Blaine was the first to wake.  He blinked the sleep from his eyes while he waited for his active conscious to slowly reassert itself.  And when it finally did, Blaine rather wished it hadn't.  He sat up slowly, looking over at his bedmate, still blissfully asleep.

Even unconscious, Kurt was stunning.  He slept on his side, facing away from Blaine.  The fading light from the window danced along his naked body, making his porcelain pale skin gleam.  His hair was a tangled mess, of course.  Blaine couldn't help but smile at that.  He couldn't actually remember a time Kurt had allowed himself to be seen with anything short of immaculate grooming. 

His face was relaxed in sleep, all that kinetic energy temporarily at rest.  Several new mouth sized dark red marks dotted his neck and there was no explaining them away as sparring injuries.  Blaine winced.  He'd hadnt deliberately planned on marking Kurt at all, much less so overtly.  He remembered their words before they'd given themselves over to taste and touch.  It had sounded so good, maybe permanent even, but things were sometimes said in high lust that had no bearing in the real world.

Of course he'd had every intention of pressing a suite of some kind with Kurt, but they hadn't even talked about the political aspects of a relationship.  He'd firmly decided not to so much as kiss the man's cheek until after Rachel and Kurt were safely married, contract signed and witnessed.  Also, he'd wanted to have at least some discussion before falling into bed. What role did Kurt want Blaine to play in his life?  Because Blaine had no intention of being the future Baron's dirty little secret.  He'd rather be alone than a bedmate hidden in shadow.       

Blaine sighed softly; he was being dramatic again.  Kurt had been the one that initiated the liaison, and he'd done so in the middle of a busy hallway.  Kurt had made it abundantly clear both by word and deed that he had zero intention of maintaining secrecy.  Or even common decency, Blaine thought with some amusement, remembering that he'd had to practically drag Kurt somewhere private.

He thought about all the people they'd rushed past hand in hand, leaving no doubt as to their intentions.  By now the whole castle would know that Kurt had slept with his future fiance's brother.  How would this impact the wedding plans?  What if he'd ruined everything?  Bitter apples, Blaine could never go home if he'd ruined this pairing.  It meant so much to his adopted parents, not to mention the benefits to the people of Broadway.  What had he been thinking?

Of course, Blaine knew the answer to that; he hadn't been.  The moment he'd seen Kurt dance and whirl in the practice arena, bare-chested and glorious, Blaine had thought about nothing but tasting his skin once again, feeling those toned muscles clench and shiver against his body. 

Blaine carefully rolled to the side of the bed and planted his feet on the floor.  He briefly buried his face in his hands, allowing guilt and regret to swallow him for a few indulgent minutes before burying the useless emotions.  He could wallow later; right now it was time for damage control.

He twisted around slightly, glancing over at at Kurt's sleeping form.  The large bruise on his shoulder was turning an angry purple.  Blaine had forgotten about that; had he gripped Kurt by the shoulders over that area?  Most likely, he thought, he'd grabbed Kurt most everywhere.  His gaze traveled down Kurt's wide shoulders down to his elegantly narrowed hips to what had to be the most fantastic ass Blaine had ever seen, much less touched.  He fought back the sudden impulse to lean in and taste.  Kurt's lean, muscular legs were lightly dusted with hair, and kept going for a long, long time.

Blaine swallowed.  He had to leave, right now.  But this was his room, wasn't it?  Blaine glanced over at his bags, neatly stacked along the corner.  Yup, his room.  He had to talk to Rachel.  Maybe she'd send him back home.  Blaine really didn't want to go, but if his absence would help steer things back on course he'd have to.  Blaine stood and paced for a few moments before reaching for a shirt.

Motion on the bed caught his attention and Blaine froze, shirt halfway up his second arm.  Kurt was awake.  He pulled himself partially upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before glancing to the bed, clearly looking for Blaine.  Finding only empty sheets Kurt sat all the way up, scanning the room until he found him.

Kurt blinked.  Blaine looked…well, he didn't look good.  His body was stunning, of course, but the almost sick expression on his face really wasn't one Kurt wanted to see in a lover.  He much preferred satisfied, satiated, maybe even a few purrs.  ‘I may just vomit' was nowhere on his list.  Blaine also looked like he was leaving. 

“Should I be apologizing?” Kurt asked directly, voice still a little hoarse.  Blaine leaned over to the bed stand and poured a cup of water, wordlessly handing it over.  Kurt accepted the cup and took a deep gulp, clearing his throat.

“I don't really want to,” he continued, staring at the cup.  “I can't think of a single thing I'm sorry for, but I'm not fond of my lovers disappearing on me while I sleep, or looking like they'd swallowed a poisonous toad.” 

Blaine sighed, and sat back down on the bed, one foot resting on the ground, the other tucked under him.  “I…” Blaine didn't finish; he didn't really know what to say.

Kurt waited a beat.  “Ohhkay.  Let's try this.  You did want to have sex, right?  Because I'm almost positive that was you dragging me to your room.”  He glanced at his lower abdomen with a faintly distasteful look.  “And this appears to be your dried come on my skin.” 

Blaine blushed and popped back up, grabbed a towel and dunking it in the cleaning bowl on the bedside, before settling back down and handing the towel over.  Kurt began cleaning while he waited for Blaine to verbalize his thoughts.

“Yes,” Blaine said finally.  “I really really wanted to have sex.  To the exclusion of rational thought, which is why I'm a little disconcerted.”

“This is you disconcerted?  I can't wait to see your version of disturbed,” Kurt sniped as he cleaned. 

“I didn't plan to do...this,” Blaine told him, ignoring the tone.  Kurt rolled his eyes, looking at him in disbelief.

“Okay.  Maybe I'd considered a liaison between us,” Blaine admitted.  “But not until you were married and Rachel and I had talked, and you and I had talked, and…”

“Good thing I took matters in hand then,” Kurt interrupted, his eyes glittering with the first hints of amusement.  “Or we'd be old men before we'd ever gotten our clothes off.  So, if you've been ‘considering a liaison,' why are you freaking out on me now?”

Blaine ran a hand through his messy curls.  “I can't afford to do anything that may interfere with your marriage.  And we were so obvious.  The Queen probably knows that you fucked me by now.” 

Kurt laughed.  “She might at that.  The woman is scary gifted.  But if you don't mind, I'd prefer to keep the Queen out of our bedroom.”  He turned to face Blaine, expression turning serious.  “Why do you think you've messed up the pairing?  If anything, the fact that Rachel and I aren't wedded yet keeps you in the clear.”

Blaine sighed.  “I just…I should have waited, talked with my sister…”

“The last I heard, Rachel was busy getting it on in the stables,” Kurt said offhandedly.  “I see no reason why she should be the only one having fun.” 

“What?!”  Blaine asked him in shock, expression aghast. 

Kurt snorted.  “I'm not sure how your home worked, but here, secrets are few and far between.  Especially with the most important wedding of our generation in the works.  I've been privately told by two different lordlings that my intended's eyes were already wandering and was I really sure that this was an appropriate match, not to mention being notified about what was afoot in my stable.” 

His gaze on Blaine turned appraising.  “If anything, I'm the one of who should be concerned.  From a tactical standpoint, the public spectacle between us leveled the playing field, neutralizing any advantage I could gain from Rachel's indiscretion.  It would be considered an excellent political move.”

Blaine sat back on his heels and thought for a moment.  Kurt was absolutely right.  Blaine had come on strong from the beginning, seeking Kurt out, making it clear what his intentions were.  It was a strategist's dream move.  Never mind what that made Blaine.

He looked over into Kurt's now carefully neutral expression.  Then Blaine remembered the rare vulnerability Kurt had shown him earlier.  And he quit caring about strategists or matchmaking.  He crawled across the wide bed, taking Kurt's face in his hands.  Kurt didn't pull away, but he was stiff and his gaze was cold.   

“Kurt, please believe me.  I wasn't thinking anything like that when I found you in the arena.  I didn't even know that you knew about Rachel until just now.  Why would I be freaking out like this if I wasn't worried I'd messed up?”

“You were leaving,” Kurt told him warily.  “When I woke up.  I saw you getting dressed.”  He pulled gently out of Blaine's grasp. 

“If you were playing me, that's okay.  It was a solid move.  And believe me, I understand political maneuvering.  Just, please be honest with me.  If you want us to be friends, I need that from you.”

“I am,” Blaine promised fervently.  “I'm being completely honest, I swear.  You've haunted my dreams since we were kids.  If I'm not in love with you yet, I'm swiftly getting there.  Please, trust me.  I wouldn't…I mean, I'd do a lot for Rachel and our family.  I'd give up most things.  My body isn't one of them.  You aren't one of them.  Please, Kurt,” his golden eyes bore into Kurt's, willing him to read Blaine's sincerity.  He couldn't lose Kurt.  Not when he'd only just gotten him. 

Without thought, Blaine reached out, sliding his hand to the back of Kurt's head and leaning in for a kiss.  He pressed his lips against Kurt's soft ones, gentle pecks against a frozen mouth, begging for trust, acceptance.  When Kurt didn't respond, Blaine nuzzled his face against Kurt's neck, “Please,” he whispered one more time. 

Kurt sighed and tilted his head so he could reach Blaine's lips.  He kissed once, gently, and then not so gently when Blaine immediately opened for him, a soft noise of relief escaping his throat.  The two leisurely made out for a few perfect minutes, enjoying the slow glide of tongue and lips and gentle caresses.

Once he'd had his fill of Blaine's lips for the moment, Kurt pulled him back down onto the bed and curled up next to him.  “Next time can we try for afterglow instead of angst?”  He asked casually.

Blaine's chest shook gently with his chuckle.  “It's worth looking into.  But it may be a little while until there is a next time.”

“What?  You're waiting for marriage before you put out?  Tease,” Kurt complained without rancor. 

Blaine laughed.  “That too.  But it's also a matter of practicality.  Certain parts of my anatomy need a rest.  It's been a while for me and you umm, are rather a lot to take.” 

“Easy solution to that,” Kurt told him, eyes gleaming with mirth and more than a hint of masculine pride.   “I couldn't help but notice what a lovely mouth you have.  I'm sure it can be put to good use.”

“And leave me aching on both ends?” Blaine objected in mock dismay.  “You're a cold man, Kurt Hummel.  And unless I'm mistaken, there is another option.” 

Blaine's hand slid down to caress Kurt's naked ass, running a thumb delicately along the crease.  Kurt shivered against him, to Blaine's delight.  He'd wondered if Kurt was a switch.  Not that Blaine objected to bottoming, it was his preferred position in general, but options were always good.

Someone knocked on Blaine's door, interrupting their lounging.  “Come in,” Kurt called out before Blaine could say anything. 

The door opened quietly and a servant coughed delicately.  “Pardon my interruption My Lord, but dinner will be ready in an hour and a bath has been filled in your room should you wish to prepare.” 

Kurt groaned.  “I'm comfy,” he protested, snuggling tight against Blaine.

“Apologies, Sir, but you smell like a brothel,” the servant replied, his meek tone belying the impertinent words.  “And I haven't found appropriate words yet to describe the state of your hair.” 

Blaine startled at the audacity, but Kurt just laughed.  “I'm sure you're right, Mike.”  With a reluctant groan, Kurt rolled on top of Blaine for a quick kiss and suggestive roll of his hips before rising.  The servant offered the lordling a thick, comfy looking robe.

“Blaine, this is Michael,” Kurt told him, gesturing at the tall Asian man standing beside him.  “He's head steward to the castle.  If you need anything, he's the one to ask.

“Mike, Blaine's going to be living here.  Would you mind terribly getting him established and seeing to his comforts?” 

“If he can refrain from leaving teeth marks above your collar line, I'll find him anything that pleases,” Mike replied, a reproachful look turned Blaine's direction. 

Kurt just laughed.  “I'll see you at dinner, Blaine?”

“Naturally.  He's right about the teeth marks, by the way,” Blaine admitted.  “And there may be a hickey or two.”  Or three.

Kurt tightened the belt to his robe and blew Blaine a kiss.  “Don't let it concern you.  I have an impressive collection of ornate scarves."

Blaine watched as Kurt slipped quickly from the room.  A moment later a serving girl tentatively knocked on his door, bearing hot wash water.  As Blaine quickly scrubbed away the obvious evidence of his recent activities he waited for sounds that Rachel was back.  They needed to talk.