Despite the airport flirtation, nothing much happens between them at first—nothing romantic or sexy anyway. Which is fine, because there may be something unwise about trying to kindle a romance with someone wholl be living with his family on exchange, someone whos going to return home, across an ocean, in just a few months. Who wants to court a broken heart? Or worse, who wants to be the cause of one?

So, no matter how cute or sexy Kurt is, and no matter how often Blaine catches Kurt looking at him (or Kurt catches Blaine looking back), Blaine does his best to refrain from making any overtures of romance. They do a lot together regardless. Which is both a relief and a delight, since Blaine wasnt sure if theyd get along well at all, or if Kurt would simply find his own friends at Dalton, and he and Blaine would be little more than roommates to one another.

But it turns out they have a lot in common. Kurt auditions for The Warblers, and theyre ready to beg him to join before hes sung more than a few bars of "Defying Gravity". He loves American musicals—is obsessed with both Broadway theater and Disney films, reads Vogue religiously, and (unexpectedly) enjoys the spectacle of American politics.

He also has an unfathomable fondness for terrible American reality TV shows. And John Cougar Mellencamp.

"My father loves his music," Kurt explains, and he listens to it whenever hes feeling homesick. Theres something extra-specially surreal about listening to Kurt, wearing his earbuds, singing along to "Little Pink Houses" and lowering his crystal clear voice to a growly, over-enunciated drawl.

(Actually, its pretty adorable, and Blaine is trying very hard not become utterly besotted. Because what can he do about it reasonably? Not much.)

The focus of Blaines efforts, therefore, is to make Kurts time in Ohio memorable: The first weekend Kurts there, Blaine gets two tickets to a local production of Rent for the Friday night. They sing together in the car all the way home. On Saturday, they tour the sights of Columbus. Sunday, Kurt is pretty wiped, still battling jetlag, so they line up a Hoarders marathon, order pizza, and wash it down with Coke Zero (which Kurt insists on calling it by its "proper" name, Coca-Cola Zero, and it's weirdly sexy, the way Kurt's mouth shapes the sounds). Kurt deems the evening Very American. The next weekend, they catch the annual sing-along Sound of Music on Friday and Six Flags on Saturday. Sunday they do their homework.

.

Blaine plans a picnic and horseback riding for Kurts third weekend in Ohio. They visit every deli in Columbus to find the items Kurt wants to include in their lunchtime spread. Their basket ends up packed full of fresh bread and fruit and imported French cheeses, artichoke tapenade, little stuffed peppers and olives, a roasted vegetable salad, two kinds of hummus, a box of crumbly oat crackers, and bottles of sparkling mineral water. Then they drive out to the stables west of the city where the Andersons board their horses. Because Kurts not spent much time around large animals, hes wary of Coopers old mare, Diamond. But after Blaine cuts an apple for Kurt to feed her, she soon charms away his nerves. (It helps that Diamond, having been Coopers horse, is, by necessity and years of conditioning, calm and easy-going.)

Through farmland and sparse forest, they leisurely follow trails. The spring sun is warm, but the breeze comes cool from the north. On a sheltered slope beneath a pink-budding maple, they spread their wool picnic blanket and have a late, lazy lunch while the horses graze nearby. Kurt tries to teach Blaine the correct French pronunciation of the few phrases Blaines been learning, and they talk about the village where Kurt grew up.

Kurt has photos on his phone. The medieval buildings look like something out of a storybook. Blaine says something about Kurt living in a fairy tale land. To which Kurt rolls his eyes and makes some disparaging sounding comment in French. He explains that one of the reasons he wanted to come to the US for a semester was to escape a group of bullies at his school. The program with Dalton sounded like a good opportunity, and by the time Kurt returns home, the bullies will have finished school.

Blaines surprised, but maybe there are some things common to small towns no matter where they are. He takes a deep breath, weighs it, and then tells Kurt about the Sadie Hawkins dance and why he transferred to Dalton. When Blaine falls silent, Kurt takes his hand and squeezes his fingers. Blaine squeezes back and finds, in Kurts smile, an intimacy and understanding he didnt expect.

The afternoon chills quickly as the sun descends westward. They repack the picnic basket as gray clouds creep along the horizon. There are no mishaps on the ride back, but Blaine notices Kurt moving stiffly once theyre back at the barn brushing the saddle marks from the horses sweaty backs. He teases Kurt, "Youll be eating off the mantle for a week."

Theres another moment between them, when theyre standing by the gate, watching the horses trot off to rejoin their little herd. Blaine looks at Kurt, and Kurt looks back with such an unguarded expression of warmth, that Blaine is tempted to kiss him—theyre alone. He starts to lean in, close enough to catch the scent of sweat and leather that clings; but when Blaine sees the way Kurts breath catches, he loses his nerve and pretends he's just reaching to double check the gate latch. The moment passes.

Most of the following day Kurt spends in a hot bath, listening to Tokio Hotel on his iPod headphones and reading a racy European teen magazine with both naked girls and guys in it. (It's not pornographic, but Blaine wonders how Kurt got it through customs.) While Kurt soaks away the soreness in his muscles, Blaine does his homework. He leaves his bedroom door open so he can listen to Kurts endearingly off-key singing as it drifts down the hall.

.

For Easter break, though its still weeks away, they make plans for a road trip to Graceland with Blaine's parents, because Kurt also, apparently, likes Elvis Presley. (Its like Kurts doing an accidental impression of Jean Reno in Godzilla every time he gives Blaine a swaggery Southern sounding attempt at, "Thank you. Thank you very much." Blaine laughs every damn time.)

.

Once Kurt has settled into the Anderson familys routines, he surprises Blaine by asking Blaines mothers permission to cook a meal for them all. Then she surprises Blaine by saying yes. Shes rarely let Blaine do much more in the kitchen than help her with the holiday baking, but Blaine gets the impression her expectations of Kurts efforts are not high, and shes only granting her permission in the interest of hospitality.

It turns out Kurts an amazing cook. He treats them all to one of his familys favorites. ("My grandmothers specialty," Kurt says proudly.) Kurt roasts a whole chicken in white wine and olive oil with all the vegetables in the same dish, and its the best thing Blaines ever eaten. At least it is until the next week, when Kurt makes a thin pizza-like bread topped with fresh white cheese, onions, and bacon for a late Sunday supper while they watch a Meg Ryan double-feature on the TV.

After that, Blaines mother is happy to let Kurt cook a couple times each week. And Kurt lets Blaine help him in the kitchen, which is fun, because hes getting to spend more quality time with Kurt, and hes learning how to make some pretty tasty things himself. Kurt teaches him how to use the big chefs knife to dice onions and mince garlic, how fats and oils best carry the flavor of the dish, and which herbs can take the heat of cooking and which should go into a dish last to preserve their flavor.

On the nights Kurt has cooked, there's always a moment between them at the dinner table. It's when Blaine has just taken his first bite, that he catches Kurt looking at him, soft and expectant. After Blaine swallows, he tells Kurt how wonderful the dish is, and the smile that blooms upon Kurts lips feels like its nourishing Blaine even more than the food.

But Kurts not always the best teacher. Sometimes hes distracted, starts muttering to himself in French, and Blaine has to repeat a question a few times before Kurt hears him and responds. One night, Blaine burns the garlic hes sauteing in butter because Kurt wont tell him how hot the stove should be or how long Blaine needs to cook it before he adds the tomatoes. At the acrid stench of it, Kurt swears bitterly—something unfamiliar and emphatically not French—and says they need to start over. Hes so curt about it, Blaine finds himself apologizing reflexively. Hes never seen Kurt so perturbed.

"Its nothing, Blaine," Kurt says irritably, and he sighs as he wipes the burned butter from the pan.

Blaines pretty sure its not nothing, but its not until after dinner (and a trip up to Kurts room with a cup of tea) that he finds out what it actually is. Kurts stepmother emailed earlier in the day to say shed taken his father to the doctor with chest pains. His dad has a history of heart problems, and Kurt feels responsible, because he hasnt been home looking after him.

"Do you want to call home?" Blaine asks Kurt. "Youre welcome to."

"Your parents wont mind?" Kurt asks.

"Of course not," Blaine says, but Kurt wont make the call until Blaine has double-checked with his mom and dad. Predictably, they say yes, so Kurt spends an hour on the phone with his father and stepmother in his bedroom. After he hangs up and emerges from his bedroom, hes all smiles, though his eyes are red-rimmed. "Can you believe? It was indigestion," Kurt says with a laugh. "I woke them. Hes fine."

"Im so glad hes okay," Blaine says and he hugs Kurt there in the hallway. Hes relieved, too, that Kurt wont need to go home early. In his arms, Kurt is warm, adorably sniffly, and relaxed. His hair smells faintly of lavender from his evening shower. Blaine turns his face toward Kurts neck and inhales, and thats when Blaine realizes, he really doesnt want Kurt to leave at all.

.

The following Saturday, Blaines father takes them to the country club for a day of golf. Kurt is spectacularly, comically bad, but not too proud to laugh at himself. So the next week, when they go the the club, they swim instead, which Kurt does enjoy.

Its exhilarating to see so much of Kurts body (hes pale and slim, but theres more muscle than Blaine expected to find under all the fancy clothes Kurt wears), and to be seen himself. Blaine catches Kurt looking at him with a slow smile and an interest that settles hot beneath Blaines skin, and Blaine knows Kurt notices Blaines appreciative looks back. But nothing happens.

They sit in the sauna and make small talk about the musical selections The Warblers' council is mooting for Regionals. In the pauses of their conversation, Blaine entertains a porn worthy fantasy of Kurt taking off his towel and then taking off Blaines towel and kissing him and sliding his hand down Blaines belly and—

This isnt something Blaine should be daydreaming about in semi-public. He excuses himself and goes back to the pool to swim laps in the cool water until hes calmed himself.

.

(Blaine hears Kurt swear again—memorably—on another night, when he drops a jar of mustard that shatters all over the tile floor and splatters the cuffs of his trousers: "Himmel, Arsch, und Zwirn!" Kurt cries. Its delivered with such uncharacteristic venom, Blaine has to stifle a laugh. When Blaine inquires, Kurt runs a hand over his artlessly artful upswept hair, smiles sheepishly, and explains, "Its something my grandmother says.")

.

Most nights, they help each other with their homework, Blaine with Kurts English assignments and American History essays; and Kurt, since hes a year ahead, helps Blaine with his Analytical Geometry and Chemistry. They watch a lot of movies together on the weekday evenings after theyve finished their study. A lot of romantic comedies and musicals.

.

Its an ordinary Wednesday morning, over mugs of coffee, glasses of orange juice, and bowls of cereal, that his parents tell him that theyll be out overnight this upcoming Friday. Since Blaines never given them a reason not to trust him on his own—and neither has Kurt—theyll be left only with a list of phone numbers in case of an emergency and a request to stay in for the evening (accompanied by two crisp twenty dollar bills with which to buy a delivery dinner of their choice).

Blaine wants it to be a good evening for them both, even though theyve pledged to stay home. So Blaine makes plans: baking plans. Hell dazzle Kurt with homemade cheesecake and cookies and a marathon of golden age Disney animation in high definition. He emails his Aunt Jillian to ask for her lemon chocolate cheesecake recipe.

Because Blaine wants it to be a surprise, Friday afternoon, he banishes Kurt from the kitchen. His parents leave them with a cursory reminder not to do anything stupid.

.

Later that evening, the cheesecake remains an unrevealed surprise chilling in the fridge. Theyve had dinner (Chinese delivery), and are in the den with a plate of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies and tall glasses of iced Acaí Mango Zinger tea. Blaine pops open the case for Snow White and lifts up onto his knees to poke the open button on the Blu-ray player.

"Blaine?" Kurt interrupts. His querying tone is full of something unfamiliar that prickles the back of Blaines neck.

"Hmm?" Blaine casually turns with the disc balanced on the tip of his index finger.

Kurt cocks his head to the side, and his smile turns sly. "I wonder..." Kurt says. He raises one eyebrow and curls his bottom lip between his teeth as his smile widens.

"Yes?" Blaine prompts. The look on Kurts face has Blaine rapidly going the wrong temperature, but he cant tell if thats too hot or too cold.

"Eh, if you have something... more adult? Because we are alone tonight."

"Adult?" Blaine echoes.

"Yeah. Maybe you have a good porno?"

Blaines eyes widen. "You, uh, you want to watch porn?"

"You don't watch porn?" Kurt frowns at him.

"No. I mean, yes, I do, sometimes, just not, you know, with someone."

"Oh, okay," Kurt says, and he leans back, farther away from Blaine. "We dont have to anything that discomforts you." But he looks so disappointed as he glances down and fusses with the ends of his scarf. "Lets watch Snow White."

With a sinking feeling, Blaine realizes this might actually be A Moment—a chance for some undefinable more with Kurt—and hes missing it, messing it up, being stupid and unsophisticated, and Kurt will think him a little boy, and oh, god. Hes got to pull it together.

"No, no," he says, "We can watch something together. I just... Ive never done that before—most of the guys I know are straight—and its, um, I guess, you know, its cool. We can do that. Together. Ill uh, go get my computer." Blaine smiles as brightly as he can manage and stands up so fast he goes woozy for a second.

But Kurts smile makes all his discomfort worthwhile. Blaine takes the stairs up to his room two at a time. He has no idea what the etiquette is for watching porn with someone. Are they meant to, like, jerk off together? (Or, god, jerk each other off?) Or just sit quietly, squirming and waiting to excuse themselves to separate bathrooms. He doesnt know. He hates that he doesnt know.

Blaine hesitates before grabbing the tissues from beside his bed, just in case. Theres an unopened box of condoms in his night stand drawer that Cooper gave him last time he visited (and that had redefined mortifying for Blaine), and tonight, Blaine is glad theyre there. But he doesnt take them with him. Leaves them, and the lube (which has been opened) tucked discreetly under the current issue of Rolling Stone.

.

Back downstairs, Blaine sets his laptop down with a quick smile at Kurt and then goes to root about in the drawer of the TV console, seeking the HDMI cable. Behind him, Kurt scrolls through Blaine's porn directory (labeled “8th Grade Civil War Report”) for something suitable. What Blaine has is largely free, amateur stuff. What he can get away with without rousing too much suspicion with his parents—or the sort of thing that, if they did find it on his computer, he wouldnt immediately want to die. Its pretty tame really. Mostly just guys sucking dicks.

"Is this everything you have?" Kurt asks just as Blaine finds the right cable. Its tangled up with a couple other cords, so he sets to untangling them.

"Um, pretty much?" Blaine says over his shoulder.

"Will it be okay if I look for something else?"

"Sure, go ahead."

He hears Kurt typing. "Tell me what you like? Other than, eh, what word do you use for it—fellation—when you go down, use your mouth?

"Blowjob," Blaine says quickly. "We call it a blowjob."

"Blowjob? All right. Well, you seem to like that. Anything else?"

"Uh, kissing?" Blaine says; its the first thing that comes to mind.

Kurt doesnt say anything for a moment, and theres no keyboard noise, so Blaine turns to look back. Kurts looking straight at him with his eyebrows raised and a flush dotting his cheeks. "Kissing? You mean—?"

"I mean," Blaine runs a hand over the back of his neck. "It doesnt have to be kissing, but I like it when I can see the guys faces, when they seem to actually be into each other? Not just close up shots of..." Blaine makes an illustrative hand gesture toward his own crotch. (And regrets it instantly when Kurts gaze drops and the corners of his lips quirk.)

"Ah. You dont like to watch fucking?" Kurt asks, slow to bring his gaze back up.

"Oh, I like it. I just dont save those ones. In case my parents—"

"I understand," Kurt says. "Ill find some fucking with kissing for you." He winks.

"Um, thanks?" Blaine says, and he carefully winds up the cables he doesnt need, puts them back in the drawer and slides it closed softly. He turns the TV so he can get one end of the HDMI cable plugged in. Takes the other end and knee-walks back to Kurt and his laptop.

"Do you like big men? Or, ah, hairy men? Like, eh... bears?"

Blaine shakes his head. "No, I like pretty... um, pretty guys. Like, slim and fair is kind of my... type?"

Kurt nods and types some more, clicks a few things, and then stops and stares at the screen. The volume is muted, so Blaines not sure what hes looking at. Previewing something for Blaine, like hes some kind of personal porn shopper.

"May I see?" Blaine asks.

"Bien sûr," Kurt says and scoots sideways, angling the screen and waving for Blaine to come sit next to him.

Blaine kneels beside Kurt and looks. "Oh," Blaine says, because Kurt appears to be signed in to the VIP members section of a fairly swank looking European pay site. And the boys are definitely to Blaines taste. Pretty and sleek, what body hair they have is neatly groomed. Best of all, they look like theyre genuinely enjoying each other. The preview clip Kurt watches features a pale, dark-haired boy on his back while he gets fucked by a tanned blond boy, and the way hes looking up at his partner is kind of awestruck and adoring. Blaine really likes that. It sends rush of heat to his face. "Thats, um. Yeah, thats definitely hot," Blaine says.

Blond boy leans down and sucks at dark-haired boys jaw and throat, starts to fuck him deeper and harder, but slow, like hes making sure they can both feel everything. And dark-haired boys brow is furrowed in some kind of ecstasy that makes Blaine ache to know the feeling himself. The way the guys mouth works, Blaine can tell he's making noise. And with that, Blaines pulse sinks even hotter and heavier, and his cock jolts hard behind the zipper of his jeans.

"You like this one?" Kurt asks.

"Yes," Blaine breathes.

"Okay," Kurt says, and he clicks the download button. "Ill return soon," he says then, and Blaine watches Kurt stand and head out of the room. Hears the basement door open and close twice and then the sound of a drawer and cupboard opening and closing in the kitchen followed by the clink of glassware.

Kurt returns with a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. "To help relax us," Kurt says.

Blaine stares at the bottle. "Were not supposed to..."

"Have a little wine? Its okay," Kurt says.

"Um," Blaine says. He doesnt exactly have a moral issue here, more of an obedience one.

"Ill send your family a crate from one of our local vineyards to make up for it, ça ira?"

And since theres not much Blaine wants to deny Kurt right now. "Yeah, sure," Blaine says and he watches Kurt expertly uncork the bottle and pour two generous glasses of a Napa Valley Zinfandel. He passes one to Blaine.

Blaines not even sure he likes wine. He takes a tentative sniff. It smells good, of plums, but, when he takes a sip, it doesnt taste as good as it smells; its not very sweet at all, and he thinks something made out of fruit should taste sweet. Its nice and smooth in his mouth after he swallows, though, a warmth and creaminess lingers on the back of his tongue.

"Not bad," Kurt says as if hes not only praising the wine, but also encouraging Blaine to enjoy it.

Blaine sets his wine glass down to get the HDMI cable plugged in to the computer. He grabs the remote and punches through to the right input. Kurt arranges the big square floor cushions for them, adds a few throw pillows from the sofa. He leans back on one elbow and gets the video they just downloaded ready to play.

Next to Kurt, Blaine sits on the cushion and picks up his glass. He takes a large mouthful of wine, swallows it without really tasting it. The computer rests between them, but it's not much of a boundary. Blaines so aware of his body and everything. He cant figure out how to arrange his legs or where to put his hands, or— He ends up sitting cross-legged with his hands folded together cradling the wineglass. Hes grateful to have something to occupy his hands. He takes another mouthful. Can feel a buzzy sort of loosening in his head and body as the alcohol warms his throat. Maybe he's drinking it too fast. Kurt sips his wine, stretches his long legs out in front of him, and clicks play.

The movie starts. Dark-haired boy is sprawled in a plush, vintage armchair in an airy sun-drenched room. Hes wearing a tight white t-shirt and cut-off denim shorts, and hes reading a book. Blond boy comes in through a pair of french doors that open to the outside. The gauzy white curtains float in the breeze. Hes shirtless, in swim trunks, toweling his hair dry. He says something in a language Blaine doesnt recognize, and there are no subtitles. But its warm and affectionate, and dark-haired boy looks up with a smile and sets his book down on the floor.

Then Kurt's voice comes, low and unexpectedly near: "He said, I worked up a large appetite while I was swimming. I was thinking about you."

"Oh!" Blaine startles and blinks. Kurts leaning over toward him, well into his space, and his voice—a private murmur between them like this—its not only that hes translating the porn that makes Blaines heart fumble its next beat. "Its okay," Blaine says in a rush. "You dont need to translate. I'm sure I... get the general idea." He tries to smile at Kurt, but he cant tell if he succeeds.

With a nod, Kurt smiles back, and they both turn their attention back to the screen.

Its not long before blond boy is the one sitting in the chair, and dark-haired boy is straddling blond boys lap, grinding against him—having lost his his t-shirt—and theyre kissing. Theres a lot of kissing, both tender and sweet, and deep and hungry; and, yeah, they both seem to be into it. The muffled whimpers and soft groans theyre sharing dont sound forced at all.

Blaine sits up straighter as the boys lose the rest of their clothes and share more intimate touches. (Dark-haired boy is now kneeling on the floor, and blond boy's legs are spread wide, draped over the arms of the chair. Dark-haired boy alternates between licking blond boys dick and sucking his balls.) With a shudder, Blaine tightens his grip on the stem of the wineglass and determinedly does not look at Kurt. In his peripheral vision hes aware of Kurt looking at him every now and then, gauging his response or something. Blaine knows hes losing ground in the battle to maintain his composure.

With each heartbeat, his whole body throbs hotter, sweat prickles across his scalp, and the demanding corkscrew of his arousal twists low and tight. His hand shakes as he raises his glass to his lips and takes another long sip of wine. It doesn't seem to be helping him relax. Hes feeling a little muzzy-headed. Though hes not sure if its the wine or how turned on he is, or that hes watching porn with someone—or that its Kurt, on whom hes been nurturing a crush since he first said "Bonjour!" in the airport. Blaine has to open his mouth to keep breathing, and his breath comes too loud and ragged. His face is so hot—hes sweating across his chest and shoulders now—and behind the unyielding trap of denim, his cock pounds. The boys on the screen are gleaming and naked and have moved to a bed with rumpled white sheets. Blond boys working his fingers into dark-haired boys ass. Hes smiling with delight at dark-haired boys enjoyment.

Blaine stares as blond boy starts thrusting, fucking dark-haired boy with his hand; dark-haired boy squirms and cries out loudly, and the sound of it and the way his face is screwed up with pleasure, how lost he looks to it, shoots a visceral spear of arousal through Blaine so sharp it makes him gasp audibly and swear.

Blaine snaps his mouth closed and holds his breath, feeling like his chest will explode.

Then, "Blaine?" Kurt asks.

It's irresistible, his name spoken so sweetly in Kurt's voice. Blaine tears his gaze from the screen and makes himself blink for what feels like the first time since they started watching.

"Yes?" he replies. Kurt is turned toward him, his face half shadowed, half lit by the TV screen, looking at him with a tentative smile and a steady, evaluating gaze.

"Come here?" Kurt asks, but he may as well have commanded Blaine, for Blaine is pushing the laptop to the side and crawling toward Kurt before hes even processed the question and its implications. His heartbeat drums up in his throat like something alive is trapped beneath his skin.

"Yes," Blaine says, to whatever it is Kurt wants, and Kurt leans over to meet him with soft, parted lips and warm breath pressed right to Blaines mouth. And, oh, theyre kissing, and its warm and a little bit damp and the taste of the wine on Kurts mouth is completely delicious. Its so much better than that time when he was eleven and Blaine kissed his friend Janice just to see what kissing was like. It wasnt like this.

The tip of Kurts tongue skims across his bottom lip and Kurt brings a hand up to cup Blaines face, presses gently at Blaines chin with his thumb, encouraging Blaine to open for him. Willingly, Blaine opens his mouth and closes his eyes, and Kurts tongue slides between his lips, a deep, searching kiss.

Rhythmic sounds of sex still come from the TV: moans, increasing in volume and desperation, the slap of skin, wetter sounds, the raunchy thud of the soundtrack music. Its not how Blaine would ever have imagined his first kiss with a boy: background porn while hes desperately hard in his pants, feeling like if Kurt touches him anywhere else, hes going to unravel into the desperate sweating desire burning up his insides.

When Kurt withdraws from the kiss, Blaine opens his eyes and says, "Please?" What hes asking for exactly, hes got no particular idea, just something hes sure Kurt can give him.

"What do you want?" Kurt asks him. One eye flares in the flickering light, a bright blue halo around his widely dilated pupil.

Blaine swallows. "Anything. You. God, anything."

"Youre trembling," Kurt says. His fingertips are cool upon the hot skin of Blaines temple.

"You kissed me," Blaine says. Light-headed, dizzy with wine and the want for more of Kurts kisses and touch, Blaine sits back on his heels.

"Oui," Kurt says, and he reaches over to snap the lid of the laptop down. The room instantly quiets and darkens to just the one dim floor lamp by the sofa. "Ive wanted to kiss you for a long time."

"Me too," Blaine whispers.

And then Kurts moving close and kissing him again, and his hand is falling from Blaines face to rest high upon Blaines leg, stroking across the crease between Blaines thigh and groin, and that touch tugs at the denim across Blaines erection. The slightest pressure of touch without actually being touch, its enough that Blaines pressing up against Kurts hand and little eager sounds are creeping, unbidden, up the back of his throat.

"Mmm," Kurt hums as he breaks the kiss again, he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and regards Blaine with intense curiosity. "Anything?"

"Uh huh."

"Then," Kurt says and he looks down at where his hand is, moves to drag one fingertip lightly along the prominent ridge of Blaines cock (Blaine shivers and makes an incoherent noise). "Ill like to do a blowjob for you," Kurt says.

"Oh," Blaine says, and it takes his brain a nanosecond longer to fully parse Kurts grammar. Then he flushes furnace hot, everywhere. "Yeah, yeah, thats... Id like that too." He smiles through his nerves.

"Good," Kurt says. He kisses Blaine on the cheek. "Lie down," he says, and then hes scooting back and tugging Blaines legs, to straighten Blaines body out and pull him supine, and Blaine obediently sinks back against the large pillow hed been sitting on. Uses one foot to push the laptop farther aside.

Without hesitation, Kurts hands are on his belt, unfastening the buckle with quick efficiency, and then hes slipping the button through its hole and pulling down the zipper.

And, "Ive never—" Blaine blurts out.

Kurts attention returns to Blaines face. "Never...?"

"No ones ever touched me before," Blaine says. "Like this."

"Ah." Now Kurt hesitates, but he looks pleased. "I thought maybe so, but I wasnt sure."

That makes Blaine wonder if this was Kurts plan for the night: to seduce him. He rather likes the idea, that they both had plans for each other. He thinks a blowjob probably trumps cheesecake though. "Im glad its you," he says.

"Im glad too," Kurt says, and then his hands start moving again, and Blaine sucks in his belly and watches Kurt open his pants. "Youre going to feel so good, Blaine," Kurt says. Blaine lifts his hips as Kurt tugs his jeans down his legs. "I want you to know," he continues, "you may come in my mouth. I want it, okay? So dont worry about that. Dont hold back."

"Oh," Blaine says, because—wow, yeah—this is what theyre doing.

Kurt grins at Blaine as he works his jeans down his thighs, and then, he leaves them there and shifts up again, running his fingertips in symmetrical arcs along the leg bands of Blaines navy and gray striped briefs. "Youre so handsome," Kurt says. "So sexy."

"Thanks," Blaine says, and he feels surprisingly gratified by the praise and the weight of Kurts scrutiny. Anticipation is a fine, high frequency buzz beneath his skin, and hes so turned on his balls ache.

Kurt pushes Blaines shirt up, and Blaine pulls his arms free. With more of his body bared to Kurt, Blaine shivers as Kurt leans down and kisses his breastbone. Kurt strokes over Blaines ribs, circles and rubs his nipples with his thumbs. Its ticklish and electric and threading right into the pleasure simmering between Blaines legs. And Blaine still isnt sure what to do with his hands.

"Kurt..." he says, twisting beneath Kurts hands and mouth.

"How are you? Are you fine?"

"Yeah... yeah, Im just... I really want you." He puts a hand on Kurts shoulder, makes a fist in the fabric and tugs. "Would you?" he asks, "Take this off for me, please?"

Kurt straightens, unwinds his scarf, unbuttons his shirt, and shrugs it from his shoulders. Kneeling above Blaine, bare chested in the low golden light, Kurt asks, "Better?"

Blaine reaches to touch his skin, traces over the smooth shadowed definition of his torso, and says, "God, youre gorgeous."

With a smile, Kurt tilts his chin up and straightens his shoulders, improving the line of his upper body and letting Blaine look as he touches. But soon enough, Kurts done with being admired, and hes reaching for Blaines underwear, pulling the waistband down, and exposing Blaines blood heavy cock. The carpet is an unfriendly texture beneath Blaines ass, but, with Kurt's attention upon him, he doesnt care.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt says, looking down, and he takes one hand back to himself, presses over his own crotch, and Blaine realizes that Kurt may be just as turned on as he is, and thats really hot, that Kurts feeling this way too—at least in part because of Blaine. He guesses though, that Kurt has had more practice at being turned on with another person and still functioning. This is clearly not Kurts first time doing this.

Kurt lowers himself down, curls one hand beneath Blaines shaft and nuzzles at him: the bump of his nose and the soft, barely there brush of his lips. Kurt inhales deeply through his nose and then lets the breath out in a warm sigh over Blaines flesh. Hums as his lips trail up to the head of Blaines cock. Then his lips part and his tongue comes out, and Blaine nearly chokes on his moan. Kurt kisses and licks and mouths at the crown of Blaines cock, seems to instinctively know all the places to rub his lips and flick and slide his tongue to get Blaines pulse racing and every muscle straining.

"Kurt," Blaine says. "Oh, god."

"Mmm," Kurt replies, vibrating around him as he opens wider and sucks Blaine in.

"Oh! Oh... oh," Blaine says. The enveloping heat, the strong wet pull of Kurts mouth, the clever stroke of his tongue... The sensation gathers up tight and bright and fast, in his balls, behind his eyes, along every nerve. Blaine digs the fingers of one hand into the side of his thigh, the others into the short pile of the carpet, and he tries not to come, because this is too incredible to let it be over so soon. But he is going to come if Kurt keeps going like this. "W-wait!" he says. "Stop for a sec."

Kurt stops immediately, eases his mouth off Blaine, and Blaine exhales and blinks, tries to catch his breath. Kurt lifts his head. "Did you change your mind?" Kurt asks.

"No, no, I just, um. Didnt want it to be over so fast?"

"Then relax," Kurt says, rubbing his thigh. "Theres no rush."

"I know, youre really good at that though. Maybe too good."

Kurt smirks at him. Its a new expression. "Put your hands in my hair," Kurt says.

"Okay," Blaine breathes out. He reaches down with one hand, pushes his fingers into the thick, product stiffened sweep of Kurts hair. Its softer than it looks as his fingers break the fragile hold of Kurts hairspray.

"Thats good," Kurt says; his eyelids flutter with pleasure.

"Yeah?" Blaine moves his other hand down, curiously presses his fingertips more firmly against Kurts scalp.

"Mmm, oui." Kurt says, a little breathless; he leans his head into Blaines hold. "I like it."

Blaine grins and tugs at Kurts hair gently, experimentally, sees how it makes a tremor ripple across his shoulders. Then he does it again, because its amazing to be able to affect Kurt like this. Kurts eyes slip shut and his satisfied hum rumbles deeper in his chest. Blaine half expects him to start purring.

Eventually Kurt blinks his eyes open and speaks again, "If you want slower or faster, use your hands to show me," he says. "Push or pull, okay?"

Blaine nods.

"Permit yourself to enjoy me, Blaine," Kurt says, and he lowers his head again.

He takes Blaines back into his mouth slowly, suckles only softly around him, and Blaine tries to relax and just feel: the fine strands of Kurts hair between his fingers, the slight shifting of Kurts scalp beneath his massaging fingertips, the glorious warmth and slide of Kurts mouth on his cock, the wonderful burr of Kurts low moans around him.

Kurt finds an easy rhythm without much guidance from Blaines hands. Not too fast, but fast enough that Blaine feels his pleasure gathering up again. "So good," Blaine murmurs, contents himself with carelessly petting through Kurts hair. "Dont stop."

Without stopping, Kurt shakes his head and flicks an indignant look up at Blaine that makes Blaine laugh through his next whimper.

He floats, warm and weightless in a fog of bliss.

It gets quieter for a while. Not silent, but Blaines pleasure muffled cries give way to deep rasping breaths, and Kurts hums come softer and shorter, interspersed with little wet slurps that escape the seal of his lips on each push down and the rush of Kurts breath through his nose on each pull up. It doesnt sound like porn. Its more intimate—both more familiar and more specific. Its Kurts voice and its his voice.

And it feels—god it feels better than hes ever imagined. (And Blaine likes to think his imagination functions pretty well.) But Kurt doing this for him, beautiful, funny, odd, sweet Kurt, with his lips wrapped so hungrily and tenderly around Blaines cock. Blaine clutches a tight fistful of Kurts hair; Kurt moans abruptly more loudly, and sucks harder, and Blaines spine arches; he thrusts up—deeper—and he swears to shame Kurts grandmother.

Kurt pulls up and off with a pop and wraps his fist snug around Blaines cock, thumb and forefinger looped firm below the head, "Use my mouth," Kurt says.

"Wha—?"

“You're close?”

“Yes.”

"Fuck my mouth," he says. "Okay?" And then hes sinking back down, slick and snug and perfect around Blaines cockhead until his lips meet the hold of his hand. Blaine grips Kurts hair and pushes, sliding up through Kurts closed fist and between his lips, and then he draws back, only to push back in again, and Kurt takes him gorgeously.

"Oh, Kurt, I—" Faster, a little harder—he takes more—and Kurt groans. Blaine sees his eyes roll back just as his eyelids droop shut.

A single-minded focus moves Blaine, has him reaching for and catching hold of the edge of his orgasm. Obscene sounds from Kurts mouth, Kurts voice, ragged and needy, engulfing him, so much heat in his belly and his balls, bursting behind his eyes, squeezing at his throat. Blaine pushes deep, holds on tight, and comes.

Kurt lets go with his hand and slides down even farther with his mouth, seems to open wider somehow, takes all of Blaine with a pleased hum, swallows everything.

"Holy..." Blaine says, and releases Kurts hair gingerly. Pets soothingly.

Kurt withdraws from Blaines cock in turn, clears his throat, and presses a soft, parting kiss to Blaines shaft. Then Kurt crawls up to nuzzle at Blaines cheek. "Beautiful," Kurt murmurs near his ear, breathing hard. "You are so good. So good."

"Kurt," Blaine says, savors the consonants of Kurts name on his tongue and teeth as much as he savors the sweat slick-sticky between their naked skins. He runs his hands down the heated slope of Kurts spine. "That was—oh my god—fantastic."

Kurt pushes up on his arms and looks down at Blaine; theres urgency seething in his gaze, and his chest heaves. Blaine realizes, of course, Kurt hasnt come yet. "Will you do something for me now?" Kurt asks, airless and low. Theres nothing but sweet entreaty in his shaking voice; its not a demand. "Sil te plait?"

"Yeah, yeah, oh, of course," Blaine says, slides a hand up to the base of Kurts skull, buries his fingers there and pulls Kurt down for a kiss. Tastes himself. Which brings an inquisitive rush of heat straight back to his groin.

The only trouble is, hes not sure what exactly to do for Kurt. Using his hand, after what Kurt did for him, seems less than what he wants to give Kurt, but hes also certain he cannot replicate anything like Kurts skill with the blowjob, and he doesnt want to be disappointing—gag or accidentally bite or something equally inept.

Blaine presses up into the kiss more deeply, tugs at Kurt to come down into his arms. The soft twill of Kurts pants is rough against his sensitive cock, and he can feel vividly the thick shape of Kurts unsatisfied desire against him. Twice, Kurt jerks his hips against Blaine, restless and sudden, and then stills with a small needful sound. Blaine thinks about the boy in the video then, the dark-haired one, his face in the preview clip, about how much Blaine feels the way that boy had looked: adoring and a little awestruck. Wonders if Kurt is thinking about it too, about maybe fucking Blaine like the blond boy had fucked the dark-haired boy. Blaine wants to know if Kurt wants him like that. If Kurt wants to use Blaines body to indulge his own pleasure.

Its a profound thrill to think about it, Kurt desiring him in that way, his body. Blaine wants it, wants to be the origin and the focus of Kurts desire, wants even more to be the satisfaction of it. So Blaine withdraws from the kiss, licks his lips, and says softly, "You can fuck me."

He doesnt add a querying if you want. Kurts eyes widen, surprised. But as Blaine holds Kurts gaze, Kurts expression softens into understanding.

Kurt brings a hand to Blaines cheek. His palm is warm, folded at the angle of Blaines jaw, and his thumb rubs across Blaines bottom lip. Blaine flicks his tongue out to meet it, and tastes salt and sex— some mixture of Kurts skin and his own intimate flavor from where Kurts been touching him. "You want me? For doing that first with you?" Kurt asks.

"I cant imagine ever wanting anyone more than I want you right now," Blaine says, and he means it with every piece of himself.

Kurt leans down, until his lips are close enough to Blaines that Blaine feels his breath and Kurts face is blurry. He murmurs, "Youll be so good for me, wont you, Blaine?"

"Yes," Blaine says, tipping his head back to invite a kiss. But the kiss never comes.

"But... " Kurt says, glancing away with a grimace. "I dont want to do it on your living room floor."

"Oh, no," Blaine says. "No, not here. I have everything we need in my room."

"Then," Kurt says, and theres an unexpected alluring shyness in his gaze. "I want to go to your room."

The cheesecake can wait.