“I don’t know whether this is a good idea.” Kurt breathes softly.

“Come on, don’t be like that. I need a partner and you’re perfect for it. I can’t practice on my own.” Another voice replied, gently, coaxing.

“But…I don’t know if I can…”

A laugh.

“Come oooon. Kurt. I’ve seen those hips of yours move and I know how flexible you are. You will be the perfect partner for this. Pretty please with a free ticket to the show I’m in on top?”

“Make it two and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“…Done.”

“Alright. Let’s get this show on the road.”

xxXxxXxxXxx

Blaine frowned and lowered his hand, which had been raised to knock on the door of the large studio apartment in Bushwick where his (finally, finally again) boyfriend and Rachel lived as music stared pouring out.

He had been looking forward to visiting Kurt, bring him flowers, just spend some time with him, kiss him, hold him, love him, it had been way, way too long and he knew it was his fault, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

But now it seemed that Kurt was…occupied. With another guy.

The voice of the other person had seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it, and he couldn’t help the burning heat of jealousy coursing through his veins at the thought of whatever was happening in the apartment just now.

xxXxxXxxXxx

Kurt smiled at Brody as he went to turn on the music, watching him go while he himself stretched lightly. Brody looked good in the white tank top and low slung black sweatpants, showing off his ass(ets) quite nicely.

Kurt himself was wearing a tight black shirt and black yoga pants, slowly sliding to the ground, leaning his body over the leg up front.

The music started and Brody walked over to him, pulling him to his feet and close to his chest. Kurt steadied himself, hands on the firm chest in front of him. He kept his eyes firmly trained on Brody’s face, because even though he couldn’t deny that Brody was hot, all he could think about was how much better Blaine would look in what the older boy was wearing.

It was distracting to say the least.

Brody grinned.

“Let’s get ready to tango.”

xxXxxXxxXxx

It was only about 20 minutes later (it had felt a lot longer to Blaine), when Rachel finally showed up, bringing the key he needed to get inside. What he – they found when they came inside made both of their jaws drop.

Kurt and another guy (Cody? Brock…? Brody?) were dancing.

The flare of jealousy at the other’s hands on Kurt’s body, of another’s body moving against Kurt’s, moving it, soft and pliant, careful and precise but energetic, was quickly overpowered by the heat pooling in his belly, his mouth going dry as he adjusted his stance to alleviate some of the sudden pressure in his pants.

Rachel was staring, so obviously scandalized that…Brody? had chosen Kurt to practice with instead of her, eyes burning with jealous anger, but before she can storm forward to demand an explanation, Blaine stops her with a hand on her arm and a shake of his head, eyes never looking away from Kurt.

Their movements are swift and practiced, well aimed and it seems like they are giving themselves to the rhythm of the music entirely.

Pressed close, out, twist, turn, close again, lift, bending over.

They’re good, really good, but Blaine can’t help to wish that he was the one Kurt was pressed up against. Then, as if he had heard his thoughts, Kurt looks up and his eyes find Blaine’s.

Quickly he removes himself from the arms of the other guy, flying across the apartment and into Blaine’s arms. Blaine catches him, dropping his bag and the roses he’s been holding as his arms come up around Kurt and their lips crash together in a frantic kiss.

Distantly he registers Rachel stalking towards the other boy, Brody, now he’s sure of the name, since Rachel is hissing it, but every trace of jealousy disappears as Kurt’s pulls away and glasz eyes glowing with happiness and affection bore into his own.

“Hey.” Kurt says, slightly breathless.

“Hey.” Blaine smiles, pulling his boyfriend into another kiss.