When Kurt gathers up the fortitude to stop by Blaine’s dorm three weeks later, he has every intention of making Blaine finally see reason.

Of course, that’s until he hears the unmistakable cacophony of sex leaking out of the room.

“You like that fucking cock destroying your pathetic little ass, huh?”

“Yes, yes, please, more, Blaine, please!”

God, had Kurt really sounded that desperate? He sincerely hopes not.

Kurt really has no right to be angry. They never were a “thing”. There was no indication that they ever had been. Regardless, Kurt retreats from the vicinity, seething.

It appears as if every time Kurt musters the courage to once again try and visit Blaine, he is never alone. And from the sound of it, he is definitely never clothed. On one occasion, there had been the definitive hum of three different voices going at it, as opposed to the usual two.

There’s been more than one instance where Kurt has considered fucking someone else to get all of the pent-up aggression out of his system. He’s entertained the notion of giving some poor, unsuspecting virgin boy the night of his life, and then promptly tossing him out on his ass with no further association. Just to let someone else know how it feels.

But Kurt knows he’d never be able to go through with that. He would never truly want anyone to have to experience how shitty he feels. Yet, He hasn’t fully thrown in the towel on the general “fuck buddy” idea.

That is how he ends up undergoing a vague sense of déjà vu, as he is pressed up against the exact wall where he first overheard Blaine’s shenanigans a couple months ago.

However, this time, he has a rock solid body pinned against him. A body that is currently devouring his neck and clutching at his ass. God, why hadn’t he permitted himself this distraction weeks ago? This feels amazing.

Kurt’s neck is turned up as far as he can make it, serving up the entirety of his neck for this stunningly gorgeous blonde boy (Luke? Landon? Shit, Kurt doesn’t remember or particularly care) whom Kurt had enticed in the library not twenty minutes before now.

It’s astounding what a little “innocent” pen fellatio can do.

Kurt can feel the other boy—Lance! That was it!—getting hard against his thigh. Kurt is wondering if this could even get any better…

And then it does.

Kurt’s eyes drift open slightly, and over Lance’s shoulder he has a perfect view of one Blaine Anderson, his latest prey in tow, standing stone still, glowering at Kurt and his partner’s activities.

Kurt lets his eyes fall shut again, forcing out an exaggerated moan, and burying his hand in Lance’s hair as the boy continues to assault his neck.

This was exactly what Kurt wanted. He knew this was Blaine’s spot. He knew he’d be coming.

Now he’s got to make Blaine hurt. Make Blaine hurt like he’d hurt Kurt.

“Christ, Lance, you’re so good. So good.” Kurt croons. Lance groans into his neck in response, redoubling his efforts.

Kurt opens his eyes once more to gaze at Blaine, who hasn’t budged from his previous position, but the boy who had accompanied him here was nowhere to be seen. He assumes Blaine sent him away. Kurt’s insides surge with triumph; that means he got to Blaine.

Kurt locks Blaine’s eyes with his own, and begins rolling his hips obscenely into the boy pressed into him. The burning tension is tangible between the two sets of eyes. Kurt wants him to see. He wants Blaine to see him getting so much pleasure from a boy that isn’t him.

Because Kurt doesn’t need him. He never really did. Not for one second.

Blaine is the first to speak.

“I see the slut finally scraped up some ass.”

Lance jumps, throwing himself off of Kurt from the startling interruption.

Kurt simply snorts.

“That’s actually laughable coming from you, Anderson.”

Blaine smiles dangerously at Kurt. His eyes shift to Lance, who is eyeing the scene skeptically. “Having a blast with my sloppy seconds, Gallagher?”

“Fuck off, Anderslut.” Lance bites back.

Blaine slaps a hand to his heart, face contorting into feigned offense. “Ouch, that really cuts to the core, Short Stop.” Kurt sees Lance go beet red at the moniker. Figures, Blaine had already fucked him.

Blaine looks positively smug. “Wanna know why I call him Short Stop, Hummel?”

“I said fuck off Anderson!” Lance cries out desperately.

“I swear to god, it lasted about a minute, Hummel. And then he exploded like a party popper.” Lance buries his face into his hands. “Wouldn’t even let me finish off in his ass. Fucking disappointing.”

Lance snatches up his bag from off the floor. As he storms off, he spits out, “I fucking hate you, Anderson.”

“Bye, Short Stop!” Blaine bellows cheerily.

Kurt stares at Blaine, disbelieving.

“You are such a dick!”

Blaine smirks. “Can’t stop thinking about my dick, can you? It’s been known to leave lasting impressions.”

Kurt snubs off the comment. “Where did your hourly fuck go?” he sneers.

“Rescheduled. I didn’t want him to have to witness me effectively taking out the trash.”

Kurt glares at him. “It is none of your business who I do or don’t fuck, Blaine.”

Blaine’s expression goes saccharine, “But Kurt, I was just looking out for you! I’d hate to know you were about to experience the worst fuck of your life. I mean, I know anyone else would pale in comparison to me, but…”

Kurt snaps. “Will you just stop?”

“Stop what?” Blaine inquires innocently.

“Stop brushing your shoulders off like you don’t give a shit!”

Blaine’s face goes serious. “Kurt, I’m going to share with you some very insightful information, ok?” Kurt continues to stare fixedly. “If I’m acting like I don’t give a shit…it’s because I don’t give a shit!” He speaks the last bit as if it’s the greatest revelation ever shared with the world. And Kurt wants nothing more than to punch him in the face.

Blaine is finally starting to let his anger slip. “I know it’s difficult for you to comprehend in that pea-sized brain of yours, which is clearly forced to condense due to your giant ass ego, but fact is the world doesn’t revolve around Kurt Hummel! You need to accept the fact that I don’t care about you the way you care about me!”

“You’re a fucking liar!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Both Blaine and Kurt whip their heads around to see Mrs. Stockton, one of the history teachers, making her way down the hall. “Cool it, both of you!”

Kurt folds his arms tightly, staring at the floor.

“Ma’am, we were just—” Blaine attempts.

“I don’t want to hear it! In fact, I don’t want another peep out of you two. Let’s go.”

The boys toss one more quick glare at each other before following the teacher back down the hall.

After classes are over, the two find themselves seated at opposite ends of the detention room, decidedly not speaking or even looking at one another.

When the detention monitor excuses himself to use the restroom (advising strictly against any “funny business”), Kurt finally pipes up.

“You could at least say you’re sorry.” He mutters.

Blaine turns to him. “Sorry for what?”

“For making me believe I was special; for fucking me and then hanging me out to dry.” Kurt says bitterly.

“Oh, please, I did not ‘hang you out to dry’! Get over yourself, Hummel.”

“Well then what would you call it, Blaine?”

“I call it getting the record straight and not entertaining your delusional expectations.”

“They’re not as delusional as you’re making them out to be, and you know it. They’re not, otherwise you wouldn’t have thrown a hissy fit at the first sight of me with another guy.”

Blaine’s expression visibly drops, but just barely. Kurt continues.

“You’ve been actively avoiding me. You’ve been trying to distract yourself with more fucks than you can physically handle. You’re trying to forget me, Blaine.” Kurt sees Blaine’s face fall a little more. “So just tell me one thing. Why are you so scared to be with me?”

Kurt swears he senses a tremor run through Blaine’s body. Kurt has finally broken inside this beautiful, pain in the ass boy.

Blaine takes a breath, and there’s no mistaking the glisten of tears in his eyes.

Shakily, Blaine replies, “Because, Kurt, I can’t—”

Footsteps trek their way back into the room, and Blaine falls instantly silent, his walls shooting back up immediately.

Kurt huffs and goes boneless in his seat.

So close.

Kurt catches Blaine’s wrist as he tries to get out of the room once their detention was up.

“Let go, Hummel.” He jerks his wrist, trying to get free, but to no avail.

Kurt begins dragging the boy behind him, and eventually Blaine quits resisting. They end up in Blaine’s room.

“Finish what you were going to say before, Blaine.” All anger and resentment is absent in his voice. Kurt honestly just wants to understand. He wants to solve all of this, come to some sort of conclusion.

“Please forget it, Kurt.” Blaine looks like a kicked puppy, sitting cross-legged on his bed and rubbing at his arm uncomfortably.

“That won’t fix anything. And we need fixing, you can’t deny that.”

Blaine doesn’t.

Kurt approaches the bed, and kneels on the ground, propping his head up on his arms to look at the boy in front of him.

“Don’t look at me like that, oh my god.” Blaine whimpers.

Kurt smiles. “Is it working?”

Blaine lets out a “harrumph”, avoiding Kurt’s eyes.

“Please, Blaine?”

“God, you know I can’t resist you when you beg.” Blaine moans. Kurt giggles in response.

Blaine sighs. “I just…Kurt, I don’t know how…Shit, can’t we just fuck instead of talking? That sounds so much more appealing right now.” He whines.

“No.” Kurt answers firmly. “Keep talking, Big Shot.” Blaine breathes out a laugh at the name.

Blaine takes a deep breath, and starts talking.

“Really, Kurt, you already know why I act the way I do.”

Kurt wrinkles his forehead in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You hit it right on the nose that night.” Kurt is silent, waiting for him to continue. He does.

“You said I was scared of commitment.”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “Blaine, I was just trying to throw shit at you, I didn’t—”

“No, Kurt, you were right. I’m scared. I’m fucking terrified.” Blaine stares at his hands, wringing in his lap.

Kurt gives a simple prompting. “Why?”

Kurt can see the internal struggle passing across Blaine’s face. It’s as if he’s fighting with himself. With his thoughts. Kurt wants to wrap him up in his arms and hold him. Tell him everything is going to be fine. But he doesn’t. He stays put, and lets Blaine go at his own pace.

“I…Kurt, I have somewhat of a…bad track record with boyfriends.” After that, Blaine falls silent.

“…Explain? Please?” Kurt is trying his hardest not to nag. But, honestly, Blaine can’t dangle that in front of him and then not elaborate. He’s already gone this far, he can go a bit further. “Blaine, you can trust me. I swear.”

Blaine still doesn’t speak.

Kurt makes a fist, and sticks up his pinky finger. “Pinky promise?”

Blaine laughs quietly, smiling fondly at the boy in front of him. Shaking his head, he wraps his pinky around Kurt’s. “Okay. Pinky promise.” Blaine mocks goodheartedly. Kurt beams.

“Kurt…” Blaine begins again, his face going forlorn once more. “You have to understand, most of this I’ve never told anybody before.”

“I pinky swore, Blaine. I’m not going to tell anyone. You can trust me, I told you. I promise.” Kurt insisted, pouring every ounce of sincerity he possessed into the end of his statement. He only hopes Blaine will recognize it.

He does.

“Alright, here goes. My first boyfriend I had when I was barely fourteen. I wasn’t at Dalton yet. My freshman year I went to a public school. You can only imagine the kind of environment that was for an openly gay kid.” Kurt nodded, knowing all too well what it’s like.

“Well, Trevor, my boyfriend, wasn’t out yet. He was three years older than me. But, since I was the only gay kid, he sought me out. And we started going out. In secret, obviously. He convinced me to…to ‘cover the bases’ with him, as he put it. I mean, he’d fucked a couple girls before. Trying to prove himself straight. But he wanted experience with a guy before he graduated, since he knew he’d stop lying to himself once he was out of this shithole state.”

“So, he forced you out of your virginity?” Kurt asked.

Blaine winces. “No, not really. He was persuasive, but there wasn’t much to convince, I guess. Honestly, I was just honored that a senior would even want to fuck a freshman, you know? Living in Ohio, I thought I’d never meet another gay guy. I figured, why not?”

Kurt nodded. “So, what happened?”

Blaine braces himself once more. “I made the mistake of asking him to his senior prom, just a little too close to his friends—”

“Hold on, you asked him to his own senior prom?” Kurt chuckles out.

Blaine smiles, in spite of himself. “I was a daringly enthusiastic freshman, Kurt.”

“As I was saying, when I asked Trevor, his friends overheard. And his friends were not nice guys. They started giving Trevor shit for it, even though he tried to pass the whole thing off as a joke. Trevor wasn’t happy with me.”

Blaine began shaking subtly. Kurt reached out and grabbed one of his hands, holding it and squeezing it comfortingly in his grip. Blaine glanced up, giving Kurt a pained, but grateful smile. His eyes were wet. When he spoke again, his voice was thick.

“Needless to say, we didn’t go to the dance together. But I was stupid. I knew I couldn’t get in, so I waited outside for him, out by his car.” A tear breaks free and runs down Blaine’s cheek. He keeps talking. “Trevor ended up coming out with his friends, to the parking lot. And it was clear that someone had spiked the punch or they slipped in alcohol or something, because they were piss drunk. They saw me leaning up against Trev’s car, and…”

A sob rips its way from Blaine’s throat, but he still continues. “They started calling me names. Shoving me around. Trevor ended up joining in. It quickly escalated…” Blaine is quiet for a moment, collecting himself. Kurt is able to deduce what happened next.

“They left me in a dumpster. Ended up passing out from pain overload. Lucky for me, someone on the cleaning crew found me in time. Called an ambulance. Once I was out of the hospital, I transferred to Dalton. I never saw Trevor again.”

Blaine’s sniffles are the only thing audible in the room after he finishes. After a couple minutes, Kurt responds.

“Blaine, I am so sorry. I didn’t—”

“Don’t say ‘you didn’t know’, Kurt, I know you didn’t fucking know. It’s not your fault, so don’t act like it is.” Kurt is slightly taken aback, but he nods. “This is why I don’t tell people. They smother me with pity. I get enough of that shit by choosing to be a whore.”

For some reason, hearing Blaine actually call himself a whore hurts Kurt more than anything else. It doesn’t feel right.

By this time, Blaine has gathered himself once more.

“Wanna hear about my other boyfriend? The secrecy of my tortured past is pretty much shot to hell now anyway.” Blaine offers with a half-smile.

Kurt smiles encouragingly. “Only if you want.”

Blaine nods. “My sophomore year at Dalton. His name was Enzio.” The name rolls off his tongue exaggeratedly. “He was Italian. Spoke it fluently, too.” Blaine grins to himself. “Christ, he used to whisper the filthiest things in my ear when we fucked. He’d weave in and out of Italian and English…fuck. He was a sex god.”

“Sounds like a catch. How the hell did you land him?” Kurt teased.

“Oh please, Kurt, you of all people know how persuasive I can be.” Kurt gives that to him without further heckling.

Blaine’s face turns slightly mocking. “It turns out his dirty talk wasn’t exclusive to the bedroom. And, you know, the more someone calls you ‘slut, whore, worthless cockwarmer’ when you don’t ask for it, the more you start to believe it. He started getting insatiable. Getting rougher. More possessive. Telling me I wasn’t worth shit, that I couldn’t even provide a good fuck anymore, which had been the only thing I was good for before.

“But I was terrified of losing him, so I started breaking my back to please him. Researching everything I could think of, new tips and tricks, to keep him satisfied. As you can attest, I got pretty fucking skilled.”

Kurt forces out a weak smile.

“Anyway, one day I walked in on him fucking someone else.” Blaine lets out a dark laugh. “Bless his heart, when I caught him, he held his dick still just long enough to tell me he was through with me before starting to pound into his little fucktoy again like I wasn’t even there. What a sweetheart, right?

“After that, I swore off relationships. At least in high school. Though there was no way in hell that I was giving up on sex. So I started fucking guys for fun. Then one guy told me I was so good, he would have paid for a fuck like that. So I figured what the hell? And here I am. So, there’s your story, Kurt. I hope it lived up to your expectations.”

With all of this new information, everything easily slides into place. Now, Kurt feels like complete shit for trying to push Blaine. But he was right, there was no way Kurt could have known. Now, the only thing Kurt wants to do is prove him wrong about boyfriends. He wants to treat him better than anybody in his life probably ever has. He wants to fix Blaine’s heart.

Kurt crawls onto the bed, and they continue talking, but on more lighthearted topics. Well, lighthearted for Blaine. They discuss his absolute worst fucks (“Seriously Kurt, Lance was in the top five. I had to save you the humiliation.”). Kurt talks about his passion for singing (“I’d believe it, you’ve got the pipes for it, Screamer.”). He goes on to tell the embarrassing journey of him falling in love with his painfully straight future stepbrother.

They just talk. Something they really hadn’t done much of in a non-sexual or non-hostile manner before now.

Blaine ends up rather bashfully admitting his less than platonic feelings for Kurt, much to the other boy’s elation. Regardless, Blaine makes it apparent to Kurt that he doesn’t have much desire to quit his “business” altogether. At least, not all at once.

Eventually, Kurt gathers the courage to acknowledge their future.

“What if I gave you a proposition, Anderson?” Kurt asks

Blaine quirks an eyebrow. “What kind of proposition?”

“What if I told you we could be together, but I allowed you to continue your illicit activities?”

Blaine looks as if he just won the lottery, lunging at Kurt, and tackling him back onto the bed. “Kurt, you would do that? Oh my god, Kurt, I don’t know how—”

“Slow your roll there, buddy,” Kurt stops the other boy, shoving him off.

Blaine pouts, unamused. “Knew it was too good to be true…”

“Hey, I said it was a proposition, Blaine. I would allow you to continue, but with some stipulations.”

Blaine’s face relaxes tentatively. “Name your price, Hummel.”

Kurt adjusts his position, sitting up to kneel on the bed in front of Blaine, taking his hands in his own.

“First, no penetrative sex.” Kurt can tell Blaine is outraged by this, opening his mouth to protest, but Kurt holds him off. “Also, there will be no ingesting of come by you. None. I want you tested again, and I expect you to remain clean for me.”

“Ok, Kurt. A: I am always safe. Always. And B: Shit, what can I do, then?” Blaine complains.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Handjobs. Protected blowjobs. Frotting. Fingering. Whatever the hell else you can think of that doesn’t involve penises in assholes or consuming another guy’s come.”

Blaine thinks over this for a minute. “What about vibrators and dildos?”

Kurt sighs disapprovingly.

“Come on, Kurt, I make bank on toy usage!”

Kurt rolls his eyes once more, and gives in, but insisting he protect them as well and sanitize them after each use. Blaine lets out a small cry of success.

“Ok, next condition. No kissing on the mouth. I want that to be solely my territory.” Blaine stares for a moment, then nods in agreement.

“I understand that. Done. Anything else?”

Kurt braces himself for this next one. “Yes. As your boyfriend, I reserve the right to cancel any previous engagement you have scheduled, if I have a valid reason…even if that reason is that I’m incredibly horny and I need you to take care of me.”

Blaine huffs. “Kurt, I dunno. That seems a bit…unpredictable.”

“I swear I will not make ridiculous demands simply to keep you from being with clients out of jealousy. I just want it to be clear that I come first, Blaine. That I’m more important to you than them. That’s the only reason I ask.”

Mulling over the words, Blaine confirms. “Deal.”

Kurt smiles. “Okay.”

Scooting forward, Blaine cups Kurt’s face in his hands. Smiling, Blaine brings Kurt’s lips to his, but Kurt stops right before they’re sealed.

“Can I make one more request?” Kurt whispers hotly into Blaine’s mouth, peeking up through his eyelashes to catch a glimpse of Blaine’s eyes.

“Go for it.” Blaine answers.

Kurt lets his tongue slide over Blaine’s lips. “Fuck me into your mattress?”

Blaine’s eyes darken and his mouth quirks up into a devious smirk.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Ever so slowly, Blaine pushes at Kurt’s shoulders to lay him on the bed, lining his body up with the one below him. Electrified energy races between them, only intensifying when Blaine crashes his lips onto Kurt’s, devouring his taste.

Blaine’s hand lands on Kurt’s calf, sliding it up until he meets the hinge of his knee. Gripping the limb, he hitches it around his hip, and rocks his crotch down into Kurt’s, achingly slow.

Kurt moans into the other boy’s feverish mouth, bucking up to meet his thrusts.

As Blaine begins working on the buttons on Kurt’s shirt, Kurt pulls himself back momentarily.

“Blaine?”

“Hmm?” he says, mouthing at Kurt’s newly exposed collarbone.

“Can we…no name-calling tonight, please. I just wanna be…us. Not some kinky fantasy. Okay?”

Blaine releases Kurt’s skin with a sucking kiss, and meets Kurt’s eyes.

“Of course, Kurt.” Blaine captures him in a sensuous kiss. “Of course.” He repeats.

With that, Kurt allows himself to sink entirely into the kiss, melding his mouth with Blaine’s, and enjoying the slow, passionate sort of dance that their lips have yet to perform with each other until now. Before this, everything had always been heated, desperate, a means to an end. But this. This was trust; it was savoring; it was sharing.

It’s what Kurt loves most of anything they’ve done together.

Leisurely, they remove each other’s clothing, pausing every few moments as they both fall into each other again, nearly perfectly coordinated. Like magnets. When they cling together, it’s harder to pull them apart. Each shared kiss is longer than the last.

They do nothing to rush it, nothing to cheapen the thrill. Just permitting themselves the kind of thorough, slow, loving intimacy that they both so deeply crave. The feeling of being cherished.

Once they’re both naked, Blaine takes a moment, brushing his nose against Kurt’s from above, and just looking at him.

When Blaine speaks, it’s in a whisper. Like it’s sacred. Like Kurt is sacred. “You really are fucking beautiful, you know.”

Kurt blushes beneath him. “You are, though, Kurt. You’re stunning.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Why, thank you.” Blaine says with a grin.

They remain in that position for a while, soaking in each other’s presence. Blaine presses another kiss to Kurt’s lips, and then reaches into his drawer to fish out the lube and a condom.

Kurt lets his legs fall open and his eyes fall shut, so willing to give this boy everything he has. True, the boy already has his virginity. But Kurt feels like he could give him so much more. And he wants to, more than anything.

He gasps as a cold, slick finger slides into him, all the way in. Then, all the way out, and then harder, faster, back inside. Kurt revels in the feeling of having this boy inside him, however miniscule the amount, moaning with the sensation.

As Blaine presses in two, then three fingers, Kurt’s tongue begins to run away from him.

“Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, god, Blaine you’re perfect, so perfect.” And as much as Kurt loves the painfully pleasurable glacial pace they’ve been so steady with, his patience is beginning to wear thin. He fucks himself faster on Blaine’s fingers, begging for him to just hurry.

“Please, Blaine, baby, I’m ready, I’m so ready, please.” Blaine lets out a broken moan at the whimpering boy under him.

“Yeah, ok.” Removing his fingers from Kurt, he rolls on the condom and coats his cock with lube.

Blaine guides his cock to Kurt’s entrance, but doesn’t push inside yet. Kurt groans, attempting to thrust himself down onto Blaine. He is held still, and Blaine ducks his head to Kurt’s ear.

Blaine’s voice lilts with humor. “Fasten your seatbelt, Hummel.”

Kurt snorts out a laugh. “Just put your dick in me, Anderson.”

And he does. Blaine presses into him slowly, feeling his ass open up for Blaine’s cock inch by inch. He stops only when he is fully sheathed inside of Kurt. Fuck, Blaine never gets tired of this.

Neither does Kurt, to be truthful, even with less experience. He’s still pretty sure he would be content having sex with this boy for the rest of his life.

Kurt’s stomach suddenly clenches. Did he just imagine the rest of his life with this boy?

Blaine, noticing Kurt’s sudden tension, halts his movement inside of Kurt. “Kurt? Baby, you alright?”

Kurt takes a deep breath, and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I just freaked myself out a bit. I’m fine.”

“Freaking out about…us? This?” Blaine begins to pull out of Kurt, concern wrinkling his features.

“No, Blaine, stop!” Kurt grips Blaine’s arm, clenching around Blaine’s cock to keep it inside of him. Blaine obliges, but still doesn’t start to move again. “It’s not this, I promise. My brain just got ahead of itself.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Kurt’s face is pleading. “No, Blaine, I’d really like for you to keep fucking me. Please. It’s not important, I swear.”

Ok, maybe it was important. It was big, this thought he just had. But it wasn’t important now. And it definitely was not important enough to discuss while Blaine’s dick is buried in his ass. Maybe some other time, Kurt will mention it. But that time is not now.

Blaine breathes in through his nose, slowly letting it out. “Sure?”

“God damn it, Blaine, yes! Just fuck me!”

Blaine relents, pressing his hips once more all the way into Kurt. Kurt’s head drops back into the pillows, rolling his hips down onto the cock pounding inside him. He wraps his legs tightly around Blaine’s waist, getting as much leverage as he can to force Blaine deeper.

Blaine slides his hands up Kurt’s chest, momentarily toying with Kurt nipples, eliciting a gasp from the boy. He slides his hands back down, and grips Kurt’s hips, increasing his pace, much to the delight of a very vocal Kurt.

Blaine swoops down, sucking a kiss from Kurt’s lips. He doesn’t linger though, making his way across his jaw and down his neck, and further still. He teases the skin just enough that it won’t leave behind evidence tomorrow. Then again, what harm could a few more lasting marks do if they were below the collar? So, Blaine allows himself to make one real mark on his collarbone, just for him. Just for them.

As Blaine fucks into him, he begs a question. “Whose are you, Kurt?”

Kurt chokes out a whimper at a particularly well-placed thrust. “Yours, Blaine. I’m yours.”

Blaine begins to slow down as he asks another. “And who can I say I belong to, baby?”

Kurt stares up into Blaine’s eyes. He threads his fingers into his hair and pulls him down low.

“You say you belong to me. And no one else.”

Blaine presses a searing kiss to Kurt’s mouth. “That’s right.” He mutters, picking up his thrusts once more.

After that, they really find their rhythm. Blaine has one arm hooked around Kurt’s shoulder, the other wrapped around his waist, heaving himself again and again into the boy who owns him. Totally owns him, heart and soul.

Kurt’s heels are digging into his ass, urging him faster and faster yet; his hands clenching under his knees, spreading himself as wide as he can for Blaine. They own each other, they want to give each other everything they are able.

Kurt might not know it, but Blaine would have been willing to give up everything for him. Anything that Kurt asked, he would hand over on a tastefully presented silver platter. But Kurt would be too selfless to ask that of Blaine. Kurt wants Blaine to be happy, above all else.

One day, Blaine will only be with Kurt, emotionally as well as sexually. That will take time. It will take change.

But if Kurt had asked, he wouldn’t have hesitated a second.

Kurt starts coming unhinged with his impending release, hungrily fucking down onto Blaine’s cock, and working rapidly at his own.

“Fuck Blaine, come on, come on.” He growls out.

Blaine is panting with his efforts, feeling his own orgasm twisting about as well. He’s fucking as hard as he is physically able, but losing finesse with each thrust.

“Fuck, KurtKurtKurt!” Blaine chants his name as he is hit with that familiar wave of pleasure—only this time, it’s more. God, it’s so much more. This burning heat that courses through him, on the edge it is an experience he’s grown so accustomed to, but underneath it’s almost unrecognizable with its intensity. He has never had an orgasm as powerful as this one.

As Kurt senses Blaine’s cock pulsing in his ass, pumping the condom full of his come, his voice breaks in a moan of Blaine’s name. He comes over his fist, squeezing around the boy inside of him as he rides out his release.

Blaine collapses onto Kurt, his dick going soft in his ass. Kurt groans at the added weight, feebly attempting to shove off the lethargic body. Blaine simply groans in response, burying his face in Kurt’s neck. Kurt chuckles at this beautiful, heavy boy on top of him.

Blaine soon musters the strength to pull out, tying off the condom and chucking it into the trash next to his bed. He rolls off of Kurt and onto his back, making sure to keep an arm wrapped around his waist.

“You’re cute.” Kurt mutters with a tired smile.

“And you’re eloquent.” Blaine counters, earning a smack on his arm. “And sexy,” Blaine tacks on, kissing him briefly.

Kurt sighs heavily. “I’m really, really happy right now.”

Blaine chuckles. “Yeah, you just had sex, I should hope you’re happy. Otherwise I’m not doing my job.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow threateningly. “Oh, so now I’m part of your job again?”

Blaine’s eyes go wide as he stumbles over words. “I—Kurt, no I didn’t mean—That’s not what—!”

Kurt clutches his stomach in laughter. “I was just joking, silly!” Blaine scowls, and Kurt continues to cackle. “Oh my god, you should have seen your face, Blaine!”

Blaine folds his arms and pouts angrily. “I changed my mind I don’t like you at all.”

Kurt’s laughter dies down as he rolls over to hover over Blaine. “Yeah right, you love me.”

There’s a beat of silence and Kurt snaps his mouth shut. Shit, Kurt actually said that. Shit shit shit.

Despite Kurt’s reaction, Blaine smiles. “You’re going into panic mode, aren’t you?”

Kurt frantically responds. “I’m sorry, Blaine, it slipped out. I didn’t mean to imply anything, I swear.”

Blaine hushes him, kissing him once more. “I know what you meant, baby.” Kurt deflates in gratitude.

They lay in companionable silence for a long while, surrounded by the smell of sex and sweat and the feel of drying come between them. Yet, in spite of all of that, they could not be happier.

Reluctantly, Kurt breaks the silence. “Hey, Blaine?”

Blaine hums in reply.

“Can I stay? Tonight?” Kurt requests, tentatively.

Exhaling slowly, Blaine stares deeply into Kurt’s eyes. “Kurt Hummel, you can stay any goddamn night you wish to from now on.”

Kurt lets out a breath of sheer joy, smashing his lips into Blaine’s again.

Laughing, Blaine speaks. “God, this day has just been a fucking roller coaster, hasn’t it?”

“Mmm.” Kurt agrees, kissing Blaine’s chest lightly. “But we made it through alright, didn’t we?”

Blaine smiles, sliding his hands into Kurt’s hair and guiding his lips up to his own.

“Yeah, we made it through alright.”