Kurt hums along to himself as he potters about his flat, his ear buds playing Disney's Hercules the musical's sound track into his ears as he goes. There's an old cloth hanging out of his back pocket and a duster gripped in his hand as he whips around, imitating steps from the stage performance by memory.

It's his monthly Sunday afternoon cleaning session, when he takes precious time out of his day off and sees to the chores that have been neglected for other much better and exciting things.  

Eventually he ends up in his bedroom, plugging in the vacuum cleaner and Hoovers down his Artisan rug. Lastly stepping up to the far back wall, he fans the feather duster over and up and back again, in large sweeping circles. He makes sure to catch all the dust bunnies as they fall down from the wooden edge of a wonkily positioned hanging picture frame.

Kurt straightens the frame, stands back and grins to himself, a delicious stream of memories flooding his brain, all mental images and aching muscle memories playing back to back in the forefront of his mind.

It's been a little over a month now since that night, that day when he collided into a bashful, bumbling, musical nerd of a beauty which is Blaine Anderson. Blaine a fellow Ohioan, also living and working in London, England. Blaine who has now become a close friend, and better yet fantastic lover and the most loveliest, sweetest boyfriend that Kurt could ever dream of.

Kurt runs his fingers over the magnolia rough painted patterns of his wall, he can still feel the tingle over his back and shoulders, remembers the feel of Blaine's mouth and hands pressed all over him, up against this very wall.      

*

“Bla-oh my god-Blaine, it's supposed to be your-Jesus-your turn now.”

Blaine has Kurt pinned up against the far bedroom wall, hands above his head held firmly at the wrists by one of Blaine's hands and his other hand securing one of Kurt's gloriously long legs around his waist.

Blaine ruts against him, his tongue and teeth relentless, marking him from just under his chin to his collarbone.

“Believe me,” Blaine rasps, and god if that's not the sexiest sound Kurt has ever had hushed into his ear whilst naked and sated, well on his way to a round two. “I'm getting out of this more than what you think. You're incredible.”

He's not lying, Kurt can feel how hard Blaine is through the thin fabric of the pajama pants for some reason he's still wearing- pressed up against his stomach and thigh. Blaine pushes himself rhythmically against Kurt, and Kurt can feel himself slowly start to arouse to semi-fullness again.

Kurt hasn't felt this turned on in years. He didn't know he still had this amount of stamina left in him, this certainly hasn't happened before with anyone else he has slept with whilst on the upper scale of twenty five years of age.

Kurt moans rather throatily, it's hard to keep the sound swallowed down and Blaine grins into his skin.

“Just-just let me go get another condom, for-for you, and then I can help-”

“Kurt-” Blaine interrupts, and oh god his name rolling off of Blaine's tongue whilst they're in the middle of this, is like hearing his very own sound-bite of heaven. And then-

Blaine steps back, those green-honey-like eyes now clouded darkly, like hot liquid condensed, blinking back at him.

Blaine pushes his thumbs under the waistline of Kurt's borrowed pajama pants and teasingly slowly starts to slide them down his hips, and to Kurt's surprised, delighted sexy growl of a gasp discovers that he's gone commando. Blaine's cock springs free, hard and thick and curling at the tip, bouncing back off of his stomach, already leaking a little.

Blaine takes himself in his own hand and Kurt's mouth actually waters.

“Look Kurt,” He whispers, “I don't need you to do or go get anything, look at what you're already doing to me.” Blaine's voice is low, deep and gruff and oh it's like he's a completely different person to the bashful babbler who was sitting on Kurt's couch earlier that day.  

Before Kurt can even think coherently enough, he's pushed back up against the wall again, arms and hands restrained in the sexiest of ways, his leg hoisted up once again around Blaine's hip and their cocks meeting with mutual cries of ecstasy, bare flesh on flesh, rubbing and rutting deliciously.

“Just wanna feel you, that's all.” Blaine groans, mouth hanging open, eyes squeezing shut and then snapping open again. “I hope that's ok.” He thrusts, bring their groins joined together again and then starts grinding fractionally up and down.

“Oh Jesus,” Kurt pants, now miraculously fully hard again, “Yeah, so ok. So, so ok. Yeah right there, Blaine.” He gasps, pulling up on to his toes, circling his hips to get the angle just right.

There's a soft scraping noise and Blaine lets out a low chuckle, tipping his chin upwards to look at something above Kurt's head. Just as Kurt feels the soft cool brush of wood against his finger tips, he realizes that they've knocked his framed picture of a lovely calm ocean sunset- off of its hook.

Kurt huffs out a laugh as they do nothing about the little mishap apart from wiggle slightly to the side out of the way. In that time Blaine pulls back just enough to look at Kurt deeply, a soft playful smile gracing his beautiful features and he moves into press a sweet kiss to Kurt's lips, then they're off again.

Kurt balances his arms and hands on Blaine's broad shoulders, glides his fingers through his sweaty curls, and lets his head fall back against the wall behind with a soft thunk- now clear of hanging objects.

Blaine brackets Kurt's body, his hands pressed to the wall at Kurt's sides and rocks forward, harder and faster with each thrust, until he starts whining, sounding almost desperate.

The room is like a sticky hot steaming meld of oh's and ah's, slick gasps and shuddering breaths. Before long Blaine moves his hands to Kurt's hips, and clings on for what seems like dear life, bending his knees, pushing up on the balls of his feet and grinding his hips and groin rhythmically.

Kurt manages a glance downwards, sneaks a peek at Blaine's tight stomach as it rolls, the tiny droplets of sweat forming and cascading down Blaine's chest as it heaves, the tight bulge of his thighs and legs and arms as they work to keep them both upright, powering through.

“Oh-ah, yeah Kurt, that's it-”

“Yes, Blaine yes.”

Blaine's hips stutter out of rhythm in tiny jolts and Kurt just knows exactly what that means. The thick head of his own cock bobs up and nudges the underside of Blaine's, causing Blaine to yell almost breathlessly.

Kurt has just enough time to reach down, grab Blaine tightly within his fist and curls his fingers up and down just on time to catch the first spurt of Blaine coming in long white ropes over his hand and both of their stomachs and thighs.

“Ugghh, K-Kurt, mmm-” Blaine babbles, his hips still churning as the last drops of warm thick liquid seep out of him, slowly bubbling to a stop.

Blaine drops his head, pants into Kurt's neck and shoulder, mouthing almost soundless words of juicy reverence, licking and sucking teasing relentless kisses into his damp pale skin flushed a rosy pink. He blindly reaches out, his fingers seeking and curling around Kurt's cock, throbbing and pulsing and leaking, needing and wanting-again.

“Could-can you-” Blaine starts to ask, his voice deep and low, sleep and sated yet still pitched with excited interest.

“Yes, yes, please.” Kurt interrupts, jerks forward, pushing himself up into Blaine's fist. It only takes a couple of tight squeezes and strokes until he's pumping his hips against Blaine's and coming for the second time in the space of twenty minutes, with a high pitched whine.

Kurt sinks to the floor, limp and boneless as he starts to soften, landing in a pile of bent and spent limbs. Blaine goes with him, tucking himself close into Kurt, his legs wrapping around him as best as they can, arms tight around his shoulder blades.

“Congratulations.” Kurt wheezes, his head slowly rising to catch eyes with Blaine. Both sets of eyes glazed and hooded, hair both black and chestnut ruffled and wild and two shades of skin flushed with colour and damp with sweat.

Blaine grins, bops Kurt lightly on the chin with a finger and then follows up with his lips. “What?”

“You succeeded in your conquest. You have literally knocked me off of my feet. I can't stand.” Kurt pants, smirking when he feels Blaine smile into his skin, still pecking light kisses around Kurt's chin and jaw.

“Good.”

The air around and between them is musky and thick with sexual release and good clean boy sweat. Their mixture of come is cooling and drying between them, sticking to the light fur of their abdomens, but neither man can even contemplate moving right now.

“That-this was- it's ok right?” Blaine suddenly says out of nowhere, his voice sounding a little shy and small, and he's suddenly that shy downtrodden cyclist again from all of those hours ago. His gorgeous expressive eyes blink back at Kurt, searching over his face, searching for an answer.

Kurt lifts a hand and gently palms Blaine's cheek. “Blaine of course this is ok, that was fantastic, more than fantastic.”

Blaine's grin is face splitting, lighting up everything about him and Kurt giggles with joy.

“So we could, we could um-do it-this again, um maybe, sometime?” Blaine manages to stutter out, and god the change in him is unbelievably adorable.

The man is literally a gentleman on the streets but a freak in the sheets- oh so Kurt thinks he heard some youthful expression like that-somewhere, somehow.

“Well,” Kurt starts and Blaine's face falls. Kurt undeterred moulds his facial features and emotions and continues. “I was kind of hoping, wishfully thinking actually, that we could maybe do um this again as the end result of a date maybe?”

And just like that Blaine literally glows, his shoulders rising, his arms tightening his hold around Kurt so much that Kurt has to laugh out loud.

“Oh Kurt, you already have a matinee ticket to the show tomorrow, I mean it's yours if you want it?” Blaine asks, eyes dancing, glowing from the pale beam of moonlight streaming in from the far window where Kurt's blinds are still tilted open slightly.

Kurt wriggles, he wants to squirm at the filth of a state he's in right now, but just cant. He's overjoyed. “I-I do?”

Blaine nods, beaming. “Front and center. And then I was hoping that maybe you'd accompany me to dinner afterwards?”

“Will I see you in a toga?” Blaine laughs and the sound is delectable, Kurt wants to just swallow it up with his mouth. So he tries, leaning in to kiss at Blaine hungrily.

“Not during tomorrow's show, no. I'll be in the orchestra pit.” Blaine whispers around Kurt's lips.

Kurt tries to make a pitiful sound but it doesn't work with the way his back arches, just trying to get more of Blaine.

Blaine smiles and giggles a bit into Kurt's mouth, “But I could always bring one away with me, you know, for afterwards?”

“Deal.”

*

Kurt feels his cheeks heating as the flashbacks flush through him like a déjà vu. He hears a familiar knock sound from the front door, and Blaine's lovely warming familiar voice calling out his arrival to him.

Kurt smiles, swiping over the wall one last time, kind of preparing it for a reunion of sorts- cause god knows that he's ready for it.

Fin…