There was only one coherent thought circulating through Kurt's brain: Blaine was ridiculously hot when he was drunk. Even though his boyfriend was flapping his arms around and grinding with Puck and Santana in the middle of the basement, he was still gorgeous. Or maybe, the three shots of vodka were convincing him that Blaine's intoxication was the single, most, sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

"Balla con me, piccolo."

["Dance with me, baby."]

Blaine had stumbled over while Artie was picking a new song to blast through the basement. His hands tugged Kurt's face down a few inches and into a sloppy, wet kiss. Kurt moaned against Blaine's lips as the taste of tequila invaded his mouth. He'd been half- hard in his pants for the past twenty minutes while he watched Blaine dance, but he hadn't trusted himself to be able to walk over and join him with his brain buzzing so much. Otherwise, him and Blaine would be naked by now. The kiss was rough, and tasted like the half dozen types of alcohol Blaine had consumed in the past few hours, but, fuck, he didn't care. Blaine's hands trailed down his shoulders and sides, finally settling on his hip bones and tugging him forward until they were pressed together.

The heavy thump of a new song started reverberating around the room as Kurt was slammed backwards against the wall. He was already trembling as Blaine's teeth tugged his lower lip into his mouth. His head dropped back against the wall as Blaine's mouth moved to his neck. It didn't matter than the entirety of New Directions was all within a ten foot radius of them, Blaine's mouth was sucking a bruise into his pulse point, his teeth scraping sharply over his skin as he thrust his hips forward.

If Kurt hadn't been so drunk he would have been completely humiliated by the embarrassingly loud moan that slipped past his lips. But between the alcohol flooding through his veins, making his face numb and flushed, and the loud music, he didn't think anyone had heard him. One of the buttons on his shirt pattered across the floor as Blaine ripped his shirt open. The air was cool against his flushed skin as Blaine's lips sucked at his collarbone, teeth biting down hard enough to leave little indents in his flesh. A hot, avid tongue pressed against his sternum and dragged up his chest to his throat, leaving a wet trail of saliva on his skin. He gasped breathlessly, his hips jerking forward instinctively so their cocks could slide together through the thick material of their pants. Warm hands slid into his open shirt, tracing over his sides and drawing him closer as Blaine's fingers dug possessively into his skin.

" Sei cos� fottutamente meraviglioso," Blaine growled, his tongue darting out to trace over Kurt's swollen lips, " E tu sei mio, solo mio per sempre . Mio, cos� che possa scoparti finch� non urlerai e pregherai e verrai cos� tanto che non potrai nemmeno ricordare come si respira."

["You're so fucking gorgeous," Blaine growled, his tongue darting out to trace over Kurt's swollen lips. "And you're mine, just mine forever. Mine to fuck until you're screaming and begging and coming so hard you can't even remember how to breathe."]

Kurt whimpered brokenly as Blaine's hips slammed forward again. He had no idea what the hell Blaine had just said, but, fucking hell, whenever Blaine started talking in Italian it just did things to him. It made his entire body tingle, and his spine shiver, and the rest of the blood in his body drain south. His cock twitched, pressing hard against the coarse fabric of his pants. He whimpered again, because it ached so damn bad and the pressure of his tight jeans only made it more painful. Blaine's hand dragged down his toned stomach, nails digging in and leaving red marks in their wake, and tugged violently at the button on his jeans. It popped open after some fumbling and Kurt groaned in relief as the pressure eased a little bit. He arched forward against Blaine and the movement added more strain to his zipper, which finally slid down to relieve the pressure. He sighed happily, his head pounding and buzzing, as Blaine's hands grabbed his thighs and lifted him against the wall.

"Get it, Anderson!"

Puck's loud voice was slurred and giggly as he catcalled across the room. Apparently, the music had stopped again while his boyfriend had started undressing him. Blaine took no notice of the cheers as he sucked Kurt's earlobe into his mouth and jerked his hips hard enough to make Kurt bounce off of the wall a bit. Kurt knew he was more drunk than he'd ever been before, because he didn't even care that all of his friends were now watching him and his boyfriend rutting against the wall of Puck's basement. One hand tangled into Blaine's thick, thankfully gel- free, curls and the other fumbled desperately at the wall, nails digging into the painted surface as he grappled for something to hold on to.

"Dudes! No! I don't wanna see you and my brother doing... that. Get a room or something, man."

Kurt was vaguely aware of Finn trying to tug Blaine off of him with very little success. The only effect it really had was pulling Blaine away enough for Kurt to drop his feet back onto the ground. His limbs were shaking, but somewhere in the back of his fuzzy brain Kurt knew Finn, the designated driver for the evening and therefore only sober person, was right. He shoved at Blaine's shoulders trying to direct him to the little hallway where there was bound to be a closet or a bathroom or something that would put a damn door between them and their friends. They tumbled drunkenly towards the hallway, tongues tangled together as they rolled and shoved each other against the wall. Kurt kept a tight grip on Blaine's hair with one hand as breathless Italian words were panted against his lips, while the other hand searched for a doorknob as they fumbled down the hallway.

Kurt's hand finally closed around the doorknob he'd been hoping to find and he twisted it urgently as Blaine pressed him up against the door. If he'd been sober he would have realized that opening the door would send them stumbling into the room. He wasn't sure it he just tripped over one of their feet or if his balance was really just that horrible when he'd had too much vodka. But at least the bathroom sink was placed right in front of the doorway and his ass landed on that instead of the floor. His long legs kicked out as he fell onto the sink, the toe of his boot catching the door before it slammed against the wall and kicking it closed as Blaine wedged himself between his thighs. Somehow the faucet got turned on when he leaned back to catch himself, his head bumping against the medicine cabinet, but Blaine was pressed against him again, skin to skin, though he had no idea when the other boy had lost his shirt. Or, when his own had finally been completely removed. Probably, in the hallway at some point or maybe he had tugged it off when Blaine had pinned him against the wall. Hell, if he knew.

"Cazzo, sei cos� sexy, Kurt. Non ti rendi neanche conto di quanto sei stupendo quando sei cos�, vero?"

["Fuck, you're so sexy, Kurt. You don't even know how stunning you are when you're like this, do you?"]

That fucking accent was going to make Kurt come before they were even naked, and he still didn't know what the hell Blaine was saying. He could be calling him anything and it wouldn't matter as long as he kept his voice low and growly like that. He wrapped his legs around Blaine's waist and pulled him closer, desperate to have their bodies flushed against one another. Their mouths slammed together hungrily as Blaine's hands grabbed his ass forcefully and lifted him off of the sink. Fuck, he would always love that Blaine was strong enough to hold him up and carry him around like he weighed nothing.

Blaine stumbled a little as he turned around, pinning Kurt against the wall between the shower and the door.

"Togliti quei cazzo di pantaloni. Voglio fotterti ora."

["Take your damn pants off. I want to fuck you now."]

Kurt still didn't understand Blaine's words, but the motive was obvious when Blaine started tugging his jeans and boxer-briefs down his hips. He unhooked his legs from Blaine's waist, moaning breathlessly as his cock sprung free from his clothes. Somehow, he managed to kick his boots off, although he was pretty sure one of them landed in the toilet. Blaine pushed his jeans and boxer-briefs the rest of the way down, dropping to his knees and tugging them and his socks over his feet. His cock jolted a bit against his stomach as Blaine's hands captured his thighs and pushed them apart. Blaine inched forward, dragging a finger over Kurt's perineum and sucking one of his balls into his mouth as he dug into his back pocket. Kurt gasped, as his hips jerked wildly, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He didn't even notice Blaine fumbling with his wallet or the bottle of lube he'd pulled out of his pocket until the finger rubbing teasingly over his hole disappeared. He whined loudly, and looked down as Blaine finally pulled the condom out of his wallet. The sight of Blaine sucking on his ball sack made him moan pathetically and his head thumped back against the wall, his whole body shivering as a hot tongue swept across his ball that was captured between those perfect lips. He always fell to pieces whenever Blaine's mouth was anywhere near his cock. It was just obscene how talented that boy's mouth was. Blaine released him with a faint, wet pop and slicked his hands up with lube. It was messy and rushed, but Kurt couldn't have cared less because finally, finally Blaine was going to take away that longing ache throbbing inside of him.

Blaine didn't even tease him this time as his slippery fingers pressed back against his hole. His finger dipped in, stretching the tight ring of muscles with a hard thrust until he was buried to the first knuckle. Panting urgently, Kurt arched forward, bending his knees slightly to start fucking himself on Blaine's fingers. Fuck, he didn't want to wait any longer. The same urgency seemed to have possessed Blaine as well. Blaine's other hand grappled for the condom package he'd dropped on the floor, raising it to his mouth to tear it open with his teeth as he pushed another finger inside of Kurt, thrusting in hard and crooking his fingers against Kurt's prostate.

"Fuck, Blaine," Kurt moaned, pressing his hands hard against the wall to steady himself as he rolled his hips with the movement of Blaine's fingers, "More, hurry up. Just, fuck."

Blaine scissored his fingers a few more times and then pulled them out without warning. Kurt whined as the sudden, burning and empty ache began to spread from his hole to his abdomen, but then Blaine was on his feet, tugging his belt and pants loose enough to slide down his hips. He rolled the condom onto his cock, using the lube on his other hand to slick himself up before hoisting Kurt back up against the wall. With the added height, Kurt finally had something to latch his hands onto as he dug his heals into Blaine's ass. His right hand caught hold of the pole the shower curtain was hanging on, and his left grabbed the top corner of the door frame. The leverage made it so much easier to press his back against the wall and arch his hips forward so that Blaine could slid into him. Blaine's head dropped onto his shoulder as he groaned and thrust shallowly into him.

"Sei incredibile. Cos� caldo, cos� fottutamente stretto intorno a me, Kurt."

["You feel so incredible. So hot, so fucking tight around me, Kurt."]

A soft kiss was pressed against the curve of his neck and then Blaine dropped his hands to Kurt's hips, pulling back until only the head of his cock was still inside of him. He held himself there for a moment, and Kurt writhed against him as the burn started up again. The stretch was too new, too recent right now. It hurt more to not be filled by Blaine than to be stretched. And then Blaine slammed himself back into Kurt's heat, and he howled as the pleasure rippled under his skin and through his muscles. Blaine repeated the movement of his hips, pulling out almost all the way, until Kurt started crying out desperately and then he snapped his hips forward so hard Kurt's entire body shook as he held himself up against the wall.

Blaine was panting against his chest, muttering god only knows what sort of nonsense in Italian as his lips nipped and sucked at the sweaty skin of Kurt's chest. Arms shaking from the effort of holding himself up as Blaine fucked into him, Kurt only hoped his muscles held out until they were finished. Which he hoped would be never. He never wanted Blaine to stop pounding up into him, to stop stretching him and brushing against his prostate at just the right angle, or to stop digging his fingers so deeply into the skin of his hips that it left bruises for days.

Blaine's strong hands slid around and latched onto his ass, tilting him up the slightest bit as his hips started jerking faster. The little change in the angle pressed his cock firmly against Kurt's prostate, and this time Kurt didn't just moan or howl in ecstasy, he threw his head back and screamed. And, fuck, everyone in the other room had probably heard that. Knowing Puck and Santana they probably had their ears pressed to the door. Fuck, he didn't care. Blaine's thrusts increased, harder and faster and rougher than Kurt could ever remember, slamming right into his prostate with every delicious rock of their hips. He clinched his muscles tightly around Blaine, his grip on the door frame slipping a little as his palms grew sweaty. The shower rod creaked in protest, but Blaine just moved his hips more furiously, moaning as loudly as Kurt was.

"Vieni per me, Kurt, piccolo."

["Come for me, Kurt, baby. "]

Kurt whimpered as the string of Italian was muttered against his neck. His toes curled as he pressed his heals harder into Blaine's ass and arching more into his boyfriend's almost violent thrusts. One of Blaine's hands let go of his ass and started jerking his cock in time with Blaine's thrusts.

"Sei cos� bello cos�. Mentre ti contorci e ti disperi per qualunque cosa ti dia. Verrai cos� intensamente, non � vero, Kurt? Ti piace quando ti fotto cos� forte da strapparti via l'aria dai polmoni e lasciarti il culo dolorante per giorni. Vieni per me, dolcezza," Blaine whispered huskily, twisting his wrist as he pumped Kurt's cock, slick with pre-cum and sweat.

["You're so beautiful like this. Writhing and desperate for whatever I'll give you. You're gonna come so hard aren't you, Kurt? You love it when I fuck you so hard it knocks the breath out of your lungs and makes your ass ache for days. Come for me, sweet baby," Blaine whispered huskily, twisting his wrist as he pumped Kurt's cock, slick with pre-cum and sweat.]

Kurt couldn't breathe. Every muscle in his body was tensing up and he could feel the shower rod cracking in his grip as a shockwave of pleasure surged through him. His balls tightened up and his whole cock was tingling in Blaine's fist as the edges of his vision blurred. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the voice he heard yelling in rapture was his own, but as the tension in his body crested and cracked with the shower rod, his vision dissolved completely and his eyes rolled up into his skull...

"Svegliati, piccolo, ti sto aspettando... "

["Wake up, baby. I'm waiting for you... "]

He was draped over something warm was Kurt's first thought as he regained consciousness. A tight, warm arm was wrapped around his chest, and his cheek was pressed against a warm body. A hand was twisting his sweat soaked hair and a open mouth was pressing gentle, warm kisses against his nose and forehead. He hummed a little and cracked his eyes open, listening to the sound of Blaine's voice muttering in Italian.

"Bentornato. Stavo aspettando che ti svegliassi. So che ti piace guardarmi venire quanto a me piace guardare te."

["Welcome back. I've been waiting for you to wake up. I know you love watching me come as much as I love watching you."]

Kurt was still completely clueless to his boyfriend's words. He shifted in Blaine's lap, looking around enough to realize they were now laying down in the bathtub, the shower curtain now draped across the toilet. Blaine's mouth captured his in a desperate kiss and he suddenly became aware of Blaine's hips slowly rising and falling below him as he thrust shallowly into Kurt. He moaned against Blaine's lips at the realization, feeling his boyfriend's cock pulsing inside of him as his thrusts became deeper.

Now he knew what Blaine had just said. He didn't need a translator to know Blaine wanted Kurt to make him come, to watch him come for him. The same way he'd just done for Kurt. He yelped as he rocked his hips back against Blaine experimentally. Fuck, it was too soon. A sharp twinge of pain shot from his hole to his cock and he stopped moving, letting Blaine continue his slow thrusts.

" Per favore, fammi venire, Kurt [Please, make me come, Kurt]." Blaine mumbled breathlessly against his lips. The tone told him everything he needed to know about the request Blaine had just made. Blaine's arms circled tightly around his chest as Kurt started to roll his hips again. They were pressed so close, Kurt could feel his over sensitive cock rubbing against Blaine's toned abdomen as they locked their lips together. Blaine whined against his mouth, and it was all the encouragement Kurt needed to start gyrating his hips faster. More Italian was pouring out of Blaine's lips as Kurt glided himself up and down on Blaine's cock, and, fuck, he didn't care that he was still too sensitive. His cock twitched as it slid between their stomachs, hardening and lengthening as he thrust his tongue through Blaine's parted lips, tracing over his teeth and the roof of his mouth.

Blaine's hips spasmed under him, and he moaned with Blaine as his cock slid in deeper, the tempo of his movements increasing.

"Mmm, Dio, sei gi� di nuovo duro. Ti sento scivolare contro di me, Kurt. Cazzo."

["Mmm, god, you're already hard again. I can feel you sliding against me, Kurt. Fuck."]

Blaine's eyes squeezed shut as they moved together, Kurt rocking himself down as Blaine jerked his hips up hard. Kurt whimpered as he rolled his hips so that he was rocking back onto Blaine and pressing his own cock against the friction of Blaine's stomach. God, he was already ridiculously close.

Blaine panted out a breathless moan as he crushed their lips together again. Even when they were drunk, Kurt still knew how to read the sounds that Blaine made. Blaine was close, too. Blaine's muscles were clinching and his body was shaking under him as Kurt rolled his hips faster. He felt Blaine's breath catch in his throat and pulled his lips away from Blaine's to watch his boyfriend's eyes roll up into his head.

"Kurt, cazzo, Kurt, Kurt!"

Blaine was shouting, his hips jerking wildly as he slammed into Kurt one final time and hit his prostate. Kurt groaned and slumped forward, his body trembling as he came, too. Warm come splattered between their chests as they slumped down even farther into the tub. Blaine's chest was heaving in air, his hot breath ghosting over Kurt's overheated skin as Kurt pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. The bitter taste of alcohol lingered on Blaine's skin.

"Je t'aime," Kurt breathed out, pressing another gentle kiss to Blaine's lips. The other boy's eyes, which had already been drifting shut, blinked open again and stared up at him. A dopey, drunken, hopelessly in love smile flashed across Blaine's face.

"Ti amo anch'io."

Blaine's eyes drooped closed before he'd finished the sentence, but Kurt knew he meant that more than anything else in the world. He nuzzled his head into the curve of Blaine's shoulder, fumbling for the shower curtain and pulling it over himself as his head started to buzz angrily and feel heavy. Blaine's breathing had already evened out, a combination of too much alcohol and mind-blowing sex, and he let his own eyes take in the half destroyed bathroom before letting them slide closed.

Puckerman was going to kill them in the morning.