"Do you think I'm boring?" and you pout when his face turns incredulous.
"Are you kidding? You're the most interesting kid in all of Ohio!" You can feel your inner diva changing 'Ohio' to 'the world', but your inner cynic is frowning at the entire statement. Despite this, you want to see how far you can push it, so you add one more word that changes the atmosphere in the room tangibly.

"Sexually." You try to keep your gaze cool and collected, your posture nonchalant, but you can feel the blush staining your cheeks and his green-and-gold eyes boring into yours. The silence drags on a little too long and you start to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, but you can't help but notice how his eyes seem to be two tones darker. "I-I mean … do you … you ever get the urge to just …" and you're sure you had a fairly intelligent and coherent sentence formed in your head, but the density of the air seems to have increased to the extent that it's physically stopping the words from escaping.

But then again, you guess you don't really need words, because he growls out a "Yes," from somewhere deep in his throat, and you know that he knows what you mean. It's kind of embarrassing though, because up to this point, his reaction suggested that you were doing something right, but now your mouth is just gaping wordlessly like a fish out of water, because dammit he just licked his lips and it should not be legal to be such a professional at eye sex. You're so entranced that you can't even react as he stalks over to where you're perched on the edge of his bed, but then, without any preamble, he throws his legs on either side of you, straddling you, and then you do react, because the friction and theproximity and oh!

Your hands snap up to tangle themselves in his hair, and you yank his face down to yours, effectively smashing your lips together. You're rewarded with a grunt of surprise, followed by an appreciative moan as you deepen the kiss. He grinds down, roughly, and your hips buck up automatically to meet his. You feel yourself blushing violently at quite how needy the little whine that works its way up your throat is, but he doesn't seem to notice, too busy trailing sloppy kisses down your jaw, your throat. Your breath hitches as his lips find the spot behind your ear, and you gasp as he begins to nibble at it, sucking on the pulse point until you see stars.

"Blaine … I … I need …" you manage to pant out, but, despite your incoherency, he understands, rubbing his hips down against yours, slotting into a sort of messy rhythm. You rut against him shamelessly, groaning and gasping at each new sensation. You lock eyes with him, marvelling at his lust-blown pupils and the high flush on his cheeks, as well as the pinkness of his kiss-bitten lips and the way your clutching fingers have loosened the gel enough for some of his curls to flop free, framing his face beautifully. You shut your eyes to the flood of sensation, wrinkling up your nose … you're so close … so close …

"B-Blaine … wait … I can't … no, stop …" and it takes a moment for your words to cut through the haze of lust fogging his brain, but as soon as it does, you see a flash of confusion followed by pain cross his face before he hurriedly gets off you, sitting on the bed.
"Wh-why?" he forces out between his laboured breaths.
"No, I … want to … I just … these pants are new …" and the incredulous look is back, although it's more indignant this time.
"You mean, you...? … It's fine babe … I just … I mean, I need to …" and he gets up, shuffling awkwardly towards his bathroom.
"Oh, um … same …" and you head upstairs to use the other bathroom, wincing at how uncomfortably tighter-than-usual your beautifully pristine, new, designer jeans are.

A few jerks of the wrist and a meticulous washing of the hands later, you're hesitating outside his room again, hoping he won't be mad. You peek around the door to see him splayed out on his bed, a contented look gracing his features. You creep in, standing awkwardly by the bed before he gestures at you to join him.

"C'mere, babe," he says with a soft smile, so you lay down beside him, tucking yourself into his side.
"Sorry," you murmur, burying your face in his neck. He clutches you tighter to him, rubbing your back.
"No, babe, I'm sorry – I shouldn't have rushed you like that. Don't apologise – I'm only comfortable if you are, remember?" and you nod, nuzzling against his collarbone, sighing as he hums in satisfaction.
"You didn't rush me, though," you whisper into his skin, "and i-it was … nice …" You duck your head even further as he lets out a chuckle.
"Hey, no, look at me," he says, tucking a finger under your chin and raising your face until you're on the same level as him. "Don't be embarrassed – it was very nice indeed." You blush again, this time with a small smile. "And, see? I don't find you sexually boring at all," he smirks, leaning in to capture your lips with an exaggerated 'mwah'.