1.       Pool Party

“So, not a bad turn out,” Sam said, plopping down beside Blaine where he sat at the edge of his parents' pool, his feet dangling in the water.

“Yeah, it's a pretty sweet party.  Looks like the girls are having fun,” Blaine replied, gesturing to where the women were dancing to “Milkshake” on the deck, music blasting and still in their bikinis.  His graduation party had been in full swing for hours now and most of the actual adults had long retreated indoors, leaving the teenagers to break loose in the yard.  There had been several raucous games both in and out of the pool and frankly, Blaine was exhausted.

“So why aren't you?”

“Are you kidding?  This has been a blast!”

“Yeah, man.  I think maybe you're just in the mood for… other things…” with a friendly jab of his elbow and a wink, Sam indicated the Andersons' row of pool chairs, where Kurt and Rachel had been stretched out on their stomachs for at least the last hour enjoying the late afternoon sun.

Blaine's face flushed as he glanced over at his fiancé, a display of smooth lines and pale skin only interrupted by the tight black swim trunks stretched over his perfect ass.  Sam wasn't wrong.  “You know what, I think it's about that time that Kurt told me he needed his sun screen reapplied… I better wake him up and remind him.”

“Dude, it's like six-thirty… it'll be dark soon anyways,” Sam said, smiling knowingly.

“Yeah but he uses like SPF 100.  He doesn't want to tan.”

“If you say so.”

“I'll catch you later, okay?” Blaine said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

“Sure you will.”

As Blaine approached Kurt's chair, it became increasingly evident that his fiancé really was sleeping, and Blaine was tempted for a moment to just watch him.  He knew there would be many moments like this in the near future, but right now witnessing such a thing was a rare opportunity, one to be cherished.

Stronger temptations won out.

“Hey, Kurt!”

Kurt didn't budge so Blaine knelt down beside him, right up next to his face, and placed a hand on his warm back.  “Kurt,” he said again, looming closer.  When Kurt still didn't stir, he glanced around him.  The girls were still dancing, the boys—Sam included—were playing Frisbee on the lawn, and Rachel was sleeping too.  “Sweetheart,” he whispered, lips brushing against Kurt's ear.  His skin was so smooth, hot from the rays of the sun, and slowly, Blaine darted his tongue out, licking up and around the curve of Kurt's ear before nibbling gently on the lobe.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, half moan and half chastisement.  “What are you doing?”

“Waking you up,” Blaine said, offering him his most charming smile.  “You need more sunscreen.”

Kurt groaned.  “Don't wanna move.”

“I got it,” Blaine said, sliding their lips together teasingly.  “You just stay right here.”

Kurt's eyes fluttered closed again as Blaine dug through his pool bag, quickly locating the sizeable bottle of sunscreen and popping the cap to squeeze some into his palm.  Bracing himself with one hand, he carefully swung his body around to straddle Kurt's hips.  Blaine rubbed his hands together briefly, then brought them down softly on Kurt's shoulder blades and began his massage.

“It's cold,” Kurt mumbled.  “But it feels good.”

Blaine hummed above him, shifting to get comfortable, his hands moving with practiced ease.  After several moments his knees began to feel the strain, so he let his hips drop and weight settle against the slight curve of his fiancé's ass.

“Blaine, is that???”

“What?”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, his bottom squirming beneath him.

Oh.  That.

He quickly glanced around them again. Everybody was going about the same activities, no one paying them any mind.  Daringly, he thrust a little, feeling his cock sliding against the familiar cleft of Kurt's cheeks.  “It's alright,” he said.  “No one's watching.”

Kurt was breathing heavily, his eyes wide and fully alert.  “Maybe we could take this to your room?”

Blaine moaned and his hips stuttered again as if on auto-pilot.  The idea was far too tempting.  “They would know,” he protested weakly.

“I don't care.”

Kurt wiggled his ass again, grinding against Blaine's cock and spurring a rush of blood that made him impossibly harder.  “Yeah,” Blaine breathed.  “I don't either.”

Oh wait….

2.       Modeling

“Tell me again why I agreed to do this?” Kurt huffed, his arms fidgeting with the need to cross in front of his body.  He'd been standing there, on display, for over an hour now and it was starting to get old.

“Because you love me?” Dani said sweetly, her pencil still flying over her sketch book where she was curled on their couch.

“I may be starting to reconsider that,” Kurt said irritably.

“Hey, watch your manners with my girl,” Santana lectured, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth. 

“I don't see Blaine complaining,” Dani pointed out, shooting him a smile that he easily returned.

Kurt scowled.  “Blaine's too polite to say anything.  We need a break.”

“Hey now, I was—“

“We need a break,” Kurt repeated, cutting his fiancé off.

Santana rolled her eyes.  “Give them ten minutes,” she told Dani, then smiled, her demeanor changing.  “I'll make it worth your while.”

“Sure,” Dani agreed, glancing from Kurt to Blaine and then finally over to her girlfriend.  “Make it fifteen, actually.  You have been standing there a while.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said, nodding and grabbing Blaine's hand to pull him into their room.

“Thank you,” Blaine called out politely over his shoulder just before they disappeared from sight.  When they were out of view, he rounded on his fiancé with a slight frown.  “Kurt what was…?”

“Shut up,” Kurt commanded, pulling him forward into a heated kiss.  “God Blaine, you have no idea the way they had you pose…

Blaine's expression shifted completely as understanding began to dawn.  “They said fifteen minutes,” he said, breath hitching in his throat.  “They'll probably be longer.”

Kurt growled and smoothed his hand across Blaine's chest, then shoved him back until he stumbled onto the bed.  “We're the models,” he said, climbing up to straddle him, Blaine following his every move with lust-blown eyes.  “They can wait for us.”

Okay, maybe not quite like that…

3.       Injury

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Blaine chanted under his breath.

“I don't think I've ever heard you use that word so much outside of sex,” Kurt said, his own face morphed into a grimace.  “I guess Rachel wasn't lying about Cassie.”

“I guess not.  But at least she never came home with any scrapes or strained muscles.”

“Torn,” Kurt corrected.  “My shoulder is torn; it feels torn.  That woman has destroyed me.”

“I'm sure it's not as bad as all that,” Blaine said, slipping his key into the lock and turning it, then sliding open the heavy door.  “Come on, let's go to our room and I'll take a look.”

“You too,” Kurt said stubbornly.  “I want to look at that brush burn on your back.  If it's hurting so much it's got to be bad.”

Entering their room, Blaine pulled his shirt off easily, wincing at the slide of the material against his chafed skin.  “Wow, that floor got you something fierce,” Kurt said, gently running a finger over the damaged skin.  Blaine hissed.  “You aren't bleeding anymore, but it looks like you were.  I'm gonna grab some stuff from the bathroom to clean this up.”

He left the room, reappearing quickly with some gauze and peroxide.

Blaine backed away, eyeing the bottle with trepidation.  “I don't like that stuff.  It stings.”

“I'll be gentle,” Kurt said, his eyes glittering in amusement.  “Now come here; stop being such a baby.”

Blaine did so, only reluctantly turning his back.  “You wound me,” he pouted.

“Not my fault,” Kurt sing-songed, uncapping the bottle and wetting the gauze, gently pulling Blaine's skin taunt as he dabbed at the wound.  Blaine's muscles tensed under his hand, but he made no sound.  “There, all finished.”

“What about your shoulder?”

“Oh,” Kurt said.  He'd honestly forgotten, but now that Blaine brought it up again, the muscle did still feel sore.  He rolled his shoulder a few times to test it, wincing at the pain but completing the movement with little difficulty.  “It's fine now.”

“No, Kurt, let me see,” Blaine insisted, something sparking in his eyes underneath his usual earnestness. 

“Well, I suppose,” Kurt agreed after a moment, working his shirt up with his good arm and hissing at the stab of pain when he tried to pull the garment off.

Blaine was there in an instant.  “Here, let me help,” he offered, grabbing hold of the material and gently working it over Kurt's head and arms.

“You are rather good at undressing me,” Kurt said.

Blaine's fingers trailed cool over his injured shoulder, and he placed a kiss there, just right of Kurt's shoulder blade.  “I should hope so.  Think a massage would help?”

“I don't know.  But please.”

Blaine guided them both to sit on the bed, his hands beginning to work over the muscles of Kurt's neck and upper back.

“Mmm,” Kurt sighed in satisfaction.  “You know, I think that was worth it.  Just to see you dance like that.”

“Yeah?”

“I had to fight to keep from going hard.  You distracted me.  This injury's really your fault.”

Blaine's hands stalled, his lips finding the crook of Kurt's neck instead.  “Yeah?” he repeated, his mouth trailing wet and hot over the pale expanse of Kurt's skin.  Kurt gasped and tilted his head.  “I could make it up to you.  A repeat performance.”

“A private repeat performance?” Kurt asked

“Very private.”

“And since this is… private,” Kurt said, breathing more sharply as Blaine's arm came around him, his fingers playing at a nipple while his tongue and teeth still worked at Kurt's neck, “it could be… clothing optional?”

“I suppose that could be arranged,” Blaine agreed.

Kurt twisted in his arms to meet his fiancé's eyes.  “Then I think you should strip.”

Blaine laughed and stood obediently, his hands falling to his belt…

Guess that one didn't work either…

4.       Performance

“I cannot believe I agreed to do this.  I cannot believe you agreed to do this.”

“Sam's my best friend, Kurt.  And it's too late to back out now.”

Indeed, the music of the previous number was wrapping up, the announcer beginning to speak… beginning to introduce them.

“You so owe me.  He so owes me.  This is going to be a disaster, Blaine.  Look at me; I'm whiter than White Chocolate!”

“You do know I'm standing here, right?” Sam said.  The two men ignored him.

Blaine dragged his gaze up and down his fiancé's body.  Black leather pants hugged his legs and hips perfectly, offset by a rhinestone-studded belt.  As usual, his torso was smooth and pale and toned, his arms lean and muscled and… no, Blaine couldn't see how any of this was a problem.  He opened his mouth to tell him so, but…

“That's it; we're up!”

Kurt sent him one last glare, and then the curtain was parting, and it was Showtime.

Unsurprisingly, the number went off without a hitch.  By the end of it, all three of them were grinning, even Kurt, sweat glistening on his forehead and down his chest.

“Ladies and gentleman, let's hear it again for fan-favorite White Chocolate, accompanied by special guests Porcelain and Nightbird!”

The crowd went wild as they held their poses for a moment more, then ducked back off the stage, following Sam's lead in grabbing towels off a nearby table.  “I still can't believe you used your superhero name for a Burlesque show,” Kurt hissed in his ear.

“I still can't believe how hot you were out there,” Blaine said in return, using his sexiest voice.

Kurt flushed.  “I… I can't move my ass like you.”

“I thought you moved your ass just fine,” Blaine told him, his hand smoothing down the side of Kurt's hip then dipping back and lower, squeezing lightly.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, eyes raking over Blaine's body.

“Right, guys, I really appreciate the help,” Sam said awkwardly, giving them a pointed look.

“Right,” Blaine agreed, his gaze still fixed on Kurt.

“No problem,” Kurt echoed.

“Don't forget you have a dressing room,” Sam reminded them.  “People are staring.”

Blaine looked up and around in amusement, noticing that several of the men in the room were eying them hungrily, as well as a few of the women.  “Which way was that again?”

Sam huffed but pointed, and Blaine felt Kurt's fingers wrapping around his hand, already tugging him in the right direction.

This doesn't seem to be working…

5.       Nudist Colony

“Are you sure we can't leave our underwear on?” Kurt asked, his eyes firmly glued to his best friend's face.

“That kind of defeats the purpose, Kurt,” Rachel said testily, stepping out of the car with her legs pressed tight together and her arms folded in front of her chest.  It was dark already, and there were very few people out on the street, but her eyes still darted around nervously, the same as Kurt's. 

“I'm not getting out,” Kurt said, staying stubbornly in his seat.  “You can tell them I was sick.”

“Oh come on, Kurt, it's just one dinner.  And they're used to it,” Blaine said, kissing him swiftly and then exiting the vehicle himself, discarding his boxers and throwing them back on the seat like it was nothing.

Kurt glared at him, and then at his naked crotch.  “That's mine,” he said firmly.  “Don't forget it.”

Blaine laughed, much to Kurt's irritation.  “Of course, Kurt.  Now hurry up; we're going to be late.”

“The sacrifices I make for the sake of networking,” Kurt muttered under his breath, collecting his courage and tentatively stepping out the door and sliding off his briefs.  “Let's go, then, before I lose my nerve.”

The house was large and elegant—quite lovely, if Kurt was honest.  He might want it for himself if not for the location.  Blaine rang the doorbell, Kurt carefully hovering behind him, and soon enough the door swung open to reveal the naked forms of their middle-aged voice instructor and his wife.  Boobs, Kurt thought, shuddering to himself and tearing his eyes away.

“Kurt, Rachel, Blaine!  How lovely of you to come!”  They were herded inside and to the living room, an elaborately set table visible just through an archway.  Jessica, Professor Sven's wife, brought them all drinks, and Kurt felt himself relaxing as he sipped his and the group settled into conversation.  After some time, a timer went off in the kitchen.

“There's the roast,” Jessica said.  “Why don't you all get settled at the table, and I'll go get it and get Nickolas for dinner.”

They smiled at her graciously and followed Sven into the dining room after she disappeared.  Kurt felt more comfortable once seated at the table, scooting his chair in until only his chest was visible.  He felt Blaine's hand settle just above his knee and glared at him, kicking to the side and catching his shin, but his fiancé only smiled at him in return, his fingers beginning to trail teasingly over the sensitive skin of Kurt's inner thigh.

“Here we are!” Jessica announced, stepping into the room carrying a large beef-roast.  “There's some seared tofu for you, dear,” she said to Rachel with a wink, obviously catching the queasy look that settled over her face at the sight.

Just then a younger man stepped into the room.  He looked to be about their age or maybe younger.  He had his blonde hair arranged in messy spikes, blue eyes and a friendly smile.  Kurt forced himself not to allow his eyes to travel any lower, but saw out of the corner of his eye that Blaine was showing no such restraint.  A wave of red-hot jealously shot through him; he shifted under Blaine's hand and tried to fight it down.

“Rachel, Kurt, Blaine, this is Nikolas, our son.  He'll be applying to NYADA himself for next year.”

“That's great,” Rachel said, offering him a friendly smile.  Kurt made himself do the same, and Blaine actually offered his free hand for him to shake across the table as the boy took his seat.

The meal went smoothly—the food was quite good, the conversation easy and light with everybody laughing and joking.  And Blaine was flirting.  Kurt knew he didn't mean it, that he came by it naturally, but even with Blaine's hand rarely straying from his naked flesh, he couldn't help his growing anger and discomfort.  “Excuse me,” he finally said, interrupting his fiancé mid-sentence.  “Could you point me to the facilities?”

“Of course, dear,” Jessica said.  “Just down the hall where you came in, second door on the left.”

“Thank you,” Kurt replied, pushing his chair away from the table and slipping out of the room as discretely as possible.  He found the bathroom easily and gratefully closed the door behind him, resting against it and breathing deeply.  Approaching the sink, he splashed cold water on his face.  He could do this.  The meal was almost over.

A knock startled him, and he didn't have time to speak before the door was pushing open and Blaine was stepping into the tiny room, shutting it behind him and fixing the lock.

“Blaine, what?”

“Are you alright?  You looked… tense, at dinner.”  He stepped forward, taking Kurt's hand and smoothing his thumb over Kurt's skin, a familiar gesture of comfort.

“You shouldn't have followed me,” Kurt said.  “How will that look?”

Blaine shrugged.  “Who cares?  Something's wrong.  Tell me.”

Kurt sighed, his chest heaving through it as irritation rose up within him.  “It's not like you don't know,” he said, turning his head away to peer into the mirror.

“I know you're not comfortable with this,” Blaine said.  “But we all agreed it would be helpful to accept Professor Albinson's invitation.”

“It's not that,” Kurt all but spit out, Blaine's typical brand of oblivion feeding his annoyance even more.  “You were flirting, Blaine.”

“I… what?  With who?”

“With Nickolas,” Kurt said.  “I saw you look at him.”

“Kurt, that's not…”

“He was checking you out, too.”

“He was checking Rachel out.”

“I'm sure the two of you would just love to—“

“Kurt!  Seriously, shut up and listen to me!”  Blaine was yelling.  Blaine almost never yelled, especially not at him.  “You need to stop doing that,” he said more softly, taking Kurt's hand up in both of his and splaying Kurt's fingers, softly twisting his engagement band.  “You need to trust me when I say I'm only with you.”

“Blaine—“

“Kurt.  I know you know you're being silly, right?  I know I flirt naturally, just as you're a bit possessive naturally…” he smiled, pressing closer until their bodies were touching, thigh to shoulder.  “You know it doesn't mean anything.”

“I'm… sorry,” Kurt said, his breath speeding up at the feel of Blaine's skin against his, his half-hard cock jutting into Kurt's hip.  It was a new thing for him, saying that.  It was something they were working on.

“Thank you,” Blaine said, his mouth now near Kurt's ear.  “But you know, it's really kind of hot…”

“Oh no,” Kurt said.  “We can't do this here Blaine, they'll know.”  But he didn't move away.

Blaine shrugged, the movement dragging his chest sensually against Kurt's own.  “They're nudists.  I'm sure they're pretty casual about those kind of things.”

Kurt opened his mouth to argue again, but Blaine caught it with his own.

FADE TO BLACK

“You know, I do feel obligated to tell you…” Jessica said at the end of the night.  They were standing by the door, about to head out.  “It's not… necessary for guests to forgo clothing.  I mean, it's fine!” she rushed, seeing the alarmed expressions on her guests' faces.  “But it's definitely not expected.”

“Oh,” Rachel squeaked.  “Well, thank you for a lovely evening.”

“Yes, of course, you must all come again sometime,” Sven told them.

“Definitely come again,” Nikolas said, his eyes locked on Rachel's.

The three thanked their hosts again, and then the door closed behind them, silence echoing through the night.

“RESEARCH, Rachel Barbra Berry!” Kurt exclaimed, his face inches from hers, his expression murderous.

Rachel backed away helplessly, her eyes frantically seeking Blaine's.  The shorter man's gaze was glittering with amusement, and he quirked one eyebrow at her.  “I would run,” he suggested.

As it so happens, bare feet are not optimal on a gravel driveway.

So maybe that wouldn't work so well either…

1.       This Can't Should Happen

“Do you think they know we're in here?” Blaine whispered, crowding Kurt up against the sink.

Kurt shook his head.  “The writers think we're sleeping,” he said, pressing their bodies impossibly closer and pulling Blaine in for a kiss.

After a few moments Blaine broke away, panting.  “God, I hate the weeks that they're filming.  Especially that time they let you take your shirt off, Kurt… watching that…” he broke off in a growl, lips attacking Kurt's neck to lick and bite there, his fiancé arching into it.

“I know,” Kurt said.  “And the way your ass was moving that week for everyone to see…”

“You were jealous,” Blaine said, smiling knowingly.

“You know, I think I'm starting to appreciate the fact that half of America covets what's mine.”

Blaine pouted.  “Only half?”

Kurt kissed him again, licking into his mouth and tilting his head back with the force of it.  “They can't have you.”

“Of course not.”

“Get naked.  Now.”

Blaine backed away as Kurt bit hard into the side of his neck, their eyes locking.  “Yes,” he breathed.

They shed their clothes as silently as possible, Kurt cursing when his elbow collided sharply with the edge of the sink.  Blaine bent over to start the water, waiting impatiently for the temperature to get just right as Kurt came up behind him, grabbing his hips and grinding his half-hard cock against his ass.  “Gonna fuck you so good.”

“Mmm,” Blaine said, shifting his hips repeatedly back against him in a mirror of his twerking days.

“Come on,” Kurt said, reaching past him to switch the water to the shower head.  “It's hot enough.”

“You're hot,” Blaine clarified, stepping into the shower and pulling Kurt in after him.  He dropped to his knees immediately, licking over his fiancé's perfect pink nipples before trailing kisses down the smooth, solid expanse of his stomach.  “Can't get enough…”  His lips closed around the head of Kurt's cock, cheeks hollowing as he sucked.  Kurt's hands came up to weave through Blaine's hair, holding him there.

“Did you remember to grab the lube?” he asked hoarsely.

“Better,” Blaine said, reaching up to grab the bottle he'd placed there last week.

“Blaine, that's shampoo,” Kurt argued.

“No it's not.  I cleaned it out and refilled it.  Thought it might come in handy.”

“You're brilliant,” Kurt said, tugging him up and pulling him into a messy kiss, their teeth scraping harshly together.

Blaine beamed.

Kurt's hand snuck around to find his ass, squeezing and dipping his fingers teasingly between Blaine's cheeks.  “Turn around for me?”

Blaine nodded, heeding the instruction and bracing himself against the wall.

“God, your arms like this,” Kurt said, biting down on his bicep.

“They're not like yours.”

“Shut up,” Kurt told him, arms wrapping around his fiancé's torso and one hand finding and stroking his aching cock.  “I don't want you to be like me.”

Blaine stuck his ass out, growing impatient.  “Prep me already.”

“Shh, I will,” Kurt said against his ear, pressing a kiss just below it.  “But you need to remember to be quiet.”

“I'll try,” Blaine amended.

“If they catch us…”

“Damn them and their stupid show; they don't understand that we have sex drives!  Come on, Kurt...”

Kurt's hands shook as he took up the bottle and squeezed some lube onto his fingers, carefully keeping them out of the spray.  He circled Blaine's hole with one slick fingertip, then pressed easily inside.

“Give me two,” Blaine demanded.

“Blaine…”

“Please, Kurt, you know I can take it.”

“Damn,” Kurt said, obliging him and forcing another finger inside.  It was too tight, too much at once, but Blaine pressed back into it eagerly and moaned.  “I don't even need to do anything, do I?”

“Just hold still,” Blaine said, his ass grinding repeatedly onto Kurt fingers.  Kurt scissored and twisted, trying his best to keep his hand in one place and not come on the spot because that ass.

“This shouldn't be legal,” he said, wrapping his free hand around the base of his own cock and squeezing hard.

“It definitely should be,” Blaine panted, groaning when Kurt slid one more finger inside.

“Blaine, I can't wait any more,” Kurt said eventually, his voice near a whine.  He pulled his hand back, instead grabbing onto Blaine's hip to steady him, lining himself up.  “Okay?”

“Do it,” Blaine said, pressing back against him.

One sharp thrust and Kurt was seated inside.  He groaned with the pleasure of it, dropping his head into the crook of Blaine's neck, and began to move.

“God that's good,” Blaine said, his hips falling into rhythm.

“Yeah,” Kurt breathed.  “Probably gonna be quick too.”

“Don't care.  Just… as hard as you can, Kurt.  It's been too damn long.”

“Damn show,” Kurt muttered, allowing his control to slip fully as he pounded into Blaine's ungodly beautiful ass.

“It's just till season six,” Blaine reminded him, his voice shaking with the force of Kurt's thrusts.

“Mmm,” Kurt agreed.  “But they'll want to film the wedding, and that will totally throw off the honeymoon.”

“We won't tell them about the honeymoon,” Blaine said.  “FUCK KURT RIGHT THERE!”

“Shhh!” Kurt said harshly, easily maintaining the angle.  “They'll hear you.”

“So let them.  Our fans will be thrilled.”

Kurt chuckled against Blaine's neck.  “Give ‘em a real show.  Gonna come soon; you're making me move so fast.”  He smoothed over the little trail of hair on Blaine's stomach and grabbed ahold of his cock, fisting it frantically.

“Yeah, baby, just like that,” Blaine said, his hips working with abandon.  “God Kurt, you're so perfect so good at this fuck…”

“Love how you babble,” Kurt said, kissing his neck and not even bothering with a lecture on his noise level.  “Love how your ass feels taking my cock.”

“Come in me Kurt please I need you too I need…”

“Blaine!” Kurt cried, teeth sinking into his fiance's shoulder as he spilled hot inside of him.  He felt Blaine jerk forward and then he was coming as well, come smearing across Kurt's hand and all over the shower wall, ass clenching around him and drawing out his orgasm painfully.  “Fuck,” he said when it was over, allowing his weight to sag fully onto Blaine.

“Mmm,” Blaine said.  “I kinda wanna sleep now.”

“We're in the shower,” Kurt pointed out.  “We have to shower first.”

Blaine sighed.  “Yeah, gotta be clean for filming in the morning.”

Kurt laughed, pulling back and grasping Blaine's arm to tug him around.  “Gotta be clean for filming now,” he said, pointing to a camera that was hidden in the upper corner of the shower, just out of reach of the spray.

“They're filming us?!” Blaine said in alarm, his face falling into a deep frown.

“No,” Kurt said.  “I am.”

“Oh.  Oh.”

Kurt leaned over and kissed him. 

Screw the Glee crew.  He and Blaine were going to enjoy a long, leisurely, naked night.