Kurt and Rachel were walking to gym after a rather difficult science lesson squished into a half-day schedule (they had a half-day for teacher curriculum, or something along those lines as far as Kurt was concerned): Rachel had not been able to make any remarks about his newly changed relationship status, for she was too busy taking notes on carbohydrates. Right after the bell rang, however, Kurt knew he was doomed. She grabbed his arm and led him out of the classroom as quickly as possible, squealing right as they passed under the door.

"Rachel, we already discussed this for at least forty-five minutes last night. What else can I tell you?"

"You can tell me if he's a good kisser or not!" Rachel clapped her hands, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Fine. He is." Blaine was actually extraordinarily good, but he wasn't about to admit that to her.

"So Iamgood. Thanks, Kurt!" A familiar voice said from behind them, and Kurt whirled around to see Blaine behind them, a smile on his face. Kurt was glad that he didn't say more about the matter, since his ears were already burning. "Can I talk to you? Just for a second," he nodded towards the boy's bathroom next to them.

"We're going to the locker room for gym; why can't we do it-oh!" Blaine grabbed Kurt's arm and dragged him away. Kurt gave Rachel a strangled "bye" as he was thrust into the bathroom: no one was inside, thankfully.

All of a sudden Blaine's lips were on his, warm and wet and slightly flavored from his Chapstick. Kurt let himself melt into the kiss; it was somewhat of a relief after nearly only a stressful hour of school.

"What was that for?" Kurt asked incredulously as they broke apart, placing his hands on the sink behind him to steady himself.

"One, because I missed you, two, because I needed to remind myself that the boyfriend I've been telling some people about is actually here and not at Dalton, and three, because I am not just a good kisser, I amgreat," he said conceitedly, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Fine, you're the best kisser in the world. Satisfied?" Kurt retorted with as much endearing sarcasm as he could muster, and Blaine gave him a smug smile. "No, but have you really told people?"

"...By 'people' I meant Sam. And we should go; Rachel will probably get suspicious." Kurt nodded, and they exited the bathroom. "Anyway," Blaine began carefully when they entered the hallway, "It's only third period, and I'm not about to go to the front of my classes and be like 'hey, I've got a boyfriend!' I told Sam before school, and he sort of looked at me and said 'yeah, I kind of expected it, since you'd always make this weird face when we'd talk about boobs and banging girls.' Oops. He said that he was cool with it, though, and that he's mad that I've lost my single status before him. That's no surprise, based on the amount of times he does impressions—he's such a nerd."

Kurt laughed as they entered the locker room, the acrid aroma of sweat and testosterone engulfing them.

"While it's nice to subtly check out the very few attractive guys in here," Blaine whispered in his ear, changing the subject while they navigated their way through the maze of lockers and changing boys, "I just don't like the locker room. It's a tad bit too unsanitary for me. And then I feel like a creep-like when I saw you in here for the first time."

"What about that?" All Kurt could remember was the length of the shorts Blaine was wearing-or the lack of it.

"You, um, you weren't wearing any shorts," Blaine said timidly, and Kurt was almost a hundred percent sure his ears were on fire. They were at Kurt's locker; he'd subconsciously unlocked it and had started to retrieve his gym clothes. "I guess-I guess I'll go now," Blaine glanced at Kurt's torso, where his hand was on the hem of his shirt.

"Oh-right." Kurt called to Blaine's retreating figure.Oh God, was I about to strip right in front of him? He thought worriedly, and started to change a bit faster than usual. The thought of Blaine seeing him without a shirt...it was daunting. Doing other things was exponentially more frightening.

The one question he'd refused to answer during their little game on Sunday continued to bother him all week long. Sometimes he was glad that he hadn't answered to save himself the embarrassment, but other times he almost felt remorse for not admitting to Blaine. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was somewhat afraid of sex and anything related to it. Kurt was thankful that Blaine hadn't really explored the topic because he'd probably die-he knew death would definitely come if Burt discussed...it...with him. He'd welcome death over "The Talk."

Something was changing, though. Ever since Blaine came into the picture, a minuscule interest in the subject had awakened in the back of his mind. He felt that he owed it to himself to understand these feelings, and knew that he should at least acknowledge them.

What he didn't know was that Blaine had a little plan for him and his father that night.

"Mr. Hummel, can you talk?" Blaine walked into Hummel Tires and Lube on Monday right as school let out, since practice was still being held at normal time. The fact that Kurt, his own boyfriend, hardly knew a thing about sex continued to bother him ever since Sunday night when he'd laid in his bed considering this dilemma when usually he'd be masturbating while thinking of Kurt-now that just seemedweird. Not that it wasn't awkward in the first place-he'd done it before they got together, more times than he'd ever admit. He knew that with Kurt's young age, he'd be uneducated, but this was not what he'd expected at all. In fact, Blaine was shocked that Mr. Hummel didn't speak with Kurt yet. They had such a great relationship, from what Blaine could tell...perhaps Burt was afraid as well.

"Yeah, what's up?" He looked so masculine as he retreated from the car he was working on, his hands and parts of his face covered in car grease.

"Is it okay if I ask you something? I hope I don't overstep or anything..."

"Hey, Kurt? Could you come up here for a bit?" Kurt closed his English textbook, grumbling under his breath as he suspected that his father was calling him upstairs to wash dishes or do something trivial and less important than his English homework.

He entered the kitchen to find his dad hovering over the table, where he could see a few thin sheets of colorful paper sitting in front of him. Upon further inspection, he saw the words "gay" and "sex" and other phrases that set off a golf course of red flags in his mind.

"No, no,no, we are not discussing this!" Kurt said, sticking his fingers in his ears.What is going on, why has he decided to do this now, oh God, it's only been three days and he's already found out-

"You know I don't want to do this either, but to be frank, you're in high school now, and, excuse my French, but shit is going to happen, and I want you to be prepared. I kind of...flipped through these pamphlets here, and I think they explain it pretty well, so I'll be brief. I'm not going to go through the...mechanics of it, but this is more education than the amount you get at school, which is zero regarding gay sex.

"All I'm going to say is that I don't want you throwing yourself around like you're not worth anything, because you are worth something-more than something, at least to me. And maybe one day you'll find someone that also thinks you're worth more than something, and you two can practice this safely...when you're at least thirty. Got it?"

Kurt merely grunted in reply, letting his father's wise words bounce around in his mind despite his anger. What could have ever possessed his father to discuss this now?

"Where did you get these pamphlets from, Dad?" He queried, refusing to look at them until Burt shoved them in his face.

Burt shifted a little uncomfortably. "I don't think he really wanted me to mention his name, but Blaine stopped by today and talked to me about how I should have a chat with you before you had to find out for yourself. He gave them to me. That kid is really looking out for you, even though this came out of the blue. Does this have to do with something that happened this weekend?" Burt inquired with a raised eyebrow, and Kurt immediately shook his head, his rage at Blaine increasing by the minute. "Good. Now take these pamphlets and read them, please. I'm going to come down at some point and make sure you're reading them, okay? No skimming. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

"Okay."I am going to kill Blaine. I am going to kill Blaine. I am going to kill Blaine.

He grabbed the papers and cantered away, trying to figure out the most effective method of murder.

I know. I ignore him, just like old times. If he wants me to talk aboutthat, then I'm not going to talk about anything, especially not tohim.

...

Maybe just for a few days, since I probably won't be able to handle any longer than that.

"Oh, so you still show up after ignoring me for a whole two days," Blaine intoned monotonously when he opened the door of the gym to find Kurt in front of him.

"Can we talk now?" Kurt asked, unable to meet Blaine's eyes. It was true-he'd hardly even glanced at Blaine since Tuesday morning when he'd accidentally made eye contact while walking to second period. While it somewhat killed him to ignore his boyfriend, it didn't feel any worse than the pain Blaine had inflicted on him. He'd considered not going to his extra practice with Blaine that night, but figured that enough time had passed for their relationship to be in question, and that somehow Sue Sylvester would find out and skin him.

"If you're willing to, then sure. I guess it was a good thing that I set everything up with a small hope that you'd come," Blaine laughed quietly as he led Kurt to the edge of the basketball court, where a blue mat was lying. "I was just working on the new routine by myself; we can work on it together after we get this all sorted out. Either way, we're going to be stuck here with each other for two hours unless you—you decide to leave," he said cautiously, and gestured for Kurt to take a seat in the center of the mat. He did as he was instructed, and Blaine followed suit, sliding down the wall behind him.

"I'm not sorry for what I asked of your father. It's important for you to know, and it's better that it would happen that way. No, let me finish," Blaine cut Kurt's attempt to interrupt off, "I-I want you to know exactly what you do or do not want in this relationship, if we even have one anymore, which I hope to God that we still do, because I don't know how I can live knowing that I only dated you for not even aweek. I'm sorry that you're uncomfortable with the subject, and it seems like you still are, but trust me, it's a lot better that you did it this way, rather than how I did through looking it up on my own, or how you could've learned through...through practice." A pause fell upon then as the two of them imagined the latter two: Kurt could not help but feel like maybe his talk with his dad really wasn't so bad-at least in comparison. "I just want you to know that we can talk about...I don't know, whatever, and that I will never, never,neverpressure you into anything, okay?" His last statement sunk into Kurt's brain, along with the rest of what Blaine said. While he hated to think it, Blaine was right. It wasn't just educational for Kurt himself, but his father too. What would come of his and Blaine's physical relationship, he had no idea, but based on the way his heart was thumping at the fact that Blaine's thigh was brushing against his, and that his eyes couldn't decide whether they wanted to focus on Blaine's eyes or his lips while he listened to him talk, Kurt knew that it was heading in that direction. In fact, he was starting to feel grateful towards Blaine that he'd taken the initiative.

"Okay. I'm sorry that I reacted this way; it's so immature and stupid and ugh I feel like an idiot."

"Kurt, I think I know you pretty well, well enough to know that you arenotan idiot." Blaine placed a comforting hand on Kurt's back and rubbed it gently. "Now that that's all over with—right?" Kurt confirmed by nodding, and Blaine continued, "—we can move onto practicing."

After about an hour of vigorously going over the new, difficult routine, and finally mastering his hurdler and pike jumps, Blaine granted Kurt a desperately-needed water break. Blaine opted to continue tumbling on the mat instead. Kurt watched from the bleachers, amazed at his boyfriend's incredible flexibility: he'd never really realized how talented he was. After a few minutes, Blaine ended with a split, and Kurt got down from his seat, clapping slowly.

"That was just...my mind is blown, Blaine." He approached an exhausted Blaine, shaky breaths racking through his body as he rose from the floor.

"Oh, stop it," Blaine panted and waved Kurt away. "I think that's enough for tonight, so we can end early. I don't think I can handle anything else." He backed up against the wall and sighed; Kurt followed and stood next to him. "Before we end, though...can I just..." He faced Kurt, a small spark igniting in his tired eyes as he leaned over and brushed his wet lips against Kurt's chapped ones, his warm breath beating against Kurt's cheeks as he pulled away. "I'm sorry, I've been waiting all night, no, scratch that,two daysto do that. It's like drinking water again." He kissed Kurt more urgently, whose body automatically responded because shit, he missed it so much, and a new kind of fervor engulfed the two of them as Blaine shifted so he was in front of Kurt.

"I know it's ridiculous," Blaine said breathlessly as he pressed his lips against Kurt's again, "but I missed you so fucking much during the past twenty four hours. Never. Do. That. Again." He peppered little kisses along Kurt's jawline at each pause, and emphasized the order with a fierce, passion-driven kiss that almost made Kurt forget his own name.Hummel has two m's, right?

"Okay" was all Kurt could utter as he returned it, letting his hands rest on Blaine's hips. He let his thumbs dig into the damp, cottony material of his shirt, pressing into his protruding bones under a hard layer of skin and muscle. He yearned to sneak his fingers underneath the offensive article of clothing and simply touch him, but he didn't know how to ask.Should I ask? Would he like it if I just did it? All I want to do is feel that smooth skin beneath my fingers; I bet he's completely ripped...

"Are you all right?" Blaine unexpectedly broke away again; this time, however, there was a concerned look on his face, and his hands drifted away from Kurt's back. "You seem to be distracted. Am I...am I doing something wrong?"

It wouldn't hurt to tell him."I was just wondering whether I should ask you if it's okay to-to, um, do this," Kurt replied, and timidly grazed his fingertips against the hem of Blaine's shirt, very nearly making contact with the sliver of skin that was showing above his warm-up pants. The way he felt Blaine shiver at the gesture sent a burst of electricity throughout all of his nerves.

"Iknow," Blaine replied coyly, and backed away from Kurt to reach his hands behind him and-

Oh no. Oh God. Oh fucking hell this isnothappening!

Blaine threw his shirt to the floor and grabbed Kurt's trembling hands, placing them on his trim, sweaty hips. They were cool and hard like fine marble; Blaine truly was a work of art, a majestic sculpture one can only find in the Louvre or the National Gallery or somewhere where it can be admired by millions.

But they were in the school gym, and Blaine was a living, breathing person (who had reverted back to kissing Kurt rather sloppily), and he was all Kurt's. Only Kurt could see him like this, could touch him-and he knew that he'd take full advantage of his exclusive VIP access.

He shamelessly let his hands travel up and down Blaine's olive skin, still tanned from shirtless days by the pool over the summer, Kurt assumed. Strangely enough, he didn't mind how sweaty Blaine was—it was actuallyhot. His fingers caressed Blaine's rib bones like piano keys, playing some inaudible, imagined melody that locked in time with the now-rhythmic touches of their lips. The incoherent sound crescendoed as Blaine threaded his arms through Kurt's and rested on the small of his back, urging him closer. Kurt obeyed, their bodies so close together that it didn't seem physically possible that they still weren't touching. Kurt was slightly disheartened at this fact, since he wanted Blaine to stand back so he could stare at his beautiful body and memorize its every intricacy, but his disappointment was soon smothered with the sensation of a pair of hungry lips on his neck, completely unexplored territory. This is new, Kurt thought: before, he'd flinch at the thought of someone kissing his neck, or even worse, giving him a hickey, but now that seemed okay-not okay, desirable. His fingers increased their runs over the keys of Blaine's rib cage as Blaine searched and searched across the alabaster canvas of Kurt's skin.

"Oh," Kurt let out a low moan he didn't even know he was capable of as Blaine found a sensitive spot just below his ear, close to his fluttering pulse. Blaine uttered an equally erotic moan, knowing that he was doing something so right, so incredibly right, and continued to suck on that same spot, conjuring mixed feelings of insignificant, miniscule pain and infinite pleasure and a pressing necessity for more, more, more. He let his head fall back against the wall; his hands unconsciously rubbed higher and higher, feeling Blaine's upper abs and pecs until-

"Kurt!" Blaine hissed when his fingertips accidentally brushed Blaine's nipples.Oh my god. Oh my god. What have I done?He was embarrassed that he'd lost control, that his hands had wandered from their safe spot on his sides, and wasn't necessarily sure if it was a pleasant feeling, to have someone touch-

"Kurt," Blaine repeated, but moaned it in the most amorous, desperate way that caused the hairs on the back of Kurt's neck to prickle. He felt Blaine push him back up against the wall behind him roughly, but then contrasted his aggressive manner with a sweet, deep kiss, his entire mouth capturing Kurt's. He willed his drooping eyelids open to try to watch Blaine, but all he could see was smooth, clear skin in front of him, his own hands (when did that happen?) grasping onto both of his cheeks. As they separated for air, Kurt caught a quick glance at the clock and jumped in surprise.

"Wha's wrong?" Blaine slurred, his eyes fixed on Kurt with a sedated look in his hazel eyes. He looked so at peace; as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"We've got to go; it's nearly 11:10!" He slipped away under Blaine's arms, making sure that Blaine could only see his back because he wassohard it was embarrassing. Blaine seemed to wake up at that, and Kurt heard him fall in step next to him. They grabbed their bags; Kurt tried to discreetly hide himself from Blaine by holding his bag in front of him. He glanced at Blaine, who seemed to be doing the same thing.Fuck.At this rate, there was no way he'd be able to cool down.

They wordlessly sprinted out of the gym and into the cold night, their breaths visible in the sparse lighting of the parking lot. Kurt jumped into the passenger seat as Blaine got in next to him and floored it. As they pulled out of the property, Kurt watched a new pair of headlights enter.

"That was close," he said, turning towards Blaine, who was focused on the road.

"That was close," Blaine repeated with a sigh, "we have to be a little more careful when we...lose our focus." They laughed, the ever-present sexual tension persistently swirling around them even in the air of their escape.

That was the first night Kurt jerked off. How could he help himself after such a heavy make-out session left completely unresolved? There he was, laying in his bed surrounded by dark shadows that continuously turned into Blaine-Blaine standing in front of the bed, Blaine taking off his shirt, Blaine creeping up over him and engulfing him, the presence of his illusory silhouette causing the memory of the past few hours back to replay in his mind...

Before Kurt knew it, he was palming at his half-hard erection, not even sure of how that happened. All he knew was that he kind of liked it. He backed the heel of his palm into his clothed crotch and felt his breath hitch in his throat. This...this was much different than kissing. This was far more...he couldn't find the word.

This was...amazing.

He gasped as, for a split second, the image of Blaine doing this to him crossed his brain.Jesus fucking Christ.He squirmed in his bed as his hand then fluttered to the waistband of his pajamas. His cock was already aching to be touched again. He could feel Blaine's broad hands on him again, teasing at the material, his long, piano-playing fingers slipping underneath...

No. You are not going to think about Blaine while doing this. That is just weird. And wrong. And so fucking hot-goddamnit, Kurt, just get it over with!

But you're doing this because of Blaine, right? A small voice protested as his hand continued to brush over himself. Something Blaine had said about a month ago came back to him, looping like a broken record in his mind:I'm the fucking captain of the Cheerios, I can't be staying up all night thinking of a-a freshman like you!He'd basically admitted to fooling around with himself multiple times. Am I really that...he didn't want to use the word sexy, because that was the absolute last word he'd use to describe himself, but it seemed to be the only appropriate word to use. Regardless, though, Blaine had admitted to touching himself because of Kurt, and Kurt wasn't sure of what to think of the information. As he gripped himself in his hand, he didn't want to think anymore.

"Alright, settle down, everyone. Blaine asked if he could do a number since he's recently come out," some mutters echoed around the choir room, where Blaine and Mr. Schuester were standing by the piano the next day, "and I couldn't turn him or his amazing voice down, so, take it away, Blaine."

Kurt stared down at Blaine, who only sent him a fleeting glance. He had that weird look in his eyes, something churning in his nearly-gold irises as he looked around the room. Blaine had been jittery all day long; Kurt figured that it was out of exuberance for their make-up and make-out from the night before, but

"This is dedicated to my boyfriend," his stupid grin grew as he enunciated the word, "since I wouldn't have gotten through this process without him." Rachel made a little sound and spun around to stare at Kurt. Her smile was even more ridiculous than Blaine's; it rivaled that of the Cheshire Cat. Kurt sent her the death glare, imagining little knives embedded in her body, since someone definitely noticed that she'd looked at Kurt, someone must've found out, oh my God no...

"Hit it!" Blaine said to the band of brass instruments, and they began to play a very familiar song. All of Kurt's troubles floated away with the upbeat tune as he watched Blaine prance around the floor like an idiot, putting a pair of yellow-framed Ray Bans on that contrasted awfully with his Cheerios uniform. He occasionally looked up at Kurt with that same dumb smile that he loved more than he could ever enunciate.

"It's not unusual to be loved by anyone," Blaine's smooth, tenor voice began, and once again Kurt found himself falling into its charm, as did everyone else, as far as he could tell. They began clapping along; Mercedes went as far as helping Rachel up so they could start dancing. This song was so uncharacteristic of the serious, no-nonsense cheer captain Kurt had met at the beginning of the year.

"It's not unusual to find out I'm in love with you," Blaine belted out before a series of vocal runs, and Kurt felt his hands stop before they met to clap again. Did he really mean that line? The song was about love, and he dedicated it to his boyfriend...he couldn't really mean that he was in love, just that he harbored strong feelings for Kurt, strong enough for him to simply dedicate the performance, not the actual words.

Regardless, the lyrics still sunk into his skin, simmering and seeping into his veins.

Friday soon came along, which meant the Glee club's big recruitment performance. Mr. Schue had presented a bunch of ideas to the club, all of which were rejected simply for being disco. They'd protested as much as they could, but of course Mr. Schue's executive power could not be overthrown by the people, and he was adamant in having them perform a disco number.

The club had different plans, though—namely, Santana. She'd gathered up the entire club immediately after the tortuous meeting (aside from Blaine's outstanding performance, of course) and herded them into the gym to divulge her idea.

"Listen up, dumb asses. None of you want to perform that song, right? It's awful and it won't get us any new members, not to mention that we'll all look like fucktards. Well, most of you already do, but I can't afford to look any more like a peasant than I already do by giving this stupid club my precious time that I could be fucking someone's boyfriend with. I've got a number that will definitely have people interested," she gave them a devilish grin, and Kurt knew that either it wouldn't or it would get them all in trouble. "We need to do a sexy song." Definitely the latter.

"All right, places everyone!" Rachel called out, and Kurt took his spot next to Santana. There were only seconds before the curtain would open and the entire Glee club would become sex fiends.

"This was probably the best idea I've had yet; there's no way this club will survive," she whispered into Kurt's ear, and then slapped his ass as the curtains parted. He had no time to react as the music started-there was only one word going through his mind that began with "f" and ended with "uck", but was not "firetruck."

"Get up on this!" Kurt stole a glance at Blaine on the other side of the stage, and felt even more gratitude for the fact that he had not been partnered with him for any of the provocative choreography. He remembered ducking his head when Santana stopped the music at the two-hour long practice the day before to help Blaine with gyrating his hips the right way and the stab of jealously that reverberated throughout his entire body. That was quickly replaced with embarrassment when Santana walked over to him to fix the same problem.

"What, you and Blaine aren't fucking yet?" she had breathed into his ear as she put her hands on his hips, and Kurt resisted the urge to slap her. Well, he did get the opportunity to slap her later on during the song, but not how he wanted to.

The performance was excruciatingly long, yet it seemed to flash right before Kurt's eyes. He knew that he'd made a couple of mistakes (especially from looking at Blaine one too many times but he would never admit that to be the reason), and would probably get made fun of for ages for being the least sexy organism on the planet ("Let's face it, Santana, this is at least the fifteenth time that you've come here to fix me up; there's nothing you can do to get me to improve." "I can think of one thing..." "Santana, no." "Well then, Lady Madonna, I guess there really is no hope for you."), but as they stood at the edge of the stage, gasping for breath after shouting "Push it!" one last time, he knew it didn't matter as the entire gymnasium exploded with applause.

Even though Blaine had offered to drive him over after the game on Saturday, Kurt opted to go home first so he could shower and physically and mentally prepare himself. There was a certain pressure with being home alone with Blaine, although now he trusted him completely: it was simply the idea. It didn't mean that he wasn't looking forward to the benefits, though. They'd hardly had any time to talk since "Push It", and Kurt could tell that Blaine had a lot to say based on the way he'd looked at him afterwards.

"Hey, come on in, it's cold out there!" Blaine dragged Kurt inside after he'd spent some time waiting for him to open the door of his house. He took in the interior of the large house as he took off his shoes. From the outside, the house looked rather nice: as Kurt examined his surroundings, it was obvious that the exterior was an accurate reflection of the inside. He figured that Blaine's parents held higher-class jobs than his father's car-shop ownership. Blaine led him down a hallway filled with elaborate paintings and intricate decor; as they reached the end of the hall, Kurt peered into the room in front of them, since the door was left ajar. He could see the polished keys of a baby grand piano in front of them. Unfortunately, Kurt could not inspect any further as Blaine turned to the left and started down a flight of stairs into what must be the basement. Kurt knew he shouldn't be shocked to see it considering the other lavish paraphernalia he'd seen throughout the house, but a large, barely-used couch was sitting in front of a theater-type screen, and his jaw couldn't help but drop slightly.

"So, do you want to start the movie first or chat?" Blaine asked as they plopped down onto the couch. "We have plenty of time, but I wanted to cook something for dinner by seven, and the movie is kind of long so..."

"We can talk, I guess. What's for dinner?"

"Something," Blaine said cryptically, "you'll see. Do you think Coach is still mad at Santana?"

"Probably, yes. Did you see her after 'Push It?' I've never seen her so livid. When she found out it was Santana's idea...I don't really think she listened to Santana's explanation and how she thought that the whole sex theme would get all of us in deep shit." He could still hear Santana's desperate cries over Sue's threats of expulsion from the Cheerios as the rest of the Cheerios listened through the door of their coach's office earlier that day.

"I'm glad it didn't. We got a lot of new members, right?"

"Right. I guess it was worth it, in the end, even though Mr. Schue was almost as pissed as Coach. We just can't get rid of the club, can we?"

"Nope, and I'm glad about that. That would mean no more singing, which would kill me, and probably no more Wednesday practices. Speaking of, I was hoping we could start off where Wednesday ended, since that was left way too unresolved for my liking," Blaine grinned, and leaned over to kiss Kurt. Heat rose to his cheeks as he remembered that he himself had resolved their activities, and he ducked his head. "What's up, you don't want to?"

"No," Kurt started, and sighed, unbelieving of what he was about to say, "I kind of continued where we left off...by myself."

Kurt watched as Blaine's pupils blew up right in front of him, lust-filled black holes surrounded by stormy gold rings. His pink lips parted, and Kurt was pretty sure that he heard Blaine utter an "oh God" under his breath. He could feel himself stiffen a bit in his pants just at Blaine's reaction and how...hot it was.

"So," Blaine cleared his throat as he regained his composure after a few minutes, "so you did it?" Kurt nodded, hoping that Blaine couldn't see how red he was in the dimly lit room. "Can you..can you tell me what-what you did? I totally get it if I'm overstepping, I'm so sorry, I bet I did-"

He knew there was no way he could handle going into specifics, so he decided to be as detailed as possible, which was not much at all. "It was an interesting, um, experience. I just kind of...you know," Kurt glanced down at his guarded crotch, which was growing at Blaine's blatant interest. "It felt...amazing, in the end."

"Would it be okay if I made you feel amazing again?" Blaine asked huskily, and Kurt's brain short-circuited. He looked up into Blaine's eyes and then quickly looked away, unable to hold his bright, willing gaze.

Holy shit. He wants to touch my dick. Oh crap oh crap oh crap...there was no way he could be any more articulate in his mind.

"O-okay," he said shakily, his voice nearing two-octaves higher than his normal pitch.

"We'll start slowly, all right?" Blaine said soothingly, and brought his hand to Kurt's chin, tipping it up towards him. "You can tell me if you want to stop, if it ever gets to be too much. Is that okay?"

For the first time, Kurt leaned forward and let the corners of his lips meet Blaine's. He whispered "okay" against Blaine's mouth, and felt him hum in reply. They stayed glued together for what seemed like a millennium, and then Blaine broke away to drag his lips against Kurt's cheek towards his ear.

"You looked so damn hot yesterday; I was actually glad that we weren't together at all because I was afraid of what I would've done," his teeth grazed his hair and Blaine the proceeded to nip at his earlobe, a burst of unexpected arousal rippling through his body.

"What-what would you have done?" Kurt dared to ask, and Blaine groaned.

"Well first I would've kissed you, because I'm that much of a gentleman," he leaned down down and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, "just like that so they'd think it was just a stage kiss or something. That's inconspicuous enough, right? Then, at the part where we were both hidden in the back behind the girls, I would've kissed you how you deserve to be kissed for being so sexy, like so," and he leaned down to meet Kurt's mouth again, this time with teeth clashing and tongues meeting and the heated kiss ending as quickly as it had started, "it would be that short because we wouldn't have much time, but I'd want you to know how much I wanted you. Next, we'd be partners for the grinding part, and I'd let you rub your hand on me like what you were doing to Santana, which wassouncalled for," he demonstrated by taking Kurt's hands and placing them on his hips and running them down the hard curves of his thighs and back up again, eliciting throaty groans from both parties, "and then, that part where the girls pretended to jerk the boys off," he grinned shyly as Kurt watched him with wide eyes, "I'll show you.

"First, though, it's getting a little hot for these clothes. Here," Blaine grabbed criss-crossed his arms and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up over his head and throwing it behind him. "Do you want...do you want me to do it?" He asked as Kurt remained sitting up, frozen in place as he took in a half-naked Blaine in front of him for the second time that week. Kurt couldn't help but let his eyes flicker towards the happy trail starting at Blaine's belly button and disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. He mechanically nodded his head, and Blaine brought his hot hands to the hem of Kurt's shirt, his fingertips sneaking up slightly so he was tickling his cool skin. Smiling, he languidly stripped it from his boyfriend's body, guiding it over his stretched arms. They sat there, taking in the intimacy of their shared half-nakedness. Kurt blushed as he felt Blaine's eyes exploring his exposed skin, knowing that his wiry frame was nothing compared to Blaine's impeccable figure. Yes, he'd gained some muscle and definition from being a Cheerio, but it didn't do much to his naturally thin body; there was no way Blaine would like it-

"God, Kurt, do you have any idea of what your body does to me?" He gently pushed Kurt down so he was lying down on the couch with Blaine on all fours over him. It was the same position as that day in the gym, yet completely different. He wanted this-he wanted Blaine. "I just want to kiss every inch of your gorgeous skin; it's a shame everyone calls you Porcelain in a negative manner. They obviously haven't seen you like this, because porcelain has never seemed so beautiful." Kurt prayed that Blaine hadn't glanced down south yet, since he was already painfully hard and he was pretty sure that his skinny pants made it rather obvious. "Now, where was I? Okay, then there was that part where Rachel strutted towards you and started running her fingers down your front," Blaine let his fingertips glide over Kurt's chest at an impossibly slow pace; it was much sexier than the quick drag of her fingers from the base of his neck to his belly button. "Except I'm not going to do it exactly her way," he brought both of his hands to Kurt's sternum, and then separated them, tracing back up towards his shoulders and then back down to his chest like the arches in a heart. They came dangerously close to his nipples, and Kurt suddenly understood why Blaine reacted the way he did on Wednesday. His fingers were only centimeters away, but the touch sent a wave of excitement from his fingers to his toes. Blaine continued to trail his fingers down Kurt's body, the silence filled by their heavy breathing.

Eventually, Blaine made it down Kurt's hard stomach and to the top of his jeans. Kurt shivered in anticipation, knowing that Blaine would soon drag his gaze away from his eyes and look down at the growing bulge in his crotch.

"Now comes the part where I ask you if you're ready," Blaine said somewhat shakily, and Kurt nodded. "No, I want to hear it," he persisted, his hands pressing into his skin, and Kurt unintentionally moaned "yes" in response. All he wanted in that moment was for Blaine to justtouchhim. He wasn't even taken aback by the thought anymore. Heneededit.

The hands fell down to the pockets of his jeans; Kurt knew that he had to feel the strain of the material. He leaned down to pleasantly surprise Kurt with a sweet kiss, and while their lips were still attached, he cupped Kurt from the outside, causing him to gasp audibly against Blaine's lips. Groaning, Blaine captured Kurt's lower lip in his teeth for a split second and then let it go as Kurt squirmed beneath him at the sensation of his hand.

Blaine's hand moved, palming Kurt from the outside, sending jolts throughout his body. He let out a long sigh as Blaine squeezed him, and suddenly touching him through his clothing was not enough. Blaine seemed to realize that. The hand traveled up to the button of his jeans, and with a quick, desperate nod, he unbuttoned them, sliding the zipper down. This was at a pace that was a little too slow for Kurt, because fuck his cock was begging to be touched again after a few seconds of being neglected, and he grabbed the sides of his pants and tugged them down. What he forgot was that he was still wearing his Victoria's Secret thong from the game earlier. Blaine seemed to notice, as his eyes traveled down to stare and widened at their sight.

"Kurt...are thosegirl'sunderwear?!" He asked incredulously, and Kurt felt his face become engulfed in flames at the tone of the question.

"It-I didn't-I needed more, so-"

"Kurt, you could've just asked me, or Coach; there's plenty of this kind of stuff for men that's better...equipped; you could've just looked online for Christ's sake. Although, I must admit," his fingers skirted across the front of the material, and Kurt was pretty sure that he had died right then and there, "I think this is really, really,reallyhot."

Kurt practically whimpered at that, and Blaine gripped him hard through the flimsy lingerie in response. "Fuck, Kurt, it doesn't even fit you when you're like this!" He freed Kurt's legs of the jeans that he'd only been able to push down to mid-thigh, and slowly brought his attention back to Kurt's straining erection. His thumb traced its outline, nearly driving Kurt to insanity.

"Damn it, Blaine, touch me!" Kurt nearly barked, and Blaine stopped his fourth round of outlining.

"Christ," Blaine replied, not in anger at Kurt's impatience, but in lust. His fingers teased at the waistband of the thong, moving to his sides. He shimmied the article of clothing down, freeing his erection. Kurt practically hissed at the sensation, and then realized that he was completely bare in front of Blaine, who seemed to have just realized that as well. His eyes made their way up from Kurt's feet, up his shins, his knees, his thighs, until...

"Oh, fuck, Kurt, just...fuck,you're so beautiful," Blaine said breathlessly, and burrowed his face into the crook of Kurt's neck, quickly finding his sensitive spot again. "I know I'm supposed to say something romantic right now but I hardly even know what I'm saying or thinking," he gently kissed the mark that Kurt had worked so hard to disguise with cover-up, but that was the least of Kurt's concerns in that moment. He was focused on keeping his breathing normal as he watched Blaine's hand grasp at the inside of his thigh, massaging the tensed muscle as it leisurely made its way closer and closer to his cock. "Relax," he whispered tenderly.

"How am I supposed to relax when you're—oh!" He gasped as the hand finally closed around him. It was so much different than his slender, gentle fingers—Blaine's calloused ones were more broad and rough and absolutely perfect. It stayed immobile for the longest time as they looked at each other, silently reveling in the new field of pleasure they were exploring. Kurt's hips involuntarily twitched as Blaine traced his finger down his jawline, letting Blaine know that he was starting to lose it. Thankfully, the movement was understood, and the hand hesitantly slid up and down Kurt's hard cock.

"I've done this so many times to myself but I just—how does this feel?" Blaine asked as he stroked Kurt two, three, four times, steadily gaining a rhythm.

"It—ah—oh myGod, Blaine," Kurt stuttered as Blaine flicked his wrist. He was already slick with pre-come, and knew the end was already near based on the strange, hot coiling sensation in the pit of his stomach. Blaine's pace increased, his breath hitching every so often and muttering a few "oh my Gods" and "fucks" here and there. Eventually, Kurt could not take it anymore: his hips bucked up to meet Blaine's fist, and they moaned loudly in unison. Out of nowhere, just as Kurt was going to warn Blaine that he was about to come, Blaine stopped and removed his hand.

"What—no-" Kurt whined, not caring about how desperate he sounded.

"Shh, trust me, babe," Blaine soothed, and pressed his lips against Kurt's parted ones, kissing him slowly and deeply. "I said I was going to make you feel amazing, and I'm going to keep my promise." He kissed Kurt again, and then progressively moved his mouth down Kurt's jawline, his neck, his collarbone, covering the expanse of Kurt's naked chest. It was so different and new and almost as good as Blaine's hand on his dick. Key word:almost.

As Kurt quickly learned, both together were inexplicably inconceivable.

Their resonant moans echoed throughout the empty house as Blaine hungrily kissed, no,lickedKurt's pecs, pumping his hand up and down as Kurt fucked up into it. He could feel Blaine's legs rubbing against his thigh, no, his crotch, hishardcrotch rutting into him. Before he even knew it, brilliant white lights exploded behind his closed eyes and he was coming long and hard, gasping the only word he knew and the only word in the entire universe in that moment:Blaine. His hands softened their grip on Blaine's sinewy back, which was definitely scratched up from his fingernails. Eventually, he let them fall to the couch as he slowly opened his eyes. Nothing seemed to be in focus except Blaine's face, which was hovering above his with an awed look on his face. Kurt gave him a shy smile as his pulse finally began to regulate.

"Kurt..." other than that, Blaine seemed to be rendered speechless. "That," he began again after a few minutes of trying to fish out the perfect words from the ocean of idioms swirling in his mind, "was definitely the hottest thing I've ever witnessed and experienced. I can't believe I got to see that...todothat with you." His hair was a poofy mess; Kurt followed a bead of sweat trailing down from his forehead, down the side of his face, his cheekbones... "Do you want to, um, clean up?"

"Please," it took Kurt a second to find his voice. His head fell back into the couch in exhaustion. He felt Blaine leave his side, and then returned with a box of tissues. As quickly as he had reappeared, Blaine retreated away, heading towards the stairs. "Where are you going?"

"Um," Blaine started in an embarrassed tone, "I need to...I need to clean myself up as well."

"Did I—did I get anything on you?" Kurt was suddenly very self-conscious of his lack of clothing: he bent his leg to conceal his softening dick.

"No. You kind of sent me over," Blaine laughed uncomfortably, and Kurt almost choked on air. He swiftly disappeared from sight, and Kurt commenced his clean-up, trying to wrap his head around what had just taken place.

A few minutes later, Kurt emerged from the bathroom after washing himself as best he could, and splashing his still-flushed face with cold water. He found Blaine in a new pair of sweatpants under half of a fleece blanket. The words "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" were displayed on the gargantuan screen.

"We're really going to watchHarry Potterafterthat?" The words slipped from Kurt's lips before he could stop himself, and Blaine laughed.

"Come here," he urged playfully, and Kurt obliged, a grin growing on his face. He sat down next to Blaine, who immediately attacked his sides and started tickling him into oblivion.

"No—I am—very ticklish—no fair!" Kurt squealed between his laughter, and Blaine silenced him with a quick peck on the lips.

"I've been planning this all week long, let's just watch," he said as he pressed play.

"What, the movie or the hand-"

"Oh, shut up," Blaine muttered, but Kurt could see even in the dark that his lips were curled back into a giddy smile.