After the first fuck they slide to the floor, Kurt in Blaine's lap, kissing slow and sweet, like they're just starting. Kurt holds Blaine's face in his hands and worships his mouth. He leaves little kisses at the corners, slips his tongue inside, and then presses his lips firmly to Blaine’s mouth in a kiss so deep he thinks he might pass out.

They're full on making out now--next to the used condom they had dropped carelessly on the carpet; this is the most impulsive and dirty Kurt has ever been with anyone. He can't even remember the last time he actually made out with someone, kissed someone until his lips hurt, until the air was sucked out of his lungs. It had always been kissing as a means to an end, not just to kiss. This, he thinks, this is kissing for the sake of it, for the love of it, for the pure joy of it.

When Blaine can't take it anymore, he takes Kurt's hands and places them on his own back, engulfing him in a hug, a silent reminder that above all, they are friends. Kurt relaxes in Blaine's tight embrace, his chin on Blaine's shoulder. He still can't believe Blaine held him up on the wall so long. He knew Blaine was strong, but that was... insanely hot.

"Thanks," Blaine says.

Kurt pulls out of the hug, eyes wide. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yup."

"Oh, God," Kurt says, covering his face with his hands. Blaine runs his fingers up and down Kurt's sides, and Kurt drops his hands. "Oh, whatever. It was hot."

"Insanely so, yes." Blaine says with a smirk.

Blaine kisses Kurt's right shoulder, all open mouth and hot breath, and thrusts his hips up a bit. It's just a nudge really, a tentative question. Kurt rests his hands on Blaine's shoulders and answers with his hips, moving his in small, lazy circles. Soon they're breathing heavily, rutting against each other, getting hard again despite the alcohol and the fantastic fuck.

Kurt braces himself on Blaine's shoulders and leans back against the wall, his hips burrowing down into Blaine's lap and thrusting up. The angle is odd, but he doesn't want to move from Blaine's lap, so he reaches one hand down, and takes both of their cocks in it and lines them up perfectly. He is momentarily struck dumb by the sight--how often he had fantasized about this!--and then shakes off the thought, willing himself to stay present, to not miss one second of this night, this surrender.

"Did you... fuck... did you mean it when you said we could go all night?" Blaine asks, synching up with Kurt's movements.

"The damage is done. We should... shit! Just a little faster. Yes!"

Kurt can't believe they're at it again so quickly, after the best wall sex he's had in his entire life. The need to come is so strong, it's almost as if they never got off, as if they're still building to something, still desperate.

"We should what?" Blaine asks He adjusts Kurt's hips just a few inches and then holds them down.

"We should just... fuck Blaine!"

"Yeah. Keep moving. Just like that."

Kurt's breath is coming fast now, but somehow he manages to get it out. "We should just get it out of our systems. Even if takes... oh... yes... yes... even if it takes... all night."

They’re rocking in a decent rhythm but they keep slipping; soon they're both whining in frustration.

"Kurt... can you--?"

Kurt presses firmly on Blaine's shoulders and pushes him onto his back, covering him. He spreads Blaine's legs a few inches and lines up their bodies, his hips a bit lower than Blaine's. He thrusts up hard, dragging his cock up and back again. He's digging in and dragging up and digging in and dragging up and the friction is so good it's almost painful.

"Faster, Kurt. Faster," Blaine pleads, his arms wrapped around Kurt's back, pressing down hard, holding them together. He meets Kurt's thrusts every time and it's perfect slippery magic now, all grunts and groans and the smell of sex and sweat and cologne and Blaine. His name is a mantra in Kurt's head as he ruts harder, faster, harder faster. Blaine. Blaine. Blaine. Blaine.

"Good. So good," Blaine mumbles, eyes rolling back in his head.

Kurt is on the edge now, pressing down, pressing in, harder, more, closer still. He pushes his forehead into Blaine's shoulder and wills himself to keep the rhythm sure and steady so as not to break the delicious build.

Could I melt into his body, fuse with his skin, his muscles, his bones? Could I line my heart up with his and sink in, take over? Could I have this forever? Could I keep him?

No. But I can have this night.

Kurt comes first this time, letting the internal mantra fall from his lips. "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine." He wants to collapse but he keeps moving, deeper, harder, faster, pressing Blaine into the carpet.

Blaine tenses and arches his back up off of the floor, pushing Kurt up with him. "Oh God, oh God," he screams, as he comes all over Kurt's belly.

Kurt falls onto him, but the mess is too messy. He rolls over onto his side next to Blaine, hip to hip. They both pant, Blaine with one arm thrown over his eyes.

"Holy shit, Kurt."

"You keep saying that."

And then suddenly they're laughing, giddy with the release of their age-old tension.

Kurt's whole body shakes and Blaine seems lost to it, like he can't stop, like they've just shared the funniest inside joke ever told. Kurt laughs until he feels tears at the corners of his eyes.

When was the last time I was this happy? I can't remember. Maybe singing. Maybe sitting on the little bench in the dressing room, watching Mom try on outfits for "date night." Maybe lying in the grass with Blaine in that field behind Dalton's tennis courts, sharing earbuds and staring up at endless sky. Maybe never.

Blaine grabs his shirt and wipes the come off their chests, stomachs and thighs. He tosses the shirt across the room. They turn to face each other. Blaine's eyes are shining, and Kurt can't stop himself from touching his face. He wants to stay cool, casual, to keep the happy down so as not to betray his feelings, but it's nearly impossible--especially when Blaine gives him a giant smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes.

Blaine reaches for Kurt's other hand and plays with his fingers. He says, "You're not shy."

"This surprises you?"

"I always pictured you... I imagined having to draw you out," Blaine explains.

"Yes, well, you weren't wrong. But that was then. We're grown-ups, Blaine."

"I know," Blaine says, threading their fingers together. "I know."

Kurt watches their joined hands for a moment, then says, "I like sex."

Blaine chuckles. "I got that."

"So spill," Kurt says. "The fantasies. I'm demure Kurt, and you're what, my mentor, seducing me? Getting me comfortable with my body? Helping me discover my sexual appetite?" Kurt is full-on teasing now, enjoying the bashful look on Blaine's otherwise composed face.

"Not exactly," Blaine says.

"What, then? Tell me. Because you know far too much about my first boyfriends to ever think I’d be shy in bed."

"I know. But I still… I guess when I... imagine you... I still think of you at sixteen, nervous about sex, afraid to watch porn--"

"Ugh. I still don't like porn," Kurt says.

"Really? Because there's this awesome series you might like--"

"Blaine, no."

Blaine smiles and turns to look at the ceiling, moving their clasped hands to rest on his damp, sweaty chest. "Remember the time Wes downloaded that video of the naked muscle guys sitting in a classroom, learning how to give proper blowjobs?"

"Oh, god. He wanted his girlfriend to watch it--"

"Something about 'educational purposes' and 'for the good of all concerned'--"

"Yes! That was some bloody nose she gave him. What was her name again?"

"Um... Sheila?"

"Susan!"

"Right. Susan. Poor Susan. Anyway, I still remember you standing back from the screen. You had your hands over your face, but I could see one eye peeking out from between your fingers."

Kurt gives Blaine a playful slap on the side. "It was weird, okay? I had this massive crush on you--"

"Aww--"

"--And watching... that... with you... was just beyond uncomfortable."

"But you looked. You still looked."

Blaine lets go of Kurt's hand and runs his fingers over Kurt's belly, flat and toned. He traces the outside of Kurt's belly button with his index finger. Circle. Circle. Circle. Circle.

"I couldn't help myself," Kurt says, more in breath than words.

"Did you learn anything?"

"About what?"

"Blowjobs." Circle. Circle. Circle. Circle.

"You know you're embarrassingly obvious, right? And a bit juvenile," Kurt teases. "You're practically middle-aged, Blaine. If you want a blowjob, just ask."

Blaine's fingers move down, tracing the line of fine hair from Kurt's navel down to his well-groomed cock. His touch is feather-light, almost tickling, as he traces the line up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

"I’m thirty. Thirty is hardly middle-aged," Blaine says. "And you'll be thirty in no time, Kurt. Are you saying you think of yourself as middle-aged?"

Kurt finds it difficult to concentrate now, with his entire being focused on Blaine's one finger. Still, he manages a comeback. "Blaine, no matter how many birthdays I have, I will never be middle-aged. You, on the other hand--"

Blaine's finger moves down, down, down, hovering over Kurt's cock. "Yes, Kurt? What about me?"

"Um--"

Blaine runs one finger along the underside of Kurt's cock and back again. Kurt gasps, mesmerized. Despite all of it, Kurt is getting hard again. "I... ah... I don't think my cock knows how old I am."

"What?"

"I'm pretty sure my cock thinks I'm seventeen," Kurt says.

Blaine stops the sweet torture, his head collapsing onto Kurt's stomach as he laughs and laughs and laughs. Kurt laughs with him, winding his fingers through Blaine's curls. He can't see Blaine's face, but he can feel his smile on his skin. It's so easy now, this thing between them that used to be fun and sexy but so very, very difficult.

"I mean, it's almost like, at the very sight of you, my cock has some freakish flashback and acts like I don't have anything better to do but spend all night getting off with you," Kurt says, his chest rising and falling with every giggle.

Still laughing, Blaine says, "You really think your dick has a mind of its own?"

"Clearly, it does. Isn't that how we ended up here?"

Blaine lifts his head and looks at Kurt, who stretches up on his elbows to look him in the eyes. "No. It really isn't."

Kurt looks at him for a moment, mouth open. Then he smiles. He touches Blaine's cheek, reaches up to kiss his lips, the tip of his nose, his forehead. "I know. I was only teasing."

Blaine relaxes, rests his head on Kurt's stomach again. "I'm not used to you saying the word 'cock.'"

"I suppose not," Kurt says. "It's not a word I would use with you unless--"

"Unless we were lovers," Blaine finishes.

"Yes. That's right."

They're quiet for a few moments, listening to each other breathe over the low hum of the air conditioner on the other side of the room.

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"This is amazing... right?" Kurt asks.

"Completely."

"Is it--" Kurt trails off, searching Blaine's eyes for the answer to the question he cannot ask.

Blaine shifts off of Kurt and onto his side and now they're mirroring each other, caressing faces and holding hands. "Tell me," he says.

"Okay. Okay, I will. But first, can we agree that everything we do tonight, and everything we say, will never leave this room?"

"Absolutely."

"Then... then I want to say that I am ridiculously happy," Kurt says. Blaine's eyes light up. There's that smile again. "I think we've needed this for so long, and... just let me get this out, okay?" Blaine nods and squeezes Kurt's hand.

"You were brave, when you said you wanted me," Kurt continues. "I... I should have said it back to you, but... we've both wanted this for so long and it was keeping us from truly being happy. Because this was inevitable... wasn't it?"

"For sure," Blaine says. He holds both of Kurt's hands in his and rubs his thumbs over Kurt's wrists like he's done so many times before, like he did last night, and everything feels so right Kurt doesn't want to say what he know needs to be said.

He says it anyway.

"So it wouldn't have been fair, marrying Paul without first--"

Blaine tenses for a moment and Kurt trails off, nervous; but Blaine recovers quickly.

"Getting it out of our systems?"

"Right. Yes. So you understand?" Kurt asks.

"Of course. You're saying we had to do this, so we can truly give ourselves to Liam and Paul. I'm not sure they would agree with your theory, but they don't have to know."

Kurt sits up suddenly. "They can't know, Blaine."

Blaine tenses up again. Kurt wants to climb inside of him and live there forever, to ease his worry from the inside out, to stay. He wants more than he'll ever admit; and he won't admit it because Kurt isn't just Kurt Hummel anymore. He's Kurt Hummel and Paul James. He won't admit it because Kurt has a beautiful, magazine-perfect life and what he wants, what he really wants is too much to ask of his friend who loves someone else. He won't admit it because Kurt is a fucking master at managing disappointment. He rocks disappointment. But this, this all-consuming, electric joy, this he does not know how to do.

Blaine looks away and says, "Look, Kurt, we're on the same page here. Let's just... can we just agree that we have this crazy chemistry--"

"That is an understatement, Blaine. It's like saying the atomic bomb was a little intense."

Blaine laughs and turns back to Kurt. He looks a little sad, but it could be guilt or exhaustion; his expression is too small for Kurt to tell for sure. Blaine runs his fingers through Kurt's hair and smiles when Kurt leans into his hand.

"Okay, so we agree that we can't tell them. And we agree that we have to stop, come morning. And we agree that we can say anything to each other tonight, and it won't be repeated. Yes?"

"Yes," Kurt nods, kissing the palm of Blaine's hand.

"Then let me tell you that as much as I would love to tell you my secrets and bond over our shared... frustration... I only have a few hours left to do everything to you I've always wanted to do. So I need you to shut up now. Okay?"

Kurt tries not to swoon. He nods and says, "Okay, but--"

"But what?"

"We haven't even left the hallway--"

"And?"

"You do know hotel rooms have beds, right?"

Blaine gives Kurt's cock a squeeze. Kurt whines and Blaine laughs, getting to his feet and holding out a hand for Kurt. "Come on, you. Shower first, then bed."

Kurt takes Blaine's hand and follows him into the bathroom. They catch sight of their dual reflection in the mirror: all mussed hair, wide eyes and flushed skin.

"We look like the spokespeople for sex," Kurt says, leaning into Blaine.

"Huh?"

"Well, I was going to say 'poster children' for sex, but somehow that just sounds wrong," Kurt explains, giggling.

Blaine squeezes Kurt's bicep and goes to start the water. Kurt can't take his eyes off of his own reflection. He looks brighter somehow, in focus, like he just woke up from a very long sleep. Kurt quickly checks his toiletry bag for more condoms, left over from Paul's last visit to Santa Fe. He takes the condoms out and sets them on the counter. He turns to look at Blaine, water cascading down his chest like some wet dream come to life.

How many times did I imagine this? How many times did I play out this scene in the Dalton showers? It's hard to believe he's here, waiting for me.

I should feel guilty, but I don't. Maybe I'll feel guilty tomorrow.

"Kurt," Blaine says, and his eyes are asking again.

"Coming."