Kurt Hummel has always believed that the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets, so it's not a surprise when he gets turned on just from watching Blaine's fingers sweep along the keys of a piano.

It's his hands. They're so strong and so sure, and Kurt knows that they can play his body like he's Blaine's own personal instrument. Essentially, he is, with the way he can fall apart and be pulled back together accompanied by a symphony of notes that pour from his mouth, simply from the power of his boyfriend's hands.

It's with this thought that he's almost too enthusiastic when he finds out Blaine's picked up the guitar since he's left for New York. His mind immediately jumps to faster fingers, harder presses, rougher skin—things he can't wait to test out as soon as Blaine has had time to build up a knowledge of this new instrument.

The opportunity arises faster than he originally thought, though it should have been expected. Blaine is a fast learner, especially when it comes to music, absorbing everything he can in short time spans with wide eyes and eager fingers.

Kurt comes home for an extended Thanksgiving weekend to spend some time with everyone. He drives nonstop (save for pee and food breaks) after his Tuesday morning class, making the drive to Westerville in record time.

Blaine is surprised, but elated nonetheless, to see Kurt so early. He welcomes Kurt as soon as he opens the door, and they embrace and god if it doesn't feel like coming home for Kurt.

Kisses are placed on cheeks and lips and necks and everywhere they can reach, both sets wet and salty with happy tears. Kurt hasn't smiled in so long—really smiled—but he does now. Crinkly eyes, showing all his teeth, flushing red, and he doesn't even care that he looks like he's twelve because he's here.

It's another immeasurable amount of time that they stand in the incredibly decorated foyer of the Anderson home, simply holding each other because how long has it been since they've just done that?

All sense of urgency and apprehension melts away, and they kiss one more sweet time before they set off for the stairs, fingers intertwined.

They collapse on Blaine's comforter, Blaine exhausted from a long day of school and Kurt from driving for hours. They curl up together under the covers, barely enough energy to shuck (and carefully fold—this is vintage Dolce and Gabbana, Blaine, I was so close to having to sell my organs on the black market to get the money for this) their clothes.

There's just enough energy left over after that for Kurt to ask Blaine about his parents' absence as they fit together, Blaine's back to Kurt's front, and Blaine to respond with a flippant answer about a workweek trip to Chicago.

Kurt's last thought before they drift into a contented sleep is that he wishes he could have come Monday because Blaine should never have to be alone.

Kurt wakes on Wednesday morning from the best night of sleep he's had in months. He feels refreshed and rested, and he can't even begin to be bothered by morning breath as he kisses Blaine awake.

"Mmm," Blaine mumbles, a sleepy smile on his face. He's got one eye cracked open, fighting the light, but Kurt can tell he's beyond happy. "Good morning."

Kurt kisses him again. "Good morning, indeed."

"Can't wait till we can do this every morning." Blaine says, lips brushing against Kurt's as he speaks.

"This time next year we'll have been doing this for months." Kurt smiles after he says it because it's the truth, and Blaine grins too.

Blaine starts to move in for more kisses but the mood is ruined when his own stomach growls. Kurt laughs, and Blaine sits up in his bed, sheets falling to pool at his slender waist. Kurt's breath catches in his chest when Blaine looks down at him, hair sleep rumpled and just messy enough. His eyes sparkle in the fall morning glow, the color of a cup of warm tea, and Kurt falls a little more in love.

"You're beautiful," Blaine says before Kurt can say it himself. Kurt smiles softly, still in disbelief that he's gotten so lucky with this boy.

"I was just about to tell you the same. Now scoot your beautiful butt out of bed so we can have some breakfast."

"Says the one still laying down," Blaine smirks and tweaks one of Kurt's nipples. Kurt squeaks, eyes wide with shock, and he launches himself out of bed after the giggling Blaine who is already halfway down the hall.

They have fruit salad for breakfast (lunch, really, because it's already almost one), mostly because it's effortless and they can feed each other. It's easy in such a domestic setting to imagine that this is what it will be like in New York when Blaine finally joins him. Waking up to the lips of the boy he loves with all of his heart, sharing meals, and lounging for hours. On the off days, at least.

Kurt kisses some strawberry juices that dribbled down Blaine's chin, and breakfast is over. They head back up to Blaine's room because neither of them have the energy or the want to do anything but be.

They lay around in bed for hours, watching movies and TV in their underwear. Kurt thinks it's perfect.

It's not until hours later when Kurt is half-watching a rerun of America’s Next Top Model when Blaine finally brings out his guitar. Kurt tries to hide the fact that he's been waiting for this since he got here yesterday.

"Are you gonna play for me?" Kurt asks, just a little coy.

"I dunno," Blaine rubs the pads of his fingers up and down the neck of the guitar, "I was thinking about just staring at it for a while..."

Kurt pinches his bicep, and Blaine yelps through his laughter. "You sarcastic prick," Kurt tries to be serious, though he can't help but smile too.

Rather than correct himself, Blaine sets his guitar over his lap, poised to play. He looks up at Kurt once he's in position, and the air in the room shifts. Blaine's eyes are a little darker than they just were, a glint in them that makes Kurt gulp and wonder if the room suddenly got a fraction hotter.

Within the first few measures, Kurt recognizes the song Blaine is playing. He watches Blaine’s long fingers quickly press into the frets as they change chords and wonders how they would feel pressing into his sides instead.

If he had any doubts about ripping his boyfriend's clothes off once he was done with the song before, they would have evaporated as soon as he started singing.

I’m lost without you,

Can’t help myself.

How does it feel

To know that I love you baby?

Blaine did this on purpose. This sly little fucker knows about the massive crush Kurt has on Robin Thicke. This is Kurt’s sexy song, and judging by the mischievous sparkle in his eye, it’s having the exact effect on Kurt that he wanted.

You wanna touch yourself when you see me.

Tell me how you love my body

And how I make you feel baby.

Blaine sounds so smooth when he sings it too, oozing sex and slipping into an effortless falsetto that Kurt makes feel like he could melt. He loses himself in the lilt of Blaine’s voice and the way Blaine gazes at him with eyes like crystallized honey.

Kurt shivers when Blaine gets to the final chorus, and it gets even higher. Blaine’s eyes close in passion, and Kurt can’t help the goosebumps that break out over his skin. He stops watching Blaine’s face and looks at his hands again, sure and strong as they play the instrument.

The notes fade out lightly with Blaine crooning his sultry ooh baby’s and ooh darling’s, and he barely has enough time to set his guitar gently on the floor before Kurt is jumping on top of him and smashing their lips together.

“Wow, I almost hate you. Fuck you for picking that song,” he growls in between bites to Blaine’s mouth, “fuck you so hard.”

“I dunno, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you enjoyed it.” Blaine pushes Kurt back into the bed and aligns their bodies hip to hip. Kurt would be embarrassed that he is already completely hard, but he can’t make himself care while Blaine is pressing into him like that. He moans brokenly on a hitched breath when Blaine starts to roll his hips down in tandem with the thrusting of their tongues.

Kurt brings his legs up to wrap around Blaine’s waist and pushes them impossibly closer, thanking god that they’re still in only their underwear. The delicious drag of their cocks through tight cotton is almost good enough, but it’s not what he’s been waiting for since he saw Blaine play his guitar.

He reaches around Blaine’s back and hooks his fingers into the dark boxer briefs, dragging them as far down Blaine’s thighs as he can in this position. Blaine sits back and kicks them off all the way, still kneeling between Kurt’s legs. Kurt lifts his hips up, and Blaine wastes no time plucking the top of his briefs and pulling them off of Kurt’s legs.

It’s the first time they’ve been naked together in months, and as much as Kurt would like to savor it, all he wants is Blaine’s hands on him, hot and rough.

“You should—“ He starts and is cut off by a moan when Blaine scrapes his teeth along the column of his neck. “You should show me just how fast that guitar made your fingers.”

Blaine hums in agreement. “Can do.” He presses a quick, hard kiss to Kurt’s lips before he reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a bottle of lube. While he waits for Blaine to coat his fingers, Kurt wraps his hand around his dick, gathering the precome at the top and giving a few quick jerks to relieve some of the ache. He flips over onto his stomach and puts a pillow under his hips when he notices Blaine is done.

Soon enough, Blaine is reaching down to tease Kurt’s hole with a slippery finger. Kurt bears back onto it eagerly. Blaine holds Kurt’s hip to the bed with his left hand and starts to push in the middle digit that’s between Kurt’s legs.

Blaine rubs Kurt’s lower back with his thumb as he pushes his finger, bottoming out, palm pressed against Kurt’s ass. He starts to move it slowly in and out. “Okay?” Blaine asks, leaning over to kiss him in a way that would be chaste if it wasn’t for their position.

“No,” Kurt squirms, “move. You have a goal here, remem—“ The rest of the word is cut off with a cry when Blaine unexpectedly crooks his finger down and drags it across his prostate.

“Oh, I fully intend to reach that goal. I was just being considerate.” Blaine smirks, starting to pick up the pace. “Don’t worry, that stops now.”

And stop it does when Blaine starts to roughly pump his finger in and out of Kurt’s ass, barely letting him grow accustomed to the stretch before he adds a second one. Kurt lets out a high, surprised moan that stretches for an incredible amount of time while Blaine fucks him harder with his hand.

“Jesus that did work,” Kurt groans, spreading his legs even farther to accommodate Blaine’s hand. Blaine is moving his fingers faster than ever, killing Kurt with pleasure from every drag. His voice is whiny and high when he says, “One more, Blaine, add another finger.”

Kurt feels Blaine’s hand move from his hip to his ass, spreading his cheeks and doing as he was told. The stretch-burn feels good at the moment, and Blaine groans too, still moving his fingers as fast and hard as he can, dragging against Kurt’s prostate every few thrusts.

He leans over, kissing the smooth, sweaty skin of Kurt’s back, and Kurt arches his back even further, taking Blaine’s fingers even deeper. “Blaine, oh god, Blaine you feel so good, holy shit.”

Blaine bites at Kurt’s ear, whispering, “God, you should see yourself right now. You look so good, Kurt, and you feel even better.” He moans like he’s the one being taken care of here, but Kurt knows that Blaine gets off on his pleasure almost as much as he does.

Blaine starts dragging across Kurt’s prostate more deliberately now, trying to get Kurt to his release. “Come for me, baby, I know you’re close. I can feel it in the way you’re clenching on my fingers.”

Kurt’s sounds are bordering on screams at this point, unintelligible and high clusters of syllables that could be mash-ups of Blaine’s name with various expletives and words of praise. He can feel Blaine rutting against his thigh, cock rubbing in choppy thrusts, and Kurt knows that Blaine is as close as he is.

His orgasm hits him like a tsunami, waves of incredible pleasure rocking through him as he comes all over the pillow beneath him without even needing to touch himself. Blaine strokes him through it, fingers still pumping but not at such a rapid pace, and he stops before Kurt gets too sensitive. Still thrusting against him, Blaine only needs a half dozen or so more before he’s coming too, and Kurt can feel him pulsing against his leg, wet and hot where his come is splattered.

Blaine collapses next to Kurt, bringing him into his arms and letting him rest his head against his chest. They lay there for a few quiet minutes, coming down from their orgasms. Still trembling, Kurt sits up and grabs a few tissues from the nightstand and cleans the two of them off, moving the soiled pillow to the floor.

Kurt curls back up into Blaine’s arms, threading his fingers through Blaine’s hair as they bask. He’s the one to finally break the content silence. “So… I think you should teach me how to play the guitar.”

Blaine laughs because he is definitely, definitely, going to have to teach him that.