A/N: … >///< I was so planning for this to be my first smutty Klaine fic (had the whole idea planned out….sorta), but the fluffy-smexy times took over.
Anyhoo, this was a random idea (as all my fic ideas are) that wouldn’t leave my head. At first, it seemed kinda awkward to do a kink fic (I have no personal experience, thank you very much), but I somehow made it work.
Warning: Rated M for sexual implications and partial (not really) smut, some language but who cares
Inspiration: Fashion Kink (if you can’t figure it out, read the title….here’s a dollar, buy a clue... (darn inflation, can’t get anything for a quarter nowadays)
Disclaimer: ….If I owned Glee, I would have had some serious Klaine action happening already instead of waiting till Nov 8. Nuff said. But since we all have to wait, I guess that means Glee ain’t mine.
…Darn it.
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It had started out as such a small thing.

A tiny, practically insignificant thing.

A little thing that Kurt normally would’ve ignored if he hadn’t known his boyfriend as well as he did. A narrowing of the eyes here, the little-too-long look there, that subtle fixation Blaine would get whenever a certain something popped up in their hectic, New York days.

Honestly, Kurt thought he had figured out all of Blaine kinks by now, what with four and a half years of dating and four years of being intimate.

I guess not.

It had all started over a relaxing Project Runway marathon to celebrate the end of midterms. Kurt and Blaine had been working their asses off in preparation of their Junior year midterms, what with Kurt majoring in Theatre and Fashion while Blaine dealt with Music with a minor in Law. As soon as the last bell had rung and the last exam turned in, all Kurt and Blaine wanted to do was trudge back to their very modest apartment, collapse on the couch with some take-out (Kurt, for once, saying to hell with his complexion), and laugh at the misguided attempts at proper runway etiquette and outrageous fashion choices.

The night was going very well, all things considered. After tucking into their chow mein and egg rolls, the two young men ended up cuddled together on the old, faded couch, the TV on the Oxygen channel as model after wannabe-model duked it out on a catwalk as bitchy judges commented on every single thing they did wrong.

The episode had progressed to the cocktail dress and evening gown portion when Kurt noticed it.

He was just about to lean over to Blaine’s ear with a scathing opinion about how one girl should never have been put in bright canary yellow while having platinum blonde hair and bright red patent pumps, when he looked over to see Blaine focused intently on the screen.

Now, considering that they were both avid fans of the show should have explained the whole look, the look meaning that Blaine was enjoying the program just as much as he was. Kurt should have just shrugged off the whole, insignificant thing and just opened his mouth to say what he was going to say, knowing that Blaine would wholeheartedly agree and they could snicker at the horrible taste together.

But as soon as Kurt got a good look at Blaine’s face, he knew he couldn’t let it go.

Blaine’s eyes had gone dark, and not the focused forest green-hazel Kurt had come to know and love whenever Blaine got really into his schoolwork or whenever he found the spare time and inspiration to write another original song, nor the happy golden-honey color that usually popped up whenever the man was indulging his inner child with yet another Disney marathon while begging Kurt to sing along with The Little Mermaid with him.

No, this was a completely different kind of dark, a lustful kind of dark cinnamon. The kind of dark cinnamon that Blaine only reserved for Kurt on those special nights they had no early morning classes, homework, or tests to worry about, the nights that they could get totally lost in each other and their hormones, the sheer need that couldn’t be suppressed anymore until a good three to four hours had been dedicated to its resolution.

Seeing that kind of look on Blaine’s face, not directed at him but at the tall, lithe, primped out models on TV, made something inside Kurt squirm. And not in the good way.

Darting his eyes back to the models, seeing their mile-long legs made even longer with ridiculously tall stilettos, their trim, nearly anorexic, bodies all dolled up in some outlandish fashion creation, and their perfect pale faces completely blanked of emotion, Kurt felt a small sliver of jealously invade his mind. Of course, he knew that Blaine was gay, 100% at last count thanks to Rachel all those years ago, but for some reason Kurt couldn’t let go of the thought that Blaine found these women attractive.

What do they have that I don’t have….besides boobs and a uterus, which thanks, but no thanks, Kurt thought. He couldn’t stop these feelings as they came to the surface, wondering how Blaine saw him in relation to the girls on TV. Obviously he couldn’t just come out and ask Blaine about it. That would look childish and paranoid! How would Kurt be able to look Blaine in the face again, knowing that his boyfriend would think he was so insecure that a stupid reality show could make him jealous and self-conscious?

Absolutely not. Kurt wasn’t going to admit it. No way.

Kurt was knee-deep in his reverie when he felt Blaine’s arm tighten around his waist. Pulling his eyes back to Blaine’s, he noticed that same rich cinnamon focused right back at him. Feeling his mouth run dry at the intensity, Kurt lost his previous train of thought as Blaine all but pounced on him. As Blaine’s hot mouth trailed over his pale neck, wringing desperate whimpers and high-pitched whines from his sensitive throat, Kurt forgot all about his insecurities and questions.

Later, much later, after plenty of heavy petting with a side of good old-fashioned passionate sex, Kurt would vaguely remember how Blaine had watched those models on television, and what that meant exactly.

But those thoughts would fly out the window once again when Blaine rolled him over, whispering how much he loved him and how devastatingly beautiful he thought Kurt was as they commenced round two.

The subject didn’t come up again until two weeks later.

Once again, Kurt and Blaine were parked on the couch as they celebrated a brief break from their schoolwork. Fall break was in full swing for the college, but without enough money to fly back to Ohio to visit family or go anywhere for a weekend getaway before Thanksgiving, Kurt and Blaine thought it was more cost efficient to just have a “stay-cation” and enjoy the peace and quiet that came with most of their classmates being out of town.

The hour was late, the steadily rising darkness seeping in under their bargain curtains as the streetlamps lit up one by one down their avenue. The flickering of the TV kept most of the shadows away, barring the small lamp that took up residence on their battered, secondhand end table. Tucked under one of their bed blankets, Kurt and Blaine were engrossed in a fascinating documentary about high-end courtesans. Channel-surfing ten minutes before had landed on a predominantly news related channel that was having a two hour special on big city “ladies of the night.”

Hearing another testimonial from a working courtesan, identity protected of course, Kurt couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.

“I can’t believe these women would sell themselves like this. I’m not denying that they get plenty of perks, but gold-plated prostitution? How can they look at themselves after each job?” Blaine nodded absently in agreement.

“Well, for some people, this is the only path they have left. Whether they’re in a higher class than others just changes how they see their situation.” Kurt snorted, whipping his hand towards the screen.

“Blaine, they’ve gone to college and gotten degrees to amplify their retail value! That one girl has a mini-doctorate in anthropology, but she’s sleeping with a different CEO each night! How can that even compare to those poor girls out on the Lower East side? Those women have literally no choice left, but these girls have enough income to go to graduate school, and they still sell themselves!”

“I know that, babe. But still, for some women this is the only trade that offers some security. You know how the economy is nowadays. It seems the only job market that’s not affected so negatively is prostitution, tax bracket be damned.” Blaine rubbed Kurt’s shoulders, hoping to dissolve some of Kurt’s tension. Kurt just sighed.

He remembered quite keenly how he once couldn’t be in the same room as something remotely sexual like this show before running back to his room, his ears securely plugged and singing to drown out the sound of imaginary crying mothers. Now, here he was, settled almost on his boyfriend’s lap, watching as woman after shadowed woman proclaimed the pros and cons of becoming a glorified “Pretty Woman” imitator and what they reaped from it all. And yet, Kurt still couldn’t throw off that last shred of embarrassment. He couldn’t imagine what life must have been like to have found oneself in that kind of position, to sell your body to a different stranger every other night and still keep sane over the severe lack of modesty and possible self-respect.

Now, he wouldn’t deny that there are times that people will do anything to survive. The self-preservation instinct was way too strong. And, of course, he didn’t blame the Lower East End girls for just trying to make it through one more day and keep food on the table, but still, the situation didn’t sit right with him. Shaking his head, Kurt decided on getting a drink while he had the chance.

Wriggling out of Blaine’s grasp, he flicked over the edge of the blanket and stood up. Stretching to rid his back of its kinks, he turned to look at Blaine.

“I’m getting a Diet Coke. Want anything?” Blaine thought for a moment, before deciding.

“Eh, I’ll take one, too. Thanks.” Smiling warmly, Kurt pecked Blaine on the lips before strolling out of the small living room into the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge door, Kurt plucked two silver cans from the shelf. Setting them on the counter, Kurt pulled open one of the cabinets to grab one glass.

Kurt didn’t fully understand Blaine’s need to always drink from a glass when the can could work just as well, but he respected his boyfriend’s preferences just like Blaine respected Kurt’s need to moisturize for one hour every night, no exceptions…except for sex, then his routine could wait.

Pulling open one tab and pouring the can contents into the glass, Kurt’s mind absently traveled over the documentary. Chucking the empty can into their nearly full trash can, and making a mental note to ask Blaine to take it out tomorrow if possible, Kurt turned to walk back into the living room. He had almost set his foot onto the dingy, beige carpet when he noticed a certain look once more on Blaine’s face.

It was the same face as when he looked at the models on Project Runway.

Darting a glance to the screen, Kurt was met with the image of a seemingly extraordinarily attractive woman, her top half almost completely hidden in the dark, but her waist down exposed to the camera. She was wearing a flattering pencil skirt over curvaceous hips, a deep black to amplify the cherry red satin of her perfectly fitted top, with her long, stocking clad legs crossed daintily, the black patent peep toe heels catching the studio lighting behind the camera.
As the woman talked, her well-manicured hands would move every so often, her legs twitching or adjusting whenever she spilled another juicy detail about a rendezvous she had not too long ago. The shiny leather shoes nearly constantly flashed in the camera’s view, the only time when it didn’t being when the show switched to a dramatization of whatever the woman was describing.

Glancing back to Blaine, he saw that his boyfriend still had that look. Even from the odd angle between the kitchen door and the couch, Kurt could still see the burning nutmeg color coming out of Blaine’s eye sockets. Feeling that same cringe-worthy squirming in his gut, Kurt decided to nip it in the bud by somewhat loudly trouncing back into the living room and plopping down next to Blaine.

“Here ya go, babe.” Kurt said as he handed over the nearly full glass, inwardly triumphant when Blaine easily turned his eyes away from the screen to look at him. But seeing those darkened orbs once again, stole Kurt’s ability to speak. Blushing at how easily Blaine could affect him, Kurt tucked into his own drink and looked back to the TV. He could still feel those burning eyes as they drilled into the back of his head, but Kurt resolutely didn’t turn back. He wasn’t going to be derailed from his train of thought a second time.

…Of course, that’s what Kurt had thought before Blaine started kissing up the back of his neck a few minutes later, nipping at the juncture of his throat and shoulder. Gasping when Blaine wrenched his old, oversized jersey down to expose a porcelain deltoid, Kurt’s mind fogged over as his boyfriend worked, quite determinedly he might add, to place a large love-bite to the tempting flesh. However, as soon as one was made, another had to follow suit, until Kurt was shirtless and pressed into the couch, Blaine taking his time to map out every muscle, dip, and curve his boyfriend possessed.

Two hours later, with the television on some muted channel that Kurt couldn’t remember turning it to, the naked countertenor was laying on the couch with a just-as-naked Blaine nestled between his side and the back cushions, dead to the world asleep. Looking down at the man beside him, Kurt felt his earlier confusion start to come back with the fading haze of post-coital endorphins.

Kurt still couldn’t figure out how the hell he got to this point.

One moment, he’s worrying about Blaine not being attracted to him anymore because of the way he was looking at that woman on the TV, and the next moment, a frenzied Blaine’s pounding him into the couch, muttering over and over how much he adored Kurt and how hot he thought he was, those same hazel eyes blazing with their honesty and pure lust.

Honestly, Kurt had no clue what was going on anymore.

Thinking back on the evening as he ran his fingers through the other man’s riotous, sex curls, Kurt carefully mapped out everything he had observed. They were both watching the same show, so whatever Blaine saw, Kurt did to. Pulling back the image of the woman, Kurt analyzed everything he could remember.
It couldn’t have been the clothes she was wearing since Blaine never hesitated to tell Kurt how adorable or sexy he was whenever he puttered around the apartment in sweats, his own original creations, or in one of Blaine’s button-up shirts and nothing else, so that option was out.

It couldn’t have been her voice either since Blaine never stopped mentioning throughout their relationship how much he preferred hearing Kurt talk and sing, especially in French, but that was for private. Besides, the show changed a lot of the girls’ voices just in case, that one woman being no exception.
And it most certainly couldn’t have been the woman’s face or features since the documentary was fastidious about keeping every girl’s face in the dark to keep their identities secret, never once allowing their faces to be seen or to use their real names.

The only other detail that Kurt could bring up was the woman’s distracting patent leather shoes and how they had flashed so brightly in the camera’s lights.
Following that thought thread, Kurt recollected the last time this happened during Project Runway. Remembering how he was going to tell Blaine about the color mismatch of that one girl’s ensemble, Kurt saw in his mind’s eye that same girl wearing flashy red high heels, roughly the same height as the pair the courtesan was wearing.

Making the semi-reasonable jump in logic, Kurt’s sky blue eyes widened in realization.

Both times that Blaine jumped him like no tomorrow, he was watching a woman in high heels minutes before! It was the only thing that made sense of both situations. Blaine had been watching a woman wearing high heels with such intent and arousal, and then ravished Kurt within an inch of his life each time.

…Okay…That’s certainly something to think about.

Shaking his head slightly, Kurt pulled Blaine a little bit closer and closed his eyes, intent on getting some sleep and not letting this very unexpected surprise keep him up. He’d deal with it later.

But the last thing Kurt thought of before he went to sleep was what would happen if Blaine saw him in a pair of heels?

Hmm…..

The next few days left Kurt with that constant thought buried in the back of his mind.

Kurt would find himself thinking about it at random times throughout his day. When he was folding laundry, organizing his notes for his classes, even brushing his teeth! He couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if Blaine were to see him in a pair heels, high or otherwise. Now, surely he had worn a pair of heels at some point in front of Blaine, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember any exact dates nor what had happened when he did.

It was roughly four in the afternoon while Blaine was out picking up some milk and bread that Kurt couldn’t take it anymore. If the only way to stop the circular thoughts running around in his head was to actually wear a pair of heels and observe what happens, then by Gaga, he’ll do it!

After settling on an overall plan, Kurt then had to come up with a plausible reason why he would do it. Just pulling on a random pair of heeled boots he had in the closet and strutting about their abode for no apparent reason at all would look far too suspicious to Blaine of his otherwise fashion conscious lover.

Pulling his wits together, Kurt decided on approaching Blaine with an activity for the next day, a walk in the neighboring park perhaps. Since the weather was a tad chilly and leather was in again, Kurt would have no problems with pulling an outfit with some fashionable heels to match. Then all he would have to do would be to watch how Blaine responded to certain movements involving his feet.

Simple!

Now, all he had to do was decide on the perfect outfit for seducing his boyfriend…

Shit.

When Blaine walked through the door, juggling the half gallon of milk and making sure not to crush the bread, Kurt had his plan all worked out. It had taken some time and a lot of second-guessing himself, but he had narrowed down his outfit and came up with the perfect back story for his proposal. All he had to do now was casually bring it up in conversation. As he watched Blaine pad into the living room after putting up the groceries and flop onto the couch next to him, Kurt saw the perfect opportunity.

“Hey, babe, what do you think about doing something tomorrow? I know you don’t like to be cooped up so long, so I thought maybe we could take a walk in the park tomorrow afternoon.” Kurt’s tone sounded soothing and hopeful, the perfect mix of optimistic and casual. Seeing Blaine’s ears perk, much like an eager puppy’s, told him his plan had worked.

“Really? That sounds great. But what about the weather? I know how much you hate it when the forces of Nature try to mess up your hair.” Blaine teased, his smile warm and mischievous. Kurt playfully slapped his shoulder.

“I already checked. The Weather Channel says it’ll be a great day for a relaxing walk. We’ll get to enjoy the turning of the leaves without sacrificing my hair.” Kurt hummed, stringing his hands through Blaine’s dark curls, smirking at the pleased groan that came out of his mouth.

“Not that I don’t love the suggestion, but what brought this on?” Kurt froze for just a moment, much too quickly for Blaine to notice, when he caught himself.

“I’ve just noticed how stressed you’ve been lately, and I want to help you feel better. I remember how the last walk we had was over a month ago before our midterms started. I think it’s time for another, don’t you agree?”

Blaine hummed happily as he leaned into Kurt’s shoulder, thoroughly enjoying the attentions his beloved was bestowing on him. “That sounds great. Love you so much.”

Pecking Blaine on the temple and drawing him closer into an embrace, Kurt just smiled. “I love you, too, Blaine.”

Plan Stiletto is a go.

Looking himself over in the mirror, Kurt couldn’t help but think he looked like sex on two legs. Smirking, he perused the outfit he chose with utmost care.
Starting from the top down, Kurt was wearing a closely cut navy blue button up, the perfect shade to offset his bright blue eyes, an attribute that Blaine had mentioned many times whenever he wore the color. Layered over this was a crisp black vest decorated in slim silver chains hanging between the pocket and chrome buttons. Kurt wore one of the tightest pair of skinny jeans he owned, the one pair that shaped his ass to perfection, once again by Blaine’s opinion.

But the true cherry on top started at his knees, a pair of rich black leather female biker boots. The sides were decorated in slim belt accents with silver buckles, all crowned on top of slightly higher than normal heels coated in chrome, the sides glowing brightly in the light. Turning around to view the back of the shoes, Kurt gloated to himself how tight his calves looked against the silver elevated heels. If this is what women paid for, then they sure got their money’s worth!

Standing back, Kurt metaphorically patted himself on the back for his success, or well, imminent success. If Blaine didn’t jump him as soon as he saw him, then he would definitely call the walk off early to drag Kurt back to the apartment for some seriously hot loving.

I reiterate. Perfect. Kurt thought to himself as he smoothed out non-existent wrinkles on his vest.

After his final inspection, Kurt smiled before grabbing his charcoal gray wool pea coat and silver McQueen scarf and walking out of their bedroom. Stopping in the doorway of the living room, Kurt spotted Blaine leaning on the side of the couch, clad in dark wash jeans that made his legs look longer and leaner, giving him the illusion that he was slightly taller than his 5’ 10” suggested. A dark burgundy sweater hugged his frame perfectly, showing off his broad chest and strong shoulders. But the real kicker that had Kurt biting his lip in anticipation were the loosely gelled curls that trailed over Blaine’s forehead, glossy and gorgeous, while his boyfriend fiddled with a golden scarf around his neck that accentuated his hazel eyes.

Kurt had to forcefully hold back the moan that was rising in his throat. He had a plan, damn it, and just because his boyfriend had to dress so completely hot before said plan could be enacted, did not mean that the plan should be ignored. No, sir! He was going to go through with this, even if the increasing sexual tension caused by the delectable sight leaning on the couch killed him. The only reassurance Kurt had was if he was correct, and at this point he was roughly 95% sure he was, then pretty soon Blaine would be carrying him back to the apartment so all that tension could be released.

“Hey, babe. You look….incredible.” Kurt breathed, his blue eyes twinkling as he wound the silver scarf around his neck. Blaine blushed for a moment, before grinning back, his eyes taking on the well-known cinnamon color as they gazed back at Kurt’s lean, luscious figure. Kurt could feel the blood rushing to his face at that look, the look that started this whole adventure.

“Me? I’m nothing compared to you, love. Everyone will be wondering who that stunning young man on my arm is.” Kurt blushed even more in return, but his smile didn’t fade as he offered Blaine his hand as soon as he pushed it through the sleeve of his coat.

Tugging Blaine out the door to their apartment, Kurt couldn’t stop the rising tide of victory from singing in his veins.

“It’s gorgeous today!” Blaine cried as he gazed at the bright crimson and gold leaves as they fluttered around them on the park path. Leaning into his side, Kurt laughed at how young Blaine seemed as soon as they were able to get away from the small apartment for a little while, walking around for a good hour as they rounded the path one more time. Spotting a single orange leaf twist and turn in the air before landing on Blaine’s head, Kurt reached out to gently brush it away.

“Definitely beautiful. This was a great idea.”

They had been aimlessly walking along the winding paths in the park, the asphalt littered with autumn leaves that crunched under their shoes as their brothers flitted about in the light breeze. Slipping his arm into Blaine’s, their hands intertwining, Kurt breathed in the chilly fall air as the white noise of wind whistling through the tree tops filled the background with the muted murmur of other park patrons fading away.

As they turned another corner in the path, they came to a small hill with a single large maple tree that had hosted many of their picnics during the summer months when the sun was high and the weather irresistible. Seeing the perfect opportunity to show off his boots, Kurt took the initiative.

“Oh! Our spot is open. Want to stay there for a while and enjoy the view?” Kurt barely waited for Blaine to say yes (which he already knew he would), before he took off for the hill top. Stepping off the pavement, Kurt purposefully swayed his hips, a subtle strut that showed off his ass and calves, but most importantly, his heels as he trekked up the small incline, making sure to kick up his shoes at just the right moment so the heels of his boots glinted and shined when they were in full view.

What Kurt didn’t see was how Blaine froze as still as a statue when he caught sight of those flashy heels. He didn’t see Blaine’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, nor how his jaw dropped as the way those heels accentuated Kurt’s legs and ass just like he had intended. He most certainly didn’t see the way Blaine forcefully shut his mouth to stop the steady stream of drool before some pedestrian saw it and commented on his depleting self-control.
What Kurt did see, however, was still just as good.

When Kurt dared to glance at Blaine’s face in the corner of his eye, he couldn’t stop the powerful shiver that traveled up his spine at the intensity of Blaine’s gaze as it focused from his ass downwards, most definitely stopping at his feet. The burning in those hazel eyes made Kurt feel like he was about to combust from the tension in his abdomen. Gulping, he turned back towards the hill, intent on keeping as casual as possible so as to shoot Blaine’s arousal through the roof. The longer he let his boyfriend stew, the better the sex would be, he surmised.

Kurt barely managed to hear Blaine growl under his breath behind him, causing him to smirk in triumph. Reaching the top of the hill, Kurt turned and plastered an innocent expression on his face as his boyfriend lumbered up the hill behind him, that same dark cinnamon still focused on his lower half. Kurt could barely keep his victorious smile contained.

Standing next to the large maple, leaning against the rough bark as the lower limbs covered with golden leaves swayed in the wind, Kurt watched Blaine cross the few yards separating them, not stopping until he was nose to nose with the paler man. Blaine’s eyes remained intense, focused on Kurt’s glasz like they were the only things left in the world to see, but kept silent, allowing his arms to slither around Kurt’s waist, pulling him close by the woolen fabric of his coat.

Leaning into Blaine’s chest, Kurt could feel the inherent warmth radiating from Blaine’s body, seeping through all the delicately and explicitly chosen layers Kurt had worn that day. Nuzzling into the burgundy sweater, Kurt simply breathed in the smell of his lover, the spicy overtones mixed with mint and the slight hint of coffee that perpetually permeated Blaine’s skin. Kurt was addicted to that scent, couldn’t go a day without inhaling it. Smiling, Kurt looked into Blaine’s amber eyes, feeling the blood flush his skin due to the cold and the increasing closeness between them.

Blaine still hadn’t said a word, just kept looking at Kurt as if he held the answer to every question in the universe. Kurt fidgeted slightly under that hazel gaze, not able to fully read Blaine’s expression, only waiting for Blaine to make some sort of move. He was almost about to burst from the silence stretching out between them when Blaine finally acted.

Kurt gasped in surprise, but then in pleasure as he felt his mouth be completely devoured by Blaine’s, his boyfriend’s flushed olive lips moving over his with an urgency that Kurt hadn’t experienced since their finals dry spell from last year, and what two weeks of hell that had been! Kurt was surprised that Blaine had lasted that long without going insane….and that he hadn’t done the same. But, while he still had his brain cells to think with, Kurt could tell that this time could in no way be compared to last year.

It was so much better.

Blaine never stopped moving his mouth, his tongue constantly swiping and caressing every surface he could reach inside Kurt’s mouth. Nothing was left untouched, nothing left undiscovered all over again. His left hand held a death-grip on the back of Kurt’s pea coat while he ran his right hand up Kurt’s spine to mesh with the blondish-brown strands that had fallen from the perfectly quaffed structure that Kurt had spent a good 20 minutes sculpting before they left the apartment.

Kurt moaned under his breath when he felt Blaine’s slightly chilled fingertips skate over his exposed skin under his silver scarf. He gripped the red sweater’s thick knit fabric even tighter, pulling Blaine as close as possible while he tried to pull more air through his nose to make up for every breath he was losing to Blaine. He felt Blaine nip at his bottom lip, whimpering when it began to tingle from the sensation. Whining deep in his throat, Kurt lunged forward, shoving his tongue back into Blaine’s mouth, catching him off guard with his surprising dominance.

Blaine growled in his chest, clutching Kurt with such force he couldn’t feel his knuckles anymore. The fire that had been slowly building inside him the entire walk was raging out of control now. Every desperate inhale was filled with Kurt’s aroma, his musky vanilla and citrus that Blaine couldn’t get enough of. The taste of Kurt’s melon chapstick drove Blaine even further, mixing with the spearmint of Kurt’s toothpaste and that indefinable sweetness that could only be called Kurt. It was driving Blaine mad, the combination of textures, scents, and flavors that seemed to radiate off Kurt in never ending waves.

Feeling his lungs starting to burn from his inattentive breathing, Blaine wrenched his face away from Kurt’s, panting heavily while Kurt emulated him. He watched as Kurt’s cheeks burned a most attractive rosy color, his lips bruised mercilessly as his glasz eyes glazed over like the ice of Rockefeller Center’s skating rink. Blaine could still feel that incessant inferno still blazing in his gut, the spreading heat making him shiver.

“Oh God, Kurt.” Blaine groaned deep in his throat, his voice low and desperate. “It should be illegal to look the way you do in those heels!” Blaine stopped speaking then, shaking his head as he forced his hormone-fogged brain to decide what to do next.

…He had to get Kurt back to the apartment. NOW.

Kurt couldn’t stop the rising giggles as Blaine grabbed hold of his hand and took off running, nearly physically dragging Kurt in the direction of their apartment. He could hear the loud click-clacks of his heels as they slapped the asphalt of the path, and he watched with barely concealed glee as each sound made Blaine flinch and grip his hand even tighter. Sure, he hadn’t taken his sweet time taunting Blaine with his heels like he had wanted, but it seemed like that one little hint was enough to push Blaine over the edge. Kurt’s breath billowed out in small white puffs as they ran all the way back to their apartment block, just narrowly missing hitting the door (as well as a few pedestrians) as they scrambled inside to get to the elevator.

Once inside the elevator, Blaine wasted no time in shoving Kurt up against the wall as the metal doors closed behind them, securing their privacy. Latching onto Kurt’s pale neck after shoving his silver scarf aside, Blaine began biting, nipping, and mouthing the flesh while Kurt writhed uncontrollably. His boyfriend’s high pitched whines echoed in the small ascending box, his porcelain hands gripping his black curls with all their strength as he held Blaine’s head in place. Shifting a knee between Kurt’s legs, Blaine rolled his hips upward and was rewarded by one of the sexiest moans that had ever come out of Kurt’s tempting mouth, guttural and animalistic, his rosy lips parted and gaping. Blaine’s eyes rolled back at the many images that one sound produced, the many images of things to come.

Vaguely hearing the elevator chime their arrival on their floor, Blaine pulled back to take stock of his handiwork. Kurt’s head tilted to the side, the overwhelming pleasure making him partially boneless and unable to do anything but pant for air under Blaine’s hungry scrutiny.
What Blaine saw pleased him immensely.

Kurt’s pale skin now sported a dark red love bite, slightly larger than the size of a dollar coin, the flesh tender and sensitive from his attentions. The mark would definitely bruise to a darkened purple, the kind of bruise that wouldn’t go away for at least a whole week. And the placement was perfect, just over the top of any kind of turtleneck that Kurt possessed, an inch under his right earlobe, making sure that no matter what he wore people would see it regardless of whatever Kurt would to do to hide it.

Blaine lowly chuckled in glee. Everyone would see his mark, his personal brand on Kurt’s porcelain skin. Everyone would see that this stunning, incredible, gorgeous man belonged solely to him, to one Blaine Freaking Anderson.

Blaine grinned darkly before he pulled Kurt from the wall, leading him out of the elevator down the hallway to their door. Pulling Kurt in for another steamy kiss, Blaine hastily tugged his keys out of his pants pocket, their exaggerated jingling giving away how shaky his hands were as they fumbled to open the door. Kurt smirked against Blaine’s lips, feeling the shivers from his boyfriend’s barely restrained sexual hunger as the door was at last ripped open, both boys falling into their abode before kicking the door shut with a pair of chrome covered heels.

The only sound to be heard, other than the occasional lusty, needy moan and a few shrill, pleasure-soaked screams, was the sound of Kurt laughing in victory as he was literally carried off to bed by his desperate boyfriend.

Kurt whimpered as he felt Blaine pull out and fall to his left, his skin prickling as the humidity of the room quickly cooled over his sweat-covered flesh. His heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest as he came down from his most intense orgasm to date, the sound of blood pumping through his ears drowning out every other sound except for Blaine’s rapid breathing next to him, puffing into his mussed hair. Barely managing to groan under his breath, what with his throat so sore and scratchy from screaming, Kurt twisted his head into the pillow and closed his eyes as he tried to calm himself, his mind floundering against the tidal wave of post-coital bliss that descended on him.

While Kurt fought to keep air in his heaving lungs, Blaine had settled on the pillow next to him, just sitting back and admiring the pale Adonis that lay before him while he too reveled in the pleasure-induced numbness and post-climax lethargy. Watching as the barest amount of light that crept into their bedroom window glint off Kurt’s porcelain skin, the sheen of sweat glistening with every inhale, the pools of their passion soaking everything in reach, Blaine couldn’t look away from the hypnotizing sight. Huffing a raspy laugh, Blaine moaned as he forced himself to rise from their shared bed, Kurt twitching as he felt the mattress shift. 

Stumbling to the bathroom on uneasy legs, Blaine managed to grab an old washcloth and dampened it with warm water before turning back to their bedroom. Kneeling on the bed, Blaine lovingly cleaned Kurt’s now barely heaving stomach and thighs, enjoying the minute shivers that echoed under his hands. A wispy sigh escaped Kurt’s lips as he felt the soft, warm cloth dance over his skin, followed by the wayward fingertip of his boyfriend as it began to trace nonsense patterns over his still sensitive abdominal muscles before curling into his sides.

Kurt hummed in the back of his throat when Blaine’s touches gained strength, with enough force to pull him closer to cuddle in the warm afterglow. Resting his head against Blaine’s firm chest, Kurt felt his body finally go boneless and relaxed, every muscle blessedly still. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt’s slim waist, dropping the cloth on the floor to be dealt with later. Pressing a loving kiss to Kurt’s forehead, Blaine couldn’t help but bring up a thought.

“Hey, babe, what just happened?” Kurt giggled uncontrollably. Blaine’s obliviousness still holds true even all these years later.

“Why, whatever do you mean, darling?” Blaine quirked his triangular eyebrows at him as Kurt just smiled wider.

“Don’t play coy, Kurt. You know what I mean. What was with the shoes?”

“Oh, you noticed them, did you? Well, now I know my plan worked.” Kurt smirked smugly as he watched Blaine try to work out just what he was talking about. Still looking confused, Kurt decided to enlighten his lover.

“You have a shoe fetish, Blaine. More specifically, a heel fetish.” Kurt watched as Blaine’s eyes widened in shock.

“Wha- How did-W-what?” Blaine stuttered as he tried to cover for himself before Kurt cut him off.

“Blaine, dear, I saw the way you reacted to women in high heels. The Project Runway marathon we had? The documentary? Every time a pair of high heels crossed your path, you jumped my bones within moments after. It took a little while, but it wasn’t that hard to figure out, especially after your reaction today.”

“You planned that?!” Kurt laughed at the shell-shocked look on Blaine’s face.

“Well, I had to find out if it was true or not! If seeing some woman in heels did that to you, I had to see what seeing me in heels would do to you. And I’m definitely not complaining in the least. Best. Sex. Ever….So far.” Kurt half-lidded his eyes (somehow turning them a deep gray-blue) at Blaine, watching as Blaine not-so-subtly gulped in anticipation for whatever Kurt had planned for the future. “But, there’s one thing I want to know first. What exactly were you thinking about whenever you saw a pair of heels?”

Blaine blushed a deep red, remarkably obvious even with his olive skin tone. Turning his eyes away from Kurt’s, he mumbled something under his breath, so low that not even their close proximity allowed Kurt to tell what he was saying.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Blaine sighed before speaking up. “I said that I was thinking of you in those heels. Every time I saw them, I couldn’t help but picture you in them, and it all went downhill from there. It was just so….sexy.” Blaine ended up moaning slightly on the last word, previously imagined pictures of Kurt in various heels flooding his brain.

Kurt looked surprised before smirking in triumph. “I knew it.”

“You knew?” Blaine looked even more shocked at the declaration.

“I had a pretty good suspicion going if that’s what you mean.” Kurt pulled Blaine even closer, their chests and hips touching all the way down to their toes.

Weaving his fingers through Blaine’s riotous black curls, he pulled his face closer to his own, his breath ghosting over Blaine’s lips as his boyfriend shuddered at the combined sensations.

Kurt sighed. “I can only imagine what you would do if I were to strut around the apartment in that pair of blood red patent heels that I ordered online last week.”Blaine choked on the air that was supposed to be going to his lungs, his hazel eyes blown wide and darkening.

“Especially if I were to wear that pair of black stockings in my drawer and nothing else.” Blaine’s eyes rolled back into his head as he whined desperately, his body reacting in the most obvious of ways.

Kurt chuckled before Blaine grabbed his face to pull him into another fiery kiss, the first of many for their next round…

A/N: ….um…. O///O

Yeah, I went there. ….And it was awesome. Ya know, I won’t clog up this second author’s note, I already explained everything the first time.

If anyone wants a part 2 (since I pretty much left it open at the end), review or PM me, and we’ll see about making it happen. Posting this might just help me with actually writing an even more mature Klaine fic. Who knows?

Still, please read and review and I will give you virtual PB cookies! They’re so good!