The door clicks shut and Kurt leans back against it, his eyes closed. Dancing class has been exhausting and all his muscles are screaming. He wants nothing more than to take a hot bath and collapse on the bed. Blaine should be back in a couple of hours. He had to rehearse with Matt for their number at the mid-semester showcase.

When Blaine told him he wanted to try out for NYADA sat on the couch in his old apartment in Bushwick, Kurt didn’t have any doubt that he would get in. Blaine was and is and always will be pure, undiluted talent. And a heart big and warm that echoes through words and notes when he sings. Just hearing him sing under his breath as he cooks or showers manages to tug at something inside of Kurt.

They got back together in spring, right before Blaine heard back from NYADA. After he had been accepted Kurt flew with him to New York and they spent a week house-hunting together under the hot August sun. Kurt loved walking around with Blaine, smiling bright and untamed in the heat, eyes sparking behind his yellow sunglasses. He loved going back to their small hotel room at night and re-learn everything about Blaine’s body, from the way his thighs trembled as they bracketed his waist to the way his nipples hardened at the briefest touch. During that first week together in New York Kurt understood that being with Blaine, sharing a place and a life and a bucket of worries and dreams was what he wanted.

A smile pulls at Kurt’s lips at the memory and he opens his eyes. All the air leaves his lungs in an exasperated sigh. The living room’s floor is covered in music sheets. They are everywhere, under the old Ikea table they use as coffee table and over their small couch. Kurt is positively sure some of them are also hidden underneath the carpet.

It isn’t the first time that Kurt comes back home to this mess, and is it really so hard to understand he has issues with chaos and used mugs left scattered around the house. Blaine always smiles at him and hurries to put everything in order. He never fails to remind Kurt that indeed he has no problems with the mess when it comes to their bed. When it comes to pillows falling off the bed and to twisted sheets. When it comes to Blaine’s come on his thighs or on his stomach. It is, indeed, nearly impossible to remain angry at Blaine.

But today tiredness is knotted too tight inside Kurt and he doesn’t have the strength to keep it at bay. He can hear the water running, and he knows Blaine probably won’t hear him, but he shouts anyway.

“Blaine Devon Anderson!”

*

Kurt’s voice is a muffled echo in his ears, but Blaine instantly knows that Kurt is far from happy. His voice is crystal hard and over the years he has learnt what it means. It means that once again he has done something wrong.

it’s not as though they fight often or Kurt rises his voice too much. Indeed the times when they really managed to hurt each other, the times when there had been slammed doors and words that cut like knives and tears, those time Kurt’s voice never rose. When he was broken Kurt barely whispered and that shattered Blaine’s heart to pieces every time.

Usually Kurt yells at him when it comes to small things that drive him mad, like not watered plants and dishes abandoned in the sink. They have been living together for a while now, but they are still learning the right steps to this new dance. And sometimes Blaine slips. It’s not that he doesn’t try, it’s just that he doesn’t see the point in stressing too much about tidiness when they are both still students. He perfectly understands that for Kurt is different, though.

Kurt was only a kid when he had to learn how to keep a house, to help his father, to cling to the only family he had left. And Blaine respects that. He loves Kurt so much that he would do anything to make him happy. Still, sometimes he slips. Matt and he decided it was easier to practice at Blaine’s and the whole day slipped by like that, singing and rehearsing their choreography. When Matt had left Blaine decided to take a quick shower before tidying everything up. It seems he made a tactical mistake.

He quickly steps out of the shower box and wraps a towel around his waist before making his way to the living room. Kurt is standing in front of the door, coat still on and hands on his hips. Blaine can’t help feeling a sharp pull right behind his breastbone. It has always been like this, his blood boils when Kurt looks at him like that, fierce and cool. It snakes down Blaine’s spine, heat pooling at the bottom of his stomach. The need to simply present himself to Kurt, for him to do whatever he pleases was terrifying at the beginning. Then they talked about it, spent long nights testing boundaries and limits and the sharp edges of needs that they had never acknowledged before. And they found a way to make it work, their own balance. A place only for them. Sometimes it was Blaine who took Kurt’s hand and pulled him along, made him strong and steadfast when he was too unsure. Sometimes it was Kurt who took control, helping Blaine to let go, to simply breathe and be.

Blaine pads barefoot up to Kurt. His eyes are hard, blue discs. It is almost impossible to look at them, too much beauty seems to burn right through Blaine.

“What the hell has happened here?”

His voice is set and crystal clear, like glass it slips inside of Blaine. He shrugs and Kurt looks at him unimpressed.

“We’ve already gone through this, Blaine. Is it so hard to understand that…”

Blaine’s heart thrums, low and deep like a war drum as he takes a step forward and presses his hand open over Kurt’s chest.

“Sorry.”

Kurt exhales, warm air past Blaine’s temple.

“It’s…”

Kurt closes and opens his eyes, they are softer now.

“It’s just that…you know I get annoyed, so why do you…”

They have already had conversations like this, when the two of them seem to run on two different wavelengths. Blaine doesn’t like the feeling of it. He knows it is inevitable sometimes, because he has learnt through pain and heartbreak that he and Kurt are indeed two different entities. That doesn’t prevent him from trying to keep their wavelengths entwined as much as he can.

“I would have put everything back in place after the shower.”

Kurt’s hand finally comes up to cover his. it’s still slightly cold from outside. Kurt’s eyes are searching his face now, a hint of worry swimming in there like a lost little fish.

“Do…do you think we work well? I mean, there are all these things that don’t match and…”

Blaine leans forward, their noses brushing, Kurt’s breath warm on his lips.

“We match when it comes to the important things. I want to be with you, Kurt. I’ll never stop.”

It’s Kurt who kisses him, tongue tracing the seam of Blaine’s lips until he parts them. Kurt’s hand sets on his lower back and Blaine shivers.

“Aren’t you cold like this?”

Blaine shakes his head, pressing closer. His lips moving against the pearly curve of Kurt’s neck as he speaks.

“I want to do something before I put the music sheets away.”

“Mmm”

*

A sigh tumbles past Kurt’s lips as Blaine takes a step back, eyes dark and lips redder because of the kiss.

“I want you to fuck me right here.”

It still takes Kurt back sometimes, how direct Blaine can be when he wants. How burningly he desires him, how he bares himself for Kurt. He knows that sometimes Blaine needs this, needs to be grounded and owned. As Kurt does and Blaine is so good at that too, at making Kurt feel safe and protected and anchored.

He keeps his voice steady when he speaks, even though his heart is already beating faster, his skin hotter.

“Take off that towel, then.”

Blaine complies quickly, his eyes never leaving Kurt’s. He is beautiful, almost painfully so. Kurt has mapped and learned and memorized Blaine’s body over the years they’ve been together. He knows the taste and the feeling of every curve and line. But to see Blaine like this still manages to set him of fire.

“Lay down.”

He looks as Blaine lowers himself on the music sheets. He looks like a painting, golden skin and dark hair in stark contrast with the whiteness of the paper. Kurt starts to take off his coat and Blaine shifts, his hands starting to wander down his naked torso, caressing the skin that Kurt can’t reach, not yet.

“Would you touch yourself for me, love?”

Blaine nods, paper rustling.

Kurt takes off the rest of his clothes as Blaine’s whimpers and soft whines start to fill the room. Kurt knows well that Blaine likes this, feeling Kurt’s gaze on him. Once they were laying on the bed, legs tangled and hearts still beating fast, and Blaine told him it was like being touched everywhere at the same moment. From then on Kurt made sure to ask Blaine to touch himself for him, just as Blaine made sure to slip the restraints he had bought out of the nightstand’s drawer and gently close them around Kurt’s wrists when he needed to feel completely in Blaine’s hands.

By the time Kurt is finally naked Blaine is panting, a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead and his cock fully hard, the head wet with pre-come. He pushes his legs wider, thighs trembling slightly. Kurt kneels right between them. He can feel the heat radiating from Blaine’s skin, his cock twitches almost painfully.

“I want you so much.”

Blaine positively whines, eyes flying open and fixing on Kurt and his hands coming up to grip Kurt’s arms.

“Then take me, please.”

Kurt leans down until his lips brush right against Blaine’s.

“As you wish, love.”

Blaine’s fingers sink in his hair pulling him close and Kurt doesn’t waste time, pushing his tongue past plush lips. He licks and bites and swallows Blaine’s moans.

They start off rutting against each other, like puppies, like they did in the back of Blaine’s car when they were sixteen. Then Kurt slides down until his breath is ghosting over the tip of Blaine’s cock. He looks up, at those beautiful eyes glinting with lust, at those lips red and raw because of all the kissing. He sinks down without warning. The music sheets rustle as Blaine throws his head back, hands coming to rest gently at Kurt’s nape.

It’s difficult to put it into words, what Kurt feels at moments like this. When all that matters is to make Blaine feel good. Or how his whole being is set on fire by the knowledge that he is the only one who can do this for Blaine. Kurt takes him as deep as he can and lets Blaine move, his cock dragging past his lips, hot and heavy and perfect as nothing else can ever be.

“K-Kurt!”

His sight is slightly blurred when he lifts his gaze. Blaine is looking down at him, all awe and need.

“Can you…”

Reluctantly Kurt pulls back.

“Tell me what you want, love.”

Blaine’s whole body seems to shake before he answers, his voice low.

“Fuck me.”

Kurt nods before pressing a finger against Blaine’s lips. Obediently his tongue darts out to lick at it. It sends ripples of pleasure down Kurt’s spine.

He is careful not to hurt Blaine, he knows lube would be the best solution but he has also learned that he can’t leave Blaine when he is so needy. Kurt opens him slowly, his fingers caressing and prodding until Blaine is pushing back against them, fluttering and squeezing.

It is almost painful to resist and not push inside in this very instant, but Kurt lifts his gaze from his fingers and searches Blaine’s face. He smiles and nods. He is beautiful and Kurt knows he will never stop feeling like this about him. All the love and the need and the want wrapped up together.

The tip of his cock slips inside Blaine and heat licks up at Kurt’s organs. Heat everywhere and Blaine’s back arching almost painfully, trying to draw him in deeper.

“Fuck, baby! Please!”

Blaine babbles and asks and pleads and orders. Kurt follows his mostly incoherent words and fucks him harder and deeper. Until all he can feel his the pulsing of Blaine’s heart, all around him, down his cock and up to his heart. He sinks and sinks, as Blaine wraps his legs around his waist, loops his arms around his neck and kisses him with all he’s got. Kurt’s hands slip on the music sheet spread around them, the rustling of paper echoes in his ears along with the sound of skin slapping against skin. He bites down on Blaine’s shoulder. His moan reverberates in the almost non-existent space left between their sweaty bodies. It’s glorious.

“Kurt, ah…Kurt.”

He slams back in harder, stars starting to twinkle at the corner of his eyes.

“C-Come for me, Blaine. Do it.”

Blaine’s nails dig in his shoulders. Blaine’s voice breaking around his name over and over until warmth splashes against Kurt’s stomach and Blaine’s body clenches around him. Kurt presses his forehead to Blaine’s breastbone, eyes clenched close, his hips snapping fast. Until nothing exists except for the pleasure erupting everywhere inside of him. Except Blaine’s lips brushing gently against his temple and his body solid and open and his.

*

They are still on the floor, naked and surrounded by paper. There are tiny black spots on the back of Blaine’s arms and legs, where they pressed for too long against the paper and notes got stamped on his skin.

Blaine grins.

“Still upset about the music sheets?”

“You’re still going to tidy up this mess, mister.”

Blaine’s laugh is like the sun and Kurt drinks it all, his lips pressed against smooth skin. Blaine sighs happily and Kurt pulls himself up on his elbow.

Kurt always loves Blaine, every minute and every second. But now, looking at him happy and sated surrounded by notes and music Kurt is sure his heart could burst with joy.