Blaine slept much longer and better than he'd thought he would. There were a few hazy moments when Puck had returned, apparently stepped on the used condom and started hopping around while shouting angrily at them. Kurt's chest had rumbled with laughter underneath Blaine, and then a hand had cuffed Blaine on the head. He'd had a vague recollection of a blanket being draped over his and Kurt's bare bodies before he'd sunk back into his restful sleep, expecting to wake up in the middle of the night, but it was Puck's hand against his skull that once again woke him.

"Dude, get up," Puck demanded, smacking his cheek now. "We've got training."

Blaine groaned and buried his face more deeply into Kurt's neck. " 'on't," he grunted. "Gotta match tonight."

"So– oh, right," Puck scoffed and shoved Blaine's shoulder, forcing him to half-roll off of Kurt. "Don't know why you buy into that."

"Everyone does it," Blaine muttered, slowly cracking his eyes open and glancing up at the glitter of Puck's eyes in the darkness. "Don't wanna lose my legs."

"Whatever, man. I've never followed that shit and I kick ass," Puck said superiorly. "Beat that Czech guy to the ground last night."

"Jolly for you," Blaine grumbled, snuggling back into Kurt's warmth. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to five," Puck answered, turning back to his bed and picking up his bag. He looked back at the couple on the bed and jerked his head towards Kurt. "What about him? He got training this morning?"

"Dunno," Blaine answered, perking up a little from the sleepy little spot he'd burrowed himself into last night. He slid up Kurt's chest some and nudged the other man's jaw with his nose. "Kurt, wake up." He pressed a lingering kiss to Kurt's chin. "Come on, Kurt."

Kurt grumbled angrily and swatted at Blaine's face, but Blaine, used to hands flying that his face, caught his wrist quickly and tilted his head, moving his mouth to the underside of Kurt's chin and then down his throat. With a pleased sigh, Kurt shifted and cracked an eye open.

"What?" he murmured.

"Do you have training today?" Blaine asked, allowing Kurt's arms to tighten around his waist and tug him in closer. A satisfied hum rumbled its way up his throat as one of Kurt's hands dipped under the blanket and stroked his ass.

Shaking his head Kurt pulled Blaine down by the chin and kissed him deeply for several moments. "Not until noon," he responded. "Plenty of time for another go and then some breakfast?" Kurt asked hopefully.

"Ugh," Puck groaned, aiming a kick at Blaine's bed and making it shake. "You would find the lovey dovey one to fuck around with, wouldn't you?"

"Piss off," Kurt snapped, both hands now massaging Blaine's ass.

"Yeah, get lost," Blaine agreed, his hips unconsciously rolling with the motion of Kurt's hands.

"Yeah, yeah," Puck replied, waving his hand in farewell. "Just keep it on your bed this time!"

The door opened and then snapped shut as Puck left. Kurt's hands kneaded Blaine's ass for a few more moments, as Blaine's breath started to quicken and he threaded his fingers through Kurt's hair.

"Really want to feel your throat again," Kurt told him before their mouths met in a bruising kiss.

It took Blaine a few minutes to answer. Taking his mouth away from the slow, tingling brush of Kurt's lips, and the firm, long strokes of Kurt's tongue against his wasn't something he really wanted to do. He was shivering when he did pull his mouth back long enough to reply.

"Only if I get to fuck your face, too," Blaine whispered, heaving in a few huge, unsteady breaths. Kurt's hips shifted under his as the other man groaned at his words, their erections slotting together between their bodies. Blaine wasn't too surprised to find that the other man was already stiff and throbbing like himself. They'd only just woken up after all, and for Blaine at least it was typical to wake up half-erect at the very least.

Blaine had to close his eyes to collect himself as Kurt's hips started rocking against him, their erections sliding and pulsing against each other. For years he'd gone without this, without another person to enjoy himself with or even just to hold. Having that person be another Olympian, someone who went through the long, seamlessly endlessly months and years of training with little to no free time, was just what he needed. None of the other men he'd tried to form a relationship had ever lasted because of his grueling schedule.

For a long time they just rocked slowly together, both too content at the connect and the pleasure exploding in little bursts throughout their bodies.

"Mouth," Kurt rasped eventually, hands still clutching Blaine's ass as their hips moved. "Mouth on– "

Kurt's words dissolved into a moan, his back arching up of the bed a few inches as Blaine's brain caught up with what Kurt was trying to say. With a great effort Blaine pulled his hips back and out of Kurt's grasp, kicking the blanket off of their lower bodies and then twisting himself around so that his head was at the foot of the bed. He rolled onto his side, facing Kurt's body and pulled at Kurt's legs until the other man shifted down the bed and his cock hit Blaine's chin.

His own cock bobbed against Kurt's neck. Blaine could even feel the vibrations of Kurt's groan against his erection as he took Kurt's cock into his hand and stroked him slowly a few times. Kurt's hips surged forward, rutting against Blaine's neck for a few seconds before he gained some control over himself. As Kurt continued to take deep breaths from the other end of the bed, Blaine ran his left hand over Kurt's hip, softly stroking the smooth skin as it drifted slowly back to the swell of Kurt's ass. His right hand continued to gently stroke Kurt's cock until he was sure Kurt was ready. Then he took a firmer hold of Kurt's cock, brought the head towards his mouth and started to sink down on him.

Apparently he should have given Kurt some type of warning, because in this position and with one hand holding Kurt's cock steady, he couldn't keep Kurt's hips still. Kurt's hips slammed forward again, and Blaine choked and gagged a little as Kurt's cock was thrust unexpectedly into his thrust.

"Fuck, shit, are you– sorry," Kurt babbled, sounding strung out and dazed with pleasure as he tugged his hips back. His cock slid out of Blaine's throat enough for Blaine to catch his breath a little, but then, without a word, Blaine tugged him forward by the ass again. "Blaine– "

Kurt whimpered above him, his hips stuttering against Blaine's mouth. Eyes shut against the watering Blaine opened his mouth a little wider and let himself relax, swallowing thickly around Kurt.

Another groaned echoed from the head of the bed, and Blaine felt Kurt's hands take hold of his own cock as he pulled off Kurt a few inches to breathe. Blaine moaned and Kurt's hands started to work over him, tightening his lips around Kurt's erection and sucking hard.

"Christ, Blaine," Kurt panted, his hips jerking again, but this time Blaine was relaxed and ready for the intrusion. He swallowed around Kurt once more as the other man's cock pushed into his throat until his nose was pressed between Kurt's balls.

As he pulled off once more to breathe Kurt's mouth closed around the head of his own cock, and Blaine squirmed, gagging slightly as he moaned around Kurt's cock. Both of their hips jerked then, and while Blaine in no way expected Kurt to be able to return his deep throating gesture, he felt Kurt tug him forward by the ass until his cock slid into the tight grip of Kurt's throat.

A choked, gurgling noise erupted from Blaine's mouth as his cock throbbed and then Kurt pulled back enough to suck in a cool, shallow breath before taking him back in. He didn't even care if the noises he was making continued to escalate in ridiculousness. Left hand with a firm grip on Kurt's ass, and his right cupping Kurt's balls and the base of cock as a guide, Blaine started to bob his head along the entire length of Kurt's cock, keeping his lips tight and his mouth wet as he urged Kurt's hips to move with his rhythm.

Blaine whined faintly as Kurt's mouth popped off of him, so that the other man could moan long and low. "Trying to m- make me come first, are you?" Kurt gasped, slowly rolling his hips with the motion of Blaine's lips. He groaned again and swirled his tongue around Blaine's head, his hand stroking roughly as his lips closed over the Blaine's foreskin and pulled it back up over the head of his cock. Blaine yanked his mouth of Kurt and cried out as Kurt's mouth continued the movement, the tip of his tongue swiping under the thick ridge of his head on every downward pass.

Taking the challenge in Kurt's words, Blaine shakily sunk back down Kurt's cock, stomach muscles trembling in the effort to rein in the orgasm building in the pit of his stomach. Tongue pressed flat against Kurt's cock Blaine took Kurt into his throat once more, eyes streaming, and hollowed his lips and swallowed hard. With his tongue he massaged as much of Kurt's cock as he could without choking himself, keeping the little strokes of his tongue firm and teasing. A moan vibrated around Blaine cock, sending rippling shockwaves coursing through him as the ass cheek in his grip clenched and Kurt's body jerked and then warmth flooded into Blaine's throat, making him pull off sharply and gag a little. Kurt continued to come, streaks of warmth coating Blaine's cheeks and chin as he swallowed what was in his mouth.

He had a split second to heave in a huge breath before his own stomach clenched and his hips slammed forward against Kurt's mouth, stilling moaning and sending tingling vibrations along Blaine's cock and through his stomach. He felt Kurt swallow around him as he came, managing to keep Blaine in his throat as Blaine cried out loudly, head thrown with Kurt's come dribbling down his chin and onto his chest.

As his cock throbbed in relief one more time, Kurt pulled his mouth off of him, gasping loudly and collapsing back into the bed. Blaine flopped onto his back as well, chest rising and falling rapidly.

It was Kurt that came down enough to sit up first. He dropped down onto his belly next to Blaine, smiling a little shyly as he took in the streaks of come on the other man's face.

"Not a" – Blaine swallowed a lungful of air before trying again – "Not a bad look for me, yeah?" He swiped his tongue out across his lips and licked a few warm drops up, tasting the saltiness. "Don't taste too bad either."

"Yeah?" Kurt asked huskily, sliding over and on top of Blaine. He dipped his head and licked a strip off Blaine's chin straight to his mouth. A little bit went into Blaine's mouth, but then Kurt's mouth, open and demanding closed over his and he ended up with a mouthful of the strong salty flavor.

"Mmm," Blaine murmured, exchanging a few more open-mouthed, wet kisses with Kurt as the other man continued to clean Blaine's face with his tongue. "That's nice."

"Not as nice as a good breakfast is going to be," Kurt said, curling his forearms under Blaine's armpits and snuggling down on top of him. "I'm so hungry."

In reply Blaine's stomach rumpled loudly and they both chuckled, sharing another kiss before sitting up. Kurt yawned and stretched his arms over his head, then hopped up and started to stretch the rest of his body out. Blaine watched him, his heart thudding a little faster as Kurt grabbed one of his feet and then slowly brought it up until his leg was parallel with his body.

"Enjoy yourself?" Kurt asked suddenly, stretching his arms once more and then turning to Blaine. His eyes were staring at Blaine's waist and with an embarrassed jolt he realized he was starting to grow hard again.

"I uh, sorry," Blaine stammered, blushing furiously, but Kurt laughed and tugged him to his feet.

"There's that sweet guy from yesterday," Kurt commented, affectionately stroking his cheek. "So do you want to get breakfast together?"

"S- sure," Blaine agreed, shivering slightly as Kurt's hand casually dropped down and started to stroke his cock. "I um, we s- should shower."

Kurt nodded in agreement and clasped Blaine's hand, letting Blaine lead him towards the small adjoining bathroom.

Their shower took longer than expected. Most of it felt like a vivid daydream to Blaine, having a hard, warm body pressed against his, and a pair of hands running all over his chest, stomach, and hips. Kurt's mouth had been just as busy, taking its time as it sucking over Blaine's shoulders and neck under the hot spray of water.

Blaine wasn't used to being physically worshipped like this, even when he had had a boyfriend of a one night stand. It felt... good. And was so easy to let happen with Kurt. The other man's presence was calming and strong, but still gentle enough that Blaine found himself really trusting the other man. Kurt had pressed him up against the stall's tile wall, and slowly lathered up his curls while their hips had rocked together, their cocks slipping against each other and enjoying the slick friction.

Head still buzzing by the time they left the bathroom, toweling themselves off and grinning shyly, Blaine opened the dresser and started pulling out something simple to wear. The majority of his clothing was athletic apparel for the games, but he had brought a couple of outfits for outings. As he pulled on his boxers and jeans, Kurt snuck up behind him, naked and warm, smelling strongly of the strawberry and cream shampoo that how come with the room.

A warm kiss grazed the side of Blaine's neck as he buttoned his jeans and reluctantly pulled himself free of Kurt's arms. "Come on, it's nine- thirty," Blaine told him. "We don't have time for another go."

Pouting, Kurt dropped onto the bed and spread out, watching Blaine finish getting dressed. As Blaine finished tugging one of his favorite sweaters on, one with a thick, folded collar he headed over to the door and pulled out the pair of boots under the desk.

"Toss me my pants," Kurt called from the bed.

Blaine bend down and scooped of the athletic, track style pants from the floor and chucked them over to Kurt. But as he pulled the desk chair out in order to sit down and pull his boots on, Kurt snorted and laughed behind him.

"No, no, these aren't– I forgot you don't know– my Speedo," Kurt elaborated.

"Oh," Blaine said, his cheeks turning pink. He grabbed the skimpy garment from the floor and tossed it to Kurt. "We um, call them" – he nodded towards Kurt's track pants – "pants in America. Underwear are yours pants, kind of thing." He finished pulling his boots on and then picked up Kurt's sneakers. "I do know that you guys call these trainers, right?"

"Yeah, for the most part," Kurt agreed, smiling in amusement as he slid his feet into them and fixed the tongues. He picked up his jacket and put it on. "Let's go, I'm starving and I've got a full day of practice ahead of me."

Kurt led the way back to the lobby, checked out, and then linked their arms together for the ten minute walk out of Olympian Village and towards the busier part of Olympic Park, where there were several streets devoted to shops and restaurants. Blaine hadn't been to any of them yet, but Kurt seemed familiar with the place already as he skipped the first two restaurants and headed into a much smaller, brighter one on the corner. They settled down at a little booth in the back.

"That's a very nice jumper," Kurt complimented, reaching across and straightening the collar. "I have one similar at home."

"Thanks, it's one of my favorites," Blaine answered shyly, feeling a little awkward. This was the first time they'd really talked without anything sexual getting in the way. He was back at square one, feeling lost because he hadn't dated in so long.

Their waiter came over at that moment, much to Blaine's relief, and took their drink orders, two coffees. He was gone just as quickly, but Blaine now had a menu to peruse so he felt a little more at ease. At least until he started reading it, and realized he wasn't sure about what a number of things were. Like black pudding. He'd heard the phrase before, but he couldn't see that being the image of chocolate pudding that came to mind.

Feeling out of his element, Blaine cast a nervous glance over at Kurt, who hadn't even bothered to open his menu.

"Need some help?" Kurt offered, gesturing for Blaine to hold the menu across the table so that he could see it too.

Blaine nodded gratefully, glancing around to see if anyone was staring at them or looking annoyed by his American-ness. The little restaurant wasn't busy, though. There was only five other customers, all seated towards the front and obviously tourists like himself. They were pointing out the window at the main Olympic stadium in the distance and checking little fold-up maps.

"You're probably not going to want to eat most of this while you're still competing," Kurt said, looking a little sheepish. "Bugger, breakfast out might not have been a good idea. I um, we could just– "

"No, no, it's fine," Blaine reassured Kurt quickly. "I doubt you can eat a lot of it either, but you're still getting something so– "

Kurt's lips curled up a little nervously, but he seemed relieved at Blaine's words. "Yeah, me and my mates came here a few mornings ago. They've got a buffet with lots of fruits, yogurt, and pastries. I got this" – Kurt tapped a spot on the menu and Blaine read "Bacon Sandwich" – " as well. It's not too horrendous if you get it on wheat."

Blaine nodded, still staring at the various foods and sides listed on the menu. "All right, I can dig bacon." He squinted down at one side that really caught his eye. "What in the world is bubble and squeak? You guys don't eat, like, soap for breakfast or something, right?"

Kurt laughed so loudly that the other people in the restaurant turned to stare now. A little embarrassed at what had obviously been a dumb question, Blaine tilted his face down to hide his blush.

"H- ha hey, no," Kurt said between laughs, reaching across and knotting his fingers together with Blaine's. The contact, more than anything else, made Blaine look up. "It's– I can see why you'd think that– I did when I was little, too. It's actually... mash and vegetables mixed together. No soap involved."

"Oh," Blaine grumbled sheepishly, still blushing darkly.

"You're really cute when you blush," Kurt remarked as their waiter returned with their coffees and to take the rest of their orders. Kurt smiled up at the man. " 'Lo, two bacon sandwiches and buffets. A side of grilled tomatoes for me and– "

Kurt looked over at Blaine, who shuffled the menu, looked down at the list of sides once more and said the first familiar word that caught his eye. "Uh, toast!" he decided.

"Tea as well," Kurt added, folding their menus up and handing it to the man. "Got to give him the English tea treatment while he's here."

The man – Trevor – nodded and smiled. "Definitely got to give it a go, chap," he agreed, patting Blaine on the back. "Much better than that coffee you've got."

Lower lip jutting out a little at the negative comment against his coffee, Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but then remembered one other thing he needed. "Oh, can I get grape jelly with my toast as well?"

Trevor stared, eyebrows scrunched up in a look of half-confusion, half-disgust. "Wh– "

"Jam," Kurt chimed in. "Grape jam, he means."

"Oh, uh, yeah," Trevor said, giving Blaine a weird look. "It'll be out in a bit. Help yourselves at the buffet."

Mortified, Blaine buried his head in his hands. He knew that one, had made a point to write it down in the notebook he'd brought so that he wouldn't forget and yet–

"Don't worry too much about it," Kurt soothed, reaching back over and pulling Blaine's hands away from his face. "My dad's lived here for almost twenty years and he still calls it jelly. Drives my grandmother insane."

Kurt pulled him to his feet and led him over to the buffet, where a myriad of brightly colored fruits, yogurt, and little pyramids of pastries were waiting for them. Blaine grabbed a plate and followed Kurt across the long buffet, piling grapes, strawberries, blueberries, and orange slices onto his first plate and then grabbing a small bowl for yogurt. As they settled back at the table, Blaine couldn't help but inquire about what Kurt had just said.

"So your dad's... American?" Blaine assumed, popping a grape into his mouth as Kurt draped a napkin across his lap.

Kurt nodded, and mixed granola into his yogurt. "Yup, my mum was, too. Her mum, my grandmother, grew up in Essex. Moved to America with my granddad, then back here after he died."

"Oh," Blaine said, eating a little bit more and trying to control all of the questions popping into his head. He didn't want to bombard Kurt, but now that he'd learned a little bit about Kurt he was dying to know more. Then something that Kurt had just said caught him.

"You – was, you said she was American," Blaine said slowly, nervously. He didn't want to pry, but he really liked Kurt and wanted to get to know him. "Is she– did she... "

Kurt's spoon still in his yogurt as his expression became very solemn for the first time since they'd met.

"I– sorry, you don't have to answer th– "

"No, no, it was a long time ago," Kurt said quietly. "She died when I was six. We came out here to visit my grandmother and help my dad get back on his feet and... things were so much better here for both of us so we stayed. I got... teased a lot in Ohio, but once we came here I– "

"O- Ohio?" Blaine choked, patting his chest to help knock down the blueberry in his throat. "I lived in Ohio, near Westerville."

Kurt looked surprised at his words. "Small world. I think we lived in... Lima? Maybe? I was really young so... "

"I grew up there," Blaine said softly, his heart twisting in his chest at the thought of that place and the thought that under different circumstances Kurt and he might have met in high school, maybe even dated. "My... my parents still live there," he added a little stiffly, clenching down the rush of anger at the thought of them. "I'm in California now, with Puck. My brother and his wife live out there as well."

Kurt smiled at the admission and they both started to focus on eating. Trevor returned five minutes later with the rest of their food, and Blaine wolfed it down, trying to alleviate the painful rumbles of his belly. They both continued to eat, grabbing several more plates of fruit from the buffet before finally deciding they were done. Even the tea, which Blaine knew was an English staple but that he was a little leery of, was good. A lot more sugary than he'd expected compared to the one Cooper always tried to make him drink, but rather delicious.

They decided to split the bill, though Blaine let Kurt handle the actual money exchange since he wasn't very familiar with the currency. Hand in hand they exited the little restaurant, checked Kurt's watch and realized it was time to part. Blaine needed to head over to his arena and meet with his coach, and Kurt had training to run through for hours upon hours.

"I should– it's been amazing," Kurt told him, looking awkward. The other man bit his lip as though there was more he wanted to say but he didn't dare say it. "

"Yeah, most fun I've how in... a long time," Blaine acknowledged, swaying their link hands between their sides. A rush of hesitation ran through his mind, but he shoved it aside and pulled Kurt close to him, squeezing the other man's hand and leaning up to peck him softly on the lips. "I- I'd like to see you again."

A brilliant, breathtaking smile greeted his words and Kurt leaned back in and kissed him longer, taking his time to trace his tongue over Blaine's lips and mesmerize the sensation. "I'd like that, too," Kurt murmured when he pulled back.

"I've got my first match tonight," Blaine said a little unsurely. "I mean, if you're not too tried, and if y- your practice doesn't run too la– "

"What time?" Kurt cut in, twirling his fingers into Blaine's curls and kissing him again.

"Quarter to eight, give or take a few minutes," Blaine asked a little breathlessly.

Another swift kiss was planted on Blaine's lips. "I'll be there."

An excited thrill coursed through Blaine at Kurt's words. Kurt stepped back, out of his arms, still smiling brightly as he waved and started to jog off. "Good luck if I don't see you before!"

Kurt's words distracted Blaine for the rest of the day. While he was sitting with his coach stretching and verbally running over his opponent's strong points and weaknesses, then later when they visually reviewed several of the other boxer's previous fights, both wins and losses. Wes was rather annoyed with him by dinner time, which resulted in a long lecture during the course of the meal while Puck kept passing by, pausing behind Wes and thrusting his hips at the older man's back.

Immediately following dinner Wes and Blaine said goodbye to the rest and headed for the locker rooms on the arena. As Wes ran through everything with him one final time, Blaine changed into his uniform, and started wrapping his hands.

Above them Blaine could hear the roars of the fight crowd as the match before them played out. It was another welter weight class match, Blaine knew that much, though he had no idea who was fighting it. His head was unfortunately filled with thoughts of Kurt, where he'd be in the crowd, and if Blaine would be able to see him from the ring. He cursed himself under his breath, feeling foolish and guilty for his thoughts. He was Olympic boxer. He couldn't afford to be this distracted and smitten ten minutes before he ducked through the ropes and fought.

The final bell, signaling the end of the third round, chimed over their heads. Wes nodded to him and they walked out of the locker room together as the announcer told the crowd the final scores and winners of the previous match. Blaine sunk into himself with every step, letting Wes's hand guide him out as his eyes slid closed repeatedly. Once that chime sounded he always slipped down into himself, finding that calm center he'd once used to keep himself from running in terror whenever bullies had approached him. In a few moments he'd be using the second thing he'd learned from being bullied: fury.

For several minutes the pair of them waited in the shadows of the hallway that lead down and straight to the ring as the previous groups left. Blaine kept his eyes closed, hopping back and forth a little and jabbing. Wes's voice was muttering encouraging at his side, though Blaine never actually took in anything the other man said. It was just soothing to heard his voice during these last few moments before the bright, hot lights were surrounding him and casting spots over his eyes.

An Olympic official, one finger pressed to the ear bud of his headset, headed over to them and ushered them into the ring. Blaine followed Wes in, ears buzzing as the crowd cheered. Despite himself Blaine glanced around, surprised by the roar of noise and not entirely used to it. He'd played in front of big crowds before, but as he looked around, being dazzled by the flashes of cameras all around he realized how much bigger this crowd was by comparison. He'd been warned and as prepared as possible, but as they stopped at the side of the ring Blaine was still a little overwhelmed.

"Come on, focus in," Wes directed, half-shouting in his ear as his Brazilian opponent entered the arena.

Nodding, Blaine started to adjust and re-adjust his gloves, slowly sinking back into the almost meditative state he found sanctuary in before a fight. In what only felt like a moment Wes was nudging him towards the ring, and holding the ropes apart. Blaine ducked through, bouncing a little on his feet to test the ring's floor and then heading to his corner to take his robe of and to have a few final minutes of discussion with Wes.

"Remember what I said," Wes said sharply. "You watch that jab. Hook him every chance you get after he uses that since he tends to leave himself open and– "

"Wes, I know," Blaine replied, straightening his shorts and tank top. He opened his mouth and let Wes stick his mouth guard in and adjust his helmet once more.

With a stern look, Wes nodded and patted him on the back. "Get him."

Blaine turned back to the center of the ring where the referee was waiting for them to approach. Blaine took in his opponent for the first time as the other man turned, and the bullied part of him stiffened in anger. He was taller than Blaine by about three inches, something Blaine had learned to use to his advantage as a teenager. He was thinner than most of Blaine's opponents, but given his height Blaine wasn't surprised. His muscles weren't as defined as his own since his body was bigger but in his weight class. Still, as long as he didn't let the other man's height become a disadvantage he'd be set. With a face as similar to one of his high school bullies as this man's was, he'd have more than enough fuel to keep him going for three rounds.

Blaine nodded towards his opponent in greeting as the referee held up his hand to tell them to take their starting marks. Gloved hands raised to block the Brazilian's typical first punch, Blaine sunk a little more into himself, letting the other man's face guide him towards his past memories.

"Look at him squirm. Bet he'd cry if we hit him harder."

"Let me go– "

SLAM. Blaine's right glove took the first opening as he came back up from his duck around the first attempted blow to his head. The Brazilian stumbled back and few steps and Blaine moved in, letting the fury of that moment from a decade ago spur him on. When he'd first started fighting in matches he'd had a lot of trouble keeping himself separate from those memories, to the point where he'd get so lost in them he'd pulverize his opponent or not have enough focus to see a hit coming. It had taken several years to figure out how to keep both parts of himself afloat at once, but he'd perfected his greatest technique.

The first round was a blur for Blaine after that. A few hits landed on his torso, a another narrowly missed his head, but he'd landed a number of rough, biting blows and by the middle of the second round Blaine could see the other man was tiring. The bell dinged loudly a few moments later, signaling the end of the second round and Blaine hopped over to his corner, gratefully accepting a big gulp of water as Wes gave him some pointers and tips for the last round.

A voice shouting from the crowd completely distracted Blaine from Wes's words, though. It was high, breathy voice he was still getting familiar with by a wide grin split across his face and his mouth guard popped out of his mouth.

"– really, Blaine? There's no need to spit that at me," Wes said in exasperation. Then he caught sight of Blaine's face, and followed the line of his gaze. With a deep groan he dropped his head onto the top of rope and smacked it against it. "No, don't– why do you always find a guy at the worst time?"

Blaine shrugged, raised a gloves fist in Kurt's direction, noting that he was sitting with Puck, Sebastian and a few of his other closer friends, along with another British diver Blaine wasn't familiar with.

"All right, pretty boy," Wes griped, shoving the mouth guard into Blaine's grin and punching him in the chest. "Keep that blood in your arms and head not you dick, got it?"

Blaine made an indistinct noise in the back of his throat and turned back for the third round. The referee signaled them once more and Blaine moved in swiftly, not staying back like he had before to make his opponent come to him, but charging in, determined to take advantage of the other man's fatigue.

POW. His fist collided with the other man's padded head, but he'd been distracted by the elation of seeing Kurt and forgotten the biggest thing about his opponent.

SMACK. A sharp uppercut caught Blaine's jaw and he stumbled for the first time since the match had started. It was a fierce fight after that, both men landing a handful of pounding blows in their desperation to win. When the bell finally went off, Blaine slumped back against the ropes by Wes, took some more water, and undid his gloves and helmet.

The first two rounds had been in his favor, but if he didn't score high enough for this third one he may very well be out. Judging by the soreness throbbing along his jaw that was a distinct possibility. His heart plummeted at the thought. All of this work, years and years of training to make it this far, only to get distracted by a guy for a few seconds and throw it all away...

The referee signaled him forward and Blaine stepped into the center of the ring, letting the referee take his left wrist while he took the other boxer's right. There were a few moments of silence and then–

"With a final score of 23-16 our winner is the United States' Blaine Anderson!"

His fist was hoisted into the air as a deafening cheer swept through the arena. Heart pounding, a huge grin pulled up the corners of Blaine's mouth as he spotted Wes cheering, and his friends and Kurt yelling themselves hoarse from the stands. Instead of acting like a lunatic over the win, Blaine humbling shook his competitor's hand, and then the other man's coaches.

The next twenty minutes was a lot of noise, and a few short interviews for some of the American reports asking how he felt so far in the tournament. Puck's name was mention a few times; so far they were the only two Americans to make it through it seemed, but there were several others fighting tomorrow.

Wes met him in the locker rooms, where he changed and washed up a bit just in time for Puck, Sebastian, Kurt and his friend to appear.

"Welter's gonna have a new champ!" Puck roared, his voice echoing off the walla dn lockers in the small room. "You pounded that guy!"

"He's not the only one that's been pounded by Blaine Anderson in the past few days," Sebastian said slyly, winking at Kurt, who turned pink, but kept his head held high.

"Oh, god," Wes groaned. "Why do you always find a guy during the competitions? Why can't you find a good fuck during training season?"

Kurt's friend, a tall, attractive, brunette man laughed. "Kurt's the same way, mate. Maybe that's why they found each other so easily, yeah?"

Ignoring the entire group Blaine stepped over to Kurt, still grinning widely.

"You were brilliant," Kurt gushed, his blush darkening as Blaine toweled off his hair a little more.

"T- thanks," Blaine said, glancing nervously at the floor and then back up into Kurt's eyes. His heart twanged oddly as their eyes met, but then the moment was ruined.

"Oh, look at those heart-eyes," Puck crowed, yanking Blaine's cheek. "You two are gonna fuck again."

Sebastian and Kurt's friend nodded in agreement.

"I– shut up," Blaine snapped in embarrassment.

"Come on, let's go celebrate," Sebastian demanded. "Pub crawl is what they call it around here, right?" He looked to the other British man, who nodded.

The three men, talking and laughing led the way out of the locker room and towards the exit.

"Sorry about them," Blaine apologized sheepishly. "Americans are a little... "

"Cute?" Kurt offered, soothingly rubbing the cheek that Puck had stretched. An instant wave of calm swept through Blaine at the contact and he beamed at Kurt. Before he'd consciously made the decision to, he leaned in and kissed Kurt. Two hands knotted into his damp curls and held him close as Kurt's lips coaxed his mouth open.

"Would you two hurry up? Or at least just say you're ditching us so you can fuck some more?" Puck called. "We've got ladies to get busy with and you're holding us up."

"Piss off!" Kurt and Blaine both roared in reply, laughing a little as they linked hands and slowly made their way over to the other three.

"Shall we skip out on them early?" Kurt whispered, nuzzling his mouth against Blaine's neck as they tried to catch up. "I think they can find their way back without us, right?"

Blaine turned his face, meeting Kurt's eager lips and sucking the bottom one between his teeth. "I think they'll be all right."