Center and clarify, that's what needs to happen right now, Blaine needs to center himself and clarify his emotions. He needs to find his way back to a smidgen of reality and the smallest almost sensible part of himself, and when he finds it he needs to cling on for dear life and possibly try and haul himself back into some shred of rationality.

If only Kurt's sinful rosy lips and tongue and perfect teeth would let him do that though. If only they'd stop their relentless, delicious artful task of bursting most blood vessels underneath the glowing skin of his throat and neck and smooth chest, inviting the tempting flush of reds and purples to surface in doing so.

And Blaine of course, does not want them to, not at all.

Blaine writhes underneath a strong hold, his body now only half clothed clammy and warm between the soft fabric couch cushions below and the unmistakable desirable feel of Kurt's toned chest and muscular thick thighs pressed down against him.

With the wet sticky style long lost Kurt cards his fingers easily in and out of Blaine's hair as his forearms rest on either side of his head propped up against the arm of the couch. Kurt's hips lift lazily up and down, grinding slowly with light moans and soft breathy pants, the denim covering his thighs grazing against the thin cotton of Blaine's sweats, in a rough firm teasing pattern, his knees firmly pressed to either side of Blaine's body, straddling him, owning him, in body and mind.

The kisses had started in the crook of Blaine's neck, soft and gentle and teasing, just below where his five o'clock shadow was starting to show. Kurt had situated them comfortably up on the couch, after Blaine's cards and pens were sent flying along with his mostly empty glass tumbler, socks and slippers pulled away during the scramble. His nose tickled the fine hairs around Blaine's ears and back of his neck as he trailed downwards and around, to the curve and hollow of his throat, he tongued at his Adam's apple and nipped at the hard dents in his collarbone. Every suck and brush and gaze was an exploration of taste and touch, followed by a need for more, more, more.

By the time Kurt had begun to venture down to the hard planes of Blaine's smooth breast plates and pectoral muscles, Blaine's t-shirt had already been rucked up and pulled off carelessly and dropped to the floor below them. Kurt seemed to bare a hint of hesitation after de-shirting Blaine, which was quickly replaced with a desperate grunt, strangely resembling ‘oh what the hell.' Thank god it was Sunday and a lack of buttons and tedious items of clothing seemed to be law.

Kurt is like a man starved of food and water for too long, finally presented with a bounty of mouth watering tastes, all for his taking, delicious to the tongue and sitting pleasantly in his gut. There is a vulnerability to Kurt like this, underneath it all, he's taking from Blaine through touch and taste like he doesn't know when his next meal will be, his next chance, like he still isn't sure, but he wants so much, too much. It's a strangely wonderful feeling. Like the tables have been turned. Kurt, the man who Blaine has been secretly pining for all of this time, the thing that Blaine had resigned himself to thinking would never happen, is happening. Kurt is happening, hard and also incredibly soft and very real, on top of him right now, stripping him of his clothes and thoughts and wrenching every un-surfaced feeling out from him.

Blaine doesn't actually know what to think, so he does what he does best, he feels instead, he feels like he's never felt before.  

Kurt grins devilishly into Blaine's flushed skin with each gasp and groan that escapes him, with each thrust and grind, clearly thoroughly enjoying himself, and seeming to push any otherwise thoughts to one side. Though Blaine knows that somewhere in Kurt's subconscious he will be over-thinking, he will be over-feeling, Blaine just knows Kurt. Blaine's hands loosen from their vice like grip around Kurt's shoulders and skim their way down to the hem of Kurt's shirt, lifting and feeling the slight trailing light fuzz and definitions of his stomach as he rolls the fabric upwards.

God this is too good, too damn good, Blaine could just die happily like this, right now, inching further, the pace quickening. Just as the thoughts form somewhere in the haze of Blaine's mind, Kurt shoots up with a slick gasp against Blaine's mouth as he rips his lips away, sitting straight up on top of Blaine, with more force than intended. Kurt obviously had been having similar thoughts, though their reactions, of course differed.

Blaine tries to lift himself up after Kurt, eyes wide and dark, his hands curling around Kurt's neck, scratching into his hair, pulling him down to meet him halfway. Their lips connect with a clash of teeth, breath panting warm and fast against Kurt's lips and jaw.

“Come back to me, don't stop.”

“B-Blaine, I can't, you don't know-”

“Shh, it's ok, you can, you can, please-” Kurt is drawn back down into Blaine's embrace with multiple kisses, Blaine's leg hooks around his waist, pulling him and keeping him close as Blaine runs his hands up and over his shoulders and back, sliding under his shirt once more with fanned fingers. Blaine can't let this stop, not now, not yet. He can't let Kurt talk himself out of it, not when he was so eager, Blaine thinks that he may know Kurt better than he knows himself. Spending the very best and most part of eight months with somebody can do that.

Kurt groans under the feel of Blaine's hands, his skin tingles under each mould his wide warm palms make over his body, and each trail his skilful fingers set a path on. Blaine grins at the grateful sounds against Kurt's mouth, his teeth sucking at Kurt's lips. Kurt doesn't notice that Blaine has successfully lifted his shirt up and over his shoulders until it is swiped over his head and pulled from his arms with a flourish.

Blaine noses a trail over Kurt's smooth sternum and down smiling as he goes with Kurt planting his hands into his curls, fingers digging, encouraging. He wriggles himself a little lower and flicks his tongue out, circling Kurt's navel and earning a delicious whine from up above.

Kurt is as absolutely beautiful under his clothing as Blaine had eagerly suspected, his torso practically a pristine unblemished canvas, tight and firm and defined with mounds of muscle almost everywhere, yet so soft and pleasurable to touch.

He closes his hands around Kurt's tight hips and gently draws him down as he pushes himself up.

It's a little off-balance and a little messy but god was the intention spot on, their groins align with what feels likes a jolt of lustful power flashing through, and there is no doubt at all about what's going on under the denim and cotton grinding lazily against each other. 

There's another chorus of moans and whimpers and when Kurt feels his own name whispered brokenly into the V cut shape just below his abdomen, he suddenly plants his hands onto Blaine's chest and pins him down and with a deep gaze, eyes like shimmering grey orbs round and hooded, “Ok-ok stop, just stop.”

They pant into the growing silence, eye lids fluttering and each trying to regain breath, and strength and sensibility.

Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it against, he tries again and licks his lips, lifting a hand to his forehead and resting it partially over his eyes. There is something lost about him, pained and unsure but Kurt looks worse, Kurt looks wrecked, like there's an invisible force clinging at his shoulders keeping him away from Blaine.

“I-I thought that you-you wanted-” Kurt laughs a short, harsh breath and slides sideways off of Blaine's body, he keeps his legs hooked over the top of Blaine's as he leans back, making sure that Blaine can't go far so he sits up a little, resting against the arm of the couch.

“God, you don't know the half of it-”

“Well tell me, tell me Kurt, please, you cant just-we can't do this if-”

Kurt looks over at him and pulls his hand down from his face, entwining their fingers and tugging, pulling Blaine up into more of sitting position, his chest just brushing into the swell of Kurt's shoulders. Suddenly aware they are both shirtless and were well on their way to somewhere too dangerous to think about, just minutes ago.

Kurt's voice is rasped and breathy and he swallows just to try and regain some composure, “Blaine I-I'm sorry, I-”

Blaine tugs at his shoulders and twists him around to face him full on, almost chest to chest with legs gathered together awkwardly but clearly uncaring of their half clothed connected states.

“Kurt, just- just tell me now, say that you don't want this and I'll stop, I promise, say the word and I wont come near you again, not like this, we wont talk about it ever again, just-just tell me-”

Kurt eyes flutter close at each breath, hot and ragged, each rise and fall of their bodies, the alcohol from before sits warm and languid in their chests and bellies and the music had died off a short while ago. The silence is heady and daunting and Kurt whimpers when he feels a soft press of moist lips against his, not quite kissing just touching, just there.

“Tell me,” Blaine repeats, a rough whisper, “tell me that you don't want this, that you don't want me.” Blaine knows that he's verging on desperate, he knows he sounds needy, but just can't find it in himself to care. He needs this, he needs to know one way or another, it's gone on for too long, job or no job, this has to end, this has to either develop or evaporate. And god only knows which one Blaine is hopeful for.

Kurt's eyes open and flash and with the greying light from the late winter afternoon outside, Blaine feels like he can lose himself within the watery pools staring back at him, he knows he can spend the rest of his days right here with this sight before him, with the warm softness under his palms and the lingering tingle on his lips.

“Blaine I can't give you what you want-”

“How do you know exactly what I want?”

“Blaine please, I know you, I know that you-”

“But you do want me, don't you? I know that you do.” Kurt groans as he feels his resolve begin to slip and slide away, all of his focus, everything he has held on to for so long slides out of his reach and into the hands of another person, but it's not just another person, its one Mr Blaine Anderson. His lips move against Blaine's without permission, and Blaine moans breathily in return. “I won't ask, I won't take anything from you that you don't want to give me.”

Kurt's eyes flutter open and closed as he brushes his nose alongside Blaine's, his fingers tentatively close around Blaine's jaw, nails scraping through the shadow of stubble. Blaine turns his chin and kisses at his finger tips, nipping at the pads.

“No promises ok?” Blaine whispers against them, their eyes locking on to each others dark and deep and almost dangerous. Kurt is going to lose it, Kurt is about to make either the best or worst decision of his life. “Don't think about it. Just let me, you need me, I can help, let me help you Kurt.”

And that's it, words that Kurt didn't know he needed to hear, fill his ears and senses, they pour through him inside out and settle deep down. And whether it has been fully acknowledged yet or not, those words, those feelings are not just meant for this moment, they travel further beyond what's happening between them in this instant.  The sound Kurt makes is breathy and whimpering and a rumble short of a growl.

“God, touch me, touch me Blaine, now.” And Blaine does not need asked twice.

He slides his legs out from underneath Kurt and straddles his hips, his fingers working at the belt buckle whilst he mouths at the underside of Kurt's jaw slow and careful, his body thrumming almost vibrating with pleasure and excitement and pent up tension, and even a little nerve's.

Blaine shuffles his knees and slides backwards and down off of the couch, kneeling before Kurt on the floor. His fingers pull Kurt's jeans carefully down and away from his body painfully slowly, revealing a tight pair of black Emporio Armani boxers with a white waistband, barely covering Kurt's impressive groin area. The sight does absolutely nothing to help calm the already tented situation going on in Blaine's sweat pants.

Blaine kisses Kurt's inner ankles in soft circles as he wriggles the denim free and throws them away behind him, only then does he remember Jester being around when he hears the quiet answering hiss. Blaine quickly looks to the side to find the little cat standing on all fours beside the pile of Kurt's discarded denim jeans, his furry backside and tail up in the air swishing angrily with a look that is half annoyed/half fairly interested, before he strolls off around the back of the couch and out of sight. Blaine would laugh if it wasn't for the fact that there are far more important, less funnier things to concentrate on right now.

His lips trail up Kurt's calves, he caresses the sensitive underside of his knees and tickles the outer sides of his thighs lightly as his mouth catches up, tongue trailing, marking. When he reaches the hem of black tight fabric, Blaine finally tears his eyes away from the expanse of creamy skin before him. He finds that it's within his best efforts to avoid direct contact with the most obvious bulge straining the front of the thin dark fabric, and instead looks up to find Kurt staring back down at him.

Blaine's mouth goes dry and his palms clammy, he feels likes he could explode under the sizzling heat of Kurt's darkening gaze, eyes like a blue, silvery liquid, pupils dilated, almost disappearing under fluttering long lashes and heavy lids. Blaine exhales a loud shuddering breath as his fingers skirt lightly up the outsides of Kurt's thighs, resting on his hips, slowly drumming into his skin. He waits, he silently asks.

Seconds feel like hours, Blaine can only imagine what he must look like to Kurt down there, sitting at his feet, his chest thumping with each breath, eyes dark like golden lava and big in his flushed face, his hair hand-messed, by Kurt's hands though, Kurt's hands did that to him, Kurt's mouth, those perfect lips and set of teeth left marks on his skin. The memory forever engraved in Blaine's mind.

Blaine has to take another calming breath when Kurt finally gives him a very subtle but very clear nod of his head, finally deciding and determined. Those eyes that could cause Blaine to buckle if he wasn't already kneeling, flash with want and need and the barest hint of a smile appears. Kurt's hands stretch downwards to curl around Blaine's neck and jaw when Blaine digs his fingers underneath the waistband of Kurt's boxers and achingly slowly, inches them lower and lower.

Kurt's cock is sprung free and stands up to attention, curling in towards his belly button, as Blaine curls the fabric downwards and off with a groan of approval. They pool onto to floor by Blaine's knee, he sighs breathlessly and doesn't know what to do first, there are too many things that he wants, that he needs. His eyes are already locking on to the flushed length just inches away, his fingers already itching to touch, to take. He is allowed, Blaine is allowed to do this, to have Kurt like this. He feel likes he has acceptance unto the pearly gates.

He places his warm palms, fingers spread wide back onto Kurt's thighs and rubs up and down gently as he lowers his head and leans in. He places the first shaky kiss to the very bottom of the base of Kurt's cock, feather light, nose nudging upwards, keeping him still and straight for his lips. Kurt lets out the most delicious whimper and Blaine grins slightly at the corner of his mouth as he continues his trail of kisses right up to the tip, closed lipped becoming wet and open mouthed, moans escaping with each exhale.

Kurt is long and slender here, thick at the base with a fat pinkish head, his balls heavy and firm against Blaine's chin, perfectly exquisite. Blaine's tongue flicks out to swirl around Kurt's head, the bitter/sweet tang filling his senses, he opens his mouth wide and drags it into his mouth as his moves his hands, using one to grip Kurt's shaft firmly between his fingers and the other to cup underneath, teasing the sensitive area between Kurt's cock and ball sack and then lower.

Kurt moans and whines up above, shifting against the fabric, his hands and fingers tangling into dark riotous curls to keep him steady, to keep him busy and not dissolving into a boneless heap under Blaine's tongue and hands. Blaine goes down deeper, lower, his tongue absolutely tearing Kurt up from inside out, reducing him to just a pooling heat and babbling syllables.

God this isn't going to last, Blaine is swallowing him up warm and sure, hard and fast, tongue gliding with his throat, his hands are just causing the right amount of pressure and Kurt is not going to last much longer at all. His fingers dig in further, twining and tugging gently into Blaine's hair, as he tries to pull his head up.

Their eyes meet, dark and feral like a flash of thunder and Blaine gasps gorgeously as he lets Kurt go with a slick ‘pop', lips parted and red.

It's the sexiest thing that Kurt has ever seen, and that's without the sound effects, his cock throbs hard in Blaine's hand still curled around him, keeping him in place and Kurt can barely pull the words from the throat.

“I'm close- I'm, god it's, you're-” Blaine smirks as he lowers his head, his tongue peeking out, sliding back into place along Kurt's pulsing length.

“It's ok, you can, I want you to.” He kisses around the head and whispers into the salty slick slit whilst he licks at the pre-come gathering there, “Come for me Kurt, come on.” He closes his lips around Kurt once more and glides down again, pushing him into his throat, hot and tight and slick, Kurt groans but the rumbling sounds turn to breath and crushed air as Blaine's hand tightens and strokes with each perfectly timed bob of his head.

There is an unspoken bond of loyalty and trust there, a conversation of protection and common sense that doesn't seem to be needed between them. It's too far past that point, they are beyond lies and tip-toeing around each other. To put it bluntly if a condom or a conversation of that variety was needed, then one would have been had.

“B-Blaine, god Blaine, I'm, yes I'm, please-” The sounds of Kurt panting his name, the feel of him thrusting his hips up into his touch, is almost Blaine's undoing alone. He can feel his own cock hard and wet and ready and desperate to be out, to join in the party too, nudging at the thin seem of his sweats.

Sunday has also become known as ‘commando day' in Blaine's head, especially when Santana had started making a habit of turning up unannounced knowing that Blaine was often forgetful of his bedroom lock and key, and pulling on the nearest pair of pants became the most important thing first and foremost.

Thank goodness for the dark shade of grey pair of pants he had opted for this morning, because right now there is definitely a fourteen year old situation going on down there. However with the way he can feel Kurt loosening and coming undone in his mouth, he gets the feeling Kurt wouldn't care so much about the possibly telling smudges on his crotch.

Blaine can't remember the last time he did this, was like this with somebody, this close and personal and actually felt completely confident and totally awesome and so utterly turned on by it all, at the same time. Past occasional boyfriends he'd had were mere conveniences if he was to be completely honest, and whenever he'd venture to a bar in his younger years to ‘look', he'd get so wasted that even his own hand wasn't worthy at the end of the night.

This right now, with Kurt, is something that's verging on dangerous, something he knows he won't be willing to give up or forget anytime soon, something he is going to want again and again, over and over, and Kurt hasn't even touched him yet, not down there.

Blaine hasn't even allowed the fact that Kurt is indeed still his boss, no matter how far they go and for how long. Kurt will always be his employer, so long as he doesn't fire his ass, which Blaine also has to not give a conscious thought to at this moment. Blaine doesn't let it filter through yet, it's pushed to the very back of everything and all that is important right now is the now, now, now and more, more, more. Everything is just Kurt, Kurt, Kurt and oh my fucking god.

Blaine bobs back up a fraction careful of his teeth but allowing a light graze, knowing how teasingly delicious it can feel. He widens his lips and mouths around Kurt, he didn't even know he could do this, Kurt has just created a whole new porno alto ego within him. “Yes, come on that's it, let me feel it, let me feel you, come for me.”

Blaine glides back down, his hand meeting his lips and tongue, his fingers cupping and curling underneath and Kurt's hips meeting each movement, the air around and between them thick and heady. The lingering traces of light cologne and malt liquor are still in their noses and on their tongues and it all melds together perfectly.   

“Blaine, B-Blaine god, p-please-” Blaine pushes down in one final slide, his nose pressing into Kurt's neatly trimmed pubic hair just below his tight abdomen, as his throat opens and welcomes Kurt's long pulsing length all of the way down, his fist clenches up and down and his fingers tickle and squeeze Kurt's balls with one hand.

Kurt cries out above him high and breathy and comes, he come so hard, filling Blaine's mouth with each push, trickling down into his throat, gush after gush. Blaine plants a hand down onto Kurt's hip to stop him from thrusting up too much, he licks and sucks and eases him through his release. Kurt chants Blaine's name breathlessly as Blaine moans out little sounds of encouragement in response.

The whole thing unbelievably sensuous and glorious.

Blaine's knees are sore, his jaw aches and his cock is throbbing to the point of almost pain with a wave of pleasure, he swallows everything that Kurt has given him and finally pulls away messily when Kurt starts to calm and still. He rests his chin against Kurt's thigh and kisses his hip bone as he stares up at Kurt face.

Kurt has his eyes closed, head tilted backwards against the back of the couch, cheeks flushed and lips parted with his fingers still resting in Blaine's hair as his breathing returns to normal with short pants. Blaine smiles up at the sight, he smiles at the fact that he has done this, he has made Kurt look this way, he has been able, been honoured to earn Kurt's trust to allow him to see Kurt this way, to experience him so open and raw and fucking beautiful, even more than usual.

Kurt finally opens his eyes and dips his chin, clear and blue and breathtaking as Blaine continues to stare up at him, placing kisses along the edge of his thighs and groin, his hips and along the crease of his belly where his cock is softening. Kurt's lips part and his fingers drag down the sides of Blaine's face, his neck and trace the muscles in his chest, drawing circles around Blaine's nipples and the fading marks his own teeth had left there earlier.

With his bout of confidence still intact, drawing strength from Kurt's silent watchful gaze, and his cock still reminding him that it is still there and ready as ever, Blaine slowly rises off of his knees. He doesn't wait, he cant, he fingers the waistline of his sweats and dips underneath, as he crawls up onto the couch, with his knees on either side of Kurt's, he pulls his own pants over the mound of his ass and down past his thighs.

Blaine startles when Kurt leans forward quickly taking his lips between his own and his hands take over, pulling the grey cotton down and off of Blaine's bent legs with a smooth tug. Kurt isn't even fazed by Blaine's lack of underwear as his cock excitedly springs free, bouncing to life. Kurt's been fairly sure of Blaine's ‘Relaxed Sunday Tendencies' for a while now, he even lets out an appreciative moan upon realizing his suspicions were correct.

They kiss and kiss, hard and fast, gasping and teeth clashing, Kurt's fingers dig into the soft flesh of Blaine's ass as Blaine moans into his mouth and pulls himself up and in, grasping both sides of Kurt's face and kissing him like he needs it, just like he needs oxygen.

“K-Kurt, Kurt I need, I need-” Kurt can taste his words, can feel them in his mouth, can feel the need and the want and that's without Blaine's protruding cock, flushed and thick, so gorgeously thick, curling into his stomach between them.

“I know, I know, relax, I've got you.” Kurt slides a hand up and around and closes his fingers around Blaine's cock as Blaine moans and bites his lip into the next kiss in return.

“Ffffuuuck yes, yes, damn.” Kurt grins, he's never heard Blaine swear, not like that, even if it is low and rough and quiet, he's never seen Blaine so undone, so wildly gorgeous and he craves for more, to see and hear and have and take more from him. He tightens his fist and thrills in the feel of their naked bodies pressed together, hot and damp, skin on skin, flesh on flesh, and its fucking perfect.  

The friction is hot and dry and there is no need for build up or lubrication of any sort, Blaine is already there. Kurt spreads the pearly beads of pre-come up and over the tip and down the length, his hand that is still groping the globe of Blaine's ass starts to wander, fingers spreading and lowering as Blaine writhes in Kurt's lap.

Kurt lets a lone a finger break formation and dip into the curve, his finger tip brushes against the dry, rough feel of Blaine's clenching hole and he rubs back and forth. Blaine shivers at the touch, he groans against Kurt's lips before ducking his head and panting wetly into Kurt's shoulder as Kurt's hands around his cock pulls him closer and closer, and his finger teases his hole into delicious quivering temptation.

“K-Kurt, Kurt god, that's,” Kurt nips Blaine's earlobe as he pushes further, his finger tip just breaking the entrance. “I-I'm, fuck, there-there-” Blaine comes before he gets to finish, he pants and gasps and mouths gritty, juicy words into Kurt's skin.

Kurt swirls his tongue around the stretch of surrounding skin as he growls quietly into Blaine's ear whilst the man bobs up and down in his lap, shooting hot ropes of thick creamy liquid over their stomachs and chests.

“Shit.” Blaine brokenly mutters into Kurt's skin as his body stills and his cock starts to back down and soften, against Kurt's, though he did feel a twinge of life from his already spent cock once or twice. Kurt hums in assent, his hands coming to rest lightly at Blaine's sides. Blaine lifts his head and faces Kurt, their noses just a few inches away, their breath catching and calming in unison as they look into each others eyes deeply.

Blaine's eyes warm and liquid-like roam Kurt's face, he places his hands on top of Kurt's at his sides and lets his gaze drop to Kurt's full lips and back up. He does this a couple of times and it's a question, a plea, like he doesn't know if he needs permission. He leans in, lips pursed and looks back up one more time, when Kurt only looks back at him with clouded eyes and features so calm and defined, Blaine closes the gap and kisses him hard on the lips.

“Is-was that, are you-”

“Yes, Blaine. Yes it was ok, it was fucking spectacular actually.” Kurt smirks against his lips and Blaine can feel his urge to roll his eyes at him. Blaine grins and nods as he kisses him again, whispering into the corner of his mouth.

“Good, I thought so too.” They sit like that, lightly smiling and sharing dotted kisses and lingering glances for a short while until the combined come and sweat cools and dries on their bodies and only then does the ‘holy fucking shit' realization actually seems to dawn on them both.

Blaine shuffles and winces, there is only one way out of this situation now and it is not going to be unashamedly or without embarrassment or extreme awkwardness, it just isn't. He bites his lip and turns his head to eye his pants lying on the floor below and Kurt's trail of clothes around them.

Kurt seems to notice and Blaine feels his body tense underneath him as his hands unfold from their tangle and begin to flex out and in.

Blaine can feel his throat tighten, and his eyelids prick hot and wet. Oh god, oh no, what has he done, this is going to be so awful, Kurt is going to hate him, Kurt is going to resent him for this, he is going to be like a fucking iceberg, Jester is going to be homeless for Christmas-

Blaine jumps at the light swat on his ass and wriggle of Kurt's thighs underneath him, he whips his eyes back to Kurt to find him watching him with deep shifting eyes, and his jaw slightly clenched and tight.

Old Kurt, boss Kurt is indeed back, but, but, just hiding under the tight muscle of a perfectly sculpted cheek, is the most adorable dimple trying to go unseen, caused by the slight upturn of Kurt's lip that refuses to back down. His eyes are dancing under the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights and the darkening grey of the early evening and Blaine can see that in fact, his Kurt is still there, he hasn't left him, yet.

“Let's go get cleaned up and have dinner. Meet me back here.” Kurt says as calmly and levelled as his breathless voice is allowing, and Blaine could just kiss him all over and start the whole past half hour all over again.

“Ok.”

*

They shower and change, separately, in their respective rooms. The whole process of untangling and redressing to a certain, appropriate extent and heading off to their bedrooms which were both in the same direction, was of course as awkward and ridiculous as Blaine thought it would be, there was no getting away from it. And Blaine doesn't even think twice about throwing his socks into his waste basket, the ones that may or may not have been used during project quick clean up.

Blaine had returned to his room to find Jes perched on the end of his bed, sitting proudly with his tail wrapped around him and what Blaine would swear on his own life was an actual smirk on his tiny whiskered face. That cat fucking knew. Blaine laughed and nodded to himself as if answering the unspoken question in his pet's eyes and headed into his bathroom.

The bathroom door re-opens and he emerges not five minutes later in a swirl of steam, a pair of grey boxers clad to his thighs and rubs his hair dry. He ducks into his closet and pulls on a pair of form fitting jeans, a white tank top and a dove grey v-cut sweater dotted with blacks and beiges. He toes on a pair of slippers waiting by his bedroom door and pulls it open by the handle, he honestly can't wait to get back down there.

Whilst ignoring the plea in Jes's eyes for leaving him again, he steps over the threshold only to instantly back pedal back inside and spin towards the mirror hanging on the opposite side of the wall.

“Damn it.” He mutters under his breath as he fingers hurriedly at his drying curls, he leans down and sideways to open a drawer in his nearby dresser and fishes out his tube of Liquid Steel, coming to straighten back up in view of the mirror and his eyes meeting with a pair of very familiar ones in the open door way behind him.

“Why do you do that?” Kurt looks as gorgeous as ever as he steps towards him, his head tilted and eyes watching him, glimmering mischievously. He's wearing a similar outfit, denim and winter knitwear, white socks on his feet as he pads closer carefully, with his hair messily but sexily so swept back.

“What?” Blaine asks with wide eyes, his fingers sticky with product half way to his head. Kurt comes to stand behind him and nods down to his hand through the reflection. Kurt smells of mint shower gel and expensive aftershave and his skin is glowing. Blaine's eyes swirl with liquid colour around two black orbs, melting in his face as he watches Kurt with a look of longing, he didn't give permission to show.  

“That. Why do you stick your hair to your scalp?” Kurt's asks softly with a tinge of amusement. Blaine tries to look affronted but with the way their gazes are boring into each others through the reflective glass, Blaine can do nothing but feel his pulse quicken.

“Do-do you not like-” His breath catches and words falter when Kurt brings his arm around him to the front and brushes two of his fingertips against the tiny slick puddle between Blaine's fingers.

“Oh no don't get me wrong, I do like yes, there's nothing better than a man with a care for hair, but why don't you do something like this-” Kurt smiles as he slides his fingers thoughtlessly into Blaine's hair, and it's all Blaine can do to stand stock still and thrill in the feeling.

Blaine watches as Kurt moulds his curls into little flicks, sticking up this way and that off of his face and styled just lightly to the side. He wipes the access off onto his jeans. It looks good, very good, if Blaine is honest, and Kurt looks very proud of his work as he steps back and eyes it carefully before returning his gaze back to Blaine's in the glass.

“Isn't it-um I mean I love it, you're really great-at that, thank you but isn't that a little too casual?” Kurt smiles lightly and nudges his shoulder into the back of Blaine's.

“It's Sunday right? It's Christmas, so lets…just be casual.” Their eyes positively shine at each others and Kurt smiles so innocently at him that Blaine feels the breath whoosh from his lungs, there is something else there behind that look and that grin, Blaine can feel it. He turns around and instead of stepping back to give Blaine space to move, Kurt stays right where he is, they're practically chest to chest.

“Casual?” Kurt nods slowly, his stormy eyes search Blaine's face. “And you're still talking about the hair style?”

After a beat Kurt slowly shakes his head, lips pursed, slowly turning into a lower lip-bite, eyes still focused. “Not necessarily, let's just, I-you know that-” Blaine holds a finger up to Kurt's lips shushing him effectively.

“I know, I meant what I said.” Blaine's stomach drops, but he refuses to give in to the emotion, as crazy and stupid as he might be, if this is all Kurt can give him, then this is all he will take. He can't give up everything they've shared, he wants anything that he can have with Kurt, and he will deal with his own stupid feelings later.

“So Christmas?” He adds with a hint of a cheerier tone though his voice is no more than a rasp.

Kurt nibbles his finger tip and nods, “Yes, let's just have- let's just enjoy Christmas…together, and then…”

“And then?” Blaine tries to mask the spark of hope from his question.

“And then… I guess we'll see, I mean you are contracted right?” Kurt tries as his eyes light with humour and his cheeks split with a wide smile. Blaine drops his finger to Kurt's collar and hooks it underneath, tugging his face closer.

“Oh yeah, until further notice or something like that right?” Blaine breathes, opened mouthed, his mischievous eyes dropping to Kurt's parted lips, which are now lazily barely brushing against his.

Blaine knows that he should care about what he is essentially setting himself up for here, but the problem is right now, that he trusts more than he cares. He trusts Kurt not to break his heart even though the man isn't even aware that it's even on the line.

Kurt smiles and Blaine's worries and concerns are carried away helplessly, Kurt takes Blaine's face in his hands and holds him still and firm, he looks at him with a look that makes Blaine feel strangely safe and also unsure. Kurt is unfathomable in this moment and that has never happened before, Blaine has always been able to work him out in some way, but there is something about this look, about his hold on Blaine that is silently suggesting ‘yes until further notice, but maybe also not.”

“Something like that.” Kurt finally says and without quite kissing him completely, he brushes their lips together and hooks his thumbs into Blaine's belt loops on his jeans as he backs them out of the room.

Something, Blaine ponders, something is better than nothing.