The next morning begins much the same as the previous one. Blaine wakes to the noise of Kurt in the kitchen before Cooper shuffles out of bed and takes his coffee into the bathroom with him, leaving them alone for the first time since yesterdays conversation was stopped midway through. But neither of them are willing to bring it up, so the minutes drag by with polite conversation and silly jokes and the usual eye rolls, until thankfully, Cooper emerges.

But once again like yesterday he's gone all too soon, leaving them alone, the situation mirroring yesterday scarily.

As soon the door clicks shut, they turn and stare at each other, separated by only a few feet. "So, er, about yesterday…" Kurt begins, willing himself to just say the things he's been thinking. Just to tell Blaine no, he doesn't want to stop kissing him or touching him, but before he can Blaine speaks, all at once and fast, reminding Kurt strangely of his first question to Blaine all those months ago which started this whole situation.

"I-don't-want-this-to-stop," Blaine says in a heartbeat, hands wringing together in front of him as he takes a hesitant step closer to Kurt. Kurt's eyebrows shoot up, shocked by his outburst but feeling relieved nonetheless.

"You- you don't?" he asks unsurely.

"No, I don't," Blaine repeats. "I mean… I don't know what this is," he motions between there increasingly closer bodies, "and obviously it's not- not necessarily even a thing, I mean… you-know-what-I-mean," he worries, "but I- I do know that I don't want it to stop just because of Cooper," he says.

"Okay…" Kurt begins, "so we're- we're just going to carry on, and not tell Cooper, and not- not label whatever this is?" Kurt asks, just to be clear.

"Uh, yeah, pretty much, if you want, that is…" Blaine trails off nervously, biting his lips and shrugging Kurt's favourite little shrug.

Secretly Blaine knows exactly what he'd like to label them as; boyfriends. But all night he'd lain in bed and weighed up his options, and he figured the chances of Kurt, gorgeous, sexy, intelligent Kurt, wanting to actually be his boyfriend and have a relationship with him, dorky, short, 16 year old Blaine, were pretty slim. Non existent really.

So, as much as he wants that, he decided to try for the more plausible idea of just offering himself up, and seeing whether there's the slightest chance Kurt might want him just a little. So he watches with hopeful, bright eyes as Kurt blinks a few times and then smiles, slow and languid, the kind of smile which makes Blaine's stomach flip with anticipation.

"Yes," Kurt says through a half-sigh, "I want," he nods and laughs under his breath, feeling relief flood his body. He's actually allowed to touch Blaine now, to touch him and kiss him and lay him out.

"Okay, right," Blaine says between breaths, now able to feel Kurt's heat licking at him from how close they're standing, both having subconsciously edged forward.

"You can kiss me now," Kurt says with a cocky smile, leaning down a couple of inches to breath against Blaine's lips, revelling in his sharp intake of breath.

"Okay, right," Blaine repeats, staring up into blissful blue and drowning momentarily. He reaches out blindly and wraps his right hand around Kurt's arm, steadying himself before he leans up, eyes locked with Kurt's until their lips barely graze, feeling his own eyelashes flutter closed and breathing in Kurt's taste, moaning unintentionally. He closes the small gap, and feels Kurt's already open mouth close over his own, his tongue already licking a line along Blaine's lip and pressing in, slow and endlessly sweet.

They kiss leisurely for an endless number of minutes, hands pressing over skin and into hair, lacing around necks and holding their bodies impossibly close. Little noises escape their lips every so often, moans and gasps, a whimper when Kurt steps forward, pressing Blaine's back into the kitchen counter, his hands winding around the boys body to grasp the globes of his ass in each hand, feeling him buck and want beneath him, his cock hardening against Kurt's thigh.

So eventually Kurt pulls back, breathing ragged and quick, nerves thrumming with desire, his hands lift to the hem of Blaine's too-big sweats, sliding an inch beneath the fabric, resting on the high curve of his ass before finding his eyes, silently asking permission. Blaine nods minutely, not caring at that moment as long as Kurt's hands stay on him, along with his lips and his body.

Slowly Kurt pushes down the fabric, letting it drop as soon as it loosens, pooling at Blaine's ankles, revealing his broad thighs, dark haired and hard against Kurt's own, his calves beautifully defined. Kurt can't help the small groan in his chest at the sight, before swallowing heavily and following the lines of Blaine's body up to his blown wide eyes, bitten red lips and flushed pink cheeks. His innocent expression coupled with his cock growing hard between them makes Kurt's body shudder with desire.

"Fuck," he mutters before closing the gap again, slamming their lips together much more forcefully, eliciting a sharp, keening cry from Blaine as his hands fall back, bracing himself against the counter as Kurt presses completely against him, head to toe flushed, feeling his cock ache with how hard he is. "Can I…?" Kurt breaths against his lips, nipping gently as his fingers slide two inches into his boxers.

"Mmhmm," Blaine hums, lips moving to graze the long, hard line of Kurt's neck, stretched tight and faintly stubbly when he reaches his sharp jaw, kissing up to the corner of his mouth and moaning wantonly as Kurt roughly shoves his boxers down, wriggling his hips until they fall to the floor, Kurt's tongue dancing patterns against the roof of his mouth.

And then all at once he's being hoisted into the air, his arms clinging instinctively around Kurt's shoulders as he muffles a small scream and laughs into his hair, earning a chuckle before Kurt plants him firmly on the kitchen counter. He then leans to suck little chunks of Blaine's neck between his lips. Not hard enough to bruise, just hard enough to elicit the filthiest little gasps and mewls from Blaine who arches back, hands falling behind himself, steadying as he thrusts uselessly into air, head thrown back and eyes closed.

He's lost in a world of sensations, the rough drag of teeth on his neck followed by the soft, wet slide of lips, the grasp of hands down his ribs and stomach, hips and thigh, the lack of friction on his cock making his body practically tremble. Then out of nowhere a blood-hot hand is sliding beneath the fabric of his thin vest, over the soft curve of his stomach, round to his waist, but it's not stopping, it's too much, it's too close.

He gasps and flinches away from the touch, pushing at Kurt unintentionally hard, both hands shooting to hold down the fabric, his breath catching in his throat in a stifled choke of words as Kurt freezes and straightens in front of him.

"I- sorry," Kurt instantly apologises, taking a hesitant step forward, hands rising uselessly to comfort Blaine, but not knowing where to touch. "I'm sorry, I thought- well it doesn't matter what I thought, I should've asked, I'm so sorry," he's practically pleading now as Blaine continues to watch him with wide eyes, breathing calming, the shaking in his hands subsiding.

He slides off the kitchen counter before kneeling quickly to tug his boxers and sweats up, feeling frighteningly exposed. He breaths slowly for a few seconds, licking his dry lips and blinking to stop the tears which he can feel swelling as he winds his right arm around his waist, subconsciously running his fingers along his ribs beneath the thin fabric.

"Oh god, please don't cry," Kurt begs, and only then does Blaine realise that tears have indeed filled his eyes, making his vision swim at the edges.

"I- sorry," he mutters, wiping them away frantically.

"No no no," Kurt says hurriedly, stepping forward, arms lifting to hold him but dropping lamely to his sides once again. "I'm sorry," he repeats, "I over-stepped and you have every right to be upset," he tries to reassure Blaine. "I should have asked and I-"

But Blaine just laughs a little bitterly, cutting Kurt off with his own words, "I'm not upset over you wanting to touchme," he says, smiling up at Kurt slowly, sniffling a little and feeling utterly useless. "I'm upset because I can't bring myself to be touched, not- not there anyway," he explains vaguely, rubbing at his now-red eyes and sighing heavily.

"I don't understand," Kurt says quietly, reaching out to stroke his hands down each of Blaine's bare arms, feeling goosebumps beneath his palms, the skin cold and soft. "You- you want me to touch you but you can't?" Kurt asks, trying to understand.

"I… no- yeah. Eurgh," Blaine growls in frustration, squeezing past Kurt to leave the confines of the kitchen, escaping into the open space of the living room. He crosses to the couch and runs a hand over the fabric, his back to Kurt. His bed is still unfolded, the blankets tangled and messy. His right arm is still twisted around his body, fingers running over the fabric, feeling the skin beneath it. "It's just my, my side and- and back," he whispers just loud enough for Kurt to hear.

"What about them?" Kurt asks, having made his way over from the kitchen, moving to sit on the edge of the makeshift bed, looking up at Blaine where he's stood behind the couch.

"You remember the- the dance?" Blaine asks, swallowing back more tears as memories flood his mind; the terrifying embrace of darkness, wet, hard concrete beneath him, screams muffled by the night.

Kurt nods, "I remember," he says, feeling fear swell like a wave inside him.

"Well, I dunno how much my parents or Coop told you about my- my injuries but there was pretty bad scarring and I'm not- I'm not entirely comfortable with that part of myself," he manages to say, resolutely avoiding Kurt's eyes and staring instead at where the rough fabric of the couch catches on the slight calluses of his fingers.

"Oh Blaine," Kurt sighs, watching Blaine's eyes flicker up to meet his, a smile curling his lips, disappearing far too fast for it to have been real as his head drops again. "You're gorgeous," Kurt says truthfully, frowning when Blaine instantly begins to shake his head.

"I'm not," he mutters, still avoiding eye contact, "I'm scarred and short and I'm not broad like guys are supposed to be. I'm not strong and muscley like you are and-"

"Shut up," Kurt says suddenly, making Blaine stop mid speech, his head shooting up in shock. "Come here," Kurt demands, opening his arms in offering.

Blaine hesitates a moment before shuffling on bare feet over to Kurt, allowing the older man to pull him between his knees where he's still sat on the sofa bed. Kurt tightens his legs either side of Blaine's knees and rests his chin on the younger boy's stomach, staring up at him, his hands rubbing over his hips. "You're gorgeous," he repeats, pressing a quick kiss to his stomach through the thin fabric, his barrier from what he hates most about himself. "Don't shake your head because you are," he emphasises, anticipating Blaine's denial and pinching his thigh, making a real smile curl his lips.

"You're not 'scarred' and 'short' and not 'broad' enough," Kurt laughs, "you're brave," he emphasises with a hard kiss to his left hip, pleading with his eyes for Blaine to believe him, because it's the truth. "And… maybe-a-little-below-average-height-but-by-no-means-unusually-small," he says in one long breath, leaning back and pulling his never-been-touched boy over him, watching him roll his eyes but willingly moving. "And there's no definitive answer for how broad guys are meant to be," Kurt promises, pulling Blaine's entire weight on top of him and rubbing his hands over Blaine's shoulders, "and you're plenty broad to me," he smiles, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to the knot of bones atop Blaine right shoulder, feeling him smile against his neck.

"And as for all that other crap, you're 16 Blaine," Kurt reassures him, pressing a kiss to his hairline and smiling up at him, "guys don't stop growing till they're like 21, so you've got five years yet," he says with a smile, feeling Blaine nuzzle into his neck.

"Thank you," he murmurs against Kurt's neck, feeling silly and stupid for getting upset. He doesn't believe what Kurt's saying, he knows he's only saying it to make him feel better and he also knows that Kurt could get any guy he wants. He's literally the epitome of perfect, but Blaine's willing to at least try to ignore his own insecurities, not wanting to seem even more childish and inexperienced in front of Kurt. "Sorry I got upset I just-"

"There's no reason to apologise," Kurt assures him, pulling Blaine up so he's hovering right over Kurt, "I promise," he says before slowly sliding their lips together.

It's slower and gentler than before, taking their time to map the feel of the body against theirs, Kurt's hands staying well away from Blaine's sensitive spots, just grazing down his arms and around his neck, the base of his spine and over his ass, adjusting his thighs so that their hips slot together, earning a pleased groan from Blaine.

Kurt smiles into the kiss and pulls away, "roll over," he instructs gently before turning with Blaine, twisting a little in the blankets until he's on top. He stands after exchanging a few more languid, lazy kisses, placing his hands on Blaine's slightly spread knees from where he himself had just been lying, pushing him further up the bed until the backs of his knees press against the bedding. He can't help but smirk at the bulge in Blaine's pants, tenting the fabric and making the younger boy blush and wriggle self-consciously, reaching a hand down to try and hide himself.

"No no," Kurt insists, "let me," he says quietly before dropping to his knees. He shuffles forward, between Blaine's legs, shooting one questioning glance up to Blaine who's sprawled on his back. Blaine gulps and offers a shaky nod before Kurt once again tugs his sweats off. Kurt smiles as the fabric falls to the floor, looks up one final time, seeing the rapid swell of Blaine's chest and the endless black of his pupils, and takes that as a yes before pressing his lips up his inner thigh.

He feels Blaine's body jerk beneath the small touch, hands grappling for his shoulders. Kurt glances up and can just see the concave dip of his stomach between his sharp hip bones, the fabric of his boxers stretched over the gap. Kneeling up he hooks his fingers beneath the fabric, sliding around to Blaine's lower back to lift him slightly off the sofa-bed, tugging them down slowly, letting them fall silently to the floor.

He then presses his face against Blaine's hip, small kisses against the bone, tracing right down to the crease of his inner thigh, hearing his breath stutter, his fingers grip Kurt's shoulders, tugging on the fabric. "C-can I?" he manages to say, propping himself up on his elbows, neck aching from craning up, fingers fisting Kurt's shirt, body trembling with need.

"What?" Kurt mumbles into his skin, eyes shooting up when Blaine doesn't reply.

In response Blaine just sits up properly, staring down at Kurt's flushed face between his legs, his cheeks tinged red and his eyelashes long and dark. He can feel the pressure of Kurt's hands burning his thighs before he tugs a little harder on the fabric stretched over Kurt's back, asking silently. Kurt chuckles and folds both arms behind his head, dragging his shirt off in one swift movement and dropping it unceremoniously to the floor, his lips instantly falling back against Blaine skin.

He hears Blaine moan and feels as warm, shaking hands trace down his back, up either side of his ribs as he places a few final, wet, lingering kisses along Blaine's thigh before sinking his lips over his cock. He slowly laps his tongue around the head and closes his eyes, savouring the taste in his mouth, the gasp of pleasure above him and the solid jerk of the body beneath him.

Blaine's spine arches forward, body bowing partially over Kurt's head as his hands cling and grasp, nails branding pale skin, holding him tighter, wanting closer, needing more. And slowly Kurt give him more, sinking inch by inch until he's completely sheathed by the hot, tight press of Kurt's mouth, his hips naturally rocking the tiniest degree into the heat, feeling as tremors build in his bones, desire coiling up his spine, spreading through his blood. And he can't keep his hands off Kurt, counting the knots of his spine, the rungs of his ribs, outlining his wing-like shoulder blades. He feels every slight movement of Kurt's body beneath his hands and then feels it in his cock, the touches shuddering through his entire body.

Blaine hums in the back of his throat, intersected by gasps and moans as Kurt slowly drags up, the tiniest portion before sinking infinitely slowly back down, Blaine's cock hitting the back of his throat as Blaine cries out above him, "fuck- Kurt-" his breathing stutters as Kurt gently slides off his cock, nudging his head against his chest, hands on his hips pushing him back.

"Lie down," he instructs, voice rough and lips filthily wet, the combined sight and sound making Blaine's body weaken noticeably as he falls willingly back, sprawled and waiting. And instantly Kurt's mouth sinks back over him, faster this time, building up a dirty, endless, perfect rhythm, making Blaine moan and cant his hips up as Kurt's hands graze his thighs and hips and balls.

"Holy fu-uck," he throws his head back, hands tangling in Kurt's previously perfect hair, nails digging unintentionally hard into his scalp as Kurt moans and swallows around the cock in his mouth, his own cock pressing painfully hard against the zipper of his jeans. "Shit- I- Kur-" he begins to tug on the fistfuls of hair he's holding, white-hot liquid shooting in flames up his spine as he tries to pull Kurt off because he's so close, so painfully close. But Kurt just grabs his wrists and pins them down either side of his hips, leans up further and bends his neck more, continuing to suck, lapping his tongue along the vein on the underside, hollowing his cheeks and flicking over the slit before dropping swiftly back down, Blaine's hips rocking up to meet him each time, his body thrashing with desperation.

His skin is on fire, his wrists restrained and his mouth open with silent pleas and gasps and moan. Kurt's mouth is blood-hot and almost painfully tight and when Blaine glances down, the sight of Kurt's flushed face between his spread legs is just too much, the slick, pulsing red of his lips makes Blaine's body tremble and lift off the bed, fire engulfing his body as Kurt's eyelashes flutter sinfully, sweetly closed, and that's all it takes before Blaine's coming harder than he ever thought was possible. He feels Kurt hum around his cock, the grip on his wrists tightening as his head rolls back and his body lifts and he strains, arched inches above the bed, coming in Kurt's mouth for an endless number of seconds before he falls a hundred miles a second, crashing back down to earth.

And then all at once he slumps, feeling gentle licks decorate his cock before through a blissful haze of white noise and sensory overload he blinks his eyes open, looking down just in time to see Kurt wipe his thumb over the corner of his mouth, catching Blaine's eyes before sucking it between his still wet lips, the white streak of Blaine's come disappearing into his mouth.

"Fuck," he groans again as his head falls back with a light thump, his fingers flexing experimentally from where they still lay slightly numb beside his hips. He hears Kurt laugh and feels warm, now-familiar hands stroking up his calves, tugging the soft fabric of his boxers up and over him. Lifting his hips he allows Kurt to tuck him back in with a final kiss to his bruised hip.

Kurt stands and stares down at the debauched boy beneath him, eyes closed and arms stretching over his head, fingers flexing. Kurt smiles and skitters his fingers up Blaine's bare thigh, feeling coarse hairs tickle before he turns and goes to grab his discarded shirt, not wanting to over crowd him.

"Hey, where're you going? Get back here," Blaine half pleads, half demands in the sleep-slow voice of a boy still recovering from a particularly amazing orgasm.

Kurt turns and pads back over, sliding his hands questioningly into Blaine's outstretched ones. He feels Blaine try to pull him down and is unable to hide his smile at the weak attempts, hearing Blaine huff before dropping his arms. "Just get on me," Blaine eventually mutters, eyes still closed, body limp and pliant and so, so wanting.

Kurt snorts with laughter but obliges, gently kneeling onto the tangled blankets and lowering himself onto Blaine's lap, the younger boys hands instantly fitting to the sharp curves of his hips, head turning languidly as he blinks open, the dopiest, happiest smile on his face. "Hi," he says, eyes trailing slowly down the exposed stretch of Kurt's bare upper body now high above him. His fingers follow the path of his eyes in light touches, making Kurt's skin goosebump, the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"Hey," Kurt replies, feeling utterly, indescribably silly but utterly, indescribably happy. He leans forward, placing his hands either side of Blaine's head and gently fits their lips together, feeling Blaine's arms twine around him, body curving up to meet Kurt's while simultaneously pulling him down, melting beneath his warmth.

"See," Blaine says between kisses, "I don't look like this," his hands trace patterns along Kurt's shoulder blades. "Your skins perfect," kiss, "and flawless," kiss, "and fuck-" he groans then, head slumping as his hands splay and dance across Kurt's shoulders, from his neck right down the blades at the back, "your shoulders are gorgeous," he concludes in awe, kissing the jut of bones at the top.

But Kurt just sighs, shakes his head, decides not to argue and smiles a little dopily, leaning forward to kiss him again as Blaine hands sink lower, down to the small of his back, pressing him gently down and feeling with a jolt of surprise the Kurt is hard against his hip.

"Mm, sorry," Kurt mumbles, angling his hips a little higher, not wanting to make Blaine uncomfortable, because, as much as he'd like Blaine to touch him he can't pressure him into it. He knows that Blaine's a virgin in basically ever sense of the word, and forcing him to do anything he's not completely okay with is the last thing Kurt wants. So he tells himself to not be too disappointed as he lifts his hips, and to instead focus on the delicious way Blaine's nipping along his shoulder, hands pressing sinful prints into his hips.

"Don't be sorry, it's…" Blaine trails off, face moving to glance down between their bodies, able to just see the bulge beneath Kurt's jeans, "it's nice," he finishes a little lamely, daring to move his hands down, over the swell of Kurt's ass to grasp the backs of his thighs, tugging him gently down so that all his weight presses over Blaine.

"'Nice?'" Kurt scoffs a little, tilting his head in confusion.

"I just mean, it's nice to know that you er- you, y'know," he nods unnecessarily down at Kurt's crotch, "because of me," he concludes with the smallest smile, a hint of pride in his eyes.

"Oh my god you're adorable," Kurt breaths out all at once, laughing and resting his head against Blaine's shoulder, "and yes, because of you. You might not believe me when I say you're gorgeous, but I assure you my dick feels the same," Kurt jokes into his skin, making Blaine laugh and blush and shake his head, turning to smile at the man stretched out above him.

"D'you need to me to… er…" his eyes flicker down the length of Kurt's body again, uncertainty flaring in his pupils, the rigidness of his body telling Kurt everything he needs to know.

"Nuh uh," Kurt assures Blaine, rolling from on top of him, "I'm fine," he says with an easy smile, pulling Blaine to lie properly along the pull out bed beside him.

But Blaine looks unsure as he sidles over, shooting a glance down to the visible outline of Kurt's cock before focusing back on the mans face. It's not that he doesn't want to touch Kurt, because fuck he really does, but his feeling of daring has gone. Just the thought of tugging on Kurt's hair like he had only moments ago is enough to make him blush, let alone the thought of sliding his hand into Kurt's pants. I understand the logistics, he thinks, but it's not really the same as jerking yourself off is it? He wouldn't know what Kurt likes, how tight, how fast, how- anything really. And what if he's really bad at it, what if Kurt goes limp in his hand and then just pushes him away because he's not good enough. Because he'll never be good enough. He pushes these thoughts to the back of his mind and instead glances down one final time, and back up at Kurt's face, "are you-" he begins to ask before Kurt talks over him, eyes closed.

"I'm fine," Kurt repeats, feeling Blaine shuffle a little closer. He opens his eyes and smiles slowly, moving his arm in offering. Blaine smiles a little, hiding it beneath his hand but wriggling into the space nonetheless, pushing down his insecurities and inexperience as his chest presses against Kurt's side, face pillowing against his shoulder, feeling a strong arm settle around his shoulders, thankful for Kurt avoiding where he now knows him to be self conscious of.

His winds one arm up and over Kurt's chest, tracing patterns down his sternum, pressing between the ridges of his ribs and gliding his nails down the dip and sweep of Kurt's stomach from the cage of his ribs. "I'm sorry," he mutters, pressing his nose beneath Kurt's collarbone and inhaling the almost familiar smell.

"What for?" Kurt asks, blinking his eyes open and staring down at the mess of Blaine's curls beneath his face, the flicker of his eyelashes as his eyes follow the path of his fingers.

"Not being ready… even though you've-" he begins in a small voice, feeling like he needs to justify what Kurt must be seeing as him just being a prude.

"Blaine," Kurt interrupts, closing his eyes again and settling closer to Blaine "shut up," he says, tightening his arm around the body pressed to his side. "It's not a competition, it's not tit-for-tat," he assures him, "or tat-for-tat in our case," he jokes, earning a muffled laugh and the press of a smile against his bare skin. "I like- I like doing that to you- with you," Kurt tries to assure him. And it's only after these words that Blaine allows himself to fully relax, telling himself next time he'll definitely do something, because god, does he want to.

A few minutes pass in blissful silence, just their breathing filling the room until Blaine leans up onto his elbow, staring down at Kurt's closed eyes and serene face before speaking, "I feel gross," he says, scrunching his face, making that the first thing Kurt sees when he turns and opens his eyes. And as usual with Blaine, Kurt finds it impossibly cute and can't control as a strange fluttering begins in his stomach.

"Gee, thanks," he manages to joke though, his voice only a little bit higher than usual because of the swooping in his stomach.

"No," Blaine rushes to assure him, "not because of you! Just because, I'm a bit sweaty and y'know," he shrugs. "I'm gonna go shower, will you- you'll be here when I get out?" he asks unsurely.

Kurt hums and nods, tangling his arm previously wrapped around Blaine into the boys hair, dragging him down for a quick kiss, which easily escalates into a multitude of short kisses and long, sweeping strokes of lips. But eventually, whether after minutes or hours neither of them knows, Kurt pushes him back and smiles sleepily. Blaine takes the hint and stands, disappearing into the bathroom.

"Don't take too long," Kurt shouts after him, unable to see Blaine from where he's laying, but he hears the quick stop of his footsteps.

"Why?" Blaine asks, dipping his head over the back of the couch and smiling the wrong way up at Kurt.

"Places to go, people to see," Kurt says with a dramatic sweep of his hand, grinning equally hugely back.

"Mmm, mysterious," Blaine mumbles, leaning forward to drop a final, upside down kiss to Kurt's lips, before turning and reluctantly entering the bathroom, wondering what Kurt's got planned for the day.