"We really should get cleaned up." Kurt points out, but he only betrays his current mindset by snuggling closer into Blaine, his arms like tendrils around his waist. They've been laying here for an hour, both of them possessing very little desire to move. Blaine thinks there's a mutual understanding that if they do move, alter their positions, the dream might dissipate and they'll discover that they are still fighting, still not talking, still unaware of each other's feelings.

Blaine exhales into Kurt's hair, rubbing a hand up and down Kurt's smooth arm. Kurt is so solid in this moment. He's tangible and real and they just had sex for the very first time, and when Blaine can feel Kurt in his arms like this he knows that he's not dreaming.

Though the stillness must be shattered eventually and the inevitable must come to light.

"Can we talk first?" Blaine says, the anxiety seeping into his voice in a way he's sure doesn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah. Let's talk." Kurt agrees, kissing Blaine's collarbone with fleeting lips.

Blaine figures the best way to go about this is head-on, since they've proven that they are excellent at distracting each other. He prepares himself for the emotional rollercoaster they're about to embark on together, knowing that really, things can only get better from here.

"Why did you sleep with Adam?"

Kurt shifts in his arms to prop himself up on his elbow, raising the other hand to pet through Blaine's curls affectionately before he answers. The action soothes Blaine, a soft smile breaching his face as Kurt smiles back. "Truthfully? Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. I needed to forget for a while."

"So you chose to sleep with your ex?"

"He was there. He was familiar. And he wanted to." Kurt explains, removing his hand from Blaine's hair, and Blaine instantly misses the sedating motion. "Not much else was required at that moment, really."

"He was there? I thought you hadn't spoken in forever?" Blaine is trying as hard as possible not to be accusatory, he really just wants to understand. But he can't deny the hurt that still bubbles inside of him.

"We ran into each other at a bar. We had a few drinks and flirted then...presto." Kurt says with a banality that makes Blaine equal parts uneasy and relieved. Uneasy because the casualness in which Kurt dismisses it makes him feel like maybe Kurt feels like it was no big deal. Relieved because maybe that means that it really meant nothing at all to him and he's not hung up over any of it.

"Can I ask you something?" Blaine says quietly not quite wanting to meet Kurt's eyes.

"Of course."

The question has been a source of discomfort for Blaine for a while now, mainly because he's terrified of the answer. "If I hadn't walked in that night, would you have told me later what you did?"

Kurt sighs nuzzling into Blaine's neck. "Probably not, to be honest. I wouldn't see the point." Kurt's fingers trace over Blaine's chest in aimless patterns, but it does nothing to assuage the swirling in Blaine's gut. "And I guess I can ask you the same question. Would you have told me that you were fucking Sebastian for free?"

Blaine inhales slowly, filling his lungs, and letting it out gradually as he considers the question. "Touché."

Kurt looks up at Blaine, his hand stilling. "It's not like we had an obligation to, Blaine. It would be more a courtesy than anything."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that. We weren't together. Weren't even talking, really." Blaine adds in, tilting his head to the side with a shrug. "I just would like to think that we were close enough that we would tell each other everything."

"Blaine, you're still my best friend. You're still the person I want to talk to about whatever stupid shit I do. But the fact is some things would cause more trouble than good if we were to have brought them up to each other at the wrong time." Blaine sighs gently, stroking a hand softly down Kurt's back, nodding briefly in response. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" Kurt asks, and Blaine can tell that Kurt is jumping through hoops to make his words come across as he intends them to.

Blaine tries to lose himself in Kurt's hands as they roam idly over his body, caressingly in a subconscious manner that makes happiness boil in Blaine's chest regardless of the instability of their conversation. Kurt is being so thoughtful, so honest with him. Blaine knows that he is making the right choice in choosing Kurt simply by the way Kurt can make him feel at a time like this where they're laying themselves on the line. "No, you're right. You really are right."

"It's not that I thought that not telling you was a good way to evade how I felt about you. I wouldn't have told you because I knew it would make you unnecessarily upset. Which it did anyway, so I guess I was proven right. It's not that I wouldn't want to have told you, Blaine."

Blaine nods his head emphatically. "No, I get it, Kurt. You don't need to explain anymore."

Kurt sighs into Blaine's neck, gripping his bare bicep as some sort of anchor, Blaine guesses. "I'm sorry, I'm over dramatizing all of this. I always do. I just don't want—"

Blaine interrupts him promptly, cupping a hand onto Kurt's jaw and tilting his head up to lock eyes with him in order to get the words across resoundingly. "Kurt. I love you. It's ok and you don't have to apologize."

A wilted smile befalls Kurt's lips at the reassurance, and Blaine can tell it's Kurt trying to convince himself to believe all of this, rather than Blaine.

Blaine lets the gravity settle between them, lets the dust particles in the air float to the ground before they ruck up some more. Kurt's breathing is soothing to him in the silence of the apartment, his ears having trained out the cacophony of the surrounding establishments and the busy streets below long ago after learning that the noise never fully stops. Now, to him, it's just Kurt's soft sighs and his warm breath making goosebumps on his skin and fire in his heart.

To his surprise, Kurt breaks the renewed silence first. "So what are we, exactly?"

Blaine hums lengthily before responding a bit cheekily. "Very horny young men?"

Kurt slaps the back of his hand lightly onto Blaine's chest with a smile as Blaine chuckles airily. "I'm serious! This is all complicated as shit and I want to know where we stand. What we're going to do. If we're even going to be an actual couple or just fuck buddies or..."

"No way in hell we're fuck buddies, Kurt, come on," Blaine snorts, "We're in love with each other, right? We have to be something. This isn't a casual thing, this is the real deal here."

"Of course it is," Kurt whines just a little, as if he's trying to further prove his devotion to Blaine in desperation. "You are absolutely the real thing for me, Blaine."

"And you are for me. But the fact is," Blaine sighs, suddenly fatigued by just the prospect of trying to figure out what in the hell they are and what their future holds. "The fact is, Kurt, that I'm leaving this in your hands." Kurt makes a noise to protest, but Blaine silences him quickly, "And I know that's a lot on your shoulders, but honestly, it really is your call. I will do whatever you want me to do. I'll quit the sex work, I'll quit doing whatever you want me to quit doing. You're the one who's been patient with me, so now I'm leaving it up to you. Because I love and trust you and I want you to be happy."

"But this isn't just about me, Blaine!" Kurt resists, sitting up in the bed to look at him properly. "This is a relationship, with two people, and both our opinions matter. I know we'll have to compromise things, but I want you to be happy too. I can't just tell you to change your whole life for my benefit; that's not fair and it would not make me happy."

Blaine pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "I understand that, Kurt. But I want you to tell me what you want." Blaine flutters open his eyes to take in Kurt, so gorgeous in his concern. "More than anything, I want to know that you will be okay with how we move forward. You're the one who would have to deal with me sleeping with other men. I want you to be comfortable with me. Always."

"I am comfortable with you," Kurt assures, tucking himself into Blaine's arms once again to enforce his point. "Just like this."

"But will you be when it's three a.m. and I'm still not home?" Blaine poses, his chin resting on top of Kurt's head.

"If you call or text me and tell me that, yes," Kurt supplies. "That will be my requirement. Just tell me when you have a client, what he paid for, and how long you expect it to be. That's all I need to know."

"You're gonna get jealous."

"And I'll fuck that out of my system when you come home."

"What if I'm too tired?"

"Then I'll fuck you while you sleep."

"Kinky."

"You'd know best, wouldn't you?"

Blaine's smile is broad when Kurt cranes his head upwards, stealing an upside-down kiss from Blaine's lips in what is possibly the most uncomfortable and awkward position Blaine has ever experienced; and yet, it's absolutely perfect. Blaine feels like such a doe-eyed, love-smitten idiot for even thinking this, thinking that uncomfortable could be perfect, but it only further proves how far gone he is with Kurt.

"This will only go on for a little while longer, I promise. I've been thinking for a while that it's time I hang up the corsets and find a steadier job." Blaine admits to Kurt, whose face scrunches in intrigue. "I mean, sex work is all well and good when you're new to the city and you need to make ends meet. But I have money now, I have savings—a very good amount too—and it just think it's about time."

"How long is a little while?" Kurt asks quietly.

Blaine shrugs softly, running his fingers through Kurt's hair. "When it feels like it's time. And I'm able to find a job. Maybe three months. Six. But I promise, within a year's time, it'll be done with whether I have a job or not and we can tap into my savings."

"You don't need to do that, I can afford to maintain us for a little while. We can stow the savings for when we really need it. Or you really need it." Kurt alters, looking unsure.

Blaine smiles down at Kurt and says unquestionably, "When we really need it."

"Was that an acceptance to my offer?" Kurt grins back up at him.

Blaine breathes out a laugh, but nods. "Yes. It was an acceptance."

"Good."

"But now I feel like I have to make this official." Blaine proclaims, and Kurt raises his eyebrows. Blaine scoots himself up to a sitting position, and guides Kurt up and into his lap, where Kurt sits happily once situated. "Kurt Hummel." Blaine begins.

"Yes?" Kurt sings, a coy smile lining his lips.

Blaine's hand comes up to drape along his cheek, under his chin, with nothing but affection and giddiness. When he asks, it's as low and as intimate as he can make it. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

Kurt tips forward almost instantly, his forehead landing against Blaine's with a blindingly beautiful grin. "Yes, Blaine. I would love that." He presses his lips chastely to Blaine's, mouths closed but hearts wide open, even as Blaine drags the point of his nose along the contours of Kurt's face and he giggles at the sensation.

"I'm so happy." Blaine breathes out, kissing Kurt's cheek briefly.

"Me too." Kurt cuddles up against him once more, placing kisses across his neck every now and then.

"Let's go shower." Blaine suggests, but his voice quickly goes mischievous when he tacks on, "And then not get clean in the shower until we get dirty again."

Kurt practically purrs in agreement at the proposition, nipping at Blaine's neck and sending sparks shooting up his spine in the most delicious way he can imagine. "Let's go."

And this time they finally do.

~*~

Sam is hesitant to go back to the apartment. He'd finished his workout half an hour ago, and worked out for a good two hours, but he wasn't quite sure what he'd open the door to find. And he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

On one hand, he could find Blaine curled up in a ball on his bed, sobbing his eyes out because things hadn't gone well.

On the other, he could be dancing around the kitchen making cookies in celebration of a new relationship.

There's an entire spectrum of outcomes that Sam could open the door to, and to be honest, he just wants to delay it for a little while. So he sits at the coffee shop around the corner from the apartment and waits. He sips is coffee and rips off bits of a bagel, eating it slowly, and tries not to be too obvious about staring at the hot barista behind the counter. "Jessica" her nametag reads. Yeah, Jessica is a nice name. One he wouldn't mind whispering into her ear while he fucked her into his mattress.

Ok, Sam hasn't gotten laid in a few weeks, so he feels like he should be granted some fantasies. He thinks about what's going on in his apartment right now, mulling over the thought that Blaine could be getting laid right now, finally uniting with his wet dream in the flesh, and Sam is sitting here tearing apart a bagel.

He finally decides that's fucked up and he has to at least try. He waits until the line dissipates before approaching the counter again, putting on the suave.

"So, Jessica, huh?"

The barista stares at him with an amused look for a moment before confirming. "Yeah, that would be my name. At least you can read."

Sam smiles and leans forward a bit, lowering his voice. "I'm actually a pretty shit reader. But I'm pretty good at other things."

Jessica raises her eyebrows. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Well, impressions, for one." Sam informs, before launching into his well-practiced Christopher Walken impression. The girl tosses her head back with an adorable laugh, her nose scrunching up with it.

"You're good!"

Sam allows himself to preen silently for a moment at the perfectly delivered impression before daring to continue. "Maybe if you give me your number I can show you what else I can do."

Jessica bites her lip for a second before letting it slide out again with a smile. "What can I get you?" she asks, unsheathing a small cardboard cup from the tower next to her and uncapping a sharpie.

Sam feels the rush of scoring a touchdown in his chest as he orders the first thing that comes to his mind, watching her smirk sexily as she marks the appropriate boxes on the cup. "And the name is Sam, by the way."

The tip of her tongue peeks out of her lips as she scribbles the name on the cup. "Well, Sam, I'll get that right out to you." She says with a quick wink.

"How much do I owe?"

Her smirk intensifies at those words, and she leans in towards him with a whisper. "A night I'll never forget." She makes a point to display her writing on the cup, where seven bold, black digits stand out against the white cardboard, before rocking away from the counter and spinning around to get started on his drink.

Sam does a mental fist pump, taking a moment to blatantly stare at her ass through her jeans before lazing his way over to the pick-up counter.

Sam takes his drink to the streets, deciding that it was time he faced up to what ended up happening between Blaine and Kurt. At least he would be able to ride his high of Jessica the Barista up to the sixth floor.

He hesitates with his hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.

It takes less than ten seconds for Sam to figure out the result.

He doesn't need extra-sensory perception to tell that the echoing moans filling the apartment are Blaine's, and they're only echoing because they're in the bathroom. In the shower, more specifically, from the sound of running water accompanying.

Sam makes a point to shut the front door very loudly, and smiles with a bit of pride when he can hear Kurt yell, "Shit!" in response.

"Glad to see you two worked things out!" Sam shouts to the bathroom in the hallway.

"Fuck off, Sam!" Blaine shouts back, muffled by the doorway and the pattering of the shower.

"No! You two come out here, I want celebratory hugs!"

"Fuck off, Sam!" He hears again, this time definitely coming from Kurt.

"No love for the wingman! You guys are assholes!"

Blaine shouts back, louder, "Sam, I swear to god, I am stuffed to the brim with cock right now, can you please give us ten minutes!"

"Or twenty!" Kurt pipes in.

"Fine! Just don't slip and injure yourself, please! I'm not calling an ambulance!"

"I am highly experienced in the art of shower sex! Just go!" Blaine barks back.

Sam makes a point of producing boisterous laughter as he slams the front door shut behind him. He slides down onto the floor against the wall next to the door, and he can still hear the faint sounds of Blaine's sex noises through the cracking drywall. Sam sips at his coffee happily, tracing over the numbers on the side with his finger.

Today had been a pretty good day for Sam Evans.