Kurt never knew that Blaine liked dubstep. Blaine’s musical tendencies were very deeply rooted in top forties, and when they strayed, they didn’t venture far from the alternative or acoustic styles.

So when Kurt walked in on Blaine cleaning their apartment to Skrillex, he didn’t exactly know what to think. He’d gotten in just before the beat drop, so Kurt was clueless as to what the wordless chanting was until a girl yelled “Yes, oh my god!” and the music turned into something dirty. He watched with amusement and shock as Blaine’s entire body fell into the beat, using the vacuum in a way that was far more obscene than it needed to be. Kurt felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end and a familiar heat start to pool in his belly.

Blaine was literally becoming the music that he was dancing to, and when there was a small pause, a silence, Blaine threw his head back and swallowed. Kurt saw sweat drip slowly down Blaine’s Adam’s apple and felt his own throat go entirely dry. The only thought on his mind after a long day at work was how he couldn’t wait to go lick the trail that the sweat had just created.

Kurt didn’t have very long to think about what he wanted, because then the song was changing, and Blaine literally gasped and shuddered as the music started. His entire body vibrated, and he froze for a moment before seeming to remind himself that he was cleaning, and continued to push the vacuum through the carpeting of their living room. Kurt shut the door quietly, though there was no way Blaine could hear him over the bass in the speakers, and shifted to get a better view of Blaine’s body.

What he was rewarded with, however, was something that Kurt would consider nothing less than pornographic. Sweat had practically soaked through the front of the white shirt Blaine was wearing, so Kurt could easily see the definition that meant years of soccer and track practice had definitely paid off. He felt his jaw drop, but couldn’t exactly bring himself to care, not when the song had changed from something hard and jarring to something smoother and Blaine was swaying to the beat, his hips rotating in time to the way the bass rumbled. He watched intently as Blaine’s hand ran through his hair, and Kurt was glad that it was cleaning day. Otherwise, the curls would have been hidden under product. Granted, he’d been able to convince Blaine that less was more, it was nice to see the curls untamed and wild and sexy, especially when they were matted with sweat.

Blaine made a noise that was audible over the vacuum, and Kurt snapped back to reality, realizing that Blaine was simply staring at him, watching the other man watch him. The vacuum turned off in an instant, and Blaine went to grab the remote for the speakers, but Kurt held up a hand, the only sound coming from his lips a strangled cry of ‘nglh,’ which Blaine assumed meant some form of the word no. Kurt swallowed and closed his eyes, finally managing to think semi-clearly when he wasn’t staring at the way that Blaine moved, and how that was so similar to the way he moved inside of him.

There was silence between the two for a long moment, with Kurt just breathing deeply as bass rocked their apartment, and Blaine broke it first. “Kurt.” It was just his name, but Blaine said it like the word in and of itself was the only thing he needed, more than he needed to breathe or to sing. He needed “Kurt.” There it was again, the sound of brokenness, almost need, and Kurt nodded slowly before he came over to where Blaine was standing.

“Hey,” he whispered into Blaine’s ear, licking the shell of it in a way that he wouldn’t have imagined when they’d first started dating. Blaine’s answering noise of aroused contentment made Kurt’s stomach flutter. It had been five years, and Blaine still found ways to make Kurt’s insides twist up. “I didn’t know you liked…this.” Kurt waved his hand in the air, and Blaine nodded.

“I didn’t, either. But Wes showed it to me senior year. I usually only listen to it when I’m cleaning—or when I’m high—but other than that, I kind of never listen to it anymore.” Kurt blinked, clearly taken aback. This was not how that sentence was supposed to end.

“What do you mean high? Blaine Anderson, tell me you do not smoke weed.” Blaine flushed and went to pause the music. Kurt didn’t stop him, instead choosing to take a step backward to sit on the couch. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Kurt had envisioned himself stripping Blaine of his shirt and riding him on the now-clean carpet and making them need an excuse to clean it again. Instead, they were probably going to have what was shaping up to be one of their long and involved relationship talks, which usually ended up with Blaine being right and Kurt being upset. Though the possibility of makeup sex didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Dubstep was, to its credit, music that was very easy to imagine having sex to.

Right. It was difficult to be mad at Blaine when all he could think about was coming hard as Blaine thrust into him as the stereo system screamed back at them the ‘yes, oh my god’ in agreement, that yes, this was so the right thing to be doing. And then it was that much easier to be upset, then, because they were talking instead of fucking, and Kurt’s frown became genuine.

“Kurt,” Blaine started, sitting down next to his boyfriend on the couch. Kurt didn’t move away, but he wasn’t encouraging any physical touching. Not yet. He sat, arms folded over his chest, and waited for Blaine’s explanation, which, for the sake of their sex life, had better have been the best damn explanation he’d ever sat through. “I went through a lot in high school before I transferred to Dalton, Kurt, and I need you to know that.”

“I know, Blaine. But what does this have to do with you smoking now?” The whine that was in his voice annoyed Kurt, but only because it let Blaine know that he didn’t want to be upset.

“I’m getting there, I promise.” Blaine leaned over to press a kiss to Kurt’s lips, smiling softly when Kurt whimpered and loosened his arms just a little bit, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be angry and kissing his boyfriend hello. When Blaine pulled back, Kurt’s frown was just a little less pronounced, and he was just a little more willing to hear the other out. But only a little. “In my freshman year, it was just after I’d come out, I was tired of getting pushed around and it hurt, and I realized that the only way that I was going to get over it was to ignore it, to figure out a way to not care about it.

“This guy, Adam, he introduced it to me first. At first, I did it in the morning before class so that I could get through the day without having to care about that fact that I would get shoved into shit every day, but I would start to sober up before Gym, and it would hurt again.” Kurt could see the tears forming in Blaine’s eyes, but the boy was so wrapped up in his own world that Kurt wasn’t sure that Blaine would even be able to tell once he’d started crying. Kurt hated and loved hearing about Blaine’s past. Sure, he had the pleasure of knowing, of getting on a more personal level with the man that he’d opened up to within hours of meeting, and that was great. But there was also the fact that Blaine had been messed with, worse than Kurt had been. He shuddered to think of how much worse it could have possibly been. “So I started to skip classes to go smoke, and that way when I got pushed into things, or when someone would ‘accidentally’ trip me or punch me in the chest, I could pretend like nothing could stop me because I was above it all.

“By the time I reached winter break, I was never sober anymore. My parents didn’t care, as long as I didn’t fuck up athletics or academics. They pretended they didn’t see the bruises. And then that night at the Sadie Hawkins Dance came, and I wanted to be sober for that.” He paused, then, jaw working but no words coming. “So I couldn’t pretend not to feel it. And…and…”

“Blaine,” Kurt whispered, tucking a sweaty lock behind his ear. Blaine started as he came back to the present. He looked at Kurt with wide, scared eyes, and Kurt felt his heart breaking for ever being upset. “You don’t have to finish your story. It’s okay.” The first tear slipped down Blaine’s cheek. “Oh, Blaine. Come here.” He opened his arms and Blaine was in them in an instant, curled up in Kurt’s lap and crying hard. The past was years behind them. Kurt felt his anger surge as he realized that yes, it had been years, but that the pain was still so clearly there.

After a few sniffles, Blaine was sitting up again, refusing to let himself fall into the breakdown he knew would happen if he let it. “I only do it when I have nightmares.” Kurt stiffened underneath Blaine, and he shifted so that he was looking Blaine in the eye. “It hasn’t happened recently, but when it does…it helps.”

“When was the last time?”

“Two months ago?” Blaine shifted in Kurt’s lap, feeling uncomfortable, and Kurt knew that this was a conversation best left for another time. Now was the time to bring back the mood Kurt had killed. He pressed a kiss to the underside of Blaine’s jaw and sighed. He remembered the day. Blaine had woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, and had pulled away from Kurt so violently that Kurt wasn’t sure if Blaine was still sleeping or not. Blaine had refused to talk to Kurt, simply telling him that he was going out for a walk. Alone. By the time Blaine had gotten back, it was nearly five in the morning, and Kurt was asleep on the couch, having tried to wait up for his boyfriend.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice was quiet and unsure, but he was looking at Blaine with eyes that held nothing but love and trust.

“Yes, Kurt?”

“I love you.” Blaine’s entire body relaxed and he kissed Kurt hard on the lips, shifting so that he was straddling his boyfriend. Calloused hands slipped into perfectly coiffed hair, pulling softly, and Kurt whimpered underneath him, opening his mouth to moan softly.

Blaine pulled away for only a moment, whispering “Thank you, thank you,” on top of Kurt’s lips before diving back in and pressing himself bodily against the other. Kurt shivered when Blaine’s nails dragged a little deeper against his scalp. While Kurt chastised Blaine about mussing his hair, there was something about it that unraveled him from his very center and frayed every single one of his nerve endings. Kurt gasped as Blaine began to pull, just hard enough to hurt in the best way, and he felt Blaine’s tongue in his mouth and responded eagerly.

They kissed hard for a moment, and then Kurt pulled back to drag his teeth across Blaine’s lower lip, then back to suck on it. Blaine’s eyelashes fluttered across his upper cheek, then his eyes closed completely, squeezed shut and simply feeling. Kurt took advantage of this to release Blaine’s lip and kiss up behind his ear. There was the semi-salty tang of sweat that went straight to Kurt’s groin, and Blaine made a devastatingly beautiful noise that could only be described as needy.

Blaine’s hips drove downward into Kurt’s, seeking friction between them, needing it. “Oh my God, Kurt. Please, please, oh my God.” Blaine’s lip was trembling, and he could hardly grip Kurt’s hair anymore. Instead, his hands were splayed out on Kurt’s chest, twitching whenever Kurt’s teeth dragged across that spot behind his ear. A smile curled onto Kurt’s features, and he stuck out his tongue to lick a flat stripe downward, pausing over Blaine’s Adam’s apple to suck up another mark there. Blaine pushed his hips down again and his jaw dropped as he swallowed, words leaving him. Kurt took pity on him this time, though, and lifted his hips to roll them in time with Blaine’s.

“I saw you dancing, Blaine. It was something else,” Kurt whispered, his hands slipping down the white t-shirt that Blaine had on and pulling it upward in a swift motion. His lips broke contact with dark skin for only a moment as the fabric came up and over Blaine’s head, and then they were back, latching onto his neck where Kurt had watched the sweat slide down earlier.

“D-dancing?” Blaine stuttered, his hips jerking as Kurt tongued a spot just to the left of his Adam’s apple.

“Oh, right,” Kurt corrected, his voice rumbling deep in his chest as a low chuckle combined with his words. “You call it cleaning. The way you were moving, though…” He trailed off into a moan, and Blaine had to move. He pulled away and stood, dropping to his knees in front of the couch before Kurt could object. Blaine’s hands pulled hard on the fly of Kurt’s pants, got flustered when his fingers couldn’t get the button, and settled instead for lording his height advantage (for once) over Kurt by standing and bending over to kiss him. Hard.

“I can dance for you, if you want,” he suggested breathlessly, his cheeks not even bothering to color. Blaine had long since learned that being shy when it came to Kurt was absolutely pointless. Kurt was a lot kinkier than he let on. Kurt’s eyes flickered to meet Blaine’s, and he nodded, reaching for the remote to un-pause the music. Just as his hand reached the plastic of the control, it was snatched from his hands. “I’m dancing; I get to pick the music.” Kurt simply rose an eyebrow. “Trust me.” Kurt nodded mutely, eyes unable to decide whether they wanted to stare at Blaine’s chest or his legs or his arms, or the way that his eyes looked like every emotion that—

And then the music was playing. It was the same song that Kurt had walked in on. The music seemed to start innocently enough, and so did Blaine’s dancing. At first it was just a gentle hip swaying with the beat, and Kurt watched with his mouth hanging open as Blaine ran his hands along his own body, appreciating it. And then the beat dropped. The guttural yell happened and Blaine was moving. Blaine hadn’t started out touching Kurt, but then he was dancing on top of him, using the couch to support his movements.

Kurt reached out to touch him, but Blaine took his hands and pinned them above his head. He leaned in just far enough for Kurt to feel the stubble on Blaine’s chin on his neck, but his lips refused to touch Kurt. Their only points of contact were Kurt’s wrists in Blaine’s hand and the harsh sometimes contact of their hips against each other. When the song started to slow down near its end, Blaine made to get off of Kurt’s lap and change the song, but Kurt was having none of that. In one swift motion, Kurt locked his leg behind Blaine’s knee and brought him falling back against Kurt.

The second their chests were together, Kurt’s lips were everywhere on Blaine that they could touch. First it was his lips, and Blaine kissed back with just as much enthusiasm, tongues colliding as the sound of panting came from underneath the bass of the next song. When Kurt tried to pull away, Blaine nipped at his lower lip and Kurt’s whole body shuddered. The whole time, Blaine’s hands were moving, searching for purchase until they could thread into Kurt’s hair again, holding the other man there and quickly taking control of the kiss.

When Kurt moaned Blaine’s name into his mouth, Blaine gasped and had to pull away. “God, Kurt. Please.”

“Please what?” Kurt’s voice was raspy and deep as he tilted Blaine’s head to the side to kiss and suck at the juncture between his neck and jaw, which never failed to leave Blaine a puddle, scrambling for purchase but arching forward for more, always more. Blaine opened his mouth to speak, to try to get something out, but shivered instead as Kurt’s tongue traced the mark that he’d made with a feather-light touch. “I can’t hear you, Blaine,” he teased, finally tracing the trail of sweat with his tongue and being rewarded with the still there taste of salt and Blaine.

“Fuck me. Kurt, fuck me, please. I need to feel you inside of me. I just want you to fuck me.” Blaine’s voice was trembling and low and absolutely wrecked in a way that Kurt was sure shouldn’t have been so attractive. With a smile, he rolled them once to the left, effectively switching their positions on the couch. With Blaine underneath him, Kurt took his time pulling the t-shirt off of him, then turned to his own clothing, first unbuttoning the three buttons of his collar, then pulling the shirt over his head.

“All you had to do was ask.” Kurt was sure that he’d never watched Blaine attempt to shimmy out of his pants faster in his entire life. But he was trying, and Kurt had to give him credit that he only bumped into Kurt’s arm once in the process, leaving himself bare, cock straining upward as he waited impatiently for his boyfriend to hurry up and get naked.

“I asked, Kurt. Hurry. Please.” God, and how could Kurt say no to something like that, something so needy and wonderful? He dove back down for another kiss, shoving his own pants down around his ankles and stroking his cock, once, twice, before he threw his hand out to the side table drawer and retrieving a small bottle of lube. After they’d started having sex in different parts of their apartment, Kurt and Blaine had learned that only keeping lube in the bedroom wasn’t a very good idea.

“Shh, shh,” Kurt cooed between kisses, pausing to kiss down his chest.

“Don’t tease,” Blaine warned, his voice tight and high. Kurt just smiled and opened the cap to the lube, pouring and warming it before he pushed two fingers against Blaine’s ass. Blaine reached out a hand to try to steady himself against Kurt's arm, his middle three fingers curling around to hold Kurt's bicep as he pushed down onto him. "God, Kurt. Yes.”

"Yes, right there? Do you like it like that?" Blaine just nodded and closed his eyes, letting himself be awash in the sensation. He inhaled, and there was a moment of silence where the music could be heard over the sound of the moans and sharp intake of breaths. The CD had restarted itself, and there was a softer sound playing, the bass still there but without as much presence as the other songs he'd been paying attention to. Kurt took a deep, steadying breath and rocked his fingers in and out of Blaine in time with the music, pausing only when he would rub against Blaine's prostate and he would make a keening sound that Kurt had come to describe as a mix between a grunt and a whine.

"Kurt, I want you in me. Fuck me." God, Kurt loved when Blaine was like this, when he was so compliant and so willing to beg underneath him. It made Kurt's head spin, especially when he got to top at the end of the day. Slowly, Kurt pulled his fingers from Blaine and poured more lube onto his hand before stroking it onto himself, taking the time to relish in the feeling of his hand on his cock. "Kurt," came the impatient whine, and Blaine ground his hips down into his boyfriend's thigh.

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt promised, lowering himself to position himself in front of Blaine again. As he pushed in slowly, the song changed, and the bass picked up to a level that was almost frantic. It almost startled Kurt, but he took the initiative and made slow, shallow thrusts until he was buried deep inside of the other man. "God, Blaine, you feel so good. Always so good."

"Yes, yes, Kurt. God, need you to move." Blaine panted as he tried to regain his composure, fingers scrambling for purchase now and rising to Kurt's back to pull him down closer. Kurt didn't move, though, always teasing, and Blaine made a huffing sound before he started to shift his hips, working them slowly in a circle, then faster. It took Kurt a moment to realize that Blaine was dancing again, dancing to the rhythm of the bass and the heavy beat with Kurt inside of him. Kurt inhaled and let out a staggering breath before he lost his willpower and he was moving, thrusting into Blaine with hard, deep strokes.

"Oh, God, Blaine."

"Harder. Harder, Kurt." Blaine was always vocal when he was bottoming, and it was something that Kurt wasn't sure that he'd ever get used to, per se, but there was no way that he was going to be complaining about it. He obliged happily, hardly hearing the sound of the bass in the speaker system over the blood rushing in his ears and the sound of skin coming together, over Blaine's sounds. "Yes, Wait. Right there, do that again."

"Do...what?" Kurt asked between thrusts, leaning down to plant a sloppy kiss against Blaine's neck. He stayed there a moment, enjoying the salty taste of sweat and sucking up one, two, and then three marks without shame before starting on the other side of his neck. "Can't hear you, Blaine," he reminded when the man was silenced, left to nothing but jerky motions and half sounds.

"Just. Don't stop. Please. Fuck me, Kurt."

"Right here, Blaine. I'm right here." The song changed, and Kurt picked up the pace of his thrusts, aiming for the hard and fast tempo that he knew Blaine appreciated. With one hand, he reached between the two of them and started to slowly stroke at Blaine's cock. Blaine gasped and inhaled, then inhaled again, and the music behind them rose until the beat dropped, and Blaine shuddered.

“Close, Kurt. Fuck…close.” Kurt nodded and picked up the speed of his thrusts and his strokes around the length of Blaine’s cock got shorter.

“Me too. God, Blaine. I—” Before he could finish his sentence, Blaine was coming over his hand, body tensing and blenching tight around him. His breath came sporadically and in harsh pants, and he continued to roll his hips through his orgasm, pushing Kurt closer and closer to the edge.

The music dropped again, the same track Kurt had walked in on. The voice screamed yes, and Kurt came, thrusts losing any direction but forward into Blaine’s heat, and he shuddered before unceremoniously wrapping himself around Blaine and kissing him hard. When they broke apart, Kurt pulled out of him, and Blaine sighed softly at the loss. “I love you,” Blaine whispered, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s jaw. The song had softened again, ending, and Kurt nodded, turning his head to capture Blaine’s lips in another kiss.

“I love you, too.” He was quiet for a moment, then started to chuckle. “You know we have to clean the couch again, right?”

“Just shut up and cuddle me for a while, okay?” Kurt shook his head and smiled, then rested his head on Blaine’s chest.

“Okay.”