British Prime Minister, Kurt Hummel, still couldn't believe the events of the day. As far as he was concerned, the American president has gotten what he deserved and that was all that mattered. He loosened his tie as he flicked on his little, old radio that sat on his ageing chest of drawers. He liked the authentic feel of his widely-known house: 10 Downing Street.

Kurt had just shrugged off his suit jacket and undone the top button if his now wrinkled, white shirt when he took notice of the end of the news article he'd turned on a few moments previous.

It's almost enough to make you feel patriotic! So here's one for our ass-kicking prime minister. I think he'll enjoy this; a golden oldie for a golden oldie.

Kurt almost scoffed when they started playing The Pointer Sisters' Jump. What idiot would think he would like this? The intro started and he discarded his tie on the discoloured chair by the window and turned to stare out at the street below.

You're excited I can feel you getting hotter, oh baby, the radio crooned as he absent mindedly started bopping his hip in time with the song's beat.

Kurt almost groaned when he realised the song was actually catchy and couldn't help but start embarrassingly shaking his arms to the beat as well. I mean, c'mon! He couldn't remember the last time he had something to be this happy about.

He started shaking his hips from side to side as he slid his feet backwards in the most daddy-dancing style moon walk he could muster and pointed his fingers out like guns to either side of himself.

And if you want more, if you want more, if you want more, more, more...

Kurt shuffled out of his room and headed towards the large staircase in the house's centre. He made it down a few steps shuffling, lost in the song, when the chorus came.

JUMP!

Kurt stopped at the top of the last stretch of stairs and threw his arms up. He almost ended up chucking himself haphazardly down the undoubtedly high final few stairs in his excitement. He was swept up in song.

He took it back.

All of it.

That radio station knew his favourite way to celebrate better than he did.

The song continued, allowing him to discover his ability to leap through the empty hallways and even end up shuffling sideways in a crab-like move through the small corridors between rooms.

He didn't realise how big his new home was.

It was when he shuffled into the large front room –Dirty Dancing style as he shuffled with his feet taking two steps at a time and pointing his arm out in a way that looked more YMCA than Grease (though he admittedly had seen both) –that he heard a timid cough.

He spun round instantly to see one of his staff standing in the doorway with a surprised look on his face –which was flushing a delicate shade of red.

Kurt cursed himself mentally when he realised who it was.

Blaine.

Blaine was the short, dark-haired, and attractive butler – (although he refused to call him that, there was no need to call them like servants if they were being paid!) –who had caused Kurt to make a fool of himself before his live speech discussion with the President of the United States of America.

Saying that, it wasn't actually Blaine's fault!

The President had been too close to Blaine through the entire pre-meeting that when he put a hand on his thigh it was the last straw.

"Mr. Hummel?" Blaine questioned.

Technically, his staff was not supposed to question his actions, just ignore them. Yet, Blaine had always been the exception to that rule.

"Yeah, err... Blaine. I've been thinking. Can we move the Japanese ambassador to 4o'clock tomorrow?"

Kurt mentally kicked himself as soon as he said it.

Blaine, however, looked more than amused. He was quite obviously biting his lip to hide a smile as he replied with a simple, "certainly, sir".

Kurt stood awkwardly trying to think of something else to say to his attractive, young staff member when he spoke himself.

"Anything else, Mr. Hummel?" Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"Kurt, please."

"Anything else, Kurt?" Blaine corrected himself.

Kurt looked the boy over. He held himself in a polite manner that suggested he meant only business, but his eyes gave him away. They let Kurt delve deeper.

"Well..." Kurt dragged the word out on his tongue, rolling it around his mouth. He watched Blaine's neck swallow and his Adam's apple bob once. Kurt shrugged nonchalantly. I believe I require you to follow me to my office immediately.

Blaine's eyes widened and Kurt could see him trying hard to feign grin off his face.

It was as if Blaine was repeating the same mantra he was:

Calm, cool, flirtatious.

Blaine stayed two steps behind Kurt as they walked to his office; Kurt trying not to skip with excitement as he knew Blaine was probably watching him closely.

When they reached the office, Kurt opened the door wide for Blaine to step through. Waiting patiently until he had done so, Kurt followed and pushed the door firmly closed.

Kurt turned to see Blaine leaning back on his arms which were perched on Kurt's desk. He was smirking.

"So, Mr H- Kurt. What do you require of me?"

Kurt took a step closer.

"Ah, that's just the thing," he circled his desk and sat down in his chair, "I require something that may ask a lot of you. I'm not sure if you're up for it."

Blaine turned himself so that he was looking Kurt dead in the eyes. He leaned forward onto the desk again and propped himself up onto his elbow, chin in his palm, and smirk tugging lightly at the corner of his lips.

"Well, I don't know, Mr Hummel. It would depend on your requirements," Blaine drummed his fingers upon his cheek in mock-thought; his eyes stayed trained on Kurt.

Kurt looked down at his already slightly unbuttoned shirt.

"This shirt is causing me bother," he said, faking a sigh.

"Bother? Oh no!" Blaine played along with the little game, "Is there anything I can do to help."

Kurt sighed again, "You see, it doesn't seem to like me very much. I think I might need to remove it as soon as possible."

Blaine lifted himself from the desk and began to walk slowly round it.

"That is a problem," he pretended to agree, "But why can't you just undo the buttons?"

Blaine stopped not even a foot from where Kurt sat. He looked down at the important, pining man and gave Kurt a clear view of his dramatic, innocent face.

Kurt grinned.

"I believe it does not like me doing so. I may need some assistance."

"Would you like me to call Mary?" Blaine asked in a sickly-sweet tone that, if Kurt didn't know the truth behind it, would have fallen for it instantly. He held back a groan as Blaine took a step further, pressing his weight into Kurt as he laid his hands on either side of Kurt's chest.

Kurt let out a breathless whimper, "I think it would be best not to bother her."

Blaine stroked his fingertips down the thin shirt, knowing full-well the impact it was having on Kurt.

"Alfred?" he asked, his fingers grazing lightly across the seam of his waistband.

"Fuck, Blaine," Kurt gritted his teeth to stifle a groan.

"I take that as a no," Blaine shook his head. He hooked his fingers under the material of Kurt's pants and his fingers came in contact with the tender skin of Kurt's lower stomach. He leaned his head forward until his lips were grazing against Kurt's ear.

"Janie?" he breathed.

"Blaine..."

Kurt whined, the hot breath of the man practically on him driving him insane.

Blaine chuckled lightly into Kurt's ear before dragging his lips away and brushing them across his neck, then his jaw, until they lightly brushed across Kurt's lips.

Kurt whimpered, causing Blaine to take pity on him. He pushed his lips onto Kurt's briefly for a first, chaste kiss and Kurt couldn't get enough of the taste.

When Blaine connected their lips again, Kurt couldn't help his tongue darting out helplessly to taste more.

Blaine moaned into Kurt's mouth as he explored it further. He wedged Kurt's mouth open with his tongue and pushed roughly in, earning a grab at his shirt from Kurt.

His fingers, still under Kurt's waistband retracted as he pulled away slightly. Kurt looked briefly upset so Blaine pushed him into another kiss.

"I decided you are wearing far too many clothes," Blaine explained, causing Kurt rip at his shirt desperately. Blaine grabbed his hands, shaking his head.

"No, no, no, that's my job, remember?" He gave a devilish smirk before replacing Kurt's hands with his own. He dragged his fingers from each button until it was gaping open, revealing Kurt's chest.

"My, my, Prime Minister. No undershirt?" he teased.

Kurt hit him lightly on the back where his hands lay.

"My shirts are too tight for that. You'd be able to see it," Kurt said, earning an appreciative moan as Blaine took in Kurt's toned chest.

Blaine shrugged Kurt's shirt off his shoulders and bent to drag his tongue over the small of Kurt's neck.

"Mmpf," was all Kurt could say as he bucked up in his chair. Blaine moaned aloud at the contact and quickly ripped his own shirt off. He aligned his already-hard crotch with Kurt's and rolled down. Kurt's groan was like music to his ears as he repeated it again and again.

"Blaine," Kurt choked out.

Blaine stopped, concerned. Surely Kurt couldn't be close yet.

"We have to move off this chair," Kurt said, going pink, "my back..."

Blaine jumped up immediately.

"Oh my god, Kurt. I am so sorry," he said looking away and biting his lip. Kurt smiled fondly and, in one quick movement, swiped the contents of his desk onto the floor.

Blaine gaped with wide-eyes before rearranging his expression.

"I may be your staff but we are both cleaning up," Blaine shook his head.

Kurt let out a shrilling laugh as Blaine realised what he said.

"Honey, I think that's kind of the idea," he mocked.

Blaine grunted and, instead of replying, grabbed Kurt around the waist and pushed him onto the desk. Kurt's back came in contact with the hard wood as Blaine grinded himself onto Kurt; both of them moaning at the contact.

"You are wearing far too many clothes," Blaine said after a few rolls of his hips. He lifted himself off reluctantly to fiddle with Kurt's zip. Once achieving his objective, he slid Kurt's pants and boxers off and threw them onto the discarded chair. He almost groaned and came front the sight of Kurt bare in front of him.

"You're beautiful."

Kurt's eyes flickered in surprise. He didn't reply, he only said, "Pants. Off. Now..."

Blaine complied, discarding his clothes on the floor and no caring where they end up.

Kurt's breathing hitched slightly as he took in the sight of Blaine. He was so close already. Nobody had ever been like this with him. He's the first gay British Prime Minister, and so many people had opinions on that.

But not Blaine. Blaine brought him his tea and spoke to him like a normal human being. Hell, Blaine even put up with his dancing.

"...Kurt?" Blaine's voice brought Kurt back in the room, "I know my cock's beautiful but you don't have to cry about it?" he tried to joke.

Kurt's hand flitted to his eyes. He didn't realise he had started tearing up. What was wrong with him? Blaine was going to think him an idiot.

"Hey, Kurt!" Blaine's concerned voice was closer than he expected and he looked up to see a fully-naked Blaine looking worriedly down at him.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Kurt smiled lightly at him.

"You're so nice to me. Nobody's this nice. Nobody," he said, shaking his hand.

"I'm nice because I like you and you're amazing, Kurt!" Blaine took Kurt's hand, "And nobody's like you. You care for everybody. You're compassionate about what you do and I like you because of that."

Kurt let out a disbelieving sob and Blaine quickly wrapped his arms around him.

Kurt whispered, "I like you too, Blaine", earning a smile ghosting his forehead.

The arms stayed around him for a few moments. The arms of a beautiful, caring, amazing, naked- wait! They were in the middle of something.

"Erm, Blaine?"

"Yes, honey?" Blaine smiled at him as he lifted his head.

"I am such a bonar-killer," Kurt grimaced.

Blaine let out a laugh at Kurt's choice of words, but didn't bring him up on it.

"I'll forgive you," he said, pressing a kiss to Kurt's shoulder, "But will you forgive me for this?"

He slowly pressed kisses down Kurt's torso and Kurt whimpered. He ghosted his lips over Kurt's lower stomach until he reached his cock. He looked up.

"May I?"

Kurt barely managed to groan out a reply at the thought of it before Blaine pressed a kiss to the tip of Kurt's erection where pre-come was already leaking out the slit. Without warning, he sunk his lips over the head and sucked; Kurt bucked up immediately. Blaine slowly took him in more as Kurt tried not to get to carried away. Too soon, Kurt was reaching his limits.

"Blaine" he whined.

Blaine retracted to look Kurt in the eye. He had a dark look in his own.

"Fuck my mouth" he whispered.

Kurt gasped out a groan, "Say that again!"

Blaine smirked.

"Fuck," his tongue licked the slit of the head of Kurt's cock and Kurt made the most endearingly hot noises that Blaine couldn't help but continue.

"My," he repeated the tongue movement before releasing again.

"Mouth," he almost whispered.

Immediately, Blaine took Kurt in again, who bucked his hips repeatedly as Blaine took him as deep as possible.

Kurt was caught up in how hot it was that he could not only do this, but look so fucking innocent at the same time. He grabbed for Blaine's hair and gave a warning and that was all Blaine needed to suck hard on the whole length.

Kurt came with Blaine's name on his lips and slunk back against the desk. Immediately after, Blaine came from the sheer sight of Kurt sweaty and wrecked. He laid down on the over-sized desk next to Kurt and lay his head back.

"Woah," was all Kurt could say.

"Woah," Blaine agreed, and the pair giggled shamelessly at each other.

Kurt had many perks of being Prime Minister, but he liked to think that this was one he got just from being Kurt.