Kurt then smiled and put his trunk at the foot of his bed, opened it and took out a fresh outfit and a towel. From his messenger back he took a toilettries bag.

“Est-ce que tu voulait prendre une douche ou puis-je?” Did you want to take a shower or may I?

Blaine hadn't moved from his spot in the middle of the room, his shirt still open. He hadn't understood a word Kurt said but he was kind of brain-dead from Kurt's laugh and him talking to him and saying his name. When Kurt's voice registered, standing with clear intentions of taking a shower, Blaine shook his head and pointed towards the bathroom in a clear invitation for him to go right ahead. With a final smile Kurt flounced towards the bathroom for his shower.

Blaine suddenly hoped that when he shook his head no he hadn't accidentaly turned down an invitation to join him in the shower.

Fuck English, Blaine needed to learn French.

After physically shaking himself out of his stupor, Blaine opened his suitcase and grabbed a pair of jeans, a dark grey Henley and a change of underwear before darting out of the room.

It was enough knowing that Kurt was a mere ten feet away getting undressed and ready for a shower, it was another thing entirely to just stand there and subject himself to having to listen to the running water and imagine Kurt in there.

Soapy... with water running all over his body... such a nice body.

Blaine groaned and headed down to Wes and David's room; he'd use their bathroom for his now cold shower.

Kurt was folding his pants neatly and setting them on the sink when it finally hit him. He had just had an almost normal interaction on his part with Blaine. Considering that said boy had been a rambling half-dressed wreck for his part of the interaction mattered very little to Kurt, because all this meant was that he was probably going to survive these next four months! He hadn't stuttered, blushed like a maniac and frozen on the spot after his little laugh-a-thon (he chose to carefully ignore the blushing and the freezing on the spot that had preceded it); he had simply talked to Blaine like a normal human being, teased him a little and gone on his merry way to the shower.

Yes, it might have been a little flirtatious but the world hadn't ended had it?

Blaine stood outside of his best friends' room, with his change of clothes in one hand and the other raised, poised to knock on the mahogany door. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was at an important intersection: knock and gain entrance to your friends' room, explain that there was a beautiful french boy in your shower, commandeer their shower and ease your sexual frustration with a quick and soapy hand or turn right back around, burst into his own shower and ease his sexual frustration with a soapy Kurt.

Kurt had flirted. Kurt was a flirt. Flirty Kurt had flirted before entering a bathroom and saying something in French that sounded entirely too inviting. Is it really so unlikely that he was asking for company? Lord knows if I had any guts I might have asked him for company in the shower. And it takes some serious guts to fly across the Atlantic in that outfit of his. Those pants are so tight it's freaking criminal.

Blaine still hadn't moved from his spot in front of Wes and David's door. His mind was torn in two and both minds were making a convincing argument.

Well let's be serious, if you have two heads and both are making convincing arguments, which head do you go for?

Blaine's hormone addled brain took that for a valid point and suddenly, Blaine wasn't standing in front of a door, but racing back to the one Kurt had vanished behind. He reached their room and Blaine shut the door with a swift kick, dropped his clothes on his bed and started stripping in the middle of the room. Not much to do but shuck off the already unbuttoned shirt, his Dalton slacks and boxers and kick off his shoes. Blaine was now completely naked and after debating whether or not to stand in front of the bathroom door to re-think his decision, Blaine quietly turned the doorknob and entered the bathroom.

Images were flooding Kurt's mind as he rinsed off the soap and conditioner; Blaine lying on his bed, touching himself all over with Kurt's gloves, flushed as red as he was when Kurt walked in, sweating and panting and speaking delicious words in Italian, none of which Kurt understood but his own name, being uttered between broken moans. And then it was Kurt's gloved hands touching Blaine, driving him slowly to the edge of pleasure. Blaine shot up his hands to touch Kurt as well and Kurt could almost feel his hands on his body.

But that was because Kurt had slowly begun stroking his chest and cock, lost in his sudden fantasies. He was snapped out of said fantasies however, when he heard the small clinking of the shower curtain rings sliding along the metal pole that held them up, followed by a choked off moan. He opened his eyes to see a very naked, very aroused looking Blaine in front of him.

Kurt kept moving his hands for a second, thanking his brain for providing him such high quality fantasies before realizing that this wasn't happening in his head; Blaine Anderson was climbing into the shower with him.

Oh god I slipped getting into the shower and died. And I was wrong about there being no heaven. This is too much to take in.

“Kurt, non hai idea di quanto--”

Kurt cut Blaine off with a wet finger pressed to those plump rosy lips. There was no need to talk, talking would break the spell, and if they didn't understand each other anyway, then why ruin it?

Blaine was about to say something again so Kurt figured the best way to get his message across was to take more drastic measures. Kurt grabbed a fistful of Blaine's now wet curls and brought his mouth crushing onto his own.

Kurt could feel Blaine freeze under his fingers for a few milliseconds in which Kurt allowed himself to doubt whether or not this had been a good plan before the younger boy melted into him, kissing back with such fervour and enthusiasm that Kurt felt his knees go slightly weak. When Blaine's hand reached up to cradle his jaw, Kurt was afraid they'd really give out on him.

Kurt felt like he was floating away, rising with the steam from the shower out the slightly cracked window and into the clouds, with nothing but this beautiful boy's hands and lips anchoring him to reality.

The reality that his first kiss was with a naked boy, in a shower, in a country across the ocean.

Oh crap I really did die didn't I?

And then Blaine swiped softly at his bottom lip in a move that felt so sensual, so good, so real, that Kurt knew that this was happening, this moment was going on outside of his head, and he was damned if he wasn't going to take advantage of this gift the fates had sent him.

Kurt opened his mouth and greeted Blaine's tongue with a soft sensuous swipe of his own, which caused Blaine to let out the single most erotic whimper Kurt had ever heard in his life. The soft sensuality then quickly gave way to a fight for power, fought with roaming lips, hot tongues and soft nips to lips and jaws and necks alike.

An indeterminable amount of time later, Kurt managed to shake himself from the hazy pleasurable fog that surrounded him and found himself pressed against the shower wall, the cold ceramic a delicious counterpoint to the hot chest pressed flush against his and the even hotter mouth latched onto the side of his neck, right at the juncture where neck meets shoulder. Kurt was shocked to find that the continuous stream of breathy moans and gasps were coming from between his own flushed and parted lips. He tried not to feel embarrassed about it but from the way Blaine kept groaning into his neck, maybe he didn't have a reason to. In any case Kurt figured the best way to muffle the embarrassing sounds coming from him was to have Blaine's lips pressed against him once more. Kurt pulled one of the hands that was wrapped around Blaine's slick shoulders up to his hair and tugged until the Italian's lips were once more welded to his own, a feeling that felt so familiar already that Kurt didn't know what he'd do with himself once this marvellous break from reality stopped and he'd have to face a world that didn't revolve entirely around strong shower heads, warm water and wet teenage boys. Kurt tried to fight down the despair building up in his throat at the thought; at this moment, Kurt felt like he needed this more than he needed the new McQueen scarf he'd seen in Vogue, more than he needed air, more than he needed anything at all. Kurt needed more.

The hand that was still thrown around Blaine's broad and built shoulders slid, slowly and purposefully, down Blaine's back, the water allowing for a smooth slide that had shivers running up the shorter boy's spine. Kurt's hand kept sliding until it rested firmly on Blaine's gorgeous ass and Blaine let out a broken moan that had Kurt's toes curling in pleasure.

“Kurt-”, Blaine gasped against his lips, “per piacere--”.

Even if Kurt couldn't guess what Blaine was trying to say, he could definitely understand what he was trying to communicate, what he was begging for in that desperate, needy, and entirely too sexy voice. Kurt grabbed a handful of Blaine roughly in his hand and pressed the boy forward until it has not just their chests but their whole bodies pressed flushed against one another, wet calves, thighs, and groins tumbling into each other with a wave of pleasure that had both boys moaning into the other's mouth. Their lips broke apart but Blaine brought their foreheads together and kept them panting onto the other's lips still. Kurt could feel Blaine's fingers digging into his back and shoulder, as though he were trying to hold himself together by clinging to him, so tightly that he would become one with the boy that was making him feel the most pleasure he had ever felt in his life. When Kurt shifted his hips to grind their erections together, Blaine considered it a miracle that he was still in one piece, because he felt like he was falling apart at the seams.

Kurt's eyes kept fluttering shut from the pleasure coursing through his body, although he fought it with everything he had, not wanting to miss out on a single instant of Blaine's flushed red face contorted in ecstasy, full wet lashes fanned out on over-heated cheeks, swollen lips parted and panting out wanton groans that sent shots of electricity straight to Kurt's cock.

Kurt's body had gone on automatic, and what he had once feared, this intimacy and this closeness, and sex, just came naturally, hips jerking and hands grabbing and lips roving as though they were meant to do this, had been dying to do this for seventeen years. Kurt's hand on Blaine's ass started kneading and massaging the pert globes beneath it and Blaine's eyes opened at the shock of it, a pleasurable moan escaping him when his dilated amber eyes were met by sea-coloured ones.

Blaine sounded positively wrecked. Kurt didn't know how he didn't come the second Blaine's lustful gaze locked on to his. Kurt jerked his hips faster, a frenetic pace being set and matched by the other boy, the need to come now building and building until it had both boys teetering right on the edge. Kurt untangled the hand that was still somehow buried in Blaine's locks and brought it down slowly, stroking Blaine's cheek and forehead and jaw. Kurt spoke for the first time since their encounter, a single word.

“Blaine--”

And then Blaine was coming with a wail, cock spurting come between his and Kurt's chest only to be washed away by the water spouting from the shower head. It was the sight of Blaine, brow furrowed, jaw slack, abs tensing, that pushed Kurt over the edge, coming with suck force that his knees gave out for real, and sent both boys tumbling into a tangled heap of limbs at the bottom of the tub. They lay there, panting, holding each other still, not wanting to let go of the moment, not moving and certainly not speaking, because sometimes even if you had the words your actions said more than enough.