The sound of wet skin hitting wet skin is a lot louder than they expected.� Again, it’s not the first time they’ve had sex by any means, but this is new – this is new and damp and a little messy and a lot perfect.� It’s exactly what they both need.

�

Blaine’s hands flex where they’re pressed against the wall, his nails trying desperately to cling to the grout between the cold tiles.� “Move.� Nngh, please – more, Kurt.”

�

“Y-yeah, okay.� Sorry,” he grunts out, thrusting back in quickly.

�

His hands drift from Blaine’s hips, sliding down the soaked expanse of skin until his palms rest firmly over his ass.� He massages the flesh, opening Blaine up just the slightest bit more so he can push in even closer to him.� It’s a small thing, but it makes a world of difference when it seems like their very bones ache to be connected.

�

Over his ragged breathing, Kurt says, “God, you feel so good.� Don’t want to leave you.”

�

Blaine’s jaw drops in silent pleasure, and it takes a moment before he can choke out a “Then don’t.”

�

Rather than trying to reply again, Kurt pushes himself in all the way until he’s pressed completely against Blaine, their hips slotting together like they were carved as matching pieces.� Then, slowly, so as not to knock either of them over, he leans his weight onto him.� He hitches his leg up, resting his foot on the edge of the tub, and lowers himself over Blaine’s back.� With more tenderness than the harried moment perhaps should allow, he begins to press very deliberate, lingering kisses down Blaine’s neck and shoulders.� With every kiss, he rolls his hips upward.

�

Kurt’s lips never leave his skin.� After each kiss, he slides a little further down, lavishing his back with them.� He moves down Blaine’s spine gently, brushing his lips against every contour, every sun-kissed freckle, every dip of every muscle, until he feels like he’s mapped out his entire upper body.� Until he feels like he could draw Blaine with his eyes closed.� Until he feels like he’s memorized every single tiny detail that makes up this person he loves.

�

And with every kiss and every roll and corkscrew of Kurt’s hips, Blaine falls a little further apart.� His toes curl in against his body, and part of him wants to cry out for Kurt to pull some of his weight off of him seeing as he feels like his knees might give out at any second with zero notice – but even if he could, he wouldn’t.� He refuses to miss out on a single second of this moment, so he just lifts up onto his toes, shoving himself back a little further and a little quicker into Kurt.

�

Which pulls a broken moan from deep within Kurt’s chest.� He rests his forehead against Blaine’s back and draws in a shaky breath, winding his arms around him until they completely encircle him, until Blaine is completely wrapped up and buried in Kurt.� They both need this so much.� They have no time for this, not really, but after everything that this day has thrown at both of them, neither of them wants to have sex right now like some sort of frenzied porn stars.

�

They hate the term ‘making love.’� They both consider themselves (and will freely admit to being) hopeless romantics, but that’s pushing it a bit for either of them.� Except – that’s exactly how this feels.� There’s so much emotion flowing between both of them, so much pure, raw, unadulterated love, that it’s truly almost overwhelming.

�

“Love you,” Kurt mumbles into Blaine’s skin.� He pistons his hips smoothly, relishing in the careful, calculated drag of skin against skin, mumbling out a fragmented stream of “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

�

Blaine swallows hard.� “For what?”

�

“Everything,” Kurt croaks out, his voice hardly more than a whisper.� “For pitying the poor spy to noticing something was wrong to being my friend to trusting me and to loving me, every single piece.”� He punctuates each of the last three words by brushing against Blaine’s prostate every time, angling his hips up just right and just hard enough.

�

With a sharp cry, Blaine grabs Kurt’s hand and slides it down from his diaphragm to his cock.� Taking the hint, Kurt wraps him up tightly in his hand and pumps in time with each thrust deep into him.�

�

“Close,” Blaine whimpers, bringing his hand back to the wall in front of him for strength.� The water is cold, but it does nothing to help his aching erection.� “Please, please…”

�

“I’ve got you,” Kurt murmurs, giving his hand a twist every time he grazes over the head.� The coldness of the water just makes Blaine’s skin feel even hotter, like they’re both on fire.

�

Blaine rocks back and forth on his heels, switching between pushing back against Kurt’s hips or up into the warmth of his hand.� His breath comes out in sharp pants, small keening noises following close behind every one.

�

“Come on.� Shh, come on, I’ve got you,” Kurt repeats.� His hand slides up and down Blaine’s length just three more times before, with a choked-off gasp, Blaine spills over him, his entire body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

�

Kurt moves his hands, come-covered mess and all, back to Blaine’s hips and begins pushing into him quickly, knowing he’ll be soon to follow.� It’d be hard not to, with the way Blaine is clenching down on him with every tremor and shake that wracks his frame.� He manages to last another thirty seconds or so, which seems so little to them and yet so much, considering how sensitive they both already are, before he thrusts up deeply into Blaine and stills, coming long and hard.

�

It’s then that his foot slides down off the edge of the tub, falling ungracefully into the small collected amount of water around them.� As soon as he can find it within himself to move again, Kurt lifts himself off Kurt’s back, letting them both straighten up into a standing position.� But neither separates.

�

“Thank you.”� This time, it’s Blaine that whispers the words softly, a smile blossoming slowly across his features.

�

Kurt gives him a quiet chuckle in return.� “I can safely assure you that it was my pleasure.”

�

“We should clean up.� Are you okay to – you know, rinse off?”

�

He nods, and with a low hiss, pulls out of Blaine.� “Yeah, I should be.� It’ll only be a few seconds, which won’t be enough to trigger another transformation.”

�

Since his hands are still draped around Blaine, Kurt decides to go ahead and rinse them under the stream while they talk, letting the evidence of the fact that they just had sex in Rachel Berry’s bathroom (…again) wash away.

�

“Why don’t you go first,” Blaine suggests, moving carefully to switch places with him one last time in the shower.� “It’ll take a bit longer for me in here, and I know you’re ready to get out of this cold and into some dry clothes.”

�

“You know me so well,” Kurt sighs, pressing his lips against Blaine’s sweetly.

�

“By this point, I would hope so.”

�

“Oh, trust me,” Kurt says, quickly washing himself off, “You do.� Much better than anyone else at this point.”� He finishes after a minute or so and turns back around to Blaine, giving him a soft smile.� “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

�

Kurt leaves the shower after that, leaving Blaine alone with his thoughts and now uncomfortable ache from the frigid water.� He turns around and washes himself out as quickly as possible, pins and needles shooting through his hands as they threaten to go numb from the cold.

�

“On the plus side,” rings Kurt’s voice from across the room, “Our clothes are really warm.� Was our bag sitting in the sun, or something?”

�

Blaine nods, momentarily forgetting that Kurt can’t see him.� “Yeah, it was under the window.”

�

“Well, it feels amazing, after that shower.”

�

Ducking his head, Blaine smiles.� So it wasn’t the most successful sex in the world; in fact, it was downright uncomfortable a bit there towards the end.� But the overwhelming feeling of connection outweighed how chilled they became.� He switches the water off after that, running his hands over his hair to push excess water out and ruffling the curls back up.

�

“Can you hand me a towel?” he asks, wiping his eyes.

�

A few seconds later, Kurt pulls the shower curtain back and smiles up at him, a fluffy white towel draped over his arm.� “Well, this is a new vantage point for both of us,” he teases.

�

Blaine rolls his eyes and grabs the towel, wrapping it tightly around his waist before leaning down to capture Kurt’s lips once again.� When he pulls back a moment later, he does so just barely, their lips still tangled together as he speaks.

�

“Quiet, you.”

�

“Mmm, but that’s no fun at all.� I thought you liked when I’m vocal?”

�

He practically groans at how bad a line it is, but he doesn’t deny it.� Of course not.� It’s true, after all.� “I won’t grace that with a response.”

�

“That’s enough of one, love.”

�

Smiling softly, Blaine pulls away and unwraps the towel from around his waist, ruffling his hair and drying off the rest of his body.� Kurt just watches, leaning back against the bathroom counter.

�

Blaine drags the towel down his face, glancing up at him.� “Like what you see?”

�

“Always.”

�

“Hand me my clothes?” he asks, draping the wet towel over the shower rod.

�

Kurt does, and never looks away as he dresses, sliding back into his still-damp swimsuit and his (thankfully dry) t-shirt.� The suit immediately clings to his body, and Blaine shivers – the material uncomfortably cold after the also-too-cold shower.

�

With a quiet chuckle, Kurt turns back towards the mirror, running a comb through his hair.� Before joining him, Blaine grabs the bottle of lube off the shelf in the shower, drying it off quickly in the towel and sliding it into the bag.�

�

“So what now?” he asks, resting his hip against the counter next to Kurt.� “Where do we go from here?”

�

After he finishes combing his hair, Kurt drops that into the bag as well.� He wraps his swimsuit up in a Ziploc bag he had thought to bring along.� With a soft sigh, he braces his hands on the edge of the sink.� “What do you want to do, Blaine?”

�

There’s a moment of silence before Blaine wraps him in a hug from behind.

�

“Wet, Blaine!� Get off me!”

�

“No,” he says, burying his grin into Kurt’s neck.� “You know what I want to do?”

�

Kurt leans back at an awkward angle, keeping his hips pushed forward away from Blaine’s wet swim trunks and yet simultaneously resting his head on his shoulder.� “What?”

�

“I want to get out of Rachel’s bathroom.”

�

“And then what?” Kurt prods.

�

“And then,” Blaine begins, “We’re going to go home and get changed and cleaned up and go out to dinner and just – be us.� Without worrying about the fact that our classmates are a few walls away.”

�

Kurt lets his eyes drift closed, the corners of his lips just barely tugging upwards.� “And then?”

�

“One day at a time, Kurt.� We’ve got the rest of our lives.”

�

He doesn’t doubt him for a second.