They walk up the few steps onto her porch and Kurt rings the doorbell, a towel slung over his arm. Rachel seems to be in no hurry to answer the door – a few minutes pass with no sign of her. Kurt presses the button again, letting out an agitated sigh, and jumps about a foot in the air when he feels Blaine’s hand slide into the back pocket of his jeans (because of course he hadn’t changed at Blaine’s – he wanted to have dry clothes to wear home, something Blaine himself hadn’t thought of).

“What are you doing?” he hisses. “Public place, Blaine.”

Maddeningly, Blaine just chuckles. “It’s just the glee club, Kurt.”

“We’re not actually inside Rachel’s house yet, in case you haven’t noticed,” he replies, but Blaine’s hand remains firmly in his back pocket, his thumb toying with the waistband of the jeans.

Blaine just leans in close, his breath overly warm against Kurt’s ear, and says, “Nobody’s watching us. Calm down.”

Kurt swallows, but eventually relents, leaning back slightly into Blaine’s touch. His thumb slides between the smooth skin of his lower back and the waistband, his fingers curling up in the pocket until he has a handful of Kurt’s ass sitting in the palm of his hand. Kurt inhales sharply, still nervous that someone is going to jump out of the bushes and start throwing stones or something, but Blaine just smiles.

“I told you you looked irresistible,” he whispers.

“Actually, you said-“ he begins, but is immediately cut off by a high pitched squeal as a somewhat damp Rachel launches herself into Kurt’s arms.

“You’re here!”

He stumbles a bit under her weight, not having expected it, and laughs nervously as Blaine withdraws his hand – albeit a bit reluctantly. “We – we thought you’d forgotten about us, Rach. You left us waiting out here for a while, you know.”

She finally pulls back and beams, throwing her arms around Blaine next. “Sorry! Everyone was in the pool. I had to dry off some before I could go back into the house to let you in. My Dads aren’t here, but they’d kill me if the floors were ruined.”

Rachel manages to eventually let go of both of them and lead them into the house. Kurt knows his way around well enough, but Rachel gives Blaine some basic pointers – bathroom is down the hall to the left, kitchen is straight ahead and past the dining room, the spare bedroom where everyone seems to have thrown their stuff is the last door on the right before the porch – before rounding on Kurt, her finger wiggling menacingly in front of her. “And why are you not in a suit?”

“I felt it was a bit too formal for the occasion, to be honest,” he says, giving her a slight eye roll.

“Kurt, I’m serious! It’s a pool party. It’s hot outside. You can’t wear jeans all day.”

Blaine jumps in, wrapping an arm around Kurt’s shoulders. “He brought a suit, Rachel. He just didn’t want to wear it in the car. Now… remind me again where that bathroom is?”

She points them down the hall, still side-eyeing them as they walk off. “Blaine already has his suit on, though,” she calls after them.

“Very astute observation, Rachel, you sure you aren’t a scientist?” Kurt drones.

“Then why-“

He holds up a hand, cutting her off. “Do you really want to ask that question? Consider carefully.”

Rachel regards them for a moment before shaking her head dramatically and turning on her heel, storming off in classic Rachel Berry fashion.

“She sure knows how to make an exit,” Blaine says, one eyebrow raised as they watch her exit back into the backyard, presumably to tell everyone they’ve arrived.

“That’s Rachel for you. She finds the potential to be a diva in every moment.”

“Rachel is really not what I want to be talking about right now.” Blaine grabs his hand, pulling him down the rest of the hall to the bathroom door.

Kurt smirks. “Is that so? Well, Blaine Warbler,” he teases, tugging on the ends of the towel draped around his neck, “I don’t want to talk at all.”

Kurt keeps his grip on the towel, pulling Blaine into the small bathroom before reaching behind him to close the door. Before Blaine can even register being in the room, his back is slammed up against the door – Kurt’s face inches from his own.

“You tease,” he groans, pressing his lips against the skin of Blaine’s neck. It’s been warmer than usual this summer for Ohio, so even just the few minutes waiting outside for Rachel has left a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Kurt’s tongue slides out and over his pulse point, and he sucks just hard enough to make Blaine’s back arch – not enough to leave a mark, never quite that hard.

“Kurt, w-we can’t-“

Kurt growls at him, actually growls at him. “Don’t you dare tell me we can’t, Blaine Anderson. You’re the one who started it.”

Blaine swallows hard, and Kurt can feel the movement of his throat as he continues sucking on the skin, moving a bit lower down his neck. “B-but everyone is waiting for us outside.”

“So let them wait.”

Kurt slots one of his legs between Blaine’s and leans forward. The pressure is enough to make Blaine’s knees buckle a bit, which just spurs Kurt on. Moving forward until his knee hits the door, he situates Blaine on either side of his leg, holding him up.

Blaine groans, tilting his head to the side to open his neck up. “Rachel… Rachel knows,” he chokes out, reaching blindly until his hands settle on Kurt’s hips.

“Don’t care,” Kurt says before grabbing the hem of Blaine’s shirt. The fabric is up and over his head in one swift movement, and Kurt immediately brings his hands to his chest, running slowly down his torso.

Breathing picking up rapidly, Blaine makes one last half-baked attempt. “We – we have to face these people all afternoon.”

Kurt pulls back. “I said I didn’t want to talk, Blaine.” And with that, he begins again, biting and licking and sucking at his collarbone – a spot he knows well is a weakness for him.

Blaine throws an arm out, his hand catching the counter, in an attempt to brace himself as Kurt moves achingly slowly down his chest. For every bite, Kurt lavishes the area with wet, open-mouthed kisses and Blaine rocks his hips up against his leg, hoping for some ounce of friction. But Kurt shakes his head, bringing a hand down to his hips to hold him still, pinning him against the door.

“Not yet,” he whispers, and then immediately dips his head down, flicking his tongue out over Blaine’s nipple. Blaine’s knuckles turn white where he grips the counter and it takes all of his strength to stay standing, even with Kurt’s help. He keeps teasing Blaine for a few seconds before sucking the tender bud into his mouth, biting lightly and sucking hard.

Blaine throws his head back, hitting the door with a solid thunk, and his jaw drops. “K-Kurt…” is all he manages to breathe out.

Kurt releases him with a wet smack, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. “Stay quiet,” he says. His voice is forceful, deeper than normal.

And then he’s dropping to his knees.

Blaine’s eyes fly open wide, and he swears he’s dipping into all of his self-control to bite back the moan that wants to come out as Kurt loosens the ties on the front of his swim trunks with graceful fingers.

Once they’re finally untied, just barely clinging to his hips still, Kurt brings his hands back up around his ribs, dancing playfully over his far-too-sensitive skin. His fingertips barely brush him, but it’s enough to send chills up his spine.

And he can’t hold it in anymore. With a quiet, broken voice, Blaine says, “Please,” and it’s enough to push Kurt over the edge. He slides his hands back down Blaine’s torso, his thumbs hooking under his waistband, dragging the suit down with them until it pools at his ankles.

Blaine hisses, the air suddenly cool against his skin – which feels like it’s on fire already just from the little bit of him Kurt has touched. Kurt – whose warm hands are now on his thighs, pushing them apart carefully so that he doesn’t lose his balance. Kurt – who stares up at him one last time and deliberately licks his lips before sliding his hand up the short distance to the base of his cock and finally – finally – wrapping his hand firmly around him.

Blaine’s knees buckle again, and Kurt uses his other hand to keep his hips pressed firmly into the door, pushing so hard that there are bound to be bruises. They both know it’s risky – swimsuits will pull down when waterlogged, after all – but Blaine can’t bring himself to care, not when Kurt’s hand is finally moving, dragging up towards the head in slow, burning motions. His thumb flicks out over the head, pressing against the slit, and Blaine stuffs his fist in his mouth.

And then Kurt pulls his hand away, and Blaine visibly shudders, a low moan ripping through him. “Kurt, please…”

He pulls his head away from the door to look down at Kurt, trying to figure out why on earth he would put him through this, and the sight makes his toes curl.

Kurt licks his hand – slowly, a small smirk on his face, his eyes never breaking from Blaine’s.

“Oh God, Kurt. Fuck, just-…” He cuts himself off with a high-pitched keen, a whimper, as Kurt wraps his hand around tightly around him again. The slickness of his hand makes it even better – less of a painful drag and more of a smooth glide – and he can barely remember how to breathe with how good it feels.

Kurt pumps him twice at a frustratingly leisurely pace, his eyes still locked on Blaine’s. “Just what, Blaine?”

“I – I need…”

“What do you need, Blaine?” Kurt asks, his thumb pressing tightly against the vein running up the underside of his cock. “Tell me.”

Blaine is panting, struggling just to draw in air, much less talk. His hand on the counter is clenching and unclenching, wishing desperately it had something to cling to to give him some semblance of an anchor.

“Your mouth. Please, God, Kurt… just, I – I need...”

Kurt shushes him then, the hand on his hip brushing the skin lightly. He pumps him a few more times, faster, a bit rougher, until his hand is dry again. “Okay. Just remember – you have to stay quiet.”

He slides his hand down to the base, wrapping around him once more. He presses a kiss to the head before flicking his tongue out, swirling slowly. Blaine bites his lip, barely holding back a groan, and buries his hand in Kurt’s hair, tugging sharply

Which – oh, is apparently a thing for Kurt, because he sinks down over him in one solid move, his moans vibrating around Blaine. That’s definitely something they’ll be talking about later, but right now, Blaine just pulls Kurt towards him, sliding more of his cock down into his throat. Kurt relaxes his jaw, swallowing carefully and trying to avoid his gag reflex.

He twists his hand around the base of Blaine that he can’t manage and hollows his cheeks. Then he’s sucking – and hard. His tongue slides against the same vein he massaged earlier, and with a deep breath through his nose, Kurt slides even closer to Blaine, until his nose is against his waist and Blaine’s cock hits the back of his throat.

He keeps him there for a few seconds, and Blaine has to tug him back by his hair to get him to pull away. He looks up at him, his eyes looking impossibly bright and devilish under his lashes, and Blaine just holds his free hand up. His chest is heaving, as if every single breath is a chore, when he finally replies. “I was about to-…”

Kurt pulls off with a pop, and Blaine has to suppress yet another groan at the sight of him. His lips are bruised, a bright, swollen cherry red, and there’s a thin line of saliva connecting his mouth to his cock. “I thought that was the point,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smirk.

Before Blaine can find the strength to reply, Kurt’s mouth is back on him, enveloping him in an overwhelming amount of warm and wet. His head bobs up and down him quickly, and Blaine just clenches his hand in Kurt’s hair.

It doesn’t take long before he’s right there at the edge again, heat coiling and pooling heavy in his stomach. “K-Kurt, I’m gonna-…” he begins, his voice breathless and airy.

Kurt replies by sucking harder, by pumping him faster, by swallowing as much as he can manage – and that’s all it takes. Blaine’s entire body goes rigid, his back arching away from the door and straining to be close as possible to Kurt as he comes down his throat, hips stuttering forward until he can come no more.