of here?” Courtney then asks, eyes raking over Bianca’s body in a way that makes her skin prickle.

It’s incredibly rare these days for Bianca not to finish her food, especially something as delicious as the melting ice cream in her hands. But she realizes that there’s only one thing she wants to taste right now, and it’s not something purchased from an artisan shop in Venice.

Bianca only nods, taking Courtney’s offered hand. She pulls her onto unsteady feet and wraps an arm around her. Every step along the way home, Bianca feels her heart beat faster. By the time they get through the door, she’s lightheaded, leaning on the wall for support while Courtney unhooks the dogs from their leashes.

Courtney straightens up, stepping closer to her. Her face is bathed in golden light from the setting sun. Green eyes looking almost amber as she slides her hands around Bianca’s waist. Bianca swallows hard, chest rising and falling rapidly, intoxicated by the space closing between them.

“You are...beautiful…” Courtney whispers.

A whimper has barely escaped Bianca’s lips before Courtney swallows it up with a kiss, pressing her against the wall, hands roaming over her body. Bianca deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into her mouth. When Courtney’s fingers brush up against her nipples, she lets out a low moan, wrapping a leg around her to pull her closer.

“You really that sensitive, baby?” Courtney smiles against her and pushes a thigh up between her legs.

“Uh huh…” Bianca’s hips are arching forward, rutting against her frantically. If she were capable of feeling any sort of shame right now, she might be embarrassed at what a mess she is, but her body is on auto, responding only to touch. Every coherent thought slips through her fingers like sand before it even has the chance to form.

Courtney lifts the cotton shift dress over her head and steps back, tossing the dress to the ground and taking her in.

She’d insisted about a hundred times over the past few weeks that Bianca’s body was exactly the same, but the truth is, Courtney can see the differences. Her breasts are fuller, belly just barely swollen, thighs thicker...and it’s all working. It’s like everything she was attracted to from the beginning has been exaggerated to a point that’s almost obscene--just curves for days, and Bianca’s heavy-lidded eyes giving her that signature smirk.

She feels a bit weird that she’s so into it, but when Bianca tangles into her hair and pulls her in for another heated kiss, the concern begins to dissolve. Her mouth trails down to Bianca’s jaw, tasting her hungrily. That’s when she realizes the true difference, the real change--unrestrained hunger now replaces the months and months of repression.

Bianca’s nipples are painfully hard against her lace bra, and when Courtney begins to toy with them again, she feels a rush of heat to her abdomen, throwing her head back with such force that she bangs it against the wall.

“Shit!”

“Are you okay?” Courtney cradles Bianca’s face in both of her hands.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” Bianca reassures her, laughing. She knows that she won’t be able to stay upright much longer, and musters up the strength to push Courtney down the hall to the bedroom, tearing her clothes off as they go. Even though she stumbles twice, she doesn’t let it slow her down.

Her head is spinning as they crash through the door onto the bed in a tangled heap. Bianca’s whole body is tense like a coiled spring, desire an urgent need as Courtney’s hands grip her waist, pull her closer.

She arches up, trembling, head tilting back as Courtney’s mouth finds her neck, murmuring softly against her skin. It takes Bianca a moment to realize that she’s asking a question.

“What?” Bianca’s mind is absolute mush. Her skin is burning, and Courtney’s hands are the only thing keeping her from bursting into flames.

“I just wanted to check, before we get too deep...um...is there anything I need to know?” Courtney finds her eyes, fingers pausing, hooked into the side of her panties.

“I...what?” Bianca repeats, panting.

“I mean...is there anything off limits? I don’t want to hurt you, or the baby.”

“No. No, everything is fine. Take them off,” Bianca orders impatiently, raising her hips to help speed things along.

Courtney complies, sliding her panties down her legs, which immediately fall open. Courtney kisses her, just below her belly button, and Bianca’s hips jolt upwards.

“You’re sure?” Courtney is just as anxious as Bianca for this to happen, but she knows that she’ll never be able to forgive herself if she does something to endanger the baby.

“Omigod, yes! As long as you’re not going in there with a wire hanger, we’re fine! Just…”

Courtney’s eyes widen, followed by a giggle, cheek pressed to Bianca’s belly. Realizing how utterly desperate she sounded, Bianca laughs too.

“Shit. Sorry.”

“Nothing to help the mood like a back-alley abortion reference,” Courtney chuckles.

“I really am sorry,” Bianca says, shaking her head with a self-deprecating groan. “I didn’t mean to rush you. I’ll be romantic, I swear.”

“Nahh,” Courtney flashes her a sunny smile. “Just be yourself.”

“Fuck you!” Bianca barks, taking the opportunity to unhook her bra and fling it aside, laying back and gazing at Courtney with a smug expression. “So, we doin’ this or what?”

“Your impatience is sexy,” Courtney says. She crawls forward, trailing her fingers up Bianca’s thigh, watching her face until she visibly shivers. She lowers her mouth to her hard nipple, licking her first with the tip of her tongue, then sucking hard, summoning a moan deep from Bianca’s throat.

Silky blonde hair is clutched in Bianca’s hands, knuckles turning white as Courtney continues to suck, circling the other nipple with her fingers. Bianca’s hips buck faster and faster in a desperate attempt for friction until she can’t take it anymore, a strangled sound coming from the back of her throat as the fingers circling her nipples start to pinch them, sending sparks through her body.

And then Courtney’s mouth is traveling lower, and Bianca bites her lip in anticipation, so hard she can taste blood. She waits breathlessly for Courtney to put her out of her misery, head thrown back, hands tangled into her hair. Finally, Courtney’s tongue rolls against her clit, and she lets out a moan of relief.

Courtney glances up, tongue circling her clit slowly, watching her fall apart. It’s shockingly fast, and seeing her so utterly needy is beautiful. She runs the back of her hand against her, and Bianca thrusts forward to grind against her knuckles.

Bianca flings a leg over Courtney’s shoulder, heel digging into her spine. Her hips jerk, body in overdrive, as Courtney continues to suck on her clit.

“Fuck, fuck!” Cursing soon turns to incoherent moans as she comes, writhing beneath Courtney’s hands, grinding against her tongue.

At first, Bianca is self-conscious about losing it so quickly, but the feeling soon evaporates, warmth spreading through her limbs as she sinks into the mattress.

Courtney trails soft kisses up her torso to her throat. And this is Bianca’s favorite part, the feel of her lips dancing over her skin. The warmth of her hands, wrapped around Bianca’s waist, sliding to her back. Bianca realizes how much she’s been craving this connection. This touch. A moan catches in her chest, coming out as almost a sob.

“Is something wrong?” Courtney asks, head lifting sharply, arms tightening around her.

Bianca says nothing, but pulls back to look at her. Her breath is shallow and she brushes Courtney’s hair back, hands resting on her cheeks. Her eyes are all over Courtney, as if she’s asking a question, silent and searching.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just...” she whispers, a thumb grazing Courtney’s bottom lip. She can’t put it into words, so she doesn’t. She places a kiss to the corner of her mouth, so light and so featherlike that it’s hardly even there.

Courtney’s heart smashes against her ribs when Bianca looks at her.

There’s something about the quiet that makes her feel unsure of herself, but Courtney can’t pull any quips or pleasantries from her brain. She’s so captured in this moment, so very present that she can’t think of anything other than the way Bianca looks under her, eyes glassy and lips parted. The way that she holds her from the bottom. Courtney realizes that it isn’t just a bed they’re sharing, and it scares her. Maybe scares her more than the idea of fucking it up. Because relationships ending, that’s familiar territory. But this...they’ve worked so hard for this. They’ve made the choice to lean into love, to trust each other completely, and now there’s no turning back.

A lump forms in Courtney’s throat as she tries to find words.

“B-“

She’s kissed quiet as Bianca sits up under them, raking her fingers up Courtney’s neck and into her hair. It’s not until they’re both gasping for air that Bianca finally breaks the kiss, stroking Courtney’s hair and gazing up into her eyes. There’s still something unresolved, something plaguing her, and Courtney waits anxiously to find out what that is. Finally, Bianca speaks.

“This is our first time,” she proclaims hoarsely, eyes misty. “Okay?”

Courtney caresses her cheek, nodding. There’s something so pure and innocent about Bianca’s simple solution for a fresh start, and it makes Courtney’s heart melt a little.

“Okay.”

Bianca’s eyes instantly glow brighter, dimples appearing under Courtney’s fingers. She raises her head again, finding Courtney’s lips and gently coaxing them open with her own.

There have been so many false starts. So many near misses. So many that Courtney has convinced herself that her fantasies are just that: a figment of her overactive imagination. But now, as everything falls into place, she finally allows herself to accept that it’s real. It’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s better than Courtney’s dared to dream it would be, even in her most ecstatic fantasies.

Feeling Bianca’s skin against hers, what strikes Courtney the most is how right it all feels. She’s so warm and soft, so responsive to every touch. Courtney parts her thighs, settling between them firmly. Her lips find the tenderest part of Bianca’s neck, sucking gently while she bears down against her.

Bianca thrusts up against her, clutching Courtney’s ass in her hands.

Courtney presses down harder, rocking against her, quickly finding the angle that makes her whimper breathlessly. “You like that?”

“Uh huh…” Bianca closes her eyes, succumbing to the gentle rhythm, the perfect pressure of Courtney rubbing against her clit. She knows that she’s embarrassingly wet, but can’t bring herself to care. “Jesus christ, fuck…”

Courtney’s been craving this contact for so long, and having Bianca fall apart in her arms makes it better than she anticipated. She’s on the brink herself when she sees Bianca start to unravel, feels the nails dig into her skin. It’s not going to take much for her to follow. She raises herself onto her elbows, hips rolling harder and slower now, Bianca’s moans the last thing to push her over the edge.

Waves of pleasure radiate through her body as her muscles strain, then turn to jelly.

“Oh god, fuck…keep going...please...”

It takes all the strength Courtney has not to simply melt into her once she comes, but she knows that Bianca wants more. So she reaches a hand down, wedging her fingers between their bodies to circle her swollen clit gently. A string of pained whimpers falls from Bianca’s lips as a reward, spurring her on. Bianca arches against her hand, clutching desperately at her arm. Courtney takes the hint and pushes the tip of a finger inside her.

“Is this okay?” she whispers, palm brushing against her wet, heated skin.

With a gasp and a nod, Bianca arches upward, uttering a strained, “More…”

Courtney can’t help but be impressed at Bianca’s appetite, thrilled by her endurance. She slides two fingers in, curling them just so, thumb still gently rubbing her clit.

“Oh god, don’t stop…” Bianca moans.

“I got you,” Courtney tells her. With her lips pressed to Bianca’s temple, she continues working her from the inside, speed increasing to match Bianca’s hips, ignoring the growing ache in her forearm.  

“Court…” Bianca says, gripping her shoulder, body still moving at a frenzied pace.

“Yes?”

“I love you,” she says, in between breathless gasps.

“I know, baby.” Courtney can feel her trembling, and presses the heel of her hand against her. It’s enough to ground her for a moment, allowing her to take in a deep breath before letting go.

Bianca’s having an almost out-of-body experience. In this moment, the only thing she knows is Courtney: her sure hands and her tender words, making her feel both secure and precious. Guiding her through wave after wave until she’s so weak and dizzy that she can barely remember her name.

She shudders, her whole body feeling like a raw nerve. It’s almost painful when Courtney eases her slick fingers out, trailing them lightly up her body.

“Shit…” Bianca buries her face into Courtney’s hair, still breathless. “I really needed that.”

“You and me both.”

After a few moments, she blinks open her eyes just in time to see Courtney sucking her fingers into her mouth, punctuated by a naughty wink. She chuckles slightly and brings a hand up to Courtney’s face.

“So...then you’re glad we did it?” Bianca’s chest feels tight as she waits for Courtney’s answer.

“I’m always glad to have sex,” she says with another wink.  

“Courtney-” In spite of Courtney’s playful, happy attitude, insecurity still gnaws at Bianca’s insides. She can’t help remembering the pain in her eyes when they spoke in Bob’s office. How knowing that she’d caused that pain made her hate herself more than she ever had.

“Yes.” Courtney presses a lingering kiss to Bianca’s forehead. “Yes, I’m glad. More than glad...it felt right. Didn’t it?”

“Even though Bob said to wait?”

“We did wait,” Courtney insists. She reaches up to run her finger along Bianca’s cheek.

“That’s true…” Bianca sighs, relieved, finally sure that they made the right decision. Especially when Courtney continues to caress her face, the gentle rhythm of her breathing changing ever so slightly as her heart picks up speed.

Bianca kisses her deeply, capturing her lower lip and tugging gently with her teeth. She hears the faintest whimper, and it empowers her to deepen the kiss, to pull her close. Slow, lazy kisses soon turn passionate, and then they’re rolling around on the bed again, unable to get enough of each other.

“I have a confession to make…” Bianca pants against her mouth.

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes open quickly, intrigued in spite of the slightly dizzy state she’s in.

“Mmhmm…” Bianca trails her lips along Courtney’s jaw. “When I was sleeping here alone...I may have sort of...snooped a little?”

One of Courtney’s eyebrows lifts, waiting for Bianca to explain further.

“I found your stash...” Bianca’s eyes shift down towards Courtney’s night table. That drawer full of toys, the one that’s been taunting her.

“Oh yeah?” Courtney bites her lip. “See anything you like?”

“Maybe?”

Courtney slides her hands into Bianca’s hair, tangling her fingers into her thick locks. She tugs gently, pulling her in closer. “Show me.”

A rush of butterflies fills Bianca’s belly. She smiles slightly, eyes boring into Courtney’s, before opening the drawer and pulling out a harness and smooth purple dildo.

“The big guns, huh?” Courtney heart pounds, reaching for the objects in Bianca’s hands. She begins to slip the harness on when Bianca stops her.

“I wanna wear it,” she says, gripping Courtney’s wrist and looking deep into her eyes.

Courtney’s mouth forms a surprised ‘oh,’ stomach dropping a bit.  

“I mean, if that’s something you’d want.” Bianca clears her throat, eyes now lowering. Almost bashful.    

“Um…it’s not really my...favorite thing?” Courtney feels a little bad. Bianca seems so enthusiastic, and she hates to be the one to burst her bubble. But she’s just never been into that kind of deep penetration.

“Shit.” Regret floods Bianca’s chest, burns on her cheeks. Of course it’s not her thing. She feels like an idiot for assuming otherwise. Her only defense is that her mind must be addled from a year of pent-up desires. “I just thought, cause it’s hands-free, that it would be...I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Courtney lifts her chin and places a soft kiss on her mouth. “I mean, I know that a lot of people like it. That’s why I have it. But I’ve just never really liked-”

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Courtney tells her.

Bianca groans, shaking her head. “I just hate that I killed the vibe.”

“No, you didn’t,” Courtney says, pushing her onto her back.

“Oh no? Then why are we talking and not fucking right now?” Bianca challenges.

Courtney giggles softly, hands sliding around her waist.

“Talking is a pretty important part of fucking,” Courtney murmurs. “How else do you know if you’re doing it right?”

It’s a fair question, one that catches Bianca off guard. She takes a moment to think before answering.

“Um...you’re supposed to have a psychic connection. You just...know,” Bianca says this with a hint of sarcasm, like she’s fooling around, but part of her might believe it. At this point, she’s not totally sure.

“Right.” Courtney nods. “Or, I could just shake you and see if answers appear like a magic 8-ball. That would probably be about as accurate.”

Bianca narrows her eyes. She can tell when she’s being mocked. And while she would like to object, she has to admit that Courtney makes a little sense. Plus, her green eyes sparkle with mischief, grasping Bianca’s shoulders as if she’s really going to try shaking her. So instead, Bianca just smirks up at her.

“Very funny.”

Courtney gives her a lopsided grin, lashes fluttering, and lays her head against the pillow.

“I just...wanna take care of you,” Bianca says. “I want to make you come.”

Courtney bites her lip. Her hands wander over Bianca’s body, dancing over her skin.

“You don’t need a dildo for that. Everything you need is right here.” Her knuckles brush against Bianca’s full, parted lips.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm…so I’m just gonna put this little lady away for now…”

Courtney pushes the purple dildo back into the drawer, and Bianca takes her lapse in attention as an opportunity to throw her unceremoniously onto her back, earning a delighted shriek.

Courtney relaxes, fully surrendering to the moment as she lets Bianca take the reigns, surprised at how easily it’s happening. Bianca smiles again, victorious.

She’s hungry. She craves the taste of Courtney’s skin on her tongue. Kissing her over and over, deep and messy. Finally free to explore every inch of her, discover what makes her whimper and moan, what makes her arch and clench her fists and buck her hips. What makes her cry out and beg for more.

She’s between Courtney’s legs, fingers resting delicately on her knees. Holding her in place with the lightest pressure. Trailing butterfly kisses up her inner thighs until there’s a desperate tug at her hair.

“Please-” comes the choked whimper.

“Please what?” Bianca’s eyes glitter.

Courtney raises up onto her elbows, chest heaving, cheeks flushed a dark red. Bianca lays a cheek against her thigh, wondering how she’s so impossibly beautiful, why they’ve denied themselves so long.

“You’re sadistic…” Courtney’s playful tone betrays her words, fingers twirling in Bianca’s hair.

“Is that a problem?” Bianca nibbles on her tender skin, feels her tremble, muscles tightening. She knows that this isn’t quite fair, but she loves every reaction, every subtle shift in her body. She meets Courtney’s eyes again, leveling a challenging gaze at her.  

A shiver runs through Courtney’s body as she tilts her head, trying to stop her hips from thrusting forward against her will.

“No. Do your worst.”

Bianca smiles, fully prepared to comply with this dare. She runs the tip of her tongue up Courtney’s thigh, then stops, moving to the other side, watching through a dark fringe of lashes as Courtney’s head falls backwards again.

She pushes against her knees, legs spreading more, watching her muscles tense and flutter. The scent is intoxicating as Bianca leans forward, breathing her in.

“Every part of you is so fucking beautiful,” Bianca says, as fingers tighten in her hair.

Courtney bites back another whimper, waiting in delicious agony, Bianca’s warm breath and the low vibrations of her voice all part of the torture.

After another tug to her hair, Bianca lets Courtney guide her head forward, exactly where she wants it, before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her.

She arches up, Bianca’s name falling from her lips like a prayer, and all Bianca wants is to make her say it again, say it louder, never stop saying it. She swirls her tongue, relishing the taste of her. Loving the firm and gentle way she directs her with a fist wrapped in her hair.

“Higher, higher. Yeah, right there,” Courtney mumbles. “Now talk to me…”

“Talk to you?” Bianca lifts her eyes.

“Yeah like...talk into me,” Courtney explains breathlessly.

“Dirty talk?” Bianca asks.

“No. Just…” The right words are eluding Courtney at the moment, so she finishes with, “...Anything. Just speak against my pussy. Please.”

“Um…” Bianca leans forward again, racking her brain, lips brushing against Courtney’s clit. She’s drawing a total blank. Finally, something pops into her head. “I pledge allegiance to the cunt...”

Courtney lets out a noise in between an aggrieved sigh and a chuckle.

“Bianca!”

“You said anything,” Bianca points out.

“Maybe just...sing instead.”

“Sing?!”

“Yeah.” Courtney nods emphatically. “The alphabet song. Happy Birthday. Whatever. Just don’t make me laugh.”

“Mmm...okay.” Bianca pauses, then tries again. “Jesus loves me, this I know…”

Courtney starts giggling again, and Bianca raises her head.

“No good?”

“I’ll make it work. Keep going…” Courtney says, relaxing against the pillows, pressing the back of her head down.

Before she buries her face into her again, Bianca takes one moment for her eyes to meet Courtney’s, glittering mischievously.

“What can I say? I’m having a religious experience.”

“Tell it to my clit.”

Bianca bends down, humming slightly, feeling the muscles in her thighs flutter. Suddenly, she has no trouble finding words. A litany of praise tumbles from her mouth. She feels intoxicated by her scent, by the way she’s getting wetter and wetter. She gets bolder, flicking her tongue.  

“Bianca, oh god,” Courtney moans.  

Bianca’s licks get deeper, faster, lapping her up with such enthusiasm that Courtney can no longer hold it together. She arches upwards, crying out, toes curled. Hands tangled so deep into Bianca’s hair that she couldn’t remove them now if she wanted to. She feels her whole body shuddering with pleasure.

Finally, Courtney stops shaking to find Bianca sliding over her, pressing kisses along her jaw. A shiver runs through her, goosebumps prickling her skin under Bianca’s touch. The weight of her body bearing down is comforting, helping her breathing return to normal. When she finally rolls onto her back, Courtney immediately misses the warmth of her skin. She’s still too spent to move much, but she manages to find Bianca’s hand, clutch it to her chest. When she turns her head, she finds Bianca’s clear blue eyes looking back at her.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Courtney answers, head tilted girlishly at her.  

Bianca edges closer, licking her lips.

The room is quiet and still. The only thing Courtney hears is the dogs out in the hallway, nails skittering on the wood floors. It’s a perfect moment, everything Courtney’s wanted for so long. She brings Bianca’s hand to her lips and brushes a kiss against the inside of her wrist.

“So...that was fun,” Bianca whispers, rubbing a cheek against Courtney’s shoulder.

“I’ll say…” Courtney bites her lip, snuggling closer.

“Was it okay? You kinda threw me for a loop there.”

“Mmhmm. Better than okay. Much better.”

The dimples deepen in Bianca’s cheeks as she meets Courtney’s bright eyes.

“Yeah?

“Your amateur status is officially revoked,” Courtney says, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth.

A satisfied smile spreads across Bianca’s face. It seems like a shallow thing to be concerned with, but she can’t help it. She knows that her experience with women is limited, and knowing that she can please Courtney somehow makes her confidence go up exponentially. She sighs contentedly, limbs feeling relaxed and heavy…

“Shit!” Courtney suddenly says.

Bianca’s eyes fly open. “What?! What’s wrong?”

“I never made you dinner.”

Courtney looks so distressed that Bianca has to laugh.

“Honey. I can feed myself; I’m not a puppy. Shit!” Bianca sits up, realizing that the dogs haven’t been fed either.

“I’ll take care of them,” Courtney says, pulling on a jersey, clearly understanding exactly why Bianca is distressed. “You can relax.”

Bianca rubs her eyes, wondering for the millionth time how she will ever possibly deserve someone this generous, this loving. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just gonna heat up the leftover Thai. I can handle it.”

“I don’t know if the dogs like Thai,” Bianca jokes, and Courtney giggles, tossing her a kiss before sailing through the door. Bianca settles backwards.  

***

Later, they snuggle in bed, empty take-out containers piled on the nightstand. Bianca’s arms are wrapped around Courtney from behind, face buried in the crook of her neck as Courtney plays gently with her fingers. Bianca breathes in her heavenly scent, sighing.

“Sometimes I wish I could just...make myself super tiny and live…” She kisses Courtney’s neck. “...right here…” After another kiss, she adds, “All the time.”

Courtney glances behind her, grinning.

“Sometimes I forget how weird you are.” She twists around in order to plant a kiss directly on Bianca’s mouth. “Don’t ever lose that.”

“...’Kay…” Bianca chuckles, head heavy on the pillow. She can feel her eyelids begin to droop, and she fights it, stifling a yawn.

“Are you sleepy?” Courtney kisses her nose sweetly.

“No.”

“Liar…” Courtney grins at her, a hand stroking her cheek.

“I don’t want tonight to end,” Bianca whispers.

“Yeah. I know.” Courtney presses a cheek against hers. She does know how Bianca feels. She feels it too, in a way. Afraid to break the spell. Knowing that tomorrow could very easily bring a whole host of problems and complications. Wanting to live in this warm bliss for as long as possible.

Instead of letting that fear take hold, she breathes into it, letting it wash over her and then fall away. After another deep breath, she suggests, “Maybe tomorrow will be even better.”  

Bianca swallows, wrapping her arms tighter around Courtney’s waist.

“Maybe it will.”

[notarelationship]

Clinging to This Hating Game 4/?

(Yes I got the title wrong on the last chapter, that’s what happens when you try to post form work)

For the @prompt-a-klainefic blog’s 2017 Reverse Bang

Link to the art by @datshitrandom

the prompt:

Kurt and Blaine couldn’t stand each other in high school, maybe one was a jock/cheerleader and the other a nerd/glee clubber. Or they were bitter rivals for competition solos if they were both in glee club. Now they both live in NY and their friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they went to the same high school.

High School AU, Cheerio!Kurt, Jock!Blaine Rating: Explicit Warnings:  some bullying and homophobic language, teenage sex Word Count: ~3800 (this chapter)

Thanks as always to my superbeta @mshoneysucklepink.

Everything wonky is my fault.

AO3 link Chapter 4

On tumblr: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

Just a quick disclaimer: It just so happens that the only production of Bye Bye Birdie I have ever seen was a middle school production; I have never seen any film version or a staged version done by adults. I did review some high school productions on youtube while I was writing this chapter.

I only mention it because the school version and the movie version have some different staging, and I definitely had the school version in my head. It's not a huge part of the action, but it is in there so I thought I should clear that up.

--

Chapter 4

Kurt did his best to avoid talking to Blaine after their confrontation in the locker room.

Football season was over two weeks later anyway, so there were fewer run-ins in said locker room to try and avoid.

Of course dodging him altogether was impossible, with rehearsals for sectionals and the musical starting up in earnest. But those were both group events, and Kurt could be a professional. In fact it would be excellent practice for when he was a working actor. After all, there was no guarantee you would always get along with everyone in the cast of a show. Kurt convinced himself that he was even looking forward to the challenge.

But he couldn't let it go altogether, so he wrote out a card for Beckham.

“I hope this isn’t too weird,” he said to Tina, approaching her in the cafeteria one afternoon. “I know we were never really friends, but if he wants to talk, or anything, I’m available.”

Tina took the card, but looked at Kurt warily. Kurt smiled a thank you and went off to join the other Cheerios at their regular table.

Kurt was more shocked than he thought he’d be, and definitely pleased, when he got a text from Beckham two days later asking Kurt to meet him at the local coffee shop. Claiming he had to be home early for a family dinner that day, Kurt ditched the girls after rehearsal and went to the Lima Bean to meet Beckham.

When he arrived, Beckham was sitting at a corner table far from the door. Kurt was suddenly less confident about this. DId he really have anything helpful to say? Would Beckham even care? Kurt steeled himself and joined Beckham at his table. They exchanged somewhat awkward hellos, and Kurt went to the counter to get coffee for both of them.

Once they were settled with coffee and a cheesecake brownie between them, Kurt broke the delicate silence.

“I’m really sorry, Beck, about what happened to you. It shouldn’t happen to anyone. Not like that.”

Beckham’s cheek twitched. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything after that, so Kurt continued. “How are you doing?” It was the most open ended question he could think of. He didn’t want to push too hard.

“I’m good.” Beckham fiddled with his cup. “I really just wanted to tell you that I appreciated your note, and that I’m fine. Um, my parents are being very cool, so that makes it easier, I guess.”

“That’s great. I know the fact that my dad was so amazing when I came out made a huge difference for me. It really helps having the support at home, because you can’t count on it anywhere else.”

Beckham laughed, a little painfully, Kurt thought.

They chatted for a while, discussing college applications, hopes for landing somewhere more accepting, and how Beckham felt about finishing school at home. They’d been talking almost an hour, and they both needed to get home for dinner, when Beckham cleared his throat uncomfortably. Kurt sat back in his seat.

“Kurt, can I, um, tell you one last thing?” Beckham scratched his head. “I just - I don’t want you to blame Blaine for what happened to me. I mean, how it happened. He told me you kind of, well - yelled at him.”

Kurt froze, but tried to keep his face neutral. “He told you that?”

Beckham shrugged. “We are friends, me and him. I just feel like you should know, it wasn’t his fault. He told me he didn’t think it was a good idea, that he’d had some bad experiences and he wasn’t looking to find a boyfriend, even after I told him I was interested.”

Kurt wasn’t sure how much of this he wanted to know, but he sat quietly while Beckham went on.

“At the party I just had too much to drink, and I just wanted to kiss him, you know?” Kurt bit his tongue, hard. “If he hadn’t been drinking too I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have let me.”

Beckham sat expectantly, but Kurt didn’t say anything for a minute. He was trying very hard not to get caught up in wondering what the ‘bad experiences’ Blaine had been referring to might be. Had he been a bad experience?

Kurt tried to avoid thinking of that night pretty much all the time (because who was he kidding, he was a still-horny teenager and wanted to think about it pretty much all the time). Had it been bad? Kurt knew it had been a mistake, for himself, to lose his virginity (whatever that even meant) to a total stranger, but he hadn't thought, at the time, there had been anything inherently bad about it.

Beckham broke the silence as it dragged. “It could have been a lot worse. I saw what you went through freshman year - I still see it sometimes, you know.”

Kurt startled a little. He always assumed no one saw anything. But he supposed he could be honest enough to acknowledge that if another gay kid saw what Kurt had gone through he wouldn't feel terribly safe coming out.

After a little more small talk they finally went their separate ways, and Beckham even asked Kurt if he could call him again if he needed to talk. Kurt of course said yes.

Kurt couldn’t help but wonder, though about what Beckham had said - he didn't want to be one of anyone's bad experiences. And how many was ‘some?’ Blaine seemed to be experienced - at least compared to Kurt's inexperience. Blaine even went to an all boys school - which to Kurt seemed like both a teenage fantasy and nightmare all at once - but he couldn't imagine how there would not be opportunity there that simply didn't exist in his small minded public high school.

-

Before the glee club could get started on rehearsing songs for the musical, they had to finalize their songs for sectionals. Kurt felt it went about as smoothly as usual.

“Mr. Schue I don’t understand why you think I can’t handle a lead solo at sectionals as well as my lead role in the musical,” Rachel trilled. “Any professional singer-slash-actor can certainly handle more than one performance at a time, and I just -”

“Enough Rachel,” Mr. Schuester interrupted. “You’re not getting a solo at sectionals. Mercedes is more than capable of anchoring this performance.” Kurt could tell Rachel wanted to go on by the strained wriggle in her shoulders, but she kept quiet when Mr. Schuester held a hand up to stop her from talking. “Mercedes, have you thought about what you want to sing? A couple of options, maybe?”

“Well Mr. Schue, I would love to sing “Beautiful.” I know we did it before for an assembly, but I’d love to really let loose for a competition.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Mr. Schuester agreed. “Anyone else have any ideas?”

Everyone shouted stuff at the same time, but eventually they all agreed that it was a good idea to use songs they had in their pocket from past rehearsals. They would open with “Bad Romance,” with Kurt and all the girls but Mercedes on vocals and using the costumes they already had. A costume change would give Mercedes time to come out solo for the start of her song, and the whole glee club could join her for the finish.

For the remaining boys they decided to go with “Whatever Happened to Saturday Night” from Rocky Horror as a final group number. They would need to work out choreography for that one, but it was a lot less pressure than coming up with three brand new performance arrangements from scratch.

“Mr. Schue, if we’re going to use the old Lady Gaga costumes we should probably take a look at what kind of shape they’re in,” Quinn suggested, once everyone was in agreement.

“Great idea. I think they’re still in the storage room behind my office. Kurt? Do you think you can help get them into shape?”

“What? Oh, sure Mr. Schue. Do you think they’ll let me use the sewing machines in the Home Ec room?”

“You sew?” It was Blaine. He’d twisted around to look at Kurt, his eyebrows drawn together in a question.

“You don’t?” Kurt shot back, and Santana cackled next to him. Blaine’s mouth fell open for a second, then he rolled his eyes and turned his back to Kurt.

Mr. Schuester looked confused for a second, then had Blaine, Artie, Puck, Finn and Mike join him in the auditorium to start working on some choreography. Kurt and the girls pulled the costumes out and got to work on them.

-

They breezed through sectionals with a first place win two weeks later, and Kurt had to grudgingly admit to himself that adding Blaine had helped Mike anchor the other boys in the group, and they had performed better at sectionals than they had at any other competition Kurt had been in.

That left just the musical to work on before the end of the semester.

They had broken off into groups after school to work out blocking and choreography, even while they were rehearsing for sectionals, but now they were beginning to layer everyone's vocal performance over that. Kurt only had one song with complicated choreography, so he worked on learning his lines and helping with costuming.

Kurt was in the choir room with Brittany inventorying the men’s pants they had and that they thought they could use convincingly (wool tweed trousers - yes; striped polyester clown pants - no), when Santana and Blaine came through the door, pushing each other playfully and laughing. They’d been spending a lot of time rehearsing together, and Kurt could see Santana was growing fond of him, in her own inappropriate way.

“Can we help you?” Kurt held back an icy glare. He loved Santana but she could be unpredictable.

“Cool your jets, Lady Hummel,” Santana said. “Schue sent us down to see if you'd found any costumes that might fit us yet.” She tugged Brittany up with one hand and pulled her towards the empty office. “So bang on the wall when you’ve got something,” she said, as the door clicked shut behind her.

Blaine looked up from where he was poking at a pile of shirts Kurt had laid out over the piano.

“Mr. Schue said we might need to bring stuff from home if there wasn’t anything that would work.” Blaine paused, looking at the various piles of clothes around the room. “I didn't realize you were into this stuff Kurt. I’ve rarely seen you out of your uniform.” Then Blaine turned, and caught his eye, and winked.

Kurt’s eyes went wide and he had to forcibly keep his jaw from dropping. He looked down at his uniform. Sue required them to wear it any time the Cheerios were in season, and even though he did not participate on the basketball cheer squad, he was a team leader so he was required to wear his uniform anyway.

“I am required to wear my uniform, but I can assure you I have a closet full of highly fashionable habiliments at home.”

Blaine turned to face Kurt, leaning his ass that Kurt had definitely not been staring at against the piano.

“You know Kurt, don’t you think it’s about time we bury whatever hatchet there is -”

Blaine’s mouth snapped shut when Santana and Brittany tumbled back out through the door to Mr. Schuester’s office, giggling.

“I hope we didn’t interrupt you explaining the birds and bees to young Master Hobbit here, Hummel-fairy.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. They were friends but sometimes she just couldn’t help herself, and he knew it. The only way to manage her was to give it back, just as crudely.

“Maybe the two of you could just give us a demonstration,” Kurt proposed, his hands snapping to his hips. Kurt watched Blaine’s expression move from embarrassed to annoyed to horrified.

Santana smirked, looking between the two of them as if she’d just cornered dinner.

“I’d be happy to, but I don’t think we’ve got the right parts.” She took a few steps closer to Blaine, then grabbed his ass. “But if you want I can show you where everything’s supposed to go.”

“I, no, no thanks. I don’t need anyone to demonstrate anything, thanks Santana,” Blaine protested, squirming away from her. He shook his head, as if removing the last 10 minutes from his brain. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said, scuttling out of the choir room.

Santana snapped her fingers, squinting at Kurt. “I like him.”

Kurt exhaled loudly and went back to sorting the costumes. “I think you just scarred him for life.”

“You did have your claws out Santana. You might have drawn blood,” Brittany said.

“Nah,” Santana said, smiling at Brittany before looking out the door Blaine had escaped through. “We’re actually getting along great. He works hard, he’s an actually nice guy, as nauseated as it makes me to say it.”

She wandered off to look at her reflection in the office window, fixing her ponytail and adjusting her bra straps as she went on.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you two got off on the wrong foot so fast. In another universe you’d be sharing awkward gay firsts in the back seat of that ugly hybrid he drives.”

Kurt’s spine locked and he shot a glance at Brittany - who was looking at her phone and not paying any attention to him or to Santana. “Why on earth would you say something like that?”

Santana eyed him suspiciously through the reflection.

“What aren’t you telling me Hummel?” She turned around. “Please don’t tell me all this hate you’ve got going on for the short-stack is just masking a secret passion you’re both too frightened to admit to, because that would be entirely too perfect. And utterly cliched.” Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him.

If Kurt was capable of anything, it was hiding how he really felt about anything, and anyone. Even if they were stupidly attractive. And he didn’t even like Blaine. He set his jaw and stared right back. “He stole my lead solo and my lead role,” he bit out. And everyone who hated me loves him.“The hate is real enough Santana.”

-

By the time the date of the final dress rehearsal arrived, everyone was exhausted and ready to perform. They had cobbled together costumes that worked, Rachel had enough spotlight on her to be happy, and no one had tripped or fallen over anyone else in several days.

The year before, Mr. Schuester had set up a video camera to record the final dress, so that they all could watch together and make further tweaks before the curtain went up two nights later, and he did the same this year. As disappointed as he was to not have a bigger role, he was proud of what he’d managed to do with what he had, and he felt he’d honed his comedy chops in the role well enough. After all, it could never hurt to have another weapon in your acting arsenal.

They all gathered in the choir room, where a big screen had been set up for them to watch the video. Kurt was surprised when Blaine took a seat behind him, instead of the front row with Rachel where he usually sat, but he shrugged it off. When Quinn and the girls came in Quinn took her spot to one side of Kurt, but Santana and Brittany climbed one extra row and sat with Blaine. Quinn looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

“What? I thought I’d mix it up a little,” Santana hedged.

Blaine leaned over closer to Quinn, and his hand gripped the back of Kurt’s chair. “We’ve got a lot of scenes together so we wanted to be able to comment if necessary.”

“We have a lot of scenes too,” Quinn said to Blaine. She hadn’t cared whether or not she had a song for the musical, so had happily taken the role of Albert’s mother.

“Do you want to sit over here?” Blaine asked, patting the chair on the other side of him. Kurt leveled his iciest bitch-glare at Quinn.

Not at all,” she said sweetly. “Just let me know if you have any notes for me too. We can compare after.” Kurt squeezed her knee in thanks.

Kurt was surprised at how good they all looked. Of course it was poorly recorded, and looked like a high school production, but they could really sing, and some of them could even act.

They all commented throughout, some loudly, some to the person sitting next to them, and some just to themselves. Kurt hadn’t been sure, but he’d thought he’d heard laughing during his scenes, which he supposed was a good thing, since he had dialed up the camp to eleven.

When Kurt’s big number came up, he tried to watch critically. They had to change the key, because there was no way his countertenor was going to be able to sing the baritone called for in the role, but it was working. He and Mercedes danced around each other without missing too many steps, and Artie as Kim’s younger brother did a serviceable job.

And he definitely heard laughing behind him

He was about to turn around and glare when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He could feel Blaine’s breath across his ear before he spoke. His nose bumped against Kurt’s temple.

“Kurt you are hilarious,” he whispered. “Your timing is amazing!”

Kurt leaned back too fast, his nose bumping Blaine’s, and he felt Blaine suck in a sharp breath as he pulled back.

“I’m sorry, sorry” Blaine whispered. Even in the dark Kurt could see a shadow cross Blaine’s face, his eyes wide and nervous.

Kurt shook his head. “No, it’s okay,” Kurt whispered. “And thanks.”

Kurt turned to face the screen again. He did not need to be having any kind of thoughts about Blaine Anderson.

-

All four performances went off without a hitch, surprising everyone. Well, Kurt did find Quinn making out rather intensely with Puck in a deserted supply room, celebrating together after their last performance. Puck just punched Kurt on the shoulder with an unconcerned ‘s’up’ as he walked out, leaving Quinn and Kurt alone in the closet. Kurt shut the door, cornering her.

“Oh my god Quinn, what are you thinking?” He kept his voice to a whisper; the last thing he wanted was for anyone to hear.

Quinn gave him a soft smile. “Oh don’t worry Kurt.”

Kurt stared at her, blinking repeatedly and throwing his arms up in surrender. “Do you not remember what happened to you last time you got involved with him? I mean, yeah, he can be charming when he’s not being an utterly, utterly selfish sleazeball.” Kurt shook his head sharply.

“I’m sure I remember being pregnant, Kurt,” Quinn snapped.

Kurt was about to open his mouth but shut it when he saw the angry hurt in her eyes, and his own shock at seeing her with Puck waned slightly. He considered his next words carefully.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that” he apologized, edging away from his shocked reaction. “But Quinn, are you really sure this is a good idea?” It was hard for him to fathom. They were so close to getting out of Ohio, out of Lima. The thought that she would get involved with Puck again at this point confused him.

Quinn shrugged. “I’m not that same girl anymore Kurt. And I think I just decided that it was okay to have something for me.” She sighed. “Not every relationship has to be forever, and I’m okay with letting this be what it is, just for now.” Quinn smiled and squeezed his arm. “Now come on, we need to get to the party before everyone thinks there’s something going on between us.”

By the time they made it back to the choir room, half the cast had stripped out of their costumes, there were pizza boxes everywhere, and Puck was spraying Mike and Blaine with non-alcoholic champagne.

Kurt watched Blaine as he pulled a slice of pizza out of a random box. He was wearing sweats and a tank top with his hair still styled like the character he'd been playing for the past few days, and Kurt could feel his skin heat up. He thought about what Quinn had said, and wondered if maybe, just for a little while, he could stop worrying so much and just enjoy the moment.

“Hey,” Blaine appeared at his elbow, a paper plate with a slice of pizza in each hand. “Pizza?”

Blaine’s shirt was soaked, and he smelled a lot like apple cider. He had a hopeful expression on his face, like he was worried Kurt would say no to pizza.

“Sure,” Kurt said, trying to return the sentiment and look pleased as he took the offered slice. He was happy to have the offer. He just wasn’t entirely sure he knew how to convey that to someone. “Who doesn’t like pizza?”

Blaine bit his bottom lip, but his smile dialed up a notch. “Great.”

They chewed in silence for a while, watching their friends enjoy themselves.

“So, uh, Kurt,” Blaine started. “What are your plans for the rest of the semester?”

Kurt shrugged. “Study for finals, any extra credit I can get.”

“Ah yes. Have to maintain that GPA.”

Kurt shot him a glance, wondering if Blaine was mocking him. The grimace on Blaine’s face suggested that maybe he was mocking himself a little bit. Kurt flashed back to what Blaine had said about his parents being able but not entirely willing to pay for him to study performing.

“Well, not all of us get to be so sure our talent will be recognized.” Kurt knew it sounded bitter, and he almost regretted saying it when he saw Blaine’s startled expression.

“Kurt, I -”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” He wondered if every conversation they had would be awkward. “You are, um, very talented. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of options.”

Blaine flushed pink, but Kurt couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or something else. “You will too. I don’t know how you couldn’t.”

Kurt laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “Crossing my fingers.”

“Yeah.” Blaine smiled, but looked somewhat crestfallen as he folded his plate in half. “I guess I’ll see you in class. Good luck on your finals.”

Kurt watched as Blaine gathered his book bag and random items of clothing from around the room, saying goodbye to everyone along the way. Kurt knew why he was so prickly around people, and it had served him well, had made it possible to get through high school. For the first time, though, Kurt wondered if it might be okay if he started to smooth out some edges.