Blaine's hands slid up and down Kurt's torso under his (no longer) finely-pressed shirt, fingers raking possessively along all the contours of his lean muscles, sending ripples of static through Kurt's body. Kurt's tongue slid along the other man's lower lip asking for entrance, and was graciously invited in with a deep rumble from Blaine's throat. Pale, graceful hands flew up and entangled forcefully with dark, luscious curls when Blaine's knee slipped between his legs and pushed them apart gently so Blaine could settle into Kurt's embrace more thoroughly.

The beach was still slow, but the sound of a jogger passing with a light snicker brought Kurt tumbling back to reality,

"Stop."

It was a ghost of a plea. Hollow, senseless words, ones Kurt was not sure he'd actually managed to push out, but in an instant, the heat of Blaine's body was gone and the man was once again lying next to him in the sand.

Kurt felt embarrassed and conflicted, yet his body ached for contact once more. He pushed his eyes shut, ignoring the voice in his head telling him he couldn't do this, telling him he could, telling him no, this is cheating, Kurt, you're better than this. His head was dizzy with so many disagreeing emotions, he had to force his eyes open to avoid spinning further and further into his own mind.

When he did, his gaze rested upon Blaine. Blaine lay in the sand, eyelids gently shut, hands nested between his head and the sand, humming lightly into his upturned lips.

"You look pretty satisfied with yourself," Kurt shot at him.

He hadn't intended to sound as harsh and demeaning as he did, he just got that way when he didn't have any sensible emotion to turn to- it was something he'd learned in high school to protect himself. Blaine's smile broadened a bit, so Kurt could tell the tanned man had heard, yet he received no reply save a hum of acknowledgement.

--

Shit. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. God fucking damn it. Fuck. Blaine wanted to sink into the sand and disappear forever. Was it possible to sink to China? Because he was pretty sure he was willing to give that one a shot. No. You'd eventually hit the molten core of the Earth. That wouldn't be too bad either, he reasoned.

Kurt sounded poisonous, it didn't suit him, Blaine liked it better when the man laughed. When he made the man laugh. Would he get that chance again?

Kurt seemed to be enjoying it- at least his nether regions didn't seem to mind. Stop. The word played over and over. Blaine shifted a little, running his hands through his tight curls before resting them beneath his head yet again.

Blaine was thankful his face would not betray the whirlwind of feelings that twisted through his gut, searching for an outlet. Like a brick wall or some other hard surface with which he could acquaint his head. After years of listening to bullies stare at him as if he were some sick creature, throwing slurs at him under their breath, he'd learned to stay composed, pleasant, dapper- even when those insults came from his own father. He supposed he'd at least have something to thank the man for later.

"Do you wanna talk?"

"No."

"Kurt."

Kurt slowly sat up and attempted to dust off the sand freckling his poor Alexander McQueen. He wasn't sure what there was to talk about. It had been a mistake. Liam would be furious if he found out, Blaine would very likely get caught it something that had been digging at their relationship- if he could call it that- for a long time. Kurt wasn't a cheater. He wasn't. He didn't want to be. And yet, as always, dangle a gorgeous piece of meat in front of him and tell him he can't have it... He needed Rachel before he could talk to Blaine. And ice cream. A lot of ice cream.

"That was a mistake, Blaine. Or, I think it was. I just- I need some time."

Big, round, hazel eyes searched Kurt's face, trying to figure out if he should allow himself to hope,

"Then, I'll text you and you can, you know, text me when you wanna talk or something..."

Kurt contemplated the proposal and nodded, before pausing,

"Wait...you don't have my number, do you?" Kurt gasped in realization when Blaine didn't respond, "You didn't steal my number when you had my phone, did you?"

Blaine blushed and wrinkled his nose.

"You did," Kurt said in disbelief, "you went through my phone!"

Blaine rolled away from Kurt and onto his chest before pushing himself off the beach. His hand reached back and teased the back of his curls,

"No, I. What? No," the boy laughed nervously, "So, um. I'll text you."

It was more of a question than a statement, but Blaine didn't stick around long enough for Kurt to answer.

Kurt supposed he'd have been upset if the dark-haired man wasn't so adorable, but he couldn't find it in his heart to hold a grudge against those big puppy-dog eyes. Instead, Kurt laughed breathlessly at the man kicking sand in the distance, as if he'd mistakenly thought he was already out of sight.