“How was your date?” She asked in a sing-song voice. She even batted her eyelashes at Blaine in an attempt to make him answer.

Blaine shook his head and carried on scribbling a plan for his essay that he’d been writing before Sugar had barged in. He wrote for a few seconds to deliberately keep her in suspense.

“It was good.” That was a total lie. ‘The best night of my life’ was a better description of how Blaine really felt about the previous night with Kurt. He could barely get his soul mate out of his mind and the kiss they’d shared just a few metres away and down a few flights of stairs was at the forefront of Blaine’s memory.

“That’s it?” Sugar sat up straighter, still lying on the bed but pushing her torso into the air. “Blainey you have to give me something! I was so excited last night when you came to me to make sure you looked ok. I told everyone I was with you were on a date: how will it look on me that all I have to tell them is ‘it was good’?”

“Oh Sugar, you didn’t.” Blaine twisted around in his chair, hooking an arm over the back to keep his balance. He didn’t want to be pestered by girls left right and centre because Sugar had told them that he was dating. His relationship with Kurt would be hard enough to keep from the press but persistent college girls who were far too over excited about gossip would be hard to control.

“Of course I did!” Sugar stood and walked over to where Blaine sat. She crouched down, perching her bum on a large pile of books, folders and roughly folded clothes. She squeezed Blaine’s arm. “We all want you to have fun while you wait for Kurt. And I know this guy isn’t your Kurt but he’ll have to be good enough for you while you wait to meet Kurt.”

Blaine barely supressed a flinch when she spoke about his date being a person to spend time with while he waited for Kurt. His mind immediately jumped back to Kurt, specifically the kiss, but a small part felt bad that he was hiding Kurt from his friends. Friends who had spent weeks trying to convince Blaine that Kurt Hummel was Blaine’s Kurt.

Blaine could laugh about that now. He had been inexplicably drawn to the designer, wanting to know all about him, they’d grown up a mere few hours away in the same state and he’d been convinced the Kurt Hummel hadn’t been his soul mate? His flawed argument disproved, all the facts lined up in Blaine’s mind and led to the conclusion that he’d been in a serious place of denial. Not wanting to believe that his soul mate was right in front of him.

“Sugar?” Nick’s voice came from the open door. “Do you mind if I talk to Blaine for a moment?”He was holding his cell phone in front of him and gave a small smile to his friends, although the expression in his eyes was serious.

Sugar jumped up. “My two favourite gays want to talk? Say no more! I’ll be next door should you need me.”

Sugar pressed a kiss to Blaine’s cheek and then to Nick’s as she passed him. Blaine finished his sentence and then capped his pen. He turned to smile at Nick, who walked over and placed his cell right on front of Blaine.

He pointed to the touch screen. “Apparently Kurt Hummel was spotted out and about last night.” Blaine tapped the screen to see the article and Nick carried on talking while he skimmed the words. “Spotted out in the middle of town with someone who had their hair gelled and wearing a coat that I know I bought with him last winter.”

Blaine stopped scrolling down the article as he froze with Nick’s words. His friend’s tone was teasing but there was a real question behind the banter. He blinked and then continued to move the article around until he found the very picture Nick had seen.

Kurt was the focus, standing in the middle of the dark and grainy picture in his pea coat and silver scarf wrapped around his neck. He was holding the crepe up and the photo had captured a moment when he was tearing a piece away from the main crepe. Standing just to the side of Kurt was Blaine: only his back, but Blaine could clearly see his black coat and gel-controlled hair in the photo. It was obviously taken with a camera phone and sent to the tabloid but nowhere in the article did it question who Kurt’s companion was.

“So?” Blaine tried to make his voice nonchalant. He only hoped he managed it: Nick knew him too well. “I bet lots of people have my coat.”

“People who have your coat, your gelled hair look and were out on a date last night with Kurt Hummel?” Nick took his cell out of Blaine’s hands. “I know you were on a date last night: Sugar told Jennifer and together they told everyone who had ears and half a brain.”

Blaine shrugged and Nick said: “You never did say if that girl from hummels called you back.”

Answering the unasked question, Blaine lied: “She did but it was nothing. I told you that Kurt Hummel wasn’t my soul mate.” A stab went through his stomach. He hated lying to his friends. “It’s just a coincidence.”

Nick left after that and sent a suspicious look in Blaine’s direction. Blaine replied with a bright smile and turned back to his plan. But seeing that photo from last night had turned his thoughts away from his degree and to Kurt again. Not that Kurt had been far from his mind since they’d met on Wednesday, let alone since the name had developed on Blaine’s palm.

He wanted to plan a date. Kurt had planned last night’s date and it had been perfect. Now Blaine wanted to do something. He knew what he’d like how could he manage it when he was dating a celebrity who was trying to keep his new relationship with his soul mate under the radar of the press?

He shrugged and picked up his pen once more. He’d work it out.

--

Can you take Tuesday afternoon off?

Kurt’s phone rang in the middle of the meeting but being the boss he could check the text without getting a disapproving look. After all, he rationalised to himself when other eyes in the room turned to look at the phone, he could be answering an email about some other important work.

The presentation he was listening to was about the website and the current demographics the site attracted. Blaine’s text was far more interesting than numbers being shoved in his face by people in ill-fitting suits.

Tina was sitting next to him and she watched him answer the text with a smile on his face, knowing simply from the smile who had contacted her old friend.

This Tuesday? Of course.

Kurt placed the phone back on the table. He was smiling. The presentation was detailing a drop in the interest of women 25-35 which wasn’t the best of results but Kurt’s soul mate had just invited him out of another date. He wasn’t going to stop smiling for a while.

--

On the following Tuesday, Blaine once again made the journey on the subway to hummels but this time he walked right in through the front door and smiled at everyone who looked his way on the subway and in the store. He aimed straight for the double doors and ignored the funny looks he gained from the employees as he walked right round the tills and pushed open one of the double doors to get to the back of the store.

He was still smiling to himself, and everyone around him, as he wandered through the back of the store. A few people were stitching on mannequins and a couple more people were tapping away at their computers. Blaine didn’t spare a second glance once he’d passed them, even though the receptionist who was always on the phone sent him a confused look.

Kurt’s door was firmly closed and Blaine knocked a few times, waiting for an invitation inside. He stepped closer to the door, one ear almost pressed against it, to make sure he didn’t miss Kurt speaking.

“Come in!” The voice was muffled but perfectly audible. Blaine took a moment to straighten the bowtie and then pushed the door open.

Kurt was bent low over his drawing desk, one hand pressing on the sketchbook and one hand gripping a pencil. He looked up from his drawing only when Blaine closed the door. The look on his face could only be described as elation.

Blaine walked swiftly forwards, rested a hand on the desk and bent over it to kiss Kurt hello. Even the few seconds they kissed, it was perfect. That’s how Blaine had taken to describing how kissing Kurt felt. It was clich� and he knew that if anyone knew how he thought about it, he’d be teased none stop for hours.

But when Blaine drew away a little and opened his eyes, his breath caught. Kurt’s eyes were closed and his lips were poking out a little, his cheeks a little flushed and the blush showing up against his porcelain skin. The midday sunlight streamed the windows behind Kurt and it highlighted the lighter brown in his hair.

G-d he was beautiful.

Finally Kurt’s eyes opened and he smiled properly at Blaine.

“I could get used to that greeting.” He let go of both the sketchbook and the pencil and leant back in his chair. Blaine took the time to tug one of the extra rolling chairs towards the desk but he sat right on the edge to stay as close as he could to his soul mate. He slipped the rucksack off his back and placed it carefully on the floor by his feet.

Finally tearing his eyes away from Kurt, Blaine looked at the sketches on his desk. They were wonderful; just of the body and the clothes in varying shades of grey. The one Kurt had been working on when Blaine had walked it was a sketch of someone in dark pants, a plain polo shirt and a bowtie. He looked at the drawing, focusing on the bowtie and unconsciously lifted his hand to touch the blue bowtie around his neck.

“Do you like them?” Kurt sounded nervous as he asked. Blaine nodded and pulled the sketchbook closer.

The drawings on the three pages before were similar to the latest one, with different colours and styles on the shirts. All featured bowties. One was coloured, in shades of grey, exactly like the one he had worn for their coffee date.

Blaine frowned at that and pointed to the bowtie. “This looks like mine.” He said and looked up. Kurt’s eyes were earnest, like he was waited on bated breath to hear what Blaine had to say about the prototype designs.

“It is. At least, like yours.”

Blaine turned another page and was hit with drawings like the ones he’d worn on their first date: cardigans drawn and labelled to be with bright colours, striped sweatshirts and chinos.

“Are these my clothes?” He asked, not looking away from the sketchbook. He turned another page and saw an outfit he filed away for a later date. He didn’t have a thick jumper in white but he did have polo shirts that he could wear with the collars pulled out of the jumpers that he did have. Maybe he could get Kurt to root through his wardrobe and give him ideas.

“Those ones are.” Kurt’s voice was unexpected and broke through Blaine’s musings. He continued to flick through the sketchbook and smiled at clothes in the same style that he would wear. Three more outfits were new but using clothes that he already owned and he filed all of them away as good ideas.

“Those ones,” Kurt commentated, Blaine finally reaching the front of the sketchbook and looking at very rough drawings of striped shirts and bowties, “I drew before I met you.”

Blaine’s eyes shot up and he stared with his eyes wide open at Kurt, who nodded. “You drew these before you met me?” Kurt nodded again. “But they are just like what I wear.”

Almost lovingly, Kurt took back the sketchbook and closed it, slipping it into the open drawer below the desk.

“I just had ideas and drew them. I didn’t even realise I was drawing what you wear until I met you and saw practically one of my drawings off the page.” Kurt gestured to what Blaine was wearing today, dark jeans rolled up at the ankle, a checked shirt, a big red jumper and the blue bowtie. “I’m pretty sure what you’re wearing today is drawn in that book, at least in part.”

Kurt stood and walked around the desk, perching on the edge. Blaine slid back a little further on the chair so that he could look up Kurt easier.

“I guess we really are soul mates.” Kurt smiled brightly and pressed his lips to Blaine’s again.

--

His plan for the day had been to go to the park, take their time with eating the picnic and then stroll lovingly through the park until they were too tired or too cold to continue, at which point they would journey to Kurt’s apartment and spend the evening together there.

It had worked, in theory. Blaine knew of a private place in Central Park where a bank of trees hid a smaller almost enclosed area from the large green on the other side. They had walked there under the watchful eye of Kurt’s driver and then, on Kurt’s insistence, he’d left them to their date. Blaine had whipped out a blanket, which had been stuffed into the bag as a last minute addition, and laid it on the grass in preparation of their picnic: ultimately sitting on the blanket, talking continually and eating Blaine’s cooking for nearly three hours.

During that time, Blaine had thanked his mother and grandmother a thousand times over that he’d learnt their cheesecake recipe. Once they’d eaten their share of the exotic-type salads (pomegranate seeds worked wonders in Blaine’s opinion) and the chicken marinated in honey, Blaine had pulled the box of cheesecake out of his rucksack.

To say Kurt had been pleased was an understatement. He’d taken one bite and declared it heavenly. Blaine had smiled widely and his chest had puffed out almost unconsciously. The desert that Blaine loved baking whenever he could just so happened to be his soul mate’s favourite type of desert. What with Kurt admitting earlier that he’d been drawing Blaine’s clothes and now this; Blaine was enjoying being this perfect man’s soul mate.

However, the cheesecake eating had been interrupted by an untimely reminder of Kurt’s fame.

They had been so absorbed in their food and each other’s company for the past half hour, neither had noticed the increase in people peering through the trees or also setting up shop in the small area of the large park. They had noticed the increase in noise but had dismissed it. They were taking advantage of the warming weather and soft sunlight; why couldn’t others?

It wasn’t until the flash of a camera bulb taking a picture of the two that they even looked around. Kurt was wearing his sunglasses but it didn’t help. His face had jerked away from the small bite of cheesecake he had left on his fork and saw a crowd of people. They were standing in a circle around the couple, whispering to each other and pointing in their direction. A few people had camera phones pointed their way and the flash had come from a tourist’s camera.

“Oh my g-d.” He’d said, his voice filled with anger and annoyance. “I thought the people paid to take pictures were like vultures but the ordinary public are just as bad.”

Blaine quickly shoved the Tupperware boxes into his rucksack and gently pried the paper plate out of Kurt’s hand. He pushed the last few bites of the cheesecake into the box with the spare slices and carefully closed the lid. Blaine was devastated. He really hadn’t wanted to attract attention and he’d wagered that a less travelled area of Central Park in the middle of March would be safe from curious fans.

He and Kurt rose at the same time and Blaine finished packing up the picnic by haphazardly stuffing the blanket over the food. He went to press a hand to Kurt’s back but stopped himself at the last minute. He knew that he needed to give Kurt some form of comfort; he just didn’t know how to do so without increasing the interest of the public armed with cameras. Kurt’s date had been ruined too after all. He settled for resting his hand on Kurt’s upper arm but a second flash of a camera sent Kurt into another rage of muttering under his breath.

“Don’t they have anything better to do than stand around like we’re animals in the zoo?” He licked his lips. “There’s a zoo in this very park but they choose to watch us instead.”

They didn’t speak again until they’d left the park and Blaine dropped his hand from Kurt’s arm. Now they walked at a slower pace with the back of their hands brushing together as their arms swung. Blaine kept shooting glances towards Kurt, who was frowning while staring at the ground. The occasional flash of a camera alerted them to the continual presence of nosy public. Every time a picture was taken, Blaine had to resist the urge to turn around and reacting. If Kurt was handling it by ignoring everything around them then Blaine had to do the same.

“I’m not sure what your plans were for the rest of the day,” Kurt said a few moments later when the average number of pictures taken per minute had dropped considerably, “but I can call Edward, have him pick us up and then we can go somewhere else. Get us away from the people who have nothing better to do than act like inane, brainless-”

Blaine put a hand on Kurt’s arm, stopping his rant mid-sentence. “We can go back to yours, if you like.” Blaine said before checking the time on his watch. “We can always finish the cheesecake or cook some food together, if you’d like that.”

A smile appeared on Kurt’s face at the suggestion and the dead weight that had settled in Blaine’s chest lifted a little. He’d planned this date to include a lengthy stay in the park and he couldn’t help thinking it was entirely his fault that they’d been spotted. Seeing Kurt smile with even an ounce of the same happiness he’d had before they were interrupted made Blaine feel like this was the lowest point they could be at and the only way to continue on was to go up.

--

Kurt took charge in his kitchen as soon as they’d walked through the apartment door. He’d hug his coat in a cupboard in the porch area and then bustled away, leaving Blaine to put his coat and bag alongside Kurt’s and follow. He stared at the coats, side by side in the cupboard, and felt far more at home in a place he’d never been to before than he did in his dorms.

“How do you feel about a beef bourguignon?” Kurt called from the kitchen as Blaine made his way inside, glancing around the apartment as he did so. “I don’t have any bacon though.”

The apartment was as tasteful and fashionable as Blaine had expected. From where he walked before he hit the kitchen, he was the living room with its white sponge painted walls and red skirting boards, dark wooden floor and long red drapes covering the windows. While there were the customary couches, arm chairs and wall-mounted television in the living room, Blaine saw numerous photographs of people who could only be Kurt’s family and friends dotted around the room. A magazine lay open on the coffee table and a pile of them were stacked on a small side table near the door to the living room.

“Blaine?”

Blaine followed Kurt’s voice into the kitchen and saw the other man standing by the open fridge. He kept one hand on the door but was looking over his shoulder to find Blaine, the muscles in his shoulders clear under his shirt and the tendons in his neck stretching in such a way that Blaine’s eyes followed the line of them to the collar of Kurt’s shirt before he even responded.

“We could always go for something lighter.” Blaine offered as an alternative. The beef would probably be frozen and half-defrosted-before-cooking beef bourguignon wasn’t the greatest meal, even if it was cooked by a master in the kitchen, as Kurt claimed to be.

“Like what?”

Blaine walked even closer and pressed himself to Kurt’s back, sliding one hand around his waist to hold Kurt’s body in place and hooking his chin over Kurt’s shoulder under the pretence of looking in the fridge for ingredients. Kurt leaned back into Blaine’s embrace and turned his head to watch.

“We can always make a carbonara.” Blaine pointed to where an open packet of smoked salmon was placed in prime position on a shelf. “We can make it with smoked salmon instead of the bacon.”

Kurt laughed and Blaine felt the laughter through where his chest was pressed to Kurt’s back. He turned to look at Kurt, catching his gaze easily and comfortably. Blaine could stare into Kurt’s eyes for hours, he’d discovered today. They were forever changing: blue, green, grey, mixtures of all three. So expressive, so beautiful.

“Ok, Mr Anderson.” Kurt said and pecked Blaine on the lips as he spoke. “Wow me with your smoked salmon spaghetti carbonara.”

It took a moment for the boys to step out of each other’s arms but eventually they did, Kurt going to perch on the tall stool by his granite counter and Blaine diving into the fridge to pull out all the necessary ingredients. He put the pasta onto boil, smiling to himself as he felt Kurt’s eyes follow him around the kitchen.

Being unfamiliar in Kurt’s kitchen, Blaine had to open many different cupboards and drawers until he found the correct utensil. Kurt would point out the correct spot for whatever Blaine was looking for and the thank you that Blaine gave each time was a quick peck on the lips.

“Do you mind if I put some music on?” Blaine asked, an idea striking him as he stirred the bubbling spaghetti. He kept one hand moving the wooden spoon in circles in the pot but turned around to look at Kurt as he asked, sending a blinding smile Kurt’s way. “I can wow you with my cooking and singing, if you’d like.”

Kurt waved a hand as if to say ‘sing away’. He pointed towards the spaghetti pot and said: “I can stir while you get your background music set up if you’d like, Blaine Warbler.”

Blaine Warbler? Blaine couldn’t help chuckling at the fond nickname and briefly imagined a seventeen year old Kurt teasing a sixteen year old Blaine with that nickname while they sat in a restaurant or a coffee shop discussing their competing show choirs.

“I’ve got an iPod dock in the lounge that’ll play in the kitchen.” Kurt called out as Blaine bustled out of the kitchen to take his iPod out of his bag and plug it in. The Blaine Warbler tease had sparked a memory and while the sentiment would be a little out of place, he couldn’t resist. He quickly scrolled down to the chosen song, karaoke version still loaded onto the device from years past, and pressed play.

The last time he’d sung this song it had been with the Warblers, a cappella and with over a dozen teenage boys singing backup. This was still Blaine’s song though.

He assumed the same position they’d been in by the open door of the fridge, cupping both sides of Kurt’s hips in his hands this time and pressing his lips to the join of Kurt’s jaw and neck before he sang the opening line.

“You think I’m pretty without any make up on,” Kurt immediately laughed, throwing his head back to rest it comfortably on Blaine’s shoulder as the words of the song finally identified the tune that had been so familiar.

“You think I’m funny when I tell the punch line wrong.” Blaine stepped back from the stove and pulled Kurt with him, making the other man drop the wooden spoon in the nearly cooked spaghetti.

“I know you get me, so I let my walls come down.” With the third line, Blaine quickly spun Kurt around in his arms until they faced each other. The brief pause in the singing gave enough time for Kurt to cup Blaine’s face in his hands and kiss him.

As he sung, Blaine walked Kurt back to the seat, returning each of the love-struck looks Kurt sent his way. He also had to strain the spaghetti and stir in the creamy sauce, which wasn’t in the original choreography but Blaine added in more looks over his shoulder towards Kurt as he cooked and sung simultaneously.

When the music finished, Kurt clapped appreciatively but he fixed Blaine with a raised eyebrow and amused look. “Neither of us are teenagers.” He pointed out.

Blaine shrugged and spoke to Kurt while he was adding the smoked salmon to finish off the meal. “So? The sentiment stands.” He turned around, two bowls of spaghetti carbonara in his hands and a small smile on his face. “And Katy Perry is amazing.”

--

They’d eaten the spaghetti sat side by side at the dining room table, talking about the music that they both liked and musicals that they both wanted to see with each other. Kurt had been admittedly impressed by the carbonara which had made Blaine’s heart swell with joy. The fiasco of being caught by the public out in the park seemed to have been banished from Kurt’s mind and the joyous smile that had been ever present during their time in the park was back. Blaine was also extremely glad that he’d impressed Kurt with his cooking: the old saying that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was a regularly repeated phrase in Blaine’s extended family.

Kurt had insisted they eat the remaining pieces of the cheesecake in the living room, once again sitting side by side on the large leather couch that took up most of the room. Once they’d finished their deserts, Kurt had turned on the TV, choosing a random episode of Project Runway that was being shown at the time but the TV was on mute and neither Blaine nor Kurt was watching the episode.

They’d migrated from sitting snuggled up next to each other to Kurt straddling Blaine’s lap, fingers breaking apart the gel in Blaine’s hair and he cupped the back of his head to hold their lips together. They were kissing fiercely, mouths wide moving against each other in sync , tongues deep in each other’s mouths. Blaine had both hands on Kurt’s ass, alternating between rubbing and squeezing his firm, round ass through the rough material on his pants.

They were moving their hips, Blaine thrusting up to meet Kurt’s downward thrusts, never quite perfectly timed and continually sending sparks of pleasure through his body, all aimed at his crotch. The grip Kurt had on the back of his head tightened and a moan was ripped from Blaine’s through at the sharp pain that morphed into pleasure instantly.

He let go of one of Kurt’s ass cheeks and hooked his fingers into the belt hook at the front of Kurt’s pants. He pulled and brought their hips together at the same time. Even through the thick denim, he could feel the outline of Kurt’s hard cock pressed against his own and he couldn’t resist and extra thrust while he held Kurt’s hips to his own.

“Oh g-d, Blaine,” Kurt’s voice was lower than usual and hearing the lower register sent a shiver down Blaine’s spine. Their kiss broken, Blaine let go of Kurt’s other cheek and cupped the back of his head, bringing Kurt’s neck closer to his seeking lips. He licked his way from collarbone to jaw , Kurt’s tipping his head in the opposite direction to allow far more access.

The intense heat from Kurt’s body, the feel of his moving on Blaine’s lap, all of it was driving Blaine to lose any sense of control. He wanted more: wanted to keep his lips pressed against Kurt’s neck, tasting the light sheen of sweat mixed with sheer arousal; wanted to feel Kurt’s cock pressed against his own without any barrier of clothing.

Blaine groaned against the soft skin of Kurt’s neck when the other man took control and rolled his hips down, a perfectly angular thrust that put enough pressure of Blaine’s cock to drive him wild. He let go of Kurt’s belt hook and slid his hand down the back of his pants, cupping soft and overheated flesh and feeling sparks from wherever his fingertips touched Kurt’s skin. He drove his hand as far down the back of Kurt’s tight jeans as he possible could, having greatly appreciated the pants before but cursing their restrictive movements now.

Kurt tightened his grip in Blaine’s messed curls again and wrapped his other arm around Blaine’s back, gripping the back of his shoulder and forcing them even closer. Blaine was pressing open mouth kisses to Kurt’s neck, switching from licking to kissing every so often, but couldn’t control the groan as he felt Kurt’s tugging at his hair.

“You ok?” Kurt asked, his voice low, filled with lust and whispered in Blaine’s ear. The shivers that shot down Blaine’s spine could have been from the spike of arousal or the proximity.

Blaine nodded, pupils wide, lips flushed, glistening and inviting. They leant forward simultaneously, kissing feverishly. The room was filled with the sounds of their kisses, their heavy breathing and the soft squeaks of the leather couch as it protested their unstoppable thrusts.

Kurt tore his mouth away as if starving for air but held his lips against Blaine’s, open and panting for breath. “I can’t come in these pants Blaine.” He said, voice still low and laced with arousal.

Blaine spoke without thinking, completely surrounded by Kurt and never more comfortable speaking what he thought: “So let me blow you.”

They opened their eyes and started at each other, lust filled deep blue meeting lust filled golden brown. Blaine paused for a moment, not letting go of his grip on Kurt’s neck or his ass, as what he’d just said broke through the roaring in his ears. The idea was a good one.

“G-d Kurt, please let me blow you.” He insisted. He leant forward and caught Kurt’s lips again, coaxing them open and massaging Kurt’s tongue with his own. He felt Kurt’s moan start in his chest, not a hair’s breadth apart from his own, but didn’t stop kissing Kurt, not wanting their lips to part even for a second.

After a long kiss, Blaine felt Kurt nod and it was like that was a signal to move. Blaine took his hand out of the pack of Kurt’s pants and undid the button with one hand while they continued with their fiery kiss. Kurt’s hands were scrambling at the bottom of Blaine’s shirt, Blaine not having noticed when they’d left his hair, and every skim of Kurt’s long, thin fingers across the heated skin of his waist sent sparks to his cock.

Kurt’s pants were unzipped and Blaine’s top had landed somewhere behind the couch before they broke their kiss and moved. Kurt slid to one side, settling on the couch as he tugged his jeans over his hips. Blaine sunk to the floor, on his knees in between Kurt’s spread legs. Not breaking eye contact for a second, he leant forwards to take over pulling those tight and inviting pants down Kurt’s long legs. Kurt tugged his shirt over his head and laid it on the couch, chest heaving and loud breaths filling the room.

From his position between Kurt’s knees, the sight that greeted Blaine was indescribable. He couldn’t resist running his hand up Kurt’s pale and firm chest, flicking his thumb over one of his nipples until it peaked. He tugged the waistband of the pants over Kurt’s knees but the sight of Kurt palming himself over his boxer-briefs stopped his movements. Blaine licked his lips and looked up at Kurt from under his long lashes.

Even with pants around Kurt’s knees, Blaine leant forward and pressed his mouth against the silhouette of Kurt’s cock, straining against the fabric. Kurt moaned and took his hand away, letting it rest on the nape of Blaine’s neck, not applying any pressure but a constant reminder of whose cock Blaine’s mouth was desperate for. He moved his mouth up and down the shaft, tongue pressed against the fabric, and his eyes never dropping Kurt’s gaze. Blindly he pushed Kurt’s pants down as far as they’d go and Kurt kicked the bundle of denim off one foot to free his legs.

Blaine was massaging Kurt’s strong thighs as he mouthed over Kurt’s cock, Kurt’s legs spreading wider apart to fit perfectly around Blaine’s broad shoulders. Locking gazes once more, Blaine carefully lifted the waistband of Kurt’s underwear over his cock, tucking it under his balls as his cock sprang free and bobbed against his taut stomach. Kurt lifted his hips to allow Blaine to pull his underwear off completely, joining his pants bunched up on one leg. As he drew Kurt’s underwear off his legs, Blaine stuck his tongue out and licked, tasting pre-come and seeing the muscles of Kurt’s thighs jump.

Kurt moaned and the pressure on the back of Blaine’s neck increased ever so slightly. With the hand not still tangled in Kurt’s underwear, Blaine took hold of the base of Kurt’s cock and held it straight up. He leaned forward and licked at Kurt’s balls, testing the feel on his tongue before running his tongue up the underside of Kurt’s cock until he could wrap his lips around the tip.

Blaine lowered his head, taking more of Kurt inside his mouth and never once breaking eye contact. His soul mate’s cock stretched his mouth, tongue pressed against the vein running down the underside, the feel so hot, so smooth. With the feel of Kurt’s cock heavy in his mouth and the sight of his blue eyes, so dark and so beautiful, Blaine could barely think straight. He untangled his hand from Kurt’s clothes and pressed the heel against his own cock, straining against the constricting pants he still wore.

He bobbed his head, hollowing his cheeks every time he rose, never dropping eye contact and totally losing himself in Kurt’s gaze. He kept one hand wrapped around the base of Kurt’s cock and alternated between rubbing Kurt’s inner thigh, gently rolling his balls and pressing down on his own cock with his free hand.

Kurt’s hand migrated from the back of his neck until it was tightly gripping the curls pulled free from the gel, the pull of his hair making Blaine moan around Kurt’s shaft, an effect that resulted in gasps and moans from Kurt.

“Oh g-d Blaine,” Kurt said, voice even huskier as Blaine took more and more into his mouth. He gagged a little the first time he tried to swallow around him and lifted his head slightly. A brush on knuckles against his cheekbone made Blaine look up at Kurt, having dropped his gaze momentarily. Even through the arousal, Kurt’s blue eyes were shining.

This time he held Kurt’s gaze as he bobbed his head once, twice, swallowing each time he moved down and hollowing his cheeks as he rose. Kurt’s thighs shook and the hand twisted in his hair tightened, telling Blaine without words what he needed to know.

“Oh g-d, g-d, Blaine.” Kurt threw his head back against the top of the couch as Blaine dipped his head one more time and swallowed. Kurt’s hips lifted to force his cock even deeper into Blaine’s mouth as hot spunk filled Blaine’s mouth. He swallowed as much as he could, small streaks still leaking out from the corners of his mouth.

Blaine leant back, sitting on his haunches with the heel of his hand once again pressed against his cock. He was achingly hard and the sight of Kurt basking momentarily in his afterglow only increased his arousal. He used one finger to wipe the trails of come from around his mouth and sucked it off, lips swollen from the blow-job circling his finger in a pale imitation of what had taken place only moments ago.

Kurt opened his eyes and smiled weakly at Blaine before leaning down and smashing their lips together, prising Blaine’s open and hungrily kissing. Blaine moaned, swung his arms up and around Kurt’s neck and held on for what seemed like dear life. The kiss itself did nothing but heighten just how turned on he was and he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer, the blow-job he’d given Kurt almost making him come in his pants.

Kurt slowly sat back against the couch, drawing Blaine off his knees and up onto the couch to straddle his legs by never breaking the kiss. Now he cupped Blaine’s firm ass, slapping one cheek and unbuttoning the pants with his other hand. The immediate release of pressure made Blaine gasp into the kiss but it morphed into a moan when Kurt expertly unzipped his jeans and took Blaine out of his underwear. He squeezed the hot hard flesh and began moving his hand, dry friction just too much but exactly what Blaine needed.

It didn’t take long. Blaine was strung out and the whole scenario was heightened by the simple fact that this was Kurt. After only a few minutes, after Kurt had licked a broad stripe down the middle of his palm and returned his attention to Blaine’s cock, Blaine was panting against Kurt’s lips, gasping Kurt’s name between breaths.

Kurt’s hand twisted under the head of his cock and Blaine tipped over the edge. He came with a cry, tore his lips away from Kurt’s, white streams spilling onto Kurt’s stomach. He panted, resting his forehead against Kurt as his soul mate jerked his hand a few more times, squeezing out the last drops of Blaine’s come.

The silence was filled with heavy breathing again and they opened their eyes briefly before Kurt leant forward to press his lips to Blaine’s in a sweet kiss that suited the afterglow. Then he fell back against the couch and once again rested his head on the back of the large cushion they were sat on.

Blaine felt Kurt’s chuckle before he heard it, his bare chest moving and making Blaine, who had collapsed against him, move too. He lifted his head and watched Kurt stop laughing, wipe his sweaty hair off his forehead and then finally look at Blaine.

Blaine shrugged and asked what with his eyes.

Kurt gestured to the couch and said: “We shouldn’t have done this on the leather.”

--

Blaine had stood first, stumbling a bit on shaky legs before helping Kurt stand up. They laughed as the sound of Kurt unsticking from the leather couch filled the room, completely unsexy after the sex they’d just had. Kurt struggled to gain his balance from the pants still stuck around one ankle and together they pulled the tight jeans off Kurt’s leg and stripped Blaine of the pants they hadn’t bothered to remove at all.

Kurt, now completely naked, was moving around the room and scooping up their clothes, hanging them over the arm that was also holding his boots. Blaine picked his pants and underwear off the floor where he’d just left them and followed Kurt further in the apartment, finally taking the time to look at his soul mate’s naked body.

Kurt was flawless, all lines and toned muscles. His back and shoulders were strong, his ass round and firm and his legs long. Kurt turned around abruptly and Blaine’s eyes flicked from where they’d been staring at his ass while he walked to looking at Kurt properly.

He had a knowing smile on his face but didn’t comment. Instead he jerked his head to the closed door behind him as asked: “You are staying tonight, right?”

The previous night’s romanticism was out the window. Blaine nodded emphatically and Kurt beamed. “The bathroom’s through here, if you wanted a shower. I can have one after you.”

Blaine followed Kurt into his bedroom and looked around, dropping his clothes onto a large wicker chair close to the door. This room was also painted in white but the skirting boards were dark blue that matched the soft carpet on the floor. A large king sized bed took up a lot of the space, shelves covered the whole of one wall and were filled with books and pictures and trinkets from Kurt’s past. One door was firmly shut – Blaine guessed that was the closet – and the other was half open, which led to the bathroom.

Kurt came out of the bathroom wearing a light blue, short sleeved robe and Blaine wanted to tear it from his body, not wanting to lose the sight of Kurt’s naked body or have barrier between him and that soft skin. Then he mentally shook his head to clear his thoughts, gave Kurt a quick kiss and walked into the bathroom to shower.

The bathroom was large and contained a double shower with sliding glass doors. Blaine stood still for a moment to imagine the shower sex that he and Kurt could have in the spacious shower. Then he slipped inside, turned to shower on and was blown away by the pressure. He could stand under this shower for hours, water beating onto his back and warm enough to lull him into comfort. He could have taken a long shower, had it not been for the beautiful boy in the next room waiting for him.

Blaine borrowed the shower gel that was resting on the floor of the shower as opposed to the basket stuck to the wall at hand height. He had to use Kurt’s shampoo though, washing as much gel out of his hair as he could. A large part of him cursed that he didn’t think to pack extra gel in his rucksack: he didn’t want Kurt seeing his hair wild and untamed the following morning. But he’d rather wash the gel out now as he’d slept with his hair gelled before; the next morning hadn’t been a pretty sight.

Stepping out the shower, Blaine roughly towel dried his hair, ran his hands through it to tame it again and then wrapped the fluffy towel around his waist.

“All yours.” He said when he stepped back into the bedroom. Kurt had been busy. He’d closed to curtains, gotten them both a glass of water for the night, and had laid out fresh underwear, pyjama pants and an unwrapped toothbrush for Blaine.

Blaine dressed while the water started again and used the towel to dry his curls as much as possible, brushing his hair flat every so often. He didn’t want to have an afro of wet curly hair when Kurt left the bathroom.

Once Kurt had returned to the main bedroom, Blaine slipped away to clean his teeth and then hopped into the bed on what he hoped wasn’t Kurt’s side. Kurt didn’t say anything about the side he’d chosen when he peeled the covers away and got in himself. The main light was off and Kurt leant over to turn off the side table lamp he’s switched on to stop him from hurting himself in the dark room.

They gravitated towards each other without thinking about it. Blaine rested his head on a soft pillow and opened his arms. Kurt twisted under the covers until his back lay against Blaine’s bare chest and his head was half resting on the pillow and half on Blaine’s outstretched arm.

“Goodnight,” he heard Kurt mutter and felt him press a kiss to his arm.

Blaine followed suit but kissed Kurt goodnight on the side of his temple. They closed their eyes and fell into sleep, more comfortable sleeping in each other’s arms than they had even been while sleeping alone.