December was slowly passing. Kurt was spending more and more time with Blaine in their usual hotel. The days he had to meet in late for work he went there first, sometimes he went there during lunch breaks, other times he took off work early to meet Blaine there. Every time Kurt texted him Blaine rushed to the hotel, eager to get some of his urges run off.

The weekends, and rare afternoons off, Kurt overcompensated by picking the kids up from school, taking them ice skating or to the movies. He took the whole family to a Christmas market in Queens and at home he let the kids help him cook and bake. In the evenings he made a big deal out of snuggling up with Marley and telling her that he loved her.

It wasn't like he was lying to her. He really did love her.

His naked hours with Blaine were nothing but sex. They didn't even talk anymore. Nothing more than the usual "Hi, how're you doing?"

Kurt was very strict to keep it that way. He didn't want to risk Blaine getting the wrong idea, and he just needed an outlet for his homosexual urges. He still didn't want to think of himself as gay. He was well aware that it was, in fact, the only proper term to describe his sexuality, but whenever he thought about it a ball curled up in his stomach and he felt sick and guilty. As only alternative it was much easier to avoid definitions of any kind.

Blaine never complained. He showed up when Kurt asked him to, rarely saying that he couldn't make it. He always made sure to bring condoms and lube, easily gotten from work-relations. Often he had already stripped when Kurt arrived, and when they were done Kurt got dressed and Blaine was still lying on the bed; naked and lazy.

xXx

The date had reached December 22nd. The snow that had been falling over the past few days had turned sloppy and gray in the streets of New York. People were slowly showing signs of aggravation towards the forced Christmas mood in stores and on street corners in the form of green and red decorations, not to mention the heavy trend of Santa Clauses in such a big scale that it was almost impossible to turn 180 degrees with arms wide open without knocking down a few in the turn.

To say that Christmas eve growing closer didn't show would be a lie. The suicide attempts and domestic disturbances Blaine and his partner was called out for had almost doubled. Narcotic overdoses were also in high level and even a few cases of shooting and stabbing had been called in. Extreme sex games gone wrong were a classic around the holidays and alcohol poisoning as well.

Long story short; Blaine was constantly worn out. He desperately needed a day or two off.

It still didn't keep him from seeing Kurt, though. Lately he had been feeling funny whenever Kurt texted him. At first he thought that he was actually starting to feel guilty, but one day he had been to Sam and his wife's house for dinner where Anna Maria had talked about something she had been doing with Kurt's wife and he didn't really feel any different from it.

The feeling he got when he saw a text from Kurt was more of a rush. Probably the well-known rush from the aspect of "doing something wrong", which often was pinpointed as one of the reasons people found affairs so attractive, but he didn't really think of it as doing something wrong.

Now he was on his way down the hall to the room Kurt had checked into. He had said that it would be the last time before Christmas because he had a lot of things planned with the family. It bummed Blaine out. He had plans to fly home to see his family as well, and most of the days he would be working anyway, but he had gotten so used to seeing Kurt at least every second day that more than a week without seemed like a really long time. Of course he could always go out and hook up with someone, but the great thing about his thing with Kurt was that he didn't need to do that to get laid. They had been doing a bit sexting lately, so Blaine figured that if Kurt was going to spend a few days with the wife he would probably need it.

When he entered the room Kurt was in the bathroom, washing his face. It didn't take Blaine long to get rid of his parka-coat and scarf. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his Dalton Academy hoodie off and started working on his belt. He was already growing hard from the promise of what was about to happen, but he was tired in his entire body.

Kurt was quickly out of the bathroom, working his waist-coat and tie off. As usual he had his clothes folded neatly on the dresser and his shoes lined up perfectly by the wall. It always amused Blaine to see how proper Kurt did everything. No straight guy he had ever seen arranged his stuff like that.

"Alright, Mr. Straight-Man. I've been working since midnight so I am not gonna guarantee for the quality of this," Blaine declared as he pulled his t-shirt off and let it drop to the pile of clothes he had left on the chair in the corner of the room. He walked towards Kurt on heavy feet, scratching the back of his head a little as he enjoyed the feeling of finally being free off clothes.

"Let's see how it goes, then -" Kurt smirked and let his briefs join the rest of his outfit, also folded like they had been clean and ready for the drawer.

They went for the bed and Blaine let his hand go directly towards Kurt's crotch. He wasn't completely erect yet, but it wasn't going to take long for both of them to be rock hard. Kurt's hand was warm and strong as it worked Blaine as well. The adrenaline mixed with the fatigue drifting around Blaine's brain was an explosive cocktail and he quickly found himself moaning sorely from the work of Kurt's hand.

"Alright. Enough, enough," he mumbled between moans. He bucked his shoulder against Kurt's, making Kurt squeeze his hand a little tighter around Blaine's cock before letting go and turning to lie on his front. He bucked his ass upwards, wiggling a bit in invitation.

Blaine fumbled a little around before he found the lube he had dropped on the bed when he arrived. He warmed a bit up over his hands and leaned over Kurt's backside to push a finger directly into his entrance. He was warm and lax, easy to work, so it didn't take long for Blaine to press in a second finger.

"Oh... oh shit," Kurt grumbled into the pillow when Blaine let a third finger enter him.

To watch Kurt writhe under him, completely at his mercy, rutting against the bed and his thigh muscles flexed to the max made Blaine's balls feel strained and his head heavy. He couldn't stop looking at Kurt's naked back splayed out in front of him, pale and perfect with the muscles playing with his movements in the light of the lamp above their heads.

It was too much and Blaine's legs felt wobbly. He slipped his fingers out of Kurt and grabbed the condom waiting on the mattress next to him. He quickly had it rolled down and slicked his length up in a dripping amount of lube before he put a hand around Kurt's one cheek, clenching and opening.

With a hand around the root of his cock Blaine eased his cock into Kurt's hot body. The moment he was sure he was all in he leaned down to rest his hands on the mattress, supporting his body weight on his arms before he slowly started thrusting.

His knees were sliding over the sheet under him, and Kurt was arching his back, creating the perfect angle for Blaine to hit right, making both of them groan with low ranged need. Blaine watched as Kurt let his fingers dig into the bedspread as a drop of sweat rolled down his temple.

"Oh fuck. Fuck... yesss," Kurt moaned, clinging to the pillow under his chest.

Blaine pumped himself deeper and harder. His thighs started trembling from exhaustion, the muscles filling with acid, so he unlocked his elbows to fall down, chest clasping against Kurt's back. Kurt responded with surprised groan, spreading his legs further between Blaine's knees.

They had never done this angle before. Blaine had to support his weight on his forearms and rest his forehead against the back of Kurt's head. Somehow it seemed so intimate when their faces were so close together.

It made him dizzy. The scent of Kurt's shampoo snuck into his nostrils and samba'ed to his brain. The twirling warmth in his belly was back. Not the one that told him that he was about to come, (well, also that) but the one that had started to lurk up on him whenever Kurt texted him or whenever he saw Kurt. The feeling that was spreading through him when he couldn't stop thinking about Kurt before he fell asleep at night.

Kurt's skin was slippery with sweat. So was Blaine's. He was grumbling and groaning into the pillow, and his hole was clenching around Blaine's cock like it was his only source for life.

Fatigue started to take back over, and the drag of his stiff nipples over Kurt's smooth back was only a reminder of how intense the act suddenly had turned. Kurt's whimpers and moans were so close it felt like Kurt was inside his brain, and his hips were rolling slow and deep, soft movement of his pelvis against Kurt's firm cheeks.

For a moment Blaine wondered if he was about to pass out, his pulse feeling sky high. To keep himself going he moved his head, his chin resting on Kurt's shoulder with Kurt's ear rubbing over his sweat-slick face.

Suddenly Kurt let his one hand free of the pillow. He let it slide down their bodies and grasped around Blaine's hip, his fingers holding Blaine in position. What happened next wasn't intentional, though. It couldn't be. Blaine was cradling Kurt's entire body under his own, his arms almost holding around Kurt's torso as he kept his hard dick moving in and out of Kurt's ass. The next he knew Kurt's free hand was clasped around one of Blaine's and his head turned, his lips clasping against Blaine's cheek.

"Yesss. So good. You're so good...Blaine," he breathed out sorely, a whimper under his breath.

The sound was maddening. It made Blaine's hair stand on ends and his nerves twirl. The following whines and whimpers made his abdomens flex and his ass tense. It only took him a few moments before his hips stuttered and he spilled deep in the condom buried inside of Kurt with a whine muffled against Kurt's shoulder.

He didn't wait for his head to stop spinning or for Kurt to get a chance for finishing. Blaine went directly to his knees so he could pull out. He tied a knot on the condom and rushed to the bathroom, Kurt complaining behind him, but he responded by shutting the door and locking it.

The condom made a squelching noise as it dropped to the bathroom tiles under his feet. It had slipped out of his hand. When he bent down to pick it up he realized that his hand was shaking. He knew that couldn't be a good sign.

Quickly, he let the condom find the trash bin and washed his hands. The reflection looking back at him in the mirror was nearly unrecognizable with purple rings and red spots in his eyes. He decided to get some cold water to his face as well, afraid that he wouldn't be able to keep himself conscious long enough to drive back home.

This was wrong. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. Kurt had never said his name during sex before and he had never said Kurt's. It wasn't as much as a deal they had made, more of a silent agreement. They never kissed, never touched intimately – it was practically a business deal. Stuff like this shouldn't happen. Their sex was hard and rough, fun even every now and then. But not intimate. This was crossing every line they had drawn.

With a deep breath, demanding himself to calm down he returned to the room. Kurt was on the bed looking like he was about to pass out. He had semen up his abdomens and his chest, obviously from having worked himself to release after Blaine left.

"Here. Use this as a Christmas present for your fucking wife," Blaine snapped as he grabbed the box of Kleenex from the dresser and threw it at Kurt, missing him by an inch.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked shocked, pulling out a handful of tissues so he could start cleaning himself off.

"Whatever," Blaine grunted and started dragging on his underwear. He could barely stand without swaying and for a moment he considering calling Tina to ask if she could pick him up, but he decided that he wasn't going to listen to her comments about him smelling like sex.

"No. What is your problem?" Kurt snarled as he got to his feet.

He crossed the floor and started to get his own underwear on. He was watching Blaine closely, his eyes lightning and his lips pursed. It was the first time Blaine had seen his face that sharp.

"What I mean is; I am fucking sick of coming running here to you whenever you need a fuck," Blaine declared, zipping his jeans with a sharp sound.

He knew it was low below the belt. To drag Kurt's wife into it. There were just some things that were unacceptable, but right now he didn't care. He couldn't make sense of himself right now, so to be cautious about Kurt's feelings was the last thing on his mind.

"What? This was practically your idea!" Kurt scrapped as he started to shove his shirt down the hem of his slacks.

"My idea? When did I ever volunteer to be your sex toy because you're too scared to tell your wife that you like cock?" Blaine growled at him, voice raised and blood pulsing in his ears.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're such a dick," Kurt shrieked, eyes wide with shock.

"Which is the only reason you keep telling me to come here. Because of my dick," Blaine yelled back.

"You know what; you're free of me. Fuck you!" Kurt screamed at him, grabbed his coat and left the room, the slamming of the door leaving a pounding echo in Blaine's ears.

He fell down to sit on the bed, trying to wrap his mind around what had actually just happened. He buried his face in his hand, rubbing it over before running his fingers through his hair.

"What the fuck am I even doing?" He mumbled to himself before he got to his feet and got his scarf and coat on before leaving the room.

When he walked down the hall he realized that he wasn't feeling how tired he was anymore. All he could feel was itching eyes and tired bones. At least he managed to stay awake on the way home, even though traffic was crazy.

His clothes ended on the bathroom floor as he went directly to shower when he entered the apartment. Tina was home, on the couch reading a book. When he tumbled through the living room area to get to the bathroom she raised her head and asked him something he didn't catch, but he didn't ask. All he could think about was washing the stench of Kurt off him.

He scrubbed his skin over and over again, rubbing the soap into every dent and curve of his body, scratching the loofah so hard he turned red and itchy. When he was finished he only had the energy to dry up casually before pulling on a fresh pair of underwear and a t-shirt.

"I'm gonna go to bed. I can't even see straight," Blaine grunted when he walked through the living room towards his room.

"Yeah, you've worked late right?" Tina asked, putting her book down and resting her chin on the back of the couch to watch him.

"Can we not? I just wanna sleep, alright?" He snapped, feeling bad for taking it out on Tina, but he wasn't ready to deal with anything at the moment.

"What is up with you? You look like you were hit by a car," she remarked and got to her knees to have a better look at her friend. She knew him too well.

"Just leave me alone," he sighed heavily and started walking towards the door that was half-open, only waiting to let him be consumed by his own sheets.

"Blaine, this isn't just your usual tired after a long shift. Did something happen?" Tina asked and got to her feet, quickly standing by his door, stopping him before he disappeared.

"It's nothing. I'm just exhausted. Go back to your book," he said, trying to hide his annoyance, but not quite succeeding in not rolling his eyes at her.

"Oh no. You had a fight with Kurt, didn't you?" She suddenly burst out, sounding like she had just discovered life-changing secret.

"I – what? No! Why would you even..."

"You've started to fall for him, haven't you? Oh Blaine, please don't do this to yourself," Tina whined and squeezed her hand around his wrist.

"You are... crazy. You've lost your marbles. Go read your book, and I'll go to bed, and I will see you later," Blaine said heavily and pushed past her to get to his room. When he closed the door she was still standing on the other side, looking after him, but he couldn't be bothered with that now.

The burgundy sheets were soft and smelled like his suds. He sank deeply into the thick surroundings of his comforter and pillow, letting it envelope and embrace him with a promise of a safe getaway from real life, even if it was just for a few hours.

But sleep didn't come right away the way he had planned it.

He twisted and turned, kicked the comforter off and pulled it back on, turned his pillow, shook it and folded it for better comfort, but nothing helped.

All he could think about was Kurt. The shock on his face when Blaine had attacked him, the lightning in his eyes and the – was it hurt flickering through him?

No. This wouldn't do. He couldn't allow this to suck him in.

It was settled. He wasn't going to meet up with Kurt anymore. He wasn't going to answer anymore of his texts or contact him himself. It was over. He couldn't let him creep under his skin and manipulate his mind and turn him into a pathetic puddle of feelings he did not need or want. He was going to get back to concentrating on work and hanging out with his friends. That shouldn't be a problem.

Because, of course, he didn't have any feelings for Kurt.