"Kuuuuurt…"

"Blaine."

"It's hot."

"I know it's hot. You realise it'd be less hot for both of us if you weren't lying on me?"

"But…" Blaine seemed to spend a moment searching for a response to Kurt's logic, eventually giving up on sensible debate and just groaning a little.

Kurt continued to read his book, Blaine's head a heavy weight in his lap as he sprawled across the couch. His own limbs were flung as far from his body as he could get them in an attempt to stay cool, but he still insisted on using Kurt as a pillow. He was beginning to wonder if the weather was effecting his boyfriend's brain.

Summer had well and truly descended on the streets of New York. Their apartment didn't have air conditioning, and up on the fifth floor every scrap of heat seemed to enter and settle, filling the corners and hiding up near the ceiling. All of their windows were flung open, but there was barely a breeze and they were constantly sheathed in a cloying sweat. Under their knees and on the backs of their necks, dampening their hair.

Blaine huffed again, turning his head on Kurt's thighs.

Kurt rolled his eyes and put his book down, "Blaine, seriously, what do you want me to do?"

Blaine looked up at him and shrugged, "I dunno…"

"Well, go and have a cold shower or something. Please. Just stop complaining."

Blaine paused for a second, "Yeah, OK." He chewed his lip, "Want to keep me company?"

Kurt picked his book up again, "No Blaine."

"You sure?"

"Yes Blaine."

He hauled himself to his feet, "Suit yourself."

Kurt, one thumbnail clamped between his teeth, glanced up as Blaine retreated to the bathroom. While he walked he clutched the hem of his white t-shirt and dragged it over his head, dropping it on the floorboards carelessly. The muscles in his back strained and twisted, moving under his fawn skin, a riotous landscape. He had no doubt that Blaine was doing it deliberately. Teasing him.

Smug bastard, with his stupid heavenly body and his stupid amazing genes. No wonder I fucking love him.

Bastard.

The knowledge didn't stop his eyes from traveling to the two dimples in the small of his back, just above the band of his underwear, visible over his shorts.

It didn't stop him from licking his lips as Blaine ran a hand through his hair.

It didn't stop him from shifting in his seat when he saw Blaine undoing his fly as he disappeared into the bathroom.

He neglected to close the door and Kurt clearly heard the rushing patter of water on glass followed by the more muffled sound of water on skin. He stared at his book, trying to continue reading, becoming stuck on words that seemed to glare at him from the page.

Hard.

Release.

Sensitive.

Flushed.

Only five minutes ago he'd been pretty sure he'd been reading a fairly trashy, but by no means racy, Dan Brown book. Now he felt like a man in a trench coat flipping through porn in a corner newsagent. He squirmed again, uncomfortable in his tight shorts, aware of a sudden throbbing.

Icy water was probably pooling in the hollow in Blaine's neck right now.

A bead of sweat trickled down his calf.

The sound of the shower ceased and a minute later Kurt glimpsed Blaine, blurry in the fringe of his vision.

"Is that bett– "

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck, fuck, fuck.

OK.

Blaine was naked, leaning on the doorframe as a pool formed at his feet. The steady tick, tick of water on wood syncopating with his quickening pulse.

He just grinned, "Yeah, all better."

Kurt swallowed hard, "Blaine?"

"Mm?" he ran a hand down his damp chest.

"You're dripping on the floor."

Blaine looked down, drawing Kurt's eyes in the same direction. V-shaped muscles, dark hair, wet cock, thighs, knees, feet, puddle.

Wet cock.

"Hm, yeah, I am." He casually traced a big toe in the moisture.

Kurt forced himself to look back at his book, his throat tight, "As long as you clean it up."

It's way too hot for this, it's way too hot for this, it's…

… getting hotter.

Blaine remained at the door, but Kurt could sense movement from where he stood. After a minute, his curiosity got the better of him.

And his jaw dropped.

Blaine's eyes were lightly closed, and his mouth just open as his chest rose and fell. One large, calloused hand was moving slowly up and down the length of his cock, his pleasure painted all over his relaxed, blushing face.

"Blaine!" Kurt hissed.

"Hm?" he half moaned.

"Stop that!"

"Feels good though." His hand kept moving and Kurt heard his breath hitch, making his own dick tremor.

"It's…" he swallowed again, "It's really distracting."

"You could help me out." He murmured, a hint of bliss to his voice.

"I'm trying to read." He said feebly.

"I'm more fun, I promise."

Blaine's feet appeared in Kurt's line of sight and a hand gripped his novel, pulling it from his fingers and dropping it on the sofa.

When he flicked his eyes up all he could see was Blaine's groin, more than half hard and already dripping pre-come, and he gasped, blood rushing simultaneously north and south. His hand grasped his chin and tilted his head back gently.

"Hey," he smirked, wiggling his fingers in a cheeky wave, eyes dark, "My face is up here."

"Yeah…" Kurt whispered, "… face…"

Blaine spread his legs and knelt on the couch, straddling Kurt, no doubt well aware of his hard-on, racing to catch up with Blaine's. He could feel it rubbing on Blaine's thigh and he sighed audibly at the friction.

He gazed, half-blind up at Blaine. His curls were plastered to his head, his eyelashes clinging together, utterly gorgeous.

"You're getting my clothes wet."

Why am I objecting, again?

"Allow me." Blaine purred, tugging Kurt's shirt over his head and sliding his fingers down his bare chest.

"It's too hot."

I should really shut the fuck up.

Blaine smirked, lowering his head to breathe in his ear, "You've never complained before."

Kurt didn't remember moving them, but suddenly his hands were on Blaine's thighs, gripping tight, way too tight, as he watched a drop of water fall from an errant curl and felt it hit his stomach.

Blaine's tongue was searing on his neck, "Why do you keep coming up with excuses?"

"I have no fucking idea." Kurt growled, grabbing Blaine's head and pulling him into a rough kiss, his tongue in his mouth, which tasted like the cheap icy poles he'd been eating all day. Sweet and red, like raspberry or strawberry, and that bitter taste that was nothing but Blaine, Blaine, Blaine.

Blaine moaned into Kurt, biting his lip and clamping a hand on the back of his neck while the other fumbled his belt.

"Let me." Kurt rasped, reaching both hands between them to open his shorts, brushing and nudging Blaine's hard-on as he did.

Blaine busied his mouth on one of Kurt's nipples, a thumb playing over the other as Kurt's breath stuttered. His hand closed around Blaine's cock and he jolted, letting out a strangled noise of pleasure.

With what must have been a painful amount of self-control, Blaine whined, "Stop." And Kurt let go in confusion.

Blaine slid off his lap, grabbing him under his thighs and supporting him long enough to turn him from where he sat on the couch, to the coffee table. He clasped the top of Kurt's shorts and ripped them off, underwear and all, finally leaving him as naked as Blaine.

Without warning Blaine grabbed his hips, pushing him back on the table and lowering his mouth over his cock, all the way down once, and then back up to lick the head, tracing hieroglyphs with his tongue.

Kurt cried out, fingernails digging into wood and dragging thin marks in their wake. Blaine had started moving down his erection again, slowly taking more and more into his throat until he had to add a pumping hand to aid his lips. He moved his other hand between his own legs, putting a fist around himself and dragging a thumb over his pre-come for lube.

Kurt was beginning to see stars, everything around him getting brighter and louder. He could feel everything. Blaine's damp hair as it brushed his stomach, up and down. The firm, pleasant cool of the table beneath him. The brook of sweat that was traveling all the way down his bare back from where it started at his neck. He could feel Blaine around him, feel the buzzing as Blaine started to hum, feel the building in his abdomen as energy and light and sound and life could have been pooling all at once at his core.

"Fffffff – "

He began to stiffen and Blaine pulled his mouth up and off Kurt's cock one more time, sucking gently. Both of his hands kept moving, but he stared up at his boyfriends pink face and red lips, one of which he was currently clamping between his teeth as his brow furrowed and his eyes clenched shut, head snapping back.

He came with a series of jerks, letting out a drawn out sound that made Blaine's eyes grow wide at the primitiveness of it. He spilled, warm and wet over Blaine's fingers. He kept moving through Kurt's orgasm, already on the edge himself and getting closer at the image in front of him and the small splash on his chest that he was just sure was Kurt's come.

Kurt lay back on the table panting and Blaine's free hand shot out and grabbed his hip. He buried his face in Kurt's inner thigh as he came on the floor where he crouched, screaming senseless vowel sounds into his sticky skin that to him sounded like "Kurt!"

He fell forward, body heaving against Kurt's prone form, waiting for the rushing in his ears to die down and for feeling to return to his limbs.

When it did, he dragged himself up,licking Kurt's thigh once, slowly tasting, before falling on the table next to him. He kissed Kurt lazily, licking his bottom lip.

The part of Kurt's brain that had recovered wondered whether the table would be able to support their combined weight, but the rest of it didn't give a fuck. After all, that was what IKEA was for.

He giggled weakly, at that thought, and he felt Blaine's damp hand scrape up his torso, leaving small pink marks that immediately faded, and a trail of come that could have been either of theirs, or both. Unfortunately it didn't fade, and Blaine's lips murmured against his neck.

"If you don't come and have a shower with me this time, I'll be very, very offended."