Christmas morning finds Kurt waking up slowly to the sun shining through the attic window and shaggy hair tickling his nose. When he looks down he sees a head of messy curls pillowed on his chest, breathing lightly, making him smile. He shifts slightly, trying to get a little crick out of the small of his back, causing the curls to nuzzle and mumble incoherently, one of their arms pulling him closer while a leg insinuates itself between Kurt’s so there’s now little space between the two of them.

“Blaine,” he can’t help but giggle as curls and scruff tickle sensitive spots on his chest. He only gets another as answer so he slowly walks the fingers of the arm wrapped tightly around Blaine down his side, letting them make their way to his backside and to a certain crease, earning him that cute little whine from the previous night and a nip to the chest.

“Mm… Best wakeup call ever,” Blaine mumbles groggily and appreciatively before lifting his head and shifting again so that their bodies are lined up perfectly, letting the both of them feel each other’s morning arousals. Balancing himself on his forearms Blaine leans down and kisses Kurt slowly, deeply. Rising into it, Kurt wraps his legs around Blaine’s waist with a moan. Blaine threads a hand into the back of Kurt’s hair, slowly inching the other hands down to grasp the both of them. With a gasp Kurt pulls away from the kiss, thrusting up into the hand wrapped around him, shuddering at the feeling of the calloused fingers and the other warm, hard cock rubbing against his own. The friction is just at the line between painful and tantalizingly glorious, numbed only slightly by the pre-cum beading out of both their heads.

 After Kurt breaks the kiss Blaine moves on to nip at his collarbone, smoothing the sharper bites with little licks as he makes his way to the juncture between the neck and shoulder, leaving a small, reddish mark, before heading to the Adam’s apple. The vibrations of Kurt’s moan tickle his lips, making Blaine chuckle as he places chaste kisses up his chin, across his cheekbones, nose, forehead, eyelids. Kurt digs his heels into Blaine’s ass, trying to get him impossibly closer and to go faster, jerk and thrust harder. Getting the picture he complies, briefly removing the hand in Kurt’s hair to move one of Kurt’s hands to join his own around their cocks, threading their fingers together.

As he moves his hand in tandem with Blaine’s, Kurt fights not to get lost completely, determined to make the other man lose himself first – because Kurt is nothing if not competitive. So offers Blaine the fingers of his free hand to suck on, moaning deep in his chest when Blaine more than happily curls his tongue around them. Then, pulling them out this mouth with a pop, Kurt returns his fingers to their earlier exploration of Blaine’s entrance, this time inserting one when the muscle gives, still a little loose from their activities mere hours ago. Before long he has three fingers submerged to the knuckle, curling in search of the prostate. When he finds it, once again drawing out the adorable whine, he keeps rubbing against it lightly and smirking as the whine ratchets ever higher in octave until Blaine comes between them with a shudder.

Kurt removes that hand, the other still working Blaine through his orgasm and bringing himself closer to climax, the cum acting as a lubricant until he comes after a few more jerks, back arching off the bed as he cries his lover’s name.

After lying together cooling down for a few minutes Kurt finally unwraps his legs from Blaine’s waist and runs a hand through his curls as Blaine kisses his neck lazily. “Morning,” he mumbles into the skin under his lips.

Chuckling weakly Kurt keeps his hand moving to stroke down Blaine’s neck and back. “Morning.” 

Eventually the two actually get up and shower so that no one in the house will walk in on them lying in the bed, cuddling and sharing lazy kisses and caresses whilst still being naked. They take separate showers; otherwise they would take much longer than strictly necessary and risk someone actually coming up to check up on them to see what’s taking them so long. By ten o’clock they’re showered and dressed and head downstairs to the kitchen to retrieve coffee and maybe cinnamon rolls, only to have Patricia kick them out.

“Shoo boys,” she orders in her light Southern accent, pushing them toward the family room in which the tree and presents are set up. “Wait with your brother and the girls; I’ll bring everything out in a minute.”

Kurt can’t help but protest, “Please Patricia, at least let me help carry everything out.”

She relents, forcing Blaine to continue to the family room and the inevitable third degree he will get from Cooper and Rachel, as they will no doubt be able to tell something happened between Kurt and him. At least Quinn will be there to come to his rescue and reign in Rachel a bit.

As he predicted, as soon as Blaine enters the doorway Coop pounces on him. “So, squirt, how’re things?” he practically leers.

“Uhh… Fine?”

Blaine can almost hear it as Rachel rolls her eyes from across the room – though that isn’t an oddity in itself as this is Rachel -- where Quinn is keeping her pinned to the couch with a hand on her thigh. “Please Blaine, give us some credit; we know something has changed between the two of you. So you might as well just spill.”

Squirming, Blaine looks around a bit nervously. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says, looking everywhere but at the other people in the room and fighting hard not to blush; “you already know we’ve both said ‘I love you’ since you’re the ones that locked us in the room together.”

From behind him comes Cooper, slapping him heartily on the back. “C’mon Blainers, at least tell us you got some after the family dinner,” he wheedles.

Parroting, and hoping that will be enough, he replies, “I got some after the family dinner.”

Now he’s sure he can feel Quinn, who’s always known him the best, smirking across the room, hiding it behind her hand so as not to encourage Rachel – which of course does naught since she continues to barrage him with questions until Kurt and Patricia walk into the room with coffee and cinnamon rolls. Then, when Kurt walks over to Blaine with their own plate and mugs, he turns to place a chaste kiss on Blaine’s cheek – resisting the urge to give his ass a light squeeze as his brother is in the same room and he is not giving Cooper cannon fodder – inadvertently revealing the hickey Blaine sucked into existence during their early morning escapades, making Rachel squeal shrilly, “I knew it!”

Jumping, Kurt glances at Rachel who is pointing at him triumphantly as Quinn shakes her head while stifling a giggle and Cooper outright guffaws in apparent triumph. Confused, he looks back at Blaine who is staring at his neck, eyes wide, mug raised halfway to his lips, and when Kurt raises his hand and touches the spot in question he simultaneously winces – Why didn’t I wear a shirt with a higher collar? Or a scarf? – and shivers in pleasure at the memory of how he got that vaguely aching mark. So he does the only thing he can think of at the moment – he leans down the short distance between them and nudges Blaine’s forehead with his nose to bring him back to the present. When Blaine’s eyes shift up to meet Kurt’s own Kurt smiles reassuringly, melting Blaine’s slight panic instantly. After all, what does he have to panic about? Everyone there, while probably more obsessed about his love/sex life than strictly necessary and healthy, couldn’t care less about how he chooses to show his love for Kurt, just as long as he’s happy.

And that’s possibly the best feeling in the world.