One

The first time Kurt Hummel met Blaine Anderson, he was in a hotel room. Not like that, of course not, but to be tutored in French. He was briefly spending a semester of his senior year in high school in France, and was having trouble understanding every wild sentence thrown his way by a passing native.

So Blaine had offered to tutor him. They had been at a café for breakfast, and the waitress asked, "Voulez-vous de la crème ou de sucre dans votre café?" Upon seeing Kurts blank look, she tried again. "Autre chose?"

He replied embarrassedly, "Non, merci. Cest très bien," and turned away from the waitress to the group hed been assigned.

"You look like you need help," a cockily teasing voice said from the closely placed table behind Kurts.

The voice belonged to a boy who was from another French class, and not in any of his other classes either, except glee club. They hadnt officially been introduced, and Kurt didnt lnow his name, so Kurt stuck out a hand and replied:

"Im Kurt. And no, Im fine. Im usually not that bad, I swear."

The boy shook his hand. "Blaine. And she was asking whether youd like cream or sugar," he said snarkily. "Im pretty sure thats, like, beginner vocabulary."

"Okay, so Im a little rusty. Doesnt affect my grades, so Im fine."

"Not fine in France, honey." Kurt ignored the endearment. "Do you want some help?"

Kurt glanced at Blaines face, now serious. "Uh, sure..." he trailed off awkwardly.

"Okay, cool. My room number is 129; I didnt get stuck with roomates so you can just knock when youre free and Ill be too." He added, "I dont have much to do anyway," upon seeing the skeptical look on Kurts face.

-

Kurt paused before with his hand clenched in a fist. Was he really serious? He looked serious. Kurt took a  breath and knocked before he could change his mind.

A disheveled Blaine opened the door, his hair ungelled (unlike at the café). "Oh, hi Kurt," he answered. "Come in." He stepped aside and Kurt walked inside, trying not to think about the way Blaines lips formed his name.

"I usually dont invite people to my room to do this, but theres just something about you..." Blaine admitted once they were seated in the comfortable chairs in the corner.

"That sounds like a pick-up line." Kurt smirked. "I know its not," he said quickly after Blaines eyes widened.

"Of course not." There was an awkward silence for a moment until Blaine said, "So... what are you rusty in?"

Kurt replied, "Mostly just restaurant stuff and some health."

They reviewed for a while, Kurt writing down meanings to study later, and soon enough they had been there for two hours, having abandoned French an hour before. They chatted about everything and nothing, Ohio and their families, music and fashion. Kurt left with a smile on his face, almost forgetting their earlier awkwardness, but not quite.

Two

Kurt dropped himself heavily onto a barstool, flashing his fake I.D. at the bartender behind the bar, and ordering a few shots of tequilla. His newly acquired internship at Vogue wasnt going so well, and he was afraid hed scream if his boss didnt get his head out of his ass and notice that the other interns didnt do half as well at their jobs as Kurt. At 19, Kurt shouldnt have been this stressed about a job. It probably wouldnt go anywhere anyway, unless his boss quit.

"You look a little off today, but you definitely still turn me on," a voice whispered into Kurts ear teasingly.

Kurt guffawed. "You are such a nerd," he laughed, turning around to face Blaine. "And the reason is because of Mr. Felix."

Blaine gave him a What did he do now? look. "Oui, vous lair fatigué."

"I am. He promoted David and James yesterday. The nerve. I mean, look at them, sitting around on their asses all day pretending to make sure Mr. Felixs schedule was all set, and here I am getting his coffee, actually planning his day, and even fucking emailing his mother for him. And he promotes those two assholes?" Kurt complained, taking a shot.

Blaine stole a shot from him and drank one himself, replying, "Dont worry, if you keep doing what youre doing, hell promote you too. And if he doesnt, hes blind."

"Ooh, I love this song. Dance with me," Kurt waggled his eyebrows and tugged Blaine to the floor by his wrist. His words were mixing together a little from the tequila, but he was still coordinated enough to shimmy the fuck out of Bon Jovis "Its My Life."

Blaine almost grinded against him, but stopped himself. He wasnt that drunk yet. He dropped his head on Kurts shoulder. "Lets do body shots. Bet you cant get through three without popping a boner," he whispered, feeling Kurt grin against his hair.

"Is that a challenge? I bet you cant get through two."

"Its on."

They ordered the shots, and rock-paper-scissored for who went first; Kurt won so he pushed Blaine onto a stool and leaned him over the bar, sprinkling salt on his neck and placing a lime slice in his mouth. He tossed back his fourth shot of the night, quickly dragging his tongue over Blaines neck, tasting the salt and sweat. He bit into the lime, squeezing his eyes shut when the sour fruit exploded in his mouth.

"Your turn," he said in Blaines ear, and replaced Blaine with himself on the seat.

Kurts shirt was lower-cut than Blaines, so Blaine sprinkled the salt on Kurts collarbone. He took his shot, scraping his teeth down Kurts neck before sucking a hickey into Kurts collarbone. He was determined to win the bet.

Kurt won.

Three

Kurt spread the stereotypical plaid blanket over the clearing hed picked for his and Blaines picnic behind his childhood home.

They were visiting Lima for Easter, staying for another three days, then going back to New York, where theyd lived together for the past two years. They were both 21 now, long past the time when theyd had to sneak into bars to get laid. Kurt was going steady with a man hed met in his dance class, a man with a sexy ass and strong thighs and a defined abdomen.

But Chris wasnt Blaine.

Kurt knew that his crush was silly. He wasnt a teenager anymore after all, wasnt supposed to be that easily impressed. But of course, he was. It had been a lot harder to resist his best friend when theyd moved in together.

Kurt sat on the blanket hed just laid on the ground, pulling the picnic basket toward him and starting to lay out the sandwiches and fruit hed prepared. Blaine walked out of the woods, brandishing a light purple flower for Kurt and sitting cross-legged on the ground next to him.

He bit into his salami sandwich with mayonnaise, his favorite, and moaned aloud. "How are you so good at making these?" Blaine asked, his mouth full.

Kurt chewed his own sandwich. "Maybe its just because Im better than you at everything."

"Maybe."

They ate in silence for a while, the only sounds to be heard birds chirping and the newly-grown leaves on the trees rustling softly from the warm breeze blowing from the west.

"We should go swimming," Blaine whispered, almost as if he didnt want to break some sort of spell that had been cast over the land.

"If The Lake hasnt dried up by now." The Lake was Kurt and Blaines secret place, the place they used to go to when they wanted to be alone, when things got too much. Theyd discovered it a month after graduation, on Blaines ninteenth birthday, and immediately fell in love with it.

Kurt remembered exactly why. The place hadnt lost its charm in the years he and Blaine had been gone, he thought, as Blaine and he jumped on the rocks across a stream leading from the clearing in which theyd had their picnic to The Lake.

The Lake wasnt exactly a lake, more of a pond, but Blaine and Kurt called it that just the same. Vines and weeds draped themselves over the boulders surrounding The Lake, and they could still see the bottom through the bright, clear water.

Suddenly, Kurt felt himself being lifted by the waist, and thrown into the freezing water. He screamed, taking a deep breath at the last second as he hit the water. He surfaced, shaking the water off of his hair and pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "Blaine Anderson, if these clothes are ruined, youre dead." He moved to the edge and splashed water up at Blaine, his face wrinkling into a smile at its meager effect.

Blaine laughed and dug his phone out of his pocket. "Can I take your picture to prove to all my friends that angels do exist?" he asked, sticking out his tongue and grinning at the look on Kurts face.

"Shut up," Kurt growled.

"You know you love it." Cheeky smile.

"I would put down that phone if I were you." Kurt didnt pause to notice the confused look on Blaines face before lunging at his friends ankle and tugging.

Four

"Kuuuurt!" Blaine called happily one Saturday afternoon as he got home, tugging the door shut behind him and setting the cartons of Chinese takeout on the table in their cozy apartment. "Food!"

The apartment was silent. Blaine frowned. Was Kurt even here? He texted him quickly, shucking off his shoes and heading to Kurts room. Maybe he was taking a shower.

The door was halfway open. Blaine softly knocked and walked into Kurts room. "Kurt?" he said incredulously as he saw Kurts sleeping form twisted in the sheets.

" M up," he groaned tiredly, bolting upright in bed and rubbing his eyes. He eyed Blaines day clothes. "What the fuck is the time?"

"Almost one," Blaine replied, supressing a smile and eyeing Kurts bedhead. His hair was ruffled, sticking straight up, some of it falling into his eyes. He pushed it out of his face and rubbed his eyes again, his biceps rippling under his skin.

Blaine eyed his shirtless chest, admiring perky pink nipples and defined muscles, and swallowed, shaking his head. "Youre so beautiful you made me forget my pick-up line," he breathed as Kurt scooted up and glanced at the clock on his nightstand.

Kurt grinned, the smile fading as he noticed the way Blaines eyes were flicking up and down his chest, the way his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

Neither of them said a word. Neither of them had to. Blaine walked slowly forward, locking eyes with Kurt, hazel to grey-blue, the food forgotten. He reached the bed.

Kurt grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, their lips almost touching. "Are you...?" Kurt questioned.

"Oh yeah, I remembered my pick-up line. Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to lie to my diary?" Blaine breathed, pulse quickening under Kurts hands.

"Do you Google cheesy pick-up lines or something?" Kurt leaned that last inch, pressing their lips together and groaning because finally. Finally they were giving in to years of unresolved sexual tension, and their kiss reflected that. 

There was too much tongue and too much teeth, and it was too sloppy and too long and too perfect. Blaine straddled Kurts lap, deepening the kiss with a better angle. Their noses bumped and Blaine almost giggled into Kurts mouth.

"Putain, Kurt, jai attendu pendant si longtemps," he mumbled against Kurts lips after they came up for air, letting his eyes close.

"Moi aussi," came the simple reply.

Their Chinese food had gotten cold, but neither of them cared.

Five

"So, I was thinking."

"Should I call a doctor?"

"Funny. No, seriously, Kurt. We should go on a date. We havent in like three months and I know how much you love that place on West 56th," Blaine pressed his cheek into Kurts bare chest as they cuddled.

"Mm, yeah, Patsys... Its really crowded in Decmber though; even reservations can take an hour." Kurt yawned, running his had though Blaines ungelled hair. "I need a shower." He wrinkled his nose at the sweat and dried come all over both of them.

"We should go somewhere for your birthday. Somewhere fancy." Blaine pulled the covers up around them when he noticed the shiver going through Kurts body.

"We should," Kurt agreed.

One of the boys thought about the box buried deep in their closet, in the bottom of the leather jacket he never wore.

"Im showering," Kurt said. "Care to join me?" He got up and, feeling Blaines eyes on his ass, wriggled his hips.

"Always," Blaine purred, getting up and following Kurt.

-

Their fancy dinner arrived, more than a week after Kurts 23rd birthday but romantic nonetheless. Theyd decided to go to a formal outdoor restaurant, jacket-and-tie dress code, candlelit tables and stars shining from above.

The night was sort of perfect. Blaine couldnt stop looking at Kurt, at his dazed expression as he gazed up at the starry sky, the moonlight illuminating his features and making him look that much more attractive

Blaine wrote something on a napkin.

Kurt pickied it up and read it, beaming when he got it. "You wanna know whats beautiful? Read the first word again."

"Youre way top corny. You have to stop this," Kurt scolded softly, glancing from the napkin to Blaine and back.

"I love you." Blaine smiled and kissed Kurts hand, widening his grin when Kurt blushed.

"I love you too," Kurt replied.

They had finished their dinner what had seemed like hours ago, content for now just to enjoy each others company and laugh and drink and talk.

"Blaine," Kurt said quietly.

"Yeah?" Blaine looked at Kurt, a happy smile gracing his features.

"I have something to say."

"O-Okay..." Blaines smile faded.

"Stand up." Blaine stood up and Kurt stood in front of him, looking down into hazel eyes.

"I love you. I think... in a way I always have. When I met you, I felt this sensation, drawing me to you, and I didnt have a name for it, but  I know it now as love. You have always been it for me, Blaine. I know I will never, ever find anyone else like you. Theyll always be too different from you.  Which is why..." Kurt took a deep breath and knelt down, smiling softly at Blaines shocked gaze. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Blaine Anderson. Will you marry me?"

Blaine stared down at Kurt, his mouth open, as Kurt opened a velvet black box hed taken out of his jacket. "Oui."

And the One

They kiss in the rain, water dripping down their faces and backs and necks in rivulets, but neither of them care. They are focused on each other, and only each other. Not even on the boat rocking underneath them, threatening to tip them into icy cold water.

"We should... we should go back in," Kurt shouts over the thrum of the rain on the ocean and the boat. He presses open-mouth kissed along Blaines jaw and growls when Blaine pulls away to help Kurt row the small boat back to the private land theyd rented for their honeymoon.

The boat hits the dock with a loud thump, and Kurt and Blaine clamber out toward dry land as fast as they can, not even bothering to tie the boat down very securly. They run toward the cozy cabin, laughing and stopping to sneak in the occasional kiss.

They stop, only feet away from the front door of the cabin, and everything goes still. The pitter-patter of the rain is mute to their ears, the cold of the storm fading slowly away until there there was only warmth.

And then there is mud. "You-- you pushed me!" he shouts incerdulously, trying to get back up but only succeeding in slipping once again. "Youll pay for this," he grumbles, finally standing up and stripping his shirt off, revealing smooth, perfect, pale skin to Blaine. He drops the forgotten shirt on the ground and runs toward Blaine, their bodies colliding in a way that sends them both toward the ground.

Kurt hears Blaine laugh loudly into his ear, sounding like the breath has been knocked out of him. Kurt stands up, offering his hand as a truce.

They limp inside together, the sound of the rain on the roof less so than its was before. Kurt pushes Blaine against the now closed door, and whispers, "I usually dont invite people to my room to do this, but theres something about you..."

Blaine pulls his face away from Kurts. "That sounded like... a pick-up line." He smiles.

Kurt feigns disgust.

"I know its not." Blaine switches their position so now Kurt is the one against the wall. "Of course not."

"Of course not," Kurt repeats, and caves. He crashes his lips firmly to his husbands, hearing a loud moan that neither of them know from whom it came.

Kurt slides his hands from Blaines shoulders to just above the waistband of his muddy pants, toying with his belt loop before tugging them as far down as they would go, helping Blaine kick them off his legs.

"Bed," Blaine gasps, and theyre so lucky the bed was so close to the door, otherwise neither of them would have been able to make it.

Blaine crawls on top of Kurt and slides his hands under his husbands undershirt, tugging it over his head and immediately latching this mouth over a nipple. Kurt twists his hand in Blaines hair.

"Just li-like that," he gasps as Blaine twirls his tongue. He switchs to the other nipple and gives it equal attention.

Kurt pulls his own pants down, too impatient to wait for Blaine. He is aching already, and theyve barely done anything. Blaine smiles at him almost shyly before tugging down Kurts boxers, and then he was wrapping his lips around the head of Kurts cock and holyfuckingshit sucking and dipping his tongue into the slit, tasting Kurt. Kurt thrusts his hips forward, immediately stilling to prevent from choking Blaine. "God, Im s--"

Blaine glances up with hooded eyes. "You dont have to be sorry." His voice is raspy, and oh my God, Kurt did that.

Blaine deep throats him once again, and this time Kurt doesnt stop when his hips involuntarily buck. He fucks Blaines face, thrusts becoming more sporadic when Blaine moans like a whore around Kurts dick. Hes so close, he can feel his heart beating in his ears, can feel himself falling over the edge, little by little.

And then, Blaine stops.

Kurt whimpers, wrapping his long fingers around the back of Blaines neck and bringing his head forward. He can hear Blaine chuckle and feel him rest his forehead on Kurts thigh.

"Oh, Im not done with you yet." Blaine smirks, that same cocky smirk he sported the day they met. Kurt groans in frustration. Blaine digs into their drawer and pulls out a condom and a small bottle of lube that theyre sure to run out of by the time their week in Venice is out. Blaine slicks up three fingers and Kurt spreads his legs.

"Mm-nope," Blaine mutters, turning around and giving Kurt, who has calmed a little, a perfect view of his rim as he spread his cheeks, circling around his hole with his middle finger. Kurt groans and fights back the urge to touch himself; he could definitely come from this. Blaine adds another finger, his mouth dropping open as he scissors himself open. "Kurt," he softly moans. "Harder."

Kurt gives up and wraps a hand around his cock just as Blaine adds a third and final finger, twisting and thrusting and fucking himself just right.

"Fuck me right now," Blaine mutters, straddling Kurts thighs.

Kurt slicks up his cock and pulls Blaine closer by his hips; he guides the dull head of his cock to Blaines rim, which is twitching softly from the lack of being filled. "You have such a dirty little hole," Kurt mutters into Blaines ear, filling him up with only the head of his cock. "I can feel it twitching around me, begging to be filled. You need me to fuck you, dont you goreous?" 

Blaines mouth drops open and he tilts his head back, trying to sink down further. "Yeah, I need you filling me up. Kurt, oh fuck, need it, need you." Kurt pulls him down the rest of the way and just holds him there, feeling his ass tense up at the sudden intrusion.

"Relax, babe," Kurt murmurs. "Ride me."

Blaine does as hes told, bouncing himself up and down first slowly and then faster. "Oh, yes," he hears Kurt moan.

He just needs to change the angle a little-- Oh. "Right fucking there," Blaine yells into the night, letting Kurt abuse his prostate over and over again, letting Kurt have him.

Blaine came without being touched. His orgasm ripped a hoarse scream out of him, but Kurt hasnt come yet so Blaine keeps going, clenching around his husband and fiercely kissing him. Blaine feels a sharp pain in his shoulder and he realizes Kurts biting him to supressing a yell. The thought of the bite mark on the place where his neck meets his shoulder turns Blaine on more than it should. 

"Damn," he tries to say, until he realizes he lost his voice. Great. He rests his head on Kurts chest while Kurt regains control of his breathing and presses a kiss to Blaines sweaty temple.

"Je taime," Kurt says into his hair.

"Je taime aussi," Blaine whispers back, and they drift off to sleep.