Received 1 new picture from: Kurt Hummel

Blaine sneaks a glance to the front of the classroom, but Mr. Collins is still so absorbed in his lecture that he hasn't even notice Gabriel O'Neil has fallen asleep on his desk, or that Rowena Ellis and Melanie Griffiths are painting each other's nails in the back row. He pulls his phone out under the table, because he's at least going to try to be subtle - unlike Meridith Whyte, who is actually whispering openly into her phone two seats to his left, unseen by the teacher absorbed in the droning sound of his own voice - and clicks the little button to open the new photograph, assuming it will be some cute shenanigan from the Senior Skip Day currently keeping his boyfriend from him.

What he sees instead nearly makes him drop the phone, one of his knees thudding loudly and painfully into the underside of his desk as he grabs for the device before it hits the floor and skitters away, which would no doubt damage the phone and attract the attention of the entire class. Making sure no one is looking - especially not Tina and Sam, staring glassily at the front of the classroom, on either side of him - Blaine unlocks the screen again and stares down at the photo, running his tongue involuntarily across suddenly dry lips and tugging a little at his collar as everything suddenly seems too hot.

In the picture, Kurt, his boyfriend - his Kurt - is gazing at the camera with smoky dark, heavily-lidded eyes, giving him one of his most potent come-hither smiles, head tipped back against pillows in a gesture Blaine has come to know only too well over the last few months. Gulping loudly, Blaine gives another cursory glance around to make sure no one is watching before texting Kurt.

Sweetie, are you touching yourself in that picture?

Mm-hmm. Thinking about you.

Kurt! I'm in class!

Which one?

History with Collins. Tudor England.

That's the most boring class in the history of McKinley. I guess it's good that I'm around to distract you.

What are you thinking about me? Specifically.

Last week, your room. I have a new appreciation for walls after that.

Blaine squirms in his seat, earning a suspicious look from Tina, the hand holding his phone trembling violently as he squeezes his thigh hard with the other, digging his nails deep into his flesh to stave off the heat pooling in his stomach. The onslaught of memories doesn't help either, remembering the high, broken, oh so pretty voice Kurt used when he begged, the bruises still patterning his hips from how tightly Kurt had gripped him, remembering that split lip when Kurt had kissed him much too hard and the moans panted in his ear as cool fingers grabbed desperately at his hair.

I could go for a repeat performance. My parents are going to be out tonight.

You'll habe to pikc me up.

Blaine raises his eyebrows at that, because his boyfriend is nothing if not a literate texter, unlike so many people he knows. His fingers pause over the screen, unsure of what to text back, when the device buzzes loudly in his hand, attracting a look from Sam, but, luckily, he doesn't pursue after a cursory, very obvious glance over Blaine's shoulder at his dimmed phone screen.

Received 1 new picture from: Kurt Hummel

This time, Blaine doesn't hesitate to open this new offering, and bites down into his lip, hard enough that the salty taste of his own blood floods his mouth, to muffle a moan at the sight that presents itself to him. This time, it's a close-up of Kurt's face, and Blaine has never seen anything so sexy in all his years. Kurt's eyes are dark, pupils blown so wide his irises are barely visible but for a thin ring of mesmerizing dark blue, staring straight into the camera with a searingly hot gaze that makes Blaine feel as if his insides are slowly melting, two of his fingers in his mouth and, though the image is fuzzy with the low quality of phone cameras and blurred by Blaine's violently shaking hand, he can just make out bright slashes of white on Kurt's hands.

He stands up and walks out, vision blurred, stumbling along empty corridors, ignoring the shocked shouts of his classmates and monotonous threats from his teacher, simply walking until he finds a bathroom and can dart inside, locking himself in a cubicle and grabbing up his phone to dial Kurt.

The phone rings for too long, for hours, for endless years, until Kurt answers, voice still a little high and breathy in the way that makes Blaine shudder desperately, already sliding his hand beneath the waistband of his jeans, too wound up to wait. "Hi baby, what can I do for you?" he asks sweetly.

"You fucking tease," Blaine hisses, groaning as he opens the button on his jeans, relieving some of the pressure on his achingly hard cock, and wraps his fist around himself. "How could you just send me those pictures? It's fucking porn, babe, and now I'm stuck in this bathroom and I can't think of anything but you sucking your come off your fingers, fuck."

"Touch yourself, Blaine," Kurt breaths out harshly into the phone, already sounding desperate and wanting, something that only serves to turn Blaine on more. "Pretend it's me."

"It's always you," Blaine sighs, collapsing back against the wall of the stall, knees too weak to hold his weight anymore. "I miss you so much, Kurt. I wish you were here right now so I could take you right here, in this bathroom. I'd make you scream and the entire school would hear you, and they'd all know that you're mine. You're mine, Kurt."

"Yours, baby, always yours," Kurt pants, and Blaine can hear the slap of skin on skin at the other end of the line. "Are you close, baby? Want to come with you."

"I love you," Blaine murmurs as the tension builds and builds at the base of his spine, the heat in his stomach twisting up so tight it's almost painful, head pounding and vision blurring. "I love you so much, babe, you have no idea."

"I love you too," Kurt whines, and Blaine knows he's close, thanks whatever deities may be listening for it, because he couldn't stand waiting any longer. "Oh God, baby, I'm-" and Kurt lets out the deliciously familiar low moan that means he's coming, and Blaine follows him not a second later, not hearing anything past the ringing in his ears until he finally comes down and hears Kurt's heavy breathing on the other end.

"Are you okay?" he asks, grabbing for tissues to clean himself up and praying no one is concerned enough to come looking for him yet.

"Yeah, just need a moment to…to catch my breath," Kurt murmurs, and Blaine can hear the smile in his voice, hear how utterly blissful he is. "That was intense."

"You know, my parents are still going to be out tonight," Blaine teases, buttoning his jeans once more, opening the stall door and performing a cursory check in the mirror, washing his hands to rid himself of any trace of what he walked out of class to do. "And as much as I love phone sex while I'm in the school bathroom, I'd really like to see you face to face."

"Pick me up at four and I'll make sure we both go to school limping tomorrow," Kurt assures him. "I love you."

"I love you too," Blaine whispers, and he keeps the phone pressed to his ear until he hears the click and dial tone. Only then does he slip the device back into his bag and hurry back through empty corridors, footsteps too loud in the huge cavernous spaces, walk back into the classroom and slide into his seat as if nothing has happened.

Mr. Collins doesn't even notice.