Kurt wakes to Cooper looming over him, shaking his shoulder and whisper-shouting into his quickly brightening bedroom. Kurt mumbles something, bats at him, rolls away and clings to his pillow, buries his face in it and pretends it's all a bad dream.

"Kurt, wake up, fucks sake, Kurt!" Cooper shakes him hard then, hand firm on his shoulder as the mattress creaks beneath their joint weight.

"What?" Kurt gives in, rolls over, irritated, pushes Cooper back from where he's kneeling half over his body, kicks at him for good measure, before slumping back, closing his eyes and groaning.

"Finally, Jesus, you're like a corpse when you sleep," Cooper crawls unnecessarily over his legs and stands up, straightening his shirt over his chest. "How does this look?" he asks, fiddling with the cuffs before spinning on the spot, raising his arms for Kurt to see.

"What're you doing?" Kurt mumbles into his hand through a yawn, watching confused as Cooper parades in front of him.

"I need advise, what do you think about this shirt?" Cooper twirls again, stumbling over his own feet slightly.

"What's the event?" Kurt asks, leaning up on his elbows to get a better view.

There's a pause, just a second where Cooper looks faintly terrified, before he speaks, "Lex's parents want to meet me."

"Oh- right, wow," Kurt breaths and sits up a bit straighter at the importance of the matter. It's not very often Cooper gets to the Meet the Parents stage of a relationship.

"Yeah, I know right?" Cooper laughs nervously before turning again, showing the back to Kurt while twisting his spine awkwardly to maintain eye contact. "So, what d'you think?"

Kurt analyses it for a moment, "where are you meeting them?"

"We're going for dinner, some fancy French place her dad loves," Cooper shrugs, lost.

"'Fancy'?" Kurt repeats, earning a quick nod, "no…" is all he says then, shaking his head and sitting up properly against the headboard, trying not to laugh at the way Cooper's entire face falls.

"But I thought the colour-"

"You thought wrong," Kurt frowns, "have you got anything less… inner-city-office-worker?"

Cooper gawps at him, jaw slack with shock before he stutters over an answer. "I- I dunno… I don't even know what that looks like. I've got that blue- no?," he arcs an eyebrow when Kurt shakes his head. "Oh, how about the really light pi- still no? Okay I give up, I don't know…" he slumps onto Kurt's bed, covers his face in his hands and groans.

Kurt can't help but laugh at him, leaning forward to tug a hand from his face. "It's fine, we'll go shopping, we'll find you something," he promises.

"I'm meeting Lex for breakfast in… shit, ten minutes," he stumbles upright, stares at Kurt, panicked, caught between running to change and waiting for him to speak.

"Just text me when you've finished and I'll come and meet you," Kurt offers, smiling at the relief which washes over Cooper's face.

"Thank you, I love you," he says, grabs Kurt by his bed-messed hair and plants a kiss on his head before literally running from the room, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt as he goes.

Kurt slumps sideways on his bed, lying awkwardly, body at a right angle as he allows his eyes to drift closed, listening faintly to Cooper rushing around before he hears a hurried, "see you later," followed by the slam of the door.

Kurt winces as the sound resonates through the apartment.

He glances over at the time on his bedside table and notices it's still early enough for him to not feel guilty about rolling over for another hour, but he knows he won't sleep. Once he's woken up properly, that's it.

So instead he sits up, swings his legs off the bed and stands. He stretches out, arches his arms over his head and feels the bones crack and grind together, rolls his neck and winces at the cricks in it.

It's only after leaving his room, making towards the bathroom, that he really remembers Blaine, curled up beneath warm blankets and swaddled in sleep, so very touchabley close, his breathing regular and deep, tugging Kurt closer. Kurt hesitates, just for a moment, and tries to find among the tangled covers and mountains of cushions and pillows the faintest outline of a body. It takes him longer than he'd believe, but eventually his eyes settle on the curled crook of three fingers peeking, hidden, from beneath the top blanket.

And he just can't resist. Not after so many days apart, unable to really talk how he would like to, let alone touch and kiss and press against Blaine, feel the drum of his pulse beneath his fingertips and hear the sweet, sinful sigh of his name on Blaine's lips.

So he crosses the space in three quick strides, brazenly tugs his thin t-shirt over his head, doesn't think about the implications but just the hot, burning press of Blaine's body against his own, letting it fall silently to the floor before he tugs on his loose pyjama pants, stepping out of them as he reaches the edge of the sofa-bed, leaving in his wake a trail of forgotten clothes. He stands, now naked but for tight, charcoal grey boxers, and stares down for a moment. He watches the rise and fall of the blankets beneath which Blaine's lies, just fingers poking out from where he's buried, no doubt burningly hot. And Kurt can't hold in his smile.

After a moment of just watching he gently peels back the covers and kneels onto the bed, tentatively, slow enough for Blaine to protest if he wants to. But when there is no reaction but for a gentle, barely-there shiver, Kurt begins to lie down, forcing his bare legs into the warmth created by Blaine's body. Blaine turns then, slowly, almost confused, pushing the covers from his face to peer over his shoulder, revealing a small, crinkled half-smile before he blinks his eyes back closed, laying his head down again.

Kurt sinks into the mattress, curled on his side, stretches a searching arm out. He tugs Blaine back, swelteringly hot and heavenly soft among the blankets, towards his chest.

Blaine shifts willingly, shuffling until they're pressed tight together, back to chest right down the long length of their bodies, Blaine's knees crooked to fit Kurt's, his ass pressed, unthinkingly, back into the angle of Kurt's crotch as he sinks, arcs his spine on a stretch, and falls into the cage of Kurt's body.

"Hey," Blaine says, voice gruff with sleep, lacing his hand with Kurt's when he winds his arm tight around Blaine's waist, stringing kisses together over the slope of his neck.

"Hey," Kurt replies, exhales into Blaine's hair and breaths him in as he feels the butterfly flutter of dry lips over the back of his knuckles before Blaine tightens their laced hands and tugs, until Kurt is holding him impossibly tight, hand over the slow thump of his heart.

Eventually though, this isn't enough.

Blaine rolls until they're face to face, smiles into the space between them as Kurt spreads his palm down his side, fingers curling almost possessively over Blaine's hip, thumb rubbing over the bone.

"Hey," Blaine repeats, eyes bleary and blinking, face pink and eyes wild, hair knotty and tangled, so breathtakingly gorgeous.

Kurt smiles at him a bit dopily, before slipping forward an inch to steal a dry kiss from his lips. As he pulls back he watches the shadows of Blaine's eyelashes against his cheeks, the way they flutter and change shape as he smiles.

Blaine inches forward more, hand reaching out to rest on Kurt's waist, withdrawing slightly at the feel of soft, bare skin beneath his palm. "Are you-" Blaine pauses, looking down between their bodies, everything shrouded in darkness, "are you naked?" he asks, glancing up, eyes comically wide.

Kurt shakes his head, slinks closer, "not quite," he smiles, takes Blaine's hand and slides it over his body, from the ladder of his ribs to the angle of his hip bone, jutting from his boxers. "Is that okay?" he asks, pressing so close to Blaine that their noses touch, freeing his hand to wind it gently up the side of his body, around his shoulder, over the knot of bone at the top of his spine before dragging it up, through his hair, not once taking his eyes off the other boys.

"Yeah I- yeah," Blaine grins, "that's gr-fine," he says, closing the final few inches between them, pressing his icy feet between Kurt's ankles, knee's knocking as their hips almost slot together, their chests touching with each breath.

Silence stretches comfortable and secure around them, both caught in the cocoon of Blaine's bed and their touching bodies, the rhythm and warmth of their breathing the only disturbances as Kurt watches Blaine's eyes flutter once, twice, three times, before settling serenely closed.

"Are you okay?" Kurt eventually whispers after an indeterminable number of minutes.

"Huh?" Blaine mumbles against Kurt's neck from where he's slipped even closer.

"Are you alright? You seem a bit… drowsy," Kurt says, searching for the right word.

"Mmm," Blaine hums, "just tired," he says, stifling a yawn into Kurt's skin.

"You haven't been out of bed yet," Kurt laughs, moving the arm he's lying on to curl beneath Blaine's head, cradling him to his chest while his other hand slips from his neck to wind gently over his waist.

Blaine jolts instantly away from his touch, jumping forward against Kurt's body and tensing beneath his hands.

"I- sorry," Kurt quickly apologises, having completely forgotten, as usual, Blaine's self-consciousness. He runs his hand back around to the front of Blaine's body, trailing down to rest lightly on his hip.

"No, I- I'm sorry," Blaine rushes to say, "it's just… your hand- and I just- god, you must think I'm such a child," he rambles, moving to roll away, out of Kurt's grasp.

"Hey, no!" Kurt rolls with him, keeps one hand on his hip, the other at the back of his head, determined to keep him close. "I don't think that at all," Kurt assures him, "I promise," he says, laughing lightly when Blaine sends him a disbelieving look. "Seriously, I don't think you're a child, I would not be lying here with you if I thought you were," he tries to joke, earning a weak smile.

He watches Blaine stare at the ceiling for a moment, blinking, breathing, no doubt embarrassed. "I think you're beautiful," he finally admits when Blaine continues to look upset.

Blaine turns to him slowly, still close, but not close enough. "I'm not," he eventually says, turning to stare back up at the ceiling, and Kurt feels his heart almost break. Because it's obvious he's not digging for compliments or trying to sound modest, he genuinely believes that he's not anything worth looking at.

"Blaine," Kurt breaths, shuffles closer and leans up on his elbow, looking down at Blaine beneath him, all messy hair and sad eyes. "I'm not lying when I say I think you're beautiful," he tries to explain, leans down to kiss over the parts of Blaine's shoulder not covered by his top, hoping to say more in kisses than he ever could in words.

Kurt presses a little closer and settles into the space between Blaine's outstretched arm and his body, rests his cheek on his chest and absently trails patterns over his sternum, settling a leg over Blaine's and waits for him to respond, if he's going to.

Eventually he rolls back onto his side, facing Kurt. He smiles a little, both scared and apologetic at once before glancing down into the darkness between their bodies. He shuffles closer then, until he rests warm and solid and so very soft against Kurt's bare skin again.

Kurt waits, and watches Blaine reach a hand out, watches him press his index finger to the bones at the top of Kurt's shoulder before tracing downwards, over muscles and the winding rivers of slightly protruding veins to rest, hand splayed, against Kurt's, who turns his palm over and allows Blaine to slot their fingers together.

"You can, if you want," Blaine breaths after a moment into the hollow of Kurt's throat. "I mean…" he trails off with a sigh, words heavy on his tongue before he takes their joint hands and slides them slowly up his body, over the fabric of his thin undershirt to rest, splayed, on the left side of his waist.

"Blaine," Kurt begins, nervous, knows how self conscious Blaine is of this.

"It's fine," Blaine assures him with a kiss, squeezes where his hand is still clasping Kurt's before winding it further around his back, letting Kurt drape his arm fully around him before he lets go and tucks his arms into the space between their chests, strokes a shaking finger over Kurt's collarbones.

Kurt splays his hand gently over Blaine's back, protective almost, and unintentionally feels beneath the thin fabric the gnarled twist of a scar, gashed into Blaine's slim, tiny frame. And just the thought of someone being able to do that to Blaine, Blaine with his big, earnest eyes, easy smiles, the way he hums under his breath and blushes so easily, the way he feels in Kurt's arms, soft and strong all at once, and the gentle thump of his heart, beating so resiliently, so full of love. How anyone could do that to anyone, shocks Kurt, but how they could do it to Blaine, makes him feel physically sick.

He doesn't say anything though, just nuzzles closer, moves his hand up to spread between Blaine shoulder blades, pulls him even closer to his chest until Kurt feels the tickle of Blaine's breath against his bare skin, the tenseness in his muscles easing second by second as he just breaths and relaxes into Kurt.

Kurt wants to tell Blaine he's beautiful again. Wants to roll him onto his back, strip his clothes from his body. Kiss over every inch of his skin, from his icy feet pressed against Kurt's, right up to his face, pressed into Kurt's chest. He wants to roll him over and swathe kisses down the road of his spine, veer off at the crossroad of his scar and follow it, around to his ribs. He wants to count them, one by one, with his lips and tongue, to lick up to his nipples and then his throat, jaw, lips, and to just keep kissing until Blaine believes every word Kurt says.

But he can't, not until Blaine is wholly and completely comfortable with being entirely naked with Kurt, and that's not something Kurt would ever force. So instead, after lying tangled in silence and soft touches for who knows how long, Kurt asks why Blaine's tired, veering the conversation back to where they'd left off.

Blaine shrugs against him and places kisses against the hollow of Kurt's throat, mumbling, "nightmares," in between them as his hand skims and strokes silk-soft down the inward curve of Kurt's spine, over and over.

"Nightmares?" Kurt repeats, frowning.

Blaine just shrugs again, skims his hand to the base of Kurt's back, slips the tips of his fingers into his boxers, lips working harder up Kurt's neck.

"Blaine, st-" Kurt can't help the laugh which escapes his throat as Blaine's lips tickle against his skin, continuing to cover him in kisses, fingers creeping further into his boxers. "No- Blaine, come on, talk to me, stop distracting me," he says through another laugh.

"I like distracting," Blaine mutters, not meeting Kurt's eye.

"We've got plenty of time for distractions," Kurt smiles. "What're you having nightmares about?" he asks, dipping his head so that they're face to face, watching Blaine blink away, looking down and then back up before he speaks.

"I dunno, just- just stuff," he shrugs again.

"Blaine I-" Kurt begins before he sighs, mind jolting back to his and Cooper's conversation only days ago. About whether Blaine is happy.

This is evidence that no, he's not entirely happy. And Kurt's stomach sinks with the realisation.

So Kurt waits, and thinks.

He wants to say, I know how you feel, because he's sure he could relate to some degree. But he also knows that that's the last thing he wanted to hear when he was Blaine's age. So instead he pauses, waits for Blaine to look at him, leans forward and kisses him gently. "I'm not going to force you to tell me," he says, "but I'm more than willing to listen if you do want to," he says, and it's an invitation as much as a shoulder to lean on.

Because, Kurt realises suddenly, he wants Blaine to come and talk to him if he needs to. He wants Blaine to feel comfortable enough to bring his problems to Kurt, to talk through his issues, his fears, his nightmares. He wants, he realises, possibly stupidly, to be everything Cooper is obviously unable to be, to be the person Blaine trusts most in the world. And if that isn't a kick in the gut he doesn't know what it.

But he's distracted from this thought by Blaine staring up at him for a moment, eyes wide and sad, golden-green and unfathomable. "Okay," he eventually says, "thank you," he finishes with a smile and a tender, barely there kiss against Kurt's neck, pale against his pink lips.

"So, d'you- d'you want to talk about… whatever it is?" Kurt asks, wanting to hear and help but not wanting to push, tracing nonsensical patterns into the exposed skin at the base of Blaine's spine.

Blaine shakes his head and drops his eyes again, slinking as close as possible to avoid Kurt's stare, pressing his face into his neck and just breathing to calm himself down.

"Okay, that's fine," Kurt assures him, ignores the way his stomach drops with disappointment while stroking Blaine's hair back from his face.

Eventually Kurt rolls onto his back as Blaine presses impossibly closer, effectively pushing Kurt over as he mumbles "thank you," into his collarbones and settles half on top of Kurt.

Kurt's arm is a cradle around his shoulders; Blaine's face pressing against Kurt's bare chest, one leg flung over Kurt's, their hip bones knocking as they settle into the shape of one another. Blaine hums in pleasure, snuggles closer, closes his eyes and winds an arm up Kurt's chest, fingers curled slightly over his broad shoulder, falling into the hold of his body and allowing sleep to drag him easily, effortlessly, unknowingly under.

Blaine sleeps for a while, his body cushioned by Kurt's, face crushed against his chest, breath tickling Kurt's skin. And Kurt lets him, winds his arms around him and doesn't care that the only real time they've had together in almost a week is spent sleeping. Because Blaine needs this, needs the warmth of another body to know he isn't alone, to feel the press of someone protectively wrapped around him.

When Blaine eventually comes around, body pleasantly drowsy and eyes gritty with sleep, he's momentarily confused, unable to remember falling asleep.

Propping himself up on one elbow he blinks his eyes open, smiling sleep-slow at Kurt beneath him, "how long've I been…" his speech peters out as he yawns, pressing his face into Kurt's chest.

"An hour? Not long," Kurt replies, craning his head back to check the clock on the far wall, biting his lip to hold back his smile at just how adorable Blaine looks after just waking up.

"Mmm, sorry," Blaine hums as he burrows further beneath the blankets, pressing flush against Kurt as he stretches, body unfurling gently beneath Kurt's hands, eye scrunched shut, missing the smile which spreads over Kurt's face as he watches, softness in his eyes, and who can blame him for not resisting?

"D'you need some help waking up?" Kurt asks, tugging Blaine's hair from his face and rolling until he's hovering over the younger boy, who blinks up, sleepily sweet and completely gorgeous.

"What did you have in mind?" Blaine flirts back, stretching out on his back, arms arching behind his head as Kurt smiles devilishly down.

"Mmm," Kurt hums, eyes dropping over the boy's body, stretched out and sleep-hot beneath him, a couple of inches of exposed, curved stomach, the beginning of a happy trail leading beneath his pyjama pants, stretched tight between his sinfully narrow hips. "I can think of a few things…"

/

They meet Cooper around midday, looking utterly lost in the shirt section of Saks, hair finger-combed from his pale face.

"Oh thank god," he groans when he sees them approaching, striding over and pulling Kurt into a tight, crushing hug, mumbling thankyouthankyouthankyou over and over again into his hair.

Kurt catches Blaine's eye over Cooper's shoulder and stifles his laughter at the shocked expression on Blaine's face, before he catches Kurt's looking and grins back.

"Okay Coop," Kurt laughs again, strokes awkwardly at Cooper's back from where his arms are trapped at his sides, "that's enough, nice to see you too," he wriggles slightly, finally getting Cooper to release him. "How was breakfast? Find out anything that'll help us?" Kurt asks, straightening his clothes from where they'd been wrinkled.

"I actually think this dinner is going to kill me," Cooper admits straight faced, fear in his eyes.

"That bad?" Blaine asks, raising his eyebrows.

"You have no idea," Cooper responds, pulls his little brother into a quick hug, keeping his arm around Blaine's considerably smaller shoulder, tucked into the space beneath his arm, tilting to rest his head against Blaine's, who just frowns up at him.

Kurt rolls his eyes at Cooper's dramatics but humours him nonetheless, allowing him to ramble on at high speed as Kurt sets to work examining shirts, ties, cufflinks, shoes, and even suits at one point, until Cooper settles him with a terrified expression.

"I can't afford a new suit!" he almost shouts, batting Kurt's hand away from where he's skimming the collar of a beautifully tailored grey suit.

"I know!" Kurt replies, "I'm just admiring them," he says, turning enamoured to stare at the suits on display.

"Well can you admire them after my midlife crisis?" Cooper shuffles him onwards, past the suits to continue shopping, glaring at Blaine who quickly stops laughing behind them, biting his lip to stop himself.

Because it's just so funny, watching Cooper spiral further and further into almost hysterical panic as Kurt rolls his eyes and holds shirts up to his body, switching ties around and almost shouting at Cooper when he wont stop fidgeting.

"But which suit am I going to wear? Because that shirt's too dark for my black one and the navy one needs dry cleaning and-"

"Oh my god," Kurt swings around swiftly and takes hold of his shoulders, "breath," he demands, eyes flicking between Cooper's, waiting until he takes a deep breath and relaxes, shoulders falling and eyes softening. "Now… have you completely forgotten about the suit your dad bought you for your 21st?" Kurt asks, smiling and watching as Cooper's face morphs from confusion to the biggest, dopiest smile.

"You're a genius," he sighs through his grin.

"I know," Kurt replies, smiling back, patting him swiftly on the shoulder before returning to the shirts in front of them, rolling his eyes fondly at Blaine, who thinks he could watch Kurt flit around the store all day.

/

Not long later Cooper is finally calm, a new shirt, tie and shoes in his arms as he tiredly follows Blaine and Kurt around the menswear department, seemingly content to just fall onto nearby seats, occasionally commenting on an item of clothing, but mostly mentally preparing himself for his upcoming dinner.

Blaine's in heaven though, shrugging on jackets and touching the soft fabrics of out-of-his-price-range polos and jumpers and the rough, denimy scratch of unworn jeans.

"Try it on," Kurt says smiling down at Blaine as he trails his fingers along the collar of a particularly nice blazer.

"Nahh," Blaine looks up, "I can't afford it," he shrugs, smiles sweetly, self-deprecatingly back at Kurt before turning away.

"Your parents gave you money for this trip right?" Kurt asks quickly.

"Well yeah, but, that's for food and things, not for designer blazers," Blaine laughs then, smiles at Kurt over his shoulder before wandering further away, admiring the rails of clothes.

But then there is a hand, warm and familiar wrapped gently around his wrist. He turns and is greeted by Kurt, blazer in hand as he smiles. "I'll buy you it, for your birthday," he says, as if he buys Blaine expensive clothes all the time.

"Er, no. You won't," Blaine tries to laugh, tugs his hand out of Kurt's grasp and takes a small step back, "it's like, 300 dollars, you're not spending that on me," he laughs at the ridiculous suggestion, "you're not spending anything on me," he adds, shaking his head as Kurt rolls his eyes.

"It's actually…" Kurt checks the price tag, "295 dollars, and come on, it's your birthday," he insists pressing the blazer into Blaine's chest with a smile. "Just try it on."

"Nope. Nu-uh," Blaine shakes his head, refuses to take the blazer, walking away backwards.

"Blaine," Kurt whines, though he's smiling, stepping forward to follow him, "I just want you to try it on."

"Just try it on Blaine, he won't shut up, trust me," Cooper pipes up from where he's sat near the changing room, watching the exchange with a tired smile.

Blaine frowns at him, and back at Kurt who's smiling widely, far too pleased with himself, before snatching the blazer from his hands. "Fine," he huffs, beginning to unbutton his cardigan.

"Wait!" Kurt says, dashing away for a moment before returning, a pair of dark jeans and a gorgeous grey shirt in hand, "with these," he presses them into Blaine's hands and bites his lip at the indignant, verging on pissed-off expression on Blaine's face.

"You're ridiculous," Blaine says before turning and crossing to the changing rooms, smiling as nicely as possible at the assistant in the doorway before entering one of the small rooms, muttering under his breath.

He emerges a matter of minutes later, jeans wrapped sinfully tight around his legs, so tight he can't help but wonder if Kurt purposely got a size too small for him, and the blazer done up over the tight shirt, stretched over his shoulders, dipped in at his narrow waist.

He walks out, feeling utterly absurd, coughs to get Cooper and Kurt's attention before doing a lazy twirl, raising his eyebrows in a signature 'happy?' look, before dropping his arms down at his sides.

"Holy shit," Kurt breaths almost silently, "your shoulder look… really good," he says, eyes raking critically over the rest of Blaine, hard thighs and calves, the inward curve of his waist, tiny hips, all accentuated by his shoulders, broad and strong beneath the dark fabric.

He only realises his words, and the fact that he's blatantly gawping, when he sees the shocked, though admittedly pleased, smile which curls Blaine's lips, the blush which creeps over his cheeks. And then he sees out of the corner of his eye Cooper's head tilt to face him, enquiring when Kurt meets his eye.

"What? Am I not allowed to say your brother has nice shoulders?" Kurt asks, much more defensive than wholly necessary, ignoring where he can see Blaine is biting his lip before retreating quickly back to change.

Cooper just stares at him for a second before shrugging, apparently too exhausted to question it as he stands from his chair and stretches. "I need to pee," he announces, dropping his things onto his empty seat before ambling lazily away.

Kurt watches him go before glancing back at the changing rooms, weighing his options, before grabbing half a dozen shirts at random from nearby racks and entering the changing rooms. "I'm just taking these to my friend," he explains to the girl working in there, "could you keep an eye on our things on that chair?" he asks, nodding over at Cooper's stuff. She nods and points Kurt towards Blaine's door.

He thanks her and rushes over, thankful that it's one of the furthest away ones and that there are few other people in there, before knocking swiftly on the door. "Hey, it's me, open up," he says as quietly and urgently as possible.

"Kurt?" comes the delayed reply, followed by the almost silent slot of a lock being undone.

Kurt slides in quickly, shirts grasped in one hand, crumpled in his grip, forgotten in his haste as he steps forward, presses Blaine back into the wall of the small, darkly decorated room instantly, and watches his eyes widen, startled and confused, turned on and scared all at once before Kurt reaches out, slides the lock back into place.

"Hey," Kurt smiles down at him devilishly, dropping the shirts onto the leather bench at the side before crowding up closer to Blaine, pressing him harder against the wall, slotting their bodies together and sliding his hands along Blaine's sides, beneath the fabric of the blazer.

"Hi," Blaine replies, breathless already as he twines his hands up, knots them in Kurt's hair, arcs his back against the wall, into Kurt's touch as he blinks up, licks his parted lips and waits, desperately, for Kurt to do something.

But Kurt just grins down at him, watches his pupils dilate even more in the dimly lit room as he skims his hands in worship down Blaine's sides, over his hips, around to grasp the firm, round globes of his ass and squeeze, revelling in his surprised little yelp, the forward jolt of his narrow hips.

"Where's-" Blaine begins, but then suddenly Kurt's lips are on his, warm and wet, sliding easily, effortlessly together as he glides a hot, wanting hand beneath the already rucked fabric of Blaine's shirt, over the warm curve of his stomach, the scratch of barely there hairs against his palm as his hand continues around, presses hard to the base of Blaine's spine and arcs him forward, pressed half-hard against Kurt's thigh and whimpering into his mouth.

Kurt pulls back suddenly, shushes him with a finger to his parted, pink lips before grinning slowly, pressing a last, linger kiss to his lips before moving along to the joint of his jaw, down the slope of his neck, over his collar bones, the secret hollow of his throat, hearing Blaine's breath hitch above him.

"You need to stay quiet Blaine," Kurt slinks up and whispers hot into his ear, sucks the lobe between his sharp teeth momentarily as he moves one hand forward to cup the growing bulge in Blaine's pants, swallowing Blaine low moan into his own mouth. He pulls back with a warning glance and watches, heart racing, as Blaine sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and nods once, minutely, slumping his head back silently against the wall when Kurt squeezes his cock gently, just to check.

"Good," Kurt grins, flicks open the boys fly as he speaks, "Cooper's gone toilet, but I know this store and can -ah- guarantee you he'll get lost," he breaths against Blaine's lips, finally slinking his hand down the front of his boxers, grazing his fingers over Blaine's now completely hard cock before wrapping them firmly, tightly around him, ripping a choked moan from his lips as his eyelashes flutter beautifully in the orange light.

Kurt smirks at him before attaching his lips to his neck, scraping his teeth over his humming pulse, soothing the skin with his tongue as he pumps Blaine fast and rhythmless. It's too dry and too quick and perfect as with his free hand he pushes the unbought jeans down to Blaine's ankles, because he really doesn't want him to get come on jeans he doesn't even own.

Eventually he has no choice but to seal his lips over Blaine's, stifling his breathy ah ah ah's with his own lips, swallowing them down as Blaine's hands grip and grasp through his hair, his body bucking irregularly forward into Kurt's hand as he speeds up, tightens his grip, twists on the upstroke and without warning grabs Blaine's ass with his free hand, kneading the flesh as he presses his own body forward.

Blaine pulls back quickly, lips detaching from Kurt's with a wet smack, head thumping the wall, eyes rolling back, falling closed, a long breath being sucked between his bitten, delicious lips.

"Shit," Kurt curses, automatically falling to his knees, onto the thankfully carpeted floor, licking his lips momentarily, simultaneously tugging Blaine's boxers down before sinking hot and tight over Blaine's dick, hearing the boy groan too-loud above him as his hands settle in Kurt's hair, nails sharp and dragging. And it only takes a few more seconds, a few well swirled licks and tight sucks to cleave Blaine's orgasm out of him, spilling down Kurt's throat, who just closes his eyes, ignores the throbbing in his own pants and takes it.

Kurt pulls back and looks up when Blaine's finished coming, licking his lips unthinkingly and catches Blaine staring, face flushed with heat, chest heaving with each deep, rough breath and eyes blown so impossibly, unfathomably wide.

Kurt stands up slowly in front of him, drags his boxers back up his thighs and over his cock before tucking a stray, errand curl behind his ear, easing it down into the considerably looser gel and leans forward, kisses him surprisingly sensitively, winds his arms around the boys body and feels him melt easily into Kurt's embrace.

"Fuck," Blaine mumbles in between soft, savouring kisses, feeling Kurt smile in return.

And then his phone rings, loud and blaring, unignorable as he pulls back, shoots Kurt an apologetic glance before grabbing his phone from where it rests on the floor, Cooper's number flashing up momentarily before it stop ringing all together.

"Blaine!" a familiar voice then calls, followed by equally familiar footfalls.

"Shit!" Blaine whispers, looks up at Kurt who looks equally terrified, before he kicks off the unbought jeans, grabs his own, stumbles slightly as he pulls them on and only feels vaguely ridiculous. Kurt fixes his, admittedly ruined, hair in the mirror while Blaine buttons his fly, shrugs off the blazer and with shaking fingers hands it back on it's hanger.

"Blaine?" Cooper repeats, considerably closer.

"Yeah," Blaine calls back, voice squawkily high pitched.

He catches Kurt's eye in the mirror and glares at him when Kurt is just as frozen as him.

"Down here," he calls before inching the door open, poking his head out to see Cooper coming towards him.

"Hey," he greets, "d'you know where Kurt's gone? He left my stuff outside."

"Errr…" Blaine trails off, can feel his heart pounding against his chest and almost thinks he's going to puke with fear, when all of a sudden Kurt's speaks behind him.

"I'm in here Coop," Kurt says calmly, as if he hadn't had Blaine's cock down his throat a matter of second ago.

"Are you going to let me in then Blaine?" Cooper asks when Blaine keeps the door mostly shut but for his own head poking out.

"Er, yeah, course," he stutters and steps aside, ignores Cooper's eye roll and closes the door behind them before turning. And oh god, is this really happening? The three of them are crowded into a changing room, Blaine's still flushed from coming barely a minute previously and Kurt's hair looks, well, there's no other word for it than thoroughly fucked.

Cooper's staring at Kurt, as if he's going to ask what the hell he's doing in a changing room with his little brother, when Kurt catches his eye from where he's holding two shirts up to Blaine's not-yet-bought blazer.

"What?" he asks when Cooper continues to stare.

But Cooper just averts his eyes to the shirts in his hands, glances between the two briefly before cocking his head. "I like the maroon one," he finally says, and both Kurt and Blaine silently let the breath they were both holding, relaxing considerably.

"Me too," Kurt says, smiles as best he can while his heart is till thumping a mile a minute, before placing the two shirts in his hands back onto the bench with the others. "I'll wait for your guys outside," he then says, because he really does not need to be in an enclosed space with them both right now.

As he crosses the small room Blaine catches his eye and smiles a little, turned up one side, sad on the other, and Kurt realises in that moment that he wants nothing more than to step forward and curl his arms around Blaine and just breath him in, that it's not actually the sex he misses when he's not around Blaine. It's just Blaine. His little shrugs and big eyes, long lashes, wild hair and broad, strong hands, the loud, gratifying ring of his laughter and, more than anything, the way his body fits so effortlessly, easily against Kurt's.

Kurt waits outside the changing rooms, heart thundering as he pretends to browse the t-shirt nearby until he hears Cooper shout him over. He crosses to them and is pleased to see Blaine holding the blazer.

"You're getting it?" he asks with a smile.

"Uh huh," Blaine nods as they head over to the cashier, smiles up at Kurt sweetly, and not for the first time Kurt feels as if the ground has been pulled from beneath his feet.