Don't Matter What'll Come to Be: Chapter Two - Barriers

This was a moment I wrote a short mention about in the first chapter, really, and I couldn't get it out of my head, so here you have it!

Enjoy! x

Blaine thinks that things are getting better with him and Kurt. That's saying something, of course, since they're rarely not good, never bad, but they've been steadily improving. He'd thought that when Kurt found out, everything would be over; that his parts that didn't fit would scare away the only boy who'd ever dated him. The only boy he'd been able to hold doors for or pay for meals with. It was nice. He didn't want that to end.

He'd thought that Kurt would scream and call him a freak, say that he never wanted to speak with Blaine again. He thought at least that Kurt would say they'd be better off as friends. He was really expecting that; Kurt's diplomatic tongue would make it sound like a Shakespearean confession of love, but it would have hurt just the same. Yet, here he stands, five weeks later, Kurt pressing him against the wall of his dorm, kissing him in that way that only Kurt can – not too hard, not too soft, tugging Blaine's bottom lip into his mouth.

Kurt's hands are on his ribcage, one resting on the Velcro, the other on the compressing fabric of his binder, and Blaine's hands are cupping Kurt's face, brushing against the slight stubble. Everything is just so much, and Blaine has never been this content to just be close to someone in his life.

He wants to touch Kurt, to cup him through his designer jeans and hear what sounds he makes. To make him flush and buck up and lose control, but he can't. Because Kurt can't do the same for him, and because he wouldn't be able to go without resenting the bulge, the hardness, the small wet patch that was possible for Kurt and not him.

They've talked about it, of course. The past three weeks have been Q&A, endless discussions of future plans, legislation, hormones and feelings. Kurt has a thirst for knowledge about what he's going through that flatters Blaine to no end, and he never runs out of things to talk about. It was inevitable that they'd breach the subject of Blaine's dysphoria – and his jealousy.

Jealousy of everything Kurt was, really. His broad shoulders and the Adam's apple that Blaine liked to run his hands over, the flat expanse of his chest and tiny peaked nipples, his ability to wear women's clothing without having the figure of a woman. There was a lot to be jealous of. It was all better, though, when Kurt responded; he knew what to do by that point. He'd point out his curly hair and bright eyes, his voice, his arms, his guitar playing, how good he looked in ties.

Blaine felt pretty damn special after all that.

Yet as they kiss, he needs to stop. He can feel himself getting there slowly, the pressure building up in his chest and his eyes about to sting with unshed tears. His ears are ringing a bit, and the panic is rising.

"Kurt." It's strained, both hands on his perfect chest, pushing lightly.

"Okay," the countertenor whispers. He holds Blaine close, burying his face into the muscles of Blaine's shoulder.

It's moments like these where Blaine counts his blessings and thanks whoever is out there for giving him Kurt, and he melts into the taller boy, feeling the tension slowly drain from his muscles. There's sweet humming in his ear, as always, and it's so wonderfully familiar. He's not sure what the song is – he never asks, but he thinks it's something that Kurt's mom used to hum to him when he was upset. Kurt tends to keep those memories close. Blaine figures that Kurt will tell him in time when he's ready.

He's not sure how long they stand like that, rocking together to the beat of the unknown song. Kurt's fingers press and massage at Blaine's shoulder blades and trace small shapes and words into his skin, there. It's nice, Blaine thinks, that Kurt knows. No matter how terrified he'd initially been, he can't shake the feeling that everything can honestly only get better.

Eventually, they stop, and Kurt presses a kiss to his temple before pulling back and looking into Blaine's soft brown eyes. Blaine can tell that there's a question there, can see it in the slight furrow of Kurt's brow and the way that his eyes are gently searching, so he leads them over to his bed. They sit facing each other, holding hands in Kurt's lap in the comfortable silence as Kurt forms his words.

"Okay, so, this is going to sound ridiculously odd, and please don't be offended."

Blaine smiles softly up at him. "Okay."

"And, really, if I'm pushing any boundaries, I understand completely. I just can't get this out of my mind. No, that makes it sound pervy and gross and I don't mean it like that at all…" He trails off, looking everywhere but at Blaine and biting his lip and Blaine thinks he might just be the most adorable thing on the face of the planet.

Blaine does his best to look reassuring, and Kurt relents. "I wanted to know if we could actually be together tonight. Like, in one bed, this time. I know that you think I'll be freaked out or whatever, but I swear to you I won't. I just really want to be able to do this with you and show you that; to show you that it doesn't matter to me. Or that it does, I mean- you know what I mean."

Blaine is terrified, and he's sure he looks dubious at best, because Kurt managed to hit everything he worries about in just a few sentences. He wants so badly. He wants to wake up next to Kurt and kiss him without moving. He wants to spend a night entangled in his boyfriend's arms. He wants to be able to do all of these things with Kurt, be surrounded by his warmth and let him prove that everything will be okay, but what if it's not? What if it all sounds wonderful in theory but Kurt runs off before he even has a chance to get his binder back on? He has to know.

He hears his voice like it's far away, and he knows how he sounds. It's shaky and feminine and so, so scared. "Kurt, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, you know I can't wear everything to sleep." His voice cracks on "sleep," and for a moment, Blaine weighs the option of crawling in a hole to die, but Kurt nods all too quickly, the motion shaking the bed with its vigor. Blaine can't help but grin for a split second at the miniscule innuendo.

"Stop smirking, you dirty boy," Kurt giggles, and this is how perfect they are for each other. His face grows serious again, though, and Blaine's follows suit. "I understand that, and I've thought about it a lot. You need to know that that doesn't change things for me, though. You're still you. You'll always be Blaine, the gorgeous boy I fell in love with on the steps that day." Blaine moves to interrupt, but Kurt keeps going. "I don't just want you, Blaine. Believe it or not, after all this time, I'm not just in it for the sex."

Blaine smiles at him again, trying to find a sign of uncertainty under Kurt's mischievous expression, but finding none, and the fear in the pit of his stomach rises up and grows. If Kurt's countenance is any sort of indicator, it's starting to show. He knows that he should trust Kurt; that he does trust him, with anything and everything, but the what-ifs in his mind are too much. Honesty, though, and courage find their way to the forefront of his mind.

"I'm scared."

It comes out in a rush, but Kurt nods again, slowly. They lie down on their backs, next to each other, fingers never coming untangled. They've gotten used to these talks, since Kurt found out. They've been really talking more and more often, and it all feels so right that neither can find any reason to stop.

Before Kurt can ask him to, he elaborates. He doesn't want to seem standoffish, for one, and the other thing is that he wants this to work. He wants them to talk this out so he can have that in the morning. Sure, waking up and seeing that angelic face sleeping in the same room as him has changed him – forever, he thinks. He can't imagine ever waking up without him again – but something about the closeness, the true intimacy is so striking. He can't let this go without trying.

"I don't want to lose it with you and mess any of this up, and I don't want you to see and leave. I just… I don't want you to leave. That's what's scaring me the most."

Kurt rolls onto his side and tugs at Blaine's hands until he does the same and they're facing each other. "Hey, Blaine?" Kurt waits until he gets a sign of acknowledgment from the curly-haired boy. "I love you."

Blaine rolls his eyes, and Kurt's fierceness is a force to be reckoned with at this point.

"And I don't mean the stupid love that kids think they're in constantly or the love that people have because they know they need support from family; I mean the kind that makes me wonder how I lived without knowing you for nearly seventeen years of my life. I don't even know what I lived for before I knew how it felt to have you with me. The only purpose I could have had was to wait for you, because I know now that no one will complete me the way you do. And honestly, Blaine Warbler, I can't imagine you any other way than the way you are right now."

Blaine slowly reaches out to palm Kurt's cheek, fingers stroking at his hairline. He looks up reverently and leans in to kiss him. It isn't chaste, but it's not altogether sexual; they're softly brushing lips and tongues, barely moving except to lock and relock, faint noises and soft breathing the only sound in the room. Blaine breathes a light puff of air that he didn't know he'd been holding into Kurt's mouth, and they open their eyes at the same time.

"You won't leave?" His voice sounds wrecked, again. This is why he hates crying. But Kurt simply kisses him one more time and squeezes his hand, kissing it softly, and that's all it takes for Blaine to go get changed.

xXx

Blaine emerges with his arms tightly folded over his chest even though he knew it didn't change anything. They were still there, and he could still do nothing to change it. He's about two seconds away from aborting the mission, going back through the door and putting his binder back on, when he hears Kurt's small gasp from across the room where his bed is.

Blaine suddenly feels just so wrong, sees why this was a horrible idea and wonders why he went through with it, and there's a rush of such acute fear that he can only apologize, for what he doesn't know.

"Kurt, no, I'm sorry. Just let me go back in and put it back on, I'm just stupid and please don't leave. I'll put it on and it'll be normal. Or, like, close to normal. It's never normal, though, oh my god, I'm not normal. I'm sorry Kurt, just let me try, okay, please just let me try."

He hadn't realized that he was crying until he stopped talking, didn't know that that had all come out in one breath. A soft noise comes from across the room, and Blaine squeezes his eyes shut. He knows he's disgusting. Kurt's so wonderful, so perfect, so masculine, and he doesn't want him to have to deal with... with this.

He's really not sure how long he's standing there, arms folded tightly across his chest, compressing all of his mistakes. His head is down, and he's backed up against the wall. He's not even sure why; does he think Kurt's going to hit him? Does he just want to give Kurt a clear path for when he leaves? He doesn't know. He doesn't know anything.

But he's not there for long before he feels it. There are familiar hands on him. They start on his shoulders, move down his arms, across to where they're folded against his chest and Blaine cringes, pressing harder into the wall. The tears are still etching marks onto his face and he knows, he just knows that he must look like such a girl. The hands are suddenly around his, though, and Kurt's nimble fingers intertwine with his own, just like they always did...

With hopeful eyes, he looks up into Kurt's for the first time since he came out. Kurt's crying too, he sees now. The noise he heard must have been a sob - but why? Kurt's placing Blaine's hands up around his own neck, now, and their foreheads are pressed together. Through the tears in his own eyes, through the tears in Kurt's, Blaine sees now. He doesn't see the disgust he feared. He doesn't see the turmoil he expected. Really, he sees what he's always seen before: an odd mixture of love and adoration he never expected to find in anyone's eyes. Not for him.

Kurt smiles on a deep exhale, another small sob moving from somewhere deep in his throat.

"You're beautiful."

Blaine scoffs, pulls his head away and tries to shrink back into himself. HE doesn't need Kurt's pity or his patronizing words. But as he does, it's like the taller boy's reading his mind.

"No, Blaine. You are. I don't care what you think or what you expected, you are. Now we're going to cuddle and fall asleep like we said, okay?"

Blaine nods, stunned. It's not real - none of it is real. It can't be.

"I love you. Okay, mister?"

Blaine lets Kurt lead his to his bed, still floating, still dreaming. He allows himself a smile, though, when Kurt turns around and smiles back at him. They lie down face to face at first, both of them seeming completely entranced by the novelty of the situation. Kurt looks like he can't stop grinning, and Blaine play-punches him, just a little insecure.

"What," he asks. His voice is quieter than he remembers it being; quieter than the yells, more like the whispered "I love you"s that he's come to love so much.

Kurt takes a deep breath, gathers his thoughts before speaking. "It's just like... like we're supposed to be this way. I know you're worried that I'm going to go, but... I've never felt more like staying. Does that even... does that even make sense, or am I just babbling here?"

Blaine huffs out a laugh, bright smile and bright eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

Kurt holds his hands once again, bringing them to rest between their heads, resting just below the pillow. "Can I kiss you," he asks, tentatively. It's hesitant - more hesitant than their first kiss, more hesitant than anything they've ever done. Blaine wants to sob again just because Kurt's so considerate; how did he get this lucky?

When Blaine presses their lips together, it's everything. They're closer, they're together without fail. He can breathe for once without the constricting fabric of his binder, and he can feel Kurt against his skin there, through just the thin, thin t-shirt. It's so much more intimate than it ever has been before.

There are no teeth, there's barely any tongue, no roaming hands or biting nails - just BlaineandKurt, KurtandBlaine without barriers. The lights are out in a matter of minutes, whispered goodnights and kisses pressed to cheeks, and Blaine gets the best night's sleep he's had in years.

xXx

There's warm light coming through Blaine's window when he wakes up. He's warm, surrounded by covers and in his flannel pajama bottoms, the baggy t-shirt making him want to stay in bed forever. He moves to stretch, stretch his back, stretch his arms and revel in the sheer freedom of the moment, and - oh. That's new.

Soft lips press into the nape of his neck. It tickles, but it's warm - as warm as the arms wrapped around his chest and abdomen. They're over... over those things, he notices. They're Kurt's arms, and they're right there where they were never supposed to be, but they're not moving. If anything, they squeeze tighter when Blaine moves back, pressing into the warmth of Kurt's mouth.

With low hum sounding from deep in his throat, he shifts enough to let himself turn, Kurt's hands moving to his unkempt curls, and smiles up at his boyfriend drowsily.

"Mm, hi there. You're still here." And Blaine knows he has morning breath and looks utterly ridiculous, unbound and in complete disarray, but he's kissing his boyfriend in the morning, and that's all that seems to matter.

Kurt pulls away for a moment. "Yes, I am, and you're insane if you think I'm moving." Blaine laughs. It's slow and sleepy and he wouldn't have it any other way. He should've known they'd be sleeping in, he thinks.

As he burrows closer into Kurt's chest and lets himself be engulfed in his arms, it's really not such a bad thing, he thinks. He's asleep again in less than a minute, but not before he sees Kurt's smile. It's in his dreams, and in those dreams? They're really pretty happy. No barriers.

Hope you liked!

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