Kurt laid back and Blaine moved over him, pressing his weight against the other boy. He inhaled deeply as he opened his mouth against Kurt's. Tongues pushed and shoved, teeth clicked against each other, hands moved along arms and torsos as they relearned each other's bodies. It wasn't rough, but it was definitely needy and far from gentle. Kurt's breath hitched as Blaine moved his hand low to trace the hem of Kurt's sweat pants.

Blaine took the opportunity to place a line of sloppy kisses down Kurt's jaw and neck. Kurt's hands eventually found their way to Blaine's bowtie. He yanked it off with surprising speed and then went about unbuttoning Blaine's shirt. Blaine pulled back from where he'd been sucking a bruise onto Kurt's collar bone and sat up, straddling Kurt. He helped the other boy finish unbuttoning his shirt and then shrugged it off, tossing it to the side. Kurt sat up and pulled his own shirt over his head. Blaine sat there for a moment, scanning Kurt's unblemished torso and remembering how much he'd missed how soft Kurt was.

When he looked up he saw Kurt staring at him with dark eyes. Blaine wrapped his arm around the other boy, tracing his spine with tentative touches. Kurt arched his back in response, his eyes snapping shut as a tiny gasp escaped his lips. It sent Blaine's mind reeling to see Kurt so exposed and visceral. He pushed Kurt back, settling himself so that their legs slotted together. He used his knee to spread Kurt's legs, allowing him to press even closer. The feeling of so much of Kurt's bare skin against his gave him goose bumps as he nipped and licked at every hollow and edge of Kurt's anatomy that he could reach.

A filling warmth built low in Blaine's stomach, but it wasn't just heated desire. The hook up at the wedding had been nothing but lust and a simple relief of sexual tension. This, on the other hand, satisfied so much more on so many different levels. Even thinking about it made Blaine dizzy. He trusted his instincts and his responses became more needy and passionate as his mind became clouded with desire. He gave in to months of agonizing and yearning for this, assaulting Kurt's perfect skin with teeth and hands, being sure to press hard enough to leave bruises. The thought of Adam seeing these marks, knowing that he hadn't made them gave Blaine a certain satisfaction that he was glad no one else would ever know about.

Kurt reached between them, letting his hand trail down Blaine's stomach and over his jeans. He sucked air in through his teeth as Kurt palmed the fabric, stretched tight over his crotch. Kurt enveloped Blaine's mouth with his own, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and nibbling at it gently as his fingers slowly unzipped the other boy's zipper. Blaine stifled a groan, grinding his hips down in search of some sort of friction. He felt Kurt smile against his lips, obviously amused by Blaine's neediness. Blaine quickly put an end to this by rubbing his thigh against Kurt's groin, eliciting a startled gasp from the other boy.

Kurt trailed a hand down Blaine's bare back, leaving a tingling burn on Blaine's oversensitive, overheated skin. Kurt's hand finally came to rest on the back of his upper thigh, kneading the flesh there. Blaine arched back into the touch, feeling his own arousal growing to a blinding white heat of passion.

Blaine felt lightheaded as he and Kurt continued to move and grind and grope, getting needier and needier with every touch. Kurt's grip tightened where it was now holding Blaine's bicep as the other boy bit hard at the curve where his shoulder met his neck. A shaky groan escaped the older boy's lips before he could stop it.

"Blaine, please," Kurt whispered. Blaine pulled back for a moment, looking at Kurt in surprise. Kurt's cheeks were now tinted with a faint rosy blush, as if he was ashamed of wanting Blaine to do what he wanted Blaine to do. Blaine couldn't stand the thought of Kurt thinking that he should ever be ashamed of what he felt. He kissed Kurt deeply and then set about granting him validation in his desires.

* * * * *

Kurt was tracing invisible patterns across Blaine's forearm as Blaine studied Kurt's face very intently. They lay curled into each other, faces close enough that Blaine could easily lean forward and kiss Kurt's lips softly until his eyelids fluttered close (like they always did) but far enough away that he could also memorize the exact way that the light hit his eyes and made them appear more cerulean and vibrant than usual. He knew it was cheesy, but it made him get butterflies just thinking about things like that. Kurt paused for a moment, smiling up at Blaine as he realized the other boy had been staring at him. He blushed slightly when Blaine didn't look away.

"Alright, Lady Hummel, we need to talk about the Brody problem that is stinking up this apartment.... Especially the bathroom."

As Santana stormed into Kurt's bedroom, unannounced, Blaine pulled the covers up over his head. He could feel Kurt's body temperature rise as he pressed against him, though he wasn't sure if it was out of anger or embarrassment.

"Santana!" Kurt squeaked, scrambling up slightly in the bed. Blaine remained under the comforter, listening to the conversation as he stared at the pattern on Kurt's sheets.

"What? It's not like the Duke of Cambridge here doesn't know about my theory that Brody is actually the antichrist," Santana retorted as if it were the most obvious thing she'd ever said. It was at this point that Blaine realized he should probably get up, and Kurt seemed to agree as he nudged Blaine under the covers. Unfortunately, Kurt couldn't see under the covers, so he ended up elbowing Blaine in the nose.

"Ow!" Blaine pouted, rubbing his nose and scooting up so that his torso was exposed.

Santana stared with the disapproving, confused bitchface that anyone who spent more than ten milliseconds around her would recognize. "Okay, either the Ken doll slipped me some of whatever the hell he's selling in my orange juice this morning, or your very American, travel size, prep school ex-boy toy is lying naked in bed with you and not your british hipster."

"Nice to see you too, Santana," Blaine responded dryly, since Kurt seemed at a loss for words at the moment..

"Whatever," she continued, undeterred from her original task. "So the body builder has got to go, because I can't have people like him hanging around here all the time. I'm pretty sure he's- oh hang on." Santana pulled out her ringing phone, answering it as she wanted into the other room.

Blaine's heart skipped half of a beat. If Santana was uncomfortable with Brody, she had to know the truth about him, which could mean very bad things. He couldn't let Kurt know the truth, not after what had transpired last night. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as he realized what that meant: he'd have to talk- and I mean actually TALK to him- before Santana got to him first.