Kurt was lying on the pillow next to him, his arm resting on Blaine’s hip (now stomach), his face buried in Blaine’s arm and his chest rising and falling gently as he slept. When he felt Blaine move, Kurt yawned and opened his eyes, which had dark bags under them, as though he hadn’t slept very well, or at all, during the night.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Kurt asked gently, sitting up and feeling Blaine’s forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re still a little warm.”

“Shit,” Blaine admitted, causing Kurt to chuckle for a second before he glanced at the bedroom door and then at the bathroom.

“How about you take a shower, and I’ll make you some breakfast,” Kurt said. He paused, eyes dropping to Blaine’s lips for a second before adding, “I’d kiss you but I know you haven’t brushed your teeth yet and I’m very aware of what your breath must smell like.” He stuck his tongue out at Blaine who laughed softly in reply.

Kurt walked over to a nearby dresser and pulled out a couple of towels, placing them on the bed. “Let me know if you need anything. There’s a spare toothbrush in the cabinet above the sink,” he said with a smile before he left Blaine alone in the room.

Feeling more human than he did the day before, Blaine now had a chance to see where he was. Kurt’s room was nice; with vibrant red walls and a lot of dark coloured wooden furniture from the desk and TV cabinet to the king-size bed Blaine was currently lying in. Wooden shelves containing various photographs of people Blaine didn’t recognise, but guessed were his family and friends from Ohio.

There was a picture of him graduating high school beside his college graduation and one of him outside the theatre where he was doing Phantom with a man in a baseball cap and plaid shirt. He had his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and they were both grinning and pointing up at the poster announcing Kurt’s addition to the show. They couldn’t have looked more different, but Blaine assumed this man was his father just by the way his eyes sparkled with pride. Blaine smiled, running his fingers down the picture.

He climbed into Kurt’s shower, letting the hot water wash over his body, beating hard on his aching muscles. Groaning, Blaine blindly grabbed the nearest shower gel, his lips perking into another smile when he smelt the coconut and jasmine that he now associated with Kurt. He had woken up several times in the night only to bury his face into the coconut scented pillow and drift back off to sleep. He rinsed his hair before he realised that he didn’t have his gel with him.

He wrapped himself in the towel Kurt had left out for him, securing it around his waist so it rested on his hips, using the other one to dry his face and hair with. He brushed his teeth, feeling tons better from cleaning the previous night off of him. When he returned to the bedroom he found the bed made and his clothes no where to be found. Frowning, he dropped the smaller towel in the laundry basket and went out to find Kurt.

The lounge contained more dark wood matched against sea green walls and hardwood floors. Black and white photographs of various New York landmarks and shots of the city were hung around the room beside an array of various wall-ornaments Blaine made a mental note to question Kurt about later. Blaine glanced around and was about to call out when he heard the toaster pop in the kitchen.

Kurt was spreading a thin layer of butter on a couple of slices of toast, humming a familiar tune under his breath when Blaine cleared his throat behind him. Kurt almost dropped the toast on the floor when he rounded and saw Blaine. His eyes raked over Blaine’s bare chest unabashed, his eyelids fluttering as they dropped to where the towel was riding low on his hips, cradling the V shape below his abdomen where a tuff of dark hair disappeared under the towel. Kurt opened his mouth to say something and giggled instead, his cheeks flushing pink as he brought his hand to his mouth.

Something in Blaine’s stomach twisted happily at Kurt’s reaction. Usually this feeling was pride, pride in the fact that he had the mark where he wanted them. But this… this feeling was more pleasure than anything. He was pleased that Kurt was staring at him like he’d died and gone to heaven. Blaine almost wanted to pull the towel away to see what Kurt would do.

“My clothes are missing,” Blaine said when Kurt remained silent, his gaze now on Blaine’s hair, which he had left natural. Dark curls fell across his forehead and coiled around his ears. Blaine carded his fingers through his hair, holding back a smirk as he saw Kurt’s pupils dilate.

“I washed them,” Kurt said, his voice a little higher. “They’re in the tumble drier now, so they’ll be another half hour.”

“So I have to stay naked for thirty more minutes?” Blaine asked innocently, trying to hold back a grin as Kurt’s flush exploded over the rest of his face.

“Oh! No, no. Of course not, you can borrow my clothes,” Kurt said. He turned back to the counter, muttering under his breath words Blaine couldn’t make out.

“What was that?” Blaine asked, stepping closer.

“I- I made you some dry toast,” Kurt said, handing Blaine one of the two plates of toast triangles. “Just in case the bug isn’t out of your system, best to try and eat this and if you’re okay, I’ll make you something bigger for lunch.”

Blaine accepted the plate and blinked. “I’m staying for lunch?” This was something else new to him. Usually after spending the night with a guy (if it lasted that long), he’d grab a bite of breakfast and leave. But Kurt wanted him to stay until lunch, maybe longer. Blaine chewed his lip thoughtfully before saying, “That would be nice, thank you.”

Kurt smiled in replied, taking a bite of his own buttered toast.

*

While Kurt showered, Blaine walked around the apartment to get a feel for what kind of guy Kurt Hummel was. For example, from the looks of the six or so copies of Vogue kept on one of the coffee tables, he liked fashion. He also had a love of cheesecake after finding a half eaten family-sized cake in the fridge, a spoon sticking out of the top. His hallway closet suggested that he had a thing for boots, having found eight pairs in the small closet alone.

His taste in music was mixed. There were pop albums, Broadway soundtracks, a little old rock, some classic jazz and a couple of country albums sitting in his CD rack. Blaine was a little giddy when he found Katy Perry’s first album sitting on top of the CD player.

“You look good,” came a voice from behind him. Blaine rounded to find Kurt leant against the doorframe to the bedroom, his gaze drifting over Blaine’s attire. Borrowing Kurt’s clothes had been a difficult task when he didn’t own very many lounging clothes. Blaine had settled for a plain white t-shirt (that stretched across his chest and fitted a little snug) and a pair of sweatpants that were too long for him and drowned his bare feet.

Blaine was about to return to his default setting, already priming the words ‘they’d look better on your bedroom floor’ but found himself blushing (really, Blaine?) and saying, “Thanks. So you do.” He licked his lips and allowed himself to comb over Kurt’s body. He was wearing something similar to Blaine, but obviously the clothes fitted properly. That didn’t mean that Blaine couldn’t make out Kurt’s toned arms or stomach through the thin t-shirt or the way his pants hugged his ass just enough to make Blaine’s cock twitch at the sight of the smooth curve of his ass.

“I was thinking movie afternoon, how does that sound?” Kurt asked, holding up three DVD cases and tilting his head to the side.

“Depends on what movies you have,” Blaine said, settling down on the sofa.

“I have three choices for you: RENT, Die Hard or American Psycho,” Kurt said, holding them up to show him. When he noticed Blaine’s eyebrows furrow he added, “The last two belong to my stepbrother who left them here last time he visited. I wasn’t sure what kind of film guy you were, so I varied.”

Blaine chewed the inside of his mouth, his eyes glossing over the cover of American Psycho. Blaine didn’t think he’d be able to get through the first half without feeling entirely uncomfortable about the shared passion he and Bateman had. Especially with Kurt sitting right next to him.

“I’ve never seen RENT,” he said thoughtfully, looking up at Kurt with questioning eyes.

Kurt gasped, pulling open the DVD case and popping the disc into the player. “Oh well, you’re in for a treat. I only hope you don’t mind me singing along,” he said, dropping down next to Blaine on the sofa and turning the TV on.

As the movie started, Kurt reached behind and pulled down a blanket that had been hanging over the top of the sofa. He draped it over his and Blaine’s legs.

It was about five songs in before Kurt’s quiet humming turned into him singing above the characters on the screen and Blaine found himself watching Kurt, his mouth split into a grin so wide that his jaw was starting to ache. He was lying against the sofa while Kurt was sitting up, waving his arms around as he belted out a song Blaine didn’t know, but thoroughly enjoyed as he watched Kurt perform.

As the last few notes died out, Kurt grinned, face flushed pink as he slumped down against the sofa to watch the next part. Blaine missed the next fifteen minutes of the movie just staring at Kurt, wondering how he could possibly be real. Blaine felt his stomach clench and felt a rush of need shoot through his body. He nervously shifted closer to Kurt, resting his head carefully on his shoulder. Kurt jolted for a second before his arm reached around Blaine’s shoulders, bringing him close.

They spent the majority of the afternoon like that, watching movies wrapped up in each other. It was nice. It was different but it somehow felt right, felt like Blaine should have been doing this all the time.

It was after they had watched Die Hard that Kurt flicked the TV channels to some sitcom Blaine didn’t know. Kurt seemed to enjoy it, smiling brightly, his lips pinned up permanently as he tried to catch Blaine up on what was happening between the blond man in the nice suit and the brunette reporter. The corners of Kurt’s eyes crinkled and he absent stroked his bare neck with his hand, his fingers gliding over his collarbone.

Blaine, still snuggled close into Kurt’s chest, blinked at this, his cock twitching with interest. Kurt must have sensed him staring because his smile dropped and his mood shifted, his lips parting and his tongue caught between his teeth.

Blaine could feel his heart thumping against his chest and Kurt’s hot breath on his face as he locked eyes with him. Piercing blue that caused Blaine to forget why he had even come over in the first place. He had one thought and that was that he needed to kiss Kurt, to feel him, to touch him. He was feeling warm again, his skin pricking with the heat. This time he knew it wasn’t the fever.

Blaine licked his lips before he leant forwards, pressing their lips together. Kurt sighed against his mouth, his hand coming up to cup Blaine’s cheek as Blaine licked along Kurt’s bottom lip. Kurt’s lips parted immediately and Blaine didn’t waste a second deepening the kiss, not caring when a moan left his mouth and was swallowed by Kurt who pulled him so he was laying on top of him.

Kurt’s hands ran up and under Blaine’s shirt, his fingers brushing against his abdomen, causing Blaine’s muscles to tense and relax, a deep heat twisting in his stomach, his breath catching in his throat when Kurt’s fingers stroked over one of his nipples.

Blaine shifted so his hands were on either side of Kurt’s head, holding his body up as he nudged one of his knees between Kurt’s legs to part them. Kurt’s hands snaked around Blaine’s back so he could stroke along Blaine’s spine, making him shiver.

Blaine crushed his lips against Kurt’s again, kissing him desperately, not noticing when they teeth clashed for a second. Blaine pressed his hips down, letting out a groan as he felt Kurt’s clothed erection meet his own, their sweatpants allowing Blaine to feel the hard line of Kurt’s erection against him.

Blaine ground his hips down harder, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a broken cry as Kurt whimpered against his mouth, biting down on Blaine’s bottom lip a little too hard and causing Blaine to gasp.

“Sorry,” Kurt said, a little breathless.

“’S’kay,” Blaine mumbled, nipping back at Kurt’s lip in retaliation. He kissed along Kurt’s jaw line, peppering his neck with a mixture of wet kisses, bites and the occasional lick as he found a rhythm, rocking his hips against Kurt.

Kurt shifted so he could wrap his legs around Blaine’s waist, pulling him closer as Blaine’s rutting became faster, more frantic. Blaine sucked a bruise into Kurt’s pulse point, pulling at the skin with his teeth as he moaned every time his erection brushed against Kurt’s.

“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine called out unabashed. “You feel so good, fuck.”

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s face with both hands, dragging his mouth back to his own, panting into Blaine’s mouth as his back arched off the sofa. “Gonna – oh god, I’m gonna –“

Kurt pressed his forehead against Blaine’s shoulder, crying out a string of inaudible words mixed with “Blaine, Blaine, Blaine,” as he came. He dug his fingernails into Blaine’s shoulders, falling boneless against the sofa and allowing his eyes to fall shut.

Blaine wasn’t far off, rocking against Kurt like his life depended on it, his knees digging into the sofa and his arms aching from the strain of keeping his body up. Blaine’s mouth parted as he stared down at Kurt, his eyes completely blown with want. Kurt’s lips were swollen and red, his hair sticking up at all directions and his neck, his beautiful milky neck, was now littered with tiny red bite marks and a purpling bruise that wouldn’t disappear for days.

Blaine thrust against Kurt’s thigh several more times before he arched his back, stilling himself as he rode out his orgasm. Kurt had opened his eyes now and was watching him, chewing his bottom lip, his eyes wide and brighter than Blaine had ever seen them, his expression wondrous.

As Blaine slumped forwards onto Kurt, he giggled, pressing a dry kiss to Kurt’s lips.

“Feeling better?” Kurt asked mockingly after they had both come down, trying not to smirk as Blaine raised his eyebrows, scrunching his lips to one side as he pretended to think about it.

“You could say that,” Blaine said, his voice low. He lowered his mouth to kiss at Kurt’s neck again, tracing the bruise with the tip of his tongue, Kurt lifting his head to give Blaine better access. Kurt sighed happily, his fingers absently drawing patterns up Blaine’s bare arm.

They laid there for a few minutes before Blaine couldn’t take it anymore. “I feel sticky,” he said.

Kurt chuckled. “You and me both. You can take the bathroom first. Take some underwear from the top drawer.”

Blaine nodded and climbed off of Kurt, giving him one final kiss before he jogged to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up and slipped into a pair of Kurt’s underwear. The very motion of wearing Kurt’s boxers caused his cock to perk up again. Blaine discarded the now damp sweatpants in the laundry basket, remembering that his own jeans would be dry by now.

He went straight to the kitchen, opening the tumble drier and pulling out his jeans. He gave them a quick smell, smiling fondly that his pants now smelt like Kurt before pulling them on.

When he returned to Kurt he found the other man tidying the coffee table of the DVDs and the empty bowls that were full of vegetable soup at lunchtime. Kurt smiled when he noticed Blaine return. He then picked up Blaine’s phone and handed it to him.

“While you were getting changed your phone beeped,” Kurt said.

“Oh?” Blaine asked, frowning. The only person who text him was Quinn and he knew that she was on a job in the Hamptons and wouldn’t bother him until she was back.

“Yeah, someone called Jesse?” Kurt asked, shrugging. His tone was pleasant and while Blaine quickly tried to rearrange his features to something neutral, Kurt appeared nonchalant.

Blaine took the phone from him and shivered when he read the message on the locked screen, feeling glad that Kurt had left the room before he had seen Blaine’s face drop and pale.

Jesse St James
I need a progress report, Anderson. Call me.