Kurt couldn’t be blamed, not really. Blaine had begged, “please, Kurt. My back is killing me from dancing on stage all day” and Blaine begging just did things to Kurt. So Kurt had huffed out a “yes” and Blaine was tugging off his shirt so quickly it got stuck on one of his ears.


“You’re the best,” Blaine says as he flings himself onto Kurt’s bed, landing face down in one of the many pillows.

“I know,” Kurt replies. Blaine wiggles down into the mattress, making himself comfortable. He’s got a thin layer of sweat sticking to his skin, left over from the sun beating down on him all day on the Six Flags stage, and Kurt licks his lips.

Kurt moves over to the bed and climbs on, straddling his legs over the back of Blaine’s upper thighs. He starts off with soft pressure at first, just his finger tips digging into the skin on Blaine’s back and shoulders.

“Mmm, Kurt. Feels good,” Blaine mumbles, his voice filled with bliss. Kurt can see him melt into the bed, tension leaving his body with each pass of Kurt’s hands.

“You can go a little harder,” Blaine tells him. Kurt grins and rolls the heels of his hands into Blaine’s lower back, digs in until Blaine’s letting out sounds that Kurt can’t decipher as pain or pleasure. He keeps going though, pressing and molding the muscles of Blaine’s back with his fingers.

And then he sees it. He’s not sure how he’s missed it before this. A mark on Blaine’s back, a birth mark, slightly darker than the rest of his skin and placed just slightly off onto his right shoulder blade. It’s oddly shaped, not a prefect circle, and Kurt reaches his hand up
and lightly runs his finger over it, traces the edges while Blaine moans beneath him.

“Oh my god. Kurt,” Blaine groans. It’s slightly muffled, his face still pushed into the pillow from the massage. Kurt doesn’t respond, just circles his tongue around the birth mark, tasting Blaine’s skin that’s still slightly salty from sweat.

Kurt moves down, tongue counting the dips in Blaine’s spine. He keeps going, tongue collecting Blaine’s sweat the whole way, until he bumps into Blaine’s tan work pants.

“Hips up,” Kurt tells him, and Blaine doesn’t hesitate to shove himself to his knees. Kurt grabs the pants at the waist, making sure that he has a hold on Blaine’s boxer briefs too, and pulls them down. It’s a bit of a struggle with Blaine on his stomach, but Kurt just yanks until Blaine’s pants and underwear are down passed his knees, ankles, and off his feet. Kurt flings them, not caring where they land, and just looks at Blaine.

There’s tan skin everywhere. Blaine’s panting and Kurt can see the flush building on his cheeks. His hips are squirming into the mattress, small little twitches here and there. Kurt runs his hands all over Blaine, up his back and over his shoulders, skims over his sides before landing on his ass and parting his cheeks.

“Yes. Yes please, Kurt,” Blaine begs and Kurt can’t say no, it’s how this whole thing got started. He spreads Blaine a little wider and bends down until he’s licking at Blaine, tongue making little circle around Blaine’s hole. Blaine keeps his face buried in the pillow, a few of the louder sobs making their way to Kurt’s ears.

He’s done teasing, though, wants to really taste Blaine. He pushes his tongue inside, past that first ring of muscle, and Blaine is positively shaking underneath him.


Kurt goes a little faster, tongue moving in and out and around, trying to mimic the rhythm he knows Blaine likes when Kurt fucks him with his dick instead of his tongue.

Blaine’s begging again, this time for Kurt to, “stop, stop, you have to stop. It feels too good.” Kurt doesn’t stop though, just grabs on to Blaine’s hips and pulls his ass closer to Kurt’s face. Kurt knows how Blaine gets when he thinks it’s too much, when whatever Kurt’s doing to him feels too good. They power through it, Kurt’s tongue fucking Blaine and his thumb running lightly over Blaine’s balls.

“Kurtkurtkurt. I’m gonna—Kurt,” Blaine mumbles, not capable of stringing a complete sentence together. He quickly pushes himself up to his knees, his ass pushing further back onto Kurt’s tongue, and shoves a hand on to his dick. He tries to hold himself up with one hand, but fumbles, losing his balance, and falling into his shoulder. His hand never stops, though, working his dick quick and rough, and when Kurt slips a finger inside of him, Blaine comes so hard his vision blurs and his breathing stops.

He collapses face first onto the bed, trying to remember how to breathe, when Kurt curls up next to him and whispers in his ear, “you know, I’ve got this birth mark on the inside of my thigh that I think you’d really like.”