Kind of disappointed in how short this is, but I think it's still good anyways.

Kurt's phone buzzed, alerting him to a new text, just as a couple of his teammates rounded the corner and called out greetings.

"You ready to kick Anderson's ass and destroy Dalton tomorrow, Hummel?" Puck yelled, fistbumping Mike in excitement.

"Please, I'd prefer something that was actually a challenge," Kurt sneered, hoping they didn't notice the way he carefully angled his phone screen away from them. "Our team's been unstoppable this year and I've made every field goal I've attempted, they have no chance."

"Damn straight!" Puck replied. "Later!"

He and Mike continued heading down the hallway, leaving Kurt to finally read his text in peace.

Good morning, honey. Hope you enjoy one last day of happiness before the team and I kick the crap out of you guys tomorrow. xo B

Sweetie, why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill? That's the only way I can explain these delusions you're having. Do you need me to come kiss you and make it better tonight?

Haha, very funny. In all seriousness, though: 8 tonight? Our place?

Sounds perfect. Can't wait. xxoo

;*

Kurt allowed himself a brief smile at his boyfriend's ridiculous emoticon before slipping his phone back in his bag and hustling to class. Eight o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

"I've missed you," Kurt said the second he slid into the curved, private booth, one hand holding a steaming hot mocha. "God, being back in school sucks."

"Maybe if you didn't go to one of the most underperforming high schools in the state," Blaine teased gently, reaching out to hold Kurt's free hand across the table.

"That's a lot of sass from a man whose team hasn't beaten ours in three years," Kurt retorted. "And I've told you, Dalton's just too long of a drive."

"I know, I know," Blaine said, squeezing Kurt's hand soothingly. "Doesn't keep me from wishing we could see each other more, though."

"Me too," Kurt sighed. "Or more accurately, I wish we could see each other more and not have to pretend to hate each other when we do."

"Once this season ends, there's no reason for us to go on acting like that," Blaine said. "Maybe by this spring, we can come out, so to speak."

"That's so far awaaay," Kurt said, affecting a childishly whiny tone to make Blaine laugh. "It just figures that I would end up on a surprisingly accepting football team only to start dating my counterpart from our biggest rival."

"We're just like Romeo and Juliet," Blaine said, mock-swooning. "Two star-crossed lovers, fated to be together but kept apart by society!"

"I'd prefer neither of us dying young, dork," Kurt said, though he was unable to keep in a few snorts of laughter. "Granted, we do play a fairly dangerous sport, but if you die on me, I'll kill you."

"I have no plans to die any time soon," Blaine said. "Also, do you not realize how redundant that threat was?"

"Shut up and drink your coffee."

Kurt could feel his whole body thrumming with adrenaline as he paced along the sideline Friday night. It was the fourth quarter, and McKinley was down by six after Dalton's most recent touchdown. Blaine had just taken the field to attempt the extra point.

On the one hand, I want everyone to see how good Blaine is, Kurt thought, shaking out his shoulders and legs rhythmically as he watched the teams set up. On the other hand, I want us to win again, damn it.

Shoving his conflicted desires aside, Kurt focused on Blaine, analyzing every movement of his body to see how the kick might go. After Blaine made contact, Kurt shifted to watch the ball sail down the field and through the goalposts, making him completely miss the incident.

He didn't, however, miss the horrified ohhhh from the stands.

"Wh- Blaine!" Kurt yelled, whipping his head back around to see his boyfriend sprawled flat on his back and Azimio being dressed down by a ref.

Kurt reacted completely on instinct. Dodging his teammates, he yanked off his helmet and sprinted towards Blaine, needing to make sure he wasn't hurt.

"Blaine," Kurt repeated once he was on his knees next to him. He carefully took off Blaine's own helmet and stroked over his sweaty hair. "Are you okay? Is anything broken?"

"Just - winded," Blaine wheezed, trying to smile up at Kurt in between gasps of air. "Caught me by surprise."

"I'll kill him. I'll let the ref kick him out of the game, and then I'll kill him," Kurt said, furious.

"Uh, no, that's definitely - how we go down the bad Romeo and Juliet path," Blaine said, slowly regaining his breath. "No dying young, remember?"

"I'm reconsidering my position," Kurt grumbled.

"No, you're not," Blaine said softly. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and took one of Kurt's hands. "See? I'm totally fine, honey. No need for murder."

"I think I felt my heart stop when I saw you on the ground," Kurt said, leaning in to rest his forehead against Blaine's. "Doesn't that give me at least a little justification for murder?"

"I'm not sure the legal system sees it that way," Blaine said, chuckling gently. "And we'd be sure to see each other less if you ended up in prison."

"Well, when you put it like that…."

Kurt finished his thought by cradling Blaine's waist and kissing him, his relief at Blaine's uninjured state too great to ignore any longer. Blaine responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Kurt's shoulders to draw him closer. Gasps and murmurs filled the air around them, but none of that mattered to Kurt just then - it was nothing compared to feeling Blaine whole and strong beneath him.

"We should probably get off the field," Blaine whispered when they broke apart. "I think we've definitely earned a delay of game penalty or two at this point."

"Whatever, we're guaranteed to make the front page of both the Lima and the Westerville papers tomorrow," Kurt said. "They can give us a break."

"Still, we can't finish kicking your asses if we don't move," Blaine teased.

"Clearly, you've been concussed," Kurt said, pushing himself to his feet and offering a hand down to Blaine. "There's plenty of time left in this game for us to show you who's boss here."

"Big words, Hummel."

"Past victories don't lie, Anderson."

"Loser takes winner out for dessert after the game?"

"You're on."