Let you put your hands on me in my skin tight jeans

Kurt's sweaty but satisfied when he tries to disentangle his limb from the man on top of him under the sheet. The Gin cursing through Kurt’s veins - so many Gin and Tonics, why did he drink so many Gin and Tonics? - makes it difficult to coordinate them though. The man he’s in bed with isn’t faring much better before he gives up and unceremoniously slumps down on top of Kurt.

“I should go home,” he slurs, “but I left my car at the club. Where do you live again?”

Gosh, they are both so drunk, Kurt thinks. How did this even happen? He doesn’t do one night stands, has never before slept with a guy the same night he met him. And now there’s a stranger in his bed who doesn’t even remember how they got to Kurt’s place it seems. His two roommates are going to have a field day with this if they find out. He doesn’t even know if they are both home - just hopes he wasn't too loud when he let a stranger fuck him. Kurt can feel his cheeks heat up from just thinking about what they’ve done. So unlike him.

“You can’t drive home, you’re drunk,” he tells the man with the ridiculously curly hair lying heavily on top of him. “And could you move, you’re getting a little heavy.”

Blake - Kurt thinks his name is Blake - turns bright red and quickly rolls off Kurt, taking the sheet with him. Kurt fights the urge to cover himself. He just had sex with this man - there’s no point in being modest now.

“Can’t call a cab,” Blake mumbles and then he says something that sounds like ‘press might find out’, but Kurt’s chalks it up to being drunk and misunderstanding his ‘date’s’ slurred speech.

“How’d we get here?” Blake suddenly turns back to Kurt. Kurt grabs the edge of the sheet and covers himself before replying.

“It’s a bit fuzzy, but I know we walked. They kicked us out of that bar we met in but you knew this after hours bar so we went there and then we got food from this really horrible Pizza place…”

“… and then you said you had better frozen pizza at your place,” the stranger remembers, “and we came here.”

Earlier Tonight

Four weeks after graduation, an email sends him spiraling. Kurt puts on his tightest pair of black jeans - the ones where you either wear a thong or nothing at all so he goes with a thong because no underwear at all sounds unhygienic - his favorite knee high, black lace up boots, and black tank top showing off his muscular arms, before he sprays his hair into submission and borrows Santana’s mascara and black eyeliner. He wants to get drunk tonight and with that outfit he’s sure he’ll get a few guys to buy him a drink in exchange for some grinding on the dance floor since he can’t actually afford to get drunk.

Four years he’s spent at NYU studying musical theater and nine times out of ten he still doesn’t get a call back, if he’s invited to audition at all. At some point he’ll probably have to tell his dad that he’s wasted thousands of dollars on an education for Kurt that will never get him a job. Not when he’s too girly, his voice too high pitched, too strange - all PC expressions when what people actually want to say is too gay. For the past two years he’s told himself that things will change once he graduates and has his diploma, that shows were afraid to hired him because he was still in school and couldn’t fully commit, but he hasn’t had a single audition since he graduated, longer than that actually. So he needs to get drunk but not at home with his room mates who are the same age but both successful already. He needs a gay bar where everyone else is just as gay and understands what Kurt is dealing with. Because it doesn’t matter that civil marriage has been legalized in the country against the wishes of King Richard, Kurt still got verbally attacked by homophobes almost daily.

Google tells him that Scandals, a gay bar near Columbia University has the best drinks deal for the night which suits him well because it isn’t too far from his apartment in Northern Manhattan. After stuffing his keys, cellphone and wallet into his pocket - he’s always surprised when he can fit anything into his pockets - he takes the 1 train downtown. It’s still early when he gets to the bar and there’s no queue fortunately since it’s a Tuesday and lots of students have left the city for summer break. After showing his ID to the bouncer, Kurt heads straight to the bar - the music is loud but at a level where you can still talk to people without having to scream into their ears - and takes a seat on an empty bar stool. A look a around the room tells him that most people have come in groups - occupying the booths on both sides of the dance floor - but for the time being Kurt’s content to watch the few dancers shaking their delicious asses to Katy Perry’s new summer hit while he waits for the bartender to look his way.

“Is this seat taken?” a smooth tenor asks and Kurt swivels around. Nearly all bar stools are still free, so the stranger’s intent is clear. “I’d love to get you a drink - no strings attached.”

Kurt rakes his eyes over the stranger’s body. He’s roughly Kurt’s hight and age, maybe a few years older but definitely under thirty and has the most ridiculously curly hair Kurt’s ever seen on a guy. And don’t get him started on the eyebrows. His fingers itch for a pair of tweezers to give them a good trim. Not that the stranger isn’t attractive. Quite the opposite, he’s incredibly hot in his tight red jeans and black polo shirt that shows off the muscles in his arms. Kurt’s pretty toned himself thanks to years of dance classes but the stranger looks like he’s been carved out of marble or works as a trainer in a gym. He’d be stupid to turn down a drink.

“I’ll have what you’re having,” he smiles before offering his hand to shake. “I’m Kurt.”

“Nice to meet you, Kurt,” the stranger beams at him before he flags down the bartender and orders two Gin and Tonics. “Do you come here a lot? I’ve only recently moved to the city and this guy I met online recommended this place.”

The stranger looks at him in earnest so Kurt doesn’t tease him for the lame pick up line.

“Sometimes. Most of my friends are straight so we usually just go to karaoke bars. By the way, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Blake,” the handsome stranger says but he sounds a bit uncertain when he says it and Kurt laughs.

“Are you asking or telling me?”

The bartender returns with their drinks and Blake clinks their glasses together before they both take a sip.

“Ah,” Kurt sighs, “exactly what I need tonight.”

“Bad day?” Blake asks and Kurt nods.

“But I’d rather not talk about it. Tonight I want to drink until I forget.”

“I can get on board for that,” Blake laughs and orders two more long drinks while their glasses are still full.

Blake asks him about his favorite spots in New York, things Kurt thinks he should check out and recommendations for restaurants and karaoke bars. They discover their shared love of music though it turns out that Blake is a Katy while Kurt’s partial to Lady Gaga. So when Born This Way starts blasting from the speaker, they down their second drink and head out to the dance floor where Blake’s hands find their way around Kurt’s waist and pulls him close but not so close that their groins actually touch. Kurt’s a bit surprised but then he remembers Blake’s ‘no strings attached’ and just enjoys dancing with a good looking guy.

They are back at the bar and on drink number four when Kurt gasps. “Now I know who you remind me of.” It’s been years since he’s last seen a picture of Prince Blaine, not since the Prince joined the army four years ago following in his father’s and older brother’s footsteps. “Prince Blaine.”

Blake laughs and rubs the back of his hand with his right hand. “I get that all the time but have you see my hair. Also, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

Kurt giggles, a little tipsy after the three Gin and Tonics. “It’s a compliment, trust me,” he says before leaning in conspiratorially. “I had a huge crush on Prince Blaine when I was young. Was convinced I would marry him one day. ”

“Not Prince Cooper,” Blake teases him and Kurt shakes his head adamantly.

“I was like thirteen and Prince Cooper twenty  so he seemed way too old for me, but Prince Blaine, he’s only two years older than me, and to be honest, I think he’s the much cuter of the two Princes. Don’t you agree?”

“Oh, um, I’ve never really thought about that,” Blake evades the question and Kurt slaps his leg playfully.

“Now you’re just lying. What gay boy hasn’t fantasized about hooking up with one of the Princes at least once.”

His new friend blushes and clears his throat a few times before he responds. “Well, I guess Prince Cooper’s a little too stuck up for my taste.”

“Good answer,” Kurt grins. “Too bad they’re straight.”

“Do you want another drink?” Blake asks and downs the contents of his glass in one go.

Kurt’s pleasantly buzzed already but so far Blake hasn’t demanded anything in exchange for the drinks so he nods. As long as Blake doesn’t suddenly think he’s owed a quicky in the bathroom for buying Kurt drinks, he’ll stay and talk a bit longer.

They dance some more between drinks - neither of them stupid enough to leave a drink unattended because they’ve all heard the horror stories of date rape drugs slipped into drinks of unsuspecting men and women - and suddenly it’s two in the morning and they are being kicked out of the club.

Kurt shivers lightly because the night’s cooler than he thought it would be and he’s all sweaty from dancing. But he’s got no auditions lined up and no leads on shows with open auditions so for once he doesn’t care if he gets a cold.

“I’d offer you a jacket but I didn’t bring one either,” Blake says and Kurt smiles at him. “I know this after hours place though. A friend of mine went to Columbia and he took me there once when I was visiting. Unless you want to go home?”

Kurt doesn’t even think about it and shakes his head immediately. “Lead the way,” he says and links his arm with Blake’s.

They move on to Tequila shots because its 2 for 1 night at Rick’s Bar, a little hole in the wall place that reminds Kurt of a 1920s speakeasy. Blake gets him to talk about what’s been troubling him with just two shots and before long, Kurt’s a blubbering mess in Blake’s arms.

“I’m sure something will come along. You wouldn’t have gotten into that school if you didn’t have talent,” Blake assures him after getting a napkin from the bar so Kurt can wipe his face.

“I guess,” he agrees, the alcohol messing with his emotions, but he’s always been more of a weepy drunk than an aggressive drunk.

Blake gets them one more round and Kurt, embarrassed about crying onto Blake’s shirt, downs another tequila shot before sucking on a slice of lemon.

“I’ll have to get some food before I go to bed,” he groans after spitting the lemon slice back out. “Otherwise, I’ll have a massive hangover tomorrow. Not that I have a reason to get out of bed but I’d still like to avoid it.”

“I think we passed a pizza place on the way here. Do you wanna check if it’s still open?”  Blake asks and Kurt agrees since they aren’t too far from his apartment - only about fifteen minutes on foot.

Antonio’s Pizza turns out to be an all night restaurant, but the pizza is disgusting and Kurt’s glad they both only got one slice to begin with. They leave their slices on a park bank in case anyone else wanted them and then Kurt has a glorious idea.

“We’ve got some frozen pizzas at my place. It’s not far if you want some proper food.”

Blake grabs his hand and pulls him away from the park bench. “Sounds great.”

They hold hands all the way to Kurt’s apartment but Kurt’s too drunk to pay it much attention. They are both a bit unsteady on their feet and holding hands is keeping them from falling over.

The apartment he shares with two friends from high school - Santana and Rachel - is on the third floor and Kurt thanks his lucky star that the elevator was finally fixed last week. Blake’s standing very close as they ride up and Kurt drops his keys once when Blake presses himself against Kurt’s back while he tries to unlock his front door. As soon as they are inside and the door is closed behind them, Blake turns him around in his arms.

"I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night. Can I?”

Kurt nods dumbly because he’s hoped Blake might like him, but he never made a move all night and so Kurt’s convinced himself that making a new friend is okay too.

All thoughts of food go out of the window when Blake presses his slightly chapped lips against Kurt’s, his hands coming up to frame his face. After a few seconds of closemouthed kissing, Kurt lets Blake lick into his mouth, the taste of tequila still lingering on his tongue. His back collides with his front door when Blake presses up against him and Kurt’s hands come to rest atop Blake’s belt, his thumbs threaded through the loops to keep them from reaching around and grabbing Blake’s ass.

Blake doesn’t share Kurt’s concern and slips his right hand under Kurt’s tank top where it’s come out of his pants, caressing the small of his back while he sucks on Kurt’s tongue. Then it’s gone from Kurt’s mouths and Blake’s kissing his neck briefly before moving on to his earlobe while Kurt pants.

He’s no blushing virgin, but it’s been three years since he’s had sex. Three years since he found out that his very first boyfriend was cheating on him with pretty much every gay guy in the art department after dating him for eight months. Santana and Rachel gave him a weekend on the couch to mope around before they dragged him to the free clinic to make sure his cheating ex didn’t give him more than a broken heart since they’d forgone condoms because Kurt was a virgin und his ex got tested regularly and told Kurt he’d been single for a while. After, he focused on school and used his acting classes as free therapy sessions. Occasionally he went on dates and kissed a few guys but it never went beyond a second date because most guys he met were more interested in hooking up than a relationship.

And now he’s pressed up against his front door with a hot guy between his legs and Kurt wonders why he’s never done this before - go to a bar and bring a guy home.

“Can I blow you?” Blake whispers into his ears and Kurt shivers and pulls Blake closer by his belt loops.

“Shower first, I’m all sweaty from dancing. But you’re welcome to join me,” he says with a wink over his shoulder after slipping out of Blake’s tight embrace.

Blake wraps his arms around him from behind and Kurt shuffles them both to the bathroom, banging into Rachel’s ugly floor lamp as they go.

“Oops,” Kurt giggles before he shushes himself.

The light in the bathroom is harsh compared to the soft bar lighting they were under all night, but Blake’s just as hot under the unforgiving light and Kurt doesn’t protest when Blake unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his pant and slowly pulls the zipper over Kurt’s aching erection. Before they go any further, Kurt turns on the water because he wasn’t kidding when he said he needed a shower before he would let Blake blow him. Blake pulls him back against his chest before he grabs the hem of Kurt’s tank top and pulls it over Kurt’s head, messing up his carefully styled hair, but Kurt, uncharacteristically, doesn’t give a fuck, especially when Blake starts kissing and sucking on the back of his neck while the fingers of his right hand pinch Kurt’s nipples.

“Shower,” he moans because the sooner they’re clean, the sooner they can take this to his bedroom.

Blake doesn’t have to be asked twice as he releases Kurt to pull his shirt over his curls, unbuckles his belt and takes his pants and underwear off in one go as if that’s something he does all the time. Maybe he does, Kurt thinks, because what does he really know about his ‘date’? Nothing, a little voice in the back of his head whispers but Kurt ignores it and ogles Blake instead. Blake’s incredibly tan, like he spends all his time outside or spent some time in the south recently and he’s got abs Kurt wants to lick. Compared to his broad shoulders and strong, muscular arms, his waist is tiny and Kurt wills his cheek not to turn red when he looks over the rest of Blake’s body. He's a guy, he watches porn, but it’s not the same when you have a naked guy right in front of you who you are allowed to kiss and touch. To his surprise, Blake’s circumcised, a practice pretty much outlawed in the kingdom for anyone not Jewish or a member of the royal family. And then he mentally chastises himself because you can’t tell if someone’s Jewish or not just by looking at them. He also mourns the fact that he’ll have to use a condom with Blake because he’s curious to know if sex with a circumcised man feels different than sex with an uncircumcised one.

“Like what you see,” Blake teases him when Kurt stares at his dick longer than what seems polite.

Kurt’s cheeks turn bright red and he busies himself with wiggling out of his skinny jeans with as much dignity as possible which is no easy feat. Blake’s eyes widen when he sees what Kurt’s wearing underneath and before Kurt can remove his underwear, Blake’s doing it for him and Kurt shivers under his touch. And then he nearly falls over trying to climb into the shower because they are both so fucking drunk, but it doesn’t matter because there’s a super hot guy joining him in the shower. Kurt lets him use his favorite body wash and leans into the touch when Blake runs the soapy sponge all over Kurt’s body before dropping to his knees in front of him.

“Are you clean?” Blake asks, looking up at Kurt through his ridiculously long eyelashes and Kurt’s knees buckle, because holy shit that’s hot.

“Yeah,” he rasps and then Blake takes him in his mouth.

The water keeps falling onto them continuously, but all Kurt can focus on is the feeling of Blake’s glorious mouth on his dick. He’s no expert, but he’s pretty certain that this is the best blow job ever though it might also be the alcohol that makes him feel weak in the knees. He has to put his hands on Blake’s shoulder to steady himself, but Blake takes his hands and puts them into his hair. He tries not to pull at the silky curls until he discovers that Blake likes it, makes him moan and every time Blake moans it goes straight to Kurt's dick. It’s been so long and so he gets close embarrassingly fast, but Blake doesn’t seem to mind, doubling his efforts when Kurt warns him and Kurt comes in his mouth with a shout. They’re probably being too loud - he doesn’t know about Santana, but Rachel’s keys were in the bowl next to the door - but right now Kurt doesn’t give a fuck, because holy fucking shit, that was fantastic.

Unsteadily, he pulls Blake to his feet and kisses him messily, tasting himself on Blake’s tongue, but it doesn’t bother him - not like it had in the past. Blake’s still hard, so he shuts the water off, dries them off perfunctorily and hands Blake his bathrobe before putting on Santana’s. Blake has the good sense to scoop their clothes off the floor as he follows Kurt to his bedroom, where he drops them on Kurt’s desk chair before pushing the robe of Kurt’s body.

Kurt feels a little high after his spectacular orgasm and as soon as he has Blake naked again, he pulls down the sheet and pushed Blake onto his bed before climbing on top of him, grinding his renewed erection - he's twenty-two so his recovery time is still amazing even when his drunk out of his mind - against Blake’s. Blake bucks up underneath him, even more desperate for friction. Kurt leans forward and pulls a bottle of lube and a condom from the top drawer of his nightstand - Santana keeps buying him condoms but he’s never used them before - and pushes both into Blake’s hands.

“Fuck me?” he asks in what he hopes is a seductive tone, because now that he’s already let a stranger blow him, he may as well go all out.

Blake nods enthusiastically before he covers the fingers of his right hand with lube. He sinks his mouth back over Kurt’s dick before pressing a finger inside him and Kurt groans because this is so much better than doing it to himself. It doesn’t take long before Kurt’s practically begging Blake to just fuck him and he sighs in relief when Blake roles on the condom.  Kurt wraps his legs around Blake’s waist and moans loudly when Blake pushes into him, moving at what feels like a snail's pace.

“Holy shit you’re tight,” Blake exclaims and Kurt doesn’t know whether he should blush or preen.

He settles on clenching around Blake to get him to get a move on and then Blake gets with the program and all bets are off. There’s no way he won’t be sore tomorrow, it’s been fucking forever and Kurt keeps begging Blake to go faster and harder, uninhibited like he’s never been before, and for a moment he wonders why people have sex sober when it can feel like this, when he can let go and not worry if he’s making weird faces and noises or if his body is ugly. Blake wraps a hand around Kurt’s dick and strokes it in tandem with his thrusts and Kurt swears he sees stars when he comes a second time, Blake following shortly after. He hisses when Blake pulls out and hands him a tissue from the nightstand so he can dispose of the condom while Kurt runs another one over the mess on his stomach. Then the atmosphere changes abruptly when Blake looks at his wristwatch and starts to disentangle himself from Kurt. Suddenly shy, Kurt pulls up the sheet to cover himself but it only traps Blake and makes him crash on top of Kurt where he stays for a moment.

“I should go home,” Blake slurs, “but I left my car at the club. Where do you live again?”

“You can’t drive home, you’re drunk,” he tells Blake trying not to show his hurt. “And could you move, you’re getting a little heavy.”

Blake turns bright red and quickly rolls off Kurt, taking the sheet with him. Kurt fights the urge to cover himself. It’s only been a few minutes since he’s had Blake’s dick inside him - much too late for modesty.

“Can’t call a cab,” Blake mumbles and then he says something that sounds like ‘press might find out’, but Kurt’s chalks it up to being drunk and misunderstanding his ‘date’s’ slurred speech.

“How’d we get here?” Blake suddenly turns back to Kurt. Kurt grabs the edge of the sheet and covers himself before replying.

“It’s a bit fuzzy, but I know we walked. They kicked us out of that bar we met in but you knew this after hours bar so we went there and then we got food from this really horrible Pizza place…”

“… and then you said you had better frozen pizza at your place,” Blake says, “and we came here.”

And now he can’t wait to get out of my bed, Kurt thinks. But what did you expect? he chides himself for his own stupidity. Of course this isn't the beginning of a great love story. You let a stranger fuck you and now he’s leaving. How else did you think this would go? You’re not even sure if he’s name’s really Blake.

Blake misses Kurt beating himself up internally, busy with trying to figure out how to get home from Kurt’s place.

“It’s only about 45 minutes walk. That’s not too bad,” he muses and Kurt tries not to cry because how horrible must the sex have been if Blake doesn’t even want to stay till morning when it’s already four o’clock.

“You can stay over,” he offers on the off chance that Blake thinks Kurt wants him gone.

“My dad will kill me if he finds out I’ve been out all night,” Blake says and Kurt freezes, because fuck, fuck, fuck, did he just sleep with a minor?  Please let Blake not be a minor. He doesn’t want to ask, but he has to. After Blake’s statement he just has to.

“Please tell me you’re at least eighteen. I don’t care if you’re still in school, but please tell me you’re at least eighteen.”

Blake frowns, apparently confused by Kurt’s sudden breakdown. “I’m twenty-four and I’m pretty sure I told you that a few hours ago.”

“Oh thank god,” Kurt sinks back into the pillows. “But then why does it matter if you stay out all night. My dad’s super protective and even he understands that I’m not a child anymore and get to make my own decisions.”

“My dad’s an asshole,” Blake says darkly. “Sometimes he even has someone follow me to make sure I don’t ruin his reputation with my ‘disease’.”

“Is your dad like a politician?” Kurt asks, the sudden seriousness of the topic sobering him quicker than any coffee might have.

“He’s a conservative homophobe who just can’t accept that one of his son’s different. But I don’t really want to talk about it. I need to get home before I get into trouble.”

“And I think you should stay here,” Kurt says, suddenly angry on Blake’s behalf. He doesn’t even know Blake’s dad but no father has the right to control their twenty-four year old son’s life. “You’re an adult and I think your dad needs to learn to treat you as one.”

Blake’s eyelids are drooping and though Kurt likes to convince himself that his arguments have won Blake over, it’s probably a mix of too much alcohol, the sex and the lateness of the hour that makes his guest fall asleep before he can find a way to flee from Kurt’s apartment. After pulling on a pair of black boxers, Kurt’s quick to follow him into dreamland as well. It’s were he thinks he still is when he wakes up a few hours later and all hell has broken lose in front of his apartment building.