A Potentiality for Corruption: The Debauchery of Blaine Anderson
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Now We're All Alone Story
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A Potentiality for Corruption: The Debauchery of Blaine Anderson: Now We're All Alone


E - Words: 4,950 - Last Updated: Aug 09, 2012
Story: Closed - Chapters: 1/? - Created: Aug 09, 2012 - Updated: Aug 09, 2012
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Blaine wasn’t entirely sure how it happened.

He had had a solid plan that night: he was going to finish studying in the library before grabbing a takeout on the way to Mike’s apartment – Tina was out with friends because her exams were over, so he and Mike were taking the opportunity to have a gaming night with the volume turned up.

Nowhere did being pinned to his bed and ridden into the mattress by one Kurt Hummel feature in his plans, and yet that was exactly the situation he found himself in.

He tried to remember where exactly his evening had turned from something so innocent to something so debauched (which wasn’t easy when Kurt’s fingernails were scraping down his chest, forcing his eyes to roll back into his head and all words other than fuck, yes, Kurt, please to flee his mind).

All Blaine knew was that he hadn’t even managed to finish studying.



“Excuse me.”

Blaine looked up from the theory book he had been pouring over for his Jazz theory paper that was due in the next week. He froze at the sight in front of him. Kurt Hummel was standing next to his chair, his hand resting on his cocked hip and one eyebrow arched.

Blaine opened his mouth to say something but found that he had temporarily lost his grip on the English language as Kurt grew impatient, his lips thinning into a nearly non-existent line as Blaine remained silent.

“Could you tuck your chair in? As much as I enjoy standing here and watching you gape at me moronically, I need to get past.”

Blaine could feel himself blushing to the roots of his hair as he dropped his gaze back to his book and slid closer to the table so the sharp edge was pressed uncomfortably against his diaphragm. He stayed sitting stock-still, all of his attention focused on the body he could sense standing behind him, scanning the shelves.

Kurt Hummel was infamous.

He was gorgeous, gay and very well known, as Blaine put it, around campus. (Others were more inclined to phrase it in a slightly more derogatory way, such as ‘slut’ or ‘easy’ or ‘will spread his legs for any male that moves’.) And yes, Blaine had possibly had a small crush on him since the moment he’d caught sight of Kurt singing in one of the practice rooms while he was waiting for a free piano.

But he’d never actually drawn up the courage to talk to Kurt. Kurt, who was always immaculately put together with that week’s beau on his arm. Kurt, who would laugh openly at the rumours of his sex life and had no problem talking frankly about any and all sexual experiences he’d ever had. Kurt, who was so gorgeous Blaine was pretty sure it was love at first sight.

Not that he would ever, ever tell anyone that for fear of it spreading around. He’d been on the wrong end of gossip once before and he didn’t intend for that to ever happen again. Everyone already knew he was a virgin (hey, all-boys school was most definitely not synonymous with gay boys’ haven, especially in Ohio, so Blaine never really had the opportunity to lose it), and that was pathetic enough at twenty. He definitely didn’t need to add fuel to the fire by letting it slip that he’d entertained the thought of love at first sight.

Particularly not when it involved Kurt Hummel because, come on, how much more na�ve could he get?

It’s not that he actually expected anything to happen; it was just a daydream to entertain himself with when he was bored in class. Blaine Anderson had become very good at imagining the perfect relationships with the perfect guys ever since he friends started getting girlfriends in high school and he was left lagging behind, burying himself in books to escape from the loneliness.

He kept his head down as he heard Kurt find whatever novel he was looking for and slide it off the shelf and then walk around to the opposite side of the table where Blaine was sat, dropping into a free chair.

Blaine allowed himself to imagine a scenario in which Kurt lost interest in whatever book he was reading and instead glanced around at the other people studying. Blaine would catch his attention, and Kurt’s curiosity would be sparked by the mysterious, attractive boy in front of him who was studiously working hard. Feeling Kurt’s eyes on him, Blaine would look up from his book, notice Kurt staring at him and raise an eyebrow like Kurt had moments before. And then, in this alternate universe where Blaine actually had a pair of balls, he would smirk at Kurt and maintain the eye contact and say,

“Hey.”

Kurt looked up from his book in surprise.

Oh, fuck.

“Are you talking to me?”

“N-no.”

Kurt pointedly glanced around the otherwise empty table. “Do you have an imaginary friend or something?”

This wasn’t happening. It was just a bad dream.

Blaine shook his head, blushing furiously and wishing that he could just bury his head his book and never come out again. “I- Never mind, it just… slipped out. Sorry for, um, interrupting you.”

Kurt held his gaze (wow, his eyes are pretty) as Blaine sat, tongue-tied and twisting the corner of the paperback anxiously, wondering whether he would hate himself forever if he just stood up and fled. It would probably be less embarrassing that whatever was about to happen.

Kurt broke the eye contact, allowing Blaine to breathe a sigh of relief only to realise that Kurt hadn’t looked away. His were rather obviously roaming up and down Blaine’s body instead – what was visible above the table, at least.

It was definitely now awkward enough for Blaine to justify leaving, and he’d run away from so many social interactions in the past that he knew how to deal with the self-loathing that usually followed.

“You’re actually quite cute,” Kurt said as Blaine tensed his legs, preparing to stand. “Looking past the obscene amount of gel and frankly awful dress sense, of course.”

In his fantasies, Blaine would be able to reply to that with some sort of comeback that would make everyone in the whole of New York ooh and high-five him.

In reality, he said, “Um.”

Kurt tilted his head as if deep in contemplation.

“I’ve done all the studying I need,” he announced and shut his book with a decisive clap. Blaine thought it best not to mention that he had barely been sitting there for five minutes because Kurt was smiling him in a way that suggested the book was really, really not important at that moment. “What about you?”

“I, er… Well, it- it’s not due for a few days.”

Kurt stood up. “Why don’t you and I have a little study break?”

He leapt to his feet with far too much enthusiasm and Kurt smirked. Blaine tried not to feel too self-conscious: he was well aware that he basically screamed virgin and that Kurt, with his experience, was probably quite perceptive when it came to things like that.

“Come on then, Tiger. Let’s get going.”

“Where are we going?”

Kurt shrugged as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “I believe this is the moment when I ask your place or mine?”

He fluttered his eyelashes teasingly, laughing too loudly for a library as he pirouetted and flounced down the corridor of shelves. Blaine didn’t bother putting his book away as he hurriedly followed, only taking the time to appreciate that Kurt’s ass looked unfairly good in those jeans. He barely managed to remain conscious when he remembered that, if this was going where he thought it was going, he was going to be able to appreciate that ass in a lot less than those jeans.

Kurt threw a small smirk over his shoulder, as if he knew exactly what was going through Blaine’s head and Blaine’s heart started beating double-time.

Oh, god, Blaine wasn’t going to survive this.

It turned out that the ‘your place or mine?’ had no purpose other than to get Blaine moving because Kurt’s roommate was apparently staying in that evening and had given Kurt express instructions not to bring anyone back.

Which was how Blaine found himself unlocking his apartment, trying to block the view of his shaking hands with his body. Yes, obviously he was nervous but Kurt didn’t need to know the extent or he probably would give up on getting Blaine into bed.

“So, what’s your name?” Kurt asked as he leant against the wall.

“Oh.” Of course he doesn’t know my name, Blaine thought sullenly, normal people don’t obsessively stalk virginal dorks. “Blaine.”

He couldn’t get the door unlocked. Blaine glanced down at his shaking hands and realised he was using the wrong key.

“I’m Kurt.”

“I know.” Finally, the locked clicked and the door swung open. Blaine led him in as Kurt raised an eyebrow at him and Blaine hurried to explain himself. “I- not in a creepy way or, or anything. I mean… I’ve seen you around before.”

Kurt smirked, but Blaine thought he saw a flash of pain in his face before he managed to control it.

“Has my reputation preceded me again?” he joked.

It took a second for the meaning of what Kurt was saying to click. “No! No, I didn’t mean like that. I just- I noticed you singing once while I was waiting for a practice room and I saw your name on the sign-up sheet. It wasn’t through gossip or anything, I promise.”

Kurt looked surprised but didn’t comment on Blaine’s possibly stalker-ish tendencies as he looked around the living room. Blaine stood awkwardly, watching his every movement as Kurt shrugged of his jacket.

“Here, let me take that,” Blaine offered, holding out his hands.

Kurt was handing over his jacket before Blaine could even remember that he didn’t own a coat stand or anything which he could hang it up on – his own clothes tended to get thrown across the floor or the backs of chairs. After a too-long moment of indecision that just seemed to heighten the tension in the room, Blaine placed it neatly over the armrest on the couch.

“Nice place,” Kurt said, turning his attention solely to Blaine.

“Thanks, I-”

He didn’t manage to get the rest of the sentence out, the words suddenly blocked by Kurt’s lips.

Blaine had been kissed before: there had been a few boys open to experimentation at Dalton, and Blaine had been their go-to guy. He had experienced the brief brushing of lips and the shaky exhale of nervous breath and the awkward placement of hands on knees, waists, shoulders…

Yeah, Blaine had been kissed but he’d never been kissed.

For example, he had never been in a situation where there was a hand fisting his shirt and pressing him against the wall as a tongue invaded his mouth and he could do nothing – didn’t want to do anything – except lean back and let them take. He’d never been kissed so hard that when they broke apart his lips were left tingling and searching for more as he wrapped his hands around the other’s neck and pulled them back with far more confidence than he had ever had before.

Blaine had never been kissed by Kurt Hummel but, damn, now he had, all he knew was that he never, ever wanted to stop.

“Kurt,” Blaine groaned against Kurt’s lips.

“Bedroom,” Kurt mumbled, loosening his grip just enough so Blaine could move from the wall and lead the way to his room.

Blaine prayed that Kurt wouldn’t notice (or at least, refrain from mentioning) the Star Wars posters on his wall, the half of his bed that pretty much always remained made, or the general mess in his room that screamed no one has ever been in this room for the purpose of anything sexual other than me and my right hand.

Kurt didn’t comment as he started working on the buttons of his shirt with one hand while loosening his tie and slipping it over his head with the other. Blaine hurried to follow his lead, his shaking hands scrabbling at the neck of his t-shirt and yanking it over his head. He could feel the fabric pulling at the gel in his hair, messing up the carefully ordered hairstyle. He self-consciously patted them back into place as Kurt’s eyes raked over his bare chest.

“Are those going to come off too?” Kurt asked, nodding to Blaine’s pants as he finally unfastened the last button and the shirt slipped from his shoulders. He lay it on the small table at the foot of Blaine’s bed as Blaine flushed bright red and tried to avoid staring too openly at Kurt’s (beautiful, toned) chest. That was pretty hard to do, however, when Kurt was suddenly sauntering closer to him and threading his fingers through Blaine’s belt loops. “Or do you want some help?”

“I-” Blaine shut his mouth in humiliation as a high-pitched squeak burst from his lips instead of actual words.

Kurt chuckled softly and tugged him forward to kiss him softly, reassuringly. “Relax,” he whispered, “I’m not going to kill you.”

Blaine mumbled something indistinguishable as Kurt unfastened his jeans and slid his hand down the front of his pants, cupping the bulge in his boxers as he threaded his hands through Blaine’s hair – messing up the gel again – and kissed him. It was nothing like the kiss a few moments ago; it was passionate and full of lust, their tongues meeting between their mouths as Blaine panted with the relief pressure against his erection and Kurt pulled him even closer.

Kurt broke the kiss and withdrew his hand from Blaine’s jeans. Blaine’s eyes fluttered open as he whimpered in confusion, not liking that it had stopped. But then Kurt was falling onto his knees, pulling Blaine’s pants and underwear down as he went. He stumbled a bit as he tried to step out of the clothes, reaching forward to grab Kurt’s shoulder to steady himself. Kurt, who was kneeling between his legs, his head basically at eye-level with Blaine’s cock.

Blaine’s hand tightened reflexively on Kurt’s shoulder as he put two and two together.

The world seemed to fade away as Kurt smiled up at Blaine through his lashes. Blaine was probably gripping Kurt too hard, but he would complain if it was too much, wouldn’t he? Besides, Blaine was pretty sure that any attempts in standing without the support of Kurt would result in him lying in a heap on a floor.

Especially because his hand was closing around Blaine’s cock and squeezing lightly in a way that Blaine had never done to himself but, hell, he really should because it felt amazing. Kurt’s fingers were different from his; they were slender, longer and they gripped tighter and moved slower. Every touch was new and overwhelming, particularly the one where Kurt knelt up and took the head of Blaine’s cock into his mouth.

The moans and gasps that fell from his lips were meant to be words but Blaine could barely manage to think, let alone speak coherently. Kurt hummed out a laugh and Blaine was amazed he managed to remain standing as the vibrations seemed to reverberate through his entire body

His hands slid from Kurt’s shoulders so he could stand more comfortably but then he was faced with the awkward dilemma of what he was meant to do with them. He wasn’t sure whether resting them on Kurt’s head was rude in real life (because he didn’t think he should be taking pointers from porn) but on the other hand it wasn’t as if Blaine could stand with them on his hips as Kurt sucked his cock because that would just be ridiculous.

Tentatively, he reached out and threaded his fingers through Kurt’s silky hair. He tried to avoid gripping his hair too tightly, which was pretty hard when Kurt was exploring the sensitive head of his dick.

“Oh my god,” Blaine cursed as Kurt hollowed his cheeks.

He knew that a blowjob felt good – he’d gotten himself off multiple times to fantasies of people’s lips wrapped around his cock – but nothing had prepared him for the wet heat of Kurt’s mouth, the insides of his cheeks like silk against his dick.

He was holding onto Blaine’s hips tightly as he sucked. His nails were digging into Blaine’s ass, encouraging him to thrust into Kurt’s mouth gently as his tongue drew patterns over the underside of his cock.

Blaine wasn’t going to last.

As if he could read Blaine’s mind, Kurt pulled away, letting go of his hips so he could wipe the back of his across his mouth. His mouth was cherry red, slightly swollen, shining with saliva and twisted into a smirk as he got to his feet.

Blaine was achingly hard but he refrained from wrapping his hand around his cock and finishing himself off right there. Somehow he felt that the immediate relief of having an orgasm would be lessened by Kurt’s disappointment (and the fact that he would probably leave sooner and Blaine wanted to keep him in his apartment for as long as possible without actively locking the door and hiding the key).

The way that Kurt was smiling at him as he stripped off his jeans and briefs definitely wasn’t helping his control.

“Kurt,” Blaine whimpered as Kurt finished pulling off his socks and straightened up.

Feeling Kurt’s naked body pressed up against him was a million times better than they were clothed. Kurt’s arm was wrapped around his back, tugging them closer so their erections were brushing and sending sparks of pleasure through Blaine’s nerves, causing his toes to curl against the carpeted floor.

“Bed,” Kurt ordered softly, his eyes alight with mischief.

Blaine rocked back on the balls of his feet as Kurt pushed him gently in the middle of his chest. He fell back onto the mattress and immediately scooted back so he was lying more comfortably. Kurt followed him, through a leg over Blaine’s knees and kissing his way up from Blaine’s hip to his nipple. Blaine groaned as Kurt bit down playfully, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.

“Have you got lube and condoms?” Kurt asked, mouthing his way across Blaine’s neck.

It took Blaine a moment to reconnect his brain and nod, and then even longer to gather the motivation to pull away from Kurt’s sinful lips and roll onto his side so he could reach his bedside table.

The lube was easy to find (lying at the top of the drawer from where Blaine had lazily chucked it before going to sleep the night before) but the condoms were in an unopened box that had been buried over the months beneath the general clutter that had accumulated. There was an awkward silence in the room, broken only by the rustling of junk as Blaine tried to find them.

He refrained from letting out a yell of victory when his hand finally closed around a blue cardboard box. He was especially glad of his curiosity when he first bought them that led to the removal of the cellophane wrapper because he wasn’t sure when his obvious virginity was going to cross from ‘cute’ to ‘annoying’

Kurt was kneeling up, giving Blaine the space to lie back again. He was very obviously eye-fucking Blaine’s body as his gaze traced up the curves of his abs and across the swell of his ass, and then his cock as Blaine rolled onto his back.

“Is this going to hurt?” The question slipped out unbidden as passed Kurt the lubricant. He wished immediately that he hadn’t said it because he really wasn’t helping himself getting rid of the naive virgin status.

Kurt looked down at him, surprised. “What?”

“It’s just- I’ve never exactly done… this before.”

Fingering was territory that Blaine had covered before, but he’d never been particularly fond of it. It had always seemed like too much effort to go to when you could easily orgasm from a hand around your cock. While he was all for losing his virginity, he just didn’t really see how Kurt was going to fit when he’d barely managed two fingers.

Kurt was drizzling lube over his hand as he watched Blaine. “Yeah, I figured,” he said slowly.

“Never mind, it’s nerves,” Blaine said. “Just ignore me and carry on.”

He was blushing again; he could feel the burning heat of blood rushing to his cheeks as he tilted his head back on the pillow and tried to take deep, calming breaths. If he just lay still and let Kurt take control then it would be okay and he’d come out of this with his dignity relatively unscathed.

He heard the cap of the lube snap back into place, then the rustling of the sheets as it was dropped onto the bed and he attempted to keep himself from tensing. He always assumed that fingering would be better when it was someone else’s fingers working him open and worshipping his body.

He prayed that he was right.

It was quiet other than Blaine’s shaking breath. Everything seemed particularly still as Blaine waited with closed eyes and bated breath for… nothing.

Nothing changed. He could sense Kurt still straddling him, not touching each other and separated by only millimetre, but he didn’t reach out to run his fingers along Blaine’s legs or around his cock. Blaine only knew that he was still there because of the short, sharp breaths and little sighs of pleasure.

Confused, he opened his eyes and almost choked on saliva at the sight in front of him. Kurt laughed at his reaction but didn’t stop moving his fingers which were twisting inside his ass, his arm contorted behind his back.

“Oh.”

Oh.

“Put a condom on,” Kurt said breathlessly, nodding at the box still clasped loosely in Blaine’s hand, “I’m rather preoccupied.”

Blaine was so, most definitely, one hundred per cent okay with this turn of events.

He hastily grabbed one of the foil packets and ripped it open (while thanking god that Dalton had dedicated a lot of time to sex education) while Kurt added lube to a third finger and pushed it in as well. His head was thrown back, his thigh muscles clenching as he thrust them deeper.

“Kurt, please,” Blaine whimpered,

Kurt withdrew his fingers before grabbing the lube from where it was discarded on the bed and squeezed some onto his hand, warming it before spreading it over Blaine’s cock.

It was only a few moments until he was shuffling up the bed to Blaine, kicking away the duvet that snared around his knees.

“You’re really gorgeous, you know that?” Kurt said while trailing a finger up Blaine’s chest, stroking a thumb across his nipple. Blaine flushed at the compliment, unsure of what the appropriate response was.

“I… Thanks. You’re really good looking too,” he complimented weakly. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you for-”

Why? Blaine thought in despair as he snapped his mouth shut. Why do I have to say things like that?

Kurt laughed, though. He cupped Blaine’s cheek and tilted his head up to meet his eyes.

“I think you’re cute, Blaine.”

It was quite hard to take it as a compliment when he had reached down to grip Blaine’s cock, because when a guy’s hand was around your dick, ‘cute’ wasn’t exactly the adjective you wanted to hear.

“Now, relax,” Kurt stressed and raised himself up on his knees so obviously that even Blaine could work out what was about to happen. He barely had time to wipe his sweating palms on his sheets before Kurt was lowering himself onto Blaine’s cock, holding it in place as he slowly sunk down so his ass was resting on his heels and he was fully-seated on Blaine.

If he had thought Kurt’s mouth was good earlier, it was nothing compared to Kurt’s ass.

“Oh my god, oh god, Kurt.”

Kurt had barely shifted but the combination of the tight, hot muscles clenching around his dick and Kurt smiling down at him was too much. Blaine thought that he deserved some sort of medal for his self-control in that moment as he centred all of his attention on not coming.

Kurt leant back, resting his hands on Blaine’s thighs so his was arched and his body on display as his hips rolled in smooth circles. Blaine let go of the sheets in favour of resting his hands on Kurt’s hips, holding him tightly as his thighs tensed and he began to move fully.

Stars burst in front of Blaine’s eyes at the friction and the heat that simmered in his stomach was overwhelming.

Why the hell had he never had the courage to talk to Kurt sooner? Why hadn’t he had the courage to talk to anyone sooner? He now completely understood what all the fuss was about – and why Mike always looked at him in that slightly pitying way.

How had he managed to miss out on sex for so long?

“You’re so gorgeous, Blaine.”

Blaine’s already pink skin flushed even darker at Kurt’s words, his grip tightening on Kurt’s hips.

“Fuck, you must be so tight,” Kurt continued, his voice rough as his finger wandered in small patterns around Blaine’s belly button. “I’m going to fuck you one day.”

Blaine made a vague sound of agreement as he rocked up to meet Kurt’s thrusts.

“And I’m going to teach you how to give a blowjob, because you’d look so pretty on your knees with your mouth around my cock.”

Despite the confused embarrassment, Blaine couldn’t deny that his dick was somehow getting impossibly harder with Kurt’s words. His toes were curling into the mattress as he tensed his legs, trying to reach the pleasure that was just hovering out of his reach. Kurt was bouncing on his cock faster, his hands splayed on Blaine’s chest.

“Kurt, I’m- I’m close,” Blaine choked out, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Not yet,” Kurt ordered through gasps.

“I can’t…”

Kurt grunted and grabbed Blaine’s hand, twining their fingers together as he guided Blaine’s hand to his cock and tightened it into a fist.

“Just a few more-” he broke off with a moan as Blaine tentatively began moving his hand, quickly covering his fingers with Kurt’s own and encouraging him to move faster.

If Blaine’s mind hadn’t already been blown by the way he was being ridden by a gorgeous guy who he’d had a crush on for years, the fact that he was giving another man a handjob probably would have tipped him over the edge.

As it was, feeling Kurt’s dick twitch under his shaking hand as he clenched around Blaine allowed the pleasure that had been building up in his stomach spread through his body like wildfire as he came. He couldn’t tell whether his eyes were closed or just rolled so far back into his head that he couldn’t see as he arched off the bed. His fingers dug into Kurt’s hips, attempting to keep him from floating away.

He was vaguely aware of liquid splashing across the side of his hand as Kurt orgasmed too, falling boneless against Blaine; their chests were flush, their hands caught between their bodies, fingers still entwined. Kurt made an unintelligible noise and rolled completely off Blaine, lying on the side of the bed that Blaine never slept on, unashamedly naked.

Blaine figured that that was permission, if not an invitation, to stare and congratulate himself with the knowledge that he just lost his virginity to that.

With a slightly disbelieving euphoria, he worked off the condom, concentrating carefully on not dropping it on his sheets as he tried to tie the top. He rolled away from Kurt briefly to drop it in the trashcan before turning back to look at Kurt’s retreating back.

A wave of panic struck him and he sat up quickly. “Where are you going?”

Kurt turned back, confusion clear on his face. “I was going to leave…”

A crushing wave of disappointment hit Blaine; along with the realisation that Kurt probably didn’t think much more of him that an easy lay for the night. He’d been deluding himself again with fantasies of something more and he really couldn’t put any of the blame on Kurt because it had just been his own mind conjuring up the scenarios.

“Oh,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too mournful. “Right. Yeah, of course.”

Kurt didn’t move from where he was stood, midway between the bed and the door as he cocked his head.

“Unless you want me to stay?”

Blaine attempted a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t mind. I mean, you can stay if you want. I’ve been told I make good breakfasts.”

Please, please, please stay.

Kurt’s face broke into the biggest, most sincere grin that Blaine had ever seen as he hurried back to bed, sliding next to Blaine and pulling up the covers.

“I’d love to stay; most people generally want me to leave after,” Kurt explained. “I didn’t want to make things awkward for you.”

“No! Not awkward. I definitely like it more this way,” Blaine hastened to say. “Feel free to spend the night.”

He wondered whether cuddling closer to Kurt would be seen as too clingy. It was just that the spot under his chin looked like the perfect place for Blaine to rest his head and he had wanted to fall asleep in someone else’s arms for as long as he could remember.

Kurt solved the dilemma for him by reaching across the foot of space between them timidly, waiting for any resistance on Blaine’s part before pulling him closer.

Blaine just about purred with happiness as he found himself cuddled against Kurt’s chest, his head resting on Kurt’s shoulder with strong arms around his back, holding him closer. Kurt was naked and sweaty, there was drying come on his stomach that had been partially caught by Blaine’s hands and the clean sheets, but Blaine found himself completely indifferent to hygiene as he tried to get closer.

“My full name is Blaine Anderson, by the way,” he mumbled, sleep setting deep into his bones.

Kurt hugged him closer. “It’s nice to meet you, Blaine Anderson. I’m Kurt Hummel.”

“I know,” Blaine grinned.


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