He's mid-way through what he believes is an award-winning blowjob when Kurt's phone goes off.

Normally he'd ignore it, but it's Craig's designated ringtone. Kurt gives him a sympathetic face before guiding Blaine off his cock and rolling off the bed, perfectly naked, to grab his phone. Blaine huffs, face-planting into the bed as he waits. Kurt's end of the conversation flows dreary through his ears.

"Hey, baby...Not much, just watching Top Model...Where your silver cufflinks are? I don't know, honey."

The idea comes out of nowhere, but it consumes Blaine nonetheless, and he's slinking off the bed and stalking towards Kurt with a devilish look in his eyes. Kurt shoots him a look of distracted confusion as Blaine comes closer, still absorbed in the phone conversation.

"I have no idea, Craig. Did you check y-" Kurt cuts off abruptly the moment Blaine drops to his knees in front of him, his face changing to one of shock, shaking his head frantically as it dawns on him exactly what Blaine intends to do. "No!" He mouths forcefully, but Blaine just grins evilly up at him and wraps his fingers unyieldingly around Kurt. He mouths more "no"s, using his free hand to swat at Blaine's hand, but he sinks down on him anyway, encasing the head of Kurt's hard cock into the heat of his mouth. His eyes don't leave Kurt's.

Kurt lets out an audible whimper before he is able to smack a hand over his mouth and slam the back of his head against the wall, snapping his eyes shut like his life depended on it.

But Kurt doesn't make another move to stop Blaine. So he starts to bob and suck. He can hear a warped version of Craig on the other end now, being so close, and it only drives Blaine to go faster, be better than him.

"Kurt? Kurt are you still there?"

"Yes," Kurt forces out, his voice wrapping around a tiny squeak that escapes along with it. "I'm-I'm here, Craig. Just the TV, sorry." His eyes remain crushed closed, always returning his hand over his mouth after he's finished speaking. Blaine can't contain the grin that overtakes his mouth as he continues to blow Kurt like nothing had interrupted them at all.

Soon, Kurt's hips start to buck forward, and Blaine doesn't argue, cupping Kurt's hipbones as he starts to take him in deeper and Kurt starts to lose restraint.

"I'm sorry, honey, we'll look for them when you get ho!-ome!" Kurt barely keeps it together as Blaine works his tongue rough under the ridge of his cock, right where Blaine knows that Kurt can't resist.

"Áre you sure you're okay, baby? I can come home-"

"Yes, baby, I'm fine! Don't rush home. I'll look aro-oh-around for those cufflinks."

"Alright, if you're sure. I'll see you tonight then, baby."

"Ok-aaay."

"Love you."

"L-love you," Kurt manages little more than a gasp before jamming his finger on the 'end call' button and chucking his phone to the ground with a loud cry. "Fuck, Blaine! That was not okay!"

Blaine doesn't respond, just looks smugly up at him as he continues to work Kurt in his mouth without shame.

Kurt groans, ripping his fingers into Blaine's hair as he begins to fuck into his mouth hard and Blaine starts to choke at the brute force of it, but ever so happily.

"You are going to get it so fucking bad, you little shit. I'm going to spank and fuck your ass into next week."

Blaine is surprised he's not actually glowing as Kurt abuses his throat like his own personal fuck toy. The fact that Kurt hadn't forced him away while on the phone with his husband and getting a blowjob from his lover at the same time speaks volumes to Blaine.

In short, he's never felt more useful. And the marks Kurt leaves on his ass will definitely linger for a few days as a reminder.

***

6:30.

That's their time. Every weekday. Blaine gets off at six and Kurt usually around the same time, if not a little later. Still, the six-thirty time frame allows them time to freshen up before they meet-despite both of them knowing that they're going to end up sweaty and speckled in come anyway. Craig almost never gets home before eight, but Blaine always leaves by then to be safe.

They'll go for coffee, window shop, maybe stop for a bite of dinner; whatever they do, they always end up at one of their apartments. Most often they opt for Kurt's, mainly because his room and bed are larger, but also because sometimes Blaine's roommate will be home randomly and they don't want to go all the way down there just to discover him playing Call of Duty in the living room.

Artificial gun shots do not good orgasms make.

Besides, Blaine would be lying if it isn't a little embarrassing that his home life is so positively college boy, while Kurt is so sophisticated and mature. It may be still near the beginning of summer and school is out, but Blaine still is a college boy, and his roommate Markus is a stoner college boy, and every time Kurt sets foot in his apartment Blaine can't tone down the flush of shame that his apartment looks and reeks of college boy.

Kurt insists that he finds it "endearing" (Kurt's word, not his), but he can tell they're both much more comfortable at Kurt's place. So that's where they end up, tumbling into Kurt's fluffy and freshly-laundered sheets only to mess them up again before Craig gets home. The risk is much higher, but the amenities are much better...and hell, the thrill is greater.

So they fuck. A lot. Which is great for both of them because before Kurt, Blaine hadn't been laid in months and was certainly not getting it on the regular, and Kurt hadn't had proper, good sex with his husband in months either. They were both getting what they needed, and the sex was always fantastic.

They also talk. They discuss interests, kinks, their pasts, favorite foods, worst movies ever made. Nothing is off-limits.

Well, one thing is kind of iffy, and Blaine discovered that about two months into their affair. He'd finally mustered the moxie to bring up a kink he'd wanted to try for a long time. He'd only delved into it once, with a one night stand who had initiated it so Blaine didn't have to. But he'd always wanted to try it again. It's just something that many people frown upon or just don't understand. It makes him anxious to bring up. So far, though, Kurt had been very open to Blaine's ideas and Blaine's confidence (as well as his overwhelming desire to have a repeat) kicked in.

They're in bed, wrapped in Kurt's sheets where they'd ended up at 6:35 with absolutely no preamble. Today was just sex, which happens sometimes, but Blaine had been the one to suggest it. He wanted a head start, to get in one round and still have plenty of time for another when Blaine finally brought up his question.

Kurt is silent next to him, basking in the setting sunlight through the window as well as the afterglow of great sex. Blaine is lying on his side, picking at the sheets with his fingers.

"Hey, Kurt?"

Kurt hums inquisitively. Blaine takes a deep breath and continues.

"I've been wanting to ask you about something? A kink? That I'd really like to try with you."

Kurt's eyes remain closed, at ease, when he responds. "I'd love to hear it, baby."

"It's, um, kind of...unconventional. And...perverted I guess?"

Kurt's eyes flutter open, turning his head towards Blaine. "Spit it out, Blaine. I'm not going to judge you."

It all comes out in a rush after that. "CanIcallyoudaddy?"

Kurt blinks. "What was that? Slower this time, please?"

Blaine sucks in another breath and lets it out slow. "Can I call you daddy? In bed?"

Kurt's eyebrows peak at the suggestion. "Hmm...Never really thought about it."

"Look, I know it's weird and stupid and it's nothing like me calling you 'Sir' and it's totally gross, but it's just the age thing and you being so mature and-"

"Blaine!" Kurt laughs with amusement, placing a grounding hand on Blaine's arm. "Calm down, baby. You don't need to justify anything. Just let me think, yeah?"

Blaine blushes a little, but nods, skimming his lower teeth over his bottom lip repeatedly, nervously, as Kurt thinks.

"We can definitely try it," Kurt finally answers, scooting closer to Blaine and draping an arm around his waist. "I mean, I probably could only get behind this if it stays inside the realm of fucking, but it's most certainly worth trying."

"I just..." Blaine mutters, looking shyly up at Kurt. "I can tell you have a great relationship with your dad, from what you've told me, and I don't want to make that uncomfortable?"

A shimmer of something sad passes through Kurt's eyes. "Blaine...I guarantee there is nothing that could be made awkward between my dad and me."

"Are you sure?" Blaine asks tentatively.

"Blaine, my father's dead."

It feels like the air is knocked out of him, and Blaine suddenly feels like crying. "Wh-what? You never said..."

"I know I never said. It's not something I usually talk about."

"You just always talk about him like he's still here..."

"That's just the good ol' false hope in me, B." Kurt smiles wanly, his delicate fingers stroking soft over Blaine's arm. "Almost eight years now."

Blaine's eyebrows pull down and he shifts into a sitting position. "Kurt, I'm sorry, I never would have brought that up if I knew."

Kurt exhales a sigh that sounds taxing even to Blaine's ears. He gives Blaine eyes that portray regretfulness for even broaching the subject at all. Blaine is filled with regret himself for making it worse. "Blaine, don't give me the sympathy treatment, please. Besides, I already gave you my answer, and it's not going to change. And if you try to change it, it will only make me more obstinate."

Blaine nods, easing himself back onto his side to look levelly at Kurt. "Okay. We'll just...we'll be careful about it, alright? I promise. I'll be careful. And I'll never just assume that you'll be in the mood to...to play like that. I'll let you be the decision maker."

"You can request it, Blaine. And more than likely I'll say yes, or go along with it. But you have to back off when I don't."

"Of course. Absolutely."

"Now..." Kurt says, in a successful attempt at altering the mood, as he slings a leg over Blaine's hips and loom over him seductively. "What do you say we take it out for a spin, huh? Right now. I don't want this to be a sad thing. I want it to be a sexy thing."

"You want...now?" Blaine says, flustered, his hands twitching to Kurt's bare hips between which Kurt's cock is hardening steadily. Blaine's is as well, but he doesn't have to look at it to know.

"Yes, baby. Now." Kurt ducks down to Blaine's face his lips ghosting over Blaine's own. "Daddy wants to play now."

Blaine lets out a barely audible whimper as he goes momentarily cross-eyed at Kurt's proximity. That word pouring from Kurt's lips to Blaine's ears has him hard and wanting more than ever. Blaine at last lets out the word he's been dying to call Kurt since the moment he walked into the boutique. "I...I want to play too, daddy."

Kurt grins, skimming his lips along Blaine's jaw. "Mmm, my baby boy wants to play with daddy?"

It comes out as more of a squeak than anything else. "Yes, please."

Kurt chuckles impishly in his ear, nipping at the lobe. "Daddy's going to make you feel so good, baby. Such a good little boy."

When Blaine nearly comes the moment Kurt lays a hand on his cock, he knows he's in for a rough hour.

***

"You are positively incandescent lately, Blainey. You get a boy or something?" Linda, the store owner, is rifling through the racks of clothes and organizing them before they open for the day. She peers over her shoulder at Blaine, who is setting up the register for the day.

Blaine blinks up at her, a little off-guard. "I-what?"

She twirls around to the front counter, her loose-fitting kimono fluttering with the breeze, leaning her elbows on top of it as she gives Blaine a knowing smile.

Linda doesn't know the half of it.

"You usually look a little dreary. But the past few times I've stopped by, you just seem happier. In my experience, you've either passed a kidney stone or gotten some nookie," She finishes off with a wink.

Blaine scrunches his nose with a laugh. "Oh god, don't call it 'nookie' ever again."

"It's what we used to say in the Stone Age, hon. The other word was taboo," She says, widening his eyes and adopting spooky lilt to her voice as she speaks the word. It just makes Blaine laugh more, but it's true. He has been happier. He's been laughing more. Feels more like he isn't just living for himself.

The sad thing is, Blaine hasn't been able to tell anyone about Kurt. And that part he hates. Which is why the truth spills out now. Well, some of it.

"I, um...I have, actually. Got a boy. A man, actually. Very much a man..." Blaine speaks modestly, and he can feel his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Oh, Blaine! Tell me all about him!" Linda announces excitedly, her tiny, middle-aged frame tensing in anticipation. "Is he cute? Tall? Rich?"

Blaine exhales a small laugh as his eyes dart nervously from Linda's to the counter. "All three, actually..."

Her eyes bulge comically. "No! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"I-well-he came into the boutique one day, and we just...hit it off? Went on a date and we, um..." Blaine clears his throat a little in indication, blushing all the more. "We went over to his place and fooled around a little..."

"Hey, no shame in it, honey. We've all done it once or twice," Linda defends, flipping her hand around in a waving-off gesture.

Blaine smiles gratefully up at her, but he really doesn't know where to go from here. This is where it gets messy. "And we've sort of been getting together every day after work. And we'll talk, or go for coffee, or...you know..."

"Lordy, boy! And I haven't known about this?" Linda asks, looking a little offended. "Blainey, I'm practically your flesh and blood! I'm your paycheck and your self-adopted mother-figure out here in the big, bad city!"

"I'm sorry! It all happened really quick!"

She rolls her eyes fondly, placing a hand over Blaine's. "Well, he's certainly one lucky guy."

"I'm the lucky one, believe me."

"I don't," she says teasingly, winking at him again.

Blaine lets the topic drop at that. Now isn't the time for the full truth. He still wears a smile all day.

***

"God, your ass is seriously like...Renaissance sculpture shit," Kurt marvels quietly, as if to himself.

"Oh, you were alive back then, were you?" Blaine snarks. The back of Kurt's hand strikes Blaine's ass sharply. "Hey! Is this how you would treat real Renaissance art?" Blaine protests with mock offense.

"If it made age cracks at my expense? Of course. I'd smack the statue of David in a heartbeat." Kurt ducks down and Blaine loses sight of him behind him, until the harsh sting of teeth sink sharp and abrupt into his asscheek. Blaine releases another yelp into Kurt's bedroom, whirling his head around in surprise. His cheek throbs dully from the bite, and he imagines the intricate teeth marks that are surely sunken into the flesh. For a glimmer of a second he considers asking Kurt to take a picture, but decides against it the moment he begins sucking and licking at Blaine's hole, now exposed by Kurt's hands spreading him open.

"Oh, Kurt, baby, yeah. Just like that, fuck..." A buzzing sensation against his sensitive rim tells him that Kurt hummed in assent, spearing his tongue and running it stiffly around his hole before sinking in the tip. Blaine grunts, rolling his hips back as Kurt continues to tease at his entrance. Blaine finds himself exhaling in a laugh as a thought crosses his mind. "You think any Renaissance artists gave their sculptures this invasive a going-over?"

Kurt pops up from behind him, lips a little swollen and a lot gorgeous. "That da Vinci was a weird one. Plus, he was, like, half gay, wasn't he? I would not be surprised. I'll ask him at the next Renaissance Artist Reunion," Kurt adds with a half-smile and a rolling of his eyes, before following the magnetic pull he seems to be under tonight back to Blaine's ass. "But I guarantee none of those statues' asses taste as fucking incredible as yours."

"God, you are such a sweet talker, baby," Blaine croons jokingly, eventually fastening his hands next to Kurt's in order to spread his own ass. Kurt places a light kiss on Blaine's hands in silent thanks as he removes his own from the task, instead moving them to scoop up Blaine's balls and stroke at Blaine's dick. "Nng, god, what did I do to deserve you?" Blaine puffs out.

He feels Kurt smile against his skin. "You offered to take off my pants in your dressing room, remember? I knew then and there that you were a keeper."

Blaine laughs shallowly at the memory, pressing his fingertips into his cheeks. "You looked so fucking sexy walking into the store like that. I couldn't keep my eyes off you."

"I could tell."

"I think you know subtlety is not my strong point, Kurt."

"Neither is keeping your ass empty, apparently."

Blaine pouts, scooting his ass away from Kurt and turning to face him, sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Don't be a bully."

"You just called me 500 years old!" Kurt argues back, merely tapping on Blaine's shoulder and making him topple backwards for Kurt to crawl over him. "I'm entitled to payback."

"Yes, but I like that you're older." Blaine defends, his pout not wavering.

"Yeah, and I like that you enjoy being fucked in the ass as often as possible," Kurt volleys back without a hitch.

Blaine stares up at Kurt, calculating, before letting his pout fizzle out. "Fair enough."

"And, assuming you're okay with it, I'd like to put my cock in your ass as soon as possible."

"Yes, I'm okay with that."

"Hallelujah. Now hold your legs open, daddy's gotta get better access."

Blaine moans, obeying the command. "How the hell did you get so good at this 'daddy' thing so fast?"

Kurt leans down to place a loud, dirty kiss to Blaine's mouth. "I've done a lot of things in my life, Blaine. Makes other things happen much easier."

"God, you're so experienced. It's so fucking hot," Blaine expresses, chasing Kurt's lips with his own when he pulls away.

Kurt sets a finger against Blaine's lips to steady him. "Be good, baby boy," He teases seductively, his eyes half-lidded and gorgeous still. "Daddy hasn't even started yet."

Blaine's bones sink into the mattress with a groan.

***

"Dude, where do you go every night?" Blaine whirls around to face his roommate Markus in the kitchen, who has a half-gallon of two percent milk in his fist and a rather serious milk mustache. God, Blaine is glad he prefers skim milk.

Blaine shrugs, running a hand over his shellacked head. "Out?"

Markus rests his elbow on the top of the fridge door that he's yet to close, and Blaine represses the urge to yell at him to shut the fucking door. "But you used to just lock yourself in your room and do whatever the fuck you do in there all day after work. Now you like, get all dressed up and shit. Are you one of those, like, high-class strippers or whatever now?"

Blaine stares at him, resisting calling him the actual idiot he thinks he is. He answers slowly, dumbing down his words condescendingly. "No, Markus. I am not a stripper."

"Oh! Is it that super fem guy you bring over sometimes, but always drag out of here when you find me here?" Markus asks, looking like he just found out the secret to life or something equally as stupid. "You're fucking him, right? Isn't he kind of old?"

Blaine grits his teeth, his fingers curling around the keys in his pocket and creating painful, jagged dents in his skin. "It's really not any of your business, dude. And his name is Kurt. He is not 'super fem' or whatever the hell else you think it's okay to call him. He's a guy, we like each other, and we hang out. What we do while we hang out isn't your problem."

His roommate raises his hands in defense, except one hand is still wrapped around the milk carton, so it's not nearly as effective. And suddenly, there's nothing Blaine wants more than to be able to move in with Kurt and not have to deal with an annoying roommate that has zero cleanliness skills or any tact whatsoever.

Just as quickly as the thought comes, Blaine scolds himself for even thinking it in the first place. That isn't a possibility, and dreaming about it will get Blaine nowhere. Blaine pats his pockets for his phone, wallet and anything else he needs, before heading towards the door.

"Dude, I didn't mean to like, offend you or whatever," Markus calls out, hanging onto the ledge of the doorway leading out of the kitchen and into the main room.

Blaine shakes his head, pulling open the front door. "Don't worry about it," he returns, barely glancing back at his roommate before shutting the door behind him.

Blaine's realizing a change in his demeanor when it comes to how he treats his roommate since he met Kurt. Markus and he used to be totally chill with each other; sure, Blaine would yell at him now and again for having shit all over the apartment or for leaving his hookah on the kitchen table, but they got along well enough.

Now it seems like the only people Blaine hangs out with are older, much more mature people. It makes Markus look inept, almost mentally disabled at the fact that he can't comprehend simple concepts like "clean up your shit" or "weed is not a bare necessity, no matter how Baloo behaves on The Jungle Book which I've seen you watching three times in the past week while blazed". His patience wears thin, and he knows he shouldn't let it because really, Markus is harmless. Blaine has just outgrown him. It is a completely pretentious thing to say, but it's true.

Blaine's had a taste of what it's like to be with someone older, and he's adamant on never going back.

***

The sex is great. The conversation is better.

Well, sometimes. Because, granted, the sex can be fucking mind-numbing.

Still, at certain times there's nothing Blaine loves more than sitting in an off-the-wall diner in the city, staring across at Kurt with that unshakable knowledge that he gets to sleep with this man. He gets to be fucked by him and snuggle with him afterwards and go for coffee-as long as it's in secret. That dulls the excitement sometimes, the covertness they have to take on, but not enough to make Blaine want to ever stop.

He loves hearing about Kurt's day, knowing little tidbits about his job, and having enough background to differentiate his coworkers-which ones annoy him, which he aspires to be, which are a little hair-brained but mean well-and adding his own commentary to Kurt's stories. Two months is a long time to get to know a person when you're seeing them nearly every single day, and Blaine likes to think he knows Kurt just as well as his husband does at this point. Possibly more.

Some days, Blaine can actually convince himself that they're married, or at least exclusive, and Blaine is the one Kurt comes home to and unloads his stresses upon. He imagines waking up in the morning next to him, hurrying to make him breakfast before he goes to work, getting caught around the waist from behind and sinking into Kurt as he continues to cook while receiving neck kisses. He wants Kurt to yell at him for missing the dirty clothes basket when he shoots his t-shirt basketballs and leaves them on the floor, wants Kurt to scold him for wrinkling his McQueen button-ups by not hanging them up correctly, to fight over the remote at midnight on a Friday and end up having couch sex instead with something neither of them wants to watch playing in the background.

The visuals are vivid and detailed and they tug at his brain whenever they're together like this, in a non-sexual manner, and it both scares and comforts Blaine. Kurt certainly doesn't seem freaked out by Blaine's behavior, and that's dangerous because it means there is nothing to prevent Blaine's head from spurring them on.

"Blaine? Did I lose you?"

Then again, sometimes they're a little too distracting.

Blaine blinks rapidly, shaking his head a little to clear the cobwebs. "Huh? No, no of course not. Chanelle was being a raving bitch, Randy nearly got punched in the face, I got it all," Blaine recounts, tapping a finger against his temple with a grin.

Kurt isn't fooled, and the smile on his face indicates that before his words do. "Where were you at, tiger? The Bahamas?"

Blaine wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. "Nah. Just thinking about you. And me."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Were we naked in this particular thought bubble of yours?"

Blaine rolls his eyes. "You just like to think I'm always picturing you naked, you vain asshole."

"No, you just usually are thinking about me naked. Which I have no problem with, considering how often I think the same of you."

Blaine has a serious case of hummingbird heartbeat at the divulged information. "Do you ever...think about me in other instances? Not that I have any problem with the latter..."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asks, a little confused-looking.

"I mean...like...us? Being together? Like, really being together. As a couple." The more Blaine speaks, the stupider and more naïve it sounds. "Actually, forget I said that. That was dumb."

"No it's not, Blaine," Kurt says with a comforting laugh in his voice. Not a mocking laugh, but more of a 'you're only silly for thinking it's silly' laugh. It warms and chills him simultaneously, and he's not so sure he isn't contracting a fever.

He could definitely be okay with a Kurt-induced fever.

"Yes, Blaine. I do think about that," Kurt confirms, laying a hand over Blaine's on the table.

Blaine might be going into cardiac arrest.

"I think about it all the time. Coming home to you, waking up next to you, eating dinner at home with you. The whole shebang. It's a really pretty picture, actually. Helps that you're there too, of course," Kurt finishes off with a joking wink, and Blaine has to suck his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing.

"I'd never argue that you're always the pretty when it comes to us."

"Neither would I," Kurt teases again, sashaying his shoulders forward a little. Blaine throws his head back with a laugh, recovering just in time to hear Kurt say, "But really, you are so gorgeous, Blaine. The first time I see you every day, you kind of take my breath away."

Blaine inhales sharply, as if trying to take advantage of the air himself so he can give it to Kurt. "Every second I'm with you, I feel like I have trouble breathing at all. But then I realize that you make me feel so alive, make everything so easy, it's like I don't even have to breathe."

Kurt surges forward, their lips colliding together, and just like that Blaine feels the stored air go out of him in the form of a squeak of unexpectedness. Kurt's lips are so soft and a little sweet from the fruity drink he'd ordered, but they pierce to Blaine's soul with little-to-no effort. When they part, their foreheads rest against one another and Blaine's pulse is once again perilously high. Kurt's breath washes over him like new life, and his next words stick to Blaine's heart like nothing else he's ever said. "You make it so hard for me to not want forever with you."

He could almost suggest that they skip the after-dinner sex, because Blaine is already so, so fucked.