They’re lying on Kurt’s bed, Kurt’s body pinning Blaine’s against the mattress, as they take advantage of the privacy. It was getting increasingly difficult to get moments alone, with the Hudson-Hummels fussing over the impending departure of their two sons. But today, they have the house to themselves. Carole and Burt are out at Washington, and Finn had gone to Puck’s for one last sleepover before they headed their separate ways. Today, it’s just Kurt and Blaine, lying in bed together, still fully clothed with the knowledge that the whole evening was theirs and theirs only.  

And it’s nice, knowing that they have at least this one hot summer night together. Blaine loves having Kurt pressing down on him like this. It’s still only evening, beams of sunlight lighting up the room. Kurt pulls his lips away from Blaine’s, causing Blaine’s eyes to flutter open, and the two stay for a moment, simply staring into each other’s eyes. Then Kurt shifts up slightly to press his lips to Blaine’s forehead, and Blaine’s gaze catches on something dark and large on Kurt’s chest.

Crap. The cockroach brooch.

Don’t be mistaken, Blaine loves Kurt’s sense of fashion. His quirkiness with his clothing choices is just one of the things that make him so unique. And his collection of brooches is just part of that. But Blaine doesn’t particularly want to be staring at a cockroach when he’s half-hard. He has to be cautious though – Kurt has a certain fondness for the brooch, and a lack of sensitivity right now could lead to hurting Kurt’s pride, as well as a torturously long night for Blaine. As Kurt kisses at Blaine’s lips once again, Blaine is struck with an idea.

“Too many layers,” he murmurs against Kurt’s lips, fingers fumbling at Kurt’s top buttons

“There’s only one today, Blaine,” laughs Kurt. He takes Blaine’s wrists in his hands and pins them down firmly beside him. He deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping over Blaine’s teeth. Blaine moans at the familiar yet always welcome sensation, momentarily distracted as his eyelids flutter closed. He deepens the kiss, eyes shut yet far from blind.  But then Kurt releases Blaine’s wrists, fingers threading into Blaine’s hair, as he shuffles up Blaine again to rut his hips against Blaine. And as turned on as Blaine is, with his hands now free to caress Kurt’s back, the roach brooch is merely  centimetres from his face, too close to ignore. He lets out a groan of both arousal and frustration.

“Still too many,” insists Blaine, eyes fluttering closed, forcing the brooch out of sight as Kurt kisses at his neck.

Kurt smiles against Blaine’s neck, before lifting himself up to hover over Blaine. “I just want to stay like this for a while. We have all night.”

Blaine takes advantage of the fact that his hands are now free. He wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist and, in one swift motion, rolls them over so that now he’s on top of Kurt. He presses his thigh between Kurt’s legs, earning an animalistic moan from Kurt in response.

 “Okay,” murmurs Blaine, placing a kiss to the edge of Kurt’s jaw. “It’s just, I want to see all of you so badly.”

And he isn’t lying. Kurt will be gone in a few days, and Blaine doesn’t want to waste any opportunity to memorize every inch of his porcelain skin before he leaves.         

Blaine makes a trail of kisses down Kurt’s neck, until something tickles at Blaine’s chin. He starts, lurching away from Kurt. His gaze drops immediately to the cockroach brooch, before flicking up to meet Kurt’s gaze. He mentally hits himself for not recognising it as the brooch straight away.

“Blaine?” asks Kurt, clearly wounded. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, baby,” soothes Blaine, dipping down again to kiss Kurt’s neck again. But Kurt hadn’t failed to notice the path of Blaine’s gaze. He pushes Blaine off him with a hand, gazing rather severely into Blaine’s eyes.

“Do you have a problem with the cockroach brooch?” asks Kurt, raising his eyebrows.

Blaine bites down his lip.

“Blaine.”

Blaine sighs and rolls off Kurt. He shuffles so that he’s on his side, head propped up on one hand, as he gazes down at his boyfriend.

“I love the cockroach brooch, Kurt,” says Blaine softly. “I love anything that you wear. I thought you knew that.”

“But?” presses Kurt, because he can feel that it’s coming.

“It’s just, not exactly a turn-on to be staring at a huge cockroach when you’re trying to please your boyfriend,” admits Blaine nervously.

“Well,” says Kurt breathily, “I know a way that you can please me without having to be anywhere near it.”

Blaine smiles. He places a hand on Kurt’s jaw before leaning in to place his lips tenderly on Kurt’s.

“I can deal with it,” whispers Blaine. “I’m just sorry if it startles me.”

“That’s good, because I put up with the hair gel,” says Kurt with a smile. He rolls over, pulling Blaine on top of him.

“Hmm,” Blaine hums into Kurt’s lips as they meet his, tongue sweeping over teeth, asking for permission once more. Blaine’s about to let Kurt in when the meaning of the words register. Blaine’s eyes shoot open, and he props himself up off Kurt. “Wait, what?”

 “Well, it’s like what you said,” shrugs Kurt nonchalantly. “It’s not that I don’t like it about you, it’s just that when I’m running my fingers through your hair and it feel so – so gel-like – it’s not exactly a turn on.”

Blaine hadn’t even considered that before. And, he has to admit, his ego is slightly wounded. But he still wants to make this perfect.

“Alright then,” says Blaine, getting off Kurt and shuffling so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going?” asks Kurt.

“How about I wash the gel out of my hair, and you take the brooch off, and we’ll both be happier?” suggests Blaine.

“That’s not exactly how it works, Blaine,” sighs Kurt.

But Blaine ignores him. He begins to undo his buttons, feeling Kurt’s gaze fixed on him

 “Come on, Kurt,” says Blaine seductively, as he begins to pull off his shirt. “I’ll let you wash the gel out.”

“Still not how it works,” says Kurt. But his eyes are fixed on Blaine’s back now. Kurt’s mouth is slightly agape as he watches Blaine reveal his sculpted shoulder at a torturously slow pace. Blaine’s teasing him.  

“We have the whole house to ourselves, baby,” says Blaine, standing up now. He pushes down his pants, along with his boxers, and Kurt finds himself staring straight at Blaine’s rounded ass. So close, yet still too far away to touch.

“Blaine!” cries Kurt. It’s clearly supposed to be a sign of Kurt’s indignation, but it just comes out as desperate and needy.

Blaine, sure enough, ignores him.

“But if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” he says casually. As if he doesn’t know what he’s doing to his boyfriend by standing there, naked, yet out of reach. “I guess I’ll just go shower by myself.”

And with an irritating amount of confidence, Blaine retreats, fully naked, down the hallway of the Hudson-Hummel residence. Kurt watches him (or rather, his ass) go, before sighing. Screw you and your perfect ass, Blaine, thinks Kurt, as he pulls off his own shirt and follows his boyfriend to the bathroom.