The first thing they look up is ‘Top Ten Kinks’. Blaine’s sitting at the kitchen table, his laptop in front of him and Kurt’s leaning in close over his shoulder. It’s weird but both of them are holding their breath a little and through the haze of feeling something awkward and uncomfortable—something they haven’t felt for months—they’re both just a little bit turned on.

Sadly, all Google wants to give them is list after list of user and magazine recommended songs by ‘The Kinks’. So Kurt huffs and leans over and waves Blaine’s hand off the trackpad. He revises the search term to ‘Top Ten Sex Kinks’ but is only rewarded with some not-so-interesting celebrity gossip, something to do with science fiction and a page about ‘weird kinks’ which isn’t what they want at all.

They just want something to try. They’re at that stage; they decided not so many minutes ago over coffee. It’s a long weekend and New York is cooling down. The housemates are away. They’ve decided not to try to get back to Lima for the few days. And so it just kind of came up in conversation.


Ten minutes ago.

“Do you think our sex-life is boring?”

Blaine spares a moment to be offended and worried and then brushes that off to the side and responds with honesty. “No, not really. Why?” and then sips his coffee and glances back down at his course notes.

“Just something Neil said the other night to me. About how he could never be with anyone more than three months if the sex was vanilla.” Kurt sips his own coffee across the table but his eyes aren’t trained on his magazine, he is watching Blaine with sharp eyes.

“Our sex-life isn’t vanilla,” Blaine says, feeling indignant again.

Kurt just shrugs and offers nothing more for a few moments. Then, “Do you even think about trying something a bit kinky though? I mean, just to spice things up?”

Blaine’s eyes narrow and he closes the textbook on his hand-scrawled notes. “Do you think our sex-life is boring, Kurt?”

Kurt grins and it’s almost half-shy, his eyes dipping for a moment. “No, I’m very, very happy.” And, oh gosh darn, he is and Blaine knows that and it makes him grin back and his heart beat a little harder. No one thought they’d make it through Kurt’s senior year. No one thought they’d make it through Blaine’s. No one thought they’d make it through their first year in New York. At college and living with Blaine’s cousin because his dad had turned his nose up at living in student accommodation.

Okay, so actually lots of people did think they’d make it—Jeff and Rachel and Carole, Blaine’s Aunt Jen and maybe even Burt—but it was still nice to be doing it. And doing it well.

Kurt continues, “And you know I think we’re amazing in bed. I just wonder sometimes if we’re missing out?” He’s blushing, just a little, and squirming in his seat and Blaine kind of likes that look on him but hasn’t seen it in a while.

Carefully, because there’s a small chance this is Kurt asking for something crazy, Blaine asks, “What exactly did you have in mind?”

And Kurt shrugs. “I didn’t, I mean, I don’t want anything way out there, nothing…unusual. And nothing that makes you or me uncomfortable. Just something we haven’t tried, something not so…vanilla.”

“We are not vanilla.” Blaine tries to inject a manly growl into his voice but it comes out just the wrong side of whiny and Kurt laughs at him and waves him off and keeps drinking his coffee.


Now, Blaine flicks Kurt’s wrist and manages to get the trackpad back under his fingers.

“Common sex kinks.” He keys it in, hits enter and mumbles, “Now we’re getting somewhere,” when there’s a Wikipedia link second on the list and they’re wondering why they didn’t just start there. He clicks through to the Wikipedia page for ‘Kink(sexual)’ and they read in silence.

It’s getting more uncomfortable because Kurt wasn’t thinking things like ‘perversion’ and ‘objectifying’ and ‘paraphilia’—he’s not even sure what it means but it doesn’t sound good. Then he sees a beacon and leans forward and clicks through to the safest bet.

“Vanilla sex.”

Blaine huffs and then they both giggle a little at the drawing of the ‘missionary position’ presented to them. They feel young and silly again. It’s strange.

It takes Kurt a moment to skim through the paragraphs and then he barks out a laugh and turns to look at Blaine pointedly, waiting for him to catch up. When Blaine does, he huffs again and rolls his eyes and reads it out loud.

“’Sex that does not extend beyond affection, mutual masturbation, and oral and anal sex.’ Kurt, just because the internet says we are, that doesn’t make us vanilla—“

Kurt cuts him off, “British Medical Journal and it does Blaine, and I don’t mind, I just thought we could see if there was anything to try.”

Blaine softens. He’s not even sure why he’s letting himself get slightly worked up by this. Sex between them has been explosive and tender and perfect ever since they first fooled around during high school. Maybe this is just the next natural step. He clicks back and stares at the words on the screen.

Most of them scare him a little and with a jolt, he remembers they’ve both only just turned twenty and really, should they be getting in to this? He leans forward and rests his chin on his hand and breathes hard out his nose.

His eyes do seem to keep coming back to the same word, seem to be lingering. So he tenses, thinks Kurt probably felt it happen, and clicks through to the page for ‘Spanking’.

“Really?” Kurt breathes out and Blaine can’t tell if that was a good “really” or a bad “really” but isn’t about to look at him and find out. So he stares at the screen and starts skimming and scrolling and not being quite as uncomfortable as he was before.

He hums something undecided and they read in silence, Kurt leaning forward occasionally to move the page along or scroll back up.

Eventually, seemingly decided, Kurt stops leaning on Blaine’s shoulder and says, “You do like my ass.”

Blaine breathes out and turns in his chair to look at him and counter, “You like my ass.”

Kurt just grins because it’s all so true but it leaves the obvious question: “So who does the spanking?”

“We’re really going to do this?”

Kurt crosses his arms and juts out his chin. “Yes.”

Blaine grins back. “But not in a punishment kind of way, okay?” he asks trying to imagine how this would turn him on, trying on fantasies in his mind to see what fits. “Not really, not like a proper roleplay submitting thing, I don’t think… I mean, if that’s…” Oh he’s rambling. This is going to make him ramble so much. But at least Kurt’s leaning against the wall and looking mostly thoughtful and still smiling.

This might work.

“Do you think the point is for it to hurt?” Blaine asks.

Kurt’s grin turns just a little wolfish and Blaine feels it low in his stomach. “Pain can be good,” Kurt tells him.

Blaine just twists even further in his chair and raises an enquiring eyebrow. He thinks about getting up and moving closer.

Kurt laughs lightly and pushes off the wall, moves to lean his ass back against the table and stand close enough that his knees knock Blaine’s as he swings back around to face Kurt again. Kurt’s reaching out and touching, running his fingers along the line of Blaine’s jaw and down his neck and back as he says, “I just mean that pain isn’t always bad. I like, I mean, I really like the stretch of you inside me when we haven’t quite got enough time.”

Eyes go wide, Blaine’s grin spreads because he really likes hearing that said mid-morning over coffee while Kurt just eyes him appraisingly. He tilts his head just so and Kurt leans down to press his lips chastely against his.

“And biting,” Kurt says as he pulls back.

“And the times you left fingerprints on my hips?” Blaine mumbles as Kurt presses another kiss, slightly longer, slightly harder, still too chaste.

“You liked that?” Kurt asks back, because he’d only done it once, only done it by accident and seen Blaine’s wince the day after when he did up his belt. They were proper bruises and Kurt hadn’t done it again.

Blaine pulls back from a third kiss. “I think so. I liked it the next day.”

Kurt hums something undecided and leans back in for a proper kiss, finally, sliding his lips in a caress and then opening, licking into Blaine’s mouth for a few seconds’ languid pleasure before looping his arms around Blaine’s neck, burying his hands in his hair and sucking Blaine’s tongue into his mouth without warning.

Blaine can’t help but moan and let him, his hands rushing to splay over Kurt’s stomach, right there in the kitchen, and then dip his fingers behind the waistband of his cotton pyjama pants, pulling him off the table, a little bit closer, a little bit taller.

Kurt pulls back. “You’re a bit turned on now, aren’t you?” he laughs.

“You’re not?”

Kurt slides his hands from Blaine’s hair, running his palms around his neck as he draws back. “So, spanking?”

“Just… with a hand,” Blaine tells him, a little bit wary.

“I think so.” Kurt pauses, a tell-tale tilt of his head giving away how much thought he’s putting into this. “Maybe we just…try it.“

“Hmm.”

They go silent for a moment, but the question remains and Kurt voices it: “Still… who is getting spanked? “

“Do you want to?” Blaine asks.

“I have no idea. “

“Think about it. “

“What about you?”

Blaine glances at the ceiling and keeps trying on the fantasies in his head, letting them run rampant and letting the best ones curl hot in his stomach. Still: “I don’t know.“

“Maybe you can hit me—“ Kurt stutters to a stop with a lopsided smile and a small amount of shock in his eyes. “God that sounds so wrong…in a bad way.” Blaine raises an eyebrow at him. “And not in a good bad way like usual.” He takes a breath. “Maybe you can spank me for a while and we’ll see how it goes. And then I can spank you? If you want”

Blaine nods.

Kurt’s thinking again. “Do you think we need a safe word?”

Blaine huffs out a laugh and the awkwardness is palpable in it because both of them have heard their more risqu� friends talk about safe words and then laughed about how bizarre they are. “God, Kurt, I didn’t think we were playing those kinds of games.“

Kurt shrugs and tries not to blush. “Maybe. Just in case. I mean…Just in case.”

“Okay, any ideas?

All too quickly, Kurt’s saying, “Blazer,” and Blaine’s laughing at him as he blushes and punches him lightly in the shoulder. Then Blaine’s up and out of his seat and leaning into him, pressing him back against the table and kissing him.

“I’ve decided this is kind of cool,” he says when he pulls back.

“Yeah?” Kurt’s sliding his hands low and Blaine’s pleased they went back to bed in fresh pyjamas after their Saturday morning run and shower because Kurt can easily slide a hand around his half-hard cock and begin a slow stroke. Barely even enough to distract.

“It’s…weird and awkward and it might end badly.” He bucks into Kurt’s hand and leans in to press a kiss to the side of his neck and blush. Which feels so strange. “But it kind of feels like we’re teenagers again.”

Kurt laughs and squeezes tight for a second, drawing a moan. “Because that was so long ago?”

“You know what I mean. Fumbling and working things out.”

Kurt nods, stops stroking, pleased with how hard Blaine is getting, and starts walking him back, out of the kitchen, towards their bedroom. “Yeah. I kind of miss working things out with you. I think we should try new things. Just sometimes. Just in case we’re missing out.”

“And I agree with you. “

Blaine kisses him again with both hands covering a cheek, fingertips playing with his hairline.

Kurt’s manages to get them to their room, Blaine’s knees backed up against the bed and when Blaine reaches down and slips a hand under the waistband to curl his fingers around Kurt’s cock, he finds that they’re both really quite turned on at this point.

Kurt asks, “Do you just wanna…now?”

Blaine shrugs as Kurt drops his mouth to Blaine’s jaw and runs his teeth over the day-old stubble. “Did we have better plans for the morning?”

Kurt grins and manages to slide his teeth up and around an earlobe. “I suppose not. “ Then he pushes Blaine back to sit on the edge of the bed and moves to stand between his legs. “Just…don’t make this weird.“

Blaine chuckles low in this throat and shakes his head as he pulls his T-shirt off and throws it to the side and then reaches out to run his hands under Kurt’s, to splay and press and drag his shirt off too. Kurt leans into him, kissing him slow and dirty and pulling at the waistband of his pants. He tugs, teasing for a second and then yanks them down roughly, letting Blaine’s cock catch against the material and make him groan and screw his eyes shut when he lets the waistband rest back against his balls.

Kurt sinks to his knees in an instant and Blaine has just enough time to flop backwards on the bed, wind one hand into Kurt’s hair and the other into the sheets, before Kurt’s sinking his mouth down on him. Kurt takes most of him on the first go, hollowing his cheeks as he swallows and holds there and Blaine knows this is one of his newer tricks and teases him endless about how Kurt must have practiced on vegetables.

Except the teasing stops when Kurt practices in front of him. And Kurt just gives him a smug smile other times because he knows how good he’s getting at it and really doesn’t care how he learns.

Practicing on Blaine is fun too, but today isn’t the time and Blaine, actually, is really turned on because he’s rocking up as Kurt sucks back to the tip and breathes deep as he licks at the drop of precome before sliding his mouth back down. All but the last two inches, he thinks, and then Blaine bucks and it’s more like all but the last one inch and Kurt growls at him, pressing him down with a hand on his stomach.

The growl around his cock only makes Blaine more desperate and he can feel the tight heat twisting in him, begging to be allowed to wrap his fingers through Kurt’s hair properly and fuck his mouth. And Kurt would let him on a day where they didn’t have plans. So for now, Blaine just bows his back and tries to twist some of the tension out of his spine and guide with the hand in Kurt’s hair, tries to moan loud enough to make Kurt do more.

Not that Kurt’s not doing enough, taking Blaine deep in his mouth and licking up that one ridiculously sensitive vein and then pressing kisses, wet, open mouthed sucks, across the head. But—

Kurt lets his mouth pull away with a wet smack of his lips and yanks at Blaine’s pants until he takes the hint and lifts his ass so Kurt can slide them all the way off. Then Kurt’s hands are coaxing his legs up, tugging at knees, then ankles until Blaine’s feet are balanced on the edge of the bed, drawn up against him and giving Kurt the access he needs to suck hard at the underside of Blaine’s cock and then lick rough across his balls, nuzzling close enough to breath him in and then draw one of Blaine’s balls into his mouth, resting it on his tongue and moaning around it.

Blaine’s already too turned on, he knows that, thinks it consciously as Kurt’s nose catches and he lets his tongue flick back to Blaine’s perineum, little licks and then a pressed kiss and a suck and Blaine can’t take that at all. He twists away, back onto the bed and Kurt grins and rocks up on to his feet to stand there, at the end of the bed with his hands on his hips and Blaine splayed and breathing hard in front of him.

“Kurt,” Blaine whines out. “We’re meant to be doing other things.” Because if Kurt had kept going, another minute, maybe two, that would have been it.

“We are.” Kurt crawls up him to mouth at a nipple and make Blaine arch. He slides his own pants effortlessly off as he does it.

Blaine huffs when Kurt pulls back, naked and grinning at him. “You want me to go first?” He thinks Kurt’s put him so close to the edge so that he kind of has to. Kurt nods and grins harder, like he’s won something. Blaine, of course, knowing this was the plan, is at the point where Kurt’s hands on him at all will be entirely worth begging for so he just leans up and kisses messy and with his tongue sliding to lap across Kurt’s lips. “Where do you want me?”

Kurt smiles at him, rolls away, and brings him up to kneel in front of him, Kurt’s head tilted to the side, considering. “You know I love your ass,” he says, punctuating it with a really wicked, in-control-and-loving-it look. “And I do love having it under my hands and…touching. So maybe…” And then he sounds a little unsure again. Because the reality of it has kind of crashed back in.

“What?” Blaine asks with a grin that’s meant to reassure, “Just business as usual?”

Kurt rolls his eyes as Blaine turns his back and starts leaning forward, making Kurt stare—and oh yes, he loves that ass—Kurt gives it a quiet slap and then inwardly cringes because that do the sassy ass slap all the time. In the bedroom and out of it, in front of their friends. But they’re about to try something much, much more. “See, this is why people look at us and think ‘vanilla’.”

“Fine,” Blaine growls out. “Not business as usual.” He thinks. “Maybe…um. I can go over your lap?”

Kurt stares at him, blinks. “That…works for me.“

Then they just kind of stare, Blaine still half-turned away, still so, so naked and hard, until Kurt gets restless and turns him back with a touch to his hip so he can watch the bob of his cock between his thighs as Blaine moves. It’s still wet with evaporating saliva. Kurt breathes deep and Blaine does, too.

“Come here.” Kurt says, scooting back, his legs pale and strong and lean against the darks sheets of the bed as he settles with them stretched out in front of him, his back against the wooden headboard.

Awkward—oh god, is it meant to be this awkward?—Blaine crawls after him and raises on all fours, hands on one side of Kurt’s thighs, his knees, on the other.

Kurt mumbles, “Lie flat for me.”

And Blaine’s surprised by how quickly he does, letting his hands and knees stretch into the sheets until his cock’s pressed somewhere between Kurt’s thighs and he’s just lying there.

Actually, Kurt is enjoying this. As awkward as it could be, it’s a whole new angle, almost profile, almost birds-eye perspective, of Blaine’s ass. And it’s an amazing ass. More amazing than two years before when they started because now they run and are leaner and the muscles tighter and Blaine’s ass just perfectly round, and a little paler than the rest of him, and Kurt kind of mostly wants to lean forward and bite at the swell of flesh. But he doesn’t. He tears his eyes away and traces the curve of Blaine’s back, follows his gaze with his fingertips, walking them from ass to the small of Blaine’s back, over each vertebrae of his spine until he feels a shiver and then soothes back down. He wants to ask Blaine to spread his legs a little, aching to see him like that from this angle.

But instead he says, “Ready?”

“You’re just gonna…smack me?” Blaine mumbles from where he’s resting his chin against his arms folded in front of him.

“How do you want me to do it?” Kurt asks back.

Blaine shifts a bit, wriggles a little closer and the movement catches Kurt’s dick between his side and Kurt’s stomach and his own is caught somewhere against Kurt’s thighs. Both of them gasp and hold the friction there for a moment longer.

And then Kurt raises his hand, because that’s what he’s meant to do, right? And he hesitates, grits his teeth and then lets it fall, lets the power of the muscles in his arm go into it and stares at the curve of Blaine’s ass where it will surely land. And then he pulls out at the last moment and the hit is soft and half-hearted and entirely silly. And he cringes some more.

Blaine laughs, the sound loud and then muffled into his hand and then he cuts himself off altogether because he thinks Kurt just tensed and boy it just got more awkward. “Sorry, that was just more of a pat than a smack,” he admits.

Kurt nods to himself, hand still over Blaine’s ass, stroking and quite happy there and for a second he wishes they were just having sex but he led them here, there was a point, wasn’t there? He rakes his nails lightly down Blaine’s leg, lifts his hand, grits his teeth—and again the smack barely sounds in the air, barely feels more than a caress.

“This is weird,” Kurt says though he’s thinking, over and over: I can’t.

“It is,” Blaine replies and his dick is actually softening against Kurt’s thigh which is just not cool at all because every other time they’re desperate for each other. “Just, seriously, try to hit me properly?”

Kurt can’t. He just…he nudges Blaine in the side, one hand there, the other back across his ass and pushing him away and onto the side of the bed. Blaine just sits there on his knees, staring dumbly with a tinge of red across his cheeks to watch Kurt stroking his own cock and staring down at Blaine’s looking just a little bit forlorn about the state of things.

“I think…I think I could smack you while I fucked you?” Kurt eventually asks, though he doesn’t sound so sure.

Blaine doesn’t seem hugely taken by the idea either and it’s far too obvious on his face. “Yeah, you could.”

“Or maybe, at least, if you had your ass in the air,” Kurt tries again, and, there it is, that frisson of excitement racing up his spine. Except he thinks that’s mostly at the idea of Blaine’s ass in the air.

Blaine thinks a moment, with slowly blinking eyes, and then scrambles forward onto all fours and pushes his ass up for Kurt to stare at, he feels bold, if nothing else, because this couldn’t really be going any worse? Could it? And he saw flashes of heat in Kurt’s eyes a second ago and knows exactly why.

The sight is exactly perfect and Kurt wants nothing more than to press Blaine down at the shoulders, lose his arms out from under him and then spread him wide. And he swallows as that plan plays out in his mind because it’s too possessive and rough for them quite yet. One day soon, though. Moving up on his knees, Kurt strokes himself one last time and he’s properly hard again and shuffling, then leaning forward, to let his dick nudge across Blaine’s ass and make him shiver just a little and look back over his shoulder to where’s Kurt’s kneeling behind him.

Then Kurt lets his hands caress over Blaine’s ass and Blaine smiles at him one more time, because this is kind of good, and he turns back to stare at their open bedroom door.

“Okay?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah,” Blaine pauses and bites his lip. “But…make it hard.”

Shutting his mind off, not thinking through any of it at all, Kurt’s hand comes down. Hard, the sound of it cracking through the air as his eyes stay tightly screwed shut and Blaine has to bite his lip properly now because that fucking hurt and he can feel it reverberating through him, the force making his cock bounce where it hangs between his legs.

Kurt’s frozen up behind him. “Again?” he asks in a small voice.

“Okay.” The pain has ebbed out and is a barely-there dull throb, little electric tingles reminding Blaine it happened.

So Kurt does it again, just as hard, across the same spot and Blaine can’t bite down on his lip fast enough and lets out a groan.

“Is it okay?” Kurt wonders out loud, because he’s pretty sure that wasn’t a good groan.

Blaine grits his teeth and looks back to where Kurt’s staring at the splash of pink across his ass, and trailing his fingers over it. “It mostly just hurts.” Kurt stops and pulls his hand away, meeting Blaine’s eyes and Blaine has to point out, scrambling to not freak Kurt out. “Not in a bad way.”

Kurt sighs, “But not in a good way?”

“No,” he trails off. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be…” Kurt sounds embarrassed and dejected and fidgety, he sits back on his knees and Blaine feels another wave of awkwardness washing over him. “I’m not really…Shall we swap?”

But then, Blaine’s not entirely convinced he wants to smack Kurt’s ass because…he isn’t getting it. Kurt isn’t getting it either. This was the worst possible plan. Wikipedia, evidently, isn’t the place to discover how to have good kinky sex. Maybe they really are just vanilla. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? But turnabout is part of the deal so Blaine shifts to face Kurt and ponder.

“Same geometry?” Kurt asks.

And Blaine just kind of stares at him for a very long moment because that idea is making him hard again. Just that simple idea, a visual in his head, and maybe he’s been thinking, just lately, okay, just for a couple of years, that his lust for Kurt’s ass is borderline obsessive. Because Blaine really likes fucking Kurt and they don’t do it enough, as far as he’s concerned because he falls apart under Kurt’s mouth and hands too quickly and begs for release and Kurt loves that. And Kurt loves fucking him. And they both love the feel and the slide and the friction of that.

But fucking Kurt, it’s not about the mechanics or the physics, for Blaine and he knows that and thinks about it late at night. He just loves to look, to stare and touch, however he pleases and lay claim.

So maybe he hasn’t had even nearly enough vanilla sex yet. They’re so young and he still aches to just run his hands over his boyfriend, to get him on all fours and make him come with just fingers and words. Just because he himself can come hard and satisfyingly simply off that idea.

He wonders is that’s unusual and he wonders if Kurt’s not the same. Not about the ass thing, he knows no one can love a guy’s ass as much as he loves Kurt’s. But about the boring, repetitive sex thing. He mentally shakes himself to escape that thought and remembers Kurt saying that that wasn’t the case at all. They’re trying something new just in case it’s better.

Just in case.

So the geometry. He swallows. “Yeah, same,” he says, aiming for indecision but Kurt knows, Blaine thinks. Blaine licks his lips. “Maybe go down on your elbows if you like. I think it should be more comfortable.”

That’s not why at all.

Kurt gives him an arched eyebrow and a coy smile and yes, Kurt obviously has some idea of the subtext and Blaine has told him too many times how much he likes this, how deep his obsession runs. Because that’s something you tell your boyfriend, right? So Kurt knows and is crawling closer to the foot of the bed, all fours, giving Blaine a view. Then he’s dropping down to his elbows and arching his back, spreading his legs and his ass and pushing back to let Blaine stare.

Heat flares in Kurt’s cheeks at his own shamelessness, he’s still not used to this, still wonders exactly why Blaine gets so lust-ridden over him like this because he just feels naked and weird some of the time. But Blaine is staring and has a hand wrapped around his cock and Kurt can watch Blaine drinking him in with a steady gaze and it makes the weirdness dissolve a little.

Blaine shuffles forward, fingertips pressing from the small of Kurt’s back over the curve of his ass and down the backs of his thighs, to tickle behind his knees. Blaine does it again and something needy escapes his mouth, making Kurt’s stomach knot up and his body press back.

One more long, hot touch of Blaine’s hands melded to the skin of Kurt’s ankles, pressing up over calves and thighs and pulling him open just a little and staring and Kurt can hear Blaine’s breath a little harsh, a little fast and then caught somewhere in his throat.

“Right.” Blaine says, suddenly, hands leaving Kurt’s flesh reluctantly.

Kurt remembers what the point of this is and feels a pang of disappointment that Blaine isn’t just going to keep touching him. “Not too hard,” Kurt cautions.

Blaine rolls his eyes and wonders what’s too hard and what’s hilariously too soft. He soothes the skin of one cheek, raises his hand and smacks down. It makes the sharp cracking noise in the air he remembers from minutes ago and he wonders if that was too much; Kurt rocks a little forward but doesn’t laugh, doesn’t make a sound.

They wait, stuck in a strange stalemate, not touching, no eye contact and Blaine has to ask, “How was it?”

Kurt breathes out and Blaine realizes he was holding his breath. “Just…I mean, it felt like you hit my ass.”

“Yeah, that’s what I got,” Blaine agrees.

“Maybe harder?”

A deep breath and Blaine hits him. Harder. And he watches it happen, watches the skin under his palm shift and tense and then he feels it grow hot and he slides his hand across, just enough to let his fingers dip into the crack and pull and stare again.

Kurt huffs out beneath him and rocks back into the touch and Blaine would try to look at his face and gauge but he’s distracted by the pink stain appearing under his hand. But Kurt does—god help him—sound just a little turned on. “Harder than that. And maybe a few times in quick succession?”

“Really?”

There’s hesitation, but then, “Yeah.”

So Blaine grits his teeth and stares and fists his cock roughly.

Hard. And in a row.

A deep breath and Blaine slaps down, feels the sting of contact in his hand and knows that was harder. Hand back up, not so far, but down just as hard and, fuck, the skin beneath his palm is hot. Again. Then again. And he’s a little bit mortified but also a little bit turned on to see the red of his handprints across the pale flesh and entirely turned on by the pull of muscles and the tremble there.

And then Kurt’s wriggling away and Blaine’s hand comes down in a glancing blow that almost throws him off balance and Kurt’s turned, balanced on the end of the bed and collapsing precariously onto his side there. He’s staring at Blaine with wide eyes and teeth closed around his bottom lip and a hand curved back to cover his ass. The silence breaks when a moaning, breathless laugh escapes but it’s so not a good one and Blaine flushes red to think what just happened.

Shit.

But Kurt’s eyes soften and he mutters, “Sorry,” sounding sheepish. “But…ouch.”

“Shit,” Blaine just mumbles back, retreating to the head of the bed to pull the sheets across his lap and close his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he continues. “Fuck. We are doing this entirely wrong, aren’t we? We’re…missing the mark.” He opens his eyes and looks at Kurt who’s inched forward and shifted to sit cross-legged and is watching him with a smile about his lips and amused eyes.

This is stupidly awkward and not cool but Kurt’s still looking at him like that so Blaine has to point out, “I blame you for thinking this was a good idea. I mean, I get it, I get exactly why you wanted it.” Kurt arches an eyebrow and nods to make him continue. “It feels so weird, sometimes? Being twenty and so comfortable, right? I think about it sometimes.”

Kurt shrugs and grins harder because it is weird but it’s also amazing that they can even be sitting here after a misguided bad attempt at kinky sex and talking about it.

Blaine smiles back. “Everyone else is off fucking whomever they like and having one night stands and getting tied up and spanked and humiliated and god knows what else. And we just kind of love each other.”

And even though he’s grinning broadly and his ass is perfectly fine, just stinging a little now, Kurt arches his eyebrow again and makes Blaine scramble for words.

“Oh god, not that that’s bad. Not that I’m complaining.” Blaine knows he’s teasing, but still, it’s nice to say. “We could have the same boring vanilla sex forever and I wouldn’t be upset at all.”

“Neither would I,” Kurt interjects but Blaine keeps talking over him.

“But, it’s still weird. Everyone else is all crazy about sex like it’s this huge big life-defining deal and for me it isn’t, it’s just this awesome…thing…it’s normal.” Blaine’s pretty sure he’s being stupidly incoherent at this point and he’s not sure he has a point. “I’m not making any sense.” Kurt shakes his head a little. “Shit, come here,” he reaches for him and Kurt’s crawling up the bed in an instant to press a kiss to his mouth. “Just, can we forget it for tonight? We can come back to it. Try it again or something else. At least talk about it. But tonight, can we just have the awesome, hot, amazing—“ Kurt kisses him again, licking for a second at his bottom lip. “—god, you’re amazing,” Blaine grins. “Just the sex we usually have?”

Kurt grins again and presses a third kiss, lingering and enjoying. Blaine so rarely gets this flustered, this inarticulate and it’s cute and reminds Kurt of when they first started dating. He’s having flashbacks to the first time Blaine asked if he was allowed to give Kurt a blowjob.

Blaine kisses him back, slides his tongue in his mouth and kisses him hard and Kurt knows this is him apologising and rolls his eyes automatically, then he’s pulling back, wondering what kind of boring vanilla sex they should have now and smirking about it.

“Give me a look,” Blaine says, pushing him back a little.

Kurt laughs and has to say it. “You just want to look at my ass!”

Blaine blushes and shakes his head. “No! Well, yeah, a bit, but…you are such a dick. Give me a look.”

Kurt wriggles further back on the bed, holding Blaine’s gaze, trying to amp the heat back up because he’s turned on again and wanting despite the missteps of the night. Deftly, oozing confidence, he flips his hips and raises himself up on all fours, craning his neck to look back at Blaine and watch the mortification as it washes over his face.

“Shit, I knew that had to be hurting! Come here.”

And Blaine shuffles forward on his knees and pulls Kurt back with his hands on his hips, ignores his laughter and leans in to plant a kiss on the reddest mark on Kurt’s ass. Kurt’s instantly rocketing up, not pulling away, but straightening his back to kneel there, upright and stretched towards the ceiling with Blaine’s hands on his hips, mouth bent close, and Kurt’s twisting around to look down at him.

Blaine looks up, eyes dark, cheeks flushed and that worried little crease between his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mutters and Kurt’s about to tell him to shut up and stop being an idiot when Blaine leans close and kisses across his skin again. Lips so gentle with the heat and the ache there that Kurt decides not to say anything, just bite his lip and let a hand drop to his cock to start a slow stroke.

“So sorry,” Blaine mumbles, nuzzling at the already fading handprints, and then he licks a line across one cheek that makes Kurt gasp. Licks back and then blows breath across the line of saliva and then does it again. He kisses chaste little presses up to the small of Kurt’s back, licking into the dimples at either side and flicks his eyes up, an awkward angle but making eye contact and meeting Kurt’s stare and feeling the heat and this is going to lead to good, vanilla sex, he thinks. But just a few more minutes of this first. He kisses down to the other side, no red handprint, he never got to try using his left hand or bringing down the back of his right. Pale skin over a tight muscle that flexes when he presses his mouth open there, licks with his tongue and then nuzzles and lets his teeth just tease at the flesh.

They’ve never done this, it’s barely occurred to him; there are so many other places to put his mouth and this is where he’s always liked his hands and then, later on, his cock. But he’s here now and he’s getting harder and Kurt’s not protesting. When he looks up again, Kurt’s eyes are hooded and a darker blue and staring back. He’s stroking his cock as well, hips just starting to shift into his own touch.

Something inside him uncoils and Blaine wants more, he wants to lick a line along the crease where thigh turns into ass and he has before, blowjobs where he got distracted and kissed at a thigh and then there. Reaching up, hands on Kurt’s back he pushes him forward until he falls, catching himself on his elbows and resting there and Blaine has to swallow hard at the way his mouth is watering now. Kurt like this, ass in the air, legs spreading, just a little, this is how Blaine loves to fuck him most.

“Such a perfect ass,” Blaine tells him and Kurt snorts but doesn’t comment, just snakes a hand back beneath himself to keep stroking at his cock.

And Blaine falls back into him, tongue licking that crease of his thigh on one side and then the other, tasting Kurt stronger, the sweat more concentrated. Back to the red of the handprints, just keeps kissing and licking and then he’s running his teeth there and his breath feels short and then hitching when Kurt can’t help but gasp. And then Kurt sneaks a look back from where his head’s pressed to the mattress and Blaine’s stroking his cock lazily, and looks hard and turned on and Kurt kind of wishes he could see his face but can’t so buries his head back in the sheets and tries to breathe.

Then Blaine’s hand, the one not stroking, comes up, fingers digging into the muscle of Kurt’s ass and spreading, his other hand, evidently forgetting about his cock, sliding around a thigh and coaxing Kurt’s legs wider, then wider still, fingers sliding up and Blaine runs a thumb over Kurt’s perineum, pressing there and making Kurt whine just a little because that all feels amazing but he can’t say it. Blaine’s tongue lapping at the top of Kurt’s crack and Kurt feels him shudder and bite down, teeth digging at sensitive skin and then Blaine pauses, hesitates because this is a bit weird; it’s new and strange and he’s never really wanted...

He reaches between then, fingers tangling with Kurt’s for a moment before Kurt lets go and Blaine’s hand wraps firmly around his cock, his other hand still holding his ass open as his mouth rests dormant against his tailbone. Blaine strokes hard and licks at the same time and Kurt can’t stop the desperate, needy noise that slides out of his throat, that makes him press his chest down into the mattress and arch his back hard and shove his ass as high and as obvious as he can, all without thinking, without meaning to, but blatantly presenting himself for the taking.

And Blaine’s mouth drops, breathes harsh and Kurt’s breath catches and freezes hot in his throat and then Blaine’s mouth is between his legs, against his balls, sucking one between his lips and rolling it against his tongue and the top of his mouth. Does the same for the other and Kurt keeps pressing back and making a desperate little noise over and over again, the one that eggs Blaine on. That always makes Blaine more desperate, makes him work harder for it. Blaine loves that noise. He pulls away and Kurt begs with his body, shoving back, arching, whimpering, and the muscle under Blaine’s hand tensing, wanting, begging, and Blaine licks harsh with the flat of his tongue over Kurt’s perineum. Twice and then down to his balls, tonguing them perfectly, all hot wet pressure. Keeps doing it, back and forth until Kurt’s biting back too-loud whines. And then he’s not, he keens and Blaine’s hand around his cock tightens, strokes harder and Kurt knows Blaine plans to get him off like this. And by god, he sure as hell can if he keeps going. But he just fucking keeps jumping from perineum to balls to the small of his back, maybe a little lower. His thumb still spreading his ass, only fleetingly close to where Kurt wants it. Just this teasing, frustrating…not giving him even nearly what he wants, not at all.

And Kurt keens a little higher and tries to arch further into the bed, ass higher, spread wider and, “For fuck’s sakes Blaine, just lick it.” The words spill from his mouth into the sheets but loud, demanding and desperate, before he can stop himself. “Just…fuck…you tongue, my ass, just fucking…” Kurt bites down hard, catching a lip, almost splitting it open, startled and shocked by his own words. Terrified, because that’s asking an awful lot, demanding actually, and Blaine’s frozen behind him. They don’t do that.

Kurt takes a deep breath through his nose and suddenly feels very, very stupid spread like this in their bed, ass in the air and being a total dick.

“Shit…sorry,” he tries, voice rasping; in spite of his intentions, he’s still so turned on. “I know you just want normal sex,” he winces, it’s not meant to be accusing, it just all felt so close, such a tease even though it wasn’t. “And that’s…shit, I got caught up and I wasn’t really…I would never expect…Only if you wanted to, and we’d talk about it, obviously.” Another deep breath and he can’t bring himself to twist his back out of the stupid arch it’s in and look at Blaine. “It was…Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

His words die in his throat because suddenly Blaine’s just fallen into him. Hand off his cock, sliding back to mirror the one already covering his ass and spreading him as wide as he can be spread, holding his ass apart so Blaine can lean close, so fucking close and lick. He licks right over Kurt’s hole and it’s wet heat and pressure and both Blaine’s hands over his ass, one side still a little hot from the misguided spanking and Blaine’s thumbs down near his mouth, drawing him apart and granting him access and licking, kissing, sliding his tongue mercilessly around and not quite tongue fucking him but so obviously thinking about trying it.

And Kurt can’t not keen high and noisy and embarrassingly broken because this is new. And maybe it’s that novelty, he thinks. But, fuck, maybe it’s not. This feels more intimate than what they’ve done. Blaine’s tongue. And it’s hot and wet and moving. Moving how he wants it to and because he wants it to and he’s humming or groaning against Kurt, so fucking close. He’s sliding it over and over and fuck, he didn’t know Blaine’s mouth was that wet because he can feel it dripping, can feel it coating Blaine’s face, making the press of chin and cheeks to sensitive skin slippery and remarkable.

God, he’s pretty fucking sure he can feel Blaine pooling saliva on his tongue and then pushing it against him and he’s not even sliding his tongue inside him, just content to lick and lap and taste.

And then Blaine has to stop because his cock is achingly hard and he’s not sure why but Kurt’s ass has never been so insanely sexy to him as it is now. But this is way, way more than anything he ever imagined. This is something he sees in pornos and it’s hot but not something they do, not something he ever imagined them doing and now he hates himself for denying that fantasy. And he never thought he’d get off on it this badly. But he is and he’s stupidly turned on. And he pulls back and just nuzzles, lets go with one hand and Kurt’s keening drops an octave as Blaine slides a finger close to play, to swirl, to tease and then start to dip in, rougher than usual—no lube, but so wet—while he watches it and then leans to lick at where Kurt’s skin meets his own.

“Blaine?” Kurt sounds wrecked and desperate, voice rasping and breaking in that single word.

“Hmm?” Blaine asks, pulling back to stare at Kurt’s ass, ignoring his still-aching cock, and starting to feel smug and elated and in awe.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine says too quickly, because he hasn’t thought about this. But then he does think and says it again, “Yeah.”

“Have you ever—“ Kurt’s question cuts off as he moans hard into the pillow, this time biting down to try to curb the sound as Blaine’s finger slides out and his tongue presses close to replace it, painting a spiral and then dipping inside, pressed hard and curling and making Kurt squeeze his eyes shut and fight against writhing hard into the mattress, falling apart. Blaine relents and a finger replaces his tongue, starting to fuck him slowly on it. Kurt tries again: “Have you ever thought about doing this?” and angles his head back, not at all able to see Blaine’s face but wanting to, sounding breathless and hopeful and mildly confused.

“No…” he kisses and then bites at the left curve of Kurt’s ass. Watching his finger moving in and out. So tight and hot and still so wet with his own spit. “Not until now,” he clarifies, just a little worried that Kurt won’t get how much he’s enjoying it.

But Kurt shudders, angles back and Blaine knows that cue already, drags his finger out, both hands back, spreading Kurt’s ass so he can lean in and lick and then dip as deep as he can get inside and draw a broken moan and then, “Oh god, Blaine.” A hand reaching back, searching for contact and Blaine thinks to slow this but it only serves to press Kurt’s shoulders harder into the bed, his ass angled higher. His other hand gives up trying to balance him, winding back to grab at his cock and start a rough stroke while Blaine keeps licking into him.

“Please, let me, fuck, Blaine, you don’t get it. Let me do you first…” God, Kurt needs Blaine to understand. He needs Blaine to get it. But his words sound begging and garbled and out of control even to his own ears and he knows that if Blaine was to turn around and let him tongue his ass right this second, Kurt would be coming before he even managed to make any proper sort of contact.

And Blaine just wants to make him come. He drags his tongue back into his mouth through pursed lips, leaving them wet and dripping but the taste—oh fuck, the taste—still there, in his mouth, making his cock ache and he does imagine, for a fleeting second, Kurt’s mouth on him. Almost comes, can’t fucking believe that he can lose control at a thought, just like his virginal fifteen year old self would have, but it pulses through him and he has to bite on his tongue not to.

He re-centres himself, mentally realigning while his fingers dance in rough pulls of muscle over Kurt’s back and ass and Kurt whimpers below him, held taut, too obviously so. Blaine draws his face back away from Kurt’s ass and stares at the picture his mouth and fingers have painted. Spread and tight and shades of red to pink to porcelain white. And shining wet. God he’s made a mess.

His hands loosen and he gives Kurt a chance to take some control but Kurt doesn’t flip and grab at him, he just whines low in his throat. His hands tightening, one on his dick, stroking even rougher, one splaying wider across his ass, pulling it open with grabbing fingers. He fucking wants this. And Blaine feels a desperate need to lean back in, spread him wide and tongue at him until they both collapse.

“I want more,” Blaine mutters, feeling like it’s a dark admission; it’s one thing to realise, out of the blue, that you like a tongue in your ass but it feels like something altogether darker to realize you like doing it to someone else. But it’s Kurt. “I want to keep doing it, I don’t even care if you don’t do it back to me.”

Kurt swallows and strokes himself a little harder.

“Please…” Blaine whimpers out—he’s desperate—and licks once, harsh up Kurt’s ass. He rests his teeth around one of Kurt’s splayed fingers, both Blaine’s hands and one of Kurt’s, pulling his ass open. Blaine’s hot breath harsh as he tries to get his eyes to focus on the bedroom door. “I wanna make you come like this.” Kurt arches back, angling, and oh he so wants it, too. “Yeah?” Blaine breathes, siting up on his knees straighter, but his mouth still resting against Kurt’s fingers. “You’ll let me, won’t you?”

There’s motion in Kurt’s neck that reverberates down his spine as he nods into the bed and whines high in his throat as one of Blaine’s fingers slips down and inside him again. Blaine watches sweat bead and run up Kurt’s back to his shoulders, his neck, his hair, he feels Kurt squirm and knows the hand on his cock has tightened. Another deep breath and then he closes his eyes and slides his mouth back across, stomach twisting deliciously at the smell of sex and sweat and Kurt so close and then he licks harsh around his finger, slides it out, presses his tongue in and feels Kurt buck as his tongue sets up a pace of short, rough thrusts.

Face back away from him again and he can imagine the look Kurt wants to be giving him but he just slides one hand down, grabbing at Kurt’s wrist, pulls it away from his cock, and warns, “No touching. Just me.”

Kurt growls something incoherent and presses his ass back again, earning another too-fast swipe, back and forth and then slowing and painting patterns and kissing, lips pressed close and tongue sweeping out and kissing in this open-mouthed, messy desperation to his hole. Blaine’s mumbling against him, “I can feel how much you like it.” And he means with his tongue. Another lick. “I can taste it.”

Kurt’s teeth around his bottom lip, biting down to stop a whimper and to stop from rocking his hips too recklessly. Another harsh lick, Blaine’s tongue wet, then wetter—he’s going for it now—more saliva as he nuzzles deep and close and Kurt does rock back, grinding down, his ass pressed hard against Blaine’s face, Blaine’s face buried, Blaine’s tongue licking long lines then circles at him.

And this is going to take seconds now because Kurt can’t stop thinking about him there, feeling amazing and doing these things to him. This is one of those deep dark, coiled fantasies that Kurt’s been harboring without really thinking about it and now it’s happening. Kurt’s hips jump and Blaine’s mouth drops a few inches, hand coming up and drawing Kurt’s balls into his mouth, sucking down hard and Kurt fists one hand in the sheets, winds the other back to try to make contact but can’t. His cock bounces, neglected and if Blaine would just…

Blaine’s tongue back, fucking into him properly, the same rhythm as Blaine uses when it’s his cock or fingers but this way he can lick inside him.

Fuck.

Blaine’s fist, a tight stroke of Kurt’s cock and then both hands splayed, Blaine’s fingers kneading at his ass, tight and bruising and then Blaine groans again, so turned on and reckless against him because he is fucking getting off on this and Kurt’s muscles tighten, he wills himself to come, just like this. Tongue in his ass, feeling deep inside him but can’t be, pressing, moving, writhing, fucking into him, and Kurt rocks one more time, feels himself slipping, pleads with his voice, “Blaine,” and Blaine just licks harder, growls and mutters something filthy.

And Kurt keens, his whole body going taut as he feels himself shattering, heat racing through him; then more, higher, cock throbbing as he comes so hard that he has to scrunch his eyes shut. And Blaine’s hand around his cock, fast and tight and relentless, wringing his orgasm from him as Kurt’s spine twists, his hips stuttering back and riding Blaine’s mouth in short rolling thrusts and his come lands in streaks on the sheets beneath him. Another spurt caught wet and sliding under Blaine’s hand, lessening the friction and the ache of perhaps too much and he’s still rocking into Blaine’s mouth, Blaine’s tongue still there, licking into his ass, stretched and wet and Kurt shudders from head to toe, vibrating as Blaine’s hand tightens around the head of his cock, thumb spreading the last dribble of come in a circle that makes Kurt bite down hard on the sheets that at some point got caught in his mouth.

But Blaine’s tongue in a circle then a swipe then little chaste—oh god, how can he consider them chaste—kisses to the flesh around his hole and Kurt shudders again, wanting to keep going but everything aches with over-worked muscles, stretched tight skin and too much sensation; the last frissons of electricity chasing each other up his spine and then Blaine’s tongue teasing at him, surely knowing it’s too much, but licking little licks back inside him and making his head spin.

Kurt pulls forward and away with a grunt, clawing up the bed half a foot and Blaine stares after him, at his ass still arched in the air and spread, worked open and shining wet, skin painted in shades of pale, sweat-slicked white to pink to spit-slicked red and shadows of brown and purple bruises to come. He’d be mortified to have marked him like that, so much more damage that the handprints that faded minutes ago, but Kurt’s still wracked with little tremors, his breath still harsh and that all felt far too good to regret for a second.

Kurt tilts precariously and then slides flat, collapsing, face down onto the bed with another groan and spread limbs. And he still looks delicious and so insanely, filthily debauched.

“Holy shit, Blaine,” is what he says a second later, partially muffled but happy, surprised. With a grunt of exertion, he pushes a hand into the bed and flips himself onto his back.

Blaine’s kneeling up in front of him, immediately inching forward between his legs and watching Kurt as he strokes his cock as slowly as he can.

“Shit,” Kurt just breathes out again, letting his eyes trace up from cock to the pink flush of his chest and the sweat-matted hair there. And then his mouth. Bright red swollen lips, parted as Blaine breathes hard, swallows, and the shine across his chin and cheeks; messy, should-be-gross, spit-slick skin and Kurt can’t believe he hasn’t felt it there and rubbed it away with the back of his hand. But Blaine’s eyes are dark and there’s a crease between them of concentration and Kurt’s staring, has stared too long because Blaine’s stunning.

“I’m gonna…” Blaine swallows again and feels just a little twinge of embarrassment to admit it, it’s so obvious to both of them why, and he hopes Kurt won’t think he’s weird or…”I’m gonna come,” he says.

Kurt’s eyes go wide for a second and there’s a minute shake of his head and then his legs are crossing behind Blaine’s ass and his hands are reaching up and pulling him down, on top of him and Blaine’s hand has to leave his cock to catch himself, on hands and knees, inches above Kurt.

And they stare at each other and it feels so new and strange and adventurous that they end up grinning and then Kurt’s leaning up and kissing Blaine hard, lips across his and tongue lapping and when Blaine’s mouth opens on a moan, Kurt swallows it down and licks into his mouth, matching it with a groan of his own.

Instantly rutting against Kurt’s stomach, rolling his hips and getting off like that as his hands slide behind to grip at Kurt’s shoulders and Kurt’s hands slide into his hair, holding him still so he can press his tongue, demanding and fast and hot, into his mouth. Over and over and tasting and mapping him out. Reveling in it and the sounds Blaine’s making and the desperate press of him against his belly. Kisses at the corner of his mouth, licks, laps and makes the skin wetter than it already was but feels, tastes, the evidence of what just happened.

Holy fuck: What just happened!

Lapping at the mess there and feeling Blaine buck harder because Blaine gets it, too. Across a cheek with messy, wanton kisses and down his jaw and back to his mouth, licking into it and then up to the tip of his nose before Blaine whines and bucks again and Kurt slides his tongue back between his lips and kisses him again.

Another rock of Blaine’s hips down and Kurt’s mouth matches the press, kisses one last time, deep and dirty but so much better that they’ve ever kissed before. Then Kurt lets him go, pushes him down at the shoulders, mouth torn away as Blaine slides with a yelp and Kurt’s legs come up, crossing again, now at the small of Blaine’s back, Blaine’s hands automatically flying to Kurt’s knees and holding him there so he can curve his spine and kiss him again and this time when Blaine’s hips buck forward there’s barely any friction but it’s a slide right across Kurt’s hole, wet and catching and open and Kurt groans and reaches, contorts himself to get a hand down between them and press the length of Blaine’s cock between the cheeks of his ass, into the heat and the wetness there that Blaine knows is his.

Another buck and Blaine’s eyes snap closed as he moans around Kurt’s tongue. Another perfect slide of his cock against Kurt’s ass and he realizes in a split second of clarity that if—when—he comes like this it’s going to be messy and against Kurt’s ass, against the tongue-stretched skin and the wetness that was his mouth and Kurt’s fingers holding him there and—Fuck.

He whines, keening high as he shudders into his release and Kurt refuses to set him free, to lessen any of it, holding Blaine’s mouth close to his and fucking into it with his tongue, Kurt’s other hand holding Blaine’s cock tighter and closer to his ass as he ruts there and breaks apart, keening high enough that Kurt will say he screamed as his balls tighten and coil and then flash in hot perfect heat and spill. He spurts once, head of his cock pressed so tight to flesh that his come just smears up the crease of Kurt’s ass. Another spurt and it’s spilt across Kurt’s hole, the slide hot and obvious and unbelievable when his cock slides against it and pulses again. Streak after streak straight into flesh and smearing, dripping there, around Kurt’s fingers and his cock and dripping down Kurt’s ass to the bed. And Blaine rides it out, whining into Kurt’s mouth until he’s whimpering and spent and shuddering with it.

With a deep heavy breath he goes to collapse but Kurt’s laughing at him and pulling his hand free and up from where it’s been caught near painfully tight between them and pushing Blaine back and off him to the side, onto his back and away from his mouth where they were still kissing, incoherent and messy.

It’s just heavy breath, the rustle of sheets, the click of a joint back into place for minutes as they come down and stretch and stare at the white of the ceiling, splayed on their backs, barely touching but for grasped hands between them.

When did that even happen?

Blaine breathes out once more, hard and then can’t stifle a yawn as he rolls his shoulders and almost, almost drifts into sleep. He feels his eyelids flutter and forces them back open. Turning his head to the side he casts his eyes over the contours of his boyfriend, still on his back beside him, still flushed pink and sweaty but the most debauched of him not showing. Blaine feels something twist in him at simply the thought and fights back a groan. God he really kind of wants to sleep.

Except Kurt’s cock is standing out from his body, angled up toward his stomach and hard and there. Again. Oh god that was good.

“Well,” Blaine tries, knowing, smirking, feeling like he can’t be beaten at this point, as though Kurt could say anything and that’s fine because Kurt came recklessly across the sheets with Blaine’s tongue in his ass and now he’s hard again.

“Yeah…Well,” Kurt replies, amused and sated but wanting more.

There’s another pause that lasts for a long minute and without really meaning to Kurt’s thumb sets up a stroke over the back of Blaine’s hand.

Then Blaine turns on his side, raises up on an elbow and says, “Kinky enough for you?” barely managing to curl his grinning mouth around the words.

Kurt laughs, snorting that way that Blaine’s never ever seen him do in front of anyone else and then blushing like he always does. He hums his agreement, turning onto his hip to face him with that crease between his eyes again and a question about his lips.

But Blaine beats him to speaking, mumbling out, too fast, “I could go again,” and leaving it hanging, a dopey grin in place as his unoccupied hand slides down and wraps around his cock. He winces, just a little because it’s kind of too soon but he thinks…

“You want to do it to me?” Blaine asks.

Kurt hums again, almost a groan, low in his throat, but wriggling closer to press a kiss to Blaine’s mouth and mumble his agreement. “I really do.” Then tongue in Blaine’s mouth, kissing him for all he’s worth, deep and demanding and waking him back up from exhausted and sated and blissful. Back to wanting. Always, always back to wanting.

Blain pulls away, grin still in place. “Kinky,” he whispers over Kurt’s mouth, supressing a laugh. He goes in to kiss him again but Kurt draws back, his hands on Blaine’s chest, caressing down, one finding his cock and stroking gentle and slow, drawing him back in.

“I think, technically, still vanilla.”

Blaine huffs a breath across Kurt’s lips, arching into the stroke of his hand and staring with a raised eyebrow. But Kurt just shrugs apologetically.

A growl and a grin, wicked and dark and knowing and hoping Kurt gets off on this as much as he does. But he already knows or at least suspects. “Fuck vanilla,” Blaine murmurs out and then he’s crowding in and wrapping his arms around Kurt, pulling him close and under him, spreading and splaying and letting Kurt’s breath catch for just a second. Simply at the thought of what’s to come.