Okay, warning to all; THIS CHAPTER IS SMUT. Pure, unadulterated smut! Okay, not really that bad, but if you don't care for smutty goodness, please don't read. There are no major plotlines happening in this chapter, so feel free to skip it if this isn't your type of thing.

As always, not mine. I rent.

Kurt awoke slowly to the distinct sound of two upset little girls. He turned over on the couch, and looked at Penny and Katherine, and they stared solemnly at him. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around him. Blaine seemed to be passed out on the leather chair near the couch.

"What's wrong, girls?" He asked sleepily, drawing his hand through his hair messily. What was wrong with him? He didn't normally need a nap during the day.

"Daddy," Penny whispered conspiratorially, and Katherine nodded softly.

"Daddy," She agreed, stealing a quick look at him, as though frightened of what she would see if she looked at him.

"What's wrong with him?" Kurt asked, looking over at Blaine and studying him for a few seconds. Then Kurt began to understand, and felt himself turning a couple of shades darker.

For Blaine was dreaming, and although his dreams were obviously exceedingly pleasant, Kurt felt sure that the girls shouldn't be watching this. He plastered a smile on his face and turned back to the girls.

"It's okay, sweethearts," His voice was low to avoid waking the dreaming man close to him. "Daddy's just having a strange dream. He's fine," Kurt nearly choked on that last word, but managed to get it out all right. "Why don't you guys go play in the bedroom for a little while, and I'll start making dinner, how's that sound?" The girls nodded fervently, and tiptoed back into the bedroom and shut the door. Kurt looked back at the man sleeping in the chair, and wondered how he was going to wake him up.

Kurt's mind was instantly flooded with images of himself waking Blaine up with kisses, nips to his lower lip, a hand here, a tongue there. Holy shit. Kurt's face flushed yet again, and he wondered if it was becoming a habit to blush this much over someone he barely knew.

Blinking the remainder of the sleep from his eyes, he watched the other man writhing on the chair. The throes of his dream must have been exceedingly graphic, because it caused Blaine's body to gyrate in ways Kurt didn't think were possible, even if he had been on the cheerleading team in high school.

Kurt startled as a low moan erupted from the sleeping man's throat, and Kurt grew warm at just the thought of being able to elicit that kind of response from his employer. Closing his eyes in regret, he slowly made his way closer to Blaine, intending on waking the other man up.

As Kurt reached up to tap Blaine on the shoulder, a soft gasp came from Blaine, and he awoke. His mind was still half-asleep, and in that split second he grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled the taller man down to him. Kurt landed in his lap, and Blaine's hips gave a jerk. His questing mouth found Kurt's, his mind so mussed he wasn't sure what was going on; but it felt amazing, and he never wanted it to stop.

The touch, the taste, the sounds he was pulling from the man he was thrusting against, made his blood boil ever higher, as though his dream had suddenly come to life and…

Blaine's eyes popped open properly, and he took in the lap full of squirming Kurt he held.

His eyes widened, his breath hitched and his hands leapt up from Kurt's body as though he had been stung. No. It couldn't possibly be. He had to still be dreaming. Oh God, if you really do exist, please let me still be dreaming, he thought miserably to himself.

Kurt blinked open his eyes, which had been rolling around somewhere in the back of his head. If nothing else could ever be said about Blaine Anderson, it was that he was an amazing kisser. Kurt placed his hands on the broad shoulders of the man under him, and pushed himself upright. Swaying slightly unsteadily on his feet, he managed to totter a few steps away and collapse on the couch, facing Blaine.

Blaine had a look of pure, unadulterated shock on his usually serene features. His mind was whirling a mile a second, but it was only going in circles. Not once did it stop to allow him to actually think about anything.

"I'm not… You aren't… I just… Oh my God," Blaine, hardly coherent at the best of times, couldn't even form a full sentence as he stared at the flushed man in front of him.

Kurt gave a sharp bark of laughter, trying to disguise the hurt he felt at the rejection.

"I know you aren't gay, Blaine. But I will say, that had to have been one hell of a dream you were having," he quipped, the snarkiness just enough to mask the pain he felt inside. "I had to shoo the girls into the bedroom to play. They wondered if you were sick," He added, just a bit more gently. Blaine catapulted himself from the chair, concern written all over his face; Kurt stopped him before he could get more than a couple of steps.

"They're fine, Blaine. They were a bit worried about you, but I reassured them. Why don't you go take a shower and cool off a bit," Kurt remarked softly, inclining his head in Blaine's direction. It took the other man a moment to realise his erection hadn't faded in the slightest. He turned away, embarrassed, and nodded curtly, taking off down the hall to the bathroom.

Once there, he closed the door, and leaned against it morosely. What the hell had his body done, betraying him like that? His humiliation was complete, because his fucking cock wouldn't even deflate. He was hornier than ever, and the man he wanted to push against a wall stood less than twenty feet from where he was.

Trying to get the images from his head, he turned on the shower and stripped. Jumping in, he gritted his teeth as he turned the water as cold as he could stand. He stood there for at least five minutes, but his dick remained stiff. Finally with a low groan, he took himself in hand and jerked himself off like a fucking teenager. The heat that rose from his body effectively cancelled out the cold from the water, and he found himself overheating. As he neared his climax, he attempted to force out thoughts of Kurt, and think back to the amazing female supermodel bodies in the most recent magazine he had picked up. But his mind refused to stay with the supermodels. Bleach blond hair was replaced by smooth, light brown locks. Deep brown eyes were replaced by dazzling blue-green ones. Perfect, pearly teeth were replaced by Kurt's amazing, close-mouthed smile. Scantily clad women had nothing on the man who currently was sitting in his living room, probably thinking about Blaine, and the way he had kissed him.

With a deep, reverberating groan, which echoed off the tiles and should have been the most embarrassing sound in the world, but really wasn't, Blaine came, his hot seed shooting over the wet tiles. He stroked himself through it, finally releasing when the stimulation became too much. His panting sounded obnoxiously loud to him, and he wondered fleetingly if Kurt could hear him through the door. His dick gave a little twitch, and he looked down incredulously.

Really?

Blaine didn't know what it was about Kurt that made him want him so much, and truthfully, he didn't want to know. He was straight, God Damn It, even if he hadn't so much as looked at another woman since Andrea had left him. It wasn't like he didn't have stuff to do; with three kids to take care of most of the time he felt like sleeping, rather than trying to find his new soul mate.

Not that there were many women out there who would be able to love a man with three kids. Having an ex was baggage enough; having three kids was like social suicide. Not for the first time, he wondered what his life would be like if he hadn't agreed to the marriage with Andrea.

Then he shuddered violently. When the hell had the water gotten so damned cold? He turned off the shower, and with chattering teeth, searched around for a towel. Shit. Shit Shit Shit!

He debated standing there until he drip dried, but his chattering teeth made it difficult, and his lips turning blue made it impossible. Cracking the door a little, he stage-whispered down the hall:
"Hey, Kurt… Are you still here?"

A shuffle sounded, and Kurt appeared in the hallway, gracefully slipping down to the door, blatantly ignoring the fact that his employer was completely naked in the other room.

"Would you be so kind as to grab a towel for me from the hall closet?" Blaine asked sheepishly, his eyes roaming everywhere but on Kurt, who arched his eyebrows in response.

"Of course," Kurt turned, swaying slightly down the hall a ways. Blaine blinked gently; was Kurt supposed to sashay like that? As Kurt handed him the towel, he smiled awkwardly, and closed the door behind him.

He toweled off, and wrapped the fabric around his waist snugly. Confronting himself in the mirror, he scowled.

Oh.

My.

God.

Unsure of how to interpret the situation, he groaned, and pulled out his toothbrush.