Blaine loved his little excursions down into the mortal world. He always felt a rush of adrenaline every time he rematerialized in the flat he kept just for these little getaways. There was something about mortals, something in their demeanor—so urgent, so intense— that Blaine would never encounter on Olympus. He chalked it up to their ephemeral lifespans, if Blaine had less than a century to live he’d be in a rush too. Once his entire body had come to, Blaine wasted no time crossing his expansive flat to fetch his phone.

“Blaine?”

“Jeff,” Blaine switched the phone to speaker while he headed for his closet (stocked with designer clothing, of course) and began to leaf through the breadth of expensive wardrobe.

“You’re in Athens?” the demi-god presumed.

“Well I don’t exactly get service on Olympus,” Blaine answered wryly as he considered a navy Armani shirt for a moment, but decided to keep looking.

Jeff laughed. “You never know, Hermes may have finally given into the conveniences of the Information Age. By the way, tell Daddy Dearest I say hi and fuck you when you get back to that paradise in the clouds. ”

Blaine couldn’t contain the slight guilt he felt for his best friend. Only gods or the children of gods were allowed to reside on Olympus. Children of god-mortal relations, demi-gods, didn’t make the cut, even if they were immortal and sometimes possessed powers like their fully divine counterparts.  Nevertheless, Blaine looked past Jeff’s paternal resentment of the messenger god in favor of keeping the mood light. “Is Nick in town? I thought we’d make like Hades and raise a little hell tonight.”

Blaine could practically feel Jeff’s devious grin on the other end of the line. “I expect nothing less from a son of Dionysus and Aphrodite. And it just so happens that Nick got back from America last week.”

“Excellent.” Blaine couldn’t contain his own wolfish smirk as he plucked a burgundy Dolce & Gabanna top from multitude of apparel before moving on to the large selection of pants his closet boasted.  Being the son of the god of wine, theatre, and ecstasy and the goddess of love, beauty, and sexuality meant two things: Blaine always had a good time when he went out and he never spent the night alone.

0-0-0

Kurt Hummel was in Greece. No matter how many times he tried to tell himself that, Kurt still couldn’t believe it was true. Fortunately, the majestic ruins interwoven into the architecture of the city, the foreign tongue being spoken rapidly on the streets, and the vibrant cerulean sea in the distance all served as reminders that this wasn’t some just vividly detailed dream he was having. Kurt Hummel was in the birthplace of democracy, culture, and most importantly theatre and he’d vowed to make the most of every minute of this adventure.

Originally, Kurt never had any plans to go to Greece. But six months ago, as he was browsing the internet and stumbled upon a The Global Learning Experiences and Explorations program, a group that organized study abroad trips for high school students. Although he was sorely tempted by the language immersion program in Paris, something drew him to the Greek course in theatre instead. Perhaps it was because Kurt already knew he’d go to Paris in the future to premiere his latest line of haute couture, and he’d probably visit London too while touring with the company of the whatever Broadway smash he was staring in. The prospect of Greece seemed so much more exotic than other European countries.

All it took was a couple sob stories about how he was bullied in Ass-Backwards, Ohio with no escape until college next year and his father’s recent heart attack to secure a spot in the program with a full ride. And a little bragging on his part later, Rachel Berry had sent in an application of her own, including a video copy of their version of Rocky Horror, consequently earning all the New Directions a ticket to the Mediterranean paradise.

Athens would be base camp of sorts for their three-month stay, though they’d be traveling all over the country, including locations such as Delphi, Olympia, and Epidaurus.

Kurt was unwinding after a whirlwind of sightseeing earlier that day. They’d visited the Parthenon, the Acropolis, the Hellenic Parliament, the Zappeion, Monastiraki Square…and a lot of other places that Kurt couldn’t recall by name but had made sure to take copious amount of photographs of. After such a long day of sun exposure, Kurt was ready to whip out his organic avocado-mango facemask and then maybe Skype with his father and Carole for a bit before getting a full eight hours of restorative beauty sleep so he’d be ready for another hectic day of touring.

At least, that was the plan until he heard a knocking on the door of his tiny room at the G.L.E.E. (the irony of the acronym was not lost on him) headquarters where they were staying and Puck’s voice telling him that he should start getting man-pretty right about now, because they were leaving to go clubbing at ten.

0-0-0

“So how was Vegas, Nick?” Blaine asked as filled three flutes of champagne in the backseat of the limo driving them to their first club of the night.

“Sinful as ever,” the brunette demi-god replied, accepting the glass Blaine handed to him. “I hit up the new Playboy Club at the Palms.”

“And…?” Jeff pressed.

“Better than the sixties,” Nick raved before taking a swig of his drink.

“I find that hard to believe,” Blaine disputed. “I had a very memorable weekend in Chicago back in sixty-one that I feel would be difficult to top.”

“Well, not everyone can get all the hottest chicks in the room to sleep with themselves and each other just by batting our eyelashes,” Nick pointed out enviously, though his tone was friendly and playful. He wished that his father, the minor sea god Thaumas, had bequeathed to him more than just the ability to hold his breath underwater indefinitely and speedy swimming along with his immortality.

Blaine shrugged. “I got just lucky on my parentage, that’s all.”

They limo had eased to a stop, and while the three men waited for the chauffeur to get the door, Jeff inquired, “Speaking of which, how many are you going for tonight Blaine?”

“Well last time I had six, but I got bored pretty quickly,” he remarked as the trio exited the car, recalling the shower party he’d had with six beautiful mortal women last time he visited Athens.

“Ugh, to be one of Aphrodite’s kids,” Nick muttered.

“So tonight I’m probably going to need at least eight,” Blaine ruminated as they sauntered past the long line of mortals waiting to enter the club. The bouncer recognized them and let them past the velvet rope without hesitation. “Maybe I’ll pick up a couple guys this time, you know, just keep an open mind and pick up whatever strikes my fancy.”

“You’re worse than Priapus, you know that right?” Jeff teased.

“What can I say? I’m better looking and by no means have an aversion to ass,” Blaine joked. All three men burst into laughter that was quickly drowned by a blaring hip-hop beat as they entered.

To Blaine, partying was a just a routine activity to stay healthy, much like how mortals brushed their teeth or jogged every morning. It seemed counterintuitive, but Blaine never felt more calm than when he was immersed the frantic energy of a discotheque. He had his father to thank for that. On the other hand, Blaine could thank his mother for his ability to seduce as if sex was a sport. The god fancied himself a sort of collector, he would scope out the patrons of the nightclub, and then select and obtain the establishment’s most alluring mortals, bringing them home for his own personal pleasure. Not that Blaine was a selfish lover by any means, he enjoyed causing orgasms just as much as he enjoyed having them, yet sex came so naturally to him that he needed multiple partners at once just to keep him engaged during the act.

Fifteen minutes and a quarter of a liter of vodka later, Blaine had spotted his first mortal of the night.

0-0-0

Rachel Berry had promised herself that she wouldn’t do this. She was in a gorgeous country to perfect her craft of performance, but all she could think about was how Finn hadn’t asked her to dance with him. He had asked Quinn. Rachel would just have to get it through her head that it would always be Quinn, no matter how pretty she tried to look tonight. And for once Rachel did feel really pretty, hot even.  Kurt and Santana had doubled-teamed her, doing her up like that one time when she had dressed really slutty to try to get Finn’s attention back in sophomore year. Maybe that was the problem, Finn had called her a clown hooker the last time she had looked like this, but she needed all the makeup and hair styling, she wasn’t naturally beautiful like Quinn and it wasn’t fair that—

Oh. Hello. The name Finn Hudson sailed straight out of Rachel’s troubled head as soon as she caught a glimpse of the man walking towards her. Actually it was more like he was stalking her, like a predator approaching his prey…and although it kind of terrified her, Rachel liked it.

The man eyed her appreciatively, and Rachel’s body reacted in several ways simultaneously. Her frame shivered, her cheeks flushed, her pupils dilated, and her womanhood began to moisten in anticipation of what this man could do to her, how she knew he could make her feel.

He stopped a foot or two away from her, holding out a hand and asking to dance with her. She accepted before he could finish the question, which caused the man to chuckle slightly.

“What’s your name?” he breathed in her ear once she had put her hand in his and he’d pulled her flush against his body.

“R-Rachel,” she panted in reply, stunned that it had taken so much mental effort to remember her own name. “Yours?”

“Blaine,” he told her as his hands slid southwards to cup her butt and mold her body to his so he could grind his growing hardness into Rachel.

“Oh, Blaine,” she keened. Normally, back in the States, this would be too much too soon. Rachel wouldn’t have hesitated in swatting the pervert’s hands away from her derrière and put some space in between them so she wouldn’t have to feel that pressing into her hip. But this was different. Blaine was so beautiful, and the way he looked at her with those eyes made her feel beautiful…how did she get so wet so quickly? Was this guy some sort magician? Rachel quickly dismissed her own inquiry, instead focusing on what a romantic anecdote this would make for her E! True Hollywood Story. She and Blaine would fall in love after only a single night together and they’d get married and have vaguely Eurasian looking children and Finn would be so jealous—

“Do you have any friends here, Rachel?” Blaine cooed into her ear. “Any that are a fraction as beautiful as you are, that is.”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically at Blaine’s request. “There’s Santana and Brittany and I can probably even get Quinn to leave Finn…”

“How about you go get them and meet me over at the bar?” suggested Blaine. “Then we can all get to know each other better.”

“Yes, Blaine,” Rachel replied eagerly. “I’d like that very much.”

Blaine smiled and softly brushed his lips against hers before telling her, “Me too” and sending Rachel on her merry way.

0-0-0

Blaine chuckled to himself as he watched Rachel’s pert little ass hurry away to go retrieve her friends. Sometimes mortals are just too easy, he thought to himself as he made his way over to the bar, all the dancers accidentally-on-purpose brushing themselves against Blaine, but he was so used to it he barely noticed. He reached the bar and ordered another Smirnoff, checking to see if Rachel had returned with her friends. Blaine ended up scanning the crowd once again, Rachel was bringing a maximum of three girls, and if he approved of them that would put him up to four, which meant he would need another four more before…

Blaine’s eyes froze and fixed on a male sitting alone on one of the couches in the back right corner of the club, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight of him. He was easily the most beautiful creature Blaine had laid eyes on, and after multiple millennia of existence, that was really saying something. He couldn’t be a mortal, could he? Perhaps a demi-god. But as Blaine drank in his features he couldn’t help but notice how nymph-like they seemed, maybe he was the son of a satyr and a nymph, that could explain the breathtaking boy’s appearance. He had to find out. Blaine had to make him his. His cock twitched in earnest for the first time that night at the flood of images of him and the boy making steamy, hot passionate love all night long.

The god was shaken out of his reverie by Jeff’s hand clapping his shoulder. “How’s it going so far? Can I get a tally?”

Blaine didn’t hear what Jeff said, but turned to address him. “Jeff. Any second now a girl and two, maybe three, of her friends are going to come looking for me. Take them off my hands. You can have them all to yourself, or share the ones you don’t want with Nick, but either way I don’t want them,” he stole a glance at the boy to make sure he was still there. He exhaled quickly in relief to find that he was and continued to speak at a brisk pace, anxious because the boy was just sitting there, so available to any mortal scum unworthy of his beauty. “They’re still under my influence so just tell them I told you that you’re going to take care of them and they’ll be yours ‘til morning. Also, bring the limo up.”

Somewhere in the back of his consciousness Blaine recognized that he had just been very rude to his best friend, but he couldn’t be bothered with manners at a time like this. Unlike most mortals nowadays, Blaine had never bothered limiting his sexual preferences to one gender. Sure, he’d been on a female orgy kick lately, but that didn’t mean Blaine was going to miss out on seducing the stunning young man into his bed.

He swiftly approached the couch the boy was slumped on. His eyes were downcast and Blaine could tell that the young man wasn’t enjoying himself very much. Blaine vowed to change that as soon as possible. But first, he had to clear a few things up.

“Are you an immortal?” Blaine asked the boy in his native tongue of ancient Greek.

The boy’s head snapped up and Blaine very nearly staggered back at the intensity and brilliance of his eyes. The boy faltered for a second before asking in English, “What?”

Blaine repeated the question.

“I’m sorry, I can’t speak Greek,” he replied with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. So he’s a mortal after all, he marveled to himself. All immortals whether Olympian, god, demi-god, or creature could converse in ancient Greek. It was their code, the language had long been altered and updated, and immortals were the only ones who had existed when it had been the vernacular.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine apologized, switching into English flawlessly. “Would you like some company?”

Now it was the boy’s turn to look incredulous. “You want to keep me company?”

“If you’ll have me,” Blaine told him, flashing the boy a grin that never failed in charming the object of his attention.

Even in the dim lighting of the club, Blaine could tell that the boy was blushing. “Um, okay sure, I mean if you don’t have anything better to do.”

“I don’t,” Blaine replied resolutely, promptly taking the seat next to him. He extended his hand. “I’m Blaine.”

“Kurt,” the boy said, taking Blaine’s hand. Both men couldn’t resist the minute shiver that the handshake caused. “Kurt Hummel.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Kurt Hummel,” Blaine crooned, not releasing Kurt’s hand but pressing his lips to it. His dick twitched yet again at the mouth-to-skin contact and Blaine couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to cover every centimeter of Kurt’s immaculate skin with his lips, his tongue, his teeth…

Kurt’s face flushed a deeper shade of red and he let out a bashful chuckle. “I…yeah, nice to meet you too.”

 He is just too cute, Blaine thought, if he’s this inarticulate now, he’s going to be an absolute mess when I’m pounding into him.

“Listen, it’s really loud in here,” said Blaine. “How about we go somewhere more intimate and learn a little more about each other?”

“Intimate?” Kurt squeaked.

“There’s a café just down the street from here, I thought it’d be a good place to talk.”

Kurt visibly relaxed once Blaine clarified himself and allowed the god to help him up. “Oh-okay, just let me say goodbye to my friends.” 

Blaine waited by the exit of the club, instructing the limo to wait outside of the café instead of the club, while Kurt found a very disgruntled and lonely Finn and told him he was leaving.

“There you are,” Blaine beamed once Kurt emerged from the club. “The café’s just a short walk away.”

Kurt consented and gladly accepted Blaine’s outstretched hand as he led the way. They began chatting straightaway, Blaine listening intently as Kurt told him about the program he was participating in and how his glee club had been able to join in on the experience. He was delighted to learn that Blaine was very passionate about theatre, which launched a conversation revolving around their favorite Broadway musicals.

“I feel like I’m talking too much,” Kurt said as he sipped his cappuccino. “What about you? What’s your story?”

Blaine altered his usual cover story when Kurt had informed him that he was only seventeen.  The god told the teenager that he was a twenty-one-year-old student at the University of Athens studying Greek Archeology and Mythology. He also mentioned that he was born and raised in Greece, and that he was the son of two very powerful but very disinterested business executives.

“Wow, that must stink that you parents basically ignore you,” Kurt remarked. “Don’t you ever get lonely?”

“Nah. I have a good group of friends,” Blaine explained, reaching across the table to take Kurt’s hand in his again, “and sometimes I get lucky and run into beautiful American boys, so I can’t complain.” The flush returned to Kurt’s alabaster skin. “You are truly exquisite, Kurt. I can’t believe I’m the first one to see it. I don’t want to offend you, but I think there might be a bit of truth behind the dumb-American stereotype.”

“Well, look at you. You’re practically a Greek god,” Kurt mumbled.

“Speaking of which, you sure you don’t have any Greek blood in you?” inquired Blaine. Perhaps Kurt was a descendant of demi-god or a nymph that had mated with a mortal. “I know Americans are usually mixes.”

“Not that I know of,” Kurt answered. “I’m pretty sure I’m just Dutch and Irish. I thought the ghostly white complexion was a dead giveaway.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your skin is smoother and more beautiful than any of the marble statues in Athens’ museums,” Blaine insisted, his fingers trailing up the length of Kurt’s arm, “and it’s warmer…and softer…”

Kurt was panting now, he had always lauded the romantic nature of the touch of the fingertips, but when they were Blaine’s fingers caressing him, suddenly fingertips felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

“Let’s get out of here,” Blaine growled, fishing out more than enough money to cover their coffee before pulling Kurt behind him out of the café. The limo was idling at the curbside when they left the bistro.

Miraculously, Blaine remembered his manners this time and opened the door for Kurt and joined him inside the limo a moment later. Their lips crashed together hungrily in a passionate first kiss. Blaine wasted no time in deepening the kiss, scooping Kurt into his lap so their rapidly hardening cocks could rub against one another through the fabric of their pants.

“Blaine,” Kurt exhaled, trying to get the older man’s attention as he dropped his kisses the American’s neck and began to knead his ass. “Blaine.”

“Mmmm?” Blaine really couldn’t be bothered at the moment, he was busy sucking the first of many hickeys into Kurt’s skin to mark him as his own.

“Can we…can we just—“

Blaine removed his lips from the teenager’s and looked up to make eye contact. “What is it?”

“It’s just…I’ve nev—I don’t…”Kurt stammered, too humiliated to articulate what he was trying to say.

The frightened glint in Kurt’s eyes said it all. “Holy Hera, you’re a virgin, aren’t you?” The younger man nodded in shameful confirmation.

“That’s okay baby,” Blaine comforted him, giving Kurt a quick pat on the behind before dragging his fingers up Kurt’s sides to the first button his shirt and popping it open. “I love virgins…you’re always so tight…”

“Buh-but,” Kurt protested, his hands stilling Blaine’s, which were working on the next button his shirt, “I don’t know the first thing about sex.”

 “How about I teach you what I know?” Blaine proposed suggestively, bucking his hips up. Kurt whimpered at the contact. It would be so easy for Blaine to unleash the power of his hazel orbs on the boy, effectively turning him into a pliant piece of flesh the god could play with all night long. In fact, Blaine was surprised that he hadn’t already, he never bothered to get to know the mortals he fucked. To the Greek, ‘get to know’ really meant ‘pound your brains out’. Yet, somehow Kurt wasn’t like other mortals. Blaine actually felt guilty for considering utilizing his heightened powers of seduction on the boy. “Or I could just take you back to where you’re staying, I don’t want to take advantage of you, Kurt.”

“No, no, I want this.” Kurt assured him. “But it’s just you’re obviously pretty experienced and I’m…not…so I’m just worried that I won’t be very, you know, good.”

Blaine raised a thick eyebrow. This kid just got more and more adorable by the second. “Has anyone ever told you worry too much?”

“Yes,” Kurt confessed.

“Well tonight I want you to make me a promise,” Blaine began, “I want you promise me that you won’t worry, fret, second-guess— you know what, make that think in general. I only want you to feel. The best sex happens when you just let go and listen to your body, not your mind. Do you think you can promise me that, Kurt?”

Kurt nodded dumbly in agreement.

“Good,” the god grinned. “And I promise I’ll take care of you, I’ll make this the best night of your life, give you the first time you deserve. How does that sound?”

“Guh-good,” Kurt spluttered, his throat suddenly dry.

Blaine’s smile widened, exposing a set of perfect white teeth, and if it wasn’t for the tender words that came just before, the grin would have come across as malicious to Kurt. “Now where were we?”

Blaine immediately reconnected his lips and resumed the grinding of their hips, basking in the divine friction as he continued to unbutton Kurt’s shirt. He paused for a moment to admire the expanse of ivory skin and toned muscle he had just revealed, before diving in again trailing open-mouthed kisses and nips from Kurt’s collarbone down to his left nipple.

“Oh my God, Blaine!” Kurt shrieked when the deity scraped his teeth over the bud, then worried over the nub with his tongue. He was about to give its twin the same treatment when he heard the car door open. Blaine smashed his lips to Kurt’s, tightening his grip on the mortal’s ass to support him as he scooted out of the seat and exited the limo, blindly but accurately navigating them inside the high-rise he resided in, the doorman not fazed in the slightest that Blaine had a partially unclothed boy wrapped around him as he entered the building. In fact, it had become his signature arrival. However, the doorman was surprised to see that Blaine only had one lover accompanying him.

The silence of lobby was disturbed by the sound of suction, moaning, and footsteps as Blaine and Kurt crossed the space, the elevator doors immediately sliding open when Blaine jabbed the button to summon it. He wedged Kurt between the paneling of the elevator and the solid frame of his body, nibbling on his ear and allowing his hands to roam Kurt’s bare torso.

“Impeccable,” Blaine breathed.

Kurt rucked up Blaine’s shirt, exposing the god’s chiseled abdomen. Thankfully he gulped before the little dribble of drool could escape his mouth. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Blaine laughed darkly, whispering “I can’t wait to be inside of you” and giving the mortal’s ass a squeeze.

Kurt tried to formulate a coherent response but it seemed that he had forgotten how to make words.

They had reached top floor, which housed Blaine’s penthouse apartment. Kurt automatically tightened his grip around Blaine’s neck and torso, so the god could carry him to the bed. He set the American down gently on his king-sized bed, pushing Kurt’s shirt down his shoulders and pulling his own top over his head. Immediately, Kurt’s hands found Blaine’s chest and he raked his fingers up and down the ripples of his lover’s torso, moaning appreciatively at the contrast of the softness of his chest hair and the firmness of the muscle. Blaine’s fluttered closed at the touch of Kurt’s slender fingers on his skin, his cock was beginning to truly ache from the lack of stimulation. Usually at the point in the evening he was being expertly blown or at the very least had a hand or two on his cock. But the exploration and worship of each other’s bodies was satisfying in a different way, there was more build up, more purpose behind every movement than Blaine was accustomed to when he had sex. Still, he needed to be buried into Kurt’s ass sooner rather than later or he might die from the aching anticipation.

Kurt leaned in to capture Blaine’s lips again, and as their tongues tangled together, Blaine reached down to drop his pants and step out of his shoes. As soon as Kurt heard the rustle of clothing along he broke the liplock, unable to resist the opportunity to ogle the god’s nude form. Blaine didn’t fight him, in fact straightened up so the mortal could get the full view. It amused the deity to watch the range of Kurt’s reactions to his naked body. First there was curiosity and the slightest bit of guilt as the boy surrendered and dropped his gaze to stare at Blaine’s cock. Next came disbelief at the size of Blaine’s member, the god had to stifle a laugh when his jaw actually dropped, before his azure eyes darkened and look of lust settled in. However, Blaine noted that Kurt was chewing his lip, the move betrayed nervousness at the size of Blaine’s cock that only a virgin would have.

Blaine swaggered over to Kurt on the bed, and eased him down to a supine position amongst the luxurious bedding.

“Don’t worry,” Blaine murmured, his hand deftly undoing Kurt’s belt and fly, gently tugging the boy’s skin-tight trousers down the length of his long, lithe legs, slipping off his shoes as well. “I promised to take care of you, remember?”

Kurt responded wordlessly, simply nodding his head. Blaine hoisted himself back up to kiss Kurt sweetly, his hand wrapping around the mortal’s cock and began to stroke him lightly.

“You’re absolute perfection, do you know that, Kurt? I’ve never seen anything like you in all my years,” he purred as his hand moved steadily.

This time when Kurt sank his teeth into his bottom lip, it had nothing to do with fear. “I…I-I…Blaine…not going to last…”

The god stopped his ministrations, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and reaching over to the nightstand for small clear vial filled with a pinkish sort of liquid. Kurt eyed his lover warily as he dipped his finger into the bottle, wetting the digit with the viscous substance.

“Spread your legs, gorgeous,” Blaine ordered him tenderly. He noticed a flash of apprehensiveness flicker in the boy’s bottomless blue orbs again but the god assured him, “Trust me, it doesn’t hurt when I use this.”

Kurt obeyed his lover, parting his thighs and scooting forward slightly, giving Blaine better access to his entrance. He braced himself for the burn and sting he expected but when Blaine’s finger traced his puckered hole and dipped inside, the subsequent stretch felt nothing less than divine.

“Blaaaaaaaaaaaine,” Kurt keened loudly, so low and debauched that he barely recognized his own voice.

“Told you,” Blaine chuckled, moving the finger a few times to allow Kurt to adjust to the intrusion before coating another finger with the fluid and slipping them back inside the boy’s heat. “You look so beautiful like this, Kurt, so beautiful.”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt gasped as the god continued to scissor and stretch him, “it feels so good. Only you can make me feel this way…”

“That’s right,” Blaine said, adding a third finger into Kurt, trying to avoid his prostrate in his ministrations so the mortal wouldn’t be tempted to climax early. “Only me, no one will ever be able to pleasure you the way I can.”

“Nnnngh, I need you, please make love to me Blaine,” Kurt sobbed, delirious with desire.

“Prep me, baby,” Blaine commanded him, though his tone stayed warm and gentle. The god straddled the boy’s chest, pressing the flask of lubricant into his palm. Kurt didn’t miss a beat, he hastily poured an ample amount of bottle’s contents into his hand and gripped Blaine’s cock. “That’s a good boy, Kurt, get me ready for that pretty virgin ass of yours.”

Although Blaine could spend the entire night reveling in the feel of the American’s hand pumping his shaft, after his cock was sufficiently smothered with lube, Blaine nudged Kurt’s hand away and moved to line his dick up with the mortal’s entrance.

“Are you ready, Kurt?” Blaine asked as he slung one of the boy’s dancer’s legs over his shoulder to open him up even more. “Are you ready for me to make love to you?”

“Yes, Blaine, please,” begged Kurt.

The god pushed his cock in inch-by-inch, choking on his own breath as his penis was engulfed by a tightness that Blaine didn’t think was possible. Kurt let out a low, drawn out moan as Blaine filled him to the hilt, enraptured by the sensation of the Greek’s manhood stretching him more than he could have ever imagined.

“Gods, Kurt,” Blaine groaned. “You feel incredible…so fucking tight…”

Kurt made a little airy sound in acknowledgement. Blaine placed a hand on the leg that was draped over his shoulder, than intertwined the other with Kurt’s and began to move slowly first, enjoying the drag of his cock along that extraordinary tightness as he thrust in and out of Kurt. But then Blaine skimmed his prostrate, causing the mortal to clench around him, and it took all of the god’s willpower not to come then and there. Instead, Blaine fell forward, burying his head in the crook of Kurt’s shoulder, and began drive himself into his lover harder and faster than before. He really wanted to maintain the perfect gentlemanly lover persona, but it was nearly impossible to uphold when Kurt was meeting his thrusts, making the most delicious sounds, and clamping down on his dick every time it brushed that special spot of his.

Blaine licked the sweat from the side of Kurt’s neck in flat, broad strokes of his tongue as he kept fucking Kurt, continuing the hammer the boy’s prostrate. He sent the mortal over the edge by panting “Come, Kurt, come for me like the beautiful creature you are.”

The American was all too willing to comply, his body and spasming and with an ecstatic cry, his seed spurted across both their chests. The contraction of Kurt’s muscles as he climaxed brought Blaine to the edge, his cum filling his lover’s insides in a powerful deluge.

Both men lay there, trying to regain a semblance of steady breathing as they recovered from their orgasms. After a minute or two, Blaine carefully extricated his now soft cock from Kurt’s hole, settling next to him and sloppily swiping the sheet across their soiled chests. The brush of fabric on his skin roused Kurt slightly from his post-coital daze. He rolled on his side to face Blaine.

The mortal opened his mouth, searching for the words that could even begin to describe his satisfaction, but Blaine seized his lips before Kurt could make a sound. But, somehow, the kiss communicated exactly what Kurt had wanted to say better than any words could have. He simply sighed dreamily, allowing Blaine to pull his body against his, feeling the god’s muscled arms wrap around him before he drifted off to sleep.