Warnings are: blindfolding, blowjobs, slight public frottage. Title from "Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows)" by Fall Out Boy.

Oh my, I am so terribly sorry for the lack of updates on this, and, well, everything. I've been stressing hardcore and have forgotten what it's like to actually be able to sit down and write. This chapter is mainly summer filler, just them exploring a little further and gearing up to be separated soon. The next chapter will be the last (I'm srs bsns this time, I swear).

Reviewers, I'm going to make this simple: thanks. You keep me writing.

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xxxxXxxxx

Summer is shaping up to be oppressively hot. The first week of June, temperatures hover in the high eighties and the sky seems to be reluctant to spare any moisture. The grass is still April-green, leaves lush and full in every treetop, but something seems to whisper deep down, like an invisible parasite under the skin, about dryness, about arid land and too-full public swimming pools.

School's officially out, the streets and backyards constantly littered now with screaming kids, voices full of elation about the three months of freedom looming heavy over their heads. McKinley's finals are over and that's it: Blaine's officially a senior in high school; Kurt's officially a freshman in college. It's surreal. It's astounding. It's crazy.

But they don't let themselves think about anything other than the endless summer days that they have together. It hurts too much otherwise, thinking about loneliness and their only connection being a staticky one via Skype or phone. Blaine looks despondent when he shows up at Kurt's house after his last final, the Calculus one he had been worrying about for months.

"You didn't fail, did you?" Kurt asks right when he opens the door. It's an almost tactless approach but seems the logical one to voice out loud.

Blaine laughs, humorless and hollow, like the inside of an old tree in danger of collapsing at any second, and, in all honesty, Kurt thinks, that's how Blaine looks at this moment. "No. At least, I don't think so."

"Good." Kurt beckons him in, stepping aside and shutting the door behind him. The air in the foyer swirls cool-hot, the A/C overpowering the last vestiges of the heat outside. There's no one else home for the day, except maybe Finn if he ever decides to show up from wherever he disappeared off to last night, Rachel's or Puck's or something, Kurt doesn't know and doesn't care.

"I've missed you at school," Blaine says, voice soft and slightly hesitant, almost like he's afraid to admit this out loud. He's shifting from foot to foot, fiddling with his fingers, decimating his lip with worrisome teeth.

"You've had it easier," Kurt says, stepping close and taking Blaine's hands in his, linking their fingers together like an inseparable bond. "I've had to threaten myself to avoid unnecessary online shopping." He swings their clasped hands slightly, one corner of his mouth turning up into a smile, trying to coax one out of Blaine. "You look sad."

Blaine shrugs but Kurt thinks that he can see a slight hint of a smile, at least a half-hearted attempt, and Blaine leans forward enough to lightly press their lips together. "I've been trying not to think, I swear," he says in reference to their pact. "It was just difficult to do when you weren't there."

Kurt presses their foreheads together, says, "We have got to be the worst couple in the world."

"Why?" Up close, Blaine's eyes are wide, black-and-honey. He blinks, like he's confused.

"All we do is mope," Kurt says, a hint of laughter in his voice. "Where's the excitement in that?"

Now Blaine laughs, prompted and the sound airy and so, so welcome, so unlike the one from before. "I like what we have," he says. "I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Kurt wouldn't trade anything that involved Blaine for the world. "C'mon," he says, tugging Blaine's arm. "It's nice outside. I was thinking… we could go swimming? If you want."

Blaine smiles. "You know I'd never turn down a chance to see you shirtless."

"Cheeky," Kurt says, but his rising blush automatically negates the annoyed tone he'd been going for. Unfortunately, this had been his sort of excuse to see Blaine shirtless and wet because it's been a long winter and he needs to get this in while he still can.

"Yeah, those either," Blaine says with a wink and his old self is back and Kurt's blush ignites hotter than ever because he's still not used to this, to being openly flirted with and propositioned.

"Come on, you horndog," Kurt says, smacking Blaine's ass when he heads for the stairs. "Let's go change."

xxxxXxxxx

The swimming is nice for a half-hour, after Kurt's slathered on waterproof sunblock—with the help of Blaine and a promise to keep everything G-rated and strictly helpful—and Blaine's dived into the pool with an effortless grace that Kurt wishes he could possess.

And it's not fair when Blaine surfaces and swims over to the edge, shaking his hair out like some men's cologne commercial. Kurt's still sitting on the poolside chair, debating whether or not to actually get in the water or just watch his boyfriend swim and see his trunks slide lower and lower down his hips with every lap around the pool.

He ends up joining when Blaine forcibly grabs him and they both topple in with shrieks and a loud splash.

"You—ass," Kurt gasps, wiping water out of his eyes and shaking his head, purposely spraying a grinning Blaine with water. "I could have drowned."

"Nonsense." Blaine swims closer. "You're perfectly safe in this five-foot-deep water."

"Must be why you need to swim, then," Kurt snaps back, no real heat to it, and Blaine brays out a laugh that squeaks at the end, and Kurt joins in nearly immediately because that laugh, that carefree everything-is-awesome laugh is his favorite.

Blaine swims closer, crowds Kurt against the side of the pool, water rippling and splashing around them as he brackets Kurt's body with his arms. "You know, there's no one around," he whispers, lips following a droplet of water as it slides down Kurt's jaw, his neck. "We could… take advantage of the pool."

The dynamic suddenly shifts, everything heating up.

Kurt stares at the droplets littering Blaine's shoulders and neck, all catching the sunlight and glittering like individual jewels. Blaine's naturally dark skin looks somehow even darker, and whenever he moves Kurt can see the muscles shift under the skin. He swallows. It's amazing what finally caving in to your most natural instinct will do to you, will change you and make you think in ways you never believed you would.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Kurt says, though his argument is weak. It actually sounds like a great idea, and Kurt wants nothing more than to wrap his legs around Blaine's waist and grind against him until they both come. Blaine rolls his eyes and presses closer, torso to torso, and Kurt has to bite back a moan at the feel of Blaine so close, and like Blaine knows how much Kurt's resolve is wavering he presses his lips back to Kurt's neck, one hand coming up to tangle in Kurt's hair, twine the wet strands around his fingers and tug gently, enough to jostle Kurt's head slightly and elicit a tiny moan and tilt of the hips.

"Other people swim in this pool, Blaine," Kurt hisses, clutching uselessly at Blaine's back, digging blunt nails into damp skin, pressing in like he's going to fall, collapse, disappear at any second. "Rachel swims in this pool. God, Carole swims here."

"I didn't say come in the pool," Blaine whispers, and, oh, flicks his tongue out to trace the curve of Kurt's ear. "Who's to say I wasn't thinking about us just… kissing." He lets go of Kurt's hair, trails his hand down Kurt's chest, across his peaked nipples, his flat abdomen, down until he reaches the waistband of Kurt's swim trunks. He pauses before going lower; grasping Kurt's hardening cock through the slick fabric, rubbing back-forth, squeezing and pulsing his fingers. "And maybe a little bit of that."

Kurt moans and, okay, fuck it. He grabs Blaine's chin and pulls him away from his neck, leans down and presses their lips together rough, deepening the kiss immediately. He loops his arms around Blaine's shoulders, hooks a leg around Blaine's waist and lets the gentle motion of the water rock their bodies together.

"You're so hot," Blaine whispers, pecking a kiss to Kurt's lips, forehead, the dimple in his chin. "You turn me on so much."

Kurt lets out a little whine, something that's almost completely involuntary. It's still just the thought, the obvious reaction and result that he can do this to someone, that he can turn someone on and make them come. That someone wants to come because of him.

"Oh, god, Blaine," he gasps, and already he's close, teetering at the edge with his body trembling, nerves on overdrive. All over he feels flushed, skin too-tight, the water lapping at his chest a thousand degrees hotter than the sun striking down on his back, inevitably reddening his skin but still making Blaine's glow.

It's freeing, uplifting, to be able to experience this now and not until New York like he'd always had to make himself believe. Feeling a body, a boy, pressed so unabashedly close makes Kurt's heart pound and breath catch in his throat. Feeling another boy's dick, swollen hard and full and pressed against his thigh, is exactly like he'd always imagined it, only a million times better and sharper because it's real and not a fleeting fantasy he'd only let himself visit when everyone was asleep and his bedroom lights were off.

"I know that your exhibitionism kink is adorable sometimes and all," Kurt says, forcing the words out even as Blaine brings a leg between his thighs and rubs upward, one hand sliding back under the water to grab the underside of Kurt's thigh and hike his leg higher, "but let's not do this where everyone can see. Specifically Miss Stone. She's a terrible gossip."

"Who's she going to tell?" Blaine grits out, sucking a mark into Kurt's collarbone. "Her cats?"

"She's in a sorority," Kurt moans, rubbing his palm over one of Blaine's nipples, rolling it between his fingers until Blaine's jerking and whining, pressing his cock harder against Kurt's. "The old ladies of Lima love to gossip about their neighbors, especially when one of said neighbors is gay and is dry-humping his boyfriend in his pool."

"Mmm, more like wet-humping," Blaine says, kissing Kurt until they're both panting and flushed, and how did Kurt get so lucky again? Blaine, with his full, red lips, wet from water and saliva, cheeks dusted pink high on his cheekbones, hair curly and plastered to his forehead, sticking up in tufts where Kurt's dug his fingers into it, is more than Kurt could have ever asked for.

"Blaine." Kurt's tone turns serious now, and as wonderful as grinding up against his boyfriend feels, he's been thinking about while they have experimented in the past with places and positions and words, they can do more, and more is what Kurt wants for a hot summer afternoon. "What if I said that I had something else in mind for today?"

"Depends," Blaine answers, words warm and content as he grinds against Kurt again.

"Remember that time you asked about us being adventurous?"

"I do," Blaine says, nipping at Kurt's jaw, pulling them closer, the gentle splashing of water added alongside the soft songs of the birds perched in the treetops. "And I remember that it didn't end too well the first time."

Kurt shakes his head to try to rid himself of images of Sebastian and unfortunate gay bars and too much alcohol and backseat kissing that had him wanting more, please, more when he should have been wanting less, this isn't right, stop. "I think you'll like this idea," Kurt says, and that's enough to get Blaine pulling back and staring with wide, curious eyes and kiss-abused lips.

"Tell me more," he says, and Kurt can't help but laugh and frame Blaine's face in his hands, stroking fingers through dark, wet curls and leaning close to breathe, inhale chlorine and toothpaste and Blaine.

"Let me show you."

xxxxXxxxx

It's such a sweet sight to see Blaine on his knees, hands dutifully held behind his back, one of Kurt's old silk ties fashioned over his eyes and knotted in the back. Hair still damp from their swim, corded muscles flexing as he must silently tell himself not to move, not to try and reach out like he wants to.

It's perfect. It's beautiful.

"Kurt." His name comes out of Blaine's mouth in a sandpaper-rough whisper, broken and fraying like an old rope, like brittle glass, ready to shatter and spew in a thousand different directions. "Please."

Blaine is beautiful when he begs. When he's tied up and incarcerated.

"Open your mouth, baby," Kurt coos, and when the reaction is immediate, Blaine's mouth dropping open and pink tongue flat, out, ready, Kurt groans. He gently places a hand on the back of Blaine's head, rubs fingertips across silk and is glad that he has old ties to spare because this one is probably going to be unusable after this.

Blaine unconsciously leans forward, unconsciously groans low and ends it with another whine, and then Kurt is rubbing the head of his cock against Blaine's lips, smearing pre-come and pulling back slightly to watch it string, to watch Blaine's tongue chase it. Before he's even aware he's doing it, a thumb is tracing Blaine's lush bottom lip, catching a smear left, and Blaine's sucking it into his mouth before Kurt can pull away, laving his tongue along the pad of Kurt's thumb with a satisfied moan.

He is, honestly, sort of surprised that Blaine had said yes. This is something that he's been thinking on for months now but had always been too afraid to even bring it up. And while they have explored the boundaries of their love life in the past months, nothing had ever gotten as far as something as downright kinky as this, and that's exactly what this is: it's kinky. It's borderline fetishist. It's something Kurt's only ever heard of in predictable, clichéd gay-themed books and everyone's automatic assumption of gays in general.

And seeing Blaine, helpless like he is, hands bound (though of their own will) and blindfolded, relying only on Kurt, trusting him completely, he can understand the appeal of it.

Kurt slides his cock between Blaine's lips, bites his lip and gasps at the wet heat, and immediately Blaine's mouth is closing around him, cheeks hollowing as he slides down and back up, tongue swirling patterns on the underside, nostrils flared as he breathes harshly through his nose.

Kurt imagines that Blaine's eyes would be fluttering right now, dark lashes fanned across his skin and eyes blown wide, shaded dark, with lust and sheer need. There's something poetically beautiful about Blaine right now, something about the thin red tie across his eyes, the shine of saliva on lips stretched tight around the girth of Kurt's cock, on his chin.

This is a far cry from a harmless video made to help Kurt acclimate further to the world of sex and the most basic kind of vulnerability, intimacy, known to man. Eight months ago he never would have been able to imagine Blaine, the kind, gentle boy who'd been so thorough, so caring and loving that first time on a November night, like this, allowing himself to be like this.

"Fuck, Blaine." He can't help the noises, the words, that spill out of his mouth as Blaine sucks harder, bobs his head with the careful guidance of Kurt's hand in his hair, the knot of the tie, slick, wet noises filling the gaps when it's usually both their voices rising and falling in filthy adulation of the other.

He has to resist the urge to grab Blaine's hair, order him still, and work his cock in and out of Blaine's lips, down his throat until he's hoarse. Instead, he gently cups Blaine's cheek, strokes his fingers across the skin for a moment before moving down to the corner of Blaine's mouth where saliva trickles out in a clear line, where the skin is stretched red and thin, where the hard length of Kurt's cock is buried deep.

Blaine whimpers, pulls his head back to suck on the head of Kurt's cock, clumsily kissing it then dipping his tongue into the slit, swirling it around the smooth skin, under the ridge and the nerves that has Kurt keening and pushing forward. "Wish I could see you," he rasps, and Kurt lets his gaze travel down Blaine's body, past his heaving chest and well-defined abs and hips, all the way down to where Blaine's cock is flushed red and full between his legs, jutting heavy and leaking pre-come. "I bet you look so pretty."

Kurt can't help his scoff; it's a second-nature thing, and Blaine always has these ridiculous corny porn lines that he likes to throw around whenever he can. He watches Blaine's shoulders flex, watches a bead of sweat begin its journey from hairline to neck, thinks Blaine is so lucky he's hot and too loveable, because the amount he sweats cannot be appealing or healthy on anyone else.

"You look gorgeous," Kurt says, and it's the absolute truth. Blaine submitting is gorgeous because he's one of the strongest people that Kurt knows. "My cock in your mouth, your eyes covered by my tie."

Blaine moans, high, desperate and so many other things. He shifts on his knees, cock bobbing with his slight movements, and Kurt unconsciously licks his lips, wishes he could take Blaine in his hand and stroke, twist, until he's coming hard and fast and rocking up with the force of it.

He's close when he slides his cock back into Blaine's mouth, can feel it licking at him, waiting just off stage. Blaine's biceps twitch, strain, and he lets out a broken noise, something that's a cross between a moan and a whine, something that means he's close, and, god, he hasn't even touched himself yet.

"Blaine, I—I'm gonna," Kurt gasps, and he can feel Blaine tilt his head back at the same time that he starts to pull out, and before he can even begin to understand what this means, what Blaine apparently wants, he's sliding his palm along the length of his dick and he's coming in thick streaks on Blaine's face, on the fabric of his old tie. White collects on Blaine's lips, his chin and nose and tongue, and through it all Blaine is moaning desperately, moaning the way he had when they'd gotten the hotel room, loud and unabashed, like he wants everyone to know, and just as Kurt's saying "You can—" Blaine is dropping a hand to his cock, pulling desperately only a few times before he's spilling over his fist with a keen.

With shaking hands Kurt undoes the knot on the tie, slips it off Blaine's head and lets it fall to the floor in a heap of ruined fabric. Kurt drops to his knees, gathers Blaine up and kisses him, licks away the come Blaine hasn't gotten to yet, and he's so past this being gross, being weird, and through it all Blaine is still blinking blearily, newborn-like, adjusting to the light.

"Well. Shit," he says, following it up with a laugh, and Kurt's smiling brightly, widely, like he doesn't have a care in the world. "That was… something else."

"A good something else?" Kurt asks, and he can't help but be worried because he hadn't run any of this by with Blaine in advance, had just sprung it after they'd gotten out of the pool and Blaine had said yes with bright eyes and enthusiastic kisses that meant the smooth, wet slide of his tongue against Kurt's.

Blaine kisses him in that same enthusiastic way, cupping Kurt's cheek with his free hand, swapping remnants of come and Kurt could stay like this forever, post-orgasm and nearly boneless. "God, yes," he says with a breathless laugh. "Very good."

The floor of Kurt's bedroom isn't comfortable, and Kurt is hyperaware that they're still naked and damp, sweaty and Blaine still has streaks of his own come across his abdomen and on his hand, but he doesn't want to move. Not yet.

"I want to stay like this forever," he says, tangling their fingers together. "When we're young and spontaneous."

"Oh, so you're okay with spontaneous now?" Blaine asks, turning his head and pressing lips against Kurt's jaw. "I seem to recall you having a slight aversion to that."

"Only when you're drunk," Kurt quips. "Which seems to be a lot."

"Drunk on your love," Blaine replies, words dripping saccharine, and though he may be joking Kurt knows that, deep down, he means every word, and it's that conscious thought, that knowledge, that has him leaning down and rubbing their noses together, pressing a gentle kiss to Blaine's lips and laying them both back on the carpet.

He really wishes that this could be the endless summer, but he's already planning something that he hopes will make the lonely fall months go by quickly.