Kurt reached to pull a sheet, a blanket, anything over his head, shielding himself from the silver shards of daylight crossing the bed, but the blankets wouldn't budge. He tugged again, and a groan rose from under the sheets.

He opened his eyes to see Blaine settling in on his side, one arm tucked tightly into the blankets, falling back to sleep with the softest of snores. 

He smiled to himself, letting his eyes close again and setting his mind adrift across the past 12 hours.

The party had ended just hours earlier, and Blaine had scarcely been able to drag himself up the stairs. The stress, the schedule, the liquor had all taken a toll. He had tried to pick up where they left off in the wine cellar. They had reached the bedroom and he had kissed Kurt, pulling him to the bed and fumbling with his shirt buttons — and had crashed. The moment Blaine had hit the mattress, the weight of exhaustion had overtaken his posture, his eyes, his voice.

"I think what you need right now is sleep," Kurt had said, kissing him lightly. "And to be honest, me, too."

Blaine had whimpered at the words, but was already well on the brink of nodding off.

"Stay with me?" he'd murmured.

Kurt had nodded, placing a wisp of a kiss on Blaine's lips. "Of course." 

Then he'd brought his forehead to rest against Blaine's, a moment that in some ways had felt more intimate to him than anything that could have followed, as if he had finally exhaled a breath he had held for months.

"Let's get you out of these and get some sleep," he'd said, pulling a pliant Blaine up from the bed to a seated position and helping him from his shirt. "Where should I put this?"

"Toss it," Blaine had mumbled.  

Kneeling at the side of the bed, Kurt had turned and tossed the shirt to a nearby chair. He'd untied and removed Blaine's shoes, then his socks. Then he'd looked up at him, a little self-conscious. "Maybe I should leave the rest to you."

He'd stood up and removed his own jacket, shirt, slacks and shoes, draping the suit carefully on the back of the chair. Standing in Blaine's bedroom dressed in nothing but an undershirt and briefs, he'd focused on keeping his breathing in check as he took Blaine's pants from his hands and folded them neatly, setting them on top of his own.

Blaine had watched him silently throughout, a slight blush dotting his cheeks. He'd finally looked down, biting his lower lip. 

"I should have have a new toothbrush in here you can use." Moments later, they had stood side-by-side in the bathroom, brushing teeth, washing faces, sharing a moment of routine domesticity that had been so utterly new that they couldn't help but sneak peeks at each other every moment or two. 

The thought had crossed Kurt's mind that maybe he should challenge sleep to a duel, but he'd  known that exhaustion currently had him outmatched. When they'd finally climbed into bed, it already had felt so familiar, as if they had instinctively known which side of the mattress belonged to whom as they curled their bodies into a comfortable knot.

They'd held each other through what remained of the night, Kurt wrapped around Blaine's back, his chin burrowed into his shoulder.

But with sunlight now spilling freely into the room, Kurt gave in to the day.

"You awake?" Kurt whispered.

"Mmm-nope."

Kurt peeked under covers, craning his neck just a little.

"You lie."

Blaine's eyes were shut, but his face was beaming. "I might be waking up," he said.

Kurt kissed the bridge of his nose, and dropped his hand under the covers, slowly tracing a path along Blaine's hip. He ran his palm in soft circles between his waist and upper thigh, then dipped his fingers between the elastic waistband of his briefs and the soft skin underneath. He could hear Blaine's breath shift, its tempo increasing with each completed circle.

Kurt grazed his ear with his tongue.

"How about now?" he murmured.

Blaine sighed, and shifted his body back toward Kurt.

Kurt ran his hand along Blaine's chest, drifting to his nipples, where he started again: circle, circle, circle. 

His eyes still closed, feigning sleep, Blaine let out a high-pitched whine.

"Are you ticklish, Blaine Anderson?" 

Kurt could hear a muted laugh. Moments later, Blaine rolled up, over and on top of him, pinning him to the mattress. Blaine grabbed Kurt's hands and gently pulled them above his head. 

Then he stopped, and gazed down at Kurt, his demeanor shifting from light to something else entirely. 

"Mmm, I have morning breath," Kurt protested.

"I don't care," Blaine said, kissing him and pointedly rolling his hips into Kurt's.

Kurt wriggled his hands free and ran them down Blaine's back, intermittently pulling at his undershirt and grabbing his ass. As if taking a hint, Blaine pulled back and peeled the light cotton tank off, throwing it across the room. He dove back to Kurt's body, tonguing his way south.

"Need to get rid of this," he mumbled, pulling at Kurt's t-shirt and yanking it over his head, tossing it near his own far-flung undershirt. "Better." 

He kissed his way down Kurt's chest, his tongue lingering on one nipple, then the other. His hands wandered further, skimming soft skin until they reach the waistband of his briefs.

Blaine lifted his head enough to look into Kurt's eyes, pupils blown and bright, a silent question that Kurt answered without hesitation.

"Please."

Kurt lifted his hips off the bed, but Blaine didn't try to undress him right away. Instead he lingered, using his index finger to trace a delicate line along Kurt's rapidly hardening cock. He eased his body down, mapping Kurt's chest, his stomach, his waist with his mouth.

He finally kissed his way down the soft cotton, tonguing at Kurt's cock through the fabric. Blaine breathed him in, and groaned.

"Blaine, please." 

"Mmmm. Such good manners," Blaine murmured, grinning into his words, reaching up to finally remove the gray cotton underwear.

"So... well-mannered is a turn on?"

"You have no idea," Blaine said, setting his mouth on Kurt's flushed cock, kissing the shaft, licking at the slit before finally settling over the head. He caressed the base with one hand. With the other, he reached for Kurt's hand, pulling it around and holding it tight and close to Kurt's chest. 

He moved slowly, deliberately, as he took Kurt fully into his mouth. Kurt moaned in equal parts  happiness and frustration.

"Blaine, is this you sleepy or you trying to drag this out?"

"Mmmm," Blaine hummed, sending shivers through Kurt's now alert body, and pulling off with a kiss to his head. "It's me happy — and sleepy."

Kurt twisted his spine, arching, his free hand gripping into Blaine's curls. "You're gonna kill me doing that."

"In a good way?"

"Blaine..."

"Yes?" Blaine said, slowing stroking Kurt's balls while making a wet trail of kisses from cock to navel.

Kurt's moan came out more like a squeak bubbling from his gut. That did it. Blaine erupted in fits of giggles.

"That's it! You're awake. No more of this sleepy routine — Shit! — Come on. Don't want to come yet. Not 'til you..."

"Mmm-hmmm..."

"Blaine, please..."

Blaine nosed his way up, kissing up Kurt's chest and jaw, to his ear. 

"What do you want? Tell me what you want."

"Want you. Want you before I..."

"Kurt, I wasn't exactly prepared for this."

"My suit..."

"What?"

"Jacket. Inside pocket." Kurt was panting out his words by this point, and if he hadn't wanted Blaine as much as he did, if he hadn't waited so long for this moment, he might very well have killed him for dragging this out, Kurt thought.

"Just get it, please."

Blaine got off the bed and rummaged through Kurt's jacket that had been so neatly draped on the chair. He pulled out a chain of four condoms, the foil packets still connected. Blaine waved them over his head in a victory salute and tossed them on the bed.

"And the other pocket..."

Blaine checked again, and pulled out several rectangular foil packs.

"Lube. In convenient travel packs? Did you come here last night with the sole intention of seducing me, Mr. Hummel?" he said with a wicked grin.

"Well, not the sole intent," he said, pulling at the perforation between condom wrappers. "But it was a high priority."

Blaine leaned in, kissing his neck. "Four condoms? Kurt Hummel is goal-oriented."

"Or an optimist. Come here."

Kurt grabbed him by the back of the neck to draw him close, pressing his tongue to his mouth in a rough preview of things to come. He ran his hands down Blaine's back and into his briefs, sliding them down his thighs far enough for Blaine to kick them off. 

"How do you want..."

"Like this. Just like this. I want to see you," Kurt huffed. 

The words stifled Blaine's giddiness. He simply nodded, tracing Kurt's cheek with his hand as he reached over for a pillow to place under Kurt's hips. He cupped his face and kissed him, slowly, deeply, then reached for one of the tiny packets he had dropped on the bed. He broke the kiss only for a moment, to bite and rip open the little packet of lube.

"I can never open these damn things," he said, rolling lube between his fingers. He inched his body forward, pressing against Kurt so that his legs would spread wide, then reached down, rubbing, massaging, reaching further and progressively deeper to Kurt's vocal groans and sighs.

Kurt arched his back into each small thrust of Blaine's hand, shutting his eyes, gripping the pillow with one hand and flailing blindly with the other.

"Oh god, where'd it go?" 

"Right there, by your shoulder."

Kurt opened his eyes, found the condom packet and tore it open, reaching for Blaine, stroking him a few times before rolling it on. 

"Kurt?"

"Now. Blaine please, now."

Blaine gingerly pulled his fingers out, drawing a deep inhale from Kurt, and brought them face-to-face. They locked eyes, and without shifting his gaze, Blaine eased himself in.

He took his time, settled in and waited, caressing Kurt's face with lips and nose and hand until he got the go ahead, the simple nod, the sign that said, move, now.

Slowly, their bodies began to rock together, picking up a gradual rhythm. Blaine moved cautiously, gently at first, a slow dance between new lovers. But with Kurt's urging, the "Go, please, yes, more, harder, just right there—" they moved faster, a synchronous rapid rhythm pushed closer to the brink.

"Please."

"Tell me what you need. What do you need?"

"Just more. Please."

"Here, your leg," Blaine said, lifting Kurt's left leg up and on to his shoulder as Kurt did all he could to wrap his right leg around Blaine's waist.

With that, Blaine picked up the pace, thrusting repeatedly until he was slapping their bodies together, driving deep inside Kurt. It was enough to tip him over the edge — the tight, desperate pull in his stomach twisting itself into knots.

"Close. Oh god, I'm not going to last. Kurt..."

Kurt grabbed his ass, controlling the tempo. "Give me your hand. Just touch me." 

Blaine gripped Kurt's cock as he plunged in again and again, grinding deep to Kurt's desperate urging. With one last push, he slammed their bodies together, shaking and gasping through his orgasm. Kurt wasn't far behind, taking Blaine's hand in his to speed up the tempo on his cock until he pulsed hard across their stomachs.

Blaine stayed with him throughout, setting a gentle rhythm even as he softened to help bring Kurt down from the high. He finally pulled up and eased himself out. He raised up on his elbows and looked down at Kurt.

"I wish you could see yourself right now," he said.

"What? A sweaty, sticky mess?"

"Sweaty, maybe. Sticky?" He looked down between them, "Definitely. But my god, you're beautiful."

Kurt brought his hand to his face, as if to hide behind it, but Blaine pulled it away and sealed his mouth with a kiss. 

"No, there's no denying that. You're stunning." He exhaled and looked up and around the room. "It feels good to finally say that."

Kurt pulled him back down to the mattress and rolled him onto his side. They curled in, face-to-face, breathing in the moment.

"I can't believe we got here," Kurt said.

"Why? I thought we were kind of on the brink for a while."

"You hated me when you met me."

"Oh, no," Blaine pinched his face in embarrassment. "I was such an ass."

"A cute ass."

"Thank you," Blaine said, rolling his eyes. "I was a jerk, but I didn't hate you. I hated the idea of you, and I hated the fact that I was so attracted to you. I didn't expect that."

"Oh? Pray, do tell, kind sir."

"Now you're just fishing..."

"Trawling..."

Blaine pulled himself closer.

"You're handsome."

Kiss.

"You're talented."

Kiss. Kiss.

"You kill me when you wear those black jeans."

"Oh? Which ones?"

Kiss.

"You know which ones," Blaine said, his voice a low murmur, his lips skimming over Kurt's neck.

"Skinnies?"

Kiss.

"Of course."

Kiss.

"The Sevens."

"Mmmm. That would be the pair."

Kiss. Kiss.

"I just about have to paint those on."

"I know. They're a distraction."

Kiss.

"I'll have to wear them more often."

"Mmmm. You have my vote."

"You're distracting too, you know," Kurt said, playing with an errant curl. Blaine responded with a half-hearted eye roll. "That first day out on the road. I remember every detail."

"Ugh. I wish you wouldn't."

"I'm not kidding! When a guy drives straight out of a Ralph Lauren ad and into your life, you tend to remember it."

"Oh, please." Blaine turned his face toward the pillow, trying to hide the watercolored blush creeping across his cheeks.

"Mmm-hmm. Fashionable outdoorsman with his aviators and his denim shirt and hot angry eyes  and that damn truck."

"I love my truck — wait. Was I that angry?"

Kurt tucked the curl back into place, and kissed him.

"I was talking about your eyes, which are hypnotic, by the way, but yes, you were that angry. We've already agreed that you were an ass that day. Moving on..."

"But not now," Blaine said, doing a little fishing of his own.

Kurt leaned in, nearly cheek-to-cheek, and kissed his temple. "You've redeemed yourself."

They nestled in, lingering longer than either could track, looking into each other's eyes, occasionally drifting off.

"You think we could just lock ourselves in here and never leave?" Kurt asked, softly tracing Blaine's jaw with his finger, migrating to his lower lip.

"Never?"

"Well, we might need food at some point. But just the day, a day closed off from the world?"

"I think we could manage that," Blaine said, his lips seeking out Kurt's finger, kissing it softly. "No one's working today, at least not here. What about you? Do you need to see Quinn?"

"Nope. She left explicit instructions to be left alone today. Spa day, I think."

"So there's nothing on your business calendar?"

"Nope."

"Your social calendar?"

"I'm all yours."

"I like the sound of that," Blaine said, a grin spreading across his face. "But maybe we should clean up first? A shower? Clean sheets?"

"Or we could mess them up a little more first," Kurt said, rolling Blaine onto his back.

Kurt kissed him, deeply this time, dropping the pretense of gentility in favor of tongue and heat and want. 

He stopped suddenly, and lifted his head.

"You're right."

"Hmm?"

"Shower. Toothpaste."

"That bad?"

"Come on. Shower, then sex," Kurt said, clambering from the bed and extending his hand.

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. "Not fair, Hummel."

Kurt looked Blaine up and down, and raised an eyebrow in appreciation of the tented sheet. He leaned in to whisper in Blaine's ear.

"Okay, shower and sex," he said, grabbing two stray little packets from the bed.

He took Blaine's hand in his and pulled gently, drawing him out of bed and leading him to the master bath — an airy, gabled room of stone and light and wooden floors with espresso stain in contrast to white wooden cabinets. 

"You design this?" Kurt asked, kissing behind Blaine's ear.

"Sort of."

"If I had a tub like that in my apartment, I might not ever get out."

"You'd be very pruny. Bath or shower?"

"Right now? Shower."

Blaine turned on the water in the glass-encased stall, building a small cloud of steam while they brushed their teeth.

Kurt pulled him into the shower, squeezing bath gel into Blaine's hands, then his own. It may have served the technical purpose of cleanliness, but it was mainly an excuse for hands to roam and explore: a chest, a cock, a spine, an ass. 

He built a thin layer of suds across Blaine's skin, wrapped him in his arms and twirled him toward the steady stream of hot water, giving him another excuse to run his hands from face to shoulder to hip as he washed the soap away.

Kurt's hands directed him one way, then the other, turning so he could concentrate on Blaine's back with hand and tongue, then guiding him around again so mouth could meet mouth.

He pulled Blaine close, and pulled his hand around, drifting down from stomach to inch through the dark trail of hair.

"Kurt..." Blaine couldn't finish a sentence or a thought as he felt his need build.

"I'm right here," Kurt said, dipping his tongue into that tiny spot, the one between Blaine's ear and his jaw, that he had already discovered had a way of eliciting a series of soft, babbling moans. "Come here."

He turned Blaine toward the wall and wrapped his hand around his length, nipping at the base of Blaine's neck.

"Kurt... Would you? Do you? Please."

Kurt bit his lip, just for a moment, remembering Sebastian's taunting words. He had been right about one thing: Blaine was a babbler, murmuring and muttering incomprehensible and absolutely wonderful sounds of pleasure. 

"You're going to have to add a verb before I can make heads or tails of that," Kurt whispered in his ear.

Blaine groaned in frustration.

"Fuck."

"That'll do. And yes, absolutely."

Kurt reached for the packet he'd brought along into the shower, tearing it open and pouring some lube into his hand. He wrapped an arm around Blaine, placing his hand flat against his chest, resting his cheek to his shoulder. 

And then his fingers were inside him, one drawing a sigh, two eliciting a "yes," and three inciting a load moan and a demand for more, now. 

Behind a tear of foil and a slide of latex, Kurt pushed in. He aimed for slow and gentle. Blaine would have none of it. Forehead pressed against the slate shower stall, Blaine gritted out his wants.

"Dammit Kurt. Just fuck me."

"Somebody's pushy."

"Kurt..."

Fine, Kurt thought. He pulled back and nearly out, then slammed his body back into Blaine's. He gave Blaine exactly what he asked for, what he demanded: a rapid, unrelenting pace.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"Vocabulary, Blaine," Kurt blurted out, hardly able to speak himself.

"Oh, god... Kurt... Fuck!"

Kurt adjusted his angle and slathered Blaine's neck with sloppy kisses. He let the hand that had been cemented across Blaine's heart drop, tugging and twisting and pulling until Blaine couldn't take it anymore.

"Shit!"

"That's it, let it go, let it go."

Driving himself back, Blaine convulsed against Kurt's waiting chest, spilling across his hand and the stone wall of the shower. 

Kurt waited out his orgasm as long as possible, supporting Blaine as he came down from his high, then picking up speed again — a rapid succession of jolting thrusts, unable to quickly catch his release.

"God, Kurt. Come on already," Blaine said, at this point over-sensitive and utterly exhausted. 

His building laughter at Blaine's whining finally triggered it. With a last, labored push, Kurt drove into him, coming deep inside. He rested his head against Blaine's shoulder and tried to calm his erratic breathing.

With a kiss to Blaine's jaw, he pulled out and peeled himself free of the condom. He steered him silently back to the flow of water, rinsing them off and shutting the shower off.

Blaine turned back toward him, looking a little dazed, and landed a sloppy kiss.

"Hey."

"Hey," Kurt said. "So, somebody's got a serious case of potty mouth."

"Only when inspired."

Blaine stepped out of the shower and grabbed two towels when he paused, seemingly struck by a moment of inspiration.

"So, how much time do you think you have left in your swanky digs over at Bardessono?"

"You mean since Napa lost?"

Blaine nodded.

"Not long, unless I want to be paying rack rate."

"Pity."

"Why?"

"Well, I doubt that room has been enjoyed to its fullest potential," Blaine said with a sly arch of the brow.

"Mr. Anderson, are you trying to get into my pants just so you can hang out in my suite?"

"I was just thinking about that stone hot tub out on your patio. And maybe the outdoor shower."

****