“D-daddy? P-papa?” Tracy mutters in a groggy, sniffly voice. “C-can I sleep with you?”

“Hey, Bun-Bun,” Blaine says, watching his daughter rub her eye with the heel of her hand. “What’s up? Can’t sleep?”

“N-no,” she says, dragging her oversized, sparkly purple teddy bear – one of her favorite gifts from her mother - into the room, with Brian close behind. “I---I had … I had a nightmare.”

“Oh, love,” Kurt coos. “Did you really?”

“A-ha! I heard … sc-scary growling … and m-moaning,” Tracy whimpers. “I thought … I thought you were in pain, Papa! Like something was … was eating you alive!”

“Trying,” Blaine mutters. Kurt reaches back a hand and slaps his husband on the shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m alright. See? Not hurt in the slightest. But why don’t you come here and tell us all about it.” Kurt opens his arms to his baby girl while Blaine shoots him a look. Because where Tracy goes, Brian goes, too, and even though they have a king size bed with plenty of room for everybody, Brian’s a kneader. He kneads constantly. And one of his favorite places to do his kneading is on Blaine’s stomach, with the full extent of his ten pound, hot-as-an-oven kitty body lying on Blaine’s crotch.

Which leads to problem number two.

There’s the small matter of Kurt and Blaine both being stark naked that Kurt hasn’t seemed to factor into the equation.

“Don’t you think it might be better if Bun-Bun tells us all about it in her room?” Blaine asks in a tight voice. “I think there’s a couple of things you’re forgetting.”

“Nonsense.” Kurt wraps his right arm around Tracy’s body while simultaneously shoving Blaine’s underwear and sleep pants behind him with the other. “I’ve got myself under wraps, so to speak. So why don’t you scurry off to the bathroom and take care of yourself?”

Blaine brushes Kurt’s ass while he collects his things and feels soft cotton fabric already covering his body.

“How the heck …”

Kurt puts a finger up to shush his husband, his daughter falling fast asleep in his arms the second her head hit the pillow.

“… do you do that?” Blaine finishes in a whisper as he backs off the bed, covering his privates with the handful of his clothes.

“I’m superhuman,” Kurt says, brushing stray hairs from Tracy’s buns away from her face so that they don’t tickle her awake. “You said so yourself a second ago.”

“About that …” Blaine lets the sentence drop, forcing Kurt to peek over his shoulder. Kurt raises a brow when he sees Blaine’s boxer briefs hanging off his still erect cock.

“There’s a fleshjack underneath the sink. Like I said, take care of yourself.”

“You’re a cruel man, Kurt.”

“Well, it’s about to get worse,” Kurt gripes in a singsong voice so as not to alarm his peacefully sleeping daughter. “Seeing as I was in the same condition a second ago and had to kill it with thoughts of last week’s school field trip to the recycling center, I’m only giving you three minutes to get it done.”

“And if I don’t?” Blaine asks, seeing an opportunity to take a leisurely hour in the bathroom for himself. It was Kurt’s inability to keep quiet that got them into this mess after all. Why not exploit the consequences?

“Then I’m hiding all of your toys, and you’re not cumming again for a week.”

Blaine nods. “Gotcha. Three minutes. I’ll be right …”

“Two minutes.”

“Kurt!”

“Shhh!”