“Are you okay?” It was a tentative question, and Blaine half shrugged and half nodded.

“Yeah I’m fine, that was just… amazing.” He bit his lip, questioning whether he wanted to go on or not. It wasn’t really something he had told anyone, other than maybe mentioning it offhand once or twice years before and having it treated as though he’d been joking. But this was Kurt, and he felt like he could tell him anything. But not there, not while they were driving. He needed time to collect all his thoughts. That was why he waited until they’d gotten back to the house and were in the safety of his room.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he started quietly, straightening his tie from where it’d gotten skewed by the seatbelt in the car. “Play like that, with an orchestra, I mean. Be a concert pianist. That was what I wanted. I never… told anyone, because it felt like a silly thing to say, and it’s not like I’m that good. I know you’ll say I am,” he rushed out, hands dropping down to rub over the tops of his legs, “but I’m not. Not like that was tonight. That was… so much, Kurt.”

Kurt reached over, taking his hand, pulling it up and kissing it gently. “You could be.”

“No,” Blaine said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t, it’s—”

“Not impossible, not too late,” Kurt broke in, taking his other hand too and holding them both tightly. “Blaine, you are talented. You’re already better than half the piano studio, at least the ones that I’ve heard. This isn’t an impossible dream. There are ways to try, as long as you’re willing, and I know that you can do it. I know you can because I’ve heard and seen how passionate you are about music.” He paused, dropping Blaine’s hands so he could cup his face between them, his fingertips brushing against the apples of his cheeks. “Screw what your dad says. If this is what you want, if this is your dream, you go for it and don’t take any excuse or way out until you’re up on that stage and all those people are applauding for you.”

Blaine’s breath caught in his throat, overwhelmed by how genuine and sincere Kurt sounded about it all. It was almost enough to make him believe. Almost believe to the point that he couldn’t remember how words worked, and how to form them and make them come out. So he went with the next best thing, and gently pulled Kurt’s hands away from his face so he could lean in and kiss him.

It was different than before, not as sweet and soft like it usually started, but more desperate and wanting. God, he just really wanted to be as close to Kurt as possible, to help him feel just how much Blaine felt and appreciated everything he’d said. Those words, that support, it was everything he needed and Kurt had given it so willingly and unsolicited. He kissed him hard, almost rough, in an attempt to put all of his emotions into that one moment. His hands slid up under Kurt’s jacket, up to his shoulders, and he felt Kurt give his tie a little tug as he nipped at his lower lip.

They took each other’s jackets off easily, lips not parting, and Blaine’s hand slid up to undo Kurt’s tie. That was when he faltered. He wasn’t wearing a tie, he was wearing a bow tie. His fingers trembled just barely as they traced over it. A bow tie, which was not a Kurt staple at all. Kurt’s hand covered his, and Blaine tilted his head up toward him, almost in askance.

“I thought you might like it,” Kurt murmured, thumb stroking over the back of his hand. Like it? Blaine really did.

Their mouths met in another heated kiss, ties were undone and discarded, and Kurt’s hands slipped around to his back and tugged gently on his shirt, untucking it. Blaine whimpered against his mouth as Kurt’s fingers raked up his undershirt and made contact with his bare skin underneath. They had progressed further over the past two weeks, and Blaine was fully comfortable with all the kissing and touching that had happened (always North of the equator), but skin on skin contact where that skin was always covered by something – that was new. That was nice.

His fingers fumbled as they undid the buttons of Kurt’s shirt, starting at the top and working his way down, and he tried not to think because if he let himself think he would realize just how close his hands were getting to… Kurt. His lips pressed against his neck to keep himself distracted from what his hands were doing. He untucked his shirt and took in a deep breath as Kurt pulled back to draw it over his head and drop it to the floor, and Blaine did the same with his own. He’d been in a t-shirt in front of Kurt before, but that was different.

Kurt tentatively lifted the front of Blaine’s undershirt, his fingertips brushing against his stomach and making his muscles clench. He breathed in sharply and reached out to steady himself, hand settling on Kurt’s chest and knotting into the fabric of his shirt. That didn’t help at all but it did earn him a little hum from his boyfriend, and that was always good. Plus, he could feel the rumble from it in his chest, right under his hand. He had to let go as Kurt slowly dragged his shirt up, and he lifted his arms so he could get it off easier.

He’d never been shirtless in front of anyone before – not in that way, at least. He felt vaguely exposed but at the same time he didn’t care at all. He couldn’t care when it was Kurt and he was working Kurt’s shirt off just as easily as his own had gone. His fingertips skimmed over his biceps, remembering back to that first time he’d held onto them for support, dancing at the party, but now they were bare beneath his hands. So were his shoulders, those broad shoulders, and his chest, and his skin was so smooth and soft that Blaine just kept running his hands over it until he realized that might be odd.

“Sorry…”

“Blaine, you think I have a problem with you touching me?” Kurt huffed out a laugh, leaning in and pressing a few kisses up his jaw before lingering up against his ear. “I want you to.”

It took Blaine a few seconds to recover from that. Kurt’s voice had been low and unwavering and he’d said he wanted Blaine to touch him. It wasn’t like there were any misconceptions when it came to Blaine’s prowess or experience – of which there was none. He tilted his head, brushing a kiss against Kurt’s cheek before their lips met again, tongues sliding together briefly before he pulled back and rest their foreheads together. “Lay down?”

Kurt obliged wordlessly, shifting further back on the bed. He grabbed Blaine’s hand, tugging him in, and Blaine almost tumbled down on top of him but he caught himself in time. Sitting back on his heels, right beside Kurt’s hip, he hesitantly reached his hand down and ran it along his chest. His fingertips traced along his collarbone, the sharp angle jutting out from the otherwise smooth plane. He let his hand move down, its movement stuttering as his thumb brushed over a nipple.

“C’mere,” Kurt murmured as his hand hooked around the back of Blaine’s thigh, the one closest to him, and he gripped and pulled it up. Blaine let him guide him over until he was sitting against the top of his legs, straddling him, and he tried not to think about how hard he was getting because he wanted to just touch for a while. Not that that would help matters at all.

His hands moved up his arms again, thumbs rubbing over his biceps – he really did love his arms a whole lot – before shifting up to his shoulders, palms flattening out against the sides of his neck and trailing up to cup his jaw. He couldn’t keep still, not with so much bare skin to explore, so his hands kept moving slowly – down over his collarbone, sternum, out over his chest, he could feel the way Kurt kept holding his breath and he knew his own kept hitching but he couldn’t help it. How was it possible for someone to have such hard, defined muscles – and Blaine could feel every single one of them as his fingertips skimmed and explored – and still be so soft and pliant? “You’re so gorgeous…”

He drew in a sharp breath as Kurt’s hands ran up the tops of his legs and to his waist, long fingers taking him in just like his own were doing with Kurt. His hands moved over his stomach, feeling Kurt’s muscles jump and tense under his touch, and out to his hips and then they stopped. Kurt’s hipbones jutted out just like his collarbone did, but it was so, so different. Blaine’s fingertips dug into the grooves there, not very hard but enough to get a soft gasp from his boyfriend.

Leaning down, he pressed a tentative kiss against Kurt’s chest. One of Kurt’s hands slid up to the back of his neck, fingertips threading into the hair at the nape, and Blaine took that as encouragement. He trailed small, open mouthed kisses along his collarbone, teeth grazing lightly against it. When Kurt’s fingers tightened in his hair, his hips rolled forward and down against him of their own volition. He pulled his mouth away, starting to open it to speak, but Kurt beat him too it.

“Don’t you dare apologize.” He pulled Blaine up to him and captured his mouth, tongue tracing against the seam of his lips until they parted. His hips rocked up and he took Blaine’s moan into his mouth, hand pressing against his lower back to keep him close. Blaine pressed his hand down against the mattress, whimpering softly as he felt Kurt hard against his hip, the slow, steady pace of them grinding together making his head spin and every inch of him feel like it was tingling.

His free hand slid its way down, getting to the waistband of Kurt’s pants and toying along the edge of the fabric. He managed to pull back from the kiss, despite the low whine of protest from Kurt, and catch his breath long enough to make his brain function properly and form some words. “Can I…?”

“God yes,” Kurt breathed, and Blaine wasted no time undoing the button and zipper, shifting back off him so he could pull down, dragging the pants down his legs and letting Kurt kick them off once they were bunched around his ankles. He had such long legs, and Blaine couldn’t help but run his hands up them, taking in the lean muscle and feel of light hair over soft skin. His fingertips ran into the bottoms of his boxer briefs and he stopped, his breath catching.

Kurt sat up, fingers hooking into the tops of Blaine’s pants and pulling him in closer. Blaine sat very still as Kurt undid them, pushing them down past his hips. His knuckles brushed, just barely, against Blaine’s hard-on and made him gasp. “I’m—”

“Oh God, please don’t say you’re sorry or we’re going to have a real situation on our hands,” Blaine interrupted, dropping back to sit on the bed so Kurt could get his pants the rest of the way off, which he did with a soft chuckle. He felt fingertips slipping beneath the elastic of his boxers and he suddenly felt self conscious, maybe even a tad too-much-too-fast, and he gently grabbed onto Kurt’s wrists. “Can we, um, not…”

Kurt’s hands disappeared instantly. “Blaine, if you don’t want—”

“No, no I want,” he said, shaking his head at how it must have sounded. “I want, Kurt. I really… want.” There were no words for just how much he wanted. “Just, maybe…”

“Leave them on?” Blaine nodded, blushing, feeling remarkably childish. It was annoying how his brain kicked in at the worst time and made him actually think when all he wanted to be doing was Kurt. “That’s fine. Better than fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“You… are beautiful,” Kurt murmured, pulling him back in close and leaning to lie down again, bringing Blaine down on top of him. Well that answered that. Their hips slotted together just so and wow, that was the best thing Blaine had ever felt. There were just two thin pieces of fabric between them but it felt so much different than it had before. He could feel Kurt so much easier, so much better, the perfect way they were rubbing against each other, not each other’s hips but actually each other, with each roll of hips.

It started out slow, like so much else had. Kurt was very obviously letting Blaine set the pace, choose what was happening, clearly not wanting to make a wrong move. Was it possible to make a wrong move when something felt that good? It was still kind of taking a bit for his brain to make the connection that his cock was pressed in against Kurt’s. And the sounds, the little sounds that Kurt was making with every little thrust, the little sounds that he was making himself, though those were undecidedly less amazing and hot as Kurt’s.

His arms were braced on either side of Kurt, carefully holding himself up and trying not to squish him, but they got a little shaky. What had started out tentative, careful and almost learning, had quickly turned fast and borderline dirty. Their mouths clashed together, whimpers and moans swallowed away, as their hips worked in tandem grinding and thrusting and more more more. And maybe Blaine was regretting a little the choice to not be completely naked because he really wanted to know what it would feel like just skin against skin. But there was always the next time.

Kurt’s hands moved down from where they’d been gripping onto his shoulders, sliding down his back and over his ass, and Blaine’s arms almost gave out instantaneously at that. He dropped down onto his forearms and the shift in angle sent sparks through him, heat pooling low in his belly, and he tore his mouth away from Kurt’s so he could bury his face in his neck because he knew it was coming and he didn’t want to accidentally bite his lip or tongue or something embarrassing like that. Kurt’s name was a murmured litany on his lips right up until the moment he broke off in a choked moan as he came.

He didn’t even have a chance to recover before he felt Kurt tense up beneath him, a soft cry muffled in against Blaine’s shoulder, and it took a couple seconds for Blaine’s still-hazy-from-orgasm brain to realize that he had felt Kurt come. And then a few seconds after that, he realized that maybe keeping the boxers on hadn’t been such a great idea because wow that was incredibly sticky and growing uncomfortable quickly. He couldn’t help but drop kisses along Kurt’s neck and shoulder while he tried to catch his breath, head still spinning so gloriously, all his nerves feeling raw and exposed from everything.

Blaine let his arms slide further out from under him, feeling boneless and limp, to where he was practically laying on top of Kurt. His face burrowed against his chest as he breathed hard, listening to Kurt’s heart race and feeling his chest rise and fall sharply with the ragged breaths falling from his lips. He hummed, just barely, as Kurt’s arms moved up to wrap around him, holding him solidly to his chest. Blaine had never imagined it would feel so perfect to be held so tightly, bare skin against each other, slightly sticky and slick from sweat and with breaths panting out like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. Then again, maybe there wasn’t.

“Sorry about… it’s messy,” Blaine mumbled once he’d regained the ability to speak. He knew he should move, should get up and cleaned up or something, but he couldn’t. Not when he was there with Kurt and they’d just done that and especially not with the way Kurt was clutching Blaine down against him.

“Still apologizing,” Kurt muttered, but it sounded almost affectionate. His fingers tickled against his sides, and Blaine squeaked in response. “I’m just going to steal a pair of your boxers to sleep in, that’s all.”

Blaine’s breath caught in his throat at that particular thought and it really was not a good night for him and words. Kurt had that way of knocking them all out of him and leaving him scrambling to find something, anything to say, but failing because how could he say anything at all? He did wriggle in his arms a little, making him loosen up his grip. “I should go, um, clean up. And get those… for you.”

“Just a few more minutes,” Kurt whined, tightening his arms around him again. Blaine couldn’t help but grin, because somehow he had that ability to go from sexy as hell to completely adorable with the snap of his fingers.

There was absolutely no way he could deny him a few more minutes.

Eventually they untangled, and it was even more awkward feeling once they were apart. Blaine stumbled across the room, legs unsteady still, and grabbed out two pairs of boxers, tossing one back toward Kurt. There was a surprised sound, then a laugh, then some mumbling about how he shouldn’t have such good aim for someone who couldn’t see what he was throwing at.

Kurt claimed the bathroom first, and Blaine waited until he was back to escape from his room. The last thing he’d needed was Santana coming downstairs and finding him waiting to get into the bathroom – and only in his boxers. His very sticky-with-come boxers. Then there was that realization that he’d done that. Kurt had done that. He and Kurt had done that. So he waited, then hopped into the shower quickly to clean off as well as get the gel out of his hair. By the time he got back to his room, he was very clean and less wobbly on his feet, but still just as amazed and content as he had been before.

“You smell amazing,” Kurt murmured as Blaine clambered back up onto the bed, flopping down beside him and almost immediately being enveloped by his arms. “All clean and fluffy haired.”

“So do you,” Blaine whispered, and it was true. It was all Kurt but with the very distinct lingering scent of sex. He’d never understood what people had meant before when they said that sex had an actual smell but it really did. And it was all there in his room, radiating from Kurt’s skin, hanging in the air around them. It definitely wasn’t a bad thing. Kurt hummed in agreement and tugged him in closer.

Blaine used Kurt’s chest as a pillow, and the steady thumping of his heart lulled him to sleep.