"Yeah." Blaine smiles back reflexively, but he doesnt fully feel the emotion to go with it. Instead, he feels some tissue thin boundary within himself--or between him and Kurt--that threatens to tear, and hed be wise to leave it undisturbed for now. Tinas concern for him yesterday wasnt misplaced: too easily, he could let himself slip, fall into believing he has the ability not only to help Kurt but also to fix him. "This version is good for me too," Blaine says, but thats not quite enough either. Theres still a greater truth to tell, even if he may not quite trust himself with all of it. "But growing up? It wouldve been nice to have had a friend like you."

Kurts eyes widen and he opens his mouth to respond, but a frown soon mars his features and he presses his lips in a flat line. His eyes lose their focus and their warmth clouds. His gaze strays to the window and fixes there, staring at it more than out of it. With a new breath, he blinks, sets his jaw, and says, "Anyway." With his shoulders squared, he lays his hands flat on the table and surveys the dishes. "I should put the food away and clean up." He picks up Blaines empty plate to stack with his.

"Let me help?" Blaine says. He hurries to stand, snags both wine goblets between the fingers of a hand, grabs the bottle, tucks it under his arm, and picks up the oval platter that had held the bruschetta. Follows Kurt to the kitchen, where Kurt bends to put the plates in the dishwasher. Each plate, he slots with a sharp rattle.

Gently--and slowly--Blaine sets down the platter and bottle and puts the glasses by the sink.

"Wine pumps in the second one down," Kurt says, gesturing toward a bank of drawers. He straightens, and his lips twist unhappily. He plants his hands on his hips and looks at the counter. "Im sorry. Im sure Ive spoiled the mood for the night," Kurt says. "You can go take that plug out, if you want."

"Nothings spoiled," Blaine says, and softly he closes the drawer. "I was looking forward to your proposed later."

With a cock of an eyebrow, Kurts attention flicks to Blaine. "Still?" he asks, and theres more bitterness there than seems warranted. "Really, Blaine, youre off the hook. I can get by without you tonight."

"You dont have to though."

Kurt pulls his purple gloves out from under the sink along with the bottle of pink dish liquid. "Im not unfamiliar with taking care of myself when I need to," He says crisply. "Youre not my sex slave."

"I know that," Blaine says. He slips the dishtowel from its rail for lack of any better more obvious option. Hes not sure what boundary hes crossed exactly--Kurts the one who asked him the question.

But Kurts frown only deepens, and his hands tremble when he picks up the dishcloth. He swallows hard and starts washing a glass. His movements are quick and jerky. Studiously, he doesnt look at Blaine. "If you have other things youd rather be doing. Please, go do them. Im all right." He sounds defeated.

"Have I said something to offend you?"

Emphatically, Kurt shakes his head. "No," he says. "You havent done anything wrong."

"Then," Blaine says slowly, "I dont understand why--it seems like youre pushing me away right now? Unless you dont want my help?"

Kurt tips his head back and blinks at the ceiling. "Its not that," he says. "I just..." His breath shudders out and he glances sidelong at Blaine.

"You just what?" Blaine drops the towel to the counter. "Kurt, Im having a really hard time figuring out what you need from me right now."

"Youre so kind, Blaine. Thinking about--" He breaks off and starts over again. "Its too easy for me to look at you and... and regret. Things."

"Regret?"

"Hurting you."

"But you havent," Blaine says.

"Not yet," Kurt says, and theres that sad trembling smile again.

So Blaines not the only one whos been time traveling in his head. "Look, I get that other people have walked away from you, and I cant begin to imagine how that hurt you, or how frustrating this is for you now, but Im here for you, Kurt. I agreed to this and I made you a promise."

"People break their promises to me, Blaine. I dont expect you to be different. Im certainly not going to hold you to any promise you make me in the heat of trying to be a good person."

"Thats not very fair," Blaine says carefully. "To assume Im going to be the same as people whove left you? This is only my third day here with you."

Kurt braces his hands on the edge of the sink and bows his head. His shoulders hunch. "Youre right, Im sorry. That was unkind of me."

"You told me you wanted someone you could rely on. Give me a chance to show you that you can, please?"

Kurt shuts his eyes and nods.

"So, um, the dishes can wait," Blaine says softly, "If you need me now." Even more gently, he asks, "Do you need to come, Kurt?"

With a grimace, Kurt nods again. When he opens his eyes theyre glazed bright. He turns toward Blaine and hugs himself, looks utterly miserable when he says, "Im sorry."

"Oh, hey, no, dont apologize for that," Blaine says, and he dares to reach for Kurt, pulls him into his arms. "Its okay. Please, will you believe me?"

Kurts arms unfold jerkily between them, and tentatively they come around Blaine and tentatively his fingers press into Blaines back. Slowly the rigidity of his muscles eases and he tucks his face against Blaines shoulder. He sniffs. "The problem is I do believe you, and its so hard for me to trust that feeling."

"Yeah, okay," Blaine says, and his heart aches for Kurt. "Can you at least maybe trust me to tell you if Im not up for it?"

"Ill try, but when Im being such a asshole, how can you still want to?"

Blaine tips his head sideways against Kurts. "Easy," Blaine says. "I like you."

Kurt chuckles weakly. "Are you telling me you like assholes?"

Blaine laughs and pulls back. "Seriously?"

"Fine, yeah, okay," Kurt says, hiccuping through his own laughter and rubbing over his face with his hands. "God. You dont need to answer that."

"Come on," Blaine says, stepping away and tugging Kurts elbow. "Lets go to your bedroom and Ill take care of you?"

Kurt lets Blaine lead him from the kitchen and down the hall.

##

In Kurts room, Kurts trails behind Blaine and still moves stiffly. Blaines not seen him this passive before, so instead of asking him what he wants, Blaine asks, "Would you like to lie down, and Ill undress you?"

"Okay," Kurt says placidly, and he gets on his bed, lowering himself to his back slowly, his gaze fixed at Blaines shirt collar.

It makes Blaine wonder about times when Kurt had a boyfriend. On nights when, maybe, the mood was spoiled for the boyfriend and Kurt still needed this intimate attention. Did past boyfriends refuse him or make him feel guilty for needing them? Blaine unbuttons Kurts shirt, smiles at him as he does. Kurt looks up at him with wide unblinking eyes. He doesnt smile back, just stares at Blaine like hes trying to memorize him.

And Blaine aims to keep his focus on Kurt. He shouldnt try to guess at the vices or failures of Kurts previous lovers or the nature of Kurts past relationships. Kurts told him enough for Blaine to understand that he, in this non-boyfriend role with Kurt, needs to be consistent in his care for Kurt, so Kurt can feel safe. Blaine keeps quiet and undoes Kurts pants, drags them and his underwear down his legs and off. Rolls Kurts socks off his feet, and then gets to work on his own clothes.

From the living room, music still plays faintly, filtering into the space between them, alleviating what might otherwise be an uncomfortable silence. Blaine gets off the bed to remove his trousers and Kurt lifts up to reach to the nightstand, gets a condom out, lube. Blaine comes back and straddles him; the plug pulls weirdly in his ass, reminding him its still there. "Shall I ride you?" he asks. "Would you enjoy that?" He reaches for Kurts erection, gives it a firm stroke and circles the pad of his thumb over the shining head. "Or I can use my hand?"

"Up to you," Kurt says, shivering, but he reaches for Blaines thigh, hesitates to touch his only half-hard cock. "But youre not... anymore."

"Ill get back there soon enough." Blaine says, and he reaches back to the base of the plug, to pull it free.

"No, wait," Kurt says. He catches hold of Blaines arm, takes a deep breath, and his gaze turns clear and determined. "I said I was going to-- I wanted to do this for you. Would you turn around? Please, Blaine?"

"Sure," Blaine says easily, though his skin prickles with some apprehension. Its not that he doubts Kurts intentions, only that with Kurts mood vacillating as it is, itd be helpful to see Kurts face while they do this. But maybe Kurt doesnt want to be looked at.

And then Kurts hands are on him, on his ass, and Kurts gently tugging at the base of the plug, and Blaine forgets his concerns. The widest bead feels far too large to come back out easily, and reflexively Blaine flinches at the way his body resists the pull. Kurt rubs his skin soothingly. "We just need more lube," he says. "Itll be fine."

He rubs more slick around Blaines hole, pushes some in alongside the neck of the plug, twists and jiggles the toy a little--which is, yes, very nice. It sends a flicker of interest up Blaines spine and his cock pulses harder.

And then slowly Kurt starts tugging it out again. "Push out a little for me, honey?" he asks, so softly, with such concentration in his voice. His fingers are right there, at Blaines rim, spreading him a little and freshly lubricating the plug as the fattest part stretches Blaine wide. Kurt stops there and pauses with the plugs thickest part held immobile.

All Blaine can feel is that stillness and the stretch of his body around it. Blaine bows his head, breathing deeply and aching pleasantly with the unyielding width of it.

"Now relax," Kurt says, and he eases the base back in, just a nudge really. Blaines body swallows the plug back up again. Strange relief and a frisson of heat along with it. Blaine shudders and shifts back against Kurts hold on the plug, then rocks his hips forward, feeling the pressure change in his gut, the tempting tug against his rim.

"Feels good? You want more of that?" Kurt asks.

Blaine hums his assent--and has the wherewithal to reach down between his legs to find Kurts cock.

"Scoot back a little for me," Kurt says, and the confidence is returning to his voice.

Blaine does.

"And dont touch your own cock--just mine?"

"Okay."

"Okay," Kurt confirms, and then hes pulling again, pulling the plugs thickest bead out and then pushing it back in. He starts slow, content to pop just the last bead in and out, and Blaine shivers at how each time, the sensation scatters fresh little sparks all through his body. He tightens his hand on Kurts cock, strokes firmly, as evenly as he can--which is not very--and he has to use his free hand to support his own weight as he tips forward.

Kurt gradually increases the length of the pulls, dragging out each bead, one at a time. He works them deliberately, until just the smallest bead is still nestled inside. The he drives them all back in, one smooth jostling push. The friction of the plug, even generously lubricated, feels hotter than body heat, rumbling and rippling deep inside, and Blaine feels so greedy around it. Kurts still not moving it fast; hes letting Blaine feel everything, which is both too much and not enough.

Between his legs his cock hangs heavy; and his balls, drum-head tight. Kurt rubs a slick thumb down his perineum and over his balls, his fingertips dance over the taut skin, but nothing about it soothes or distracts from the sensation gathering around the movement of the plug. Intense as it is, Kurts giving him nothing to satisfy, just a sustained erotic torment to rouse his appetite for more and more--for something more stable, sustained, and solid.

"Pass me a condom?" Blaine says, letting go of Kurts cock and reaching back. "Please?"

Kurt presses the flat foil square into Blaines open palm.

Blaines hands are steady as he gets the condom on Kurt, and Kurt pulls the plug out all the way, one marvelous judder of retreat, leaving Blaine empty and needful. He still feels wet enough that the lube on the condom should be enough. Blaine lifts up and guides Kurts cock to his opening, sinks down fast, with a groan of relief.

Kurts hands are on his lower back and buttocks, petting and squeezing. Blaine pulls forward and pushes back, not a long movement, but a decisive one.

"Thats it," Kurt says. More of a sigh really. Grateful, pleasured. Encouraging.

Blaine braces his hands on Kurts thighs, just above his knees and works for it, sweating and struggling to keep it even. The plugs left him aching so much, greedy for more, but the angle isnt quite what he needs, nor the friction. He moves faster and only succeeds in pulling all the way off Kurts dick. Kurt cries out--surprised and dismayed.

"S-sorry," Blaine grits out, reaching back, bringing Kurt back where he wants him, and Kurts hands are on his waist, pulling him back and urging him to straighten as he sinks back down.

"No... oh, shh," Kurt says. "This is... great. Your ass is fantastic. You should see the view Ive got, best seat in the house."

Blaine laughs, sharp and sudden. "I dont know," he says as he regains his balance, hands free, on his knees. He lifts up, and drops down. "Mines pretty good too," he says, but its still too slow, he cant quite catch the sensations his body craves. "I just need to..." He pulls a knee forward, determined to get one foot under himself, but Kurts hands tighten on him.

"Come on and lean back," Kurt says, tugging at his ribs.

Blaine tips his weight back, but even with the support of Kurts hands, he feels at risk of falling. Blindly he reaches behind himself, gets a hold on Kurts arm, turns his head to try to see. Hesitates.

"Its okay," Kurt says, "Come all the way back and lie down against me, Ive got you."

Blaine catches Kurts face in his peripheral vision. "Wont I crush you?"

"No," Kurt says. "Trust me, youll like it."

Blaine leans back, slowly, and Kurt supports him as he goes, half-blind and trusting, until his quads are pulled tight, his upper back is against Kurts chest, and Kurts breath tickles the side of his neck and his nose brushes Blaines earlobe.

"I cant move," Blaine says with a gust of laughter and a shallow, useless grind of his hips. "Not much anyway."

"Unfold your legs and brace yourself. Let me worry about the moving."

Gingerly, Blaine shifts to unbend one leg at a time, and Kurts hands roam over his torso and chest, stroking from his solar plexus to his groin, and then skipping up over his ribs to pinch at his nipples and caress his collarbones. Blaine plants his feet on the mattress and Kurt slides his hands down, one to steady Blaines pelvis, the other to fold around his cock.

"Are you good?" Kurt asks, and he rocks his hips a few times as if to query Blaines approval, squeezes a slow pull up Blaines dick. The deep slide of Kurts cock is magnificent, an undulating pressure right where Blaine needs it, thick and full and certain.

Blaine nods and grits out, "Yes, but can you... uh, hmm... faster, please?"

"Uh huh," Kurt says, and he doesnt tease or play--he just moves smoothly into fucking Blaine with even slapping strokes of his cock, quicker than Blaine would have thought possible for their position. Blaines laid open, spread and taken. Draped, arched and splayed across Kurts body, like Kurts an altar and Blaines the sacrifice.

Kurt works over his cock and balls with his hands and relentlessly plies Blaines ass with his dick. Blaine braces his feet against the bed, rolls his head against Kurts shoulder, and closes his eyes. Kurts moans buzz against Blaines skin where his lips are mashed, open and breathless, against Blaines shoulder--and also deeper, resonating in the hollow spaces of Blaines ribcage. Blaine hangs on, fingers twisted up tight in the bedspread.

Beneath him, Kurt comes with a shudder and a strong heartbeat pulse in Blaines ass. But he keeps fucking Blaine and jerking Blaines cock into a quick driving blur. He shudders again, sucking hard at the dip of Blaines neck. "Come on," he rasps. "Come for me, Blaine. Let me feel it."

The orgasm wadding up in Blaines belly finally gives, blooming into the sweet crushing bliss of release. It ripples up his spine and leaves him disoriented and breathless. Wrung out and--as he comes back into himself--feeling as if he has far too much body now--too many legs and arms and weight and cumbersome joints and muscles to coordinate. Clumsily he pulls off Kurt and tips over to drop himself face down against Kurts bedspread.

"Oh, holy hell," he whisper-groans.

Kurt shifts beside him, his warmth draws near, his skin hot against Blaines side, and his palm heavy upon Blaines back. "Me too," he says, and his lips bend against Blaines shoulder. "Thank you so much." Then Kurts warmth retreats and the mattress bounces as Kurt flops back, away from Blaine, and sighs deeply.

It soon becomes clear to Blaine that hell not be moving any time soon. With effort, Blaine turns his head to face Kurt. Finds him stretched out on his back with his head turned, watching Blaine with a sleepy gaze. He smothers a yawn with the back of his hand and smiles.

"See?" Blaine says.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing was spoiled."

Though Kurt laughs, something serious flickers in his gaze. He glances down, strokes over his bedding, and says, "Except maybe my bedspread."

"Oh," Blaine pushes himself up on unsteady arms to survey the damage beneath him. "Geez, Im sorry..."

"Occupational hazard," Kurt says.

Blaine flumps back down. "Are you implying I fuck like its my job?" he asks, grinning. "I cant tell if thats a compliment or not."

Kurts laughter sparkles. "Not you, dummy, the bedspread."

"Dummy?"

Kurt twitches a shoulder. "Well? Youre nice to suck on?"

Blaine winces as he laughs, and Kurt bites into his smile.

"At any rate, its machine washable, and I have a spare, so dont worry. Pass me the tissues?"

Blaine grabs the edge of the box and drags it over to the bed. Kurt plucks a few out and gets the condom off himself and wrapped neatly. He sets it aside, and catches Blaine watching him. "What?"

"Maybe I have found my true vocation," Blaine says, warm and teasing.

"Hows that?"

"Fucking you could be it."

Kurt tries--and fails--not to smile more widely. "I bet pick up lines are not your forté."

"Not so much. Ive usually been the pickee more than the picker."

"That makes you sound like some kind of nose picking fetishist."

"Is that even a thing?"

"I have no idea. Probably, for someone?"

"Takes all sorts," Blaine says.

"Fortunately for you, Ive always had a soft spot for the cheesy one liners."

"What about the boys who deliver them?" The words leave his mouth so easily, and Blaine hopes its not too brazen a flirtation given Kurts earlier reservations.

"Depends," Kurt says.

"On what?"

"Whether I believe them." Its a kind of confession--and perhaps an affirmation too.

Emboldened, Blaine offers his own: "I like how... free you are with sex."

But at that Kurt frowns. "Free?" Theres a note of caution in his voice. "What do you mean?"

"Like--youre so open, as a lover," Blaine explains. "Honest. Youre not... ashamed."

Kurts eyebrows rise. "I cant afford to be, god knows enough people have tried to make me."

"Thats sad," Blaine says. "You dont deserve that."

Kurt rolls to his side and bows his head. "I know, but people, in my experience, often suck. And not in the fun way."

Between them, rests Kurts hand, Blaine drags his arms out from where its trapped under his chest and strokes Kurts knuckles lightly, lingering to fit his fingertips in the soft dips between the bones. "But you must have some good experiences," Blaine says. "To be so good yourself."

"Flattery, huh?" Then Kurts smile turns wistful. "Thereve been good times."

"Whats the best youve had? If you dont mind telling?"

"Oh god," Kurt says, and he tips his head back and stares at the ceiling as he thinks. "Probably... god, this is horribly cheesy, but probably my first time with my first boyfriend?"

"Yeah?"

"I felt so connected and safe with him. And hopeful. I was perfectly happy in the moment. It was the first time all this didnt seem so overwhelming and complicated and impossible."

"You were in love?"

"Completely," Kurt says, but the wistfulness in his smile fades. He turns back to Blaine. "What about you? Whats the best sex youve had?"

"Honestly?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "No, Blaine, lie to me."

Blaine laughs. "You should know, Im not saying this to kiss your ass, but--"

"Hey, I dont mind if you want to kiss my ass. Im all for a good ass kissing."

Blaine shakes his head and grins. "No points for the obvious," he says.

"Oh, what? Are we keeping score now?" Kurt turns his hand beneath Blaines, offering his palm.

"No," Blaine says, and he softens his voice, threads his fingers with Kurts, sobers. "Its just that so far," he says, "the best Ive had has been with you."

"Really?" Kurt blinks and flushes.

"Really."

"Oh," Kurt says. "I dont know what to say to that."

"I told you. Youre good at this. You make me feel safe too."

Kurts gaze is soft when he looks up. "Actually, thats nice to hear," he says. "I hope youll continue to feel that way."

"Well, youre keeping me occupied well enough, you wont have any competition."

"Occupied?" Kurt says. "Speaking of occupied..." Kurt reaches across and slips his fingers between Blaines buttocks, lightly rubs over Blaines hole but doesnt penetrate. "Not tonight," he says. "Your assll be needing a break, but do you think you might be able to sleep with a plug in sometimes? Maybe not that one--but something more discreet?"

"Yes," Blaine says. "Id like to try anyway."

"That way, I can come in and--well, how much of your old fantasy would you enjoy having translated into real life?"

"Oh..." Blaine says, and shivers with a thrill. His body is well sated for now, but just the thought of it rouses his minds interest. "As much as inspires you," he says.

##

After they clean up and dress, Kurt returns to the kitchen to finish doing the dishes, and when Blaine offers his help Kurt says, "Honestly, Blaine, as much as I do like spending time with you, Im accustomed to living alone, and I could use a little time to myself tonight just cleaning up and restoring order. Ill take some laundry down and tidy up here and--that helps me reset."

"All right," Blaine says. "Ill make myself scarce then?"

"Feel free to--I dont know, take a long shower or something? Or, watch something in the living room. That wont bother me."

"Its been a while since Ive had access to a decent tub," Blaine says. "Do you mind if l have a bath?"

"Theres bubble bath and bath oils under the sink," Kurt says, "help yourself."

"Cool," Blaine says. "Thank you."

So he draws a hot bath and lies in Kurts generous curvy tub surrounded by rose and sandalwood scented bubbles. Hes got his earbuds in and his iPod resting on a reclaimed teak stool next to the bath. Blaine listens to his relaxation playlist--currently a meditative track of Buddhist temple bells and running water courtesy of Cooper. Its his own way of resetting--or it used to be, when he was at home in Ohio and he needed the space and quiet, to withdraw himself back into his own emotional limits.

He takes his time, drifting along with the music, clearing his mind, and letting go of each tension he catalogs in his muscles. When the waters cooled from hot to warm, he drains some and turns on the hot tap to refresh it. An hour and change later, hes toweling off and slipping into a fresh set of light cotton pajamas. After the sex and more sex and the bath, hes wonderfully loose and easy and clean. His bed tempts, but he wants to say good night to Kurt first--check in with him.

He finds Kurt at the kitchen island folding dishtowels.

"Hey," Blaine says.

"Good bath?" Kurt asks, tucking the neat stack of linen towels away under the sink. The kitchen is back to sparkling and precise order.

"Yeah," Blaine says. "A perfect cap to the day," he says. "I was about to head to bed."

"Mmm," Kurt says, "Not yet."

"No?" Blaine queries. "Do you need--?"

"Cake," Kurt says quickly. "Well have some cake, ice cream, and chamomile tea, and then well be done with today."

"That sounds great."

Kurt turns off the music and they watch Jimmy Fallon while they nibble their cake and ice cream and sip their tea. Kurts curled up, content in his armchair while Blaines on the sofa. They dont talk much, not even when Kurt fast forwards through the ads, but its comfortable.

They say good night in the hall, and Blaine picks up his tablet, intending to read for a while, but he falls asleep before he gets through a whole page.

He wakes again around two AM thirsty and needing to relieve his bladder--the perils of tea before bed. He makes his way quietly to the bathroom and then out to the kitchen. The moon drapes a pale light upon the room. Blaine fills a glass from the tap and hears Kurts door open.

Kurt shuffles out to the kitchen, adorably sleep rumpled and loosely tugging the sash of his robe. "There you are," he says, luminous in the silver light.

Blaine finishes his glass of water and goes to Kurt. "Here I am."

##

They lie down together on Blaines bed and Kurt pushes his hand into Blaines pajama pants, palms his soft cock, while he noses into the open collar of Blaines top. "Would you fuck me, please?"

"Youre not sore?"

"No," Kurt says, "I want you." And Blaine swiftly thickens in his hand. Kurt scoots down and pulls the waistband of Blaines pants down and sucks him fully erect while Blaine unbuttons his top and reaches down to stroke through Kurts messy hair. Kurts mouth is good, hot and mobile, and Blaine would be content to come like this--until Kurt lifts his head, shrugs off his robe and lies down, on his side, the curve of his spine a fine dipping curve of shadow to draw Blaines hand. "Come spoon up behind me," Kurt says over his shoulder.

Blaine moves closer behind Kurt, kisses his shoulder softly and cant resist saying, "I thought you wanted me to fork you?"

"Oh dear." Kurt snorts indelicately into the pillow.

"You were asking for that one," Blaine says, grinning as he skims his hand down Kurts back to his sacrum and lower until he finds Kurt, open, slippery, and warm--ready for him. "Wide open for it."

Kurts laughter turns to giggles. "God, stop. I cant breathe."

"Nope," Blaine says cheerfully. "Im not stopping until youre satisfied." He slips a finger in to feel Kurt clench hot and tight around him.

"Oh," Kurts giggles break into a soft, needful moan. "Please, Blaine," Kurt says and hitches a leg up to chest.

Blaine nuzzles behind Kurts ear, exhaling softly to rouse a shiver. He kisses his neck, where Kurts seemed most sensitive, and hes rewarded with a lovely long pleasured sigh. Blaine eases another finger into the grip of Kurts ass, fucks in and out, feeling the glossy heat inside, anticipate burying himself in it. "You feel so good," Blaine tells him.

"Dont forget the condom," Kurt whispers. "Unless youre only going to use your hand."

"No," Blaine says. "Im going to fuck you with my cock, I just--I wanted to feel you like this first."

"Oh," Kurt says, unreadable tone. He stiffens.

"Is it.... too much?" Blaine asks, drawing his fingers out and pushing back in.

A nod and a pause, and then Kurt says, "I dont like being teased, can you just do it?"

Get it over with, Blaine hears, unspoken in Kurts voice, but he swallows down that disappointment and reorients himself on his proper goal of simply making Kurt come. "Yes," he says, and reaches back for the condom.

He fucks Kurt neat and even, and not, Blaine hopes, too roughly. Kurt pants and whines and praises him--and he comes twice before Blaine does. Blaine withdraws and Kurt grabs his hand, brings it to his cock, and rolls to his back. "More, please?"

"Okay," Blaine says, "yes." He strokes Kurt through a third, weaker orgasm, and Kurts hand tightens on his wrist.

"Another?" Blaine asks.

"Sorry," Kurt says as he winces and nods.

"Its fine," Blaine says. He scoots down and sucks Kurt as he jerks him. It takes a while for Kurt to come one last time, dry and heaving.

"Finally," Kurt mutters into the darkness. Its not directed at Blaine.

Blaine rests his head on Kurts thigh and cups his hand over Kurts slowly softening cock. Kurts fingers lightly rake the back of his neck. "Sorry," Kurt says again. "I dont know why I needed so much. I was feeling okay, and then--"

"You need to stop apologizing to me," Blaine says, and he nuzzles at the smooth skin of Kurts groin, kisses lingeringly up to the jut of Kurts hipbone before he lifts his head. "And for what its worth. Before? I didnt mean to tease you, Kurt. I just..." He lets out a shaky gust of air and skims his fingertips over the fine hair of Kurts upper thigh. "I wanted to make you feel really good."

Kurts fingers twitch against the back of Blaines neck, and then his hand is gone. He pushes himself to sit up, gently shifts his lap from under Blaines head. "Thank you, Blaine, thats sweet. But I need to get back to bed."

"Yeah, okay, of course," Blaine says, and he sits up too, to watch Kurt leave. A cold weight settles in the pit of his stomach. "Sleep well."

##

In the morning over a modest weekday breakfast of cereal, toast, fruit, and yogurt, Blaine is quiet. Not conspicuously so, he hopes--no more quiet than first thing in the morning adequately accounts for, and certainly not quiet in a manner that may be mistaken for passive aggression. Hes not in that sort of mood. And anyway, he knows to check those impulses and how to recalibrate. Its simply that he needs to fall back and regroup. Though the military metaphor isnt one he prefers, after last night, increasingly, stepping back and listening and observing--reconnaissance of a sort, but nothing covert--may be to both his and Kurts benefit.

Perhaps the immediate, adventurous, and surprisingly validating physical intimacy has lent their interpersonal intimacy a momentum of both ease and inevitability, even within the clearly established Not Boyfriends rule. Its important to remember this isnt a romance, and Kurt isnt his best friend. Blaines here to provide a companionable and reliable service.

More than that? He cannot, out of fairness, pursue or expect. Its been too easy--for both of them, Blaine suspects--to tumble toward a level of emotional engagement that their nascent relationship cannot bear well. Time to slow down. Kurts fears are plain: he likes Blaine and he wants their arrangement to work, but experience has left him bruised, skittish, and doubtful. The closer they are, the more that fear manifests. So Blaine will be safe and uncomplicated. While this may not be his job in any strict sense, he can still conduct himself professionally. He wont get too comfortable or familiar. Wont push. Hell be kind, pay attention, and be available.

So, beyond the functional and friendly chitchat of the mornings necessities, he waits for Kurt to make any overtures of deeper conversation. Kurt asks him his plans for the day and gives him both Arties cell number and the address of Arties studio in the Navy Yard. They discuss the theme for Fridays dinner--Italian or Greek? Maybe Turkish--or Egyptian?

"A Mediterranean Medley?" Blaine suggests.

Which makes Kurt laugh and reply, "I like the sound of that!"

Then Kurt talks about finding the right fabric for the dress hes designing for his step-mother. "About all Ive decided on is it should be a nice raisin purple," he says. "And nothing too heavy or unbreathably synthetic. The humidity in D.C. is vile, but a cocktail dress of linen or cotton--I dont know if I could make that work. Maybe raw silk?" he asks Blaine as if Blaines opinion is an expert one.

"That sounds like an elegant option to me," Blaine says, and Kurt smiles, apparently satisfied.

Its both that easy and not. Regardless, its a relief when Kurt sets the dishes in the sink and turns to Blaine to ask, "Come shower with me?"