"Look at that ass!" Puck roared as they all stumbled out of the pub later that night and into the street. It was after midnight, and Puck, Sebastian, and Kurt's friend, Tom, were all plastered. Blaine felt a little tipsy himself, but nothing compared to his friends. Kurt was by his side as they followed the other three men out into the street and back towards Olympic Village. He was really going to regret this in a few hours when he had to be up for training, but as Kurt's fingers laced through his he knew he'd made the right decision for his celebration tonight.

He'd help Puck and Sebastian back to their building and then assist Kurt in carrying Tom up the stairs. The younger man, the youngest of their group, didn't seem quite as experienced with alcohol as they were. He was tottering back and forth in front of them, looking very unstable. Reluctantly, Blaine let go of Kurt's hand and slung a supporting arm around Tom's waist. Kurt slid in on the other side, and the two of them half dragged Tom the rest of the short walk to Olympic Park.

Puck and Sebastian were already catcalling at a few girls across the courtyard, and went charging ahead.

"Shouldn't you follow them?" Kurt asked him.

"Nah, they've been a lot worse before," Blaine assured him, watching the two get turned down and then start stumbling towards their building. "They'll make it upstairs all right." He shrugged his shoulder and jostled Tom, who groaned loudly. "Unlike this guy. He's not much of a drinker is he?"

Kurt shook his head, and lead the way into the first building on the left. The security guards said nothing about the state of Tom as Blaine signed himself in and then helped Kurt lug the younger man down the hall to the right and all the way to the end.

Tom slumped forward onto his bed once they were in the room, and Kurt took a few moments to remove the other man's shoes and socks while Blaine dropped the little trash can by the side of the bed.

"Just in case," he told Kurt, who nodded his agreement.

"I'm almost tempted to drop him in the bathtub," Kurt said. "Then we won't wake up to the sound of him being sick."

A twang like an elastic band vibrated in Blaine's chest at his words. Kurt expected him to stay the night with him.

"Well, if we're," Blaine cleared his throat and pointedly stepped a little closer to Kurt, "not going to spend the whole night sleeping, then that's probably a good idea."

"We could do that," Kurt said a little breathlessly as Blaine looped his arms around Kurt's waist and tugged him closer. "We'll have to m- move him before you s- start t-that!"

Kurt's voice ended on a yelp as Blaine's lips skimmed his neck, emboldened by the alcohol pounding through his blood, and the taste of Kurt on his lips. There was something so exciting about being with Kurt this way, in a foreign place in a time when he needed to focus and concentrate above all else. Yet Kurt was right here, beautiful and tempting and full of that same untamed lust that had been surging through Blaine for years without release.

"We could just move to the bathroom, too, of course," Kurt gasped, tangling his hands into Blaine's curls and tugging Blaine's mouth up to his. Their lips clashed together roughly, the bitter taste of whiskey and bourbon mixing along their tongues as they tumbled backwards towards the open bathroom door.

"Mmm, good idea," Blaine murmured in agreement.

Still chest to chest, they stumbled into the bathroom and into the wall next to the sink. Like the one in Blaine's own room it wasn't a sink fixed into a counter with a cabinet underneath. He groaned in dismay and used the leg he had between Kurt's to urge the other man back towards the opposite wall. There was no way that sink would hold the weight of one of them. They'd have to improvise.

"B- Blaine, I– we don't– "Kurt ended on a loud moan as Blaine backed him into the wall, parted his thighs with his knee and pressed himself right against the straining bulge in Kurt's pants.

Lips still mouthing over Kurt's neck, Blaine didn't respond or try to understand what Kurt what trying to say. He had the most gorgeous man in existence pressed against the wall, panting and gasping and hard. Words were the absolute last thing on his mind right now.

Kurt, however, didn't seem to agree. "Blaine, seriously, w- we– there's no lube in h- here."

A spark of disappointment coursed through Blaine, but he shrugged against Kurt and started working the other man's shirt up his torso. "Don't need it," Blaine rasped, dipping back in and sucking the swollen, red skin his mouth had been attached to previously. "Wanna feel you against me."

A pleased whimper that Blaine had never heard before escaped Kurt's mouth. They were suddenly rushing to remove Kurt's shirt and then Blaine's jacket and tank top. Their mouths met once more, needy and hot against each other as their hips slotted together.

Blaine groaned into Kurt's mouth, allowing the other man's tongue to dart pass his lips and brush against his. Kurt's thigh forced it's way between Blaine's and started to rub against the hard bulge in his jeans.

"Fuck," Blaine groaned, his hips jerking hard against Kurt's thigh.

In some ways he felt like a over-excited teenager. It had been years since he'd rutted against someone while still clothed, but the very thought of taking the time to remove their pants, find lube, and then stretch one of them made him whine against Kurt's neck. He needed this now, could feel how much Kurt wanted it to with the rough rhythm he was making with his own hips.

"God, I feel like a teenager," Kurt gasped, tugging Blaine in for another kiss as the outlines of their erections finally pressed together.

Blaine could feel Kurt smiling against his lips. At least they were both thinking it. It was almost like that. Being sixteen with his first boyfriend, nervous, inexperienced but so easily turned on that everything had to be now. Everything had to be rushed before parents came home, or siblings walked in. The same thrill of those long ago evenings was present with them now after so many years of sharp, exhausting focus. In some ways they were playing that same game; breaking rules for a new sexual experience that their coaches would be very upset about.

A high-pitched whine broke past Blaine's lips a few moments later. Kurt's arms came around his chest, holding him closer as Blaine buried his face against Kurt's neck and let the other man completely take over. He kept himself stable, letting Kurt's thigh and hips bring them both spiraling higher.

Then Kurt's breath was tickling his ear, his lips warm and smooth as they sucked softly on his earlobe and then pulled away. "Come for me, Blaine," Kurt whispered, his thigh pressing up a little harder and rubbing more urgently. "Love it when you come."

It was Kurt's words more than anything that tipped Blaine over the edge. His entire body seized up for a moment and then his hips stuttered forward hard. He could feel the uncomfortable, sticky warmth soaking his underwear as he groaned weakly against Kurt's neck.

Kurt's hips were still rolling against him, the other man's breath brushing against his ear in hot, panting gasps. Mind already going hazy from his orgasm, Blaine fumbled with the waistband of Kurt's pants, shoved his hand past it, and grasped Kurt's throbbing cock.

Kurt gave a loud cry as Blaine's fist started to stroke him roughly, his hips jerking up to meet the movements as Blaine buried his neck into the hair over Kurt's ear. "You're so hot and heavy in my hand," he rasped. "God, I love the way you feel when you fuck my hand. I'll love it even more the first time you fuck me."

Blaine heard Kurt's breath catch in his throat as Kurt's cock slide through his fist once more. He placed a sweet, lingering kiss against Kurt's cheek as the other man's cock twitched in his grasp and then he gave a thrilled shout. Carefully, Blaine stroked him through his orgasm, Kurt's come coating his hand as he was pulled around for a hard kiss.

They stayed slumped against the wall for several minutes, kissing slowly and pressed tightly together. After a while Kurt pulled away, stepping to the side and away from the wall and heading over to the sink. Blaine watched Kurt clean his lower stomach off with a towel and then pull back the waistband of his pants and start wiping the towel down there.

Blaine glanced at his wristwatch as Kurt continued to clean himself off. When he caught sight of the time he groaned. "I'm going to regret this entire night in two hours." At Kurt's slightly hurt look, Blaine quickly amended, "No, no! Not– I've got training early. There's no way I would regret," Blaine gestured between them, and Kurt smiled and stepped over to him with a new, damp towel.

"It's nice not to be so alone all the time," Kurt agreed, pecking him on the lips and then unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down a few inches.

Surprised Blaine leaned back against the wall and let Kurt pull his soft cock out of his boxers. Kurt took his time, gently wiping him off with the warm towel, and Blaine was so content, so relaxed and at peace, that he started to doze off against the wall.

"Woah!" Kurt hollered, stepping forward and catching him before he fell over. "Yeah, bedtime. Definitely time for you to sleep.

Blaine's eyes fluttered open weakly. He sighed as Kurt stepped into his arms again and supported some of his weight.

"We're definitely staying in a bed from now on," Kurt decided as Blaine sleepily stumbled back into the main room, one arm slung over Kurt's shoulders as he was heaved onto the bed.

He drifted off after that, sprawled out and content. At some point Kurt crawled into the bed with him, nudging him over to make room. But Blaine barely moved, instead rolling onto his side and curling up against Kurt's back.

What felt like only minutes later, Blaine was awoken by the blare of an alarm clock and the sound of retching. There was the splatter of something wet hitting the ground and then a hand shaking him awake.

"Get up, Blaine," Kurt voice told him. "Twenty minutes until training. "

Still Blaine kept his eyes shut and listened to the sound of more retching. He could sleep through that, and the alarm clock. He'd slept through Puck having sex with a girl who screamed like a banshee once, he could sleep through this too. And stay right against Kurt, safe and warm and happy...

"Uggggh," a sickly moan echoed from the far side of the room, and with it came the disgusting smell of vomit and liquor.

Kurt gagged and sat up abruptly. Blaine groaned as his heater disappeared and wrapped a stubborn arm around Kurt's waist to try and tug him back down.

"Blaine, stop," Kurt snapped, swatting at his hand. "You've got training. Get up."

Training... oh crap. Blaine bolted into a sitting position and glanced at the clock. A quarter to five. If he ran the whole way he'd make it, but without breakfast... His stomach rumbled deafening and Kurt looked over at him.

"I guess I should have set it for four," he said sheepishly as Tom started to throw up again, this time in the bathroom.

"It's fine," Blaine yawned. He slung his legs over the side of the bed, and then whined when the hard crust that had formed on his underwear rubbed over his cock. "Ugh, I hope I have some underwear in my locker... "

"You can use a pair of mine," Kurt offered. He pulled the drawer of the dresser between the beds open and handed Blaine a pair of purple boxer-briefs. "Just in case?"

Blushing bright red, Blaine took the garment and accepted a kiss on the cheek from Kurt. He stood up, stammered his thanks as Kurt rolled back onto the bed and curled up again.

"I'll see you later?" Blaine asked, staring down at Kurt, already half-asleep. Kurt murmured something that sounded like agreement and with another look at the clock that made Blaine's heart jolt, he scampered from the building and towards the arena.

The rest of the day was a hazy blur for Blaine. By the time sunlight was trickling in through the high windows of the gym he was dead on his feet and taking more than a few hits from the punching bag. Puck was on the far side, hitting it towards him with the expectation that Blaine would hit it back, but Blaine could barely keep his eyes open. He'd already eaten the handful of energy bars stuffed in his athletic bag, and he was still hungry.

Wes was having none of his pity story though. Blaine hadn't really expected him to, despite his victory last night. He still had four fights to go if he wanted to win, and since his brother and his family weren't set to arrive until the start of the second week of the games he was determined to make sure he made it that far so they could see him.

By eleven Wes took enough pity on Blaine to give him and Puck an hour lunch before heading back in for more training until three o'clock. When they were finished Blaine slugged his way back to their room and collapsed on his bed. It was after midnight when he woke up, and Puck was nowhere in sight. The room was dark and cold as he padded over to the door and flicked on one of the lights.

Yawning loudly, Blaine toed his shoes off, and stripped off the clothes from his training session, then dropped back onto his bed, naked and still tired.

On the bedside table his phone buzzed once loudly. A missed message, probably from Cooper or his wife telling Blaine what time to expect them on the fifth of August. Blaine flopped over on his stomach and smacked his hand down on the bedside table, groping around until his hand closed over the little device.

He was surprised when he swiped across the screen and found that the text message was from Kurt. Considering he'd never even given Kurt his phone number he was more than a little shocked, but he quickly opened the message to see what it said.

[4:23 P.M.] Kurt: I put my number in your mobile when you collapsed on me last night. Hope you don't mind!

[6:56 P.M.]Kurt: You must be sleeping, so hopefully this doesn't wake you up. Just wanted to tell you that my first competition is tomorrow at the Aquatic Centre.

[7:01 P.M.] Yes, that was a not so subtle way of me asking you to come see me compete. Sleep well! Hope I see you tomorrow!

An enormous grin had spread across Blaine's face as he read through the messages. He quickly sent back a reply, telling Kurt he'd be there as soon as he got done with training, and then rolled over, his phone still in hand. As Blaine settled into his bed he read through the short messages over and over, still smiling brightly even when Puck and some girl came barging in and moaning wantonly.

He had Kurt's number, had a way to contact the other man, and not only that but Kurt had done it. Had gone out of his way to make sure they stayed in contact. His stomach fluttered pleasantly at the thought as Puck and the woman he had dragged in dropped down onto the bed behind him. Blaine dug his ear buds out the drawer by his bedside, plugged them into his phone and picked a softer playlist, falling back to sleep with thoughts of Kurt and a pleased bubbling feeling in his chest.

The bed was cold when Blaine woke up the following morning. He felt strangely empty as he listened to the blare of his alarm clock and the annoyed groans of Puck in the bed next to his. It was until he smacked the off button the loud device and rolled over onto his back that Blaine realized why he felt so weird.

There was no warm body sharing his bed. No Kurt to hold him close and keep him warm like there had been for the past two nights. It was oddly unsettling to realize how huge of a difference that already made to him, but he'd never had someone like Kurt before. One real boyfriend for his last year of high school, and then a handful of men he'd dated or messed around with. While Kurt certainly wasn't his boyfriend he wasn't just a fling to Blaine.

A little thrown by his thoughts, Blaine climbed out of bed, changed into his workout clothes for the day, and rolled Puck off of his bed to wake him up. The girl from last night had disappeared, and while Puck certainly seemed more relaxed now, he was in a foul mood all morning.

Blaine partnered with another boxer for the day, and the rest of them left Puck alone as well. They all knew that, despite being committed and focused, Puck was definitely not an early riser. Especially if he'd been up until almost three o'clock in the morning. After spending the first few hours sparring with the other boxers, Wes pulled Blaine off for his individual training, running him through a handful of grueling strength exercises, then speed, and then sitting him down to go over some footage of his next opponent.

Blaine tried to keep his focus on his training and strategizing a plan for his next fight, but it was difficult. In another few hours he'd be out of here and watching Kurt dive in his first competition. An electrifying thrill kept zapping down his spine every time he thought about Kurt, and the way his stomach was starting to swoop was making him feel a little nausea.

Was it normal to feel this way about a new... friend?

He definitely considered Kurt that, but trying to define their relationship in any way beyond that was too complicated right now. There was no way he wanted Kurt to just be a fling, but what else could they be? In less than two weeks Blaine would be heading back to Ohio and Kurt would be staying here in England. Their time was limited and there was nothing else to it.

After his training session ended, Blaine rushed out of the building and over to the Aquatic Centre where Kurt was competing. Already a large crowd had formed and swarmed the stands inside, and fortunately for Blaine when he flashed his identification at the door he was let through. One of the few perks of being a competitor was that he didn't have to buy a ticket. As long as there was still room the section for the athletes then he was let through.

Once Blaine was inside, he stared up at the rows of stands sectioned of for them, noting a large crowd of divers and swimmers from various countries situated at the front. At the top, however, he spotted a group of athletes in United Kingdom attire and headed towards them. Kurt's roommate wasn't among them, but at least if he was near them Kurt might spot him between his dives.

"– still can't believe they qualified," one of the woman was saying as Blaine sat down in the row in front of them. "The individual, sure, but none of us expected to make synchro– "

"That's probably why none of us did," another woman replied, laughing slightly. "Kurt and Tom are a great team, though. Maybe not on par with the Chinese and the rest but– "

"They won't make it to finals," A man cut in. "They both know it. Synchro wasn't their main focus."

Blaine shifted on his bench, his jacket stretching tight across his shoulders as he stared down at the diving pool and the towering platforms. He'd never liked diving, especially not from the platform. There was just something about being that high with nothing but air between himself and a twelve foot pool of water that unsettled him.

– bet they screw up the first one," the man was saying once more. "After the way Kurt was limping up the stairs– "

"Wish he'd taken a picture for us to see that American who fucked him," one of the woman cut in, sounding disappointed. "He's a boxer apparently, so I bet he's all busted up– "

Despite himself Blaine cleared his throat loudly, and the woman stopped in mid-sentence. The entire group fell silent behind Blaine as the announcer came on the loud speaker and then–

"Didn't Kurt say his last name was Anderson?" the woman whispered uncertainly. Blaine could feel their eyes on his back, where his last name was stamped across his jacket in navy blue letters.

"I think so."

"Blimey, he's fit– "

"Ladies and gentlemen, our first diving pair for the evening– "

Despite the group still whispering behind himself, Blaine kept his eyes fixed on the platformt far below where two divers, clad only in tiny Speedos had stepped out of the hot tub and were making their way to the spring boards. With a slack jaw Blaine watched Kurt adjust his Speedo on his hips as he and his diving partner took their places.

He'd seen Kurt in his Speedo that first night together, but then he'd been in such a rush to removing the offending garment he'd really taken the time to appreciate it. It was tight and tiny, riding low on Kurt's hips, and barely covering him. Even from a distance Blaine could see the distinct bulge of Kurt's cock, and the outline of it running perpendicular to his legs.

Heart hammering as he continued to look Kurt over, he didn't realize one of the British divers in the stands had hopped down to his row and was staring at him in fascination.

"Rather stunning, isn't he?" she commented, making Blaine jump and turn to her. "Seems to be trait for gay men considering how you look."

She was a slight woman, blond and quite beautiful.

"I, um," Blaine stammered, turning just in time to see Tom and Kurt dive off the spring boards in unison, twisting and flipping straight into the water below.

"Definitely him," she called over her shoulder. "He's got bite marks on his neck."

The rest of the group gathered around him, all talking at once. Overwhelmed by the chat, and the words they were using that he didn't understand Blaine stared around in alarm.

"– you must have fucked him hard– "

"Can't believe you made him limp– "

"Guess you Americans really do pound away, yeah?"

"Hey, now, back off," the first woman ordered. She offered Blaine her hand to shake. "I'm Quinn."

"Blaine," he replied, feeling quite embarrassed by the goofy grins the rest of the group was directing at him.

"So did you really– "

"Are you going to– "

"Can you film it– "

"Chill out!" Quinn snapped again and they others fell silent once more. "I think what they mean to say is why'd you come to see Kurt compete."

"Oh, um, well he came to see my boxing match," Blaine offered lamely. "Just wanted to return the favor."

Quinn eyed him carefully for several long moments, until Blaine shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"You two fancy each other," she declared, and Blaine's brain took a moment to process what she meant by that. "And not just in a fuck each other for a night deal."

"I– we're– there's no– "Blaine stammered in frustration, because even he didn't know what to call what they had at this moment.

"Don't worry, love," Quinn said soothingly. "He's pretty smitten with you, too."

Blaine's heart leapt at her words. He felt slightly foolish for it, but hearing one of Kurt's friends confirm it made him unbelievably happy. After the other night he'd assumed they were... well, more than fuck buddies to put it bluntly. What exactly they would amount to was anyone's guess though.

For the rest of the competition Quinn and her fellow divers sat with Blaine and walked him through how the dives were judged, and how the scores were calculated. Much to the team's surprise Tom and Kurt breezed into the semi-finals. Blaine was still struggling to understand the difference between a good dive and a bad one when Quinn pulled him to his feet and hurried him down to the pool deck. The rest of the group was already down there congratulating Kurt and Tom, but when Kurt, still only wearing his skimpy little Speedo, saw Blaine his face split into a wide, warm smile and he rushed over to embrace him.

There was no doubt about it for Blaine this time. His heart, stomach, and everything above waist level swooped as Kurt's arms tightened around him. There was so much more going on here than he'd ever planned, and while part of him was scared, another part was also thrilled. No other feeling could ever compare to the one that was swirling through his gut as Kurt pulled back and beamed. Blaine didn't know what to call it, but if this was love... he'd be okay with that.

If the beautiful looking shining out of Kurt's eyes was the same thing he was feeling he'd never let it go. Not even if they had to put an entire ocean between themselves in less than two weeks.

"I'm so glad you made it," Kurt practically squealed, still dripping wet and flushed with his success.

Over Kurt's shoulder Blaine spotted the rest of the team, grinning as they watched him and Kurt.

"Told you I wouldn't miss it," Blaine said playfully. "It's only fair since you went to my fight."

"Yeah, I suppose," Kurt said a little breathlessly.

Before Blaine could even think Kurt had leaned in and kissed him. The funny tugging sensation went off in the pit of Blaine's stomach once more. If he'd had a real love before this to compare right now to, he might have been able to say with certainty that he was, in fact, falling straight down into Kurt's arms where the beautiful possibility of love was waiting for them. But he didn't. All he had was the soft brush of Kurt's lips over his, the way his heart stuttered in his chest as Kurt's fingers caressed his cheek as he deepened the kiss, and the feeling in his heart that whatever this was, it was incredibly real and something he never wanted to miss.