The next day Kurt's stood at the stove, giving the pasta a quick stir before continuing with the sauce, shaking his head, unable to wipe the smile off his face as beside him Blaine rambles on. He's heaved himself up onto the countertop beside where Kurt's working, his feet swinging, heels knocking against the cupboards beneath, hands motioning wildly as he talks animatedly about various Broadway shows.

"You're so wrong though," Kurt interrupts, stopping Blaine mid speech. And Blaine just gapes, eyes widening in shock, "Wicked is a much better show than-"

"Oh my god, are you two still arguing about which musical is better?" Cooper sighs, wandering into the kitchen, rolling his eyes when both Kurt and Blaine turn to glare at him. "What? You've been talking about it for like, two hours; can we have a change of subject?"

"Look Coop, just because you don't appreciate the importance of-"

"Yeah yeah, whatever Kurt," Cooper dismisses with a wave of his hand, swatting at Blaine when he scowls. "What did you guys do today anyway?" Coop asks, grabbing a can of soda from the fridge, opening it with a fizz before gulping it down.

While Cooper's back is turned Blaine and Kurt can't help but share small smiles, both feeling heat flush their faces at the memory of Kurt pinning Blaine against the windows which line one wall of the apartment, tugging him up onto the windowsill and slipping between his legs. They both remember the press of hands over their bodies, beneath clothes and over convulsing skin. They both remember the smiles they'd shared, the widening of their pupils and the sudden sparks of adrenaline in their blood as theirs lips crashed together, their bodies moulding and falling into an almost familiar dance.

Blaine had tugged Kurt's thin pyjama top off without asking and kissed his jaw, his neck, shoulders, ducking his head, down his chest, sucking a nipple between his lips and learning a whole new array of sounds which Kurt's body can make. He learnt how to make Kurt's hands tighten in his scalp, his hips buck fast, his head tip back and eyes flutter closed and god, if Kurt falling apart against him, because of him, isn't the best sight and sound and feeling in the world, then he doesn't know what is.

And then, of his own accord, he'd slid his hand inside Kurt's pyjama pants, over his dick, hard and straining in his boxers. He'd watched Kurt's eyes widen and his breath come quicker and the beautiful contrast of his white teeth against bitten-red lips as they closed around the flesh. He'd gulped down his nerves and shifted closer, winding his legs tight around Kurt and dragging his lips down to his own. He'd pushed Kurt's pyjamas and boxers away completely while Kurt did the same to him, the wood of the windowsill cold on his bare skin as Kurt rolled their hips together, the friction between their bare cocks dry but delicious and head spinningly good.

And when they both came it was with each other names on their lips and tastes on their tongues, Blaine's head smacking back against the window as he moaned, bucked, and hoped the neighbours couldn't see anything while Kurt writhed against him, boxers and pyjamas pooled around his ankles, one hand around their dicks, other hand splayed possessive across Blaine's collarbones through his tank, holding him against the glass and claiming him.

They both slumped, eventually, bodies slick with sweat, Blaine against the window, Kurt against him, his breath hot on his shoulder, Blaine's legs still wound around his hips, and if it wasn't for that small hold he had around him Kurt would have probably fell to the floor mid orgasm. For a while they just breathed, against and around each other, Blaine's fingertips running lines along Kurt's spine while he felt his heart rate lower, the sweat and come on his body drying while Kurt's hands remained on him, one on his heaving chest, above his heart, the other hand fallen to his bare thigh.

After a few minutes Blaine had tilted his head back, staring at Kurt's pink cheek pressed against his shoulder, scrunched up, eyes closed and lips open and just breathing and holding and relaxing. Blaine thought he looked beautiful and wanted to say so, but the words felt heavy in his throat so he swallowed them down. Instead he carded a hand through Kurt's hair, watched his eyes part sleepily, blinking dazedly up before Kurt had swiped their lips together. One final dozen times before extracting himself from Blaine's limbs and kisses. Shuffling back he pulled up his underwear and cotton pyjama bottoms and steadied Blaine when he stood, legs a little numb from cramp, from how tight a hold he'd had around Kurt. Blaine pulled his own boxers back up and met Kurt's smile, and smiled a little himself and tiptoed, asking for a kiss.

Which Kurt had happily given.

In the few seconds it takes for Cooper to turn back around they manage to dip their heads and hide their smiles, and Kurt has enough sense to respond, telling Cooper they'd been to the Rockefeller Center, which they had, after their morning together.

"What?" Cooper whines, "you went Rockefeller Center without me?" his brow furrows comically and Kurt can't help but be surprised by his pouting, shooting a look to Blaine who looks just as confused.

"Yeah, but we- we can go again, all of us, if you want Coop. We only really went on the observation deck," Kurt tries to assure him, slightly bewildered by just how genuinely upset Cooper seems.

"I missed out on the observation deck?" Cooper groans, pouting again and looking far more upset than a grown man should do, given the circumstances.

"But I-" Kurt stops , frowning deepening, "Cooper, you don't like heights," he tries to remind him.

But Cooper just shrugs and takes another sip of his drink, "I like views though," he eventually says, shooting Kurt a hopeful little smile.

"Oh my god," Kurt eventually sighs, "you're impossible," he rolls his eyes when Cooper widens his eyes, pleading. "Okay fine," Kurt gives in, "we can go on the friggin' observation deck again, my god," he groans, but can't help smiling when Cooper does a little victory dance.

"You're the best," Cooper says as he walks by, grabbing Kurt's face and pulling him sideways so he can plant a wet kiss on his cheek, laughing when Kurt squirms away and scowls at him, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand, looking thoroughly disgusted. Kurt catches Blaine's eye and sees something flash briefly over his face, but before he can even so much as think about it it's gone, replaced with his usual care free smile.

"You're repulsive," Kurt mutters, turning his attention back to dinner as Cooper saunters over to heave himself up onto the counter beside Blaine, bumping him with his shoulder until he turns his head and smiles.

/

They eat dinner in front of the TV, Kurt and Blaine on the couch, Blaine's legs crossed beneath him, knee just touching Kurt's thigh. And maybe Blaine's sat a little closer than wholly necessary, using it as an excuse to touch Kurt, but it's not enough to raise suspicion from Cooper who's sat on the floor, back against the couch, coffee table pulled close enough to rest his plate on while he eats.

Blaine finishes his food and leans down, sliding his plate onto the small table before sitting back. He sees Kurt watching him out of the corner of his eye and sends him a small smile before looking away; trying to concentrate on the film they're watching.

But it's hard, with Kurt so close and yet so very off limits. There is literally less than a foot between their bodies, and that small square inch where they're touching is enough to make Blaine have to slip his hands into the bend behind his knees because it would be so simple, so quick and easy, to just reach out and take Kurt's hand. Just to hold it in his own and feel the warmth which he's growing more and more familiar with, to see the little eye roll Kurt would no doubt do, followed by Blaine's favourite little half smile.

But he can't. Because Kurt's out of bounds. So instead he sighs, under his breath, not loud enough to raise attention to himself, before tugging on one of the blankets folded across the back of the sofa, all piled there ready to make Blaine's bed up when the time comes. He pulls it over himself before snuggling down onto the couch, his head on the arm rest, legs pressed up close to his chest because he really doesn't want Kurt to move further away. He spreads the blanket over himself, snuggles down into it, pulls it to his chin and breaths out, long and deep and satisfying, feeling his aching muscles relax as he settles into the warmth of the blanket, which is nice, but not nearly as nice as the heat of Kurt's body.

He feels Kurt shift where he's sat near his feet, and then there's a warm palm squeezing his socked foot. He cocks his head up for a second, sees Kurt grin a little, before he slips his hand away, attention on the TV again.

/

Blaine wakes to an alarm, blaringly loud and unfamiliar and all around him. He swings an arm out, aiming uselessly for whatever might be making the noise before opening his eyes, seeing a phone on the coffee table which is definitely not his. He quickly shuts it up and throws it back down after checking the time, seeing he's awake far earlier than the past three mornings.

And without the ringing of the alarm the apartment is surreally quiet around him. It takes him a moment to come round, but when he does he rolls over and immediately notices the rough scratch of denim on his legs. It's only then that he remembers falling asleep fully clothed the previous night, mid film, Kurt's body teasingly warm and just out of reach.

He throws his blanket away, tangled around his limbs before stumbling to stand up and stretching, feeling his spine crack and his shoulders ache from being cramped up all night. A yawn rips through his body and leaves him with that fuzzy feeling in his muscles, not quite awake yet as he rubs at his gritty eyes, runs a hand through his knotted hair.

He checks the time again on what he now realises is Kurt's phone, and wonders why on earth the alarm is set for so early when Kurt has no reason to get up. Falling back onto the couch he stretches his limbs, rotates his ankles. He really wants to shower, get out of yesterdays clothes and wash his crumpled hair and scrub his skin, but he can't, because all his clothes are foolishly kept in Cooper's room and he really, really doesn't want to wake Cooper up early.

So instead he grabs his pyjamas from where they're folded over the sofa back, changing into them as quickly as possible, feeling frighteningly exposed in the middle of the living room, the long stretch of windows only adding to his ill ease, even though he knows no one can see him through them.

Luckily not long later Cooper wakes and wanders into the bathroom, giving Blaine the chance to go in his room and pick his clothes out for the day. This is almost always the part of the day which Blaine worries most over, because he wants to look nice, obviously, but he also wants to look hot, for Kurt, but he has no idea what looks hot, other than everything Kurt wears.

So he worries and stresses and pulls his hair out over it, before giving up and settling on something he knows at least matches. Cooper then dashes in with just a towel around his hips and begins pulling on his own clothes.

"What the fuck?" Blaine asks, completely dumbfounded, because could he not have waited until Blaine had left the room?

"What?" Cooper asks, looking up from where a t shirt is half pulled over his head, face framed by the neck hole. And Blaine just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, which makes Cooper bark with laughter, "Blaine, we're brothers, it's nothing you've never seen before," he scoffs, straightening the fabric over his chest.

Blaine can't help the little squeak of indignation which escapes his mouth, before he stutters over a reply, "the last time I saw your- your y'know," he nods pointedly at the towel wrapped not all that tightly around his brother's hips, "I was like, six, and I'm pretty sure it scarred me for life then so, can you just, not," he asks, grabbing his own clothes before scurrying out the room and into the bathroom. But despite how fast he moves, there's no way he could have missed Cooper's howl of laughter.

When he finally emerges, scrubbed clean and hair damp he's surprised to find the apartment eerily quiet again. He checks Coop's room, and the little hallway outside the apartment, and then Coop's room again, just for good measure. But his brother's definitely gone, his shoes absent from the shoe rack, thin summer jacket gone from the back of the chair he always throws it over.

And Blaine can't help the gleeful little smile which spreads over his face at the realisation that he is very much alone, with a sleepy, groggy, bed-warm Kurt at his disposal. He moves as quietly as possible to Kurt's room and pushes the door open gently, sliding in and holding his breath.

And there Kurt is, still asleep, sprawled out, sheets tangled around him, shirtless and sleep mussed and unfairly sexy, all things considered. He's on his back, one arm behind his head, the other splayed on the empty side of his bed, the lines of his ribs visible beneath soft skin, the rhythm of his breathing gently disturbing the calm silence.

Blaine creeps closer, crawls onto the bed and over to Kurt. He wants to lie down beside him, but thinks that might be kind of creepy, so instead he reaches out and tentatively grazes his index finger along Kurt's brow, watching the flicker of Kurt's face as he responds to the touch. Blaine traces down his nose, back up and along his hairline, down his temple, cheek, jaw, all the way to his chin, his heart pounding when Kurt's lips part beneath his touch. Just slightly, enough to enrapture Blaine's attention though, meaning he misses the slow blink of Kurt's eyes as he wakes, blissfully blue and unfocused.

A smile curls Kurt's lips, and that's what alerts Blaine to him having woken up. And as his eyes dart up, locking with Kurt's, he feels a hand rise and press against the small of his back, dipping gently beneath the fabric of his shirt to push him down slightly. And Blaine obliges, allowing himself to lean down, to press his lips against Kurt's, feeling the near silent hum of pleasure which escapes Kurt's lips, his fingers slipping just beneath the tight waistband of Blaine's jeans to trace the warm skin there.

Kurt's other hand moves from behind his own head and slides up Blaine's thigh, curling around his hip and pulling encouragingly until Blaine gets the message and swings his leg over Kurt's thighs, straddling him and leaning down to slip their lips together again.

It's strange, Blaine thinks, to not even have to speak to a person before kissing them, before straddling them and allowing your hands to roam over their naked skin, allowing your body to succumb to their touch.

Blaine brackets his forearms either side of Kurt's head, sliding his tongue along the seam of his lips while both of Kurt's hands wind around his body, fitting perfectly to the shape of his ass. Kurt's lips part gently beneath his, allowing his tongue to press in, licking against Kurt's. Blaine's mouth curls unintentionally into a smile as he hears Kurt hum beneath him.

Blaine's pulls away then, looking down at the man beneath him, lips wet and eyes still groggy as one hand reaches up, sliding through Blaine's still-damp curls, slipping behind his ear and pulling him down so their lips are millimetres apart, wet and warm and so close as Kurt whispers, "hi," into Blaine's mouth, the hand in his hair tangling at the nape of his neck, craning up to graze their lips together again.

Moaning at the touch Blaine lowers his hips slightly, searching for friction as his not surprisingly hard cock strains against his zipper. He feels Kurt's legs shift beneath him, kicking the sheet off his lower body until they're ruffled at his feet. He then spreads his legs, hands on Blaine's hips shifting him until he's lying between Kurt's thighs, lowering his weight onto him, unable to stop the moan which ripples through his body at the sensation of their clothed dicks rubbing together.

Kurt hands then scrape up his back, over his shirt, nails digging in gently and Blaine shudders at the sensation, a brief second of self-consciousness about his scars evaporating as Kurt's fingers close tight over his shoulders, pulling him closer. Kurt drags Blaine's bottom lip between his teeth, sharp and soft into the cavern of his mouth, and Blaine can't help the quick thrust of his hips as desire unspools down his spine, settling low in his stomach.

Kurt finally pulls back then, blinking his eyes open blearily, a slow smile curling his lips. His hands relax on Blaine's shoulder and smooth up towards his neck, cupping the bare skin, thumbs rubbing over his jaw bone. "Best alarm clock ever," Kurt mutters drowsily, feeling his heart leap when Blaine's face breaks into a wide, honest, heart-breaking smile right above him.

Kurt rolls them then, gently forcing Blaine onto his side next to him and pressing as close as physically possible, forcing a knee between Blaine's and winding a hand around his back, pressing kisses to the humming skin of his throat. "Speaking of alarms," Kurt mumbles, "you seen my phone anywhere?"

"Yeah, living room," Blaine sighs, beginning to rock his hips forward against Kurt's, ducking his head, sliding their lips together again.

Kurt smiles and obliges and kisses back, parting his lips and moaning when Blaine's tongue presses in, tasting freshly of mint as Kurt strokes his fingers absently over Blaine's neck. He traces behind his ear, feeling the boy shiver and smile against him, lips becoming increasingly desperate. Kurt opens his mouth a little more and allows Blaine to push him on to his back again, leaning up and over him, Blaine's hands splaying and spreading over his naked skin as his hips rolls desperately forward, Kurt's fingers drawing patterns against his throat.

They roam down Blaine's neck and over the front of his shoulders, dipped down over his collarbones, sharp and jutting with the angle, and Kurt can feel the movement of Blaine's chest against his finger tips as he slots two fingers beneath the hem of his collar, two buttons already open. He fingers the third button open and gasps on a particularly hard thrust, head falling back a little, feeling heat build in his stomach, intensified when he sees Blaine's proud smirk, before their mouths slam together again.

Kurt's more desperate now, flicking open the next button as Blaine nips on his bottom lip, his jaw, down his neck, Kurt's head falling back with a loud moan because shit, when did Blaine figure this out? And Blaine pulls back and grins again, like he knows exactly what effect he's having.

But Kurt's not playing that game. He flips them, quickly, Blaine landing with a huff, sprawled on his back, Kurt hovering over him, weight on his chest and stomach and crotch, and yeah, Kurt definitely prefers this position. Much prefers the startled look in Blaine's eyes and the tremor in his hands, the unrestrained moan when Kurt rocks his hip down tantalisingly slowly.

He leans forward to kiss him but keeps his eyes open, watches Blaine's eyelashes flutter as his own close, his lips puckering to meet Kurt's, and then Kurt moves, his lips pressing against Blaine's jaw and trailing down his neck, hearing Blaine mutter 'tease' above him before Kurt nibbles along his newly exposed collarbones, down the inches of his sternum. He pops open another button and pushes the left side of Blaine's shirt away, kissing over to his nipple, feeling Blaine's body suddenly go rigid beneath him.

Kurt flicks his eyes up, questioning, and it's only when he sees the sudden fear in Blaine's eyes that he remembers and realises this is toeing a line they're yet to cross, a line which Blaine very obviously does not want to cross.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says with kisses into the warm skin stretched beneath him, moving his mouth back over to the centre of Blaine's chest, pulling the shirt back over Blaine's skin.

"I-" Blaine tries to speak above him, tangles his fingers loose in Kurt's messy hair and looks down, searching for the words, because he really wants to. But he just can't. "I'm sorry," he eventually concedes, feeling more childish than ever.

But Kurt just shakes his head, rests his chin on Blaine's sternum and stares up, smiling slowly, "you don't need to apologise, my brain just doesn't work quite right when I've just woken up, and especially not when there's a gorgeous guy spread out beneath me," he tries to lighten the mood, pressing more kisses up Blaine's body until he reaches his lips.

Blaine bites his kissed-red lips and tries to smile before speaking, "can we er- can we carry on but just, just not do that?" he asks, voice so hopeful and pleading that Kurt can't hold back his rising smile.

"Gladly," Kurt says after a second, before sinking back down over Blaine's body, hot and sweltering and perfect.

/

It turns out Kurt has a plan for the day, and this plan is apparently a lot more exciting that his food shopping one.

He resolutely does not tell Blaine where he's taking him though, before bustling him onto the subway, keeping him close in the streams of people. But a secret can only be kept for so long, and as soon as the train begins to slow at their stop, the loudspeaker overhead announces their destination, and Blaine's head snaps round to stare at Kurt so quick that Kurt wouldn't be surprised if he'd caused serious damage.

But he's obviously unharmed, if the gleam in his eyes is any indication, as well as the slow upward curve of his lips and the bounce in his step as he hops off the train.

And as much as Kurt knows he should find his easy amusement and enthusiasm annoying, really he just finds it endearing. But he rolls his eyes for good measure, earning the usual hip bump from Blaine as they leave the station, out into the bustling streets of Times Square.

Blaine's head cranes back and his smile widens as he walks forward. Kurt lets him have his awestruck moment, that first view of the New York he's no doubt dreamt about, just as Kurt had. And Kurt can't help but watch, a small smile on his own lips. But Blaine's still walking, inching forward step by step, head averted to the sky, not watching his step, and it only takes Kurt a second to realise and swing his arm out, grabbing Blaine's wrist and yanking him back from the road he very nearly walks straight on to. Blaine jolts back, surprised, eyes scared for a moment before he finds Kurt, feeling his cheeks redden with embarrassment, watching Kurt shake his head before sighing.

Blaine can't help but laugh then, stepping away from the road and closer to Kurt, smiling up at him, Kurt's fingers still wrapped warm around his wrist. "My hero," Blaine coos, mirth sparkling in his eyes as he smirks, leaning up on tiptoes to plant a kiss on Kurt's cheek.

"Idiot," Kurt mumbles, pushing him away and releasing his wrist, turning to walk away before a grin erupts traitorously over his face.

Blaine catches up though, his laughter high and carefree as he beams at Kurt.

Kurt had thought they could actually go 'properly shopping', as Blaine keeps referring to it, while they're here, but it turns out Blaine's desire to sit on the red steps is much higher than his need for new bowties.

So instead Kurt leads them to the famous red staircase, trying his best to keep up with Blaine's monologue beside him a he rambles on at high speed, words tangling and tripping over each other in their excitement to be spoken.

Finally they reach the steps and climb to the top at Blaine's insistence, before both sighing as they sit down. Blaine crosses his legs beneath himself, making him look even younger, and stares unashamedly amazed at the lights and posters and people around them, unable to hide his smile when he catches Kurt's eye.

And Kurt, for his part, can't help but watch the unbridled happiness sweep over the younger boys face. So he takes the opportunity, when Blaine's facing forward, to gently remove his phone from his pocket and snap a quick picture of the boy sat looking both content and thrilled. The artificial shutter sound makes Blaine's head snap round, just in time to see Kurt scrunch his face into a smile at the picture he's just taken.

"What'd you do that for?" Blaine whines, moving to swipe the phone out of his hand.

But Kurt just turns his back on him, thumbs flying over his screen as he attaches it to a message, Blaine's arms tucking tight around his body as he grapples for the small device.

"Oh my god, who're you sending it too?" Blaine almost screams in his ear as he practically climbs onto his back, making laughter erupts from Kurt's chest as he clicks send. And then suddenly Blaine's fingers are digging into his stomach and ribs and ripping screams and laughter from Kurt's body, his finger incessantly tickling and reaching for the phone.

Kurt doubles over, feeling tears swell in his eyes, his stomach cramping, Blaine's breath hot on his neck where he's now kneeling behind Kurt, tickling him harder as one hands weaves over Kurt's own, Blaine's fingers closing determined around his phone.

"Okay, okay, you win, just- oh god just stop," Kurt all but chokes through laughter, lungs void of air as Blaine's arms disappear from around him. Kurt slumps into himself, rubbing his hands up his sides to ease the pain, turning to watch Blaine flick through his phone.

"Oh god," Blaine eventually groans, "you sent it to my dad?" he whines, holding the phone up, the picture of his own grinning face on screen, as he pouts next to it. And the gleeful look of his face on screen compared to his sad little frown in real life is enough to make Kurt double over again, laughing loud and unrestrained, wiping under his eyes at the fresh tears which build.

"Your dad'll love it," Kurt says, taking his phone back with a smile.

"He'll be at work and he'll probably show everyone in the office," Blaine grimaces "and oh god," he whinges when he turns to face Kurt again, "he'll probably print it out and stick it on the fridge and it's all yo-"

Blaine's speech is cut off mid word as Kurt's lips seal over his own, stealing the air from his lungs and taking with it every thought of that picture, until all that remains in Blaine's head is a diatribe of kurtkurtkurtkurtkurt, that one syllable repeating and leaking through his blood as he kisses back, hands tangling automatically in Kurt's hair.

It's chaste really, compared to the dozens of other kisses they've now shared, but it's something a whole lot more. Because this kiss, in the middle of one of the busiest places in the world, in front of hundreds of people, is literally just a kiss.

It isn't leading to more, to bare skin or blowjobs or even blushing, to touching and tasting and taking. It isn't part of that slow build to coming, the sharp shoot of desire down your spine and the tight grip of an orgasm before the springs snap and pleasure explodes within your body.

It's leading to nothing.

Nothing but lips on lips; kissing because you can, and you want to and why not?

So when Kurt pulls back a few inches, one hand on Blaine's thigh, the other cupping his jaw, his eyes are wide and a little shocked. Blaine licks his lips, searching for the taste of Kurt and drops his hands from Kurt's face to rest on his own lap. He watches Kurt swallow, leaning back a little more as his hand falls from Blaine's cheek to rest on Blaine's other thigh, inches from Blaine's own hands, Kurt's palms hot like brands through the denim. He watches Kurt's face duck, the flutter of his eyelashes, and then the beginning of a smile as it overtakes his lips when he looks up again.

"What was that for?" Blaine asks, voice dry from breathing through his mouth.

"Sorry I-" Kurt begins, "you were rambling and- and you looked all cute and flustered and I- yeah, sorry," Kurt eventually finishes, laughing under his breath and averting his eyes from Blaine's blistering stare. "It won't happen again," Kurt tries to promise.

Kurt misses the quick furrow of Blaine's brow, but he does hear the long breath he realises before he speaks, voice so low Kurt has to strain to hear.

"It won't?"

Kurt looks up slowly, "you want it to?" he asks, equally quiet.

"Well, isn't that sort of what we've been doing these past few days?" Blaine asks, trying to smile confidently while his insides churn.

"Well, I guess but, I didn't know whether you'd want me to- when we're- because we're not- and…" Kurt stumbles around what he's trying to say.

"I- I want you to," Blaine blurts, "I mean- if you want to, you can, I- I like it and, I don't care that we're here or, or that we're not…" he trails off with a shrug, a sudden lump forming in his throat, the words suffocating him to say.

"So you don't mind?" Kurt asks, feeling a grin creep across his face.

And Blaine shakes his head fervently, bottom lip caught between his teeth, the index finger of his right hand reaching out to gently touch Kurt's hand where it still lays heavy on his thigh. Kurt glances down at the touch, and Blaine watches the way his smile widens noticeably.

"Okay," Kurt eventually concedes, lacing their fingers together atop Blaine's leg and leaning forward, placing a string of dry kisses down Blaine's cheek before sealing his lips over the younger boys, swiping his tongue teasingly along the seam before inching back, grinning when Blaine blinks his eyes slowly open.

"Okay," Blaine parrots, unable to stop the smile which lights up his face, feeling his cheeks flame under Kurt's gaze.