“Blaine you asshole!”

Blaine grinned into his phone as he set his messenger bag and coffee down at a table. He’d been expecting this call from the moment he’d parted from Kurt outside the airport, kissing him breathless against the side of the car, nuzzling into his throat.

“Miss me already, darling?”

“You can’t just do that!” Kurt’s voice was high, scandalized, but Blaine could hear the fond amusement beneath the righteous indignation. So it had been the right choice then.

“And what is it exactly that I can’t do?”

“You jerked off into my sheets!”

Blaine let a feral grin curve his mouth, showing just the sharp tips of his canines, and the woman who’d been eying him from a few tables over squeaked and looked away.

“Twice, actually.” Blaine rubbed his fingertips against the grain of the wooden table as Kurt made a little grunting noise from deep in his throat. Blaine wished he could be there to sink his teeth into that soft, pale skin and find the source of that sound.

“My whole room smells like your come now. Like you. It’s like,” there was a pause and Blaine could just see the wheels turning in Kurt’s head. He sank a bit lower in his chair, savoring the slightly elevated breaths coming through the phone, picturing Kurt’s face as the realization dawned on him, equal parts outraged and aroused.

“Oh my god you scent-marked my bed!”

Blaine heard a gentle rustling and knew that Kurt was running his hand over the ruined sheets, fingertips catching on the drying stains. He closed his eyes, remembering the five glorious minutes he’d spent rolling himself in Kurt’s bed, rubbing his face and body over everything before they’d left for the airport. And not just Kurt’s bed.

“You can’t do that. Your scent is everywhere. On everything. My roommate is going to come back and John is going to…”

At the sound of that name a growl ripped out of Blaine’s throat, knocking Kurt into silence. The woman a few tables over flushed and fumbled with the glass in her suddenly shaking hands. Blaine didn’t care who heard him.

“He was in your bed.” Blaine could just see the shudder that wracked Kurt’s body at the low, dangerous tone of his voice. His nails dug into the table, leaving half-moon marks.

“I could smell him in your bed.”

“Sitting,” Kurt protested weakly. “Watching a movie. He wouldn’t…he knows that you’re…”

“He doesn’t get to be anywhere near your bed. And now he knows it.” Hot satisfaction coursed through Blaine, prickling along his skin. He thought of John entering the dorm he shared with Kurt, how the smell of Blaine would be like a physical blow, maybe knocking him back a few steps. How he would grimace every time he touched the doorknob.

“Kurt,” he said, his voice barely above a growl. A warning. A command. “Do not wash those sheets.”

Blaine heard more rustling and knew that Kurt was crawling into his bed. He ached to think of Kurt rubbing himself against the sheets that Blaine had marked so thoroughly.

“Until when?”

“Until I see you again.”

Kurt swallowed audibly and sweet sound sent shivers down Blaine’s spine. His hand clenched into a fist involuntarily, nails digging sharp into his own palm.

“Two months?” Kurt’s voice was shaky.

“I expect you to smell of me when I see you,” he growled. Me and no one else went unspoken.

Kurt groaned, low and broken, and Blaine tried not to think of what Kurt was doing with the hand not holding the phone. His flight had been called and he did not have time for this.

“Yes,” Kurt panted. “Yes of course.”

“Good. I’ll call you when I land in Ohio.”

“Uh-huh.”

Blaine laughed and ended the call with a quick love you that Kurt was too far gone to answer. He gathered up his things to head for the boarding gate. As he passed between the tables, he let his messenger bag brush up against the woman who’d been eavesdropping on his entire conversation. There was a quiet gasp and the unmistakable crash of a dropped glass. Blaine smiled.