At night, every night, for the last week, Kurt lies awake until the early hours of the morning just staring, grinning, uncontrollably at the shadowy ceiling. A week. Seven days. One hundred and forty eight hours and then some and he bites his bottom lip tonight to stop from laughing out loud at the thought. Just a week and already every single bad thing in his life has been crushed to the back of his mind, forgotten, because all, all, he can think of is how incredibly lucky he is. Because he has Blaine. And he is the sweetest, cutest, most lovely thing on the planet as far as Kurt is concerned and he is his.

What started with a kiss – and oh what a kiss – had never made it to awkward because Kurt had already said his piece, had already done awkward when weeks before over coffee he had tried to take the edge off his friends embarrassment and had ended up admitting something he needed to hear himself saying out loud. It was as close to saying 'Blaine, I'm desperately, desperately in love with you so much so that I imaged that you loved me back,' as Kurt could bring himself to utter but Blaine had understood and Kurt had convinced himself to soldier on, lonely but settling for more than nothing. So now, no awkwardness; Kurt had made his feelings for Blaine clear and when Blaine – usually so rehearsed, so self-assured – murmured and muttered his way to 'You move me', what followed was natural.

Later, after they'd pulled themselves apart at the sound of echoing footsteps in the hall, suddenly aware of where they were, they had first stared and then talked. Blaine spoke unevenly, searching for the right word or phrase to make Kurt understand, trying to convey an apology in taking so long but also making an argument for now it being right and perfect and did he feel it too? But that bit was rhetorical and Kurt just settled himself on the edge of the table in the elegant Dalton sitting room, hands holding onto the edge and his feet kicking back and forth as this adorable man paced and rambled in front of him. He was so used to being the flustered one that seeing Blaine like this, a hand playing at his hair occasionally and his gaze a little big shaky, was strangely intriguing. But it wasn't awkward and every time Blaine ran out of words and it might have been they kept staring and smiling and eventually Blaine would start talking again.

Until he really did run out of works and had to come clean and just dive in because Kurt seemed perfectly happy to just sit there and listen. "What do you want to do with this?" Blaine asked, moving to stand in front of Kurt, unsure of what to do with his hands and settling, boldly, with laying them dormant but warm, on Kurt's knees.

Kurt's brown furrowed, genuinely confused. "With what?"

"With us," he motioned between them. "Do you want to start dating, going out or be boyfriends of is that too fast for you?" A worried glance up from his hands on Kurt's legs. "Because if it is I am totally okay with that."

A smile graced Kurt's lips and it almost made Blaine feel as good as what was said next. "I want to keep kissing you." Kurt batted Blaine away with a laugh at the other boy's eagerness and obvious pleasure at his answer. "And everything else you said, the going out and dating and being "boyfriends"," he lifted his hands to emphasize the quotation marks. "I'm not into labels," a thrill raced up his spine as Blaine's expression faltered, "But they're all kind of the same thing and we spend so much time together anyway. I think it'll kind of be the same but with more kissing."

"A lot more kissing," Blaine corrected, leaning forward and squeezing Kurt's knees as he oh-so-endearingly bumped noses with Kurt and then coerced his lips into opening slightly beneath his. It was slow and gentle and not unlike their first kiss but very unlike their second and when did Kurt start putting their kisses into categories?

With a start, the younger boy pulled back and blurted, "But this is…" and then fumbled wondering if he was being silly and wondering what the word was and blushing crimson, "exclusive," he whispered.

"Of course," Blaine answered, in seriousness and the smile that reasserted itself on Kurt's lips made him bold and a hand moved from his knee to skirt up a thigh, ghost over his ribs and slide against Kurt's cheek and angle his mouth back against his.

Not long after, their kisses still measured, still investigative, still tame, a cough alerted them to another's presence when a stray Warbler happened upon them. Twenty minutes after that the pair has to sit, blushing uncontrollably, as a choir of grinning fools sang Etta James's At Last to them and then collapsed into a mess of catcalls and laughter that afforded the pair the chance to slip away.

That was a week ago and since then there has been plenty of kissing and holding hands and furtive glances. They've had coffee four times after school which wasn't out of the ordinary, nor was the movie they went to see but going out for a proper dinner and holding hands under the table, that was special and new and wonderful. It's been nice and yesterday when Kurt's dad asked his son across the dinner table why he'd been walking on air all week Kurt had felt comfortable enough to answer.

"Blaine and I are dating." And as much he proclaimed to hate labels he found himself adding, "He's my boyfriend."

Finn was staring from his step-father to his step-brother and Carole was beaming but Kurt held his dad's gaze.

"I thought you two were just friends," Burt pointed out, aiming for nonchalance and coming up just short.

"We were," Kurt replied primly. "But then there was a moment and now we're more." He had to bite back the threatening speech about how Blaine said he moved him and sat waiting for his father's response.

"Is this why that boy told me I had to talk to you about sex?"

Finn's eyes dropped to his plate and Kurt's brow creased. "What?"

Burt struggled to keep his anger simmering. "That boy, Blaine, visited me a few weeks ago and told me I had to talk to you. That's why I got you those pamphlets."

A spluttering cough escaped Finn but Kurt just nodded slowly, remaining calm. "No," he told his father solidly. "We weren't dating then. I think he was just looking out for me. As a friend," he pressed as Burt continued to look unconvinced. "And no to your next question, nothing is going to happen."

All eyes moved to Burt: "You sure? This boy, he's no pressuring you into anything you don't wan to do? Because if he is, even a little bit, I want you to come to me."

One side of Kurt's lips tugged upwards as he quickly recognized and dubbed this 'over-protective dad' mode before agreeing to Burt's request and watching him relax back into his chair. Some days he really loved his dad.

That was yesterday and today at dinner, emboldened, he'd told everyone about their dinner out on Friday night and what they'd eaten and the stunning d�cor and how Blaine had won over the waitress and scored them a table near the window and extra large slices of dessert. He didn't tell them how they'd split the desserts, cheekily spooning chocolate cake and ice cream into the other's mouth when no one else was looking and trying not to giggle or make a mess. He didn't mention the warmth he felt low in his stomach or the flush he'd felt creeping up his neck. Instead when his dad had smiled and it had been real he's asked if Blaine could come over after school the next day.

His dad had said yes and it was agreed upon even though they'd be alone in the house with Finn already having planned something to do with girls and his dad and Carole out for date night at Breadsticks. Kurt promised nothing untoward would occur and agreed Blaine would be there before Burt left so he could be stared down and would be out of the house by nine that night.

Now it's almost one in the morning the night before and they've been together for a week and they're happy and his dad's happy (mostly) for them and tomorrow they'll be alone and it won't be stolen kisses behind trees or chaste pecks between class. It will be like that first (and second and third) kiss; long, languid and exploratory and Kurt will be able to melt against his boyfriend and into the heat of it all. It's almost two am by the time his imagination finally lets him fall asleep.

So it is that the next day, Tuesday, just a little before 6 o'clock, there's a knock at the front door and a mad rush as Kurt moves fast and Finn pushes past and Burt tries very hard not to stare daggers. But Blaine is smiling even as Finn moves past him with a "Hey man," and is out the door.

At his questioning look Kurt just shrugs and says something about Rachel or Quinn and indecision and then invites him in and Finn is forgotten.

"Hi," is all Blaine can manage at the suddenly imposing Burt Hummel who is watching him with crossed arms.

"Hi Blaine, how you going?" Not quite an interrogation. Yet.

By the way Kurt's looking between them, Blaine correctly determines that this conversation is important. Trying to sound casual, he answers, bravely moving to stand beside Kurt. "Good, things are good. How are you?"

Kurt smirks, that typical Kurt smirk, at the surprisingly level voice of his boyfriend and his father pushes a little harder. "Fine. What have you boys got planned for tonight?"

Blaine shrugs noncommittally. "I'm not really sure, Kurt said he was going to whip up something to eat and then we'll probably try to study a bit and end up watching TV." It's a good answer, a convincing answer and Burt looks decidedly more at ease and somehow Blaine just knows Kurt's fighting to not grab his hand in the excitement of this going well. "Oh," he says, as though just remembering, "And we'll probably practice a bit, of course."

Kurt does not miss the implication there, or the reference, or the accidental bump of hands but his father does, obviously assuming singing is all they're talking about and before he can press for more details Carole is at his side, greeting Blaine in the same breath as saying goodbye and bustling her husband out the door with a well-timed wink at Kurt.

The door clicks shut and their hands find each other and grasp in what is already an instinctual move. "Practice, huh?" Kurt queries in his coyest of voices as he moves to stand in front of Blaine.

The other boy just hums a response that's meant to make it sound like he has no idea what Kurt's talking about but loses any such effect when their lips meet and that hot liquid feeling immediately unfurls in Kurt's stomach and settles in for the night. His thumb moves softly over the back of Blaine's grasped hand and his other hand frames the strong jaw as he presses his lips closer, caressing and feeling and not having to worry about interruption. He feels a hand at his waist, unbelievably hot through his over-sized sweater and doesn't panic like he expected himself to because it is all just hot pressure and drifting fingers and then the tongue tracing his lips diverts his attention and this, this, is what he wants. This is what they started a week ago, this is the tongue he'd tasted and licked at and maybe just a little bit moaned against and now they have hours so he opens his mouth against Blaine's, intensely aware of the other's boy's movements.

Blaine acquiesces immediately, hand gripping tighter at Kurt's waist and pulling him close enough to feel the proximity as their tongues meet tentatively and then fall into a natural rhythm of caress. Oxygen quickly becomes scarce and Blaine makes a mental note to see if he can't find a way around the inescapable pull back that's now occurring though the last, slightly mistimed swipe of Kurt's tongue catching his bottom lip and the sight of a gasping smile makes his mental note-taking stop. They stay close, grinning and both hands grasping the other's until Kurt wistfully murmurs "Practice" and the spell is broken and they laugh out loud and move into the kitchen.

As Kurt starts pulling ingredients from cupboards Blaine watches, admiring Kurt in a way he wouldn't dare to in public and probably wouldn't dare to if Kurt was paying attention. He's just about to ask about Kurt's fifth period test when Kurt asks, a picture of innocence, "So I heard you told my dad he had to talk to me about sex."

Blaine has the decency to blush as Kurt pauses to watch his reaction and at the cocked eyebrow facing him and his own mounting realization, the older boy's expression quickly turns to mortification. He can see how this might look. "I didn't –" only to be cut off as Kurt talks over him.

"Don't worry. I assured my father you advised sex education well before you had any non-platonic thoughts about me. I've also told him you're a complete gentleman and that he has nothing to worry about." Kurt flashes a brilliant, happy smile and moves to continue organizing dinner but Blaine's still not so convinced this is all okay, particularly at Kurt's discussing it as though it's the weather and that last comment is more than a little disconcerting. Because there should have been a telltale waggle of eyebrows or a heated gaze exchanged and instead Kurt well and truly seems to believe what he's saying. Careful, ever so careful, because he is a gentleman and the last thing he wants to be accused of is pushing too hard or scaring him off, Blaine wonders how to approach this.

It's minutes later when he says, "So your dad did talk to you?"

Kurt's engaged in mixing something in a bowl and looks at him blankly before realizing what he's referring to. "A little. He gave me pamphlets and just told me to be smart about it."

At least he isn't snapping shut like last time. "And you read the pamphlets?"

Kurt is starting to look confused and Blaine, in his expert experience of Kurt's flight mechanism can see the beginnings of fear in his eyes. He answers slowly and concentrates on his bowl. "Yeah and…I get the mechanics. As I told you, I've seen those movies and I get what it is and what happens. I just don't agree with it."

Bizarre. "You don't agree with it?"

"No," Kurt finally looks up, defiant in stance and gaze and whereas Blaine had managed to convince himself that his boyfriend's previous aversion to all things sex was, well, previous, he's shocked to find himself wrong and just a little bit angered by it. Weren't their kisses a prelude? Wasn't the whole point sex? Of some sort? Not that he just wanted Kurt for sex or anything ludicrous like that but didn't every teenage boy want to have sex? Not that he was in a rush. Most days he felt like he could spend the next decade just kissing Kurt's lips except, invariably, when he was, even chaste and stolen and momentary, he had to fight the urge to move his lips elsewhere or explore with his hands. And then there was late at night when Kurt's innocent eyes weren't there to judge him or persuade him to slow down.

Taking a calming breath, still primarily concerned with not spooking Kurt, he tries not to sound upset when he asks, "Are you not attracted to me?" Another arched eyebrow and it only serves to anger him further as Kurt reacts like it's a pretty stupid question. "Because when I kiss you I feel like you are and you told me you were so I'm just a bit confused."

"Blaine," and this isn't the first time he's talked like he's explaining something to a child, "Of course I like the kissing, I just don't have any plans on progressing beyond that. I thought I'd made my feelings about this clear." And now he does sound a little bit hurt.

"What? Never?" comes Blaine's incredulous exclamation. "And why?"

"I don't know," Kurt fires back, more upset than anything that they are arguing. "Not never, just not now. I told you, I like romance, I like what we've got now and I'm not good at sexy." A look that Blaine only barely has time to register as potentially approximating self-loathing and he's scrambling to remember exactly what Kurt had said all that time ago before kicking him out because he'd wanted to have 'a conversation'. And he's trying to keep listening because Kurt's still talking. "Surely we've established that. I'm not like you, I can't walk around looking like that and making all the girls swoon or dance around a room and transfix everyone's gaze with my ass just because of the way I move and smile and flirt."

The anger seeps from Blaine's face and a smile tugs at his lips as a suspicion forms; this is suddenly his domain again: confident, flirtatious, smooth. "Three things," and Kurt's eyes narrow at the sudden change in tone. "Firstly, I never ever said you weren't sexy." Kurt looks like he wants to argue schematics but a raised finger stops him. "Second, you just mentioned my ass which I will only take to mean you've looked." Kurt's mouth snaps shut and a hand covers it, though Blaine's not sure whether it's to hide shame or a smile. "And thirdly, I'm never ever going to force anything with you. Ever. But I'm starting to thing coercion wouldn't be the worst idea in the world."

Kurt really looks like he wants to argue now but doesn't know where to start and, with a hand still clamped over his mouth, Blaine has ample time to cross the small kitchen, capture both Kurt's wrists in his hands, removing the barrier to his mouth and press his lips to his. Kurt makes a small sound of surprise and objection which is very quickly swallowed and forgotten as Blaine's tongue finds his and this is not slow and exploratory, this is impassioned and what little practice they've had is paying off because Blaine has identified a spot behind Kurt's teeth that is just bliss. It's distracting and, perhaps, for the first real time, Kurt forgets himself and is more surprised than the boy in front of him when his breath catches and a small, almost silent moan escapes him. Blaine's lips curve up under his and he sags back against the bench behind him even as the kiss deepens and he can taste him. So, so distracted by keeping up with Blaine's mouth, at keeping pace with his tongue and the press of his lips that when his hands are placed on Blaine's hips he just grips and doesn't recognize the manipulation. Blaine's own hands, no longer needed to control Kurt's, raises to cradle his face, fingers stretched across a cheek each and drifting in a soft caress.

His motives, again, are somewhat ulterior and when he catches Kurt's tongue in his mouth and sucks he's pleased he doesn't have to hold him tightly at all, just angle his head so that he can shift his mouth away, scraping teeth daringly over tongue and then lips and then the sharp angle of his jaw. Just sucking and kissing, hot and wet and a little bit sloppy and relishing the way Kurt's now angling his head back for him and arching against the kitchen bench and grasping at his hips like they're the only thing anchoring him to reality. When he skims his lips to the spot where jaw meets ear and neck he sucks harder still and feels something low in Kurt's throat a moment before he hears the groan escape and then dares himself and then Kurt.

"I dare you to grab my ass."

And if the sound of Blaine, voice husky and breathless and an octave lower than usual weren't enough, the feeling of hot, wet breath on his neck and then his mouth on his earlobe would be and Kurt complies without thinking, both hands moving quickly from hips to Blaine's backside and resting a moment before squeezing experimentally, liking the feel of tense flesh under his fingers; malleable and firm. Now it's Blaine's turn to moan and he forgets to keep kissing at Kurt and his head falls to Kurt's shoulder as he sucks in a breath of air. Kurt's hands linger there for a moment more and then they're both moving away form each other, a quick kiss, open-mouthed and temptingly fleeting, reassuring them both.

Blaine just stares at the no-longer immaculate man in front of him: Kurt's lips wet and pink, his face flushed along with his neck where there is just the faintest trail of red crescents proving what has just happened but fading quickly. His hair's messed and his chest is rising and falling too quickly. And he's smiling. And mostly Blaine can't imagine anything sexier and just wants to say that but is too smart to think Kurt will believe him. He's steeling himself, too, because they weren't even touching that much and it was only a kiss, albeit heated, and he wanted so desperately to feel his body flush against Kurt's but is so terrified because, extrapolating from recent events he is going to go up in flames and incoherence when he feels that.

"Can we leave dinner for a bit?" For at least a little while Blaine will argue that he wasn't making his voice low and ragged on purpose and that's at least a little bit true.

Kurt's mind whirls, the overwhelming mass of feeling from the last few minutes boiling down to a few choice words in a mind heavily drugged with something foreign: "hot" and "please' and 'Blaine' and 'touch' and 'more' and 'god' and 'damn' and he didn't know he could string such a silly combination together and then he heard himself say 'Yes' and that is that.

Blaine grabs his hand and leads him, at almost a jog, up the stairs only to pull Kurt against him at the top, just outside his door, and kiss him as soundly and as convincingly as he can.

"You trust me?"

Kurt's heart flutters at the words whispered against his lips because how many times has he heard that line in the movies? He thinks, actually thinks, through the haze and the absurd close up of the man in front of him and finds himself thinking, then saying, "Yes" again.

"Good." Blaine's hand moves behind him and opens the door and he pulls Kurt into the bedroom after him. At the panic that flits across the younger boy's face, Blaine quickly reassures, confidently, patiently: "I'm telling you again, I am not going to force you to do anything. You say stop and I will."

Kurt gives him a nod and another kiss and now he's lost count and categories were a dumb idea and who would have ever thought he'd find a boy to lose count of kisses with? He's pushed back onto his own bed and Blaine is standing back and considering things, looking around the room and at Kurt and the crease of inquiry between his brows.

"I think we have to start again with you," Blaine says cryptically. "Do you think you're sexy?"

Instant discomfort crosses Kurt's face as he crosses his legs and then his arms, arching his back and almost whines, "Blaine, I think I've made myself clear on this topic. I am perfectly happy to kiss you and if you want to kiss me you will stop asking me this. You were the one the laughed at me when I tried to be sexy. It's just not part of my repertoire and you need to accept that."

Blaine does not look put off in the slightest and that is worrying. He just mumbles agreement before continuing. "I'm sorry for that. I mean, I didn't say you were unsexy, I just didn't really see it when you were trying. But that's besides the point."

"Oh really?" Kurt was so sure of himself.

"Yeah, besides the point. Why don't you want to have sex?"

"Because I'm not ready."

"No, you're not saying lets take this slow and let it escalate, you're saying you're not interested period. Why?"

Oh he is pushy and the most disturbing thing is that Kurt can still feel the knot of heat inside him, making him look at Blaine not just with anger and frustration but with something much more dangerous. He pushes the thought away. "Because it just doesn't interest me. I told you it just makes me uncomfortable and depressed and I don't want to think about it."

Blaine, now well and truly with a plan, almost fires back before Kurt has finished. "Liar!" So much for arguing for an honest, trusting relationship. That will come later. "Are you not attracted to me?"

"I am not lying," Kurt retorts, voice high. "And of course, of course I am attracted to you why do you think I've been fawning over you for months and now that I have you I'm happy?"

"Fine, fine," hands raised between them to try to calm him, to try to centre himself because this is where he opens himself up. "What attracts you? About me?"

If Kurt detects the trace of hesitance he's doesn't have time to process it because this is the most unbelievable conversation and one he did not want to have tonight. He splutters, staring wildly at Blaine who is shifting from one foot to the other in front of him. "I don't know. Everything."

Blaine looks seriously displeased with this answer and Kurt can only try again because as much as this kind of counts as their first fight he still wants to please. "Fine…where would you like me to start? The beginning? I'm attracted to the way you were lovely to me when you didn't know me and how you grabbed my hand and smiled and warmed me up from the inside out. And your voice, it's so smooth and comfortable and you know what you've got and you show it off. You flirted! That first day with those eyes and that smile, you flirted with me and no one has ever done that."

Blaine's expression is blank and Kurt doesn't even know what the conversation is meant to be leading to but he pushes on because now that's it's started he has to tell him. "That was the friendship. You accepted me and talked to me and then you paid me special attention because you liked me. I was so sure of that and I jumped to something more too soon but you caught up. And in the mean time I was more and more attracted to you. I like…" he falters for the first time in the tirade and Blaine is ready to prod him into spilling more but doesn't need to because Kurt just keeps telling himself that he trusts this boy and if he breaks his heart then so be it because if he doesn't the risk will have been worth it.

"I like every single inch of you. You think I just sat around for all those weeks of you pining after GAP-boy and Rachel? I watched and I dreamt about your eyes and your hair and your skin. Everything was considered and thought about late at night and it made me so, so sad but that doesn't matter because now we're together and I can think about it and be happy. And don't get me started on the actual you because I am attracted to all of that, too. The soft arrogance that I think is maybe all fa�ade and the shadows of something dorky and individual that I want to know more of and your laugh though I hardly ever hear the real one." He stops suddenly, either from being out of ammo or from registering the total amount of hopelessly romantic drivel he has just spewed at his boyfriend of one week who was trying to make a point about him being frigid and is now smirking just a little. "What?"

"You forgot to mention my ass," Blaine quips and Kurt just rolls his eyes in an attempt to divert attention from his reddening cheeks. Blaine lets it slide. "So you're not asexual. And I could now wax lyrical about everything I like about you but we don't have the time. Suffice it to say I think you're sexy and I need you to admit something to me and trust me with it."

Utterly confused and once again wanting to argue or crawl into a corner and hide because if acting sexy in front of the boy of his dreams and getting nothing in return weren't enough, getting laughed at was and he didn't need more of that. With a sigh he sees no way out but to comply so he nods.

Blaine reddens. Blushes deep and he looks down and Kurt wastes time admiring the silhouette of eyelashes against skin. "I've never had a proper boyfriend," Blaine confesses, sounding unsure of himself. "I've kissed boys and held hands and it doesn't hold a candle to what I feel with you. Beyond that I've had countless crushes on people I know and the clich� actors and singers and whatever." Kurt's arms and legs have uncrossed and he's staring intently, happy to glean whatever he can but with no idea of the path of this conversation. "You've been the same?"

Kust makes a noncommittal noise, not prepared to discuss rabid crushes when his most intense is standing in front of him and his first real life one is now his half-brother.

Blaine pushes on, shoving his hands in his pockets in the process and refusing to make eye-contact. "And we're teenage boys living in the twenty first century and you've already said you've watched porn so I'm going to assume – but I need you to tell me – that…" his words fail him and he wishes Kurt would work out what he's asked but Kurt does not and feeling like his cheeks are on fire he asks: "You…touch yourself?"

Kurt gives a sharp laugh of what sounds like actual amusement and brings Blaine's eyes up again. "Well of course I touch myself, I have a very intensive skin care regime and –" he cuts himself off, realization dawning and if he hadn't seen it for himself Blaine would not have guessed Kurt was capable of such cluelessness. "Oh. You're asking if…"

This is almost unbearably uncomfortable.

"Yeah," Kurt squeaks and Blaine almost sags with the relief of the admission.

"We're teenage boys," Blaine provides by way of excuse and they settle into silence as Kurt is horrified with himself and Blaine ponders how to proceed. He doesn't want to ruin this, doesn't want to gamble with it. "What do you think about?" he finally asks.

This time Kurt isn't clueless and knows exactly what Blaine is asking and doesn't know whether to be angry or disgusted or miserable. So he does what he should have done before they made it into the room and says, "Stop. I'm saying stop and you said you'd respect that. This is not romantic or appropriate and you are making me feel terrible. So, stop."

He stands to leave, eyes threatening tears as he wonders how irreparable the damage will be. Blaine sees it all and processes it all in a heartbeat and surrenders to fairness and honesty. He laughed at Kurt and made him feel like crap and he didn't mean it like that but that was besides the point and before and now he has pushed, not forced, but pushed and made Kurt uncomfortable and maybe ruined things. And perhaps he should have just settled for kisses and talking and living with that kind of intimacy until it drove him mad but he hasn't because he's a teenage boy and if there is any hope he has to take a risk. It always boils down to a risk.

He doesn't move to stop him, doesn't say no because he's promised he won't. What he does say is "When I touch myself I think of you," and then cringes for the backlash.

Kurt turns slowly back from the door, four feet between them but the air thick with mirrored mortification. "What?" Kurt hisses and Blaine thinks he's probably upset because he's probably disgusted and this is probably the most unromantic thing ever. Blaine did say he was bad at this.

"You heard me," anger for no good reason.

Kurt breaths harder, his hands placed lightly on his hips as he stares. "Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? Why do you think? All week I haven't been able to help myself and it didn't even cross my mind to try to think of something else because once I found you that was it. That night you called me after we lost the competition and we whispered about how good it felt to sing together I tried to memorize your voice forever. That scarf I said I liked and convinced you to give me? The one I haven't worn since? I took it so I could bury my face in it and smell you. Do you have any idea how good you smell? And, Oh! Oh! This Kurt will scandalize because if you are really so angelic that you don't think depraved things once in a blue moon you won't understand how close I came to excusing myself after dessert on Friday and touching myself in the bathroom." He growls as he sees the shock in Kurt's eyes and turns away, shocked himself at what he's said but by god it was a stupid question and this was a stupid plan.

"But why?" comes Kurt's repeated, stupid question.

He clenches his teeth and turns back, grasping at the idea that Kurt is still here, that there is still hope. "Because you turn me on." A glimmer of something in his eyes and Blaine thinks maybe he's right, maybe this isn't about Kurt being disgusted with sex or not knowing what it is but it's the fact that he's never allowed himself to hope for it in a look or a touch or, heaven forbid, a relationship. "So. Fucking. Much."

Kurt thinks that might be the first time he's heard Blaine swear. "Really?"

Blaine melts as the angles leave his body with Kurt stepping towards him, believing just a little. "Yes, and I want to show you." Fear, instant, flashing fear that dispels just as easily. "I'm not going to force anything. This isn't going to be about sex, this is going to be about sexy."

Kurt nods mutely and lets Blaine lead him back to the bed where he sits on the edge. He watches Blaine walk into the annex and quickly move the dozen products resting on the dresser to the ground. He picks up the piece of furniture, struggling with it but eventually places it in front of the bed, looking from Kurt to it and back to judge position.

Kurt is looking thoroughly unimpressed and voices his concern: "I hardly think this is the time for a self-esteem intervention. I don't want to sit here and look at myself."

"Good," comes the unexpected answer, back to it's cocky self. "Neither do I." Blaine leans onto the bed behind Kurt leaning close to see his line of sight to the mirror and the resulting reflection. Kurt takes the opportunity to breath him in, figuring he has permission since Blaine's now admitted to worse.

"I like how you smell, too," he breathes.

Blaine just smiles and forgets the mirror and the plan and runs the backs of his knuckles across a cheek and kisses him slowly but with depth, caressing over his tongue and lips and willing himself to let go in order to convince Kurt to do the same. The kiss lasts minutes, their positions on the bed allowing only a roving hand from each as the other holds tight and steadies and the anger of the argument fueling a kiss that feels like an apology and a promise. Blaine's fingers wrap around the exposed flesh of Kurt's neck, his thumb against his Adam's apple, feeling the movement as Kurt presses wet kiss after wet kiss to his mouth, Kurt groans and it isn't subdued at all and it's the most glorious sound Blaine has ever heard. He moves his fingers again, replicating the caress over the back of the boy's neck and is rewarded with another groan.

His eyes slide open and catch sight of them in the mirror, lips instantly curving up as he admires his own ingenious plan. The reflection of the pair of them is right there and if he thought the sound and the taste and the smell and the feel was amazing this is exactly what it is: just one more dimension. Kurt feels him smiling but doesn't catch on, only whimpers as Blaine pulls away and off the bed and Blaine throws him back an agonized look that makes Kurt smile before he realizes he's being flirtatious and sexy and this is wonderful.

Blaine adjusts the mirror and Kurt's still not sure what's going on but then he's being pulled up to stand and watching it play out in the mirror and watching Blaine move behind him and pull him back to sit between his legs. Their eyes lock in reflection and Kurt's questions are answered.

"I don't know if this is going to work," Blaine concedes, "but I want you to see what I see. I think it's kind of what you see in me but I want you to see it properly, in you." He shakes his head and Kurt's entranced by the softness of his hair and can only think about burying his fingers in it. "I'm not making any sense." Blaine misinterprets Kurt's distant look for confusion. "I just…this might get intense and you just stop me when it gets too much. But try to enjoy it?"

A short nod and Kurt convinces himself to lean back and give in because Blaine's touched on a few pressure points tonight but he hasn't been wrong and maybe Kurt's learnt something about himself. Maybe Kurt's learning now. He wriggles back, trying to get comfortable, and is astounded to hear Blaine suck in a breath, catches his eyes again in the mirror and leans back further, feeling the solid heat against his back. He bites his lip out of habit and sees Blaine's gaze drop to them. They're going to kiss but not at this angle so Kurt wriggles again until he's slumped and Blaine's hands can twist his body on an angle, both their heads now ninety degrees to the mirror and they're staring at each other.

Kurt wonders if this is going to get uncomfortable soon. He wonders whether anything can feel as good as this man pressed so close against him and knows that many things can and is so, so surprised to find himself admitting that because suddenly sex isn't depressing or scary and he feels just a little bit sexy and it makes him bold.

He doesn't know Blaine can't handle him bold. Doesn't know that when Blaine thinks of him at night it's usually thoughts of Kurt uttering things in his ear and raking nails across his skin and teasing and being outrageous. "I do think of you," Kurt says, kissing Blaine's lips, "When I'm…late at night."

Blaine's eyes open against the kiss and slide to the mirror because he's too dumbstruck to return the kiss and Kurt is sliding his mouth across his cheek for the first time. He chokes back a noise at the sight of this innocent, perfect boy pressed to him and kissing his neck with alternating kisses and licks and tame little bites. It's only slightly disconcerting when Kurt's eyes open and strain to catch the sight and watch for a moment, marveling at the change in skin color and the sheen of saliva where his mouth has been. Then their gazes connect and hold and Blaine's hands are moving up Kurt's sides, tracing the lines of him and across his chest, mapping, until one arm rests around his waist and one loops under his arm, fingers wrapping into his hair.

Kurt keeps kissing any inch of skin that presents itself, not even noticing when Blaine undoes the top button of his shirt and stretches the collar wide so Kurt's mouth can trace over a clavicle. If his boyfriend wasn't so flexible this would be cramping up his midsection but Kurt manages to make it look sexy and easy and his mouth is good at this, already leaning towards teeth over licks even though Blaine hadn't realized that about himself until just now.

Kurt moves back up, uncomfortable from twisting his body and trying to watch it all in the mirror. Blaine's holding him tight, a shake in his hands obvious and his breath heavy and fast: Kurt can feel it against his back and it thrills him. Sure, he's just as bad but he hadn't questioned his ability to be turned on. Blaine kisses him again, searing and needy and moaning into it something fierce. Kurt thinks he feels Blaine pressing his legs tighter but can't pay it much heed because he's remembered his hands and is watching at one buries itself in Blaine's insanely soft curls, thankfully gel-less tonight. The other, he slips up a thigh, bracing himself and pressing and this time he feels Blaine press against him and it's his turn to moan into his boyfriends mouth.

His lips slip again, mostly because he wants to taste again and he doesn't care if it's salty or laced with the acridity of alcohol, it tastes like Blaine and it is so sexy. His mouth is pressing openly to the base of Blaine's neck and he can feel the pulse there against his tongue and Blaine's lips somewhere against his ear and the utterly wrecked breathless begging plea of "suck".

He's not convinced this is the best idea but Blaine could ask him to fly and he'd give it a go so he presses his lips closer and sucks hard. He feels stupid for it and daren't try to see how stupid he looks but when Blaine grinds against him from behind he forgets all of that and moves his lips just a little lower and sucks again, harder.

"Oh, fuck, Kurt, please," and Blaine's hand has managed to get under the sweater and is holding tight across his abdomen and Kurt could care less if he's not all that comfortable with his belly and doesn't really love it on the best of days because Blaine Anderson is arching into him and making him feel ten different kinds of hot and bothered and turned on and he's just managed to pack an illiterate moan, an expletive, a plea and his name into a sentence that tastes like dark chocolate.

Kurt sucks harder and Blaine loses it, moaning in a way that might have been heard on the street and then shaking himself lose and falling back on the bed. Kurt just sits there, staring at himself in the mirror. Staring at the ball of sexual energy sitting there in front of him with a spare pair of legs hanging at his sides and his sweater pulled askew and his hair ridiculous and his face flushed and his lips wet and red and his eyes shining. He's still staring when Blaine appears peering over his shoulder looking equally disheveled but sporting a wide grin.

"Starting to believe me when I say you are one sexy man, Kurt?" he asks, breathless and playful.

Kurt nods without hesitance. "Why'd we stop?"

Blaine's smile turns rueful and if Kurt isn't mistaken he blushes beneath the flush. "You really turn me on, Kurt. Maybe it was silly to sit behind you like that but I could feel every inch of you though all those clothes and the muscle and skin and heat and I don't want to rush things."

"Oh," is all Kurt can manage, regarding the situation with bafflement much like he has all night. "You…"

Another laugh as Blaine scoots up the bed to lean back against the headboard and try to breath. "I don't really think there's a romantic way of saying what you do to me so maybe we just shouldn't discuss these things."

With a quick examination of events, Kurt realizes Blaine is trying to curb the learning curve. But not a single risk hasn't paid off and Kurt can make his own stomach dance is such a good way if he just remembers Blaine breathing an expletive into his ear and he isn't completely obtuse so maybe…

"I make you hard?' He's not pleased at the high-pitch it comes out at but Blaine's eyes go wide and his breath catches and he lunges at him, kissing him hard and a little bruising and Kurt loses his own breath at it. When he realizes what's happened, Blaine has moved back again and is watching him with what can only be described as hunger splashed across his face.

"You can't talk like that if you expect me to be a gentleman and romantic," Blaine jokes.

"Why?" Kurt asks not meaning to mirror his earlier stupid questions.

Blaine crawls closer on all fours until his face is inches from Kurt where he is sitting cross-legged. He meant it to be a warning but it only serves as an enticement. "Because you are sexy," he's adamant and Kurt believes him. "And we are teenage boys and I don't want to rush this and regret it."

Another epic, messy kiss that lasts until they're both light-headed and Kurt just thinks about how that would never make it into a movie and isn't that a shame?

When they pull away Kurt suddenly looks like an extremely guilty deer caught in headlights and Blaine worriedly asks what's wrong with a look.

"Um," Kurt struggles, "I think I might have…" His fingers stretch out to touch gingerly at Blaine's neck and Blaine flinches at the dull pain.

Quickly he's scrambling to the mirror again and angling his head. There are two very red, very obvious circular bruises on his neck from where he coerced Kurt into getting a bit carried away before and there's Kurt looking over his shoulder looking terrified is a rather sweet way. "Oh my god, I am so sorry," he whispers.

Blaine just smiles and then laughs, biting back any comment about Kurt being adorable because he'd really rather just kiss him. Again. And he does. When he pulls back he says, "I'll have to get you back for that."

"You made me," Kurt counters.

"Aha! So you're not sorry," Blaine demands.

Kurts face screws up as he admits it. "Fine, but you did ask and you weren't complaining at the time and –"

"And they look good and will remind me all week that you put them there and you can imagine how lovely that reminder will feel. Not to mention this means you have to give me another scarf."

Kurt nods solemnly at the sacrifice of another piece of clothing and Blaine laughs again and Kurt wonders how many times they've laughed and shouted and kissed tonight. It's this thought that makes him remember the time and when he looks at the clock he moves damn fast because it is getting late and goodness knows when Finn or his dad will be home and…"The kitchen," he says to Blaine.

Together they race down the stairs and survey they abandoned half-prepped meal. "We won't have time," Kurt says and starts putting everything back where it belongs, hiding the uncooked food in the trash and sneakily running wet water over a few bowls before leaving them upside down to dry. Blaine watches, still grinning until Kurt yelps something about the dresser and Blaine goes upstairs to put it back where it belongs.

That would have been fun to explain.

When he comes back downstairs he's got a scarf in hand, ready to be tied around his neck should he need a speedy cover and escape; he grabbed it from the back of Kurt's chair after he'd decided against daring to open the closet without supervision.

Kurt's sitting on the bench waiting and smiling and making excuses about being a bad date and them both going hungry. Blaine wants to shut him up with a kiss but with impressive timing the sound of a car and the moving shadows of headlights greets them and Kurt slips down. They do dare a kiss, chaste, really chaste now that they've tried proper not-chaste kisses. Kurt wraps the scarf around Blaine's neck and keeps his hands there a moment. "I'm sorry for being such a handful," is all he can think to say though Blaine's blatantly not too fussed and just shakes his head at the comment.

As voices – Carole's unusually loud – echo up the front path, Kurt takes a step back and asks, "Call me when you get home?"

"You don't think that's just asking for trouble? After the excessive night we've had I'm going home for some me time."

Kurt realizes exactly what is being said and feels the heat rise in his cheeks along with an image he hasn't been able to conjure well previously appearing in his mind: all expanses of skin and smiles and dark curly hair.

The key turns in the lock and he dares one last risk. "Yeah? And what exactly do you think I'll be doing then?"

Blaine stifles a giggle as Burt Hummel and his wife burst through the door and completely miss the expressive look that passes between the two boys. Burt seems just slightly put out by the complete innocence of the pair who, while apparently standing doing nothing in the kitchen, do not look any worse for wear.

"Hey boys, how was your night in?" Carole asks, shrugging off a jacket.

They synchronously and not at all suspiciously reply with a simple "Good," and then Blaine continues, saying he was just about to leave.

He's out the door before anyone can try to stop him and this time Burt doesn't miss the wistful look that crosses his sons face. Carole doesn't miss the small smile that crosses Burt's.

A few minutes later, after a fairly tame interrogation from his father, Kurt makes his excuses and climbs the stairs to his room feeling exhausted but happy. When he falls on the bed it's into the lingering smell of Blaine and he loves how here he can smell both of them and that's all except…

With another confused crease of his brows, Kurt sits up, not entirely understanding why his sheets doesn't just smell like him and his boyfriend until he sees it perched on his pillow. He has no idea how Blaine got it in or where he stashed it or how he didn't crush it but lying across his pillow is a single red rose and a folded piece of paper.

With fingers shaking purely from the outpouring of energy that he can't fit into his grin, Kurt picks up the paper and reads, a second later muffling his laughs in his mattress.

Dearest Kurt,

Thank you for an amazing night,

This rose is my gift to you because it's romantic and perfect and lovely.

Just like you.

My sexy, sexy studmuffin.

B.

P.S. Yes, I will now be calling you that at school.