A/N: Hey Vikki, guess what? HAPPY SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY. I LOVE YOU. I finished this just for you despite my lack of inspiration… Even though, you know, you don't watch Glee. Ship-whores, ahoy! :L I hope you have an awesome birthday despite everything else. You're fucking awesome. ENJOY!

Disclaimer: God, I don't even know who Glee belongs to anymore… it's not me.

Popcorn Kisses

He could picture it perfectly: Blaine in a green pullover and deliciously tight plaid pants, and beside him Kurt himself in corduroy pants and that red-and-blue sweater, a scarf stylishly wrapped around his neck and thick black frames perched on his nose. He'd have to borrow a camera from someone, too, one that he wasn't terrified of dropping and breaking. Physically they didn't look very similar to Mark and Roger, but the point of Halloween was to dress up and have fun anyways-

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, amused. He was leaning towards the taller boy, poking him playfully in the forehead. "Kurt pay attention! You're missing your favorite part, you know."

Blinking, the brunet snapped his head up in time to see Anthony Rapp- one of Kurt's favorite actors, partially because he was gay, out and proud of it- in his Mark attire jumping up onto a table. Blaine and Kurt had been holed up in his room for at least two hours now, gabbing about musicals and clothes and the approaching holidays.

Halloween. Right. That was what he had been getting to.

"Sorry, I was just thinking-" he laughed, turning his head to kiss his boyfriend lightly on the cheek, affection practically oozing from every pore. "What do you think we should go as for Halloween? I was picturing us dressed up as Mark and Roger, but then… I can't see you walking around in pajama pants for a whole night…" Giggling, he reached for the green plastic bowl of movie theater popcorn balanced in Blaine's lap and popped a couple of buttery pieces into his mouth.

The only time he could ever seem to bring himself to eat something this greasy and full of calories was when Blaine was there. Ironically, instead of making him more self-conscious, the Anderson boy actually helped him relax…

When you got down to it, wasn't that how it should be?

The beautiful dark-eyed boy beside him grinned, and Kurt was reminded once in love of how hard, how fast he'd fallen in love with him. God. Blaine was perfect. A gentleman, an amazingly supportive friend, a romantic and extremely patient boyfriend…

Internally sighing, Kurt looked back to his plain blue bedspread, drawing circles into it with his pointer finger. Patient. Yeah, Blaine had been patient with him… Too patient. Despite his constant reassurances that Blaine loved him, Kurt couldn't help but feel like every time they broke apart after a heavy makeout session- the kind that left him panting and whimpering with bruised lips and a mind full of dirty, dirty images- it was his fault.

He wasn't attractive, wasn't sexy enough, and Blaine was too dapper to allow that sort of thing with his precious porcelain boyfriend anyways.

It was times like these that he loathed Sue for that nickname…

"I can see that. I've always sort of wanted to see the two of them just close that tiny distance between them… you know. In the Broadway version." Blaine smiled sheepishly, ducking his head, knowing perfectly well that he sounded like a dork. Kurt couldn't stop his heart from fluttering anyways. He's so beautiful… "The sexual tension is incredible, isn't it?"

Then there were times like this, where Blaine is talking right in his ear in that low, sultry voice and his hand is stroking absently at Kurt's thigh and it's all Kurt can do to hold back a pleading moan and risk revealing his embarrassing arousal. Blaine is either just plain oblivious or doing a far better job than Kurt at this whole abstinence business.

Those are the times that he has to force a laugh to seem less desperate than he really is, tear his gaze away from Blaine's Adams apple as it bobs and back to the movie, racking his brain to remember what the hell they had even been talking about before Blaine had unintentionally (well, he wasn't totally convinced of that yet… he had to at least hope.) scrambled his thoughts.

"That's funny… I always thought so, too," he manages to spit out, grinning awkwardly and looking away. There was no reason that Blaine had to know about his fanfiction obsession… Either way, Mark and Roger have flown from his mind and have been replaced with slightly more frustrating but just as graphic images of Blaine Anderson in nothing but a tight pair of boxer briefs…

Damn his teenaged hormones. How was he supposed to be a sophisticated young adult when everything made him so goddamn hard?

Perhaps Blaine really is just oblivious, because despite his hand's proximity he doesn't seem to notice at all that Kurt is sporting one of said erections, happily humming along to La Vie Boheme as the characters wildly dance on the screen of his television.

Normally, musical nights were conducted at Dalton. That was where they had started and it was just plain more fun that way- the other Warblers could pop in and sing along with them, laughing and acting out their favorite scenes of whichever musical happened to be playing. But this weekend he'd been invited to the Anderson household, which was still admittedly a novelty to him, to sleep over- and despite Burt's grumbling, Carol had managed somehow to convince him that it was only fair to let him have a sleepover, especially since he would soon be turning eighteen.

The fashion-minded, lovestruck brunet had never appreciated that woman more than he did right now, sitting on Blaine's bed with him, knees bumping and faces mere inches apart.

"You have such nice eyes," the raven-haired boy mused, using his unoccupied hand to cup Kurt's jaw and stare into his blue eyes. Kurt could have said the same thing if the words weren't stuck in his throat. There's so much adoration in Blaine's voice as he sighs, "I love you, Kurt…" that he could choke. His heart is fluttering in his chest, making him feel lightheaded.

Sometimes Kurt wondered why, exactly, he's so afraid to go any further with Blaine on his own terms. Why doesn't he just take some control for once, go for it? He doubted Blaine would object too much, and he'd get what he wanted at least to some degree.

And then Blaine strokes his thumb over his thigh innocently, still smiling softly, and he remembers.

"I love you, too," he breathes, his own smile threatening to crack his face in two. Times like this are the reason that he knows he was in the right, giving up on Finn. He deserved someone gay, someone he could hold hands with in public and cuddle with without feeling awkward about pressuring them into something they weren't comfortable doing. Blaine was all of those things for him. Blaine was everything for him, and if he loved him so much then he might as well wait.

The way Blaine's face lit up every time that he confirmed his love for him only served as another reminder of why he was going to wait. "I love hearing you say that," he admitted, tilting his head and licking his lips lightly, subconsciously. Kurt swallows, doing his very best to ignore it.

"I know. I do, too," he murmurs, reaching into his lap to grab a handful of popcorn and eating one piece at a time, trying to calm himself down. The grease coats his palm yellow and he winces, ignoring it for Blaine's sake. The other boy seems to see it in his expression anyways, nose wrinkling in amusement.

"It's just butter," he promises, chuckling and leaning down to lick a piece out of his hand, chewing slowly. Kurt does his best to restart his heart, lightheaded with the way Blaine's tongue had swiped over his hand and oh God he could imagine a thousand other things he'd like to see Blaine do with that tongue of his-

"Y-yeah well- well these are just designer jeans…"

"Yeah? Well I'm sure you can get them dry-cleaned if you get them dirty." Teasingly, Blaine leaned down to nuzzle his shiny lips against the fabric, leaving tiny traces of butter on Kurt's dark jeans. The brunet watched in horror as it sank into the fabric.

"Blaine!" he gasped, dabbing futilely at it with a napkin. (of course he had thought to bring napkins- maybe he could loosen up enough to eat the popcorn but he didn't want to wear it.) Blaine just smiled innocently, licking his lips and returning his eyes to the screen, thumb running up along the seam of Kurt's jeans.

"You love me," he sing-songed, apparently unconcerned with the way his boyfriend was now narrowing his eyes. Kurt felt an unfamiliar daring bubbling up in his chest- damn Blaine, always bringing out the oddest feelings and instincts in him that no one else could seem to elicit- and before he even knows it he's pinning him down, hands firmly on his shoulders as he pushes him onto his back and shoves the bowl of popcorn to the side, just barely managing not to tip it over.

He relished the way Blaine's eyes widened, the way he inhaled excitedly like he'd been waiting for this forever. So then apparently Kurt could pull off dominant… The thought brought a smile to his lips but it was only there for a moment before they were on Blaine's, crashing their mouths together without giving himself time to think about it, think and back out because of the risk, because he's Kurt and not some kind of pornstar that knows what he's doing, and he shouldn't pose as someone who has experience because really he does it and they both know it and he's just going to embarrass himself-

None of this stops him from pressing their chests tightly together as he kisses him, drawing little moans from Blaine's throat that ignite his nerves, making his ruined jeans even more uncomfortable as their hips hesitantly touch. Blaine is surprisingly willing to give up his usual firm control over the situation, laying back without making a peep in protest, eagerly arching into Kurt's fingers as they dance up his chest, stroking through the fabric of his shirt. He'd never paused to think about Blaine like this- in his mind he had always naturally taken the dominant role, despite being shorter and far more dapper than Kurt himself, but this opened a whole new realm of fantasy in the darkest corners of his mind…

Dear GOD, his tongue was in Blaine's mouth and he was the one who had initiated it-!

Belatedly, he realized that he had yet to breathe and came up to do so, a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips. Kurt licked it away, staring down hazily into Blaine's pleasantly surprised expression, admiring his flushed complexion and ruby lips and the way they had fallen open in a slight "o".

"You taste like popcorn," he stammered, breathless and Kurt giggled, the slight tension relieved immediately. Curiously satisfied by this brief, passionate makeout session he pulled away and pulled Blaine up with him gently by both hands, grinning like a loon.

"Well so do you," he teased, licking the butter they'd shared from his lips. Blaine did the same, eyes darting down to his lips the same way his usually did to Blaine's and he felt another overwhelming wave of satisfaction tingle down his spine. Was this what Blaine felt like all the time?

Because, for the moment, Kurt Hummel felt like the king of the world.

"Where did that come from? If you don't mind my asking," Blaine added hastily, smiling anxiously at him, dark eyelashes shading his chocolate eyes and making Kurt want to swoon.

Curious. They seemed to have attained a new balance. Kurt had his confidence renewed, but Blaine could certainly keep his own because there was no way that the other boy would ever stop having this effect on him. Sure enough, his cheeks were reddening- he could see it in the mirror over Blaine's dresser.

"I just wanted to kiss you." He paused, then arched an eyebrow in amusement and added, "Problem, Blaine?"

"No!" The ebony-haired boy's eyes widened, holding up his hands in protest too quickly, cheeks stained dark red. His hand, Kurt noticed, had already returned to his thigh and maybe it hadn't been all that innocent in the first place. "I just-"

"Relax," he laughed, reaching over to plunk the bowl right back into his boyfriend's lap and reach in for another handful of the buttery snack. He turned his eyes back to the screen, humming briefly along to the opening lines of "What You Own." For some reason, it seemed like an entirely appropriate theme for the moment.

After all, Blaine definitely knew who he belonged to now.

The other boy obeyed and leaned against him, curling an arm around his, and for maybe the first time in their relationship Kurt felt like he had some semblance of true dominance.

He turned his head, grasping Blaine's chin hesitantly as he tested it out, leaning to press their lips together in another popcorn-flavored kiss. Blaine smiled against his lips, and they stayed that way for several long moments until the Finale B began to play.

Kurt broke away and lit up, smiling fondly at the screen as the actors all stood around and sang to the policy of "no day but today", heart fluttering both from the familiar tune and the events of the evening.

"What do you want to watch next?" Blaine murmured, already getting to his feet to search for another movie, but Kurt caught him by the wrist and pulled him back.

"Wait."

"Wha- mmph. Again?" Blaine laughed as they broke apart again to find Kurt smiling sheepishly up at him.

"Not sorry," he replied, pulling him back again for a more forceful kiss. Blaine's lips were somehow even more appealing than before, especially when he had the other boy whimpering into his mouth, mouths pressing together over and over again.

He couldn't think of a better addiction.