“It was all my fault.”

“No, Blaine –”

“Yes. It was my idea in the first place.”

Kurt tightened his arm around Blaine's blanket-wrapped shoulders and pulled him closer, until he was almost reclining on the couch, his head against Kurt's chest. He was still a little dazed – simultaneously overwhelmed and oddly numb. “I was the one who put the scarf over the lamp,” he said.

“But we do that all the time. I'm the one who wanted to use the taper instead of the tea lights. Just because its hotter. It was stupid.”

“You were cuffed to the bed, Blaine. How can any of it be your fault?”

A clatter of thumping and bumping from their bedroom made Kurt wince and he was glad Blaine couldn't see his face.

“All your clothes . . .”

Kurt swallowed. That was unquestionably a blow. “Well, most of them were in the other closet. I only kept –”

“Your favorites! You only kept your favorites in our bedroom.” Blaine sat up, clutching the blanket tighter around himself, and stared at Kurt with such dismay that Kurt couldn't help smiling at him.

“Don't do that. I'll be fine. The Pieta fall line will be done any day, so I'll find new favorites.”

“And our toys! Dear God, all the gear . . .”

“Most of that can probably be salvaged. And we can replace what can't.”

Blaine's head fell back on Kurt's shoulder. “You should be mad at me.”

“I told you –”

“You should punish me. I think I'd feel so much better if you punished me.”

“I'm not going to punish you for an accident that was much more my fault than it was yours. The important thing is that all the safety latches worked and we're both okay.”

More clattering, and then three firefighters in full gear clumped into view. Kurt couldn't suppress a shudder at the thought of what those heavy black boots had done to the runner in the hallway. The last man in line nodded to Kurt and Blaine where they huddled on the couch. “It's all out. Mostly just smoke damage anyhow. And stains from the extinguisher. Good work with that, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said with an attempt at a smile that he suspected came out as more of a grimace.

“The mattress will have to be replaced though. You can't sleep there tonight.”

Blaine turned his face into Kurt's shoulder.

“We can't thank you enough,” Kurt said. He nudged Blaine.

“Right. Thank you,” Blaine said without looking up.

Kurt held him while the three firefighters and all their gear made their noisy exit. “Well I guess we're sleeping in the guest room for the time being,” he said once the door had closed behind them.

Blaine groaned. “Please punish me. I'll feel so much better.”

Kurt shifted so that Blaine was forced to sit up and look at him. He couldn't deny that the thought of punishing Blaine was attractive. It would make Blaine feel better, he was sure. And when he thought about the things in their closet that even now must be wilting from the heat and reeking of smoke, he realized that a nice vigorous beating with the accompanying sobbing and begging for mercy would probably make him feel a lot better too. But it would also be wrong. Yes. Definitely wrong. “I told you I'm not punishing you for an accident. I don't think this is something we should deal with like that. I think we have to both accept responsibility and cope in . . . normal ways. Non-sexual ways. A bad thing happened, it sucks, now let's focus on fixing it.”

Blaine hung his head in what Kurt took for capitulation. But then he said, “The blonde firefighter looked at my ass.”

“What?!”

“When they first got here. In all the excitement I think my blanket slipped at one point and he most definitely looked at my ass. And I'm pretty sure he liked what he saw.”

“Blaine! Why didn't you think to grab some pants?”

“Well, the bedroom was on fire.” Blaine tilted his head and looked up at Kurt through his lashes in that way that he knew Kurt could never resist. “Of course, I could have been more careful. I was so distracted and I wasn't paying attention and someone else got to see what's yours. And who knows what else he might have seen? I mean, it was all so confusing and I could have –”

Kurt pulled Blaine by the back of the neck into a swift, hard kiss. “Get your ass on your knees in that guest room now.”

“Oh, thank God,” Blaine breathed. He jumped up and made his retreat, letting the blanket fall and wiggling his bare ass brazenly as he went.

It was blatant manipulation, Kurt knew. The blanket hadn't slipped. Kurt had been so fixated on Blaine's safety and reaction that something like that could never have escaped his notice. But it wasn't like either of them would be getting any sleep soon, and it would make them both feel better. And he could tell himself he was punishing Blaine for the manipulation. Yes. That would certainly make it okay.

And if a few of the strokes were really on behalf of his ruined Armani blazer and vintage silk ties, well, no one would ever know.