This is different, Kurt thinks.

He throws his leg up in a high kick and can't help the uninvited vision that flashes.

It's a strange, even if not completely unfamiliar one of him dancing in front of a huge anonymous crowd instead; the spotlights blinding his sight and blocking out a countless mass of faces, and anything else beyond the stage.

Kurt blows his breath out of his nose.

He can't really say where that's just come from, but for the fraction of a second Kurt ponders, if that setting would actually make it easier on him.

Or even more difficult.

He suppresses the impulse to shake his head.

Well, he'll probably never know, anyway.

He brings his hands up above his head with a tilt of his chin.

He's done this, has danced and performed for rather small audiences before. Like, all the time, really.

Sometimes he knew those people, sometimes he didn't. And most of the times he was even close enough to read their reactions to what he presented them with in their very expressions right away.

He steps forward bringing his forearms together, pointing to the ring finger of his left.

Still, this here is different. Vastly. A whole new category of different.

And not just because he isn't singing, but only dancing right now.

The way Blaine is looking at him...

Kurt swallows, then smiles and slaps his thigh with a playful look, running his other hand shortly through his hair, and blushes some more just for good measure.

Yes, the phrase 'intimate audience interaction' gets an entirely new depth of meaning with this.

And Kurt would lie if he said that it wasn't quite scary as well.

He turns to the side for the next move, presenting Blaine with his profile.

Kurt knew he would be self-conscious. That part he has expected.

What he hasn't been expecting, is the other things, that this would do to him.

He takes in a breath and twirls around to dance back to the center of his room, the music playing at moderate volume.

So far he's gone about it as he had thought: Making a complete show of it, mouthing along the lyrics with a cocked eyebrow, and the appropriate diva attitude on display. It's all over his face and in the ironically overdone choreography.

But even through all the dramatic exaggeration and the hammering of his heart, he makes sure to perform the moves with a verve that certifies that he's got them down to minute precision.

Not the time to get sloppy, now, after all.

Kurt grins.

He hasn't put on the unitard, though.

Instead he quickly changed into a tight black shirt to his skinny jeans, when they got here. Still he feels it has the effect that he aimed at. Judging by Blaine's wide dark eyes when Kurt stepped out of the bathroom.

Kurt turns to face Blaine again.

And of course Kurt feels hot. Actually in more ways than one.

The entire thing is not even two minutes long, but it is quite a workout.

But on top of that, it's the way Blaine sits on the very edge of Kurt's bed, watching and bringing his hand up to rub erratically at his neck, that has Kurt feeling... really good.

He wouldn't say powerful, but well... worth looking at. To say the least.

Oh oh oh, oh oh oh, oh ohoh...

Kurt waves and shakes his hands at Blaine at this part of the choreography, giving him time to lock his eyes to his boyfriend's for a moment.

And yes, what he sees in them makes his heart beat speed up even harder in his chest. For all that it is.

He swallows quickly, but keeps his features smooth.

Oh oh oh, oh oh oh, oh ohoh...

The chorus is about to hit again, and that means this little dance will shortly reach the part that he has been dreading all along.

Because that next move was not performed in the video Blaine saw. Well not like this, that is.

It has... developed after some recommending input from Brittany, and Kurt thinks, it might be one of the main attributes that makes this updated performance, well, steer towards x-rated.

He takes in a sharp breath.

Oh, yes, he's debating chickening out, definitely.

But he still brings himself to recall that piece of pep-talk he's been preparing himself with silently, mantra-like, all the while since they drove here:

Kurt, you promised to show Blaine privately. So now be a professional, and give the man something for his money.

And reliably as before, that succeeds in making Kurt bites his lip, inwardly grinning at himself.

The melody changes. And then Kurt just does it.

He rolls his hips. In a way that would have Santana blushing.

Well, not blushing. Cheering, probably.

He actually doesn't dare to look at Blaine for a second, though. But he can just imagine that his boyfriend probably wasn't expecting something like that.

To be honest, Kurt rather surprises himself with going through with it.

He knows it's one naughty move, and he couldn't make it decent even if he tried. So he doesn't.

Instead he wills down his hammering heart and grins wickedly all through and despite his heavy blush, raising his eyebrows in a mock innocent manner, pursing his lips and giving it his all. And showing off quite some flexibility in the process, he assumes.

No, knows. Because he's done that in front of his mirror, and he blushed and burst into laughter at his reflection.

And just like then he's actually laughing now, stumbling through his lip syncing, furrowing his brow in a mock sexy glare, by this rate grinning at Blaine again.

He supposes Blaine is laughing, too, behind the hand he has brought up to cover his mouth.

Kurt shimmies his shoulders next and is quite aware the movement is one that affects the entire body, and therefore accentuates his last hip roll just perfectly. He smiles.

Blaine seems aware, too, as he is positively staring by now. Not into Kurt's eyes, though. Not nearly.

I got gloss on my lips...

Kurt drops down on one knee, gesturing sweetly to his face and mouth along the lyrics with a grin, because he actually meets Blaine's gaze on that height level here, where his boyfriend has been staring for the last couple of seconds.

Blaine hides behind both his hands now, smiling lopsidedly at Kurt through his fingers at getting caught.

Kurt laughs and slaps his behind to the next line, then rubs the assumedly sore spot with a grimace, and rises to dive into the next set of moves.

He puts his hands on his hips, throws his hair back out of his face in that trademark tilt, then kicks the tempo up once more for the chorus. Kurt does not repeat the same rolling of his hips as before, but works them in a sequence of different kicks and twists that seems to have its own appeal as well.

At least he strongly suspects so, when he checks back in a glance at Blaine.

Spurred on, he resumes to put his all into some high kicks and shoulder rolls for the finale.

So that by the time he ends the performance with the pose of pointing at the ring finger of his raised hand, his chest is heaving, hard, working to find a rhythm for his breath again.

So is Blaine's. Out of pure compassion, Kurt supposes. He supresses a chuckle. Well, maybe out of something more, as well.

And Blaine is beaming at Kurt. Kurt impulsively narrows his eyes at him:

"Blaine. You said you wouldn't laugh!" It is a half-hearted accusation coming a little late, and more out of his need to say something, anything, really. Kurt falters and lets his hands sink down.

In the sudden silent absence of music, he's feeling all flushed and flustered, and quite self-conscious, pointing a finger at his boyfriend to distract from his own slightly shaking knees as he walks the few steps to the bed.

Blaine solemnly raises his hands in defence, and the closer Kurt gets the better he can see how Blaine's cheeks and neck are covered by the most thorough blush as well.

"I'm not laughing at you... This is really no laughing matter. I'm grinning from... pure elation, I guess..."

Kurt arches one eyebrow at Blaine's twitching smile, and steps up close to him, bringing a foot in between Blaine's, kind of straddling one bent leg, but not making contact other than the occasional nudge from one of his knees against his boyfriend's.

He still feels the after effects of the adrenaline pulse through him, and he really can't quite stand still yet.

At his sudden nearness, though, the grin on Blaine's face changes into something that finds its answer deep down in Kurt's stomach. He tilts his head at Blaine.

"Elation." He repeats Blaine's choice of word with mock doubt, a smile tugging at his lips.

Blaine turns a lopsided smile of his own and bottomless eyes up at him, and Kurt's heart stumbles.

"Kurt I'm nervous, my brain doesn't work as it should. I'm nervous, that's why I'm laughing."

Kurt watches Blaine's lashes flutter. Lashes so long and smooth, they almost seem to reach at Blaine's eyebrows, with the way he angles his head to look at Kurt.

Kurt's gut tingles, but despite the butterfies in his insides, he finds a slow sly smile has spread on his features. Something about the way he is standing...

"Why would you be nervous...?" And where does that light purring sound in his voice come from all of a sudden?

Blaine's glance flickers down involuntarily, making both of them acutely aware of how Kurt's posture brings his hips distractingly close to Blaine's eye level. Kurt has his body swaying a little in the most casual way.

Blaine gasps, slowly shaking his head as if to clear it a bit, and he looks up at Kurt with wide eyes. Kurt chuckles.

"Why, don't be nervous, I won't harm you, I promise...Look at me, do I look like I mean harm?"

At that something sparks in Blaine's expression and a smile flashes across his features, a hint of distant disbelief and amusement in it.

"Mm. God, Kurt. You're enjoying that, aren't you..."

Kurt's hand actually rises up to ghost a caress along Blain's forehead, pushing an imaginary strand away, brushing at his hairline, but never making contact with skin.

"Hm, tell me you aren't." More of that purr. And that chuckle. This all comes way too easily to him, Kurt marvels at himself.

Blaine takes a breath and leans back a little, supporting his weight with his hands propped up on the mattress. His Adam's apple bops slightly as he swallows, head and neck bent back.

"I won't... tell you that." It is only a tinge of hoarse. But it still sends a shiver all along Kurt's skin, that reaches as a light tremble into his voice:

"That's what I thought..."

Blaine swallows again, then shakes his head at Kurt, that awe-filled smile even deepening:

"Wow, you really look smug right now." Kurt gives a half-snort:

"And rightfully so, I believe...What do you think?" Let's face it. Somewhere along it all Kurt Hummel has become quite the... tease. Kurt suppresses a grin at the thought.

Blaine's head is still shaking in that dreamy trance-like fashion, eyes locked to Kurt's.

"I don't."

"You don't?" There, again. Kurt tilts his head in mock indignation, never breaking their gaze, either.

"I don't think." Blaine finalizes, and brings one hand impulsively forward to touch Kurt, but halts midway, and lets it fall to his own lap instead.

"Oh, I see. Overrated, anyway." Kurt chuckles lightly, but his voice trails off. He has followed Blaine's movement with a glance, and now searches his eyes to find out what has made his boyfriend stop.

"Mh." Blaine draws out the syllable, and Kurt can trace the low quiver in the throaty noise, and see its echo in the depths of Blaine's wide hazel eyes, and a tardy thought takes shape:

Blaine really seems nervous. He said he was, but still... Does he really expect Kurt to lead trough this?

Kurt blinks. It is unusual, but then again... not, really.

Because if he thinks about it, then, in their strange way, it has always been Kurt setting the pace for their relationship. By stopping, retreating, or going along with Blaine's tentative offers.

But never did Kurt actively put it out in the open himself, like this before.

He blinks again. No wonder his boyfriend is nervous.

Kurt wiggles a little at the feeling that the idea gives him, rocking on the balls of his feet. And it's more a playful move, like that of a child not wanting to stand still anymore.

Yet the motion brings their legs to nudge at each other again, and at the ripple that runs through him, Kurt has to remind himself that it is technically only knees touching, and that his kind of reaction can hardly be appropriate.

Still heat surges in him at that littlest of contacts, the sheer swaying of his hips having the fabric of his jeans rub at all the right places, and Kurt doesn't know if it's the heightened focus of the situation, of this moment, but Blaine looks quite aware as well.

"Blaine?" Blaine meets his eyes, looking up at him again at the sound.

"Yes?" Blaine rolls the syllable, and there's a sudden need in Kurt to just pull his boyfriend up, or sink down into a kiss.

But some part of his mind seems to have a different plan, as his body just won't move.

"Blaine, you may put your hands on me..." - a soft laugh, and Kurt finds it's his own - "... in my skin tight jeans... if you want to..." He wavers only slightly.

And mostly in the face of all the emotions flooding Blaine's gaze at his words. So many, so much, and the things they do to Kurt.

The silence between them fills, hums with eyes growing wider, darker, with pupils that dilate and stares that deepen in a stretched kind of time.

Then Blaine reaches out. And he lays his hand gently onto the backside of Kurt's thigh, a little above his knee.

Every muscle of Kurt's body tenses under the touch.

Blaine is simply making contact, not moving yet, but Kurt can trace the outline of each finger just by their warmth on him.

He takes in a sharp breath.

Come on, Kurt, hands have brushed there before, casually and in passing during make out sessions, calm down a little.

He swallows. But this is different, this time the touch has purpose, a decided one. On both ends.

Kurt feels a wave of dizziness roll through him, at the way Blaine's look is fixed on his face and every reaction, while he drags his hand up in the slowest of movements, applying the lightest of pressures.

And Kurt just stands. Just stands there for his boyfriend to touch him, arms dangling loosely by his side, fingers curling and relaxing in absent minded repetition.

No other contact he shares with the boy in front of him, but that haphazard brush of thumb against Blaine's forearm, once Blaine's hand has wandered high enough. And then that palm. Those long slender fingers stroking up Kurt's leg.

Kurt feels anchored in that touch, and on a deeper level, in their connection of wide and open eyes, giving and taking, reaching out and sinking into each other, binding them through it.

He hears himself make another sound, inhaling, and watches more of that stunned amazement flash across his boyfriend's face.

Blaine seems to have forgotten to keep breathing.

A tense white knuckled hand jerks into a fist, only to unfurl again, when Blaine's caress reaches the crease in his jeans, where Kurt's thigh merges into the curve of his ass.

Kurt's entire frame strains with the sensation, the tingle that seems to spread from that expanse of skin beneath fabric, where shy fingers trace the outline of his muscle.

Blaine doesn't dare rise higher, but drags his hand around over Kurt's hip, pressure increasing slightly, almost kneading along, passing, and then Blaine breaks their eye-lock to stare down.

And Kurt doesn't want to ponder too much where exactly he is staring.

He feels how Blaine's thumb reverently follows the line of his waistband, then dips in, barely, but the tip catching on most sensitive skin.

For a moment, Kurt's head falls back, lids closing.

He breathlessly snaps up again a moment later, at the sensation of too much, at the overload of all of his senses' capacities narrowing in on only that one channel of touch on his hip. The intensity just seems too much to take, and he opens his eyes again, resumes to let them linger on Blaine's face.

The sweetest distraction.

Blaine's wonderful, expressive features. Speaking of awe and affection and so much more that makes Kurt shiver to the core. Loading his body's want with longings of a deeper origin.

Blaine's hand pushes farther, shoving up Kurt's shirt a little to draw lines of light pressure into his belly.

Losing his balance, or himself to a notion just like it, Kurt shifts his weight on his feet, but then finds thankful grip in Blaine's second hand on his side, digging in.

Blaine's fingers on Kurt's abdomen are venturing, the ones of his right hand curling into the belt loops of Kurt's jeans, tugging indistinctly just by closing the fist.

And Kurt almost jumps at how the material passes on the pull, fabric straining over his groin, his cock aching for attention already, although Blaine hands never go there.

Oh god. No, he just won't go there.

Blaine's hands get close, but only to draw back, gripping firmly at Kurt's hips again, stroking up and down their sides.

Kurt breath hitches and he narrows his eyes impulsively at his boyfriend. Because, really, who is being the tease right now...

But Blaine never notices, oblivious, lost in his own stare too intent on the exposed sliver of skin just above Kurt's waistband. Kurt gasps at the sight.

Yes, they have turned each other on before.

But this is here is different, this is practically right before his boyfriend's face to see. Kurt groans. And why did he have to think that now? He bites his lip.

He can't just come in his pants like this right in front of his boyfriend. He can't, couldn't... Could he...

A growl turns into another groan. But with the spiralling intensity building up inside, and Blaine's eyes on him, this seems to be exactly where this is headed.

Kurt swallows. It's time to reverse this thing again.

He'd only need to bring himself to... only... move, Kurt. Just move.

It takes a lot, but he finds the strength to make it.

One shaky hand supports his weight lightly at Blaine's shoulder, while Kurt kneels down almost on the edge of the bed, straddling his boyfriend's lap in a wide stance, so that he can sit on Blaine's knees, their hips far from each other. For now.

Because he just knows where it would end, and quickly, if he'd brought them in close enough to make contact.

Like this, it is only the backs of his thighs resting on Blaine's knees, and he lowers his body, bending to be able to reach and grabs Blaine's hands.

With a smile, and gaining confidence again, he places them on his hips once more, nothing short of loving their feel on there by now, and lets his own lay on top for a moment, to emphasize that he wants them kept there. To steady him.

And Blaine obliges, because the next instant, Kurt leans in to kiss him.

Kurt's hand traces along the neckline of Blaine's shirt, not unlike Blaine's before at his waistband, slipping one finger underneath, and relishing Blaine's shiver.

Then he makes his hand into a tight fist around the cotton, giving himself a grip, when he pulls his boyfriend closer to him.

Blaine readily leans forward to meet him, yet Kurt halts just in front of his boyfriend's lips, breaths mingling for a second. And then the first touch is the gentlest, belying that firm hold on Blaine's shirt, in the most enticing contrast.

Blaine immediately gets that this is Kurt in charge now, and sinks into the caress, humming agreement, just keeping his mouth there, breathless, as Kurt's ghosts over the contours of his lips, taking his time with a line of open mouthed butterfly kisses to the sensitive corners of Blaine's mouth.

His nose nudges against Blaine's prompting to open parted lips further, hovering, lingering, baiting... only to then draw back lightly, and return.

All the while Kurt's hand is at Blaine's collar, tugging and kneading trembling muscle beneath, the other drawing lines along Blaine's jaw, pulling him against Kurt's lips by the mere pressure of fingertips finding the friction of a light stubble of hair.

Still the ministrations of Kurt's mouth seem to counter the course of those determined hands. They stay restraint, fluttering, fleeting... ever so gentle, even when Kurt starts to suck leisurely at Blaine's bottom lip, dragging over it with a slowness that takes all Blaine has, he can tell.

The sounds Blaine makes into his mouth...

Kurt has liked kissing Blaine, from the very start. And their kisses have gotten heated before, but yet again, never quite like this...

This now is all subdued seduction and measured slowness, and there lies a mighty appeal, where he didn't suspect it, Kurt marvels.

Because he would never have thought that a set of caresses soft like that could have such an impact on him.

But he can feel that massive current of heat and drive and passion flowing underneath, and every movement brimming with it.

And by now, even the littlest among their moves sends a surge of pleasure all along his skin. And straight down to his cock.

His attention pooling lower for an instant, he becomes aware, that he has been rocking his hips in unconscious circles, entire body working to the rhythm of the kiss, to some inward feel of pace.

He gasps and realizes that Blaine has somehow fallen in to join him in that rhythm, mumbling and moaning softly into Kurt's mouth, each time Kurt's thighs rub along his knees.

Kurt chuckles and brings his hand on Blaine's jaw up between their kiss. Blaine opens his eyes dark and hazy, searching Kurt's for his intentions.

But Kurt just keeps their foreheads together, gentle stare alternating between Blaine's eyes and lips, as he begins to lightly traces their form with his forefinger now.

A jolt runs through him as Blaine moves forward to try and kiss Kurt's finger, skin making a fleeting wet contact with teeth beneath lips, cooling under Blaine's breath the next instant.

A shudder follows the jolt at this little gesture, as Kurt's mind grasps and catches up on it, and Kurt places a peck of endearment on Blaine's mouth in an impulse, not minding his finger between them.

Yet when Blaine opens his mouth to the kiss, and his tongue comes to press shortly against the flesh of the fingertip, it is Kurt who breaks the contact with a voiceless shout. Mind and purpose wiped blank for a second he just stares wide eyed, trying to sort through thoughts that are none.

Then he watches his finger resume its caress over the smooth texture of Blaine's bottom lip, swallows, then repeats it in a few reverent strokes.

When skin catches on skin, it's only an instinctive impulse that hits. Heeding its command Kurt drags Blaine's lip lightly down in the movement, and laps one single slow swipe of his tongue up across his boyfriend's parted mouth.

Blaine freezes, moans, his hands on Kurt hips tightening in a jerk, and then he stammers breathlessly against Kurt's mouth. It's incoherent at first, and Kurt pulls back with a low snicker, his voice needing a second try as well to obey him: "What?"

Blaine angles his head trying to get closer again:

"I said, god, Kurt, stop, or... or I'll come in my pants from kissing you alone..."

Kurt blinks. Once. Twice.

Heat shoots up into his cheeks, stealing his breath, but what he does next takes himself by surprise as well.

"You want me to stop?" He whispers the words and in the same instant finds himself already off Blaine's lap, taking two steps back from the bed, to turn dark and sparkling eyes at his boyfriend. He has no idea where the strength to manage that has come from, his knees feeling more than a little shaky under his weight and this decision.

Blaine doesn't even protest. Not in so much words. He just looks utterly puzzled, eyes clouded for a second, hands raised in the air, where Kurt has slipped out of their embrace.

Kurt feels a pang that is half guilt half heat again at the sight, and he bites his lip.

Then Blaine's eyes wander up across the distance and their gazes meet. Then lock.

It takes one fluttering blink of lashes, and then Blaine is in front of Kurt, groping at his neck, dragging him down into a kiss that is not at all slow or restrained.

And Kurt can't help, won't, but indulges him for a breathless moment, if that can even be the word, ever, when kissing Blaine.

Kurt's insides squirm in glory with the hunger in that kiss, but somehow he uses his hands and body to angle and prompt and coax Blaine forward, backward, until Blaine's back makes contact with the wall beside Kurt's book shelf.

Kurt never pushes Blaine against the cool of the wallpaper, not even presses against him with an emphasis matching their kiss. But still Blaine utters a gasp of a sound like all air suddenly has left his lungs.

Kurt breaks away from the lock of their lips and meets wide eyes, and with the way the two of them are standing becomes aware of their slight height difference more than he usually does. He smiles. It just fits perfectly.

And then he's kissing Blaine again, a bit in the same fashion as before on his bed, even if it gets a mewl from Blaine at the sudden step back in tempo and obvious force, but Kurt puts one hand up to cup Blaine's jaw in it and lets the other rest lightly on his chest.

He leans in onto his boyfriend, still taking care that he keeps his own hips at a distance, which gets another breathy sound from Blaine, and isn't really an easy task, because by now some part of his boyfriend's mind taking over seems intent on getting some friction and spur this along, having him bucking up his hips against Kurt.

Still through it all, he lets himself be held back and in place at the wall by such little a gesture as Kurt's hand on his chest, and Kurt falls more in love for that opposition alone.

Kurt growls low in his throat and kisses Blaine harder, finally skipping the baiting, because by now he is himself so far gone and invested into it all, that only a small part of his mind fights to keep up that game of holding back a little longer.

The way Blaine keens his name and grips uselessly at his hips again in shaky demands... too much, too good, so much to take, and Kurt fast forwards to the part, that has made his heart tumble before and his cock ache with the sheer shameless sensuality of it.

He licks in generous languid strokes across Blaine's mouth, urging it open with nudges and caresses, diving into the cavity and across teeth and lips, joining in on the moans, lapping Blaine inside out, while Kurt's own mind dissolves just as surely at the thrilling obscenity of that kind of kissing.

And just then, when he thinks his own knees are about to give out under him, he knows he can't take it any longer, doesn't want to drag this out anymore, and lets his weight settle against Blaine, bringing his hips in, rolling them once, twice, and a third time against Blaine's in time with the rough licks of his tongue.

Each thrust is like blacking out after the long build up of much too little contact, and then Blaine makes a sound that echoes all through Kurt and he starts to shake against him, and Kurt's mind isn't really catching up with what is actually happening, but his body doesn't seem to care, following Blaine, coming hard in his pants against the drive of their hips into each other, so fast, so soon, but finally, at last, over due and so long in the making after this evening of prelude.

Blaine slumps a little against the wall, and Kurt tardily thinks to hold him up, using his embrace and his own momentary dead weight leaning against him.

And then, for a prolonged moment, there's only breath and breathing, and catching up and calming down.

Somewhere in the vast of Kurt's mind a practical voice pipes up, that they should stop doing this and start getting naked when getting off together, and be it just for the sake of his laundry.

But right now, Kurt can't really bring himself to mind. He buries his face in the crook of Blaine's shoulder and just drinks in the scent of him, salty tinge of skin warm beneath his lips, slack muscles there vibrating with the loose embrace they still wrap around Kurt's hips.

Seconds or even minutes, Kurt doesn't really know how much time has passed, when suddenly Blaine's voice is at his ear, a little ginger and raw:

"Kurt, I really need to sit..." Kurt reluctantly pulls back a little.

That thought does make sense to some part of his brain as well, and he looks at Blaine, and his boyfriend doesn't just slouch down against the wall like Kurt expects for a second, but takes the few shaky steps towards the bed.

He sits down, then actually lets himself fall back onto the covers.

Kurt stares after him for a moment, then follows, aligns himself next to Blaine's reclined form, and props himself up on one elbow to watch that beautifully flushed face, sure his own complexion shines just as much with that sheen of sweat and after glow and coming down.

He becomes aware that his Beyoncé playlist has been playing along all this time.

Which is probably for the better, he muses tardily, because if even if it's rather early, and Burt's and Carole's favourite program is still on, the music should have drowned out most of the noises that could have made Burt come up and knock on the door to check on them.

Kurt closes his eyes. His dad allows him that grey area of trust, knowing they spend time alone together, as long as his curfews and rules are not infringed into his face. It's a strange and wordless agreement between them, one of respect but responsibility. On both sides.

Kurt stretches beside Blaine and lets out a long breath, then finds himself humming along to the song wordlessly.

It takes some more minutes until Blaine actually speaks, opening his eyes and searching Kurt's.

"Kurt, just... where... and when did you learn to be like that?" His voice is still a little rough, but full of adoration and a tinge of flattering disbelief.

Kurt chuckles and cocks an eyebrow at his boyfriend, giving a coy shrug that belies all the flash backs of this evening that still keep replaying themselves at the edges of his mind: "I don't know...Just now?"

The sound Blaine makes is something between a groan and a sigh, but his eyes are sparkling as he shakes his head at Kurt with slow humour:

"I am a doomed man."

At that, all that Kurt can do is grin.