Two weeks pass quickly and Kurt’s finding it easier every single day to forget about Blaine and the way he made him moan and cry in ecstasy, the way he breathed against his lips when they kissed, they way he held him so securely as they slept that night.

Yup, he’s doing a fantastic job at forgetting all of that.

No, really, he is. The sexual tension between the two had dissipated. They’re able to sit in class together or eat lunch with their friends or have a nice night in their dorm room without wanting to jump each other’s bones. Kurt’s able to have lovely, satisfying sex with his boyfriend. He’s able to come and scream Brandon’s name with certainty.

In fact, they’re going on a double date tonight to see a movie, though they’re sure to go to a different movie theatre from the one Kurt and Brandon had been harassed.

The four boys share an enormous bucket of popcorn, sans extra butter, and the couples share a fountain drink and they all laugh in the appropriate places and the theatre is relatively empty and they’re all sitting in the back and it’s going swell.

Except that Blaine and Kurt sit next to each other with their boyfriends on either side of them.

One would think sharing an armrest wouldn’t be that much of a problem, but…it is.

Throughout the movie, their elbows do an awkward dance, attempting to figure out when one can have the armrest or when they shouldn’t. At one point, their upper arms brush against each other and holy shit, there’s this fire blazing just under their skin, soaking in through the hairs and dipping into pores. They both, simultaneously, inhale sharply.

That’s when Brandon decides to tickle his fingers along Kurt’s inner thigh.

Kurt’s half hard from the fire in his veins.

Brandon leans forward, as does Thomas. They wink at each other, as if about to execute a plan they had plotted in advance.

Both slide out of their seats onto the grimy theatre floor.

What the –

Oh fuck, Kurt nearly groans aloud when he realizes that Brandon is unzipping his pants.

A quick glance to his left reveals Thomas mimicking his actions in Blaine’s lap.

It’s the image of Blaine’s dick in the dim light that causes Kurt’s own dick to be rock hard in seconds, not Brandon licking slowly or Brandon sucking him easily. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Thomas’ lips working on Blaine’s dick.

Kurt bites his lips to muffle a moan. Brandon’s hands are massaging his thighs as he flicks his tongue over Kurt’s slit.

He doesn’t know what makes him do it, but Kurt turns his head to see Blaine looking at him. His lips are parted and dry, his eyes cloudy with arousal. Their faces are dangerously close.

Without a word, as they both slip closer to the edge of orgasm, their hands find one another atop the armrest. Fingers entwine, shaky and nervous as their boyfriend suck them expertly. The boys between their legs are oblivious to their actions, oblivious to the way they clutch at each other, oblivious to the way their gaze never breaks.

And Brandon is oblivious when Kurt screams Blaine’s name internally as he comes, straight down Brandon’s throat.

When his dick slips out of Brandon’s mouth, Kurt quickly disentangles Blaine’s fingers from his. He looks down. Brandon wipes at the corner of his mouth, a smug smile on his lips.

Kurt’s smile is forced.

He feels Blaine tense in his seat next to him. Despite Brandon being right fucking there, Kurt turns back to look at Blaine as he comes into Thomas’ mouth. His head falls back against the movie theatre seat and he looks so utterly blissed-the-fuck-out with his lips parted and the sweat forming on his hairline. Absurdly, he wonders if Blaine screamed Kurt’s name inside his head.

“Told you I could get Kurt off quicker,” he hears Brandon whisper to Thomas.

Kurt tucks himself back in his pants, as does Blaine.

“I call for a rematch,” Thomas says evenly.

Kurt and Blaine share a worried glance.

Kurt can only pray that a rematch never comes because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop Blaine’s name from spilling from his lips next time.

That night, Kurt and Blaine are lying in their respective beds. The room is dark, the kind of dark where you listen to each tiny noise, every echo, every breath in the vicinity. The silence of the dark melts into your eyes, into your ears. It tickles your toes and you want to sit still for fear of upsetting the beauty that is stillness.

But Kurt can’t sit still.

He’s hard as steel for the second time that night, only this time there’s no boyfriend to suck him off. His fingers itch to stroke himself. Arousal pulses through his limbs. His dick strains against his pajama pants.

He listens intently, gauging Blaine’s state of sleep by the sound of his breathing. But he breathes so softly that Kurt isn’t even sure he’s breathing at all.

Kurt tries to ignore his presence. He knows what happened in the movie theatre was a fluke; the entire situation was too hot for words. Come on, getting your dick sucked by your boyfriend while your best friend gets a blowjob at the same time is kind of really fucking hot and Kurt can’t stop thinking about how lust-blown Blaine’s pupils had been in the dark theatre.

Releasing a shaky breath, Kurt listens to the air around him. Blaine seems to be asleep.

Please, be asleep, Kurt thinks as he slips his hand under the blanket and into his pajama pants.

He presses down hard against his dick, thin layer of material making him squirm in impatience. But this is going to be good, so fucking good. He shoves his pajama bottoms down to mid-thigh and dips his thumb under the hem of his underwear. Stroking gently at the head of his dick, he shivers and bites back a sigh.

Kurt tugs his underwear down as well and lifts his shirt up and fuck, he’s going to come here in his bed under his sheets on his stomach with Blaine just a few feet away. His mind runs rampant with thoughts of Blaine, of his roommate spread out on his bed, sweaty and drunk and eager.

A strangled whimper almost escapes Kurt’s lips when he finally wraps his hand around his dick.

He thanks everything holy ever for allowing him his youth and the ability to come more than once in such a short span of time as he strokes himself. He works himself slowly, languorously so as not to make too much noise beneath his sheets.

In his head, Kurt hears Blaine begging to be fucked, hears Blaine asking to be fingered, feels Blaine’s tight ass around his dick.

He can’t stop himself.

With his other hand, he slips his fingers down behind his balls and begins stroking his hole, fingers moving in time with the hand on his dick.

So good, it’s so good, fuck, oh fuck.

“Fuck,” Kurt breathes, broken whine only just barely upsetting the otherwise silent room.

But he doesn’t care anymore, he just needs to come. He recalls Blaine’s eyes again, he sees them in the mirror, in their dimly lit dorm room through a drunken haze, in the theatre and shit, he’s so fucking beautiful and that’s when he realizes that he knows what Blaine looks like when he comes now and oh ugh, yes, he’s beautiful, fuck, he can’t stop thinking about him.

“Let me help you.”

Kurt’s eyes fly open. He’s so far gone, lost in lust, but he’s not blind. Blaine stands over him. Kurt didn’t even hear him get out of bed, but Blaine’s there and he’s tugging Kurt’s blanket down, tugging the sheet down.

Kurt’s breathing comes in heavy gasps as Blaine crawls over him, hips dragging across Kurt’s sensitive erection.

Blaine’s hand is there, warm and strong, covering his own.

“Fuck, please,” Kurt cries, tucking himself against Blaine’s body and releasing his hold on his own dick.

As Blaine’s fist replaces his, Kurt ceases stroking his entrance but he has a fierce grip on Blaine’s forearm.

“Does it feel good?” Blaine breathes hotly against his cheek. “Tell me, Kurt.”

“Yes, so good, so fucking good,” Kurt mutters.

He’s drowning in sensation but he’s burning at Blaine’s touch. It feels like he’s just come home, like this is how it’s supposed to be; Blaine’s hands on him with Blaine’s heartbeat thrumming so close to his body.

Blaine slows his pace.

“You watched me when I came,” Blaine says lowly, his voice almost a growl. “In the movie theatre, you watched me. I could feel your eyes on me. I came so hard, Kurt, so hard.”

“F-fuck, Blaine,” Kurt pants into his roommate’s t-shirt.

“I was thinking about you,” Blaine says, still stroking slowly.

Kurt’s mind reels.

“I was thinking about fucking you.”

Kurt trembles. He digs his fingernails into Blaine’s arm.

“When Thomas was sucking me, I was thinking about fucking you,” Blaine says, quickening the pace of his hand. “I wanted to come inside you.”

“Oh god,” Kurt moans loudly, thrusting into Blaine’s fist.

“I didn’t want to come in his mouth.” Blaine twists his wrist with every stroke now.

Kurt buries his face into Blaine’s chest.

“I wanted you.”

Kurt comes with an almost silent scream. His body arches, tears leak out of his eyes and he comes all over Blaine’s fist, all over his stomach, and he comes so fucking hard that he nearly blacks out.

“Blaine, Blaine,” Kurt whimpers through the shocks of his orgasm.

Blaine strokes him through it, nuzzling the top of Kurt’s head with his cheek.

The only sound in the room now comes from Kurt’s lips in the form of breathy, thready panting as he comes back to himself.

When he opens his eyes, he tilts his head up. Blaine stares darkly.

“I love making you come, Kurt.”