Kurt doesn't push Blaine out of his life this time. In fact, everything is completely normal — almost too normal. Kurt texts Blaine on Sunday to ask him the name of the actor who played the love interest in the last movie they saw together. Blaine replies — Gareth David-Lloyd — and Kurt says thanks. On Monday Kurt sends him a photo of a lamp: Found this at a thrift store. Tacky or just quirky enough to work? Blaine replies: If you paint it, I think it will be fine.

Blaine again is faced with the idea that he might have dreamt that kiss. Because Kurt is definitely not acknowledging it, and it's too strange to think why. Maybe Kurt regrets it, or then again, maybe he wants Blaine to bring it up first.

Suspecting that one of those reasons is probably true, Blaine decides to mention it when they meet for coffee on Tuesday. He'll lay it all out on the table, and, as much as it pains him, if Kurt still just wants to be friends, Blaine will respect it. There's no need to make a bigger deal out of this than necessary.

But as much as Blaine wants that to be the way it happens, he oversleeps Tuesday morning and has an appointment with a printer that he can't be late for. Jan West may be Price's biggest client, but she's not the only one, and with as busy as he's been with her campaign, Blaine's been neglecting other projects.

Kurt is sitting at a table with two paper cups in front of him when Blaine rushes through the door 20 minutes late.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," he says between rasping breaths. "I overslept and then I realized I had a 9 a.m. meeting that I can't be late for. So I can't stay. Do you hate me? I hate me."

"Blaine, it's fine," Kurt says, smiling. He hands Blaine his coffee and says, "I got your coffee, so you're good to go."

He leaves in a rush and doesn't see Kurt again for at least a week. The problem is, things get busy for Blaine; he's wrapping everything up for the holiday campaign. So he and Kurt miss movie nights and Tuesday coffee gets pushed back further and further because Blaine doesn't have as much free time as he would like. Work takes over his mind and his life. Kurt seems to take it in stride.

As time wears on, Blaine feels like he's missed his window of opportunity to talk to Kurt about the kiss. It's gone on too long, and it's become this elephant in the room that neither of them mentions. So when faced with the choice of bending to adapt to the situation at hand or breaking and upsetting the precious equilibrium of their friendship, Blaine decides to bend.

Obviously Kurt regrets kissing him, and Blaine doesn't want to bring it up if Kurt isn't ready. Besides, it's not a big deal to Blaine if Kurt doesn't think it is, and he's not mentioning it, so it must not be a big deal.

When they finally get some time to hang out again, Kurt invites Blaine over to watch a movie, which is strange because they never go over to his place. Normally they're at Blaine's because Kurt doesn't live alone, but Santana and Lauren are going to be out, and Kurt is insistent that they spend the evening at his place.

"I'm so glad you wanted to do this," Blaine says, pouring them both a glass of wine. "I've missed our movie nights."

It's comforting that it's just the two of them again; Blaine can't remember the last time they were alone for any length of time, and it's far less tense than he expected. There's no lingering awkwardness, which should feel strange but doesn't.

"Me too," Kurt says. "We've both been so busy lately."

"I'm sorry about that," Blaine says. "With the launch party coming up, I've been pulling 12-hour days. Yvonne is ready to pull her hair out, and Lorelei's breathing down my neck to get that last shoot done. Did the agency contact you about that?"

"Yeah, they called this morning," he says. "Just me, huh?"

"Well, it's just the one suit and we'll be in the studio for it. When I saw it, I knew it would be perfect on you. Wait until you see Ben's styling."

"I can't believe you didn't send me pictures," Kurt huffs. He's teasing; it feels good.

"I wanted to surprise you, silly. C'mon, let's go start this movie." Blaine nudges Kurt's shoulder and picks up the two glasses. He follows Kurt into the living room.

As they're settling into the worn sofa, Kurt says, "You should be my date to the launch party." He looks down at the wine glass Blaine hands him. "You know, since we both have to be there. Takes the pressure off to find someone else."

"Right." Blaine pauses for a moment, unsure if he wants to continue. This feels like a moment, like he should say something. "Kurt, can I ask you a question?"

"As long as it's not 'what's your favorite Vogue cover?' because you know I could never decide."

"No, it's not that, it's about that night at the club…"

Blaine trails off when he sees Kurt tense up, but he can't back out now. They need to talk about this — if for no other reason than to save Blaine's sanity.

"It's just… I feel like we've always been pretty honest with each other, and I don't want there to be any question where we stand… Because we have coffee together, we do movie nights; we're friends, and this…" He gestures between them. "… is something really special to me, and I don't want to screw it up." He pauses and takes a deep breath. This is it. He's all in. "But then you kissed me, and it was so great–"

"It was?" Kurt interrupts.

"It was perfect, Kurt. You're perfect, and I just want us to–"

But he's cut off at the sound of the front door opening. He and Kurt both turn to look just as Lauren bounds in with two girls and a guy he's never seen before.

"Hey guys," she says. "This is Angie and Jennifer, and Captain Ahab over there is called Rob." She's balancing a pizza in her left hand and a case of beer in her right. "Santana texted me; she's headed headed home with her flavor of the week and her roommate. Told me to grab a pizza."

"I thought you were going out tonight."

"Change of plans," she says. "The restaurant was booked for a private party, and Rob didn't want to do sushi, so… pizza." She looks between Kurt and Blaine and her eyes narrow. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No!" Kurt practically shouts. "No, no… we're just watching a movie. The more the merrier, right Blaine?"

Blaine swallows heavily. He'd just been about to confess his feelings to Kurt, and they were finally getting somewhere, but instead here they are, stuck in the middle of an impromptu house party with half a dozen strangers. Perfect.

"Right," he says. "The more the merrier." He takes a gulp of his wine and shivers as it burns down his throat.

After that night, Blaine doesn't see Kurt again until the photo shoot, and things are weird. Kurt isn't himself and it's showing in the photos.

"Kurt, can you try maybe angling your chin down more?" Zach asks. He snaps a few frames and looks at the preview on the screen, before turning to Blaine. "How's that look from over there?"

Blaine squints at the image on his laptop. "Something's not quite right," he says. "I can't put my finger on it." He stands up and walks over next to Zach. "Maybe the lighting?"

"I can try adding another strobe — make it harsher, maybe?"

"Yeah, let's try that," Blaine says. "Kurt, take five."

Blaine goes back to his laptop and scrolls through the last few shots. He can't quite figure out what's wrong with the photos. Everything is technically good, but Kurt's not connecting with the camera like he usually does. There's just something missing from his eyes, like his usual motivation is gone.

"Kurt, you got a sec?" he calls out.

Kurt looks up from his phone and nods, making his way over to Blaine.

"What's up?" he asks.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Blaine says. "I'm just not seeing your usual… spark."

"I'm sorry," Kurt says, looking down at his folded hands. "I guess I'm just distracted. I'll try harder."

"Just relax," Blaine says. "It's just me and Zach. You've done this a million times." He places a hand on Kurt's shoulder, trying to soothe him. He feels Kurt's muscles tense, so he drops his hand. "You ready?"

Kurt nods, and they get back to work. The lighting is better, making Kurt's angular features more severe; it should be working, but it's not. Zach's huffing a little, and Blaine is losing his patience. He drops his head in hand and considers the situation. He knows Kurt is off his game because of him; the unspoken things between them have become a weight neither of them is handling very well. It's his job to make sure Kurt's on his game, and he's failing, personally and professionally. They need to talk, but there's no time here on set.

Suddenly, Blaine has an idea.

"Hey Zach," he says. "Mind if I try something?"

"I'll try anything at this point," he says.

"Okay, guys, just bear with me here."

Kurt looks up questioningly, but doesn't object.

Blaine walks over to Zach and holds out his hand. "May I?"

Zach raises an eyebrow, but holds out the camera for Blaine to take. Kurt's eyes light up with something new: a challenge, perhaps. Blaine is transfixed as if some force is holding him in place.

"Kurt, just make sure you maintain eye contact with the camera," Blaine says. "Direct it all at the lens." What he means is, take all that anger, desire, passion, frustration, whatever it is that is holding him back, whatever he's feeling, and channel it into his work. Let it go. He lowers his voice and leans in so only Kurt can hear him. "Direct it all at me if you have to."

Kurt seems to understand because he nods, his eyes fixed on Blaine's as his breathing picks up, and if it weren't for the camera and all the lights between them, Blaine would swear they're back outside that bathroom, suspended in the second before Kurt kissed him. Then Kurt locks his gaze on the camera lens three feet from his face, determination apparent in the set of his jaw, and a hushed anticipation settles over them. Kurt blinks twice and relaxes into the posture that Blaine instantly recognizes as his model's stance; he's ready to go.

Blaine smiles and ducks behind the camera, using the viewfinder rather than the digital display. There's an intimacy in it, seeing Kurt through the focused view of the lens, and Blaine is awestruck. It's like seeing Kurt for the first time, all of his emotions raw and his soul laid bare. In that moment, the shock of Kurt's beauty shoots through Blaine like fireworks — a sharp point of light that erupts into a shower of sparks in his chest. He holds his breath and snaps the shutter. Zach had left it on a rapid-fire setting, so he shoots about 10 frames at once, catching the subtle changes in Kurt's expression.

He glances down at the display; even at only 3 inches wide, he can tell the shots are what they're looking for. Blaine lifts the camera back up and smiles. "Alright, Kurt, let's try that again, and this time I want you to really take a risk. Try something new and don't hold back."

The set is eerily silent, only the click of the shutter and Kurt's subtle shifts in movement making any sound. Blaine is certain Zach can hear his heartbeat because it's so loud in his own ears, there's no way it can't be heard from space, let alone five feet away, though he finds it hard to care because there's an energy in the room he's not felt before. And judging by the light in Kurt's eyes, Blaine thinks that he also recognizes this groove they've somehow managed to get into.

Zach retreats behind Blaine's laptop after a bit to see the photos as Blaine shoots them.

"You look like you've done this before," Zach says, when Blaine finally lowers the camera for a second to check a shot.

"Just as a hobby," Blaine replies without looking up. "In college."

Zach shrugs. "You're good," he says. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks," he says, before turning back to Kurt. "Okay. Give me more." He pauses, feeling like they're on the verge of something here, like there's something lurking just under the surface and straining to get out. If he can only tap into it, find the right thing to say to pull just a bit more emotion out of Kurt. "I want to see whatever it is you're feeling… right now. Let it read on your face. It's just you and me."

Blaine sees Kurt's jaw tense, just slightly, and his breath catches. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Kurt grips his tie in his right hand and pulls it to the side, lifting up on his toes and tensing his whole body. As Blaine clicks the shutter, he exhales. He's overwhelmed with a flurry of emotions and pure visceral need. He wants to grab Kurt by that tie and take him to the back room and ravage him, pin him against a wall and kiss him until he begs for more. Kurt is visibly panting, and Blaine wonders if he's thinking the same thing.

He never wants this feeling to end, this perfect connection they have — Blaine, Kurt and the camera — he wants to keep going, but he knows it has to end some time.

"I think we got it," Blaine says finally. He tries to keep his face neutral, but his body is practically shaking with adrenalin and the thrill of what just happened on set.

"I'd say so," Zach says, fanning himself dramatically. "That was H-O-T hot."

Kurt seems frozen for a moment, almost as if the whole thing hasn't registered yet, and then he smiles, a beaming, all-over grin. "You really think so?"

"I think we got the best shots of the campaign today," Zach says. "Kurt, you were amazing!"

"Thanks," he says, blushing a little. "Blaine helped. I mean– his direction. Channeling my emotions was a good suggestion." He scuffs his shoes on the concrete floor and looks up at Blaine.

Blaine meets Kurt's eyes and sees the same look Kurt had when he kissed him. His skin tingles with something new, something unexpected.

"Do you want to grab lunch?" he asks.

"You take my breath away," Kurt says, standing in the doorway of Blaine's bedroom. They'd stopped at his apartment so Blaine could change his shirt, and they'd both been so distracted talking about the shoot, that Kurt had simply followed him in. Blaine hadn't even realized he was there until he hears Kurt's voice behind him, and he freezes. Before turning around, he glances down at himself. He has his shirt off, and his pants are unbuttoned and slung low around his hips, a hint of the grey of his boxer briefs peeking out of the fly.

Blaine turns around slowly, unsure of what to do next.

Kurt's eyes flick down Blaine's body before snapping back up to meet his eyes and widening in part shock, part arousal.

"Did I say that out loud?"

Blaine licks his lips and frowns slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Did you mean it?"

Kurt inhales and holds his breath for a moment, biting his bottom lip and then releasing it. "Yes?" The word comes out with his breath, and Blaine crosses the room in an instant.

"Me too," he says. "When you kissed me, I–"

Kurt presses a finger to his lips, "Shh. No talking. Let's just…" and he trails off as he leans forward to brush his lips against Blaine's, a tentative question that Blaine answers by pushing forward into Kurt, rising up on his toes a little and rocking them both with the movement. Kurt catches him by his hips and steadies them both, holding Blaine in place and drawing a groan from Blaine's throat. He wants to be closer, so opens his mouth to invite Kurt's tongue. It brushes against his, velvety and teasing, just a whisper of contact. Blaine just wants this moment to last; he wants to savor it because it's right.

This is where they should be; it's theirs.

But then Kurt's kissing becomes more insistent, more possessive, as he pulls his lips away and peppers Blaine's face and neck with open-mouthed kisses.

"Kurt," Blaine gasps. "I need you."

Kurt pauses, and pulls back to look at Blaine, his eyes roving over Blaine's face as if he's trying to decide something as he reads him like a book. "You have me," he says finally. "However you want me."

That's all Blaine needs to hear. He surges forward and grips Kurt by the waist, steering him toward the bed. When the back of Kurt's knees hit the edge, they're jolted a little, Blaine's knees knocking against Kurt's shins as they fall in a tangle of limbs onto the sheets. Kurt's movements are frantic now, scrabbling for a place to hold onto Blaine, but there's nothing to grab onto with him shirtless, so his hands paint Blaine's skin with warmth, every sensation burning through him like fire.

Blaine straddles Kurt and nudges his shirt up, trailing his palm along Kurt's smooth skin and feeling a prickle of stubble along his chest where the hair is starting to grow out from his most recent waxing.

"That tickles," Kurt says, shivering.

Blaine pulls his hand back. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Kurt says, reaching for Blaine's hand and placing it back on his torso. "I wasn't complaining."

Blaine smiles down at him, and whispers "okay" — a tiny breath of a word that carries more weight than it should. Now that he has express permission to touch, Blaine moves with intent, shoving Kurt's shirt farther up his chest so he can lower his head and rub his cheek along Kurt's ribs. The stutter and start of their dry skin ghosting over each other sends a shiver up his spine as goose bumps break out over his arms. Blaine traces a loose figure eight over Kurt's side with his tongue and giggles when Kurt squirms beneath him.

After spending months memorizing every inch of Kurt's body on his computer screen, Blaine delights in mapping out Kurt's dips and angles with his fingers and mouth, exploring in ways he's only dared to dream, as he undresses him and learns Kurt's rhythm. Blaine treasures every caress and sigh, every shudder and gasp, unsure if he'll ever get the chance to do this again. Right now it doesn't matter because he's here, and Kurt's here, and there's nowhere else he'd rather be and nothing else he'd rather do.

Kurt becomes gradually more vocal, his moans and high-pitched whimpering giving way to full-on groans and the occasional "oh god" or "Blaine" until he's begging to be touched, to be released from the overwhelming surge of want coursing through them both. And Blaine wants nothing more than to give it to him, to finally acquiesce to the pull of the tide washing over them. He reaches down between them and hooks his fingers under the waistband of Kurt's briefs, the only article of clothing separating Blaine from the few inches of Kurt's skin he's only been able to fantasize about until now, as he follows the teasing strip of hair trailing down beneath his bellybutton and disappearing beneath tightly stretched cotton.

Blaine, still in his own jeans, suddenly feels completely naked in front of Kurt. They've never been this real with each other before, and it's freeing and frightening in equal measure. The release he feels at just being able to touch, to explore… to have, is indescribable. He wants so much, but mostly he wants to savor.

Kurt raises up on his elbows at Blaine's hesitance and lifts an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

Blaine nods eagerly. "You're just… god, Kurt… I can't stop looking at you."

"You've seen me before."

Blaine shakes his head, even though Kurt's right, because it's just not the same. "Not like this," he says. "So open, and wanting, and…" he feels the corners of his mouth tug into a teasing grin. "So fuckable."

"So fuck me."

"What?"

"Fuck me," he says. "Have your way with me. Do what you've always wanted."

"Why do I feel like there's a catch?"

"No catch," Kurt says, trailing a hand along Blaine's arm. It's feather light and teasing. "I want it too, Blaine. Now stop talking and kiss me."

For a second Blaine thinks he might stop them from crossing this line — his brain screaming "pull back, think, talk it through" — but his body, and the want of it all, is pulling him down and down and down, drowning him in Kurt, and he knows it's a losing battle to try and fight it any longer. There's no easing into it, no dip of the toe in the too-deep waters, he's diving forward headfirst, and the rush of it all feels like running through a sprinkler on a hot summer day, or pressing his face into the cool side of the pillow — fire-quenching and comforting all at once. It's all he can do to keep from telling Kurt he loves him.

He looks down at Kurt and lets himself fall, losing himself in the feeling of Kurt's body pressed against his and the simple movements of their lips and tongues, tangled between them like vines. Everything else just slips away, and he's left with only the quiet desire for sex and its intimate release.

Once he decides to give himself over fully to the moment, Blaine's thoughts turn unbridled, sexual, deviant; his fantasies run wild through his mind. He wants to take and taste and indulge. So he does.

Blaine runs his right hand along Kurt's neck and pushes him back into the bed as Kurt arches his lower body into Blaine's touch. His fingers thread through Kurt's hair, thick and glossy between them. He tugs experimentally, earning a small grunt of pleasure; he tugs harder and Kurt groans.

That one little sound is the first domino in a line, knocking down all of Blaine's hesitation. It feels almost symbolic as he removes what remains of their clothing in quick, fluid movements, without pretense or delay.

And then it's groping and tasting and feeling and a thousand reasons they should have done this on the day they met. The sensations are heightened; every touch a point of light.

Kurt's hands trace down Blaine's back like flames licking at his skin and then he's squeezing Blaine's ass and tugging him closer, rutting his hard cock against Blaine's.

"God, Blaine, please touch me," Kurt says. "I'm going to die if I don't come soon."

And without even thinking about it, Blaine replies, "I want to suck you."

"Fuck yes, please." Kurt throws his head back and arches up, rutting against air, his hard cock bouncing freely as he searches for relief.

Blaine makes his way down the bed until he's level with Kurt's flushed cock. Positioned between Kurt's legs, Blaine realizes he's waited so long to be able to do this with Kurt that he doesn't even hesitate in wrapping his hand around the base and his lips around the head. He lowers himself slowly, though, wanting to feel Kurt fill his mouth.

He hears a choked off moan above him, urging him on. He sucks harder and takes Kurt in as far as he can, the head of Kurt's cock just hitting the back of his throat. Kurt bucks up at the sensation, but Blaine is just as quick, pulling back just enough to keep from choking.

"That feels so fucking good," Kurt says.

At the sound of Kurt's breathy declaration, Blaine finds himself fighting the urge to rut down into the sheets. He needs to last, to make sure Kurt comes; it's his number one goal and he's going to make it happen. Of course, he realizes how silly he's being. The goal here is for both of them to get off, but Blaine just wants to see Kurt fall apart, to shout his name and tip over the edge into bliss — and all because Blaine led him there.

It isn't long before Kurt is tensing up and Blaine can feel his orgasm building. His balls draw up tight under Blaine's fingertips and his thighs flex as Blaine braces himself for the taste of Kurt's come in his mouth. But then Kurt's hand is on his shoulder and he's pushing against Blaine, saying, "stop… stop."

Blaine pulls off and looks up at him, flexing his jaw where it's begun to ache a little. "What's the matter?"

"If you don't stop I'm going to come," Kurt pants, an arm thrown over his face.

Blaine smiles. "I thought that was the point."

"Oh god yes," Kurt sighs. "But I want us to both come, and I'm kind of a selfish prick. If you make me come, you're gonna be on your own. So…"

"I get the picture," Blaine says biting back a laugh. "So what do you suggest?"

"Do you have condoms?" Kurt asks.

Blaine looks at him for a moment, thinking, "I'm a single gay guy over the age of 18, what the fuck do you think?" before jumping up from the bed and digging around in his sock drawer for the box he knows is probably far more buried than it should be.

Blaine turns around to face Kurt triumphantly, box of condoms and lube in his hand, and he's greeted with the most delicious sight: Kurt sprawled out spectacularly on display for him, chest flushed and heaving, his cock jutting up stiffly from between his legs as he crooks a finger at Blaine to bring him back to the bed.

Stumbling and awkward, Blaine makes his way back to the bed, and it has to be the most unsexy thing ever, but Kurt doesn't seem deterred as he grins at Blaine before flipping himself over and arching his hips up seductively toward Blaine.

Blaine had hoped Kurt would remain on his back so he could see his face, but if this is how Kurt wants it, he'll happily comply. It briefly occurs to him that maybe Kurt hasn't had as much experience with sex as he'd first thought. Sebastian had said they fucked, and he knows what that often means when you're young. Fucking for the sake of fucking and sticking to the positions where it's easiest to get off and best to avoid getting too attached.

It's the only time since Kurt came into his bedroom that he's considered their age difference. So if this is how Kurt wants it, Blaine will give it to him. There's no point in forcing him out of his comfort zone if it's only going to scare him off again.

So he takes time to prepare Kurt, fairly certain he's not been having sex regularly, expertly using his fingers and lube to open him up.

"Jesus Christ, Blaine," Kurt says, his voice muffled where his face is shoved into a pillow. "Will you just do it already?"

"I just… don't want to hurt you," Blaine says, trying not to sound condescending. He doesn't want Kurt to think he's assuming anything.

Kurt turns his head to glare over his shoulder at Blaine. "You're not going to fucking break me," he says. "I'm not some blushing virgin."

"Right... sorry."

Blaine positions himself behind Kurt and lines up, hesitating only for a second before pushing forward into the tight heat of Kurt's body. Blaine always likes this part the best, that moment when he can feel the other person's body yield to his own with an instant rush of pleasure and intimacy, as close as he can possibly be to another person. He groans, savoring the moment, but then Kurt is grinding back toward him and he forgets everything else.

It happens in a rush after that, having already worked themselves up so many times. Kurt is rutting into the mattress with each of Blaine's thrusts as Blaine grips tightly to his hips, meeting Kurt's rhythm as best he can. It's too much and it's probably going to be over far too soon, but Blaine can't find it in him to care because it all feels so good.

Just as he thinks he can't hold on any longer, Kurt cries out, his body shuddering and clenching around him, and that's all Blaine needs to send him over the edge too. The force of his own orgasm causes him to lose his balance, pressing his weight into Kurt, but he doesn't seem to mind, sighing contentedly as Blaine's body settles over him.

They lie like that for a moment, panting and coming down from the high of orgasm until Blaine can feel his legs enough to lift up on his knees and pull out.

"Wow," Kurt breathes.

"That doesn't even begin to cover it," Blaine replies, flopping down on the bed beside him.

"I'm glad we got that out of our systems," Kurt says matter-of-factly.

Blaine looks over at him, wondering what he means. It definitely doesn't feel out of his system. He wants to do it all again… a lot. All the time.

He laughs nervously and says, "Yeah… uh, me too." Blaine hopes Kurt doesn't hear that questioning tone in his voice, and yet, he's not even sure why he agreed.

"Good," Kurt says, sitting up. He reaches to the floor for his underwear and stands to put them back on. He quickly finds all of his discarded clothing and turns back to Blaine on the bed.

Blaine is conflicted and suddenly very confused. Did Kurt really just think this was getting it out of his system? That they could go back to being friends after this? He tries to calm his breathing, not let it show, but he's kind of panicking.

"It was stupid to try to deny that we're attracted to each other," Kurt says, still a little out of breath. He dresses quickly without looking at Blaine. "But it was really starting to affect our work. Now we can focus again. It's a win-win." Kurt turns and smiles at him. "I'll call you," he says.

Blaine props himself up on an elbow and opens his mouth to say something, anything to get Kurt to stay, but he freezes, the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nods and watches as Kurt walks out of his bedroom. When he hears the front door close, Blaine drops his head back on the pillow and tries not to think about what just happened.