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Piers Morgan @piersmorgan BREAKING: FBI believed to have cornered #Boston bomb suspect on boat parked on trailer at back of #Watertown residential backyard #CNN 7:25 PM - 19 Apr 13

“So, I think we just had sex…” Blaine looked over Kurt’s chest to peer at his watch on his right arm, which was pinned under Kurt’s shoulder, “um, three times in under 24 hours? I think that may be some sort of record.”

Kurt laughed, “Yes, it might be. You think Santana heard us that time?”

“At this rate I. Don’t. Care,” he punctuated with kisses to his nose.

Kurt hummed and snuggled down in Blaine’s arms. Blaine sighed, not able to remember when he had been this happy and content. If he could feel like this, locked down and with a terrorist on the loose, who was to say he and Kurt couldn’t feel like this all the time? Blaine knew he had to take the chance; as much as he valued his friendship with Kurt, he couldn’t let the possibility that there could be more pass by, especially if Santana was telling the truth about Kurt’s feelings for him. There was only one way to know.

“Kurt?” Blaine said. “Can I ask you a question?”

Kurt turned and kissed just below Blaine’s right nipple. “Sure. But…first I have a question for you.”

Blaine shivered at the brush of Kurt’s lips. “Shoot.”

“Um…when you wrote that blog earlier, about our lockdown experience? You called it ‘Love Lockdown.’ I mean, I get the Kanye West reference; you write for a music magazine, after all. But still…was that the only reason?”

Blaine steeled himself, mustering all the courage he could. This was it. “Kurt…there is a moment…”

His grand speech was interrupted by a sudden banging on the door, causing him and Kurt to both bolt upright, nearly giving each other concussions in the process. “Get up and put your panties on!” he heard Santana yell from the other side. “They got him!”

Blaine was rattled by Santana’s interruption, but that was quickly overshadowed by what Santana had meant by they got him. HIM. The bomber. That meant the lockdown would be ending soon, if it hadn’t already. He could go home! He looked at Kurt, who had a look of shock/excitement on his face. What was that excitement for, though? At the moment it didn’t matter. He and Kurt jumped out of bed, hurriedly threw on some clothes and ran out to the living room, where Santana was standing in front of the TV, remote in one hand and a Boston Kreme in the other, enraptured by the live coverage of what looked to be a helicopter shot of someone’s backyard and a boat covered by a tarpaulin.

“He’s in the boat,” she said after licking some filling out of her donut. “The police temporarily lifted the lockdown, which you two would have known if you weren’t busy fucking like a couple of bonobos.” Blaine couldn’t help but notice the blush on Kurt’s cheeks, along with a sly little smile, and guessed his own face could be described similarly. Santana continued, “Anyway, somebody went out for a smoke, saw the tarp on their boat was loose and then noticed bloody prints on the side. They looked in, saw the kid, and called the cops.”

They sat down, watching the scene unfold. It was like something out of an action movie, one of those hostage-negotiation plots. The newscasters did a play-by-play as if it were a Bruins game, explaining the flash bombs, rubber bullets, and other tactics the police were using to draw him out, preferably alive. Blaine couldn’t believe it; was this thing going to be over, finally? He thought about how on edge the city had been all week. He thought about his parents and how worried they had been.  He thought about the people that were hurt, and their families. He thought about the ones that died. Did they hug their parents one more time, kiss their sweetheart? Did they say ‘I love you’ to the people they needed to? He looked over at Kurt, whose eyes were glued to the screen, and Blaine realized…this thing was going to be over soon, and they still hadn't talked.

“Hey, earth to Blaine!” Blaine felt someone jostling his shoulder and realized it was Kurt. “You okay? Looked like you were in your own world for a while there. Penny for your thoughts?”

You have no idea, he thought. “I was just thinking about how short life is, that’s all. I do need to talk to you about something...”

“I think I’m going to leave you two alone to talk,” Santana said. She muted the television and put down the remote. “I can watch CNN’s livestream in my room.” She got up off the couch, picked up her laptop, and left.

Kurt watched Santana leave, and then looked at Blaine questioningly. ”Blaine? What do you want to talk about?”

Blaine steadied himself with a deep breath. “Kurt, you asked me earlier about the Kanye song.” Kurt just nodded. “Well, you were right. I wasn’t just using the play on words.”

“Go on,” Kurt prodded.

“In that song, Kanye was singing about not being honest about your feelings. Being so afraid of what could happen that you don’t take the risk at all. You ‘keep your love locked down,’ sometimes you even repress it to the degree that you don’t see it. And when you do that, you lose. You miss out on something that could be wonderful.”

“Or awful,” Kurt said. Blaine could sense his uncertainty.

“Yeah, but how do you know if you don’t try? All those people at the Marathon, in that split second I’m sure they all wished they’d had that one chance, taken that risk, said what they needed to say.” Blaine swallowed. “Kurt, do you remember when we first met?”

“When you interviewed me for that ‘Rising Freshmen’ profile for the student newspaper?” Kurt said. “Of course I remember. You were so nervous, I figured maybe it was your first assignment or something.”

“Well, not my very first, but I was pretty inexperienced,” Blaine said. “Honest to God, Kurt, you made me nervous. You know you can be quite intimidating when you want to be.” Kurt flushed and preened a little at the statement. “You were just such a strong personality, and the way you carried yourself, not to mention you were just unfairly gorgeous. Then I really got to know you and you were so funny, and the way you talked about your family, and your love of music and fashion, and God, Kurt, you were the most fascinating guy I had ever met.”

“But then there was that night.” Blaine closed his eyes for a moment, remembering. “Your dad had just been rushed to the hospital. Turned out it was a false alarm but you were so scared and homesick, and I had the brilliantly stupid idea to take you out drinking to get your mind off things. And the drinking led to kissing, which led to your dorm room, and…yeah. When you said the next morning that it couldn’t happen again, I agreed. Until it did happen again, and again...”

“And again, and again, “Kurt chuckled.

“When Sebastian cheated on me, when Cooper was in that accident, when my favorite teacher from Dalton died, it’s always been you there to pick up the pieces when my world is falling apart. I guess it just finally hit me today how much you mean to me. I thought I just needed a distraction when you texted me last night. But you’re not a distraction, Kurt. You’re a place that’s warm and safe, and I want to be the same thing for you. Be your warm and safe and happy place. Be your home, so you don’t have to feel homesick ever again.” Tears were welling in his eyes and sticking to his lashes. “God I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. I am an idiot.” Blaine put his head in his hands; he felt the cushions shift as Kurt sat next to him, taking one of Blaine’s hands in his own.

“Well then I’m an idiot too.” Blaine looked up at Kurt, whose eyes were just as wet. “You know, when I came to live in Boston it was the first time I could really express everything about me, including being gay. Yet I didn’t think about having a boyfriend; I just really wanted a friend more than anything. Growing up in Lima, I was the only out kid in my school for the longest time. The only friends I had were in Glee Club and the Cheerios, but they didn’t really understand. Then I came here and I met you. You opened my world up; I had never had a gay male friend before. You were talented and creative and smart, not to mention good-looking, and we had so much in common. I finally had someone to talk to who got it.” Blaine knew exactly how that felt. It saddened him that Kurt didn’t have that until college; Blaine at least had Kyle, and later Jeremiah to talk to. “That morning after we first hooked up, when I told you it couldn’t happen again? I panicked. I didn’t know what it meant, to me or to you, so I brushed it off. Told you it was fun, but that I just wanted to be friends. But that was a lie. I did want more. I just didn’t know how to ask for it. I figured I’d rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. When you agreed, I just assumed that was all you wanted too. It felt...safer that way.”

Blaine thought his heart would break. “Safer how?”

Kurt sighed. “Well, what if we dated, and then broke up? Then we wouldn’t be friends, or if we were then whatever caused the breakup would always be this dark cloud, hovering over us. Or what if something happened to you? I couldn’t bear losing you Blaine.”

Blaine pulled Kurt into an embrace, pressing his lips to his hair. “I couldn’t bear losing you either, Kurt,” he said. He thought then of his parents; how worried they had been after the dance, during every class trip for show choir competitions, when he moved to Boston. He thought of the parents of those who died that week. In that moment he felt that deepest love, the kind that can sometimes get overwhelmed by the fear of loss. “You’ve always been there for me, Kurt. You’re my safe place; you always have been, always will be.” He pulled back just enough to look into Kurt’s now-watery eyes. “I love you, Kurt.”

Kurt sniffed and smiled, his eyes crinkling as tears sprung out. “I love you too, Blaine.” He reached up and pushed an errant curl behind Blaine’s ear, dragging his thumb against his cheek. Blaine closed his eyes and leaned into Kurt; a cascading warmth starting from his mouth and pouring into his body when their lips met, moving through his limbs, down his spine, and all the way to the tips of his toes. He tilted his face to change the angle and barely parted his lips, touching his tongue to Kurt’s own. They exchanged kisses, soft and wet and warm until Kurt pulled away. “Wait, just wait, hold on.”

Blaine suddenly felt uneasy. Oh god what now? “Kurt, what is it?”

“I’m still moving to New York in a month,” Kurt said, leaning his forehead into Blaine’s shoulder. “God, we wasted so much time.”

“No, no no no, Kurt, listen to me,” Blaine said, grabbing Kurt’s face and turning it so he could look into his eyes. “You’re acting like New York is on the other side of the country. It’s only a train ride away. If you still want this,” he grabbed Kurt’s hand and held it to his chest, squeezing it tight, “want’s a risk I’m willing to take. We’ll make it work.”

Kurt laughed. “Tim Gunn would be so proud.” He pulled Blaine back into a more searing kiss, sucking and nibbling at his mouth. Blaine groaned into the kiss, fingering Kurt’s soft hair and stroking the fuzzy nape of his neck. Kurt’s hands were firm on his back, grasping at his shirt and dipping into the back of his waistband. Blaine barely registered Santana running out of her room, or the music pouring out.

“Lockdown’s over!” he heard Santana whoop. He recognized the sound of a refrigerator door opening and closing, the clink of glass, the rattle of a kitchen drawer, the pop of a cork. “Captured the fucker alive, damn it, but hopefully they got a few good licks in! I--” There was a pause, and he sensed she was right in front of them. Screw it, he thought, content to keep making out with Kurt. "Well, I see you two are having your own celebration. About damn time. I'm going outside and taking the wine with me. You're welcome to join me and the rest of Boston if you want."

A moment later and the front door clicked shut. Blaine pulled away first with a wet smack, still touching his forehead to Kurt’s, whose eyes were shining with emotion looking back at him. His smile could light the world right now, Blaine thought. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."

Kurt dragged his nose along Blaine’s own and shook his head. "Nah, we'll come back to this later. Now come on, I haven't been outside in nearly 24 hours, and I'll be damned if Santana drinks the rest of my wine without me!"

Kurt pulled him up off the sofa and toward the door. Blaine laughed as he was dragged out into the street to join the rest of Boston as they were freed from their temporary confinements; after all, he had plenty of reason to celebrate.

(next chapter)
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