"Kurt, c'mon, we're almost done with the Era of Good Feelings. Just one more term, 'Kay?"

Kurt rolled over on his stomach, groaning into the sheets of his bed. His US History final was the next day, and he'd recruited Blaine to keep him on task. That turned out to be a big mistake, however, as he couldn't stop imagining himself creating an Ohio Resolve that gave him the right to nullify Blaine's utter hotness. He was able to focus for the majority of the colonial era, since it was so damn boring with uber-pious Puritans and economically-driven plantation owners and Native wars here and there. Just as they were getting into Non-Intercourse, however, that was all Kurt could think about--subtract the "non", add "Blaine", and that became the equation that was swiftly dragging Kurt off-course.

"Fine," he mumbled, and stared down at his hands as he waited for Blaine to give him the term he needed to define.

He heard Blaine flip his notecards to the last word from the section. "Oh, this is an easy one!" He exclaimed. Kurt felt him shift on the mattress, moving even closer to him. His scent sent Kurt's mind reeling. "Monroe Doctrine. Go."

I know this. I know this. Blaine knows it too; he probably knows how much I want to rip off that little bow tie so I can kiss his neck for hours...

"Okay, so, um, a bunch of Latin American nations gained independence from Spain..."

"Good," Blaine encouraged him, but Kurt only heard it as a moan as his fingers fumbled with the buttons on Fantasy-Blaine's shirt and moved down to--Shit. Stop it. You can't go beneath the equator.

"Yeah...so Monroe was afraid that, um, Spain and England and other European nations would go back down and try to colonize the new nations, since they were small and weak, while the European nations were...big, strong, powerful..." He could feel Fantasy-Blaine's sinewy arms engulfing him as Kurt continued to kiss him, peppering his jaw, his neck, his chest...above the equator, above the equator, above the equator...

"Anyway," he continued shakily, feeling Blaine's heat radiating onto him as he scooted a little closer, "Monroe said in...1823?" His thoughts were quickly becoming undone as a phantom hand landed on his thigh, something that was not allowed, "that no one could interfere with south of the equator, they could only stay north, ugh," he said quickly, his breath hitching as he adjusted himself and felt an ungodly friction against the front of his jeans. As his mind cleared, he realized what he said.

"No, no, that's not what I meant--oh God, Western and Eastern Hemispheres, no," a rosy blush crept across his cheeks and nose as he hid his face in his hands.

"Kurt, did you just get our agreement confused with the Monroe Doctrine?" Kurt could practically hear him smiling in his voice.

"No. Maybe. Yes." He admitted.

"Oh." Blaine said. "Well, one last thing. What did these nations think about that doctrine?"

"Of course they didn't like it," Kurt replied, feeling his blush continue up to the tips of his ears.

"Do we have a consensus that both of us don't like our little doctrine and maybe want to negotiate the boundaries?" Blaine queried, placing his hands on Kurt's little waist and flipping him over. He stared into Kurt's eyes, his pupils dilated so much so there was just a thin ring of good around them. Kurt could only manage a single nod of his head, and Blaine swooped down to kiss him. It was long, sloppy, incredibly wet, and absolutely perfect.

"Wait, we didn't schedule this as a make-out session; this was supposed to be a study session," Kurt reluctantly broke away, feeling as if his lips had a negative charge and Blaine's were positive: he could hardly keep the opposite poles separate when they were so damn close to each other.

"I'm trying to negotiate here," Blaine retorted, kissing him again. "Anyway, I've been dying to do this with you the entire time." He pressed his mouth to Kurt's a third time, unable to restrain his unrequited passion, as Kurt was momentarily caught off-guard by this. His hands found the hem of Blaine's shirt and slipped underneath, tracing the hard v-shape of his hips.

"I guess we can take a quick little detour. American history can be such a turn-off with death and slavery and such," Kurt crashed their lips together again, and buried his face in Blaine's neck, consummating his fantasy. Blaine moaned, lifting his head and exposing his neck even more. "I think we'll have to save the negotiations and treaties for after the studying, though, because after this break I'm really going to have to concentrate, as much as I don't want to."

"You're going to make me wait for another eighty years?" Blaine whined as Kurt tugged at his bow tie. "Might as well move onto the Civil War now so I can cool down, because that stuff is even more boring than what we were doing before."

"I beg to differ; the caning of Sumner is way more interesting than the First Continental Congress—screw you Georgia for having too many issues to be there!"

"I never took you as the violent type," Blaine said lowly, "but I have to disagree: are you familiar with tar and feathering? I think we forgot to go over that," His breath and teeth tickled Kurt's ear, sending a series of shivers down his spine.

"That's when the colonists would cover British officers with hot, sticky tar...oh," he gasped as Blaine lifted his shirt over his head, "okay, this--isn't going to work," he stuttered as his hands disobeyed him, running up and down Blaine's uncovered sides.

"Kurt, you have an A in that damn class, you don't need to study. Let's go back to our negotiations," Blaine said, his hands tugging at the bottom of Kurt's shirt, "I'm sick of all of this history-talk."

"Me too," Kurt agreed as he let Blaine strip the offending clothing from his body, and the negotiations commenced.