“Say it again.”

Kurt smiled down at Blaine, spread out under him in the bed. He leaned close and pressed his lips against Blaine's ear.

“Six days,” he whispered.

Blaine moaned.

“Every week.”

Blaine's moan stuttered into a whine.

“For two months.”

“Oh fuck!”

Kurt rolled off Blaine and onto his back. He really tried to suppress his laughter, but he was pretty sure the shaking mattress gave him away.

“I have never loved summer vacation more than I do right now,” Blaine said.

“You should really be loving Carole. She's the one who got my dad to go along with it.”

“I fucking love Carole.”

Kurt's laugh escaped his chest and bubbled into the air between them.

“What?” Blaine asked.

“You. You don't usually curse this much.”

Blaine rolled onto an elbow so he could look at Kurt. “You don't understand. It's like I'm watching porn, and it's my most perfect, dirty fantasy, except it's real and I'm living it.”

“Summer vacation is your most perfect dirty fantasy?”

“No, silly. Time. Time with you. God, so much time.”

Strange as it seemed, Kurt could hear it in Blaine's voice – the soft drift, the stretch of vowels, the loosening of consonants that was usually associated with conversations about rules or paddles or how long his next stretch of denial might be. It was most definitely weird, but that wasn't going to stop him from taking advantage of it. He pushed himself up, flipped Blaine onto his back and straddled him, trapping his hands above his head and settling his ass on top of Blaine's dick, which was indeed starting to harden. He pinned Blaine with his eyes – his attempts to look dangerously sexy were getting better if Blaine's reaction was anything to go by – and pulled his lips into his best evil smile.

“We can have sex . . . and cuddle.”

“Fuck yes,” Blaine breathed.

“We can take showers together when we're not even dirty. Just because we want to.”

Blaine moaned.

“We can wipe out the DVR queue and then be forced to watch live television.”

“Oh, God, don't stop.”

Kurt leaned down and stroked his tongue along Blaine's stubbly jaw then teased their lips together. “We can leave the apartment.”

Blaine whined and thrust his now-fully-hard cock against Kurt's ass. Kurt kept moving, mouthing down Blaine's neck and taking nips at the tender skin there.

“We can go to the movies,” he said between bites. “And not just good movies. We can see all the good movies and then go to the bad ones.”

“Crap, you're going to make me come.”

“We can go to Breadstix and eat all the breadsticks.”

“I'm serious, stop!” Blaine bucked up to push Kurt off, but Kurt was already diving back to his side of the bed to muffle his laughter in his pillow. Blaine must have truly been serious, because he had to take a few calming breaths before he said, “Are you laughing at me?” in a tone of injured dignity that only made Kurt laugh harder.

“You are! You're laughing. I can't believe it.”

Kurt had to pull his face out of the pillow so he could breathe. Blaine glared at him, mouth twisted in an exaggerated pout.

“I can't believe you're shaming my summer vacation kink.”

Kurt swallowed his mirth just enough to grab Blaine and pull him down until their chests were pressed together. “Never. I love all your kinks. Now kiss me you idiot. And if you're very, very good I'll let you blow me while I recite all the recipes I'm going to make for us this summer.”