"Blaine, I need your help. You can do your homework later," Kurt said, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend.�He was sprawled out on Kurt's bed, his nose buried in his AP Physics book and an adorably serious look on his face.

"But-" Blaine started.

"We're going out to dinner with your parents later. I�need help deciding what to wear. I'm thinking something along the lines of Watered-Down Kurt Chic," Kurt said, already carefully looking through the items in his closet.

"Watered-down?" Blaine asked, abandoning his textbook and coming to stand beside him, bumping their hips together playfully and sneaking out an arm to snake around Kurt's waist.

"As much as I like to make fashion statements, I don't think that the people at your country club are ready for some of the more fabulous pieces I own. Like this," Kurt said, pulling a jacket from his closet.

"What's so bad about that?" Blaine asked.

"There's nothing bad about it, Blaine. It's Yves Saint Laurent and it's amazing. It's just that, this is all there is to it," Kurt said. When Blaine quirked a confused eyebrow at him, he continued, "You don't wear a shirt under it."

"So it's just... open?"�Blaine asked, his eyes obviously tracing the low-cut of the jacket as it trailed down to the belted waist.

"Yes."�Kurt didn't miss the way Blaine flushed and coughed lightly before stepping up to rifle through Kurt's clothes.

Kurt took the other end and silently they worked their way through. Blaine had passed over countless options that Kurt knew were entirely appropriate for the occasion. He didn't even seem to be looking at anything; just spending all of a second and a half on each piece before moving on to the next. Suppressing an annoyed sigh, Kurt simply kept up with his own half, pulling things here and there to ask Blaine about when they were finished.

When Blaine had reached the very end of his side, he finally took something out.

"Is this your old Dalton uniform?"�he asked, holding up the garment bag.

"No, it's my Cheerios uniform,"�Kurt explained, holding up a blue dress shirt for Blaine's approval. Blaine didn't look at the shirt, though. His suddenly wide-eyed gaze didn't break from Kurt's.

"Cheerios?�As in the cheerleading team?" he asked. His voice sounded weak, like he was about to faint.

"Yes. Are you okay?"

"You were a Cheerio?"

"For part of sophomore year. Why?"

"You have to put this on,"�Blaine managed to get out. His face was turning red and his knuckles were white and Kurt couldn't even see his fingertips anymore because they were digging so hard into the plastic bag.

"What? Why? It's awful,"�Kurt scoffed, holding up the shirt again, "Now what do you think about this?"

"No, I�mean, you have to put it on," Blaine said. Kurt studied him for a minute before raising his eyebrows.

"Do you have a cheerleader fetish that I don't know about?"

"I didn't," Blaine cleared his throat, "I didn't know that I did. But the thought of you... please just put it on, Kurt. I'll do anything. I'll dress up as whatever you want me to. I'll be whatever you want me to be.�Like firefighters?�I'll go steal a uniform from the fire station. I�don't even care if you have some weird thing for Glenn Beck or something. I'll get glasses and a chalkboard. I'll totally get a chalkboard. Just please put this on."

"Okay, first of all... Glenn Beck?�I don't even want to know why he was one of the first things to come to mind when you were thinking about roleplaying. Second of all, are you serious about this?"

Blaine took a step forward, now holding the garment bag to his chest while he grabbed Kurt's free hand and pushed the palm directly into the zipper of his pants. Kurt sucked in a breath at the feeling of Blaine's completely hard cock pressing against his open hand. He trailed his fingers over the firm length trapped inside of Blaine's pants, giving little random squeezes just to see the reaction he could get.

"Oh god yes. I'm so serious,"�Blaine said, "I'll do whatever you want me to do. If you don't want me to dress up that's fine. I'll do all the work. Just please go put it on."

Kurt studied him for a moment. They'd done a lot together. A lot, but he'd never seen Blaine unhinged like this before. He was begging.

Of course Kurt was going to do it because he loved Blaine and would do anything for him. What he was trying to think about was what he could possibly ask Blaine to do in return. He didn't have any specific fantasies. Did he?

And then the thought materialized and he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it immediately. His heart gave a few appreciative thumps and he swallowed hard. With a mostly steady hand, he reached out and took the bag from Blaine's hand. Well, he tried to, but Blaine was holding on so tightly that it took a few jerks to finally pull it loose.

"I know what I want you to do, but I need to go get it,"�Kurt said, "How does this work?"

"Um, I'm not sure," Blaine admitted, "Maybe you should go out there and change and get whatever you need for me, and when you come back in, you'll be in character."

"In character,"�Kurt repeated. Blaine nodded.�"And do what?"

"I�can take the lead, if you want me to,"�Blaine offered.

"No,"�Kurt shook his head, "I can do it. I'm sorry in advance if I'm awful at this, though.�I've obviously never done anything like it before."

"Me either," Blaine said, "More firsts."

"You're so lame," Kurt rolled his eyes, bending down slightly to press his lips against Blaine's.

"You started it."

"Forever ago."

"It's still worth mentioning, though. I did promise that all of your firsts would be with me, and here we are," Blaine said, kissing Kurt again, this time deeper and accentuated with a moan that left Kurt's toes curling into the soles of his shoes. But just as soon as it had started, he'd pulled back and was giving Kurt a little push away. "Now go change. What do you want me to do while you're gone?"

"I want you to strip to your underwear and wait on the bed,"�Kurt ordered, backing toward the door, "We won't have much time when�I�get back." And with that, he left.
�

* � * � *

"You can do this,"�Kurt whispered to himself.

And he could.�He would be lying if he said that this wasn't a fantasy that he'd had for a long time. It was just that he'd suppressed it so much that he hadn't let himself mull it over recently. Not since, well... not since Sam had transferred to McKinley.

It hadn't taken long at all for Kurt to change into his Cheerios uniform.�It didn't fit as well as it used to. He'd filled out and grown quite a bit since then, so the pants were a little too short and snug and the shirt fit too tightly across his chest and arms, but something told Kurt that Blaine probably wouldn't mind that at all. He pulled the pants down a little lower on his hips so that they weren't riding up around his ankles. A little of his stomach was showing. Again, he really doubted that Blaine was going to complain.

Finding what he needed for Blaine's own costume had been relatively easy. He'd been forced to dig through some pretty terrifying things in Finn's closet in order to find them, but he'd emerged from the black hole of porno mags and dirty laundry relatively unscathed. All that was left was coming up with the story.

He knew a little about roleplaying. He'd overheard Puck telling Finn about a roleplaying session he'd done with Santana sophomore year. Thankfully, he'd been able to block most of the horrifying details from his memory, but he'd managed to retain the basics. It was important for both of them to stay in character and to have a safeword in case things went too far. It needed to be a comfortable experience for both of them. Kurt definitely wasn't comfortable in his now ill-fitting uniform, but he knew that the second Blaine's eyes were raking over him in it, he'd probably be forgetting all about the awkward fit.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up to his door and gripped firmly onto the handle, not wanting Blaine to be able to open it easily. They needed to talk first.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked. He could hear Blaine jump off of the bed and head for the door. The knob tried to turn in Kurt's hand but he held it tight.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. We just need to work out a few things first,"�Kurt said, "We need a safe word."

"Right," Blaine said, "Have anything in mind?"

"Uh, Judy?" Kurt suggested hesitantly.

"Judy is good," Blaine laughed, "Now will you come in here, please?"

"I don't exactly know how to go about this. I mean, from what I've heard, people usually have a script or something that they use," Kurt said.

"Well, I can help if you tell me what I'm going to be doing for you," Blaine said, "If it doesn't work with the Cheerio thing, we'll just take turns."

"No, they definitely go together," Kurt said, looking down at the cumbersome object in his hands.

"Well, then tell me who I'm going to be."

"You're,"�Kurt took in a shaky breath, "Blaine Anderson, wide receiver for the McKinley football team."

A thunk sounded on the door and Kurt could distinctly hear Blaine let out a broken moan.

"Oh god. Okay,"�he said, his voice taking on the deep raspy tone it did whenever they were in bed together. As if Kurt's pants weren't tight enough already. "Anything specific to go with this fantasy?"

"Well, I was thinking that maybe you forgot your football pads and I�had to go get them for you minutes before the championship game is supposed to start. If that's okay. I don't really know-" Kurt started, but Blaine was wrenching the door open from under Kurt's hold and staring at him with a feral look in his eyes.

"Thank god. What took you so long?" Blaine asked, pulling the pads from Kurt's hands and settling them in on his shoulders. Kurt furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak asking what in the hell he meant since they had just been in the middle of, you know, a conversation. "The game starts in less than five minutes."

Oh.

"You have plenty of time to get dressed and on the field. And to thank me for running all the way to your house to get those,"�Kurt said, only having to hesitate a few times in order to get the words out.

"You're right, I�should thank you," Blaine said, adjusting the pads that were a little too broad for his shoulders, "I should do a lot of things to you. You have no idea, Kurt, how hard it is to get through every game with you on the sidelines. Looking at you in this uniform, wanting to know what's underneath it. How smooth you are. How muscular. How fucking big and gorgeous your cock must be, because I can see plenty of it through those pants, and it's all I can do not to just throw you on the ground and rip your uniform off every single week."

Kurt swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Wow, Blaine was really good at this.

"You think that's bad? Imagine what it must be like for me. I watch you in those skintight pants running, catching, throwing, dripping wet. You have no idea how sexy you are out there. All I can think about is what I would have to do to you to get you that sweaty."

"Well, do you want to find out?" Blaine asked, "Coach'll be pissed at me if I don't warm up before the game."

"We don't want that,"�was all Kurt got out before Blaine's lips were on his. They were biting, sucking, rough in a way that Blaine had never kissed him before. Kurt's knees gave out a little, sending him stumbling until his back slammed into the door. The hard press of the football pads dug into his chest, holding him there as Blaine sucked on his tongue and palmed him through the awful red pants.

"The guys on the team know," Blaine rasped in his ear as he pulled back, still stroking Kurt through the thick polyester material, "They're all busy looking at Santana or Brittany, but they know that I stare at you. I don't even care that they notice. I don't try to hide it. I couldn't hide it even if I wanted to. You make me so hard, Kurt."

�"Try having to lift Quinn Fabray in the air when you're so hard it hurts,"�Kurt breathed, reaching out to brush his hands over the pads before he trailed them down Blaine's stomach.

"You look so fucking sexy in this uniform," Blaine breathed, dropping to his knees. He scooted forward until his face was right there, nuzzling at Kurt's cock through his pants and reaching around to grab his ass, pulling him even closer. As Kurt looked down at him, his heart fluttered.

He'd fantasized about having a football player go down on him before, but his imagination had never been powerful enough to imagine that they would be this enthusiastic about it. Usually, it involved him subtly seducing the clueless straight boy until he was no longer able to resist Kurt's charms. This was better than anything his mind had allowed him to dream of.

"I wonder what your teammates would think, knowing that you're on your knees right now when you're supposed to be running drills on the field,"�Kurt rasped as Blaine pulled on the elastic waist of Kurt's pants until they were bunched around his knees.

"Fuck them. I'd much rather drill you," Blaine said before sinking his mouth over Kurt's cock. He didn't stop until Kurt could feel the tip nudge into the back of Blaine's throat. Kurt tried to pull back, the sensation coupled with his already overstimulated nerves bringing him close to the brink so quickly it was truly embarrassing. There was no good reason why this all should have been so hot, but it was. It so was.

"Blaine," Kurt rasped out, his fingers grasping for purchase on the pads. Blaine pulled off and firmly gripped Kurt's dick at the base.

"You're not going to come yet," he said, "I'm not finished with you. I�don't know if we'll ever get another chance like this and it's not ending yet." Kurt just nodded and hooked his fingers in the pad's front laces until Blaine was standing and kissing him hot and dirty again.

"The game starts soon,"�Kurt whispered, "So if you're going to fuck me, you'd better get to it."

Blaine moaned so deep and raw that it sounded like a growl. Before Kurt could even register what was happening, Blaine had bent down and flung Kurt over his shoulder, one hand on his bare ass to keep him steady as he closed the distance to Kurt's bed.

Blaine was carrying him to the bed. Oh my god.�Kurt couldn't suppress the giggle that escaped his mouth as Blaine dropped him unceremoniously to the mattress.

"Turn over,"�Blaine said as he grabbed the lube from the drawer in Kurt's bedside table. A shudder coursed through Kurt's body as he did as he was told. "Scoot back. I want your feet on the floor. Lean forward on your elbows. Yeah, just like that."

Kurt felt cold and exposed bent over the bed in this way, but soon enough, one of Blaine's hands was gripping his hip while a warm and wet finger slid over his entrance. Kurt bucked back into the sensation, wanting more.

"I don't think we have time for you to tease me,"�Kurt choked out, the words barely leaving his lips before Blaine was pushing two fingers inside. Kurt hissed at the sudden sensation of Blaine dragging his fingers in and out in an agonizingly slow speed, occasionally dragging his knuckles across Kurt's prostate as he pushed back in.

"God, you look amazing like this. I�knew you would,"�Blaine moaned, fisting his free hand in the bottom of Kurt's shirt and shoving it up until it was gathered around his chest.

"Just do it already,"�Kurt said, his voice hitching mid-sentence as Blaine again nudged his fingers in a way that made Kurt's cock positively ache for more.

He turned his head, his mouth dropping open as he watched Blaine rip the condom wrapper open with his teeth while he slid a third finger inside. Kurt clenched around Blaine's fingers as he withdrew them, missing them as soon as they were gone. But not too much, because he knew what came next and it was so much better than three fingers. No matter how amazing and talented they were.

"When I'm out on the field tonight, if I miss a catch, it's going to be all your fault,"�Blaine said as he shoved his his boxer briefs down with one hand and quickly rolled on the condom. Kurt could feel Blaine's cock pressing at his entrance, and he rubbed his hands over Kurt's ass before grabbing onto his hips and slowly pushing inside.

"Oh god," Kurt choked out. The feeling of fullness and the friction was perfect as Blaine slid forward until his hips were pressed against Kurt's bare skin and the hands on Kurt's hips trembled every so slightly. "Why will it be my fault?"

"Because all I'm going to be able to see is this: your perfect ass. God, you're so gorgeous," Blaine murmured, finally pulling back partway before jerking his hips forward again.

The rhythmic slap of skin on skin filled the room as Blaine repeatedly thrust, pulling Kurt's hips back to meet his. Every third stroke or so, he made sure to angle his hips just right so he slid over Kurt's prostate. Eventually, Kurt couldn't take it anymore. His dick was so hard it hurt, and he tried to balance on one elbow so he could jerk himself off. The positioning didn't work well, though, and he almost fell face first onto the bed in the process.

"Harder," Kurt groaned, shoving his hips back as he righted himself again, "Please, harder."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Blaine said, bending down until he could wrap a hand around Kurt's cock. The sensation was so welcome, so necessary, that Kurt felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

"Yes," he said, gripping his hands into the comforter as Blaine fucked him with newfound abandon. The strokes Blaine was using on Kurt's dick were erratic and dry, but it was perfect that way. When Kurt closed his eyes, he imagined that they were in the McKinley locker room, Blaine bending him over a bench or a sink while the rest of the team was out on the field waiting for him.

"Fuck, Kurt. I'm coming,"�Blaine gritted out, gripping hard onto Kurt's cock without meaning to as his hips gave a few hard thrusts before stilling. The feeling of Blaine pulsing inside of him mixed with the firm grip on his dick was enough to send Kurt over the edge, shooting streams of come onto his stomach and the bedspread. "Oh my god."

"You'd better get out there,"�Kurt said, heaving raspy breaths as Blaine pulled out of him and swayed a little on his feet, "The team's counting on you."

"I'm going to need some fluids first," Blaine grinned as Kurt flopped over onto his back beside the messed spot on the comforter that was going to be a real bitch to get clean.

"I can go get you a Gatorade,"�Kurt offered.

"In a minute." Blaine tied off the condom and dropped it in the garbage before dropping to the floor between Kurt's thighs. He leaned in and gripped his hands into the bunched red fabric at Kurt's knees before leaning in to lick the come from Kurt's stomach.

"Oh my god, Blaine,"�Kurt moaned, his eyes rolling back and his head dropping to the mattress.

"We can't have you going out there to cheer me on when you're all sticky, now can we?"

"No. That would definitely be a bad thing," Kurt said, lacing his fingers in Blaine's hair as he methodically sucked Kurt's stomach clean.

"You taste amazing," Blaine whispered against Kurt's wet and reddened skin before pressing a chaste kiss just below his belly button. He slid up the mattress, hovering over Kurt's body until he could kiss him. Their tongues slid together slick and needy, Kurt tasting himself on Blaine's tongue.

"Ready for that Gatorade?" Kurt asked.

"That sounds perfect,"�Blaine smiled. Kurt smiled and righted his clothes. He was almost to the door when Blaine spoke again. "Thank you."

"For what?" Kurt asked, "I'm merely doing my duty as a Cheerio to service the needs of the football team. Now stay here and don't move. We can't have anyone seeing what a mess you are this close to the big game starting."

Blaine laughed and dropped onto his back.

"Best afternoon ever," he said to the ceiling as Kurt slipped out the door.