Life in New York was just as perfect as Kurt had imagined

Living with Rachel was like a rollercoaster, but Kurt loved their partnership, loved having her familiar face to come home to, even when she was in her Diva mode. Classes at NYU were amazing, and Kurt ended up being glad he didn't get into NYADA. NYU's Music Theatre Program was easily as good as theirs, and he didn't have to deal with the disturbingly competitive spirit of NYADA that was driving Rachel crazy. His classmates were nice, his professors were inspiring, and he was doing what he loved. And on top of all that: Nobody spared his clothes a second glance in the street, nobody avoided contact with him in the subway, nobody threw iced beverages in his face and nobody screamed insults in his face.

Overall, life was amazing.

The only thing that kept on bringing Kurt down was that, even though the dating pool for him here was almost as big as Rachel's, he was still just as single as he'd been in Lima. Rachel went on dates every now and then, and there had been Brody's particularly important stunt last year, so Kurt suspected that the only thing keeping her technically single was her not-so-over-it-after-all love for Finn.

And Kurt was happy for her, really, he was. He just… He just really wished he had a chance at it too.

He saw good-looking guys all the time, some of them even smiled at him, and he'd made several friends – gay friends, wow – at NYU, but… There was never a click. And Kurt decided that, hell, he'd waited this long for a shot at real love, he wasn't going to throw it all away now. Or at least that's what he told himself when he refused to go on dates with uninteresting boys from one of his classes.

So, here he is now, still single, with no kisses that counted, and as much of a baby penguin as he was in High School.

Kurt shook his head as he put the last book he needed for the day in his bag. It was useless to think about this stuff. He had time. He was still in college. He had his whole life.

He'd just grabbed his bag and was making to leave the loft when Rachel came out from behind her curtain.

“Kurt, Santana just called, she has already found a roommate, he-“

The three of them had come to the conclusion that the loft was not big enough for them (and their personalities) so Santana had made a bid on the loft right underneath theirs and set on finding a roommate, which in New York isn't really that difficult.

“That's great Rachel, but I really need to leave.”

“But Kurt! He-“

Whatever Rachel was about to say was muffled by the sound of their door shutting down, and Kurt ran down the stairs. He was going to be so late.

* * *

Kurt could never decide on what his type was (to be far, he spent a long time dealing with the fact that his general type was someone with a penis, to start with). Then, he started to consider that his type were cute, intellectual boys. But that possibility went down the drain with his crush on Finn, cause well. And then April had showed him all those Muscle magazines and he couldn't say he had been unaffected. So Kurt settled (on his mind, of course, he wasn't exactly talking about this with anyone) that his type were nice boys. Not necessarily smart nor burly or overly handsome, but nice.

And then, as he sat in his first class of Music in the Romantic Period, Kurt suddenly knew exactly what his type was.

His type had a face and gorgeous hazel eyes and a leather jacket and an amazing body and was walking in his direction oh my God.

The class really wasn't so full that people had to sit by strangers, but that didn't seem to faze the unknown boy as he sauntered himself to the spot right next to Kurt and asked, pointing at the empty chair, smirk firmly set in place, “Is this seat taken, Beautiful?”

The guy actually waited for Kurt, who couldn't take his eyes away from him, even though he could feel himself blushing to the root of his hair, to weakly nod, before he sat down, immediately setting his elbow on the arm seat they shared.

Kurt turned to the front of the classroom, where his teacher, a lady that looked like she herself had come out straight of the Romantic Period, was starting the lecture. But it's not like he could pay attention to a word she was saying. His heartbeat was still sounding loud in his ears – couldn't the whole class hear it?! – and the guy wasn't quite done talking yet.

“So, are you going to tell me your name or do I have to keep calling you Beautiful? Wouldn't mind either way. But now that I've seen you up close, maybe I'll stick to Pretty Eyes.”

Kurt was pretty sure some of his organs were going to shut down from lack of blood, since all of it seemed to have rushed to his face.

“Shy much? That's okay, I don't mind making the first move. My name's Blaine.”

Kurt took a deep breath, collecting all the courage he had, and said, without taking his eyes off of the teacher, “Kurt”.

“Kurt”, the boy, Blaine, repeated, apparently testing the sound on his mouth, and wow, didn't it sound perfect, the slight roughness in the K and the way his voice curled around the r. That's not creepy at all Kurt. “Nice name. Easy to moan.”, Kurt didn't even have time to process what he'd just said before he went ahead and exemplified, moaning his name brokenly, “Kuurt.”

And then Kurt got dizzy, cause all the blood that had rushed to his head rushed downwards in a second. If he'd thought his name sounded good in Blaine's mouth before, now, well.

“T-That's really inappropriate.”, Kurt said, still looking at the teacher, cause as hot as this guy may be, Kurt was light years away from being okay with strangers moaning his name, oh my god, he moaned my name.

“That's a matter of perspective. I mean, I wouldn't think such inappropriate things if you weren't so inappropriately hot.”, Blaine shot back, a big grin on his face and his eyes shining with mischief.

Kurt sputtered indignantly. Was this guy for real? And why didn't get Kurt just get up and find another seat?

He turned his head around to give this guy a piece of his mind, but all complaints flew out of his mind as he settled his eyes on Blaine's face.

Because showing behind his lips – and wow, he had really really nice lips -, stuck between his teeth, was a tongue piercing. A fucking tongue piercing.

Oh sweet merciful lord.

Blaine was playing with it, moving it around and clicking it against his teeth, and Kurt wondered how good that piece of metal would feel against his tongue, on his chest, on his-

Blaine's smirk was growing impossibly bigger and, the bastard, he knew exactly what he was doing didn't he?

And that's what brought Kurt back to reality. This guy was a jerk; a really hot jerk, true, but a jerk nonetheless, and he only wanted into his pants. If even that. Maybe he just wanted to get a rise out of Kurt. Or, who knows, maybe he was mocking him.

Either way, Kurt got himself under control, turned straight in his s eat and straightened his back, head held high and full attention on the lecture. Blaine's brow furrowed as he saw Kurt's bright shy eyes turn to steel, but he shrugged it off. He wouldn't give up without a fight.

* * *

An hour later, Kurt was pretty sure Blaine – the boy, there's no reason to know his name – had given up.

He had been apparently paying attention to the class, even writing down some notes, and hadn't looked at Kurt again. So he'd been right then, Blaine had only been mocking him.

As a small paper fell on the page of the book he was writing on, Kurt figured he'd jumped to conclusions way too soon.

Unable to resist to the curiousness curling in his belly – cause that's what it was, just curiousness – Kurt unfurled the paper, reading what was written there in a messy but pretty handwriting.
You look really good when you're focused, Kurt.

It wasn't even the worst thing Blaine had told him, but Kurt still blushed, crumbling the paper in his hands and throwing it back at the smirking boy by his side.

“It's true. Are you sure you don't want to focus on me sometime later?”

And there we go, back on the inappropriate comments train.

“I don't see how that would help me get my degree.”, Kurt answered, happy he was able to do more than blush in silence this time around.

Blaine laughed loudly, holding a hand up in apology when the teacher shot him an annoyed glance, “Well, it's easier to study when you're happy, hormones and shit, and I think I could make you pretty happy.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Well, if you don't let me try you'll never know.”

Kurt was saved from thinking about that particular perspective by the sound of all his classmates standing up to leave. Assuming the teacher had dismissed the class – had it really already been 2 hours? – Kurt haphazardly threw his things in his bag and made to leave the class, having to embarrassingly walk through the small space between Blaine's legs and the seat in front of him, since the boy didn't seem like he was about to get up.

Just as Kurt got to the end of the row of seats and started to go down the stairs, he heard Blaine's sharp intake of breath and mumbled “Damn”, and yeah, his ass did look particularly amazing in those jeans.

* * *

When Kurt got to the subway station later that day and saw Blaine there, he didn't think much of it. Most of the students got on the subway after classes.

When he got in the same train as him, Kurt shrugged it off, knowing most of its stations were in habitation zones.

Even when they got past the stations in which most people got off, Kurt still didn't worry about it.

But when Blaine got off on the same station as him, Kurt couldn't ignore the obvious any longer.

“Why are you following me?”, Kurt shouted, walking hurriedly to get to Blaine.

Blaine looked back at him, grinning, but kept on walking, hands inside his black leather jacket' pockets, “I'm not following you. If I were I'd be walking behind you and enjoying the majestic view you are from that point of view.”

As he got up to Blaine, walking by his side, Kurt was thankful that he could blame his red cheeks on the train ride. He was pretty sure he'd blushed more on that day because of Blaine than in the rest of his life.

“Oh… Great coincidence then, I guess.”

Blaine's smirk grew with fond amusement, but he didn't say anything else as they kept on walking. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but Kurt was too fidgety to enjoy it.

“What are you majoring in?”

Kurt looked at Blaine as he asked the question, watching as his eyebrows rose in quiet surprise, and his smirk settled on a pleased grin.

“Music Theory and Composition.”

This time Kurt was the surprised one. Somehow the fact that Blaine had to be some kind of music student hadn't occurred to him even though the boy had been in his Music Literature class. And even if it had, he would have never guessed him as a Composition student. “What instrument do you play?”, he asked. Not that I'm interested. No. Not at all. Just trying to keep a conversation, that's all.

Blaine's smirk returned, as he clearly saw right through him. “Piano is my main instrument, but I play some guitar too.”

Kurt's brain immediately worked on conjuring images of Blaine playing the piano, a focused look on his face, his eyelashes batting against his cheeks, his lower lip bit in concentration. Other parts of him, though, were more interested in knowing just how calloused had the guitar made Blaine's fingers.

“You're a Music Theatre major, right?”

He was shook out of his thoughts by Blaine's question, looking at the boy in complete shock.

“How do you know that?!”, he snapped, “Have you been tracking me, how-“

He snapped his mouth shut as Blaine started laughing loudly, going as far as clutching his stomach as he slowed his step. Come on, it wasn't that funny.

“Oh my god Kurt, you're unbelievable”. At the flash of hurt in Kurt's eyes, Blaine backpedaled, “Hey, no, calm down Beautiful, I just meant you always jump to the worst conclusions”. He interrupted his explanation as he reached into his backpack and took a lollipop out of a pocket, putting it in his mouth and talking around it, “I was just guessing, but it really wasn't that difficult. You gotta know you scream “Music Theatre”, really loudly and perfectly on key. Again, not in a bad way.”

Blaine's explanation was enough to calm Kurt's nerves, but it's not like he actually heard it carefully, since he was too mesmerized by the sight of Blaine's cheeks hollowing out around the lollipop and his tongue coming out to lick his lips, his piercing teasingly visible.

Kurt was sufficiently distracted so he didn't notice that Blaine was still rummaging around his backpack, until he took a key chain out and stopped in front of a building.

A very, very familiar building.

As Kurt remember Rachel's words from that morning - “Kurt, Santana just called, she has already found a roommate, he-“ – he couldn't decide whether fate was playing a trick on him or had actually decided to be good for him this once.

“You're Santana's new roommate”, he declared, everything making too much sense and none at all, all at once. Blaine nodded as he successfully opened the door, holding it open for Kurt, - who positively swooned – before closing it and taking his lollipop out of his mouth to ask, “You know her?”, not looking surprised.

“Yes”, Kurt confirmed as they both headed to the stairs – Kurt had been happy that there was no lift at first, as it was a opportunity to exercise, but he soon figured that after a day of classes and walking all the way from the subway station, it was a nightmare to get to the 5th floor –, “Me and Rachel, that's my roommate, both went to high school with her. She lived with us before moving to her loft. Or your loft, I guess.”

Blaine hummed, “Great, that means you can scoop me some dirt on her”.

“If you really think I would-“

“Relax, Hummel. ‘Just wanted out of doing the dishes.”, Blaine said, the same entertained smile from when Kurt had overreacted before on his face.

They had already gotten to the 4th floor, and Kurt just stood there looking at Blaine as he opened the door to Santana's loft – the one he'd helped decorating, the one he'd been to several times in the past few weeks, the one where he couldn't even imagine going in right now.

“What? Are you going to come in and help me christen my bed?”

And there was the blush again.

“Goodbye Blaine, I guess I'll see you around”, he said as politely as possible as he started up the stairs again.

Blaine didn't say anything until Kurt had reached his floor. Just as he opened up the door, he heard Blaine shout, “I'm so thanking Santana for picking the loft below yours!”

* * *

Of course “seeing him around” isn't an accurate description of what followed.

Rachel immediately attacked him when he got home, saying that Santana had told her Blaine was gay and a hot piece of ass – “Were her exact words, Kurt!” – and went to NYU and then screeching when Kurt told her that, yes, he'd met him, yes, he was really attractive, and yes, he was obscene and rude and way out of line.

He didn't tell her he was also kind of nice and had held the door open for him. That would just be letting her win.

Then Santana had showed up after dinner, a smug look on her face as she stole a bite from his apple pie, “Oompa Loompa downstairs said that instead of “roomy” I should have put “grants perfect view of the Best Ass In NY” in the loft ad”, she shrugged, “I was actually disappointed when he said he was gay cause I woulds totally make an exception in my only double-X chromosome people inside the bedroom rule, but I guess I'll feel better if my lady-boner frustration makes Gay Snow White here get some dick.”

The next morning, Blaine comes out of his apartment just as Rachel and Kurt exit theirs.

“Kurt!”, Rachel murmurs excitedly, practically dragging him down the stairs.

Blaine looks up as he hears them coming down the stairs. He sees Rachel and then looks at Kurt, the already familiar smirk appearing on his face and he looked back at Rachel just as she approached him.

“Hello, Blaine. My name's Rachel Berry, and I am a NYADA student and future Broadway star, as I'm sure Santana has already informed you. Oh!”, she remembered excitedly, pulling at Kurt's coat sleeve, “I'm also Kurt's best friend. I believe you've became acquainted already?”

Kurt was going to kill Rachel. Blaine's smirk grew impossible wider, a teasing, pleased glint shining in his hazel eyes as they settled on Kurt, challenging, “Oh yeah, we got ourselves plenty acquainted with each other yesterday. Didn't we Kurt?”

Kurt smiled back at him with clearly fake sweetness, “Yes we did. “

Blaine extended his arm and bowed slightly, making a show of letting them go first. Rachel squealed delightedly and started dragging Kurt again.

Kurt looked back at Blaine with squinted eyes, clearly letting him know he knew chivalry wasn't the reason he wanted to go behind them.

Of course Blaine didn't even try to look sorry.

* * *

Their walk to the subway station was… Interesting, to say the least.

Blaine was charming the pants off Rachel, and only not literally because he wasn't interested, while Kurt silently fumed besides them, sending Blaine murderous glances and receiving small pinches in the arm from Rachel in return.

When they finally got there and Rachel had to take the train to NYADA, she kissed Blaine's cheek and smiled at him sweetly before hugging Kurt briefly and ordered quietly in his ear, “Be nice!”, before turning around and waving at them as she backed away, “Goodbye Blaine! It was a pleasure to meet you!”

“You too!”, Blaine hollered back, before turning to Kurt, “She's something else isn't she? When the time comes I think we should keep it to my place, not sure I could handle her screams if she walked in on us.”

As Kurt looked back at him, he could clearly see the teasing glint in his eyes, and he knew Blaine was trying to get a rise out of him at any cost. Just like his bullies back home. He took a deep breath and looked Blaine in the eye, and the boy almost took a step back seeing the intensity in his eyes.

“Look Blaine”, he said, “I honestly don't know what you're trying to accomplish here, but I refuse to let you play me just because you think it's fun. This bad boy persona you've got going on might work on the guys you pick up at night clubs, but I like myself a little bit too much to fall for it. I matter a little bit too much.”

Blaine just stood there looking at him for a few seconds, clearly caught off guard, before he seemed to gather his thoughts. “That's not- I'm sorry if that's how it feels to you, Kurt. I really thought-“, he shook his head, “-but look, don't worry, really, I'll leave you alone if that's what you want-“, he rushed out, already trying to walk in the train's direction.

Kurt almost couldn't believe he was backing off that easily, and he felt awful because, yes, sure, Blaine was rude and inconvenient, but he was not a bad guy. “Hey”, he said, hesitating before reaching out and touching Blaine's leather clad arm, “maybe you can cut down on the sexhints-“ he rushed out, and Blaine couldn't help but chuckle, “- and we could, you know, be friends?”, he finished, feeling really lame cause there was no reason for him to think Blaine would want to be friends with him – maybe with his ass though.

But Blaine smiled, sadness suddenly forgotten, head tilted to the side and arms casually crossed over his chest as he looked at Kurt fondly, “I guess I could do that”, he answered, shrugging, that teasing glint still present in his eyes, “As long as I still can compliment your ass from time to time.”

Kurt laughed and nodded before starting to walk in the direction of their train. Because, hell, crude or not, it did feel good to be flattered.

Blaine settled into step by his side, “So, what's your favorite musical?”

* * *

From then on, things developed pretty effortlessly.

They walked to and from NYU together, talking about music or movies or politics or something else, they sat side by side on the class they shared, sometimes had lunch together, spent time with Rachel and Santana, and Blaine still always waited to see Kurt going up the stairs to his own apartme nt.

Kurt found himself having to remember the reasons why Blaine was most definitely, absolutely not dating material more and more often. Because the fact that the boy had a tendency to say really inappropriate things at really inappropriate times seemed to lose its importance when he shared Kurt's peculiar opinion on something (or disagreed in an interesting manner), or laughed at his pop culture references, or held the door open for him, or when he remembered Kurt's coffee order.

Or when Kurt walked in into his and Santana's apartment to ask for a lemon and found a shirtless, sweaty Blaine pounding his punching bad.

Blaine caught his eye and smirked, continuing to punch his bag in earnest, and Santana looked like the cat that got the fish as he searched for the lemon and left with a squeaked “thanks”.

That night, Kurt had to mentally run the list of all the Vogue covers from last years to keep himself from thinking about the picture of half-naked Blaine that seemed to have been burnt onto his brain and fall asleep. But his mind betrayed him and Kurt woke up in a mess of humid sheets a few hours later, images of a naked, gorgeous, sweaty Blaine on top of him, kissing him, touching him, inside him, whispering in his ear about how beautiful he looked, flooding his brain as he guiltily sneaked his hand inside his pajama pants and finished himself off.

The next day, Kurt barely could look Blaine in the eye, but he kept on smiling knowingly like he just knew.

Kurt was so screwed.

* * *

Their friendship got a new boost when Kurt was forced to take extreme measures after his Music Theory teacher told him “I just can't believe you wish to pursue a career in Music without knowing the basics of any instrument, Mr. Hummel. What if you don't have the time to find someone to run scales for you to practice? What if you need to change a song's tone at the last minute? You should think about it.”

Of course Kurt knew he had stated it as an advice, but meant it as a warning.

So when he got home that Friday night and found a note from Rachel saying she and Santana had gone to Callbacks, he had a quick dinner and hurried downstairs to knock on Blaine's door.

Only after he knocked did a thousand thoughts run through his mind – maybe he isn't home, maybe he's busy, maybe he has someone with him, oh my god maybe he is having-

“Comin'!”

And then the door was opening to a relaxed looking Blaine, in sweats and a NYU t-shirt, an ice cream stick sticking out of his mouth.

“Kurt!”, he said, taking the stick out of his mouth to smile and opening the door further, “If the reason why you were reticent was that the girls were around, you could have told me and I'd gotten rid of them long ago!”, he joked.

Kurt blushed a little as he passed Blaine and entered the loft, but he had already grown used to the boy's innuendos, and no longer felt uneasy about them.

“Shut up Blaine, I wouldn't be here alone with you if I wasn't desperate.”, he shot back, and pointedly ignored the way one of Blaine's eyebrows lifted, “My Music Theory teacher implied that I was to learn to play the basics of some instrument. Like, for yesterday. So-“

“-So you came to me. Very well, Mr. Hummel, I'm willing to teach you my ways.”

He walked in the direction of the keyboard he had set up near the window and motioned for Kurt to follow him. As they sat down on the stool, Kurt noticed the way Blaine treated the instrument, with soft touches and care, like a treasured possession.

“Just curious though, how do you plan to pay for these lessons? Cause I sure as hell accept-aw!”, Kurt slapped him in the arm, of course he had to ruin that image, “So this key is a C, and you count up from here, D, E, F-“

* * *

It was like the sexual tension between them just cracked in the air sometimes.

They'd look at each other and suddenly the room got 20 degrees hotter. Blaine always got this really intense look on his face, and Kurt could feel every point of contact between his skin and his clothes, the way his tongue suddenly felt heavy on his mouth. But he looked away every time.

Because he knew it wasn't harmless. They may be friend now – maybe even best friends – but Kurt knows Blaine's attracted to him, and that he'd be glad to act on that the moment Kurt gave him the green light.

But Kurt just couldn't.

Of course he was madly attracted to Blaine too – and he knew the other boy knew that – and, now that he had gotten to know him, he knew Blaine wasn't the mocking, heartless idiot he initially though, but Kurt was just so so scared.

Because this was not the scenario he had imagined. He had imagined a cute boy from one of his classes, but one that gently approached him and asked him out for coffee. He imagined romantic dates and night scrolls and first kisses in porches. And, even though he knew he most likely wasn't going to get the mutually awkward fumbling first steps into intimacy that his friends got to have in high school, he also wasn't planning on a rushed, one-time thing first time.

And he couldn't see how he could possibly get any of that from Blaine.

Blaine who basically stated that he'd like to have sex with him within 5 minutes of their meeting. Blaine who Kurt was pretty sure had no first times left to share. Blaine who was direct and rude and impatient, and who Kurt most definitely could not imagine having a candle-lit dinner.

And Kurt wasn't sure he was willing to give all that up.

So he looked away and he cleared his throat, rapidly changing the subject, always missing Blaine's disappointed look, and pointedly ignoring Rachel and Santana's confused and disapproving stares when they were in the room.

But the rubber band was stretching, and it was bound to burst.

* * *

It was made out to be a terrible day right from the start.

He woke up with Rachel screaming cause there was no more hot water left and had to take a cold shower. Only when he got out of the bathroom did he realize he'd woke up with Rachel cause his alarm clock hadn't gone off and he was already late. He ran out without having breakfast, thankful that at least he didn't have the same schedule as Blaine that day and the boy hadn't been waiting for him. He got to school in the middle of his first class to find out that his teacher had made a surprise test that he wouldn't be able to do later - “It was a surprise test, Mr. Hummel, don't you think allowing you to do it later would defy its purpose?”. He got the worst dance partner in Choreography Methods and she kept on stepping on his foot, and all that threw him off and left him uninspired and mediocre, at best, for his Singing class.

He met Blaine so they could go home together, and it only took one look at him for Blaine to pull him into a hug. Kurt could feel some tears forming and threatening to fall, a rush of emotions released from finally being able to let go of the day's stress, feeling safe and comforted in Blaine's arms. When they separated and started walking, Kurt was sure it was obvious how touched he was by the gesture, since he was really in no state to hide it, and Blaine immediately tried to lighten the mood by saying, “I can always make you feel better once we get home, if you want”, winking at him for good measure.

Turned out it was a bad idea to even mention that possibility, because it happened to be one of those days when everyone freaking decides to take the train, and Kurt and Blaine have to make the whole ride squeezed together, Kurt's back to the train' wall and Blaine in front of him, trying to keep Kurt from the crowd, aware of how uncomfortable Kurt got when people touched him. But Kurt wasn't so sure if he preferred this: trying so hard to resist Blaine when he was almost completely pressed against him, his comments on the tall guy by their left's terrible shirt choice whispered on his ear, making Kurt shiver and push against the wall so he wouldn't push forward into Blaine chest.

Once they get off the train, Kurt tries not to let himself get disappointed by the loss of Blaine's touch and body heat, especially because it really got cold while they were inside, and Kurt had forgotten to bring a jacket with him in the morning rush. Apparently the same thing had happened to Blaine, since he apologized for not having a coat to lend him, and Kurt really didn't need any more reasons to want to hug Blaine and cry on his shoulder.

Kurt was brought from his misery by a drop on his nose, “You've gotta be fucking kidding me”, he groaned as it started raining in earnest, and they both started running the final distance to their building. Once inside, Kurt was shivering and Blaine was already sneezing, so they quickly went up the stairs and, for what Kurt was pretty sure was the first time, Blaine immediately opened the door to his flat. When Kurt was in the middle of the final flight of stairs, he started rummaging his bag for his keys.

And couldn't find them.

“Shit”, he remembered taking them off his bag to put on the new key chain Blaine had gotten him – “C'mon Kurt, it's a warbler with a bowtie! Don't tell me that shit isn't adorable!” – and hadn't put them in the bag again.

Groaning, Kurt turned around to knock on Blaine's door, since Rachel would still take a while to get home and he needed a shower. Like, now.

Blaine let him in, making a half-hearted comment about excuses to use his shower, but even he didn't seem to be up to joking, so he just got Kurt a towel and pointed him to the bathroom.

If you asked Kurt why he rushed to the shower, he'd say it was because he was freezing and he had to be fast since Blaine was being nice enough to let him go first. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that Blaine was taking his shirt off to dry himself. Of course not.

* * *

When Kurt got out of the shower, Blaine was behind his curtain, in his room, and told him he had set out some clothes for him on Santana's bed.

Kurt put on the sweatpants and the t-shirt and dried his hair, before going to the kitchen to fix them something warm to drink, maybe hot chocolate, he decided.

He was taking two mugs off the cupboard when he heard rustling and turned to see Blaine walking into the kitchen.

“You made hot chocolate? You're my absolute favorite.”

But Kurt didn't really register his words, because Blaine was wearing a tight white t-shirt, droplets falling from his wet, wild, curly hair making it almost see-through and low-slung sweatpants that hugged his round ass and really, did Blaine think his ass was amazing?

He had to put down the mugs as an overwhelming urge to bury his fingers in Blaine's hair and pull it so he'd stretch his neck and Kurt could lick every drop of water off his skin surged through him, making him shiver.

When he looked up, Blaine was watching him, the dark look in his eyes telling Kurt that he'd been able to tell exactly what he was thinking.

Way too tired to fight it, Kurt let himself look at Blaine, ignored the way his face heated up, and dragged his eyes down to Blaine's full lips and down the curve of his neck before coming back to his eyes, now warm and dark and dangerous. Blaine went around the table and was beside him in a flash, never taking his eyes off of him. Kurt turned to him and took a step back, his lower back hitting the kitchen countertop and his fingers gripping the edge of it too tightly.

“Kurt”, it was almost a growl, as Blaine came up to him, his arms bracketing him as his hands pressed on the cabinets above them. His face was inches away from Kurt's, and he could see how his eyes flashed dangerously, “Kurt, tell me to stop.”

Kurt just took a shuddering breath and wet his lips before whispering “Please”.

Blaine's lips are on his the next second, soft and dry, the perfect pressure, and Kurt has a slightly delirious moment when he thinks wow, so that's what it's like, before he's returning the pressure. His heartbeat and the wet slide of their lips are too loud in the otherwise silent loft, and Kurt feels surrounded by the scent of raspberry and leather and Blaine. Blaine gently tugs his bottom lip with his own, licking it teasingly, and Kurt opens his mouth before he can even think about it, a high moan escaping him as Blaine's tongue meets his own, his tongue piercing' a cold slide on Kurt's burning skin. He throws his arms around Blaine's neck, finally giving in and burying his fingers in his curls, tugging on them experimentally and being rewarded with a groan, Blaine's hands tightening around his waist and pulling him closer, keeping them pressed together completely. Kurt was quickly losing his grasp on reality, Blaine's tongue performing fucking magic on his mouth was sending constant shocks of pleasure down his spine, he felt feverish and short of breath. Kurt threw his head back and gasped for air, breaking the kiss and giving Blaine the opportunity to follow down the line of his neck with wet kisses, his lips exploring until Kurt gasps out “Blaine” and he latches onto that spot, nipping and licking, until Kurt's babbling and is sure to have a hickey. He trails his lips up to Kurt's ear, biting slowly on his lobe before whispering, “God Kurt, you're so hot, wanted to do this for so long”, and Kurt has really had enough of Blaine's lips not on his, so he pulls on his hair and crashes their mouths together, both their moans muffled by their slotted lips. Feeling brave, Kurt touches his tongue to Blaine's lips, acutely aware that he has no idea what he's doing, but every cell in his body is burning and yearning for more of this boy's taste. Blaine opens his mouth and lets him explore gently, bringing a hand up to his neck and angling his head better. Kurt feels Blaine's lashes tickling his cheekbone and growls, that little touch apparently all he needed to pull Blaine's head even closer to his, kissing him passionate and relentlessly, inexperience long forgotten. And Blaine just loses it, his already fragile grip on self-control shattered, pushing Kurt against the countertop harder, taking control of the kiss, and his hips moved of their own volition, rolling against Kurt's and rubbing their bulges together. Blaine broke the kiss then, moaning Kurt's name brokenly against his neck.

Kurt freezes.

It's like someone dumped a bucket of iced water down his head. The heat that was making him feel more alive than ever moments before is now burning him, the press of Blaine's hard dick against his thigh a sharp reminder that he's having he's first make out session ever. With Blaine. Blaine who had moaned his name just like that almost three months ago, right when they had met.

He had just been working up to this all along hadn't he? Everything, every laugh, every comfortable walk, every piano lesson, all of it a means to an end, a way to fulfill his prediction from all those months ago.

This is what he'd wanted all along. And Kurt had just fallen into the trap.

He had to get out of there. Fast. Before the tears started to fall.

He pushed Blaine off of him violently, sending the other boy against the sink, and tried to flee, but the sudden rush of pain had sent some of Blaine's blood back to his brain, and he reacted fast enough to grip his arm and stop him.

“What the hell Kurt?!”

Kurt looked at him, trying with everything to hold his tears just for a little longer, missing the confusion and slight hurt on Blaine's eyes in his anger, “What the hell Kurt?!”, he mimicked, “What?! Didn't you already get what you wanted? Wasn't this your plan all along? To make me fall for your act? The only thing you did was change the act! You became exactly who I wanted you to be, and I was stupid enough to fall for it. Congratulations, you'd have been a great addiction to the Acting class!”, he spat out, his voice dripping with venom, before ripping his arm out of Blaine's now pliant hold and scurrying in the direction of the door.

But just as he got there the door was opened and Santana walked it, her greeting dying in her throat as Kurt stomped past her and slammed the door in her face.

“-llo? What got into Hummel?”, she looked him up and down, clearly noticing the still present but fading bulge on his pants, like his swollen lips and mess of hair didn't make what had just been happening clear enough, “Did he have to go change his pants? He didn't have to run just ‘cause I got here, I'd actually like to throw him a de-virgining party-“, she started, but shut up when she saw the angry, betrayed look on Blaine's face, and got out of the way when he went in the direction of his punching bag.

Realizing that, whatever had happened, had been very serious, Santana looked around the loft trying to understand. There was a pile of wet clothing that clearly didn't belong to her or Blaine in the dirty clothes' basket, a pot of what smelled to be hot chocolate in the coffee machine, and two discarded mugs on top of the countertop. They had clearly been caught in the rain that she had avoided by entering a small shop, and had come here to warm up. Somewhere along the way they had fallen into each other, and then Kurt ran out and Blaine is left throwing it out on the punching bag.

She had been waiting for the ball to drop, but this definitely wasn't what she had hoped for.

She gave Blaine his space, having some of the untouched hot chocolate and cleaning the kitchen before taking off her makeup and shoes. Carefully, she approached Blaine – not because she was scared of him, on the contrary, she had come to think of him as a brother in the last couple months, and they would never hurt each other; but exactly because of that, ‘cause she didn't want to make things worse and hurt him more -, who was still going strong on the punching bag, and sat down on the closest chair.

“Blaine?”, she called.

He kept on punching, but the stiffening in his shoulders told her he was listening.

“C'mon Blaine, it's okay, tell me what happened.”, she gently coaxed.

Blaine's movements got stronger, more erratic, the punching bag not having the time to return to its vertical position before being struck again, “What – always – happens-”, he began to answer between punches, the words said with a disconcerting acceptance, “- Kurt”, the strongest punch so far, “-People – assume – the worst – of me – and don't – even – give – me – a – chance!”. Blaine stopped then, taking a moment to breathe and to take off his shirt and clean his forehead with it, before starting again.

But Santana had heard enough. She knew exactly what had happened.

And she was pissed.

* * *

“Hummel, you ginormous dick, care to tell me why my boy is hitting his punching bag like it killed his whole family and trying not to cry until we all drown?!”, Santana demanded as she stormed into Kurt and Rachel's apartment.

Kurt looked up at her from the blanket cocoon he was rolled in on the couch, an almost finished piece of cheesecake on his lap.

“Santana, please refrain from disturbing Kurt right now, he is really upset and clearly doesn't need any added distress”, Rachel replied bossily as she left the kitchen space and sat down next to Kurt, setting two mugs of milk on the center table.

“He wouldn't be distressed”, Santana almost spat out, “If he wasn't an insensitive idiot who jumps to conclusion like an Olympic diver!”

Kurt was still looking at her, his eyes puffy from crying, and she could clearly see the shift as he got into Bitch mood, “I was not the one to plan my every move for months just so I could get into someone's pants.”

“And you think that's what Blaine did?”, she asked, staring at Kurt challengingly, her hands on her hips.

“Of course it was what he did Santana!”, his voice broke pathetically when he started talking, “He said that was what he wanted right when we met, and when he understood I wouldn't give in as easily as he thought, he kept on changing until he found the combination that made me break!”, he looked down, tears falling down his cheeks again and lips firmly pressed together. Rachel tsk'd and gave Santana a pointed look as she got up to go get some tissues.

“Kurt”, Santana started more softly, letting her hands drop and approaching him before sitting in front of him in the center table. She was pissed at him for what he'd thought of Blaine, for what he'd accepted with no question that Blaine was capable of doing, but she could see how much it was hurting him. She just had to stuff some sense into his pretty gay head. “Look, I know that you're like a new born goldfish with McQueen scales in the rainbow dating pool and you feel like you have to watch out for all the pervy sharks out there, but you're so paranoid you're seeing them where there aren't none. Blaine?”, upset or not, Kurt had to smile at the clear affection in Santana's voice when she said the boy's name, “He's a goldfish just like you. Maybe he's swam the depths with some other fish before, and maybe that's the reason he's hiding behind those unbreakable metal scales, but still a goldfish.”

Kurt looked at her, confusion, hurt and curiosity swimming in his eyes.

“Blaine has been hurt a lot in the past, Kurt”, Santana stopped joking around, really trying to get through to him, “Every time he's shown his real self, he's been shut down. His parents barely spoke to him after he came out, his brother forgot all about him when he moved to L.A., he was bullied in school, his first boyfriend dumped him when he refused to have sex right away, and he didn't get to go to Julliard even after he was accepted there because his sad excuse of a father refused to pay for the sharp tuition just so he could “starve to death”. We all know you're really brave Kurt, but you were always loved. What would you have done if not even your own family accepted you? Probably the same as Blaine. Hide behind a leather jacket, a foul mouth and a don't mess with me attitude. It's his defense mechanism. The only reason I got to know him for real was because I live with him and it's really hard to keep the mask on when you're falling asleep with your nose in your books. And because of my Psychic Mexican third eye, of course. But you? You got to see the real Blaine too. The lovable, charming, sharp around the edges but oh so good Blaine. Blaine who plays music so beautifully in that stupid keyboard of his that I have to think of dead kittens or straight sex so I don't puke my heart out. He let you see him because he liked you, because he trusted you, because he wanted you to show him who you are too. And what did you do? Exactly what he's been trying to avoid. You judged him without a cause, you insulted him and you turned your back on him when he was the most vulnerable.”, she told him, being purposely harsh.

Kurt had the most miserable look on his face, tears falling uncontrollably now, but he was still struggling to wrap his mind around all of it, “H-How do you know all of this?”

“I got home one day and heard the end of what seemed to be a very heated phone call, and when I asked Blaine about it – Hobbit looked absolutely pissed but also a second away from breaking down – he told me it was his dad trying to get him to change his major again. Asking if he'd found a freakin' girlfriend. And then it all sort of poured out of him. We were basically talking the whole night, and several bottles of beer later, we pretty much had no secrets to each other.”, she shrugged, like it was no big deal that the bitchiest, snappiest woman he had ever met had apparently opened her soul to someone like Blaine – someone like who he had assumed Blaine was. “That was also when he told me how much he regretted the way he came onto you when you guys met. How he wished he could have just been braver and talked to you like Blaine, because now there was no way “someone as perfect and selfless and flawless as Kurt”,” she mimicked in a lower copy of Blaine's sweet voice, “would ever pay attention to him.”

Kurt felt sick to his stomach, shame written in his every feature, as every moment he had spent with Blaine came front in his mind. How he had never said anything actually insulting or mean in any way, how even his innuendos had become something like a little joke between them. How he'd never actually seen him with anyone else, how he seemed to spend all his nights at home, or going out with the three of them. How he lit up when he talked about music, and how could Kurt have thought someone that talented, that passionate, that bright, could have been such a jerk? In light of the new events, every look, every smile and every touch they had shared got new meanings. New honesty.

“Oh my god”, he whispered, even deeper in his despair now, because this was his entire fault. Blaine was perfect, everything he'd ever wanted and more, and he'd just gone and destroyed everything with his pessimism and incapacity of considering the possibility of being wrong. “He's going to hate me. He already hates me.”

They had kissed. They had kissed and it had been perfect and more than Kurt had imagined – sweet and loving but also passionate and full of sincere want -, and it must have meant as much to Blaine as it did to Kurt, and he'd hurt him and stormed out, oh my god.

Santana chuckled, shaking her head, “No he doesn't. He couldn't. But he's very angry. Mostly at himself, I think, for letting this happen again.”

“What do I do, Santana?”, he asked her, ‘cause hell if he had any idea on how to make things right between them.

Santana looked at him for a second longer before standing up and walking in the direction of the door, “That's not my problem Bambi”, she said, her usual mocking tone back, “I told you what you needed to know, now you do whatever you want to”, she turned around after she opened the door, all sympathy gone from her stare, “I just hope Danny Zuko downstairs is shitting-rainbows happy and exhausted from too many orgasms when I come back tomorrow night. I'm going to let you have the house to yourselves and use the opportunity to cash a proposition I was made a few days ago. Blaine better not be alone when I get back unless you want the hunters to come for you. Fix this.”, and Kurt could do nothing but accept the threat as she disappeared and left him on the couch, with too many emotions, too much information and too little cheesecake to find out what to do with them.

* * *

“Can't believe you forgot your keys again Sant- Kurt?”

Blaine's eyes were red rimmed and his eyelashes stuck wetly to each other. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkled and he was wearing what appeared to be a very worn and comfortable sweatshirt. Kurt had never seen anyone looking so miserable, and it only got worse when he opened the door and saw Kurt there.

Kurt didn't go downstairs as soon as Santana left. He wanted to think things through and also give Blaine some space; he knew the boy must have been really hurt by what he did, and he knew that, if he wanted a shot at forgiveness, he had to let him calm down.

So he cooked dinner, ate with Rachel, baked Blueberry muffins – Blaine's favorite – and washed his face before marching downstairs, every step taken with confidence he wasn't sure he possessed.

But now, faced with Blaine's misery, he suddenly wasn't so sure he deserved a second chance.

But that was Blaine's choice to make.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, Kurt's words died in his throat at the angry flash in Blaine's eyes, “Came to yell at me some more? Go ahead, at least this time I know you'll leave without any explanations.”, he spat out every word; and seeing Blaine so altered, so furious because of him, shook Kurt to his core.

“Blaine…”, he started weakly, tears already shimmering in his eyes, but Blaine was in a roll, already too deep in his anger.

“What?! Did you want to ask about my acting techniques? Maybe wonder if I still will give you piano lessons? Well, you tell me Kurt! Since you seem to know me so well!”, he was back in the apartment, seemingly unable to hold still, looking at Kurt but giving small steps in every direction, hands in fists by his side, his whole frame shaking.

Kurt followed him inside, closing the door slowly, the low “click” a sharp contrast to Blaine's loud protests. He put down the muffin' container before turning around.

He tried again, calmly, “Blaine, listen.”

“Oh no, I heard plenty before you left! I'd just like to understand why you're here-“

“Blaine”

“-When you clearly think so poorly of me-“

“Blaine”

“-That you think I'm a fake fuckin-“

“BLAINE!” , he screamed, every ounce of strength, command and certainty he had poured into that one word.

Blaine stanched, looking at Kurt with wide, fearful eyes, his whole posture dropping as anger was replaced by sadness again.

“I came here to apologize”, Kurt said, “And I don't know if you'll accept it – you probably shouldn't – but I'm too selfish not to try.”

Blaine bit his lower lip, clearly not knowing where any of this was going, but nodded weakly.

“I was a total bitch to you, and you didn't deserve it. I'm not used to trusting people, and I'm most definitely not used to people liking me like-like that, so I had to come up with this crazy excuse for why you'd act like that, to defend myself, ‘cause you couldn't really like me. I just- We were kissing-“, Kurt blushed and, to his surprise, so did Blaine, “-and I was drowning in it and suddenly I remembered all those things I had convinced myself of. Things about you. Things that would explain what was happening. I know this is not a great excuse, that I lashed out and hurt you and it wasn't fair to you. I wasn't fair to you. You never gave me any reasons to doubt you, I made them up. This was all my fault, not yours.”

Kurt took a deep breath, the main part of his apology out of the way, and he took Blaine's attentive but calm posture, the maybe almost hint of a sad smile on his lips, as an incentive to gamble.

“I-I don't know if what Santana said was true but I-I really really like you, the real you, and if you don't regret what happened earlier – I-I mean – if you maybe l-like me back? Maybe we could-“

Kurt shut up, because Blaine had an enormous grin of his face, his eyes shining, and even in the state he was – he was the most beautiful thing Kurt had ever seen.

“Kurt”, he said, the emotion in his voice making Kurt tremble, “How could I not like you?”

That literally punched the air out of Kurt's lungs because – here it was – that was a dream come true: a beautiful, perfectly flawed boy admitting to liking him back.

Kurt walked forward carefully, trying to sense what Blaine wanted, but Blaine rushed forward into his arms, hugging him fiercely, his face pressed against Kurt's neck, his hair tickling his nose and his small compact frame completely enveloped by Kurt's bigger one.

“You're perfect, Blaine”, Kurt whispered, his lips against Blaine's ear, “I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions, I'm sorry I hurt you because I thought I needed to defend myself from you. I'm so sorry.”

Blaine pressed a kiss on his neck and pulled back, keeping his hands on Kurt's arms.

“I understand, I should have just told you myself what I know Santana did. I wanted to, but I was just scared…”

“Scared of what?”, Kurt asked, already working on the communication problem that had caused them all these issues.

“Scared of disappointing you. Of you walking out like they all did.”

Kurt brought his hands to Blaine's face, brushing off the stray tears that had fallen, “I would never walk out on you for telling me the truth. I walked out because I thought you were lying. The only thing you need to do to keep me is being you, Blaine. No masks, no excuses. Just Blaine. Okay?”

Blaine nodded heartily, whispering “Yes” and looking Kurt in the eye with melted amber that took the final hold on Kurt's heart.

“So, what do you say we sit on the couch with those muffins I brought and some coffee, and I get to know more about this Blaine that feels the need to wear a mask, and I tell you more about the Kurt that always defends himself, hum?”

“That sounds perfect.”

* * *

Kurt looked up from the magazine he was reading on the couch when he heard the door open.

Blaine appeared, hair completely messed up by the wind, and broke into a huge grin when he saw him, “Kurt! I didn't know you were going to be here!”, he said as he dropped his things by the door.

“Hummel came to check my audition piece for that show I talked to you about. It's flawless, of course”, answered Santana before showing up from behind her curtain, “But don't worry, I'll leave if the two of you decide to kick out the Smurfs living in your underwear.”

Blaine rolled his eyes dismissively as he settled on his knees on the couch besides Kurt, an excited look on his face, “So, I've been thinking-“

They were used to Santana's (and Rachel's, and all their other friend's) comments on their relationship by now – 3 weeks after the “misunderstanding”, as they called it. None of them understood why they couldn't just be together – even though they technically were: they went out together, held hands, cuddled on the couch watching movies, and kissed sometimes. Just not, well, a lot. And never more than little pecks, usually in greeting, nothing compared to their first kiss. They were still testing the waters, getting to know each other for real, trying to work things out, and if their friends didn't understand that, then screw them.

But there were definitely some parts of Kurt who didn't understand either, if the way he longingly imagined Blaine finishing his sentence with “-and you should fuck me against the wall” was anything to go by.

“Kurt?”

Kurt broke out of it and looked at Blaine, taking his eyes away from Blaine's knees, which he'd been looking at as he spaced out, “Yes, sorry, keep going.”

“Yes, well, I've been thinking and-“, he took a deep breath, the huge grin on his face no longer under control, “ –I want to get a tattoo.”

Kurt literally felt all the air leaving his lungs in a rush, and that's probably why he had a delirious moment when he conjured a clear image of Blaine's wrist with Kurt Hummel written on it.

He should probably make an appointment with NYU's counselor.

“What?”, he finally answered, back in control of his brain, “Why?”

Blaine didn't budge under what appeared to be Kurt's disapproval, had probably been expecting it already, “I feel like I've overcome something really important in my life, sort of a milestone, and I want to remember it forever. I don't want to forget how it was before, how difficult it was, and how much it took to change. Who it took to change.”

Kurt was suddenly really scared that his delusion had been a premonition.

“And why can't that be a painting? A printed t-shirt? A freakin' movie?!”

Blaine chuckled as he shook his head, “No. It's a part of me. I want it to show. I can't really explain it, I just now that's what I want. That's what I need to, I don't know, finish the process I guess?”, and now he looked more nervous, scared that Kurt would be so against the idea he wouldn't stand by him.

Kurt sighed, and then looked at him with a gentle smile, “Ok then, if you're sure. As long as it is not a koi fish on your ankle.”

Blaine laughed loudly before hugging Kurt, “It's not a fish, nor a flower, nor a dragon. And it's not on my ankle.”, he assured, finishing with a teasing smirk, “Also not on my lower back.”

Kurt sighed dramatically, “Damn, that would be a good excuse to get you shirtless.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but they'd been walking on the mine field for very long, and anything worked as the match to light up the fuse. They looked at each other, still weirdly hugging on the couch, and Blaine's eyes flicked to Kurt's lips, the taller boy's breath hitching.

Blaine pulled back, clearing his throat before looking at Kurt again, he's eyes slightly darker than they were before, “So-“, cleared his throat again, “-I was wondering if you'd come with me when I get it done.”

“Of course I will.”

And they avoided another blast.

* * *

“You never told me what your tattoo is going to be”, Kurt asked, as they walked down the road that would take them to the tattoo studio Blaine had decided on (and that Kurt had Santana make sure was safe and clean).

“I'm not going to, you're going to see it get done.”

Kurt huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He'd asked Blaine to wait another week, to really think this through, and Blaine was still just as convinced and as excited as when he'd first came to Kurt with the idea. And he was also adamant that Kurt didn't find out what it was going to be.

He had even asked if he could just know where it was going to be, but Blaine had just shook his head and asked why that was important to him. Kurt had to put every class he'd ever had on acting to dodge that bullet, because their relationship clearly was still not in a phase in which I want to know if everyone will be able to see it or just me would be an acceptable answer.

They reached the entrance of the shop and Kurt turned to Blaine, putting his hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eye.
“Before you do this, I just want to remind you: This is permanent. You could buy an entire designer's collection with how much it'd cost to take this off. This will be etched into your skin when you're 30 and when you're 40 and when you're 90.”

Blaine just smiled, pulling his arms up to pull Kurt against him and hug him, the other boy's arms going around his neck, “I know, that's exactly what I want. But thank you for looking after me.”, Kurt rubbed his nose against his neck, wordlessly responding to him. Blaine smirked and put his lips on Kurt's ear, whispering, “Besides, what kind of bad boy am I without a tattoo?”

He does not have a thing for bad boys, absolutely not, Kurt thinks as a shiver goes through him.

* * *

Once inside the shop, it became clear that Blaine was serious about the secrecy business.

He had already talked to the tattoo artist – Ethan, as he told Blaine to call him, who Kurt couldn't help but notice was really attractive, in that charming way tattoo artists usually are, with sleeves, an eyebrow piercing and an easy smile.

Kurt decides very quickly that jealousy is not a nice emotion.

Ethan already knew what Blaine wanted, so he took him to another side of the shop (with his hand on Blaine's back, Kurt's traitorous brain couldn't help but notice) and put the stencil he had done on him so he could check it on the mirror.

Kurt, still near the entrance, was too far away to see what it was – as per Blaine's request – but could see Ethan pressing the drawing on the top of Blaine's spine, but low enough that he had to pull his shirt down to reach the skin.

A heat wave hit Kurt in his lower stomach, a way too clear vision of the two of them, Blaine laying on his stomach on his bed, with Kurt laying on top of him, kissing the back of his neck, biting the skin there gently, and then pulling down his shirt to lick and kiss his inked skin, to worship the proof of what he'd helped Blaine overcome, to cherish and love him and-

“Hey, don't you wanna come closer?”, Ethan asked him, already sat on his bench with the iron on his hand, Blaine laying shirtless on the tattoo chair on front of him, looking at Kurt expectantly.

“Yeah, sure, of course”, Kurt babbled as he came closer and sat on the bench opposite of Ethan, smiling at Blaine before dragging his eyes down to his friend's neck.

Kurt gasped softly as he took in the faint design, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he looked back to Blaine, eyes stinging, the other boy smiling softly at him.

“Blaine”

Kurt remembered it clearly, the night one week after the fight when they decided to watch Brave on Blaine's laptop, the two of them sitting against his bed's headboard. Near the end, they had already slipped a little down the bed, so Kurt only had his head upheld by a pillow to look at the screen, and Blaine had his head on Kurt's belly, his left arm thrown over the other boy's chest. He turned to look at Kurt without warning and just say, “You made me brave you know”, his voice low and hoarse, before rubbing his face affectionately on his belly and turning back to the screen. Kurt just looked at him, throat too tight to tell him he had done it himself, and when the movie ended and he called him softly, Blaine didn't turn around, his heavy breathing now audible in the silent room. Kurt settled back, with absolutely no intention of waking him up, and brought a hand up to the other boy's neck, scratching his light hair there as he sang himself to sleep.

“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…”

Now, looking at the hand sized blackbird already being inked into Blaine's neck, Kurt was unable to speak again, only bringing his hand up to lace his fingers with Blaine's where his hand was settled near his shoulder.

“So Blaine, wanna tell me about this tattoo?”

And Blaine did, as Kurt heard what he'd already been told by Santana and some later by Blaine, about his struggles and need to defend himself, to make sure he didn't get hurt again, no matter the cost.

“But then this beautiful man over here had to show up and put everything on a new perspective. He made me realize that, sometimes, the risk of being hurt is worth it. That heartbreak is always a likely option if you're looking for happy ever after.”

Ethan smiled, not taking his eyes from Blaine's neck, where he was now gently rubbing a wipe to clean off the excess of ink and the blood.

“All done”, he said, pulling back and taking off his gloves.

Blaine stood up, wincing as he moved his back, and Kurt steadied him putting his hands on his hips.

“Come on, let's go see it”, he told Blaine as they both walked towards the mirror, Ethan already there waiting for them.

Blaine turned around as soon as they got there, looking back to look at himself on the mirror.

“Oh wow.”, he breathed out as he smiled, The Look pretty obvious on his face, “It's amazing, wow, thank you.”

“Glad you liked it”, Ethan said nicely, looking at the two of them.

Blaine looked at Kurt, clearly waiting for his reaction.

Kurt smiled adoringly, holding Blaine's jaw in his hand, “It's perfect.”

Blaine's smile was so radiant, so carefree, and Kurt realized everything was finally right.

“You were only waiting for this moment to be free”

* * *

They walked back home in silence, their arms linked together, stealing bashful glances at each other every other second, and looking away with a faint blush when caught looking.

They went into the lower apartment wordlessly, faintly hearing Rachel's voice belting from upstairs. Going into the kitchen to fix them something to drink, Kurt found a note from Santana on the counter – Went to my ladyfriend's. Got horny from smelling all the sex you're not having. I have 80$ worth of pleasure on my bedside drawer that you can use as long as you clean it after. Love ya – and shook his head as he took their glasses to the couch area.

“Santana's gone for the night”, he informed Blaine before looking up to find him shirtless, trying to check his tattoo from behind the cheesecloth, his back turned to the full length mirror Santana had installed in their loft for dance practice. “You're not supposed to take that off Blaine”, Kurt lectured as he approached him, stopping his hand from messing up the tattoo's cover.

“I know”, Blaine sighed, “I just really want to see it again.” He turned to Kurt then, smirk set in place – now tinted with badly disguised affection, “But I guess I can settle for looking at you.”

Kurt blushed, looking down, before putting his hands on Blaine's shoulders, all the emotions he tried to hide at the tattoo parlor finally overflowing as he looked back at his amazing boy, blue eyes shining and hands shaking and cheeks burning.

“I didn't even know you remembered that”, and of course Blaine knew what he was talking about, “And then you tattoo it and I just- are you sure you're not going to regret it? Because-“

“Kurt”, Blaine interrupts him, voice cracking on his name as he held his face between his hands, thumbs caressing his pale jaw, “I'm not going to regret it. I'm never going to regret anything that has to do with you. No matter what happens to us, or where we end up, you will always have played a very important role in my life – and that has to do with a lot more than me loving you – you changed me for the better. I want to remember that forever.”

Kurt grinned, tears wetting his cheeks, before rolling his eyes, “You're just saying that to get into my pants.”

Blaine let out a loud laugh, pulling Kurt to him and hugging him close, “Can you really blame me? Even my tattoo artist wanted to do you.”

Kurt pulled back, scandalized, “Me?! Are you kidding me? He was ogling you the whole time we were there!”

He was pulled back against Blaine's chest, offering minimal resistance, feeling it shake with laughter against his own, the bare skin oozing warmth that went through his clothes, making him shiver and feel feverish at the same time. “I knew it. You were always looking at Ethan like you were thinking of ways to kill him painfully.”

“Ethan”, Kurt scoffed against his shoulder, annoyance clear in his voice as he tightened his arms around Blaine's chest.

Blaine chuckled, “You have no reason to be jealous”, he assured, pressing a kiss to the top of Kurt's head, “Yours are the only pants I want to get into.”

Humming, Kurt returned the kiss on Blaine's shoulder, before burying his nose on the crook of his neck and whispering, “I love you too, by the way.”

Blaine closed his eyes tightly, every exterior sense turned off so he could focus on the onslaught of emotions running through him. He felt warm from head to toe, his blood almost boiling and creating a fast melody as it rushed in his ears. Years and years of trying so hard, and then not trying at all, of hurt and betrayal and you're not good enough, and no one is ever going to love you, how could they; just crushed under the incredible weight of Kurt's love. The way his voice rang like music on Blaine's head, a sound he could spend his life trying to recreate on the piano, and probably would, but would never come close to make it any justice. His touch did more than send his blood running; it seemed to fix all his wounds, to dissipate any worry, to quiet every thought in his jumbled mind that wasn't KurtKurtKurt, and Blaine was oh so grateful, because there could never be any other thought that would make him so happy. He opened his eyes. The room was just like it always had been. His keyboard against the far wall, pillows and blankets thrown carelessly on the couch, a picture of the four of them on the day they'd went out to celebrate Rachel's first off Broadway role hung on the wall, a pair of Santana's heels next to the door, where she left them when she took them off right when she got home. The light coming from the window, weak but blinding during the sunset, painted the room with an orange glow – not enough light to study or write, but just right to rest on the couch, or play some music, or use his punching bag, as he'd done so many times before. But, this time, Blaine was enveloped by Kurt's warmth, Kurt's love, noticeable on the way he held him like he wasn't willing to let him go, arms around his chest; on the way his hands were open on Blaine's back, the skin there warmer, making his whole body ache for more of his touch, more of Kurt; and his own hands throbbed where they clung to Kurt, one on his neck and other on his lower back, both waiting to tear apart whatever was keeping them from Kurt's skin, from worshipping every inch of him and making him feel loved. Blaine took a deep breath, and the scent of Kurt's neck where he'd hid his face only accentuated the turmoil going on inside him – cologne, sweet and fruity and Kurt – and he just wanted that aroma all around him, for it to be the only thing he could smell when he breathed, the scent on his pillow and on his own skin. He just wanted to give this boy, this man, everything he could and take everything he had in return. And, unless Kurt stopped him, there was no way he was waiting any longer.

Bringing the hand that was on Kurt's neck to his face, he moved so they faced each other, their noses bumping together, making Kurt giggle softly, and said, “I know”, before kissing him.

It was unlike their first kiss – and the few little pecks that had occurred after – in many ways. It was slow, sweet and gentle, a kiss that promised more but that didn't rush to get it. And, this time, Kurt didn't hesitate – despite his faint gasp – in pressing their lips together more tightly, also putting a hand on Blaine's neck, bringing them closer together.

And Blaine – Blaine was sure, he didn't doubt Kurt, he trusted him, and he knew his reasons, but – broke the kiss, his hand shaking on Kurt's jaw, whispering “You're not going to leave, right?”

He didn't get to be embarrassed by his attitude or by the way his voice broke on the last word, since Kurt used his leverage on his neck to crush their lips together again, a low “Never”, mumbled against his mouth.

And then there was really nothing to hold Blaine back.

He started walking forward, dragging Kurt with him, both stammering over their steps, distracted as Kurt boldly licked Blaine's lower lip, and Blaine almost growled at having Kurt reaching out, immediately opening his mouth up to the taller boy.

They finally reached the dark curtain that surrounded Blaine's room, miraculously not tripping over each other or making a small detour to press one another against a wall, and kept their lips stubbornly together as they tried to get past the material. They were almost cocooned by the curtain when Blaine grunted “Fuck” and pulled away to pry it open, Kurt's mouth immediately falling on his neck, – a first – Blaine noted, as he buried his hand on Kurt's hair and moaned, the sucks and nips going directly down to where he was already straining his jeans.

Getting throughout the curtain and not even bothering to close it, they stumbled to the bed, and when the back of Kurt's knees hit it, Blaine gently pushed him so he'd fall on top of the covers.

Pointing with his head, Blaine instructed Kurt to crawl back until his head was on the pillows, and he settled on his elbows so he could look at Blaine.

Blaine was looking back at him, the gold of his eyes almost completely obscured by his pupils, a faint pink tinting his cheeks, and his lips red in a deliciously hot way.

“You're so fucking beautiful”, Blaine murmured reverently as he looked at Kurt, all disheveled, sprawled on his bed, his shirt falling down one of his shoulders, showing off his blushed collarbone perfectly, and an obvious bulge on his pants.

Kurt felt himself reddening even more; the room seemed to be burning, compared to the humid air outside, and the way Blaine took off his shoes, as he toed off his own, without taking his eyes off of him, didn't help him cooling off in the least.

And as Kurt looked at Blaine – who looked so in control, knowing perfectly what he was doing – he couldn't help but feel nervous. He'd never done anything, and suddenly, here he was!, about to do god knows what with the gorgeous boy he loved – and who had certainly done it with god knows who. But, as the nerves settled in and made him sweat inside his shirt, he didn't feel scared. Nervous and faintly panicky, yes, but not scared. He realized – with a certain amount of shock – that he'd let Blaine do anything to him. He trusted him so absolutely; he knew that, whatever they ended up doing, Blaine would never hurt him.

But that really didn't make him feel any calmer.

So, as Blaine got on the bed on all fours and crawled over him, an unmistakably hungry look on his face, and sat on top of Kurt's thighs, his hands on his stomach, and looking down at him with a little smirk, Kurt blurted out, “I have no idea what I'm doing”.

Blaine's smirk turned into a soft smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably as he put his hands on either side of Kurt's face and bent down as Kurt fell down on his back, bringing his lips down to Kurt's, encouraging him to open his lips, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth until Kurt was completely pliant under him, his hands coming up from where they were resting on his sides on the covers to Blaine's thighs, kneading them slowly.

Blaine pulled back, the same smile on his face as Kurt whimpered pathetically, straining up, trying to chase his lips, “Relax, love. We won't do anything you're not ready for, okay?”, he assured him, and Kurt nodded a little as Blaine kissed up and down his neck, before softly resting his lips by his ear, “I'm going to make you feel so good”.

Kurt's hips shot up, just as a whine bubbled out of his throat, his body out of control and desperate for any kind of friction where he really needed it.

“Blaine”, he moaned, and the other boy chuckled, the vibration where his lips were pressed against Kurt's pulse point making a shiver race down his spine.

“What babe?”, Blaine answered calmly, apparently content to simply kiss down Kurt's chest, nipping and licking gently at his collarbone, bringing a hand up to undo some of the buttons on Kurt's shirt, and following the line of skin that was uncovered with his lips.

Kurt squirmed on the bed, wiggling under Blaine's weight, kept in place by his thighs on either side of his hips, powerless, “Do something. Please.”

“I'd say I'm doing plenty, wouldn't you?”, he retorted, the bastard, as he flicked his tongue ring against Kurt's nipple.

But before Kurt could decide between crying in desperation – it just wasn't right to tease him like that on his first time god damnit – or in pleasure, Blaine moved on top of him, bringing his pelvis a little further up, effectively pressing his ass against Kurt's groin.

And then he really could have howled in protest as Blaine's legs tightened around him, pinning his hips on the bed and making it impossible for him to rub himself against the irresistible curve of Blaine's ass.

Blaine sat up, the glint in his eyes telling Kurt he knew exactly what he was doing. He finally helped Kurt shrug off his shirt, roaming his hands over his chest while Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine's chest, feeling decidedly ready for another first, his restlessness increasing as he imagined what it'd feel like to have Blaine's chest pressed fully against his.

Kurt decided that, from then on, they should always listen to Blaine's ideas, ‘cause they were so much better, as proven when Blaine ground his ass, oh god, against his pants-constricted dick, so so much better.

Kurt's hands squeezed high on Blaine's thighs as he gasped, head thrown back, and that seemed to be the first crack on Blaine's control, if the way he groaned lowly and fell onto his elbows, chest to chest and ohmygodsogood with Kurt, and buried his face on the other boy's exposed neck, sucking what would be sure to be a very angry bruise.

“Blaine”, Kurt moaned for what appeared to be the thousand time, one of his hands coming up to Blaine's hair, pushing him to keep him in place, while the other one came up to rest on one of Blaine's ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading and helping on the perfectperfectperfect roll of his hips against Kurt's.

The taller boy felt like he could literally burst from all the new sensations coursing through him, the feel of Blaine completely on top of him, marking him, rutting against him, the little hair on his chest tickling deliciously against his smooth one, his flexing ass on his hands, it was all just too much, and still not enough, and Kurt was swiftly worried that this could all end way too quickly.

Somehow, Blaine seemed to get it, and the roll of his hips turned lazy, swallowing with his mouth the breathless whine that Kurt, nonetheless, let out.

“Breathe”, Blaine ordered gently right against his lips, before kissing him again. He then inspired deeply through his nose, almost squashed against Kurt's face, waited a moment, and exhaled the air slowly into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's eyes shot open, as the air filled his lungs, before he let it out shakily, and Blaine repeated the process. As Blaine controlled the speed with which he took each breath, Kurt felt every last ounce of tension flow right out of him. His body practically melted onto the covers of the bed, his heart strong and fast inside his chest, but not frenzied. His hips stopped straining up, and he leisurely brought his arms up and around Blaine's back, squeezing him against himself before simply holding him; starting to kiss Blaine's open mouth again, breathing almost steadily against Blaine's nose.

He felt the corners of Blaine's lips going up, the other boy smiling as he kissed him. Blaine let the kiss go on for a little while, enjoying Kurt's pliant body under his and the hard pressure against his ass, before giving him one last peck and rubbing their noses together for just a second, pulling back enough to start to slowly kiss down Kurt's chest.

Kurt sighed in bliss, letting Blaine go, his hands trailing up the other boy's tanned and muscled back, avoiding the place where his tattoo hid, and squeezing his strong shoulders before settling on his head, just as Blaine reached his belly button. He swirled his tongue inside, making Kurt giggle, before going further down and trailing the waistband of his pants with his lips.

“Can I take these off?”, he asked, as his hands settled on Kurt's hipbones, pushing teasingly at his pants with the heels of his hands; his hazel eyes looking up innocently even as he licked down Kurt's happy trail.

Kurt only managed to breathe out a “Please”, before Blaine's deft fingers were undoing his button and zipper, pulling his pants off in as much of a swift motion as possible, considering how skinny they were. It was really a testament to how much Kurt was in love with this boy, the way even his persistency on taking off skinny jeans, for Christ' sake, made Kurt want to squirm in happiness.

Blaine pushed Kurt's legs apart, from where he sat back on the end of the bed, and Kurt really would have been able to see what was coming next if he'd taken his eyes off of Blaine's mischievous, hungry expression. Blaine's hand on him, even through his briefs, was like an electrical shock to his brain – going through him like lightning. The surprised O shape his mouth took and the dazzled expression on his face couldn't be taken for anything else except for the surprise that comes from being touched for the first time, discovering how Blaine's hand palming him felt so different from his own.

But Kurt was never one to leave things at half, and he was really dangerously close to coming already, the sudden rush creeping back on him full time, so he blurted out, with as much command as he could, “I need you to take those off me right now Blaine, please, now, I swear to God”.

And Blaine was way past the point of denying Kurt anything he wanted – had been for months really – and immediately pulled Kurt's briefs off, Kurt's authoritarian tone more than enough of a confirmation.

As his briefs hit the ground, Kurt realized that this was the first time he was naked in front of Blaine, in front of anyone really, at least as an adult, and he really ought to be more nervous.

But he just couldn't find it in himself; he was already all Blaine's. This was just Blaine getting to see what was his. Still, the way Blaine was looking at him, mouth slightly opened, just like he wanted nothing more than to devour him whole, stroked his ego in all the best ways.

Which reminded him; his ego shouldn't be the only thing being stroked.

“Are you just going to stare or are you going to do something?”, Kurt asked boldly, shocked to hear Blaine's teasing and sexy tone on his own voice, laced with his personal strength and wit. Apparently, being so blatantly desired had done wonders for his confidence.

Blaine looked surprised for a second, his eyebrows coming up slightly, before his face settled on the most devious expression Kurt had ever seen, his smirk as provocative as ever.

Just as Kurt was about to ask what the hell he was thinking, Blaine fell onto his elbows between Kurt's legs, licking a wide stripe up his cock.

“Oh my God”, Kurt moaned, high and strained, as his fists clenched the bed cover on either side of him and his head was thrown back in a silent scream.

Blaine smirked against his dick, the fucker, before circling its head with his tongue, then sucking it between his lips with an extremely graphic noise.

Kurt was now super aware of what the big deal with blowjobs was because, wow, he was on the verge of hysterics as Blaine swallowed him down, bobbing his head up and down, and Kurt really should gather the presence of mind and body to look down at him, because frankly, c'mon.

But, as Kurt got up on his elbows, that turned out to be a big mistake. The sight of Blaine's mouth around him, lips cherry pink and obscenely wet with spit, his completely messed up hair illuminated like a halo by the last sunbeams coming from the window, and his eyes fixed on Kurt's, completely dark as he bobbed his head and moaned around him.

Kurt's balls squeezed tight against his body, and as one of his hands scrambled on the bed and the other grabbed onto Blaine's hair, he only managed to gasp out a “Blaine, I-I'm g-gonna-“, before his whole body seized up, his head thrown back as he howled what appeared to be Blaine's name, who was swallowing greedily around him. As his body came down some time later, he hummed as Blaine licked him clean until he hissed from oversensitivity.

Kurt just kept staring at the ceiling, sprawled open on the bed, his breathing coming out as panting. Blaine came up to rest next to him, laying on his side and holding his head up with his hand, looking at Kurt with what appeared to be a mix of adoration and smugness.

When Kurt finally managed to look back at him, he was still pretty out of it. “That was amazing”, he mumbled out, his eyes shutting down as he sighed in pleasure.

“Glad to be of service”, Blaine chuckled, causing Kurt to hum and turn into him, cuddling against his chest with his head against his neck.

Blaine tried to pull back, but as Kurt's leg came up around his hips, there was no way to mistake the pressure against Kurt's hip.

Kurt looked up, kissing Blaine softly, their lips separating with a wet smack. “Let me take care of you”, he whispered as he brought a hand down to squeeze Blaine where he was oh so hard.

“You really don't have to do that”, Blaine chocked out, hands squeezed into fists where he was touching Kurt, but there was so little conviction behind his words that Kurt didn't even hesitate, only bringing his lips up to whisper “But I really want to” in his ear, before undoing his zipper and pulling his jeans down enough to get his hand inside his pants.

Turns out, having someone else on your hand is also very different, Kurt found out as Blaine gasped by his ear, both his hands grabbing a hold of Kurt anywhere he could reach, his legs parting invitingly, as he squeezed his hand around Blaine, touching the large wet spot on the underwear and moaning, getting almost as much pleasure off of pleasing Blaine as of being touched.

Thirsty for more contact, Kurt let his hand trail the waistband of Blaine's briefs, waiting for the other boy to jerkily nod against his face, to drag his hand inside and finally touch the hard flesh. Blaine felt so different in his hand, but even with all the pre-come it was still a little dry, so Kurt brought his hand back out and up to his mouth, licking his palm and fingers before sticking his hand back on Blaine's briefs.

The visual and the sudden wet perfect touch to his dick shed the last of Blaine's already precarious control, making him growl and push Kurt back onto his back, kissing him deep and messy, more tongue than lips as they both moaned against each other. Blaine pushed his jeans and underwear down so that his dick was out, and started fucking forward onto Kurt's fist around him.

“Tighter”, he instructed, his voice low and gravelly as he let his forehead fall against Kurt's, whose fist immediately tightened around him, making him groan approvingly, “Kurt”.

“You feel so good, B”, Kurt whispered almost reverently, speeding his fist and trying to get Blaine's mouth back on his, whining urgently to get his attention.

Blaine crashed their lips together, but they just panted into each other's mouths as Blaine's movements became jerky, his whole body tensing. Kurt brought his hand down to squeeze at Blaine's ass just as his wrist twisted around the head of his dick, commanding “Come for me”.

Blaine's back arched, his brow furrowing and his mouth open on a silent scream against Kurt's, his hips frozen as he came on Kurt's hand and stomach, who kept on pumping him slowly.

He then fell down on top of Kurt, panting, his come getting on his own stomach and his pants still around his thighs, but Blaine didn't pay that any attention as he grabbed Kurt's face on his hands, putting their forehead together and smiling so widely it looked like he had never known pain before.

“I love you”, he whispered, the sound of meaning on every word. It rushed through Kurt, pleasant and warm and happy and a confirmation of what had just happened.

“I love you too”, Kurt replied, Blaine's smile mirrored on his face, before bringing his hands up to push the other boy's head down, kissing him silly.

“Hey”, Blaine interrupted after a few minutes, ignoring Kurt's whine of protest. He wiggled on top of Kurt and looked at him knowingly, one eyebrow raised in teasing, “Really?”

Kurt blushed, even though he was not really embarrassed, his hard on pressed again against Blaine's hip, “What can I say”, he shrugged, “I have a hot boyfriend.”

“That you do”, Blaine whispered against his lips, before pulling back and up to take his pants and underwear the rest of the way off, “And one who also never lets things unfinished.”

* * *

“RACHEL!”

Dropping the note with a pretty incredible control, if she does say so herself, Rachel paused her vocal training for what was sure to be a short time, in order to open the door to her friend.

“I fear this will have to be fast Santana, I was just about to-“

“I don't give a FUCK about what you were about to do, Imp! A fucking celebration is in order!”

Rachel stared in confusion as she closed the door after Santana entered the apartment.

“Santana, I don't think I understand-“

“I'll tell you what I understand. I understand that our gays finally did the nasty nasty! I was starting to fear for the resistance of Male Gaga's chastity bell, but it looks like Blainers rid him off that weight.”, she said as she unceremoniously laid down on the couch, reaching for the tv's remote.

“What do you mean Santana?”, Rachel intervened, unconvinced, “How do you-“

“Oh I'll tell you how”, Santana said, a sort of unsettlingly knowing glint on her eyes, “Auntie Tana gets home this morning, just as I said I woulds, and what's my surprise to see the curtain to Blaine's room thrown open, clothes everywhere – and, ups, surprise! – Mr. Gay and Mr. Gayer laying curled together on the bed, both proudly wearing their birthday suits' for display. And what a display, man, those two must have gone at it like a kid at a theme park, just riding the attractions again and again and ag-“

“Oh my God, Santana!”, Rachel shrieked, just as much to shut her up as a show of excitement,” This is marvelous! And while it was awfully wrong of you to creep on them like I'm certain you did – At last!”, she clapped excitedly, and she could see Santana smiling on the couch, obviously pleased too. “You're absolutely right; celebrations are indeed in order! I'll start on dinner immediately-“

This girl was just too much. “Please don't”, Santana chimed in, “They just inaugurated their men sticks' duel, I don't want them to burn to death so soon.”

And as Rachel sputtered indignantly, talking about her culinary achievements, Santana concluded she definitely must be one hell of a friend to be willing to move in with that rattle in the foreseeable future.

* * *

“I swear to god, if you two don't get out of that room and make me stand this screeching leprechaun and her stupid party alone-“

“This is a Trading Roommates Celebration, it is not stupid Santana-“

“-I will use my hidden torture set to cut off your dangling flesh – or put a permanent cork up your asses, still not sure what's best-“

“Are you as happy as I am we don't have to live with them anymore?”, Blaine asked from behind his soon to be useless curtain, his voice muffled by the skin of Kurt's neck, which vibrated against his lips as the other boy hummed affirmatively.

They were both dressed and ready, but they just wanted one more minute before facing their soon to be ex-roommates. So they kept hugging, Kurt's back against the wall right by the dark curtain, and Blaine pressed all along his front, pressing sweet kisses on the base of his throat.

“I do”, he agreed at last, “But they had a lot of work putting this together, we really need to get out. Besides,” he continued, his cheek resting on the top of Blaine's head, his hand caressing the back of his neck, “We're going to miss them a bit.”

“They'll live right above us.”

“I know,” Kurt sighed, “but it just isn't the same.”

Blaine looked up, eyebrows furrowed, “Hey, don't want you sad”, he breathed. “Tell you what”, Blaine said as his hands came down to grab Kurt's ass, making him hum with interest, “All you have to think about is how we'll get to christen every inch of this house after they leave after dinner.”

Kurt purred in delight, sliding a little down the wall, stopping at eye level with Blaine, “We should do something really crazy to celebrate”, he suggested.

“Finally fucking me over the kitchen counter not crazy enough for you?”, Blaine murmured against his mouth as his hands squeezed his ass.

“Hmm, I don't know. Maybe if you throw in a little spanking, who knows.”

“Oh really”, Blaine answered teasingly, pressing his hips forward against Kurt's really interested cock; and after 5 months of dating Kurt already knew nothing good could come out of that spark in his eyes and full on smirk.

“Well then,”, Blaine started, “What do you say I call Ethan and invite him to a threeso- Ouch!”


The End