They left Tash in Z'auli with a sizeable share of the weapons and other items of value they had stolen from the slave-traders. It would amount to enough in trade to support Tash until he was able to find some means of supporting himself.

It was an odd farewell.

It wasn't exactly as if Tash had become their friend, but it wasn't as if he were entirely other than a friend either. Neither of them completely trusted him, but neither of them wanted to see him come to any harm either.

Blaine believed that Tash had and would continue to change. He gave Tash a tight and sincere hug when they said goodbye.

Kurt was less sure. But Tash had saved Kurt, which had allowed Kurt to save Blaine. And he had also saved Kurt the trouble of killing Brec. So Kurt reasoned that Tash deserved a shot, if nothing else, at a better kind of life. Kurt gave Tash's shoulder a firm squeeze before he and Blaine departed.

"Thank you," Tash said humbly, fidgeting slightly in front of the inn where the three of them had chosen to part ways. He looked up and took a deep breath.

"Take care of each other," he said. Blaine smiled and squeezed Kurt's hand. Kurt bit his lip and tried to smile as well, but didn't quite succeed. Tash sighed.

"I'm sorry, Blaine," he said before slipping into Elfin tongue.

"Kurt, please soul-walk about him before you make a decision," he said.

Kurt's eyes narrowed, and he seemed torn between replying to what Tash was saying and admonishing him for speaking Elfin at all in front of Blaine.

"I would do anything to be with my lifemate again, Kurt. Anything. This isn't the sort of thing you can just walk away from. Just...be with him while he lasts in this world. The world will keep for a century or two."

When Kurt's eyes met Tash, there was no anger. There was only grief. He didn't explain, but Tash shrugged and nodded.

"Good luck to both of you," Tash finished in Villaluan. He smiled, perhaps a bit sadly, and headed toward the inn.

"What did Tash say to you?" Blaine asked as they headed out of Z'auli.

Kurt shrugged. "Just...advice about going home, I suppose."

Home.

It wasn't the firs time he had heard Kurt call it that. Of course it would be home for Kurt, that much should have been obvious, but Blaine hadn't really thought about it that way because for him, home was simply Kurt.

Blaine had already lost N'auri. And now he might have to lose Kurt too.

"What...kind of advice?" Blaine ventured.

Kurt sighed, looking away, ready to deflect.

"Kurt, we're going to have to talk about this sometime," Blaine said softly.

Kurt turned back to him. "I know, Blaine. I already told you, once we cross the border..."

"Yeah," Blaine mumbled. "I know. I just...how far is it, Kurt? I feel like I'm just riding along, trying to enjoy the scenery on the way to my own execution."

"Don't say that," Kurt said quickly, tightening the hand that was holding Blaine's while he held the reins in the other.

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"Blaine, I know. I'm sorry too. I'm not trying to be cruel, but – well, with Tash here, and the detour to Z'auli - it was a distraction. But the truth is that now we're back on the path that I know, and the answer to your question is that we aren't far at all, and I can really only manage one source of emotional overload at a time."

Blaine swallowed and looked at Kurt shamefully. "Oh, Kurt, I didn't mean...I know how hard this is for you. I shouldn't have..."

"It's fine, Blaine, Kurt said softly, giving him a reassuring smile.

Blaine disentangled his hand from Kurt's and leaned into him, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist.

They rode in silence for most of the day. Neither could think of anything to say that wouldn't make everything hurt more.

Late that afternoon, Blaine woke without realizing he had been sleeping. Kurt's arm was curled around him and Blaine's head was on his shoulder. Blaine groaned at the stiffness in his neck as he sat up properly.

Kurt gave him a fond smile, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"What?" Blaine mumbled as he stretched.

"You just...your face is pink where you were lying on me, and I can see the weave of my tunic pressed into your skin. And your hair is..." Kurt didn't even have to say. Blaine knew how his curly hair flattened into odd shapes when he slept. Kurt laughed softly as Blaine began tugging it impatiently back into shape.

"It's very cute," Kurt said, leaning in to kiss Blaine's cheek where it was still warm and tingly from being pressed against Kurt.

Blaine pursed his lips slightly and gave Kurt a shy smile that made Kurt's heart drop to his knees and then leap back into his throat.

Their hands found one another.

Blaine squinted, then rubbed his eyes with his free hand, convinced that they were still thick with sleep. Because what he saw ahead of them was...incredibly strange.

It looked like a dome, the size of a large palace, made out of something like water but more like steam and a bit like the way the air takes on a wavy appearance on a very hot day.

It was hard to look directly at it, but impossible to look away.

When the dome was still there after blinking several times, Blaine turned to Kurt.

Kurt was gazing at the dome with a strange expression on his face, something between dread and longing. And he was steering them directly toward it.

"Kurt, what...?" Blaine allowed his voice to slowly trail off as they got closer to the dome and more details became apparent, such as the swirls of violet that raced across the surface of the dome, if there was even a surface to be had, and the strange rhythm to the warm breeze that began to pulsate around them, and the strange, sleepy feeling that seemed to be washing over him, even though he had just taken quite a long nap...

Kurt squeezed his hand. "Blaine, do you remember when I told you about what I was doing when the slave traders got me? The Nuptial Rite?"

Blaine nodded.

"Well, this was my destination." Kurt smiled. "It's the safest place I know. I think we should sleep here tonight."

Blaine was fighting to keep his eyes open. "I...thought you said it was a sacred site?" He mumbled.

"It is a sacred site, but that doesn't mean we can't stay there. I think you might really like it, Blaine."

Blaine found himself suddenly too exhausted to hold his head up, and slumped against Kurt, his head falling onto Kurt's shoulder.

"Mm so tired, Kurt," he sighed.

He was half asleep when he felt Kurt shake him violently. Blaine's eyes snapped open in alarm.

They had pulled to a stop. Kurt was holding his shoulders and staring at him with a very serious expression on his face.

"Blaine. Listen to me very carefully. You can not fall asleep until we get inside the dome."

Blaine whimpered. The dome seemed so far away. Kurt may as well have told not to fall asleep for a solid week.

Kurt brought one of his hands to Blaine's chin, nudging it upward until Blaine was looking him in the eye.

"Blaine. I know...I've heard this can happen. And it's going to be the same at the border, but stronger. You need to hold my hand tight and not let go, and you need to stay awake. Do you understand?"

Blaine nodded miserably.

"Okay," Kurt said nervously.

Blaine held onto Kurt's hand as they started moving again. It was obvious that Kurt was urging the horses faster as Blaine struggled to stay conscious.

Whenever his grip seemed to slacken, Kurt would give Blaine's hand a hard squeeze.

Blaine thought he had accidentally lapsed into sleep after all when Kurt's skin started to glow, but then he remembered that Kurt did that sometimes, when he was using his power, and then Blaine was glowing too, and then the horses and the carriage were also enveloped in the soft green glow.

Kurt squeezed his hand so hard, Blaine was positive he must have broken some bones. His half-lidded eyes popped open with a yelp.

"Kurt! You're hurting me!"

"I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you. But I don't want you slipping off into another dimension either."

Blaine whipped his head around so that he could gape at Kurt properly. "What?"

"Just hold on tight," Kurt said through clenched teeth, and he gripped Blaine's hand even harder as they surged forward.

For a moment there was nothing. No color, no texture, no depth and no sound. They had no bodies.

Except they must have had bodies, because Blaine's hand definitely hurt.

Because Kurt was squeezing it.

And then a blur of every color imaginable, and endless, screaming tunnels whipping out in every direction...

And then they were in the most beautiful clearing Blaine had ever seen.

He could see the walls of the dome from the inside as well, but here they had taken on a much calmer and more muted quality. They looked more like heavily frosted glass, blurred around the edges, than something writhing and pulsating and alive. The clearing itself consisted of a carpet of soft, vivid grass of green and violet and amber and rust. Off in the distance a bit was a babbling brook that Blaine had seen absolutely no evidence of outside of the dome. And there were the strangest trees...

No. They weren't trees. They were flowers.

The entire clearing was absolutely filled with flowers, from the tiniest and most delicate blossoms imaginable hiding shyly behind blades of grass to towering stalks as thick around as ten men and reaching almost to the top of the dome.

And there were birds, because Blaine could hear them, and the rustling amongst the trees – amongst the flowers hinted at other animal life as well. Blaine gasped when what he at first presumed was a dragonfly landed on his finger. Because it wasn't a dragonfly. It looked something like a miniscule cross between a Sidhe and a human, but with round black eyes barely rimmed by the thinnest band of gold imaginable, and no body hair whatsoever, and it was dappled blue and green and yellow, with delicately patterned translucent wings.

It sat on Blaine's finger, swinging its legs like a child on a tree branch, hands braced on either side of its hips, and gave Blaine a look of earnest appraisal.

Blaine remained absolutely frozen, afraid that the slightest twitch might somehow crush the tiny creature.

"What is it?" He breathed, barely moving his lips.

Kurt gave a small, delighted laugh at the wonder in Blaine's eyes.

"It's a pixie, Blaine."

"Does it...can it talk?"

Kurt shrugged a bit, then rested his chin on Blaine's shoulder, peering down at the little faerie.

"Not so that you or I could understand. There are those that study them. I believe they do communicate, though their language is much, much simpler than yours or mine. They tend to be very curious. I imagine that you are the first human this one would have ever seen."

And sure enough, the pixie had soon fluttered to Blaine's ear, tugging insistently at the top of it. Like Kurt, the pixie's ears were also pointed, and it seemed utterly intrigued by the shape.

Blaine squirmed a bit as the tiny hands prodded at him and the fluttering wings tickled his ear.

"Hey!" He cried out, laughing, as the creature began to climb inside of his ear to look around.

Kurt reached over to pull the creature out between two fingers when it seemed determined to explore more deeply.

"Kurt! Be careful!"

Kurt laughed lightly. "They're tougher than they look, Blaine. I'm not hurting it."

Just as Kurt had said, the pixie did not appear injured when Kurt dropped it into his palm. It did look somewhat indignant, however, and Blaine laughed at the haughty expression on the tiny face. The pixie opened its mouth and seemed to be launching into some sort of tirade, which only registered as barely audible squeaking to Blaine. Then, as if it had made its point, it turned and flew off.

Blaine turned to Kurt, beaming. "Kurt...this place..."

Kurt smiled back. "I know. You haven't seen the best part yet, though."

The horses began to lead them toward the center of the clearing at a steady walk, and it was then that Blaine realized he wasn't tired any more. In fact, if anything, he felt incredibly energized.

And...well...more than energized. He looked at Kurt and absolutely couldn't believe that they weren't both naked, that he wasn't spread out beneath him on the impossibly soft-looking grass. Without even realizing he was doing it, he placed his hand on Kurt's upper thigh and squeezed gently.

Kurt turned to him with a giddy laugh, his eyes just as dark with lust as Blaine's must have been.

"I know, Blaine," he murmured. "You can feel it too, can't you?"

Blaine's throat was dry. He swallowed hard. "Yeah," he said shakily. "What is – I mean, I always want you, but what is this?"

Kurt told him what it was, but it was unpronounceable and Elfin.

Hearing Kurt say it was also one of the hottest things Blaine had ever heard.

"Say that again," he purred, and began sucking gently at Kurt's neck.

Kurt gasped out the word again, groaning hard at the end.

Blaine let the hand on Kurt's thigh slip between his legs, and was unsurprised to find Kurt fully aroused.

"Blaine...gods...no, we have to stop."

Blaine moved his hand to Kurt's knee and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you serious? Why don't you just stop the carriage? That grass looks nice and soft, though I frankly wouldn't care if it were full of thorns right now."

Kurt looked like he was literally shaking from the sheer self-control he was exerting.

"It...we will, Blaine. But this is a very important shrine. It requires a specific sort of offering, and the ritual behind it is very important."

Blaine was confused, but before he could ask for clarification, he was struck silent by the sight before him.

They had rounded a cluster of flowering shrubs and flower-trees, to reveal an enormous statue of a Sidhe woman.

If statue were even the correct word. She did seem to be crafted of some sort of stone, but the flowering vines that wrapped around her seemed as essential a part of the structure as the stone itself. The vines wove themselves into an immaculate multi-colored flowing robe, which hung off her shoulders artfully to reveal her incredibly plump and voluptuous breasts, hips, stomach and thighs. Blaine had never seen a Sidhe that looked like that before. True, he had seen far fewer females than males, but they had all been so slim and lithe. It suited the statue incredibly well, however, and Blaine couldn't help but think he would find the image arousing if he were differently inclined.

Of course, Blaine was pretty much finding everything arousing at that particular moment.

The statue's face was soft and rounded, her eyes managed to somehow look both dreamy and piercing, and her lips were parted as if in pleasure. Her hair flowed around her and bounced in the wind, and it was also made of flowering vines that seemed to actually be growing out of the statue's head.

Her hair was intensely scarlet. Blaine was so fixated on the awesome beauty of the entire effect that it took him a few moments to realize that her hair was made entirely out of their flowers...well, but these looked a bit different. They were redder and more swollen with oil than the ones either he or Kurt had produced themselves.

Kurt was obviously not surprised by the statue, but he looked as awe-struck as Blaine felt. Kurt climbed down from the perch, gently pulling Blaine behind him, and they approached the statue.

She was at the top of a small hill, and they climbed a set of low stone steps to reach her. Before her was a bed of mosses and flower petals. Kurt knelt and Blaine mimicked the action.

Kurt repeated the word he had said earlier, and Blaine knew that he was referring to the figure represented in the statue. "She is Mother of All. The Sacred Whore. I always felt a special affinity for her, but I suppose...even more so now."

"Kurt..." Blaine said gently, squeezing his hand.

Kurt looked at Blaine briefly, knowing they would begin clawing one another's clothes off if he let his gaze linger too long. He smiled.

"No, Blaine, I don't mean...it doesn't have the same connotation amongst the Sidhe as it does amongst humans. Whores are amongst our most powerful and revered spiritual leaders. To be with one is an honor that few ever experience. I was referring to her story."

Blaine smiled encouragingly, also making sure not to look at Kurt for too long, even though his head was literally spinning at the notion of whores being revered spiritual leaders. It was so unlike anything he had ever heard before in absolutely any way.

"Legend tells that she came from another world," Kurt continued softly. "She was a slave there, used for the pleasure of men. She suffered for many, many years, slowly storing away bits of power in the prison where she slept. One day she finally overpowered her captors, and killed them all mercilessly." Kurt laughed shortly. "The original story is quite a bit more descriptive, but I think you've already seen what that kind of thing looks like."

Blaine laughed too. That he had.

"She found a doorway into another world, and slipped through. When she found herself in this world, she was alone and heavily pregnant in a barren, empty landscape. But even though the world was ugly and her situation was desperate, she was free. And she was so happy to be free that she began to pleasure herself. And her pleasure was so powerful that she began to birth all the beauty in the world. And then, when the world was full of streams and flowers and stars and sunsets, she began birthing all the elfin races. Humans, too, Blaine. You are one of us, you know."

Blaine gazed at the statue as Kurt told the story, amazed at how she almost seemed alive.

"And then," Kurt continued, "after a thousand years had passed, she began to mate with the Sidhe,and from those unions she birthed all of the other creatures of the world, and that is why we do not eat animals. Because they are our children."

"Well, yes, but the Sidhe are her children too, Kurt, and she...uh..."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's a story, Blaine. It isn't literal truth. Sidhe do not have sex with our own children."

Blaine blushed and laughed nervously. "No, I didn't think...I wasn't saying..."

"It is our very first and most sacred story, though. Most do not hold such an affinity for The Mother after childhood, however. I always have...I suppose it might be because I lost my own mother at such a young age. The Mother was always such a comfort to me. And now I think my affinity for her is even greater. After..."

Blaine pulled Kurt to him instinctively, to comfort him, momentarily forgetting about that something that seemed to permeate the area around the statue, making each of them feel like a living erogenous zone.

"Oh...I...I'm sorry..." Blaine stuttered, unsure of whether he should let Kurt go or keep drawing him closer.

Kurt took a deep breath. "We should...make our offering."

"Is it...a sexy offering?" Blaine asked tentatively.

Kurt laughed. "Very much so."

"Kurt, what is it that's...doing this to us?"

Kurt pointed to the vines trailing from The Mother's head. "Those vines have been growing there since that statue was built, which is many thousands of years. The flowers replenish when they are plucked, but the power in the vines..." Kurt shuddered.

"The vines emit...whatever that feeling is. And everyone who visits must give a gift of pleasure to The Sacred Whore, and some believe the offerings themselves strengthen the feeling as well." Kurt turned to Blaine then, and Blaine's breath caught at the intensity in his gaze.

"I've always wanted to come here with someone, Blaine."

"What – did you do when you came here on your own?" Blaine almost couldn't stand to ask the question, because he was fairly sure that he wouldn't survive the answer.

"I pleasured myself."

Blaine groaned and fell forward a bit, clutching at Kurt. The thought of Kurt lying on a bed of mosses at the foot of this statue, naked and touching himself, very nearly made Blaine pass out.

Kurt stood up and pulled Blaine with him, and then headed toward the steps, away from the statue. "Come on."

Blaine looked at him in horror.

"But..I thought we were going to..."

Kurt stepped back and looked at the ground, breathing heavily.

"Gods, Blaine, you sound so..." Kurt took a few more deep breaths. "We are. But we must start with the ritual bathing."

"I hate the ritual bathing," Blaine whined. "I don't care if we're dirty. I like it when we're dirty."

Kurt choked back what sounded like an actual sob. He bit his lip and headed down the stairs, too overcome with blind lust to respond to or even look at Blaine at all.

When they got to the creek, they were far enough from the statue that they were suffering decidely less. They freed the horses and climbed into the cool creek near a cluster of bushes covered in puffy white flowers. Kurt grabbed a handful of the flowers and rubbed them between his wet hands, creating something like a lather. He began to smooth it across Blaine's chest, and then his arms, lifting them and scrubbing thoroughly.

"These are the flowers that were in those Elfin soaps we got in S'aufa," Kurt said as he continued to wash Blaine. He looked into Blaine's eyes. "This ritual isn't meant to be taken lightly, Blaine. The Mother is only appeased by acts of beauty and love. Self-love or lovemaking. Just sex won't do."

Blaine smiled. "Then it's probably for the best that we never have just sex."

"Yes, well, that was why I was insisting we do this properly. It means a lot to me that we do."

"I know, Kurt," Blaine answered, kissing him softly and briefly. "Tell me what we're going to do."

"Well," Kurt said, sounding a bit breathless," "first we wash each other. Then we anoint each other with oil from another type of flower."

"You Sidhe and your flowers," chuckled Blaine.

Kurt smiled. "Then...then we make love at the base of the shrine."

"I think that's going to be my favorite part," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear.

"Blaine, I should warn you...those flowers on the shrine, they're extremely intense."

"Kurt, please stop talking about it while you're naked and wet and I can't do anything about it," Blaine groaned. "It's cruel."

Kurt smirked a bit as he lathered up some more blossoms and moved around Blaine to start washing his back. Blaine could feel the heat of Kurt's body, and once or twice he felt the brush of what had to be Kurt's erection. Blaine groaned again.

Because really, everything Kurt did or said was going to feel cruel until he was buried inside of Blaine.

After they had finished bathing, Kurt led Blaine back toward the shrine. They stopped at a flower-tree with a sunburst-yellow canopy. Coiled around the trunk (Blaine couldn't bring himself to think of it as merely a stem) was a vine bearing deep purple flowers that looked quite a bit like the red ones that aided in their lovemaking. Blaine asked if they were the same sort of flower.

"They're definitely related," Kurt said, shooing away a pixie. "But this one will help...keep things steady."

Kurt began first again, rubbing the oil into Blaine's skin, not skipping a single inch between his throat and his toes. This was considerably more torturous than the bathing, of course, because Kurt did give him several firm strokes, struggling not to simply continue when Blaine shuddered against him and made soft sounds of pleasure.

Blaine did notice that the oil had an effect, though. It didn't dull his senses, it simply made him feel more sensual overall. It didn't make his skin tingle like the red flowers did, but rather settled into his skin and made each of Kurt's touches feel deep and rich and like he could just keep melting into them forever and ever.

He understood what Kurt meant about this oil helping to keep things "steady." Blaine felt like he and Kurt could probably make slow, gentle love for hours and hours with this oil on their skin.

Kurt sighed into Blaine's touch when it was his turn to anoint Kurt with the oil. Blaine definitely noticed the difference in himself as he rubbed Kurt's silken skin and made it gleam. If he hadn't been rubbed into relaxation himself just moments before, he was fairly sure he would have come simply from running his hands across Kurt's body this close to the shrine.

When they finally found themselves at the foot of the statue, it was if they were in a shared altered state, the lust-inducing vines from the statue rolling through them in waves, deliciously tempered by the mellow, sensual contentment in their oiled bodies. Kurt stood on The Mother's foot and reached up to pluck a single plump red flower from one of the vines flowing from her head. When he turned around, Blaine was already spread out on the bed of mosses in front of the statue. Kurt's breath caught in his throat and he had to close his eyes for a moment so that his knees didn't buckle at the sight.

No matter what happened between them, and no matter what happened in Kurt's life, he would always have this. They would always have this.

Kurt lowered himself into the soft moss beside Blaine, and they finally allowed their eyes to not only meet but linger. Kurt touched Blaine's face with his fingertips, tracing the contours like he loved to do. Blaine sighed happily, but did not close his eyes like he normally did. He kept his eyes fixed on Kurt's.

Blaine began running his fingertips down Kurt's side, ghosting across his hip, dipping around to lightly trace the crease where his thigh began.

They continued stroking softly with fingertips, their eyes locked as if by some physical force, the torture of it hanging sweet and strong and timeless between them.

The change came when it became necessary to kiss. It was Blaine who surrendered to it first, and when he pressed his lips to Kurt's he felt it in waves throughout his entire body, and he groaned and pulled Kurt flush against him and opened his mouth. Their tongues slid together with such perfection that neither of them could imagine how they managed to live life without being connected like this all the time.

The kiss deepened impossibly, and neither of them seemed entirely aware that the hands on one another's bodies were becoming decidedly bolder and needier. Blaine held the back of Kurt's head with one hand and cupped his ass with the other, pulling Kurt against him closer, closer, closer, trying to find a way to create more contact between them.

And Kurt's hands were mirroring Blaine's, except that he had also allowed a finger to drift toward the heat of Blaine's entrance, and he began to softly stroke the puckered opening, making Blaine shake and clutch him tighter and moan into his mouth.

There was nothing sudden about the need. It built up slowly, achingly so, as each nerve ending was prodded from softly glowing warm coal to snapping, writhing ball of flame, as touches turned to licks and bites and suction, and rocking turned to grinding and thrusting, and when Kurt finally pulled away from Blaine and steadied his hands enough to unfurl the bright red flower, Blaine was whimpering and writhing and bucking his hips, unable to hold still even if he had wanted to, which he really didn't, because just moving, even without Kurt against him, relieved a small edge of the desperation boiling in his bloodstream.

Kurt dipped his fingers in the oil, gasping at the sensation, and stared at Blaine. Stared shamelessly as Blaine writhed, making tiny cries of need and watching Kurt like he was all that existed in the world.

"I love you," Kurt whispered. Blaine gazed up at him with unmasked adoration.

"I love you," he said, his voice a strained croak.

It was good that they said it then. Because when Kurt touched Blaine's opening with a single oil-slicked finger, it was instantly clear that words had become far too complex a concept to handle.

Kurt stroked slowly, and Blaine panted in short, harsh gasps, overwhelmed and almost unable to withstand the sheer magnitude of pleasure he was experiencing. Kurt slowly moved the finger inside of Blaine, and Blaine simply threw his head back and screamed, throwing his legs as wide open as he possibly could and arching into Kurt's touch.

Kurt worked him open slowly, and even though he was blazing with need, he was utterly fixated on the sight before him, the way Blaine was sobbing and squirming and muttering gibberish, his eyes rolled back in his head, his erection dripping onto his stomach.

When Kurt finally felt like he was going to go blind from the sheer magnitude of watching Blaine fall apart like this, he knelt between Blaine's legs, and slicked himself up, letting out a yell at the sensation of the oil on his member.

Kurt lifted Blaine slightly as he sunk into him, and Blaine screamed with joy at the sensation, wrapping his legs around Kurt's waist and gripping his shoulders tight.

When Kurt was buried deep inside of Blaine, he paused to simply gaze at him again, and Blaine's eyes met his, and when Kurt began to thrust, they didn't break eye contact.

Their gaze deepened as Kurt began to increase the force and speed of his movements, sliding hard and fast in and out of Blaine's body. He was hitting Blaine's sensitive spot over and over again, and as much as Blaine writhed and screamed beneath him, as much as Kurt moaned and yelled with each thrust, their eyes remained locked.

It was as if they could see into one another's very souls. It was as if the true depth of their connection was finally presented to them, unmasked and delicate yet somehow strong as steel. It would be so easy to break them, what they had, but on some essential level it was completely and utterly untouchable. There was simply no destructive force in the universe that could find its way to the true heart of their love and their bond, and it was utterly terrifying and yet neither one of them looked away.

Their eyes were naked and open and they let each other all the way in.

Neither of them knew when they had started crying, they just knew that they were.

They clutched each other tight, and Kurt was absolutely slamming into Blaine, and Blaine was rocking his hips hard to meet every thrust, to try and pull Kurt as far inside him as physically possible, because the intensity was so overwhelming that all they could do was try and express it with their bodies while they sobbed and convulsed and held each other's gaze through a blur of tears.

Kurt felt himself getting close, and so he grasped Blaine's cock with an oiled hand and stroked him hard and fast and they both screamed as Kurt snapped his hips and flicked his wrist three final times before Kurt was coming deep inside of Blaine and Blaine was coming all over both of them, and they both came so hard that they found themselves regaining consciousness several seconds later, lying in a tangled heap.

Words were not allowed. They both simply knew this. Anything they said right now would come out bittersweet. So instead they slowly kissed, for a long, long time, before allowing themselves to fall into a messy sleep.