"So, what have you been doing?"

Blaine smiled into his cellphone at the sound of Kurt's voice. He'd just finished listening to Kurt talk about the interesting family dinner he'd just had in which Burt and Carole had talked to Finn about Rachel's virginity—and Blaine remembered how much he really loved hearing Kurt go into detail during his overviews of his nightly routine. He loved every heightened pitch, every exclamation, and every colorful adjective that his boyfriend used when he spoke.

What had Blaine been doing? Well, he'd just been lying on his bed, flat on his back, closing his eyes. Picturing Kurt's beautiful, pale skin and his wildly expressive, glasz eyes, imagining that as he was hearing his smooth voice, he was also seeing his face.

"Nothing, just…thinking about you," Blaine said back into the phone, grinning.

He imagined that Kurt was smiling knowingly at this.

"Hmm, and not about Sebastian Smyth, with a 'y'?" Kurt teased in his ear.

Blaine chuckled a bit, noting his boyfriend's stab at the Warbler's schmancy last name, but he did immediately feel uncomfortable, too. His ears were turning red just from hearing that name, and he shifted up on the bed a little.

He still couldn't believe what had happened at the Lima Bean, earlier. He didn't know why he'd even agreed to meet with Sebastian, the older and, dare he admit it, attractive new lead Warbler at Dalton. It's not like the Senior was making his advances at Blaine very subtle, but—Blaine was just hoping that he could gain some kind of friendship at the end of this "pursuit," perhaps. That maybe, when Blaine told Sebastian that he was hopelessly, irreversibly taken, that the older boy would understand and they could just be—friends. I mean, they were bound to have something in common, and it wouldn't hurt to know another gay guy, just to know him.

However, Blaine found that that clearly wasn't going to be the case. Sebastian had no shame with his come-ons, and while Blaine was all for speaking what was on your mind, he couldn't help but cringe every time he felt Sebastian eye-stripping him, especially when he did it right in front of Kurt. Not only was it disrespectful to him and his boyfriend, but it was also a little unbelievable. Was Sebastian really attracted to Blaine, for who he was as a person? Because Blaine didn't feel like there was really that much to himself. Or was this just about the chase?

Blaine didn't really like being objectified all too much. He hated it, in fact. And he wasn't quite sure how he was going to handle Sebastian once he realized that he wasn't going to quit—but gratefully, Kurt had swept in on their "coffee date" with fiery cheeks and viciously icy eyes, holding out his hand to Sebastian and putting him in his place with a bitter coolness, a protective intricacy, and an implicit possessiveness that Blaine couldn't help but find incredibly hot.

Kurt's self control never ceased to amaze him. There Blaine was, stuttering and blushing and failing at dealing with Sebastian—and then there Kurt was, sitting down and calmly, sarcastically, gracefully owning the situation like it was as simple as breathing. When Kurt had slipped his arm into Blaine's, when he'd proceeded to banter on with Sebastian and effortlessly say yes to his crazy gay bar invitation—Blaine knew that whatever was going on, Kurt was going to handle it. He was safe with Kurt, and the feeling he got when that arm gripped his, when Kurt asserted to Sebastian that Blaine was his—he wanted to keep that feeling forever and ever.

In some respects, Blaine really liked feeling, well, whipped, by his boyfriend.

And, because of that, there was one part of Kurt's little spiel to Sebastian that had kind of thrown him off.

"Hey, what are you guys doin' tomorrow night?" Sebastian had asked the two of them that afternoon, eyeing the couple's arm contact once more and smiling mischievously.

Blaine had begun to shake his head and stare at Sebastian helplessly, but Kurt was continuing to master the conversation.

"Well, we're rehearsing for the school musical," Kurt answered. "And then at bedtime we do a rigorous, skin-sloughing regime over the phone together."

And, wait—whoa. What?

"As 'sexy' as that sounds," Sebastian had continued—and that was when Blaine had begun to check out for a moment—

He was completely stuck on two words. Rigorous, and especially, skin-sloughing.

Rigorous skin-sloughing—regardless of its original meaning and context—immediately drew Blaine's mind to some of those guiltily pleasing nights he would spend by himself in his room; slicking his member up with lotion and closing his eyes and inhaling tightly and thinking about Kurt, about the sounds his angelic voice would make should they ever go past one and a half bases, about the way those eyes would rip him apart from under him if Blaine were to ever top him—

Rigorous skin-sloughing regime over the phone sounded like a very fancy, very Kurt way of alluding to phone sex.

Which the two of them had never actually had before, but now—

Now it was all Blaine could marvel about in his head.

Actually hearing Kurt telling him what to do, as he got himself off. Really hearing Kurt make those kinds of sounds, in real life, in real time—

"—Scandals in West Lima." Sebastian's voice was now cutting into Blaine's short but stuffy daydream sequence.

And all of a sudden, Blaine was panicking a bit again, whispering in Kurt's ear that that was the gay bar and, what? He and Kurt would never spend their time doing something like that—going out to a bar to get drunk and dance.

He liked the idea of…skin-sloughing over the phone together, just the two of them…so much more than he did a night out.

Blaine had been in the middle of stupidly stuttering out an excuse to turn down Sebastian's offer, when Kurt looked over with piercing eyes and all of a sudden said, in a silky voice that was seriously messing with Blaine's composure—

"Let's do it."

"What?" Blaine felt both terrified and completely turned on by Kurt continuing on this streak of dominance with him.

"Yeah, I mean—we have a whole bunch of first to start crossing off our lists—" Kurt stared at Blaine with a warm, meaningful, invested smile, and then a split second later he turned quickly to Sebastian, with a threatening scowl and cold eyes, and told him,

"We're in."

(***)

"Blaine—you're not actually thinking about him are you? 'Cause that was a joke."

He snapped himself back to reality, in which he was on his bed, alone, talking to Kurt on the phone.

"N-no, of course not, I'm sorry," he said. His skin was flushing a deep pink after reviewing the day's events.

"Mm hm."

He closed his eyes again, picturing Kurt lying picturesquely on his side in his bed, probably still wearing those tight jeans on his long, slender legs, from earlier, as well as that smug, possessive smirk that he'd had on throughout the entire dialogue with Sebastian.

"Kurt," Blaine said. He paused for a moment, just letting his boyfriend's name sink in.

"Uh huh?"

"I just wanted to say thanks," Blaine continued, a little nervously. "For saving me from Sebastian and his, um—"

"Man-stealing claws?" Kurt finished.

Blaine laughed, shortly. "Yeah," he said. "Those."

He heard Kurt yawn, and he thus pictured him doing the action; stretching his arms out, opening up his pale chest and rib cage.

"No need to thank me," was the melodic reply. "As much as the sight of him sizing you up made me want to tear him to shreds, engaging him in sarcastic banter gave me quite a thrill."

Oh, it had given Blaine a thrill too, no doubt.

"I could tell," Blaine answered, gulping. Kurt was quiet for a moment, so Blaine couldn't help but to stop beating around the bush here.

"What was that you said to him a-about, um—our—rigorous, skin-sloughing regime, over the phone?"

Kurt snorted. "Oh, that?" he then poised, innocently.

Blaine's smile began to stretch futher across his warm face.

"Well, I'm not sure—what do you think that was supposed to mean?" Kurt asked then, a little deeply.

Blaine felt a few chills rise on his arms.

"You—know what you meant," he replied, trying to sound as equally composed as Kurt did.

"Because really, I was talking about, you know, those face masks and moisturizers I bought for you, over the summer," Kurt said, amusement rich in his tone. "And the way that I tell you which ones to use first, some nights, so that your skin comes out radiant and shining the next morning."

Blaine chuckled roughly. "Shut up," he bantered.

Kurt laughed, almost sadistically.

"Alright, y'caught me," he admits now, in Blaine's ear. "I suppose I implied a little more than just skin care."

"Yeah, a lot more," Blaine retorted.

He pressed his lips together, waiting for a reply. He felt the muscles in his legs and elsewhere tighten on their own accord, as his mind immediately leapt to those mental freeze frames he'd painted of Kurt for his own use.

"But why?" he asked, when nothing came, and he was starting to get antsy.

He heard Kurt shift around on his bed.

"We've never, um, actually gone—there before," Blaine continued, rambling. "Granted, I have, own my own sometimes, but—n-never with you."

More shifting around, and then a little grunt from Kurt.

"Mmh, well, it's like I said," Kurt finally responded, his voice low. "There are a lot of firsts that I want to start crossing off my list with you."

Aw, man.

"Go on," Blaine urged.

He closed his eyes again, picturing Kurt with a glowering red blush and stunning crystal eyes and a purposeful, tantalizing, wrecking ball of a smile—staring at him like he was about to show him how bad he really had Blaine wrapped around his little finger.

"You might wanna start by letting your jeans stop all their hard work," Kurt said.

This was going to be an interesting night.

Blaine would have to send Sebastian a thank you card, tomorrow morning, or something.