***

“Hey Rachel. How are you feeling today? Bad hangover?” Kurt's voice was mild and overly sweet on the phone. 

He could hear her yawning before she replied. “Oh please. I didn't have that much to drink, Kurt. Only a couple.” 

“Oh really? So are you saying you weren't under the influence when you emailed a video of me to Carmen Tibideaux?” 

Rachel was quiet for a minute. Kurt waited. 

Finally, he heard her say softly, “Oh shit.” 

Sighing, Kurt spoke slowly and clearly. “Come on, Rachel, I need an answer. Were you drunk or sober when you emailed a video of me performing ‘Not The Boy Next Door' to the director of NYADA?”

“It was a great performance, Kurt! Everyone on the karaoke bar was cheering for you.” Rachel said quickly.

“Rachel Barbra Berry, you know perfectly well that I was performing that song, in that way, for the eyes of one particular person, and it damn well wasn't Carmen Fucking Tibideaux!” 

Rachel giggled. “Maybe not, but it was still an amazing performance.” 

Kurt sighed, shaking his head. He hadn't seen the video, but could picture it. He had dressed that night in his tightest jeans, with the knee-high lace up Doc Martins, and a fitted dress shirt. It was an outfit suited to the bar or a club, but not that shocking in itself. 

He had had a couple drinks for courage beforehand, and had stepped onto that stage with one intention only. To seduce his boyfriend. That whole performance had been packed full of steamy looks, hip thrusts, gyrations and high kicks. He had worked that stage, owned it. The crowd had cheered wildly. Blaine had just stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. 

To think of that performance being viewed by Carmen Tibideaux, when the last time she'd seen him was years before as a chubby Phantom of the Opera, was just too mortifying to even consider.

Rachel cleared her throat. “So, how did you know that I emailed her, anyways?”

Shaking his head, Kurt let out a large huff. “Because she fucking emailed me, Rachel. Complimented me on the performance. Said as it was a bold choice and that Hugh Jackman would be impressed by it as she was.”

Rachel squealed. Actually squealed. “Oh my god! That is so awesome! What else did she say?”

“That she was impressed by my development, and that I should schedule a meeting with her soon.” Kurt's voice got softer, saying those words. It was still so fucking shocking. When he'd seen the email from NYADA, he'd thought it was a joke at first. 

“Oh Kurt, you totally have to go meet with her!” Kurt knew if he could see her, she was probably jumping around all over her apartment in excitement. 

Kurt shook his head. Between Blaine and Rachel's actions with their respective alma mater, it looked like there may be interest from both schools in his voice. But did he actually want to pursue it? It wouldn't hurt to meet with Carmen, and see what she had to say. But there was no doubt it was as flattering as hell to receive the attention from such a respected woman, a balm against her earlier rejection of him. And that was a very impromptu performance. And he hadn't worked on his singing for years. What could he do with training? 

“I'll think about it, Rachel. Please send me a copy of the email you sent her, so I know what she saw, OK?” 

“Sure, sure… no problem, Kurt.” She giggled again. “So, we know Carmen liked your performance. And how did Blaine like it?” There was a definite teasing quality to her question.

Kurt smiled. “He liked it fine. Said I looked great and sang so well.” 

“Kuuuuuuuuurt! You know what I want to know!! Did you get some?” Rachel begged.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt sighed. “No, he walked me home and was a perfect gentleman. Wouldn't even come up for a slice of cake.” 

“I still think you should go with pretending to being sick. If you called him, sounding all weak and pathetic and asked him for help, he'd be over to your place in a minute. And then you could answer the door, in only underwear and a silky kimono, and get him to spread vapo-rub all over your chest…” 

“I'm not going to vapo-rape my boyfriend, Rachel!” Kurt admonished his friend, as she giggled. “And I don't want your interference on this, Rachel. You meddle in my life too much as it is. I still can't believe you got drunk and emailed Carmen Tibideaux.”

“I wasn't drunk!” Rachel protested.

Kurt huffed. “Do you remember singing ‘Ironic' by Alanis Morissette?”

“Yes. I rocked it soooooo good!” 

“Rach, you were so drunk you sang the line as ‘Its a death row hard-on, two minutes too late'” Kurt drawled, smirking.

“But that's the line!” Rachel objected.

Kurt chuckled. “Really, all these years and you thought she was singing about erections?”

“What? …I just pictured some prisoner, trying to have some solo fun before going to the chair, and not being able to get it up. And then he sprouts some wood after the fact, when he can't enjoy it. Ironic, don't ‘cha think?” 

“The line is ‘death row pardon', Rach. Go google it. Anyways, I gotta go.” Kurt was still laughing as he hung up. 

***

Kurt sighed as he looked over his wardrobe. In the past few months, he's gotten rid of all the larger sized pieces and there wasn't anything he couldn't fit into now. Plus, he'd been enjoying shopping so much, exploring all over New York for interesting pieces and great deals, often with Lucy in tow to give her expert opinions. 

Tonight, they were going to the Opera at The Met, thanks to tickets from Blaine's prof. He needed something on the formal side, but still sexy. Hmmmmmmm…..

The Tom Ford suit? It always made his legs look really long. Or maybe some nice dress pants with a vest, and perhaps an ascot? That would show off his ass and his slim torso… 

But really, was there any point to worrying about how he looked? Blaine seemed immune to whatever Kurt was wearing. He'd get an appreciative glance, and maybe a quick compliment, like “Don't you look nice!”, and that would be it. The dates he'd really made an effort didn't result in any difference than the dates where he hadn't. Every bloody date ended with a few quick goodnight kisses, and maybe a hug. That was it. Every bloody time.

And it was as frustrating as hell.

But mostly, Kurt was just frustrated. Sexually frustrated. Like he'd never experienced in his whole life. To think that a year ago he was questioning if he was sexual at all. 

The past month had been amazing though. Blaine was simply incredible. So attentive, thoughtful, funny, attractive… Kurt had a goofy smile on his face just thinking about him. And funny or sweet texts during the day kept that silly smile on Kurt's face. Lucy had started making heavy-handed remarks about becoming diabetic being around them, because they were so fucking sweet. 

Being back in school and working less, Blaine didn't have much money to take Kurt out on expensive dates, but somehow that made it even more amazing for the amount of time, effort and thought he put into them instead. They had gone walking hand in hand along the art galleries in Chelsea, visited the museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology, gone for a picnic at the Socrates Sculpture park, and drank a little too much at a brewery tour in Brooklyn. Joking, talking, cuddling together. He felt so connected with Blaine, so special. 

It had all been amazing… but…Blaine never had them alone. Never in his apartment or Kurt's. Always out in public or with friends. It was like having a constant chaperone. And even when they were somewhere like a movie theatre, Blaine behaved, simply holding Kurt's hand or cuddling. If Kurt went a little past Blaine's comfort zone, like kissing his neck instead of just cuddling against it, Blaine would just shift away, putting a little distance between them and simply holding Kurt's hand. 

Kurt had tried everything. Dressing in tight clothes, like pants so tight they took lying down on the bed to wiggle into them, holding his breath in. He'd tried touching Blaine, like little touches along his arm or leg. But Blaine would silently remove Kurt's hand with a little smile. Kurt even tried bringing attention to his mouth, by doing things like tapping a pen against his lips, or licking dessert off of his spoon slowly. Things like that would get a quick glance, and then Blaine would look away. 

Blaine was always holding his hand, or had his arm around Kurt's waist, pulling him close to his side. And every date ended with those light, little goodbye kisses and a hug. 

It was all so fucking PG that it made Kurt want to scream.

***

Kurt sighed with contentment as Blaine draped his arm over Kurts shoulders, tucking him against his side. Tilting his head down, Kurts head was against his shoulder, inhaling Blaines spicy cologne. He was tempted, so tempted, to tip his face up to kiss along Blaines neck, but he knew if he did, Blaine would sit up straighter, shifting away. And Kurt preferred to be in their current position than just stuck holding hands all night. 

They had just had a lovely meal out, and Kurt was feeling mellow after the two glasses of wine. It was so good to sit in comfortable silence, just happy being together, waiting for the performance to start. 

"Kurt?" A voice nearby pulled him out of his relaxed state, and he sat up, looking to the side. 

"Oh, Mason." Kurt gave a small smile to the elegantly dressed man standing beside him. "I suppose it was only a matter of time until I ran into you here. You are at The Met so often!"

Mason nodded, his dark eyes scanning over Kurt appreciatively. 

Blaine shifted on the seat beside Kurt, and he twisted back to look at him. "Um, Blaine, I dont think youve met my friend Mason Blackford. Mason, this is my boyfriend Blaine Anderson."

Standing up, Blaine held out his hand towards Mason and they eyed each other levelly as they shook hands. Blaine nodded and sat back down. 

"Boyfriend! Last I heard Blaine was your personal trainer and Warren was your boyfriend." Mason teased Kurt with a mischievous look. 

Kurt shrugged. "I havent seen you for awhile, Mason. Things change."

Undoing the button on his suit jacket, Mason sat down in the chair next to Kurts. 

Kurt was surprised, but schooled his face to show no reaction. Oh great. What were the chances that his ex-boyfriend had the seat next to his at The Met? 

A couple minutes later, Mason stood up as an older woman sat down beside him. Mason introduced her as his paralegal to Kurt and Blaine. They made small talk, although Blaine was mostly silent. 

Mason leaned closer, speaking softly to Kurt. "So, have you seen Verdis Otello before?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, but I did see a ballet version of the story about two years ago. Lots of amazing male dancers in it.”

The lights were dimming and the incredible chandeliers were being drawn up to the ceiling. Kurt leaned back towards Blaine, settling into his seat, and grabbing hold of his hand. 

But Blaine did not sink into Kurt like he normally would. He seemed a little more tense than normal. Kurt glanced up at his face, but Blaine just gave him a small smile and leaned over to give him a light kiss. 

The performance was intense and wonderful, so passionate. But Kurt couldnt relax and enjoy it, since he could sense that Blaine wasnt engaged in it. He was shifting in his seat, his grasp on Kurts hand a little tighter than normal. 

On his other side, Kurt had an awareness of Mason being right beside him, his tall body filling the theatre chair, his leg so close to Kurts. Kurt shifted in his seat to be closer to Blaine than he was to Mason, but he still felt strangely aware of him. Part of what made Mason such a good lawyer was that he had a presence, a certain charisma. A jury felt it across a courtroom. Kurt felt the full brunt of it sitting so close to him. 

When the curtain came down for intermission, Blaine jumped to his feet, hauling Kurt up with him. "Lets get a drink, OK?" 

Before Kurt could respond, Blaine was pulling him down the row towards the exit. Kurt nodded back at Mason as they left, not having a chance to make their excuses. 

In the lobby, Blaine seemed to unwind a little, his shoulders coming down as he took a couple deep breaths. But there was still this tension in him, and Kurt looked over at him questionly as they stood in line for the bar. 

Blaine let out a big sigh, and turned to Kurt. "Um, Kurt, would you mind if we just left now? I really not in the mood for opera tonight."

Kurts eyes widened, but he nodded. "OK, I guess we dont have to go back to get anything from our seats. But we should tell Mason we are leaving, just to be polite."

Blaine huffed and grabbed Kurts hand, tugging on it as he moved fast towards the exit. "Just text him from the cab."

Blaines sour mood didnt seem to lift as the taxi headed towards Kurts apartment. Kurt grabbed his phone, texting Mason that Blaine had a headache so they were heading home. 

Mason responded fast:
Oh, is that what you call it when you leave at intermission to go boink?

Kurt scoffed at the message, and then looked up from his phone to see Blaine watching him closely in the dim light of the cab, his expression hard to read. 

At Kurts apartment, Blaine jumped out with him, paying the taxi driver. "Ill walk you to your door." Blaine said stiffly, when Kurt looked at him in surprise. Usually, Blaine asked the taxi driver to wait while he got out to give Kurt a few light goodbye kisses, before jumping back into the vehicle.

It felt very strange to be entering his apartment building with Blaine's hand on the small of his back. Blaine had never been in the building before, always ending their dates with goodbye kisses out front. Tonight, he was right at Kurt's side as he pushed the up button for the elevator, and Kurt couldn't help but remember the last time he'd ridden in an elevator with Blaine. 

It was only a quick ride up ten floors, but with Blaine standing close to Kurt, filled with a quiet intensity, it felt like time was in slow motion. 

The elevator finally stopped, and they were at Kurt's door in a blink of an eye. He fumbled with his key, pushing the door open, and then turned to face Blaine.

“Ah, thanks for walking me up here, Bl-“ Kurt got out, before Blaine's mouth was on his, hard and insistent, and Blaine was backing Kurt into the apartment, slamming the door behind them. 

Kurt gasped in surprise as he bumped against the wall of the hallway, Blaine crowding against him, pushing a leg between Kurt's as he kissed down Kurt's neck. Moaning, Kurt tilted his head to the side to give Blaine better access, as his hand came up to fist into Blaine thick hair. To feel Blaine's strong, muscular body press up so tightly against his made Kurt's head swim, and he could only groan as Blaine pressed even closer. 

“Kurt,” Blaine gasped, kissing and then rubbing his whisker-roughened cheek over the delicate skin of his neck, making Kurt shudder in response. “I'm sorry, baby…. I just need you so bad.” His voice was a low, scratchy growl, and Kurt shoved a hand under Blaine's suit jacket to grab at his lower back to pull him closer, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin material of his dress shirt.

His breath fast and erratic, Kurt turned his face to push his lips against Blaine's cheekbone. “Oh, yes… Blaine. I want you too…. So much.” He pushed his hips closer, grinding his hardness against Blaine's hip.

“Oh, fuck… Kurt.” Blaine moaned at the sensation. “Bedroom… please… I need to be naked with you.” 

Kurt lifted his face to Blaine's, catching his heated gaze, and then grabbed his hand. With wobbly legs, he pulled Blaine down the short hallway and into the dark bedroom. Blaine was spinning Kurt towards him, eager hands pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders to fall to the floor as Kurt raised his shaking fingers to undo Blaine's tie and then work on the buttons of his shirt. 

Finally, Kurt was pulling the bedcovers back and they were naked together, skin against skin, Blaine's mouth on Kurt's. Kurt couldn't resist running his hands from Blaine's shoulders and down to his hips, loving the feel of his muscular back and warm skin. His fingers were digging into those hips, and Kurt arched off the bed to press his hard cock against Blaine, aching and needing the friction. 

Blaine was biting at the base of Kurt's neck, groaning as he followed Kurt's actions, shifting until his erection was right against Kurt's. They pushed together; finding a rhythm, knowing it wasn't going to take much. Kurt's senses were so overloaded, his hands now cupping Blaine's ass to pull him closer as he licked and sucked on the skin below Blaine's ear, his breath coming in little pants. 

“Yes, yes…” Kurt moaned as he got close, arching his hips off the bed to press harder, his thrusts quick, until he tensed, shuddering against Blaine. Blaine only took a few more pushes, so aroused by Kurt's orgasm, before he reached his peak. 

Shifting to his side, Blaine was still breathing heavy as he looked over at Kurt. The bedroom was only lit by the city lights and moonlight, but it was enough to see his mussed hair and relaxed smile. He leaned over and gave Kurt a light kiss.

Shaking his head, Blaine let out a laugh. “This is not at all how I intended this to happen, Kurt.” 

Kurt smiled his little closed mouth smile, and his eyes shone with happiness. “Oh? What did you have in mind?” He ran a hand lightly up Blaine's arm, loving the ability to touch his bare, warm skin. 

Rolling onto his back, Blaine reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a bunch of tissues and passed some to Kurt. They chuckled as they cleaned up and then Kurt took the tissues from Blaine to drop in the garbage bin by the bed.

Stretching his arms above his head, Blaine looked at the ceiling for a minute before looking back at Kurt. “I was thinking of taking you away for the weekend, to a little bed and breakfast. Having a romantic meal, and then slowly stripping you, with lots of kisses, exploring your body thoroughly, and then making slow sweet love to you.” 

Reaching down, Kurt pulled the bedcovers over them, and snuggled against Blaine's side, resting his head on his shoulder. His hand played over Blaine's chest hair lightly. “Hmmmmm….. that sounds very nice, very romantic, Blaine. We should definitely do that sometime. But I think it's kinda hot the way it did happen.” 

Blaine looked down at Kurt's face, trying to read his expression, his eyebrow arched. He scoffed. “Kurt, I was like an animal, all over you. No finesse, just base sexual need. Practically dragging you into the bedroom. It's going to be hard to look you in the eye tomorrow.” 

Kurt laughed. “Do I look like I'm complaining?” Pushing up, he swung a leg over Blaine's hip, and leaned down to kiss Blaine lightly on the lips. Nuzzling his face against Blaine's neck, he kissed at his slightly damp skin and lowered his chest to press against Blaine's, loving the contact. “It reminded me of that amazing kiss at the Empire State Building. I love it all frantic and hot like that.” 

Blaine's hands had been running up and down Kurt's back, but they froze in place with that comment. “What?” Blaine pushed at Kurt's upper arms, urging him to sit up enough to look at his face. Blaine's eyes were searching Kurts, his expression so confused. “But you just walked away, Kurt. You didn't say anything. You just left me there.” 

Kurt's eyes widened, and he moved off Blaine, sitting cross-legged on the bed and wrapping the sheet around his body, making sure Blaine was covered too. He had suddenly just felt too naked, too exposed. “Um, I think we better talk about that, Blaine. The whole thing was a bit confusing to me, at the time, and it still is, frankly.” 

***

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Yeah, I'm being awful and leaving you there. This is already such a long chapter. (I'm so evil! But at least I gave you a bit of smut, finally.) Comments very welcome.... :D

I'll be updating soon, promise.

-Lincoln Centre: The Metropolitan Opera House is in the centre. A clip from Oscar-winning 1987 movie Moonstruck, with Cher and Nicholas Cage going to La Boheme is here.