As Kurt had predicted, Santana practically insisted that the men have plenty of alone time. This was after she high fived Kurt for picking up “Hot Ass Hitchhiker Boy” and she threatened to cut Blaine if he “didn't make Lady Lips hit some freakin' high notes at least twice tonight.”  Brittany asked with quiet solemnity if they “were going to rub boy parts,” and Blaine blushed a fetching pink, and Kurt told her, “Yes, if I have anything to say about it.”

Thus, when they retired to their room at Santana's urging at the outrageously late hour of 6 pm, they had “permission” to spend the entire evening by themselves.

“So how does this work,” Blaine asked, “this just us?”

“Well,” Kurt dragged out the word, “I was thinking that we start by getting dressed and I take you out to dinner. Santana made us reservations at 7:30 at a country inn called Birchfield Manor. And, although we have never officially gone on a date before, I say that this does not get to be a first date. It's a comfortable tenth or eleventh date between two men who find each other attractive and who know where the night is going to end. Then I say we see where the evening takes us, but I have to say that I'm voting for it to take us there,” he nodded toward the bed.

“I want to enjoy you, Blaine. I want to stare into your eyes and think about how fantastically gorgeous you are and chat and laugh and not worry about what happens tomorrow when we get to Seattle or what happens in July when we're on different sides of the country. I want tonight to just be about tonight.”

Blaine thought back to earlier in the day when Kurt has referred to him as “my boyfriend,” and Blaine's heart had swelled. Part of him assumed that the reference was just part of Kurt's easy banter with his friends, but those words, in combination with Kurt's declaration of his intentions for that night posed a potential problem. He looked down at his toes, “That sounds amazing, Kurt, it does, but I can't promise that I won't spoil the evening again by blurting out that I love you, because I think I really do, and maybe I'm just one of those guys who always has to be in love, but I'm sorry, that's how I feel.”

Kurt put a finger under Blaine's chin and lifted his face so that they were staring into each other's eyes. Kurt gave a soft smile, “I can't promise to say it back—not ever—but how about for tonight I give you permission to love me all you want, and I give me permission to not freak out about it?”

Blaine's heart lifted, and his spirit soared, “For tonight,” Blaine said, leaning in to kiss Kurt softly on the lips, “That sound perfect.”

It was a magical night. Blaine let himself stare at Kurt during dinner with a dreamy expression on his face while Kurt fed him tidbits from his plate. Kurt, meanwhile, allowed himself to enjoy being adored—something he had never before experienced—while also doing something that was more wooing and less seduction than he was used to. It was refreshing, and it felt so pure.

Kurt thought that maybe Seattle could be a new beginning. For the first time in his life, he would be somewhere where no one knew him, and he could be anyone he wanted to be. He realized, as Blaine popped a spoonful of pillowy crème brûlée in Kurt's smiling mouth, that he wanted more than anything to be the man he was when he was with Blaine—the man who cared about his partner more than himself. Of course, Kurt would have to find a way to be that man without Blaine, as Blaine was pretty clear about what would happen in July, but maybe Kurt could try to capture some of it while he could, and maybe it would be enough of a memory to last.

“What?” asked Blaine, when he noticed Kurt staring intently at him, chin resting in his hand.

“I was trying to decide which I like better,” Kurt smiled, “your mouth or your eyes.”

Blaine's eyelids fluttered down, clearly pleased, but he retorted, “What do you have against my nose?”

Without missing a beat, Kurt raised an eyebrow, leaned foward, and rejoined, “If I'm lucky, what I'll have against your nose soon is the part of me just above my dick.”

Blaine's eyes grew wide, “You did not just say that! There are people around.”

“Not tonight there aren't,” Kurt replied languidly, stroking a thumb over Blaine's knuckles. “Tonight there's just us.”

As they broke several traffic laws speeding back to their room, Kurt reached his hand out for Blaine's, squeezed it and said, “Anything you want tonight. Say the word. You can have it.”

Blaine didn't say anything for a moment. Then he said, “I want…everything. I want to touch you everywhere; I want to look at you from every angle. I want to do everything with you without fear or recrimination, and I want to do the really good things twice, and…and…and…Yeah, that doesn't sound creepy or stalker-ish at all, does it?” He finished with a short laugh.  

Kurt put a hand out and touched Blaine's cheek. “You are so beautiful,” he said in a husky voice, “That sounds perfect.”

Although it wasn't their first time to make love, it felt like their first time in so many ways. They went slowly, kissing gently, Blaine's hands coming up to cup Kurt's face, and Kurt's head falling back as Blaine trailed his lips down Kurt's neck, diving in gently again and again like a hummingbird to nectar.

They touched each other with care and wonder, and both men eventually realized that they had never before taken the time to really enjoy a partner. Now, they wanted to savor each other and make it last forever.

The slow burn increased the intensity, and by mutual unspoken consent, they wanted to spin it out as long as possible. It was more than an hour before a single button was undone. That was initiated by Blaine, unbuttoning Kurt's dress shirt slowly, button by button from the neck down, kissing each new bit of skin he exposed. Kurt took the bottom-up route, working his fingers under the hem of Blaine's sweater and pushing it upward, inch by slow inch, taking his time to caress the warm skin he laid bare.

When they were finally naked from the waist up, they fell onto the bed, joined together in a perfect embrace. Pulling back a little, Kurt gazed deeply into Blaine's eyes, and Blaine whispered, “I love you.”

After the words passed his lips, Blaine's face took on an expression of uncertainty, but Kurt smiled and replied, “I'm so glad,” and then Blaine's face was wreathed in smiles.

“Please, Kurt. I want to feel you inside me.” And this was right, too, because although they had switched wonderfully the night before, Kurt was the more natural top, as Blaine was the more comfortable bottom. So then there was the shedding of the final clothing and the gentle prepping that left Blaine panting and Kurt achingly hard. Then Kurt was entering incrementally, inch by slow inch, as Blaine gasped and Kurt bit his own lip until he nearly drew blood. Then he was in, and he pulled Blaine up into a searing kiss while they rocked together until they couldn't bear it any longer. Then they were moving in earnest, Kurt panting and sweating as he pumped into Blaine again and again while he stroked him with his hand, and Blaine crying out and gripping the sheets and spreading his toes so widely as his feet pulled back during an orgasm that seemed to wave up from his ankles and travel the length of his body. And then Kurt was coming, and pumping, and coming, and, finally, collapsing onto Blaine's spattered chest, both men gasping for air.

An hour later Santana peeked in on them. Kurt was on his back with Blaine's head tucked under his chin. Blaine's arm was thrown across Kurt's body. They both looked completely sated and happy, despite being sound asleep.