“Blaine?” Kurt tilts his head slightly to the left as his eyes flutter shut, giving his husband more room to lay kisses across his skin. “When do you think they'll notice that we're gone?”

“Hmm?” Blaine hums against Kurt's neck while he thinks, his fingers busy slipping buttons through their holes, carefully peeling Kurt's shirt from his torso. “Well, there's about three hundred people at the restaurant downstairs…”

“I know,” Kurt cuts in with a guilty whine, “celebrating our anniversary.”

Blaine smiles. Kurt can feel it against his skin as Blaine places a trail of tiny purple marks along his collarbone.

“They'll forgive us.” Blaine's hands make their way down to Kurt's waist, tugging up the hem of his undershirt and pulling it gently over Kurt's head.

“And if…and if they don't?” Kurt's voice falters a bit when Blaine continues the rain of kisses down his chest.

“Then too bad.” Blaine stands to meet his husband eye to eye, Kurt's stormy-blue irises blowing wide kiss after kiss. Blaine turns to the room service cart by his hip and with his middle finger he scoops up a dollop of ganache from a silver bowl. Kurt watches, his breath quickening as his husband slips the finger between his lips, moaning when Kurt licks and sucks the icing off. “Dinner was for them,” Blaine says, kissing Kurt's lower lip and chasing the taste of chocolate on his tongue, “but dessert is for us.”