Kurt fell back on the bed panting, “Have I told you that I love you?”

“Only every day,” Blaine smiled. They were both naked and sweating and very, very post-coital. They had been together for several blissful months now, and they still couldn't get enough of each other.  Theyd had sex in Kurts office, Blaines coffee truck (window down, of course), both of their apartments, and a few places at both NYADA and the law school (shhhh!).  Right now they were in Kurts very rumpled bed, so sore they could barely move.

Blaine ran a hand down Kurt's chest, rubbing the sweat into his skin. “You are so beautiful. Your body is perfect.”

Kurt raised his head up far enough to look down the length of his naked torso. “I dunno. After six months of large mochas every day, I may be getting a paunch.”

“You're ridiculous,” Blaine chuckled, “but, um, about that…”

“Blaine Anderson, do not tell me that you're cutting off my mocha supply!”

Blaine waived his hands, “No, no, never! God, you'd be impossible.”

“Okay, sooooooo….” Kurt circled his hands to indicate that Blaine should continue.

“It's just that your mochas…they aren't…they aren't really the mochas that you thought they were.”

“Blaaaaaaaine. What have you done?” Kurt sat up in bed. “Have you been using whole milk?”

“God, no.”

Kurt put both hands on Blaine's shoulders and pushed him into the mattress, straddling him. They both sort of winced when their cocks rubbed incidentally across each others bodies, because they were both really raw.  But Kurt soldiered on with his questioning, “Did you use chocolate syrup?”

“No, never.”

“Was the espresso not decaf? You know, my skin has been feeling a little tight lately.”

“Kurt, there's only one part of you that's tight,” Blaine teased, smacking Kurt playfully on the bare ass, “but, no, I have not secretly slipped you any caffeine, I promise.”

Kurt wiggled his ass a little to dissipate the sting, enjoying the sensation more than he expected.  He shoved that thought away.  That might be something fun to explore later, but, now, he had an interrogation to conduct.  

Kurt pressed his whole naked body full-length down Blaine, grabbing Blaine's hands, sliding them under Blaine's back and pinning them under both of them. “Tell me,” he said in his most fake-threatening voice.

Blaine blinked and turned his head to look to the side and avoid Kurt's gaze, “I-I-I never used any coffee. Ever.”

Kurt processed this new revelation and raised up slightly. “So my mocha…my delicious, amazing mocha…it's been…it's been…”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Why? Why? Why would you do that?”

“I figured out a long time ago that when people ordered mochas, they secretly just wanted hot chocolate.  They're too embarrassed to order a kiddie drink; but thats what they want. So I never put coffee in my mochas; I just use really, really great quality dark chocolate. And no one has ever complained, or noticed, actually. It's my biggest seller.”

“So, I haven't had a mocha in…what?...six months and a week?” Kurt rolled off of Blaine, stood, and threw Blaine's clothes at him.  “Get dressed,” he ordered.

“You're throwing me out?”

“No; we're going out.”

“Where are we going?” asked Blaine, already dressing.

“You're taking me to Starbucks.”