Blaine pulled into the same visitor's spot and got out, shouldering both of their bags. Kurt looked around to see if Belinda was acting as guard dog over her parking space again but the lot was empty. As Blaine rounded the front of the car and made to pass by his door he paused. After a moment he pulled Kurt's door open, and grunted, "Come on, Hummel."

Kurt wiped at his still streaming eyes and slid out, letting Blaine close the door behind him. Some part of him was surprised at the gesture, but he was also realizing how vital these little things were to Blaine. He'd heard the other boy's intense struggle for words just to say he was sorry and he knew how uncomfortable his crying had made him. The easiest way for Blaine to communicate was through physical actions and part of him knew its why he'd come on so strong when they'd met. He didn't know how to just tell Kurt he liked him because when it came to Blaine, that was the only thing Kurt was sure about.

Blaine shouldered the door to his room open and waved Kurt inside. His stomach gave a funny jerk as he remembered what they'd done the last time they'd been here. Behind him, he heard the heavy trunk dragging across the floor as Blaine wedged it between the door and the dresser. His own clean and well-cared for bag was dropped onto the bed with Blaine's half-shredded one. If it had been anyone else he would have felt awkward just standing there with tears still pooling in his eyes. But for some reason he didn't quite understand, with Blaine of all people, he didn't feel embarrassed or stupid or like he was making things more difficult.

One of the dresser drawers being yanked open drew his attention. The apple from lunch was dropped inside and the leather jacket was peeled off and draped over the little fridge. Blaine glanced at him almost nervously and then shuffled backwards towards the opening in the wall where the bathroom was hidden. Blaine cleared his throat roughly, and flipped a thumb over his shoulder, "I'm just gonna..."

He trailed off as he slipped behind the wall. A door creaked closed and Kurt was alone. Well, as alone as he could get in the tiny apartment with paper-thin walls. Through the far wall he heard the sounds of a television blaring some talk show and the cling of a toilet lid through the back wall were Blaine was. His eyes drifted to the bed again. After last time he didn't feel right sitting on it. But he couldn't just stand here and let his mind wander back to–

No. He didn't want to think about it.

The drawer that Blaine had opened was still slightly cracked. He hesitated for a moment, knowing Blaine could very well get upset at him for going through his stuff, but he needed something to distract him without Blaine in the room.

It rattled slightly as he pulled it open. Apples, oranges and a couple of bananas. Nothing particularly exciting. So he opened the one next to it, and then the two on the row below. Every single one was full of some type of food–half a dozen boxes of cereal; bags of cookies and chips; boxes of fruit snacks and granola bars and just anything that didn't have to be cooked or kept cold. It was all tossed inside without a thought to organization which was exactly what he'd expected. After a few minutes of rummaging everything was stacked and ordered neatly. He felt a little more relaxed as he stood back up; organizing things always help him calm down.

Blaine was still doing whatever in the bathroom. Part of him thought he knew the answer but really he definitely didn't need to think about Blaine getting off ten feet away from where he stood. He looked around for something else to organize, taking in the thick, copper pipes running parallel to the wall on the far side of the dresser and the empty space next to the little counter in the corner beyond.

Something loud banged out in the parking lot and he whipped around. A car engine roared to life and faded away as he stood staring at the door. And then his eyes dropped down to the heavy, well-worn trunk.

He shouldn't–he absolutely should not. But his mind wasn't in the mood to listen to him. He kneeled down in front of it and glanced over towards the bathroom guiltily before lifting the lid. The hinges creaked a little as the lid swung back against the wall.

The trunk was just as messy as the drawers had been. But the contents couldn't have been more different. The top was layered with a tangled heap of clothes. He pulled them out with a frown–he hated seeing people treat their clothes badly. A few hard tugs pulled them apart and he folded them into a little pile in front of the dresser. A handful of mix-matched socks; a few pairs of boxer-briefs and boxers; half a dozen plain v-neck shirts; two pairs of jeans and a well-worn pair of Batman pajama pants. He looked at the sad little pile when he'd finished. It wasn't even a tenth of his own closet.

Scattered around under the clothes were a dozen or so books, both paperback and hardcover, but all well-worn with cracked spines. He pulled them out with interest, wondering just what Blaine read. For some reason he'd pegged Blaine as the porn magazine type. The books surprised him quite a bit as he sorted through them: Treasure Island, Fahrenheit 451, Lord of the Flies, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Hobbit, the entire Harry Potter series, several half-torn Goosebumps paperbacks...

And buried under those was a thick stack of comic books in the upper right corner. He thumbed through them briefly. Comic books and superheroes had never really been his style though he had bought into the Power Ranger craze when he was in first grade. The rest of the bottom was littered with a handful of polo shirts and a dozen notebooks.

"If you're looking for lube and condoms they're in the nightstand."

Kurt startled and twisted around to find Blaine standing next to him. Blaine's eyes were focused on the neat stacks surrounding Kurt as he continued speaking into the silence.

"I didn't realize you were so eager, Hummel. But really I don't mind prepping you up myself–"

He'd never heard Blaine ramble but he was pretty sure that's what was happening. His tone was as cocky as ever but his expression was just slightly flustered. And Kurt was certain it had everything to do with him going through Blaine's stuff.

"–unless you're into fingering yourself, but still I'd rather get to enjoy the show–"

"Blaine..."

He was blushing now. For the first time in weeks Blaine was making him blush with the thoughts he was putting into Kurt's head.

"–and once you're all stretched and wet and moaning I bet I could just slide right in–"

"Blaine!"

Blaine's mouth snapped shut, but his eyes were a little dazed. He meant to apologize for going through Blaine's things or just to say something but he didn't. Blaine eyed his belongings all neatly ordered for a moment and then circled around Kurt, pressing his back to the wall between the door and window and sliding down onto the floor next to him.

"I suppose for now I could settle for you organizing all this junk." Blaine said lightly, waving a hand at the little bit of clutter still left in the trunk. The veins in his arms popped out as he rested his forearms on his propped up knees. Warily, Kurt eyed him expecting for him to explode and throw him out in a split second. When Blaine lazily raised his eyebrows and shot him a bored expression, Kurt reached back into the trunk and pulled out the shirts. One red, another navy blue and a third white. He'd never seen Blaine wear any of them in over six weeks of knowing each other.

"Dalton uniform." Blaine supplied, reaching forward and twisting the red polo around until Kurt could see the white emblem denoting a capital D over the right breast. The navy polo had the same design but it was red; the white one had a navy D. He folded them up and placed them with the other clothes.

"Why do you still have them?" Kurt couldn't help but ask. He didn't know anything about Blaine's time at Dalton, or really anything about him beyond the here and now.

Blaine shrugged and said roughly, "They're good to sleep in once it gets colder and they still fit."

Kurt's eyes shifted to the tiny pile of clothes again. It made sense when he had so little to wear. His hand started digging back through the trunk again, but he couldn't help but watch Blaine out of the corner of his eye. There were so many questions he had. He didn't know where to begin or if he even should.

"Why did you leave Dalton?" He'd said it before he'd realized it. He almost expected the same reaction he'd gotten when he'd asked about Blaine's parents but he was surprised. An equally curious expression was directed at him, as if Blaine found his interest in him just as much of a mystery as Kurt found his past.

"I got kicked out...or expelled I guess." Blaine amended looking thoughtful, "They didn't call it expulsion since it's a reform school and all that shit but that's basically what it amounted to."

"Oh..."Kurt said softly, slowly pulling out a few notebooks and setting them on his lap. He was surprised at how forthright Blaine was being with all these answers. Maybe somehow he knew Kurt understood the same way he understood with Kurt's father. "How...how long were you there?"

But Blaine was now busy digging through his pocket and pulling out a carton of cigarettes and a purple lighter. He shoved the moldy curtains aside and cracked the window, lighting up as Kurt watched in disdain. The slightly smoky smell on his clothes and breath had given him away but somehow Kurt had hoped it wasn't true.

"About a year or so."

Kurt had completely forgotten his question at the sight of Blaine smoking and the courtesy he was doing by blowing the smoke out of the window and hanging the cigarette out of it.

"Sorry?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow and took another drag, turning back to the cracked window and exhaling the smoke slowly, eyes drifting shut. He' never seen Blaine more at ease and calm than he was right now.

"I was at Dalton for a little over a year. I went there after juvie."

Kurt's stomach jolted at that word. A juvenile detention center. Even Puckerman hadn't managed to get sent to one of those. Not yet at least. A place like that was either a last resort for kids who were extremely troublesome or a home to law breakers. The thought had never even crossed his mind that Blaine would have been in juvie. He twisted nervously now. Blaine was much more dangerous than he'd realized, wasn't he?

"I didn't kill or rape anyone if that's what you're thinking."

Blaine was scowling darkly at him.

"What? No–I didn't think–"

"You did." Blaine said tonelessly, "Everybody does when they find out."

The fact that Blaine expected that type of reaction was a painful pill to swallow. It reminded him of when everyone had shied away in fear during their first chemistry lesson. Did everyone really treat him like that where ever he went? Or when they saw the ankle monitor? How could he just accept that type of isolation and rejection? He wasn't sure if Blaine was mad at him or not, and he knew he shouldn't push his luck, but...

"Then why were you...there?"

His lips didn't want to form the word. Blaine in juvie. He'd barely wrapped his mind around it. Blaine looked surprised and Kurt knew nobody had ever probably bothered to ask for the truth. They'd just made assumptions and ignored him.

"Bunch of reasons."

The vague reply was followed by a long drag on the cigarette.

"Like?" Kurt persisted. There was no way he was stopping until Blaine kicked him out or told him. With everything that might be happening between them he had to know this before he did anything else. He had to know just what exactly his heart was getting itself into.

"Theft, vandalism, assault and battery..."

Kurt's spine went rigid. The hand pulling out the last few notebooks lost all feeling and the notebooks flapped back down uselessly.

"You-you–" He was stuttering terribly. Judging by the look on Blaine's face his eyes were the size of a stop sign.

"They knocked the shit out of me," Blaine snarled darkly, "So I just returned the favor. Unlike them I didn't have a fancy lawyer for a father to get me off the hook."

There was so much anger and bitterness in those words. Kurt could only stare at him, suddenly realizing how Blaine must have felt when he was crying earlier. He didn't know how to respond to something like that; had never encountered anything quite as gut-wrenching and terrifying.

He watched Blaine take another drag on his cigarette.

"Those things are so bad for you, Blaine." His voice wasn't as steady and exasperated as he would have liked, but it was good enough.

A humorless chuckled echoed around him as Blaine mumbled, "I'm a hazard to myself regardless."

It was the most self-deprecating thing he'd ever heard Blaine say. A dull ache throbbed in his chest as he watched Blaine stub out the cigarette on the window sill and then flick it out the window. He couldn't believe the pieces of Blaine's life that were slowly forming together in front of him. He dug the dropped notebooks back out of the trunk and something fluttered out of one of them.

Curious, he moved the notebooks to the pile he'd created for them and looked back inside. It was a photograph. An old Polaroid but compared to the rest of the things Blaine owned it was meticulously cared for. He glanced over at Blaine before he reached for it. The other boy was busy flicking his lighter and clicking his tongue ring. He snatched the photograph up to take a better look.

A cheerful looking woman was seated at a piano facing away from it and towards the camera. Her hair was dark and probably would have been wildly curly had it not been styled and pulled back. She reminded him of someone though he couldn't place who it was until his eyes drifted to the little boy, no older than four or five, sitting in her lap.

It was Blaine.

There was no doubt in his mind that it was Blaine.

He was practically a clone of the woman, who Kurt realized had to be his mother. He ran a finger over their faces slowly, taking in the untamable curls that framed his face, the less defined but no less pointy eyebrows. The only difference between them was the eyes; the woman's were a deep blue while his were a warm hazel-green. Warm and not lustful or angry or cocky. And his smile...god, his smile could have put the sun and the stars and the moon to shame. It looked so strange to him and it also made him realize something that made his heart stop.

He'd never seen Blaine smile like that. Or even seen him happy. Not like he was in his mother's arms, his face bright with laughter and his smile wide and open and so carefree...

"What's that?"

Blaine was watching him, eyeing the picture in his hand. Heart hammering against his ribs, Kurt showed him the picture. He had no idea how Blaine would react to him seeing something like this or even seeing the picture himself. The picture was tugged gently out of his grasp and Kurt sat back on his heels, watching Blaine's eyes roam over the image.

Sadness flickered in his eyes as he stared at his younger self. A sad yet fond smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he passed the photograph back to Kurt, "Just junk. Toss it back into one of those notebooks or something. I don't care, Hummel."

He busied himself with stuffing his cigarettes and lighter back into his pocket. But Kurt couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"Blaine," he began without any real idea of what he wanted to say. What could he say? Blaine was more than ready to just brush this picture off like it was nothing...but Kurt couldn't just let this go.

Blaine glanced up from shifting the lighter in his pocket for the third time and met his eyes. His stomach knotted up as he met that gaze but he needed to know. He wanted to know Blaine. He wanted Blaine to know him.

"Is this your mother?" he asked softly, tracing a finger over the beautiful woman's frozen, smiling face.

"It was." Blaine said gruffly.

Kurt's finger paused at the tense change. Was. Was because she was dead now–had been dead for ten years. Ten years he'd grown and changed and learned without her. Changed into someone completely unrecognizable as the little boy in the photograph he held.

"She–"

Kurt startled at the hoarse sound of Blaine's voice interrupting his thoughts. He hadn't expected any more information without questioning the other boy. But maybe, just maybe Blaine wanted to let him in and help him understand his life. Or maybe he wanted to relate to him with their mothers. He didn't know, but he hoped it was something good.

Blaine's eyes were unfocused as they stared at the photograph still in Kurt's hands. His arms had looped around his knees, drawing them closer to his chest. If he'd thought Blaine had looked vulnerable in that empty classroom it was nothing compared to this. It was almost like a shadow of the little boy in the photo had draped himself over Blaine. Blaine cleared his throat a little, and spoke softly, almost wistfully, "She was a concert pianist. That's one of the only memories I have of her."

When Kurt looked confused at his vagueness, Blaine elaborated, "She started teaching me how to play when I was about four I guess. I think I was five in that picture." he shrugged, looking horribly uncomfortable with everything that had come spilling out of his mouth in the last few minutes.

"Her name was Lyra." he added lamely, running his hands through his curls and looking at anything but Kurt's face.

That last statement would have been enough for Kurt to know the truth–his mother had been his entire world. Between the photograph and the most personal information Blaine had ever given him being about her he knew it was true.

And he understood it more than he wanted to. Even though his father had and always would play a huge role in his life, his mother had understood him in ways that Burt couldn't. She'd helped him with fashion and let him play with her makeup and shoes. She'd shown him how to bake his first cake and braid her hair. Burt had tried to fill the gaping hole by playing tea party and buying him the clothes and toys he wanted and not what he'd thought his son should have, but the ache was still there.

It was just the same with Blaine he knew. The wound had scabbed over but every now and again something would pick that scab off and open it all up again.

Now Blaine had nobody. At sixteen he lived alone, with some help from his grandfather from what Kurt had deduced. He was an orphan and already in all kinds of trouble. The eyebrow ring glinted in the dull light from the single lamp in the room. Kurt took it all in. The ear piercings, the eyebrow piercing, the slightly scruffy jaw and upper lip, the rebellious, dead, I-don't-give-a-fuck glow lingering in his eyes.

Was this a glimpse into his own future?

At six Blaine had last his mother. Kurt had lost his own at eight.

Blaine's father had died when he was fourteen. Kurt was probably going to lose his at sixteen.

His life was spiraling into a sad imitation of Blaine's. Everything he was feeling now, Blaine had already felt–had already dealt with. He understood the fear crawling at Kurt's insides in a way that Finn, Carole, and Mercedes never could.

A hand caught his wrist. He'd started trembling without even realizing it.

"Hey..."Blaine's smooth, soft voice felt like it was light years away and right in his ear at the same time.

His vision was blurring as a hesitant arm circled his waist.

The touch was the last chip in his resolve.

He buried his face into the crook of Blaine's neck as the tears fell fast, clutching desperately at the other boy. He felt Blaine stiffen in alarm as he wrapped himself around him but he didn't care. He knew Blaine understood even if he didn't know how to show it. The fact that he hadn't pushed him away was enough for him right now.

He didn't expect anything else from him–until he felt the uncertain hand still pressed against his side tighten its hold.

Before he'd realized what was happening, Blaine had pulled him into his lap, back resting against the wall, and stiffly wrapped his arms around him in an attempt to comfort.

The movement only made the tears fall faster because it said so much. Blaine was trying to make the effort even if he didn't know how. And for the first time he wasn't doing it for his own pleasure or gain–he was doing it for Kurt.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that. Hiccups racked his body as the tears finally stopped. A car door slammed outside of the room followed by the creek of the end apartment's front door. It slammed shut a moment later. Kurt could hear the occupant shuffling around inside as Blaine's shoulder shifted against his cheek.

After Blaine started shifting beneath him more restlessly, he pulled back and dabbed at his eyes and cheeks with his sleeve. The warm hand still tangled around his waist moved to the top of his thigh, rubbing gently.

"You know that blowjob offer still stands, babe."

Kurt hiccupped out a little laugh even though he knew Blaine was probably serious about the offer. The familiarity of the comment eased the ache in his chest just a bit.

He twisted out of Blaine's lap, and crawled over to where he'd dropped his bag earlier.

"Are we still working on that analysis?" Kurt asked, ignoring the offer. He pulled out his pre-calculus textbook and his chemistry notebook, searching for the little paperback novel.

A hand pulled the math book out of the pile.

"I'd rather help you with this, Hummel. It's much easier." Blaine said, shaking the book in his face, "If you get this done now then we'll have all weekend for some fun."

Kurt froze at the emphasis Blaine had placed on the last word. He knew Blaine cared about him in some way now. And he wanted to be close with him and do things. But not more than they'd already done. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that–or if Blaine would drop him once he got laid.

"I hardly think doing schoolwork all weekend is going to be fun." Kurt replied calmly, letting Blaine take his book and notebook and settle on the bed. Suddenly nervous, Kurt turned back to the piles he'd created and placed them inside of the trunk wedged between the door and dresser.

"What section did you do today?"

Kurt paused at the question. He honestly had no idea. The last thing he'd been was focused during his math class earlier.

"I–I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention..."

"No wonder you don't understand this shit." Blaine said dryly, rolling his eyes and flipping to the front of Kurt's notebook for the syllabus. "Did you get a homework schedule or anything?"

Kurt sunk onto the bed next to him, no answering as Blaine flipped through the pages next to him. The curtains were drawn shut like last time but he could already tell it was dark. He fought down a yawn as Blaine's voice rattled off the assignment behind him, his eyes fluttering shut at the soothing voice.

"Problems thirty-five through fifty-one, odd only....Hummel? Kurt!"

His shoulder was shaken roughly and he shook himself.

Blaine was giving him a funny look when he stood up.

"I should go. It's g-g-getting late," Kurt yawned, putting his things back in his bag as Blaine circled around to the door.

He'd expected Blaine to be moving the trunk when he spun around to leave, not physically blocking him from the door. A moment later he thought he understood the reason, but how Blaine had known didn't make any sense to him.

Something glass had shattered against the pavement outside. Loud, drunken laughter echoed through the thin wall. The sound of another bottle shattering closer to the room made Blaine glance over at the window, his eyes narrowed shrewdly.

Kurt stifled a third yawn as Blaine looked back at him.

"No. You're–" he looked agitated as another bottle shattered, followed by catcalls and rowdy shouts of laughter. "You shouldn't be driving. It's late...you're tired."

Kurt was still staring transfixed at the door when a fourth bottle slammed into it, popping the door up just a crack and shattering as another chorus of laughter surrounded them. He jumped back towards the bed as Blaine toed the door shut again and took his bag from him.

"Just...fuck...you can stay here tonight, okay babe?"

He wasn't sure he liked that idea at all. Alone in the same room with Blaine for a whole night. He didn't trust either of them to not touch each other. But the drunken laughter was still loud outside of the door and he really didn't want to see what that was all about. Especially not when it seemed to make Blaine nervous.

"I don't have my facial creams or–or pajamas or a toothbrush or–" he protested pointlessly as several vulgar swears ruptured the silence inside the room.

Without a word, Blaine pushed his trunk open and tossed him the Batman pajama pants.

"There. Go change or whatever in the bathroom. I'll change here."

"But my teeth and face–"

"I've got a new toothbrush on the sink I haven't used yet. And I'm sure your face will survive one night."

Blaine hadn't met his eyes the entire time he'd been talking, almost as if he was ashamed of the disturbance still taking place outside of his apartment. He kicked his boots off and into the corner, completely relaxed as he stripped his shirt off with Kurt still standing there staring at him.

"Staying for the show, baby?"

Blushing, Kurt hurried back to the little bathroom. It took him a good minute to figure out how to flip the light bulb on where it was sticking perpendicularly out of the wall above the medicine cabinet. Another five minutes were wasted on convincing himself to actually put on Blaine's pajama pants.

He stared at himself in the little, cracked mirror as he brushed his teeth. God, he looked like a train wreck. His eyes were still puffy from crying. The end of his nose was slightly red. His lips were dry and chapped.

He rinsed his mouth out and left the toothbrush on the sink next to Blaine's, feeling incredibly weird as he looked at the pair. He pulled his jacket and tie off but hesitated when it came to his shirt. A dress shirt was really not an ideal shirt to sleep in, but he felt too embarrassed to take it off–even if Blaine had seen him shirtless. He was too shy and modest about his appearance, and he didn't think he could trust Blaine to keep his hands to himself if he walked out there half naked.

Feeling slightly foolish as he went back into the main room, he tugged at the bottom of his shirt, staring hard at the floor as he put his folded up clothes next to the mini-fridge.

"Hummel, I've seen your dick. There's really no reason for the shirt to stay on unless you want it ruined."

He hated that Blaine knew him well enough now to call him on that. He was just formulating a snappy comeback as he spun around but it died in his mouth. Blaine was standing on the far side of the bed, arms folded across his bare, toned chest, smirking broadly at him, clad only in a pair of black boxer-briefs.

Kurt gulped instead and looked away as Blaine laughed at him. He heard the bed creak as Blaine hopped under the blankets.

"Well come on. Strip for me and get over here."

His neck and face were burning as he unbuttoned the shirt and folded it up, placing it on the pile. He really didn't want to ruin it and it wasn't like he had anything to hide. His hands still twisted nervously as he turned around, eyes still downcast. The blush was spreading to his clavicles as he dropped on to the edge of the bed.

This was such a bad idea. He should just wait until whatever was going on in the parking lot stopped and then leave. Another yawn expanded like a bubble inside of his chest as a hand pressed him into a laying position. Still, he made sure he was facing away from Blaine in the hopes that things wouldn't get carried away.

Blaine's chest brushed the back of his shoulder as he reached over Kurt to turn off the light. He shivered slightly at the warm skin, curling the blankets up around his chest, and trying to act like it hadn't happened. There was no way he was ready for what Blaine was probably hoping for right now.

Part of him wanted the arm to retreat back to Blaine's side of the bed. Another part wanted it wrapped around him as he fell asleep. He knew he liked Blaine and wanted to get to know him but god, he was still so unsure when it came to all of this physical intimacy. A second later, Blaine didn't give him much of a choice.

He meshed his chest into the curve of Kurt's back, sliding an arm around his waist, fingers rubbing into his hipbone. For once he didn't even startle at the touch or Blaine's eager lips pressing against his neck. A dreamy sigh slipped past his lips. He'd missed this; had missed Blaine touching him and just being close.

"Blaine..." he said resignedly, as the other boy ground his half-hard cock against his ass. "We've got school in the morning. We should sleep..."

But Blaine just hummed against his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the back of his neck and down his back. He felt his skin contract at the new sensation, his breathes shortening. His stomach fluttered as Blaine's lips moved lower and then up towards his ribs, ghosting over the soft skin as he pushed Kurt's arm out of his way.

"Blaine." he said more firmly as his lips moved down his side, slowly edging towards the elastic of his pajama pants. He got no response except a palm rubbing over his cock. A sharp gasp was torn from his throat as Blaine sucked the skin over his hipbone between his teeth and cupped his balls, rolling them gently in his hand.

Blaine was completely hard against his ass now and it was taking every ounce of his considerable willpower to not grind back against him.

"Blaine," he said again, his voice cracking and breathless as he rolled over to try and convince Blaine to stop, "We can't do this–"

Immediately he knew this was a mistake.

The hand on his hip pulled them together, bare chest to bare chest making Kurt's breath stutter. Blaine's other hand grabbed the cheek resting on the pillow and smashed their lips together.

And then Blaine was kissing him senseless and in a way he'd never kissed him before. It was still heavy and fast, but there wasn't the usual underlying sense of urgency and hormone driven need. There was a passion to it that literally stole the air from Kurt's lungs. He was dizzy as he pulled away from Blaine's lips, allowing himself to be rolled onto his back. Blaine's warm weight settled between his thighs, his lips nipping down his chin to his throat.

"You taste so good." Blaine whispered against his Adam's apple. Kurt moaned softly as he licked at the exposed flesh, pressing his head back into the pillow farther to give Blaine more access. Slowly, Blaine's tongue dragged down his neck to where his clavicles met. On instinct, Kurt dug his fingers into Blaine's curls, trying to press his mouth closer to his skin, to have more of the contrast between the hard bead of his tongue ring and his soft wet tongue.

"You're so hot for this, aren't you?" Blaine said softly, grabbing his hips and thrusting slowly against him.

A flash of pleasure shot down his spine as his hips snapped up to meet Blaine's. The hands fisted in Blaine's curls yanked his face back up to his swollen lips, clinking their teeth together loudly as he pulled Blaine down for a fierce kiss.

Blaine's groan rumbled against his chest as he thrust down against Kurt again. Fuck, it felt incredible. Through the thin fabrics he could actually feel Blaine's cock pressed against his own. Why had they done this with jeans before? This was a million times better than just a vaguely hard bulge sliding roughly against him through a thick pair of jeans. And–a shot of scalding hot arousal pulsed through him–it would probably feel indescribable once they were skin to skin.

Suddenly he needed more; needed Blaine pressed so tightly to him that the heat from their bodies would melt them together until they were one. He wrapped his ankles over the back of Blaine's thigh, the coarse hairs rubbing against the heel of his feet, as he pulled him closer.

"Fuck, Kurt." Blaine whispered against his lips, rolling his hips down harder. And then his lips left Kurt's again. With a growl of frustration Kurt made a move to yank him back up. He never wanted Blaine to stop kissing him. The things that boy did with his tongue should be something he never had to stop enjoying.

He propped himself up on his elbows when Blaine resisted his yank, wondering just what the hell Blaine had in mind that could possibly be better than kissing each other breathless, when a jolt shot through his left nipple.

"Oh, fucking hell." he breathed out as Blaine's lips sucked roughly at his nipple. His elbows gave out under him as he fell back into the mattress with a loud, throaty moan. Scratchy stubble was tickling against his ribs as hot air ghosted across his flesh from where Blaine's nose was pressed against his chest.

With a faint pop Blaine gave his now taut nipple a last lingering suck. Above him Kurt whimpered, hands gripping hard into the sheets, his toes curling as his raised his hips seeking some sort of friction for his aching cock.

Soft kisses trailed across his sternum and he knew what was coming next–or he'd thought he had. He cried out a string of incoherence as Blaine pressed him down harder into the mattress. This time teeth had latched onto his right nipple, biting gently and sucking hard as Blaine pushed his hips down, pinning his own to the bed. He was breathing hard when Blaine finally released his nipple, his lips tracking back up his chest to his ear lobe, which he flicked his tongue against.

Kurt whined loudly, not caring if Blaine's neighbors or all of Lima heard him at this point. Every touch of Blaine's fingers against his hips, every swipe of his tongue against his skin was making him throb painfully. His balls were tingling, and the head of his cock was begging for some sort of friction to appease the ripples of pleasure prickling through it.

"Still against that blowjob?"

Blaine's hot breath tickled his ear as he spoke. Kurt froze at the suggestion, panting as Blaine nuzzled his nose against the curve of his jaw. God, this boy...

"Please..." he begged, his voice faint as he sucked in another huge breath. He was ready. "Please, Blaine."

Blaine hummed against his cheek, kissing the corner of his mouth, "Please, what, baby?"

He knew what Blaine wanted him to say. And he also knew Blaine didn't actually expect him to say it because he was so shy about this type of thing.

"I want my cock in your throat, damnit."

Blaine's lips froze against his cheek. He could feel Blaine's stomach moving against his own as he breathed heavily; could feel his heart pounding against his own.

"God, finally." Blaine moaned, swiftly pushing himself down Kurt's body.

A few sloppy kisses across his stomach were all Kurt was aware of before Blaine was pulling his pants and boxer-briefs down his legs until they were a puddle somewhere under the blanket. He barely had any time to prepare himself before Blaine's tongue was pressed against the underside of his cock and his hands was kneading his balls. His hips jolted up at the touch until a firm hand held them down. Whimpering he shifted around, trying to seek out the warm breath he could feel expelling from Blaine's mouth.

And then Blaine's tongue was licking up the pre-cum leaking down his head, before he parted his lips and slide through hard him, sinking down onto Kurt's cock. The only thing that prevented him from slamming his himself down Blaine's throat was the hand still holding him down by the hip. He thought he was going to explode before Blaine had even started. His mouth was so warm and wet and then he hollowed out his lips and pulled back up, sucking hard.

"Oh my god, Blaine."

He knew he was shouting now. But fuck he didn't care. Blaine's perfect mouth was sliding back down his cock until he felt his head hit the back of his throat. The only thing he could do was tangle his hand in Blaine's hair again and moan. Blaine's head start bobbing up and down under his hand, each suck making it harder for Kurt to breathe. His hips were jerking slightly even with Blaine's hands holding him down, he could feel the heat building in his lower stomach and knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

The warm, steady pressure was tingling through his balls as Blaine twisted his tongue around the head of his cock as he sucked him hard.

"Fuck." he whimpered, yanking hard on Blaine's curls to try and pull him up, "Blaine-I-I'm going to–"

A deep groan quivered around his cock when he yanked on Blaine's head again. He didn't back off though, he just moved his mouth faster, sucking more firmly. God, Blaine wanted him to–wanted to swallow–

He couldn't even finished the thought as Blaine sunk all the way down on his cock, nose pressed into his navel, hand squeezing his balls as the heat curling in his stomach snapped.

"Blaine!" he shouted, "Oh god, Blaine!"

His cock was twitching in Blaine's throat as he came, digging his fingernails into Blaine's scalp hard enough to draw blood. He collapsed into the mattress, winded, his body shivering with pleasure. A soft hum around his cock, followed by a faint pop as Blaine pulled off, made him wince slightly. He was softening quickly and already getting extremely sensitive.

Blaine hovered over him, bowing his head to capture his mouth is a soft kiss. It was salty and warmer than it had been before and Kurt would have groaned if he'd had any energy left in him. Blaine was letting him taste himself again.

They kissed slowly for a few minutes before Kurt became aware that something hard was still jutting against his hip. Slowly, he pressed his thigh against Blaine's hardness, eliciting a whimper from the other boy. He could feel Blaine's arms shaking where they were supporting him above him. The difference between last time and now was startling. He was holding himself back and not demanding to get off. The realization hit Kurt hard as Blaine pulled his hips back: he'd done this to make him, Kurt, feel good and not himself. Without a thought, he locked his leg around Blaine's thigh, looped his arms around his neck and rolled them over. It surprised him slightly when Blaine didn't fight him to be on top. Of course it had also surprised him with how gentle their last kiss had been.

Blaine's hands traced over his ass and he adjusted until his thigh was rubbing against Blaine. Blaine sighed softly, letting Kurt press a few gentle kisses to his neck, as he thrust back again Kurt's thigh.

"Fuck, I'm so close, baby." Blaine groaned, pulling Kurt down to kiss him hard. Kurt let his hands wander across Blaine's arms and chest, feeling Blaine's stomach contract when he lightly ran his fingers over the sides of his rib cage. A loud gasp echoed into Kurt's mouth and his hips jerked hard against Kurt's thigh. Kurt pressed down harder, dragging himself over Blaine faster, knowing he was teetering right on the edge of his orgasm.

"Shit!"Blaine broke his lips away, turning his head to the side as he frantically thrust up against Kurt. Kurt watched his eyes slide closed and his lips part as the rush hit him. God, he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

When Blaine's hips stopped jerking up he let himself collapse onto Blaine's chest. The dampness from Blaine's boxer-briefs was pressing against him but he didn't really care. Everything about this had been unbelievable. He placed a soft kiss on Blaine's cheek, wrapping himself tightly around the other boy as his eye lids began to droop. Blaine's strong arms secured themselves around him as his breathing evened out.

He'd been wrong, he decided as he pulled the blanket up over them and snuggled more into Blaine's warmth. Staying the night with Blaine was definitely a good idea he should have more often.