Kurt groaned a little, rolling over as he entered back into wakefulness. When his eyes finally fluttered open, he was met with sight he’d never seen before. Blaine’s face, peaceful with sleep, was six inches from his. Kurt never got to wake up with Blaine, he was always returned to his apartment sometime during the night. The reporter laid there silently, his eyes roving over Blaine’s features—his long, dark eyelashes, those full pink lips—down to his bare chest, admiring the sculpted muscle and the smattering of chest hair there. Unable to resist, Kurt let himself trace the subtle curve of one of Blaine’s high cheekbones with his thumb. The hero registered the touch and shuddered a little before he blearily looked around, grunting as he regained consciousness.

“Hey, handsome,” Kurt cooed.

Blaine chuckled, his voice low and gravelly from sleep. “Hey yourself.”

They kissed good morning chastely (Kurt had a strict No Open-Mouthed Kisses Before Toothpaste rule). “I didn’t mean to wake you up, you just looked so sweet.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaine dismissed his boyfriend’s apology. “What times is it, anyway?”

“A little after nine,” Kurt told him after glancing at the clock on Blaine’s bedside table.

“Wait, really?” Blaine sounded a lot more awake as he looked at the time for himself.

“You don’t have to get up now though,” Kurt told him, kissing the part of Blaine’s cheek that wasn’t covered in stubble. “I’ll make breakfast and we can eat in bed.”

“Babe, I have to get up,” the hero pointed out as he sat up. “I’ve got to get going—“

“What?” Kurt’s brow creased in displeasure. “Blaine, you just got back.”

“I know, but there’s still a lot more to do and—“

“No,” he placed his hand on Blaine’s chest to stop him. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Kurt, I don’t want to go either but—“

“No,” Kurt said with more emphasis. “This isn’t even about me being angry that you’re abandoning me the morning after we had proper sex for the first time. Blaine, you had a nervous breakdown last night. You need a break. If you go back out there you’re doing everyone a disadvantage, especially yourself. Besides, you’re suit is ripped. You can’t go off to save the day with holes in your clothing, as a fellow gay male and your boyfriend, that’s where I draw the line.”

The hero laughed again and removed Kurt’s hand from his chest to bring it to his lips for a kiss. “Will you mend my suit for me? I know how much you like it.”

“Only if you stay in bed with me. I know how much you like that,” Kurt countered as he moved to straddle his boyfriend’s naked lap under the sheets.

“Mmm,” Blaine moaned as Kurt began to grind their morning wood together. “You were so good last night baby; I guess it would be rather rude of me not to thank you for such a fantastic fuck.”

Kurt whimpered at his words as Blaine flipped him over and hovered above Kurt for a moment.

“Blaine, we haven’t brushed yet,” he cautioned half-heartedly.

Blaine smirked at the warning. “Who says I’m kissing your mouth?”

And with that, the hero dragged his tongue from the hollow where Kurt’s collarbones met down to the base of his member. He glanced up at Kurt deviously for an instant before sinking his mouth around his lover’s shaft and sucking immediately.

Kurt wasn’t sure if the sound he were making were just unintelligible syllables, or half-formed words, or maybe just cries and moans, because Blaine had a knack for sending every coherent thought that wasn’t hot, wet, damn, Blaine, more, fuck, and YES! out of Kurt’s mind when he gave head. Kurt’s hands had slid down and threaded themselves loosely into Blaine’s curls as his boyfriend continued his tortuous pleasure. He was so lost in the feel of Blaine’s mouth around him that he didn’t register the sound of a cap being popped open or the sound of liquid being squirted out. However, he did feel the press of a slick finger probing at his entrance, which caused Kurt to yelp, his hips to thrust deeper into Blaine’s mouth, and his fingers to yank on Blaine’s hair simultaneously as the digit slipped into his tight heat.

“Unnnngh, Blaine!” Kurt moaned shamelessly as the hero continued to work his mouth over his dick. “Oh, Blaine that feels so good…more, Blaine, I need more!”

The hero acquiesced and inserted another finger, earning another cry of satisfaction and more rambling from Kurt. “Oh fuck, Blaine…you feel so good inside me….ungh, can’t wait until it’s your cock…”

Blaine couldn’t help but groan and rut against the bed at hearing those deliciously dirty words tumble from Kurt’s lips. Although he wanted nothing more to replace his fingers with his now throbbing member, Blaine didn’t feel totally secure yet in his control.

“Soon,” he gasped, pulling his mouth off of Kurt’s cock and swapping it with hand. He watched his fingers disappear over and over into Kurt’s hole mesmerized. “I promise baby, soon…fuck, you’re so hot Kurt…so fucking sexy…”

“So close,” Kurt keened, surrendering to the molten pleasure racing through his veins. “Oh, Blaine...YES, I’m coming, I’m coming! Nnngh, Supe—“ Luckily Kurt wasn’t completely blinded by orgasm and caught himself before he finished that thought “—I, uh, BLAINE!”

The reporter was so shaken by the fact he almost called out his boyfriend his alter-ego’s name in bed that Kurt forgot about Blaine entirely until he felt a splash of hot semen on his chest.  He looked up at Blaine, who didn’t seem to notice that there was anything wrong, and sighed in relief. After how insecure the hero had been last night about Kurt only liking him for his superpowers, he knew that calling Blaine Superman while they were intimate would be nothing short of disastrous.  He tried to brush it off and just be thankful that nothing happened, allowing Blaine to guide him into the shower.

0-0-0

Kurt still hadn’t been able to forget about his almost slip-up even by the time Sunday night rolled around. He had been able to convince Blaine to take the weekend off to recover and for Kurt to repair the suit. Kurt had condemned the damaged scrap of spandex, insisting on making Blaine a new one altogether, if only to keep Blaine around a little longer. Even though Kurt felt incredibly honored that Blaine trusted him with such an important task, he was still kind of pissed the hero wouldn’t even listen to any suggestions he had on how to make the costume less hideous.

“You know what’s interesting,” Kurt began conversationally from his sewing machine. After spending the majority of Saturday either eating, napping, or having desperate reunion sex at Blaine’s, they had migrated over to Kurt’s place so he could work on the suit.

“What, baby?” Blaine called from the couch where, for once, he wasn’t watching the news, but West Side Story instead. Kurt had half a mind to scold his boyfriend for talking with a mouthful of popcorn, but he was just glad Blaine was allowing himself to replenish his strength in front of Kurt and not put on a tough guy act like he sometimes did.

“Your cape is completely unscathed,” observed Kurt as he examined the red fabric once again, “while the rest of your suit is pretty beat up.”

“That’s because the cape is actually from Krypton,” Blaine explained, stuffing another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Really?” Kurt inquired, now inspecting the cloth with a sense of awe.

“Yeah, my parents found it in the spaceship with me all those years ago,” Blaine told him before humming “Something’s Coming” along with Tony on the screen.

“So you wear your baby blanket as a cape when you fight crime?” Kurt surmised skeptically.

Blaine shot him a look. “Don’t judge.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he retorted, abandoning the nearly finished suit to join Blaine on the couch. He studied his boyfriend, who still immersed in Richard Beymer’s performance. “Blaine, can I ask you something?”

The hero faced Kurt with a smile on his face. “Yeah, what is it?”

I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this, Kurt thought to himself. “This is going to sound weird and if you don’t want me to it’s okay and I totally get it because you were so distraught Friday night, but…isitokayifIcallyouSupermaninbed?”

Blaine simply looked at him, speechless. Kurt interpreted this as offense. “Shit! I’m sorry! It’s just when…um, when we were…you know yesterday I almost…Gaga this is embarrassing, but I almost said Superman when I was…yeah. You know I love you for you Blaine, but I just don’t want you to be angry if I say it while we’re…”

 Blaine couldn’t help but laugh as Kurt trailed off. “Kurt, calm down, it’s fine. I’m sorry I freaked out on you Friday night.”

“You’re sure?” Kurt asked, only now able to pull his gaze up from his feet.

“Well, there’s only one way to be sure,” he pointed out, his voice shifting from tender to insinuating.

Kurt caught on immediately. “You’ve got a point there, Superman.”

Blaine groaned, his legs spreading instinctively, as he reached for the remote to turn off the movie. “Go on.”

“Hmmm, but I’m not sure what will excite a stud like Superman,” Kurt mused, leaning in to whisper into Blaine’s ear. “Should I tell him how badly I want to ride his big, thick cock?” The hero whined in need, encouraging Kurt to continue. “Or maybe I should talk about how strong he is, and how much I like to ogle his muscles in that sexy, skin-tight suit of his…” The reporter glanced down at Blaine’s crotch and was rewarded with the sight of the long line of Blaine’s cock tenting his sweatpants “…then again, maybe Superman would like to know how much it turns me on that even though everyone wants to sleep with him, and I mean everyone, he wants me and only me. It just makes me want to let him do whatever he wants to me all night long and—“

Kurt felt the familiar rush of movement and color that indicated that Blaine was moving at super-speed. By the time things slowed down to a speed where Kurt could actually register what was going on, he was naked and on top of Blaine, who was naked as well, staring up at him with onyx eyes. “Superman likes when boys keep their promises. Are you going to ride my cock like you said you would, or is Superman going to have to punish you?”

“Wait, Blaine, what?” Kurt asked, dropping the charade suddenly.

“What, is something wrong?” Blaine questioned in reply, abandoning his authoritative role just as quickly.

“No, I just want to make sure…it sounded like you wanted to top,” Kurt said cautiously. “Are you sure you’re ready? I don’t want to pressu—“

“I’m ready,” Blaine’s voice was resolute. “But um, like I said, it’d be best if we did it with you on top because there’d be less—“

“—chances for things to get out of control, I get it,” Kurt finished for him, chuckling. “Trust me, you’re not the only one who’s thought about this.”

“Is that so?” Blaine crooked an eyebrow, stretching and folding his arms behind him, resting his head on his forearms arrogantly. “I’m not totally convinced you’re worthy of Superman’s cock though. Like you said, a lot of people want it. You’re going to have to show me if you can prepare that pert, tight ass of yours for my big dick.”

When Kurt’s brain had recovered from short-circuiting, he climbed off Blaine’s lap to grab the lube from the nightstand and resituated himself so he was straddling Blaine, but facing his feet so the hero had a perfect view of what he was about to do to himself. He couldn’t help but smile knowingly at the moan Kurt heard coming from behind him when his index finger began to trace his hole.

“Fuck, Kurt, put it in already,” he heard Blaine plead.

“Whatever you say, Superman,” Kurt intoned as he pushed his finger past the ring of muscle. “Hmmm, feels good.”

“Not as good as my cock will,” Blaine challenged him. Kurt looked over his shoulder and saw that the hero was stroking the aforementioned appendage languidly as he watched Kurt prep himself. “Like what you see?”

Kurt nodded vigorously and inserted another finger, loving the way how even when Blaine was being all haughty, his eyes still glazed over when the reporter touched himself. They continued like that for a while, Blaine watching Kurt stretch himself while Kurt watched Blaine jerk off, the pair only communicating only in broken moans and sighs of pleasure.

“Do you think you’re ready, babe?” Blaine inquired.

“So ready, Superman,” he assured him.

“Let me see,”  the hero insisted, gently batting away Kurt’s hand and replacing his fingers with four his own. Kurt couldn’t resist the loud moan the intrusion caused, and squeezed Blaine’s thighs to keep himself in check, knowing his vice-like grip wouldn’t cause any pain to the superhero. The Kryptonian’s fingers probed him for a little bit, stretching him as thoroughly as possible before he lifted Kurt up and turned him around. He paused to put a condom on at super-speed and then, in a much gentler tone than he’d been speaking in for the past thirty minutes, Blaine asked Kurt “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Kurt exhaled as he reached behind himself to grab Blaine’s cock and slowly lowered himself onto it. Both men screwed their eyes shut as soon as the head of Blaine’s cock breached Kurt’s entrance, Blaine trying to keep himself from coming and Kurt trying to accommodate his boyfriend’s size as quickly and painlessly as possible. After what felt like hours, Kurt’s hips were finally flush with Blaine’s hips and they opened their eyes to look at each other.

“You good?” Blaine gritted out.

“Good’s a bit of understatement,” Kurt informed him breathlessly, bracing his hands on Blaine’s well-defined pecs. “How ‘bout you?”

“Fucking fantastic,” he groaned.

“I should probably move then.”

“Nnngh, please.”

Kurt raised and dropped himself on Blaine’s cock, setting a slow and sensual pace. If it were anyone else, he’d be ticked that his lover’s hands weren’t on him, guiding him, but Kurt knew the only reason Blaine wasn’t touching him was because he was reining in his self-control, and if he didn’t, Blaine could crush him. Eventually, Blaine’s hands came to rest on the sides of his hips and he began meeting Kurt’s thrusts.

“Kurt, you feel so…ungh, there aren’t even any words for it, Kurt,” Blaine told him as they moved together.

Kurt mewled in response, his eyes drifting shut again as he concentrated on the drag of the long, thick girth inside of him. Gradually, their angle changed, and although Kurt’s legs had lost their traction on the bed,  but the head of Blaine’s cock was now pressed right up against his prostate.  He was ready to dismiss the mysterious alteration in position until crown of his head bumped against something.

“Um, Blaine…”

“Yeah, babe?”

“We’re floating.”

The superhero’s eyes snapped open, and low and behold, the top of Kurt’s head was just grazing the bedroom ceiling. “SHIT!”

Abruptly, the couple plummeted back down to the bed for a rather harsh landing. Kurt howled at the how the impact onto the mattress drove Blaine’s member into his opening roughly.

“Sorry! Fuck, Kurt, I’m so sorry,” Blaine apologized, immediately lifting Kurt off of him and placing him gingerly back on the bed beside him. “You’re not hurt, are you? Fuck, I can’t believe I…I haven’t done that since I was like fifteen…oh my God, Kurt baby, I’m so sorry!”

Now it was Kurt’s turn to laugh. “Blaine, are you kidding? That was awesome,” he assured his lover, clambering back on top of Blaine eagerly.

“Buh-but,” Blaine stammered as Kurt mounted him and began rubbing his ass against his cock. “I…I hurt you.”

“So I’ll be a little extra sore in the morning, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Kurt told him breezily. He leaned over to capture Blaine’s lips in a searing kiss of reassurance. “Now fuck me into the ceiling, Superman.”

Blaine’s eyes rolled back into his head. “Shit, are you trying to make me come early?”

“Where would be the fun in that?” Kurt replied coquettishly as he lined himself up with Blaine’s dick once again.

The hero waited to be completely sheathed by his lover’s tight heat before he told Kurt, “Okay, I’m going to lift off.”

“Go for it,” Kurt urged him, gripping Blaine’s shoulders in preparation.

Slowly but steadily, Blaine hovered higher and higher until the back of Kurt’s body was pressed against the ceiling. Blaine checked to make sure Kurt was okay once more before he started to thrust again, peppering Kurt’s neck with kisses and nips as he did so.

This has to be dream, Kurt told himself, like that time me and Superman were getting it on the ice palace. He tried to document every detail he could—the press of Blaine’s warm solid body keeping him pinned to the ceiling, the way their fingers were intertwined on either side of his head, the grunts of exertion Blaine made every time he pushed his length back inside Kurt, the press of his lips and the tingle of the hero’s exhalations on his skin, the feeling of incredible fullness Blaine’s cock gave him, the rush of adrenaline from the novelty of the position, the undeniable love that pervaded every fiber of his being when he was one with Blaine—just in case Kurt was right, and this was too wonderful to be real.

Blaine’s thrusts eventually became more erratic and his hand wrapped around Kurt’s leaking cock and began to pump at super-speed.

“Oh! Oh, Superman…Super—Blaine!  Yes, Blaine! I’m…I’m almost—“

“Come on, come with me, Kurt,” Blaine coaxed him in a low, rough voice Kurt had only heard the hero speak in once or twice at most. “Come for Superman.”

Kurt didn’t need any more encouragement than that, his back arching and erupting onto both of their chests as Blaine’s hips stuttered as well and emptied himself inside the condom.

Neither of them could even remember how to formulate words until they had descended back to the bed and Blaine had smoothly extracted himself from inside of Kurt, tying off the condom and tossing it in the wastebasket near the bed.

“I love you,” Kurt told him, snuggling up to Blaine’s side, blissfully ignorant of the drying cum on his stomach.

“I love you too,” Blaine replied with a kiss to his forehead, “so much.”

“I can’t believe we just had sex on the ceiling,” Kurt marveled as he ran his finger along the streaks of his semen that coated Blaine’s chest.

Blaine let out a tired laugh. “God, I know.”

“We need to do it again,” Kurt declared, sucking his cum-coated finger into his mouth.

“Babe, keep doing that and I’ll get hard again,” the hero admonished him.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault you have a thirty-second recovery time.”

“Hey, that thirty-second recovery time has been very good to us if I recall correctly,” Blaine pointed out fondly.

“That’s true,” Kurt conceded, “but you tired me out, Superman.”

Blaine smiled at the mention of his alter-ego. “We need to do that again, too. It was mind-blowingly sexy.”

“Mmmm,” Kurt hummed in agreement, doing his best to fight off sleep for another few minutes so he could cuddle with Blaine a little longer.

 “I’m just so glad I didn’t hurt you,” Blaine sighed, running a hand through Kurt’s mussed chestnut locks.

“You would never hurt me, Blaine.” 

That was true, but Blaine couldn’t get his father’s words out of his head: your enemies will discover their only way to hurt you—by hurting the people you care for.