"You should be still when someone is holding a razor to your face," Kurt scolded. He grasped a pinch of Blaine's beard, pulled it straight, and carefully sheared it in half.
"Can't help it. You're distracting." Blaine's palms slid up the bare thighs that straddled him, and around slender hips to caress the supremely squeezable cheeks resting on his lap. Between them, the captain's soft penis stirred. It didn't seem to matter how well used and sated their bodies were. Blaine himself had been sporting a semi ever since the other man had pushed him into a chair and sat on him.
The compliment warmed Kurt's cheeks. His upper ones. A pair of big, friendly hands warmed the other set. "Still, you would probably prefer to keep your nose intact," he said, gamely ignoring the eruption of tingles taking place below.
Pert, pink nipples were at eye level, but Blaine wasn't allowed to lick them because that would require moving his face. Nothing had been said about his hands. They were free to roam.
"Do you want your beard to look like it was trimmed with a hatchet?" Kurt fixed a stern expression on his face, quite a feat when, subconsciously, he was counting the number of fingertips stroking up and down his crack.
"If we had to do this again tomorrow, that wouldn't be the worst thing." Blaine and his fingers continued about their business.
It occurred to Kurt that sitting nude on his cabin boy's lap and grooming his beard for him might be undermining his authority, assuming he had any left. Not that he planned to stop. "I might let you stick more than your fingers back there if we finish this first." Who said pirates don't negotiate?
Blaine's semi filled and lengthened. Smiling brightly, and focusing on the first half of Captain's sentence rather than the latter, he used his free hand to grasp his own hardening prick like a tool, and playfully tapped the captain's with it before poking and diddling his two perfect stones encased in their soft, pink pouch. This was a fun game.
"Razor!" Kurt reminded on a gasp.
"I trust you," said Blaine, releasing himself to pull back Captain's foreskin and swipe a thumb over the tip. At first, Blaine didn't notice the statue his lover had become, being, as he was next, busy trying to get both of their hard lengths into one hand from an awkward angle.
When he did notice, he realized he was being stared at in a way that was not unlike Cook's expression after their spectacular reveal earlier that evening, and in the next moment, the captain was kissing him blind.
Moonlight still cast its pale glow into the room when Blaine awoke to a soft rustling sound. Next to him, his searching hand found cool, empty sheets, making him frown and lift his head. "Cap'm?" he mumbled.
"Shh, I'm right here," Kurt whispered and bent over the bed to press his lips to Blaine's forehead. "Go back to sleep."
"Are you leaving?" Dragging his eyes slightly more open, Blaine was disappointed to see the other man wearing clothes.
"I have to work. We'll be there soon."
A feather-light touch grazed Blaine's face. "Oh." He blinked sadly up at the shadowed figure leaning over him. "When will you be back?"
"Not until this afternoon. Will you be all right here by yourself?" Kurt fastened his boots and collected his pistol from the locked cabinet.
It was a little late to be asking, since Blaine knew he couldn't go outside again until they'd put back out to sea. "Yes, sir."
At the crestfallen tone, Kurt walked slowly back and sat down on the side of the bed. He automatically reached out to stroke Blaine's bare chest. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Blaine."
"Do you have to go right now?" A gentle tug on Captain's arm brought him closer until they were cheek to cheek and Blaine could nibble lightly at the pulse point beneath his ear.
"Mm, wish I didn't."
"I can be quick." Blaine's hand slipped downward.
Kurt moaned and buried his face into the crook of Blaine's neck and shoulder. "Don't tempt me."
"But I want to tempt you," he whispered back.
"Blaine-"
"Captain..." Blaine was smiling by now, sensing a win.
"Mmph." Kurt kissed him hard and stood, moving away before he could change his mind. "I really have to go, but I will be back as soon as I possibly can." His heavy gaze swept over Blaine's delectable form, barely concealed by the rumpled bed linens.
Blaine sighed, dropping back onto the mattress from where he'd begun to sit up and protest. "Okay, okay. I understand. I'm just going to miss you is all. Yesterday was so amazing, spending the entire day together." Puppy eyes trained upward, causing the captain to take a step forward before he literally shook off the connection with a grunt of frustration.
Kurt had to turn away to regain control of himself. "Someone will bring your breakfast in a while," he rasped and cleared his throat. "I left the razor out so you can finish what we started last night."
"Really?" Blaine sat up sharply.
"Yes." Feeling able to look at his lover again without caving, Kurt smiled at the happy surprise he saw. "I trust you."
Blaine threw off the sheets and strode over to the captain, completely nude and unselfconscious. "Thank you," he said, wrapping him up in a hug.
Kurt's face dropped easily onto Blaine's shoulder and he sighed gustily. "Okay, I actually have to leave while I still can." And with one last, quick kiss, he went.
The rest of the morning passed quickly for Blaine. He was excited for the chance to trim his beard just so, after which he sifted curiously through the contents of the washstand's for once unlocked drawer. He even sharpened Captain's razor with the yellow-gray whetstone he found there. Later he browsed the small, but well cared for selection of books on hand, tidied the room, and tried on a number of outfits from the voluminous armoire.
All of those distractions, accompanied by lots of interesting sounds coming from topside as the ship pulled into what he could only assume was their home port, plus chatting with Alex, who brought his meal and kept him company while he ate, meant it was afternoon before he knew it. He washed up in a hurry as soon as he realized, scrambling to get ready for Captain's return, without knowing exactly how much longer he would have to wait.
When Kurt could – at last! – get away that first day, after seeing off most of the men and assuring Finn for the third time that, yes, he was perfectly willing to stay aboard with the watchstanders and keep an eye on things, he couldn't get to his cabin fast enough. He opened the door and stopped in his tracks.
There was Blaine, beautiful Blaine, stretched out on the bed, one arm behind his head. He was draped in a thin, white dress shirt that he must have dug out of the deep recesses of the armoire, although it would not be accurate to say he was dressed. The shirt gaped wide at its lace-collared neck and was rucked up over the taut planes of his abdomen, and he wore nothing else. Nothing obstructed the path of his hand, which slid slowly downward from his chest, through the line of dark hair below his navel. His knuckles brushed past the velvet-soft flesh that began to firm and grow as Kurt watched, and farther until he cupped the low, heavy balls between his spread thighs, rolling them gently and holding them in an open palm like an offering.
"Did you always want to be a pirate?"
"What?" Kurt shifted where he lay, recovering from his exertions by snuggling comfortably against Blaine's side, head resting on a muscle-padded shoulder with an arm wrapped possessively around his back.
"When you were a little boy, did your mother read you bedtime stories full of exciting pirate adventures?"
"No." He thought back to his early childhood, when he was blissfully ignorant and happy. "She sang beautiful lullabies," he said wistfully.
"That sounds nice." Blaine sounded a bit wistful himself.
"Your mother didn't sing?"
"Not much. I don't think she enjoyed it," Blaine mused. "My love of music comes from my paternal grandmother, who found a kindred spirit in me after raising a son who was nothing like her. Whenever I visited, we would spend hours in the music room. She would teach me to play the piano forte, or she would play and I would twirl around the room, singing and dancing."
"I wish I could have seen that." Kurt smiled, fingers idly stroking around a faded bruise over Blaine's ribs.
"Imagine how differently our lives might have turned out if we'd grown up together. Do you think we would have been like brothers? Or would we have been groping each other behind the stables?"
"Groping. Definitely." Kurt demonstrated.
"You're right. It would've been only a matter of time before I couldn't keep my hands off of you, which is basically what happened here."
A quiet noise of disbelief passed Kurt's lips. "I had no idea, you know."
Blaine grinned and stuck his nose into vibrant locks that smelled faintly of hibiscus. "Yes, I gathered that. Not sure how you missed it, though. Your friends didn't."
"I suppose people see what they expect to see."
"What did you expect?"
"For you to hate me," Kurt replied, as if it were only natural.
Blaine felt like he was missing some key element in this conversation. "Why?"
"Because I wanted you."
That cleared up precisely nothing. "Why would your wanting me make me hate you?"
Kurt shrugged within the circle of Blaine's arm. "That's how my life works. I don't get the things I want."
"You've got me." Blaine's voice had gone soft and cajoling, and he tipped up his irresistible pirate's face to show him with kisses that it was true.
Although Kurt knew he didn't really have Blaine, he pushed aside bothersome worries about the future and let himself soak up the wonder of now.
"You never answered my question yesterday." Blaine was the one snuggled up in a warm embrace the next afternoon. It was their second day in port and they'd already settled into a routine, with Blaine rifling through Captain's wardrobe in his absence and waiting, scantily clad, for his return. This led to enthusiastic sex, as intended, followed by cuddling and conversation. It was heavenly.
"Hmm? What question?" Kurt murmured drowsily.
"Did you always want to be a pirate?" Blaine felt and heard the chuckle that rumbled under his ear.
"No," Kurt answered simply.
"Not until you grew up, you mean?"
"No. Never."
"Oh." Blaine waited, perplexed. "Well, what happened, then?" he asked, applying a small nipple twist for the short, unsatisfactory reply, then almost forgot his question when Captain giggled at him. Giggled! He was too cute. Also naked. Blaine lifted the sheet covering their hips for a peek underneath. The giggles were cut short by an indignant squeak and Blaine's hand was batted away.
"Lech," Kurt accused and tucked the sheet under his bottom on the opposite side from Blaine, who pressed closer, insinuating a hairy knee between Kurt's thighs.
"Are you going to answer me or will I have to pinch you again?" Blaine's thumb and forefinger poised threateningly.
"Fine!" Kurt manfully suppressed further giggles. "You want to know how I became a pirate. Well, it was what you might call an accident." He stared off into nothingness, reliving events he would never forget. Two silent minutes later, he was pinched but good. "Hey!" He gave Blaine's hand another slap.
"Start talking, or it'll be my teeth next time."
Was that supposed to be a threat? Hmm. Kurt weighed his options. On the one hand, it wouldn't be difficult to distract Blaine, considering they were undressed and in bed. On the other hand, no matter how thoroughly Kurt wiped it from Blaine's mind for the time being, the topic was sure to rear its ugly head later. He sighed in defeat. "I suppose you weren't that far off before. In a way, it did start with my mother."
"Because she read you glorious pirate adventures?"
"No. She died."
"What?" Blaine jerked up onto an elbow to look down into a sad, distant expression. "I'm so sorry. Does it bother you to talk about this? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"It's all right. It happened a long time ago." Kurt pulled him down for a sweet kiss, tongue gently stroking into Blaine's mouth again and again until he earned a low, whimpered moan. Then he settled his somewhat dazed lover snugly back into his side. An arm was pushed under the small of Kurt's back and another wrapped around his waist as Blaine clung to him.
It was a full minute before Blaine, mouthing a lean, pale chest, recalled that he'd wanted to talk now and kiss later, not the other way around. When he did, he could only admire the sneaky tactics that had nearly succeeded in diverting him again. "How old were you?" he asked, not bothering with remonstrations.
Kurt smiled at his persistence. "I was eight," he said and was squeezed in response. Blaine's face was still buried in his torso, but his shoulders had tensed and the kisses along Kurt's breastbone paused. Kurt sank long fingers into the thick curls at his nape to let him know it was okay to ask.
"What about your father?" Blaine held his breath, ready to drop the subject and spend hours making up for it if the news was bad.
"My father is the best person I've ever known. I don't know how I would have survived without him."
Able to breathe again, Blaine relaxed his hold and turned his head to rub his cheekbone against Captain's smooth chest like an adoring cat. "I'm glad you didn't have to go through that alone."
"So am I. Even if nothing else in my life ever goes right, at least I am my father's son. I'll always have that."
"He's lucky to have you, too." Blaine mulled over his next question. Though he would have liked to argue against the captain's apparent belief in his own bad luck, he didn't know enough about his past. Not yet, anyway. "Does he know about you?"
"Does he know what, that I'll never marry and give him grandchildren?"
Blaine chuckled. "No, that isn't what I meant, but now I'm curious. Does he know about your, um, predilections?"
"My predilections. I like that, and yes, he does. It took me a long time to work up the courage to tell him, but I finally did."
"You're braver than I am. How did he take it?"
"He hugged me and thanked me for trusting him. Apparently, he had suspected it for years."
"Really?" Blaine's head popped up. "I wonder if my father knows." He frowned. "No, it's impossible. I can just imagine walking up to him and saying, 'Father, it's time you knew that I will never marry, because I like cock and taking it up the ass.' I'd be disowned faster than I could finish that sentence."
"I'm sorry." Kurt hugged him tighter. "I wish everyone could have a father as wonderful as mine."
"I'm sure my father loves me, somewhere, deep, very deep, inside," Blaine said unconvincingly. He couldn't remember ever receiving a fatherly hug, except from Mr. Figgins. "But we've gotten off topic." He gave Captain a mock glare. "What does any of this have to do with you being wicked and dastardly?"
"You think I'm wicked?" Kurt asked, flattered.
"Very. In fact, you're much too sexy for someone so nefarious. I'm sure you must have an evil plot to lure me into your bed." Blaine, sprawled wantonly atop the man, scowled down into his grinning face. Or tried to. Blaine had never had much practice at scowling.
Kurt's hands glided down to scoop and knead Blaine's supple buttocks. "Surely you can resist me if your thoughts are pure," he murmured silkily.
With a sigh, Blaine let his scowl melt away. "That's just it. My thoughts want me to suck your dick and ride you like a racehorse."
"It sounds like you are the wicked one." Prying the cheeks apart, Kurt circled a fingertip around the furrowed skin that made Blaine shudder and spread his thighs.
"Yes. It does," Blaine whispered, head tilting forward and thoughts scattering when the teasing finger pushed inside.
"Ouch. What was that for?" Kurt opened an eye to peer upward and rubbed at the spot where he'd just been smacked.
"For distracting me with your wiles instead of explaining how one accidentally becomes a pirate. Don't think I'll fall for that again," huffed Blaine, whose gaze jumped quickly from Captain's hand caressing his own rear back to the single sea-blue eye that nevertheless was able to convey a great deal of humor.
Amused became sultry in a blink. "As I recall, it was you who wanted to saddle me up and ride me."
"Yes. Well." Blaine's airway felt constricted. "Be that as it may, you've evaded my question long enough." He tried the scowling thing again. Captain smiled. "Please?" Captain kissed him.
These days, Kurt was having a hard time not smiling at or kissing Blaine. Luckily, he didn't have to not do those things anymore. He kissed him again to prove the point. Blaine growled threateningly while kissing him back. Blaine, as it turned out, didn't have a good grasp on how to threaten.
When Blaine broke the kiss and pulled a pout, however, Kurt couldn't say no. "Are you sure you want to hear this?" Blaine's head nodded vigorously against the pillow.
With that, Kurt told him briefly of his grief over the loss of his mother, admitting to a childish anger at the unfairness of it and touching on the fear of losing his father as well. Blaine held him close, quietly letting Kurt unburden himself. He made it so easy that Kurt even confessed to the adolescent excursions through the city that he had thought of as his patrols.
"Did your father know what you were doing?"
"I don't think so. He knew I did a lot of walking, but I'm sure he would have tried to stop me had he known where I was going, or why." Kurt gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "It's a wonder I'm still alive." Blaine didn't laugh. "Anyway, one day I found the trouble I'd been looking for."
The story of the little girl's kidnapping came out haltingly; what he'd witnessed and how he had instinctively run and jumped onto the carriage before it could get away. Blaine's arms grew progressively tighter as the tale unfolded until Kurt could hardly breathe. Yet, for some reason, he didn't mind.
Looking back, Kurt was embarrassed at the half-baked, childhood notion that if he could make bad guys go away, everything would somehow magically be better. How he would manage such a thing was never exactly laid out in his mind. All he'd had was an end goal, not a plan, still too young to realize the difference. "I've never told anyone this," he said quietly, listening to Blaine's steady pulse under his ear, "but deep down in my secret heart, I had this crazy idea that if someone else had done the same thing sooner, if the world had been a better place, then my mother might have lived."
Blaine ached for the poor little boy who had lost his mother, wishing with all his heart that there was something he could have done, or something he could say now to take the pain away. But there was nothing. All he could do was hold him and listen and not judge.
The comfort Kurt received from just being in Blaine's arms was indescribable. It was nothing like a hug from his father or Lauren. Lying there in bed, being cuddled by Blaine, he felt more at peace than he could ever remember. The dark, frozen knot of impotent anger he had carried around for most of his life began to dissolve away, and as they held each other, he said a silent goodbye to his beloved mom.
"Are you all right?" Blaine asked gently, kissing the top of Captain's head.
"Yeah. I'm good," said Kurt, and meant it in a way that he hadn't in a long time. "Where was I?"
"You had just saved a sweet little girl from kidnapping or worse, and I imagine you were about to tell me that, afterward, your father locked you in the attic for a year."
Kurt snorted. "He probably kicks himself now for not thinking of that, and that 'sweet little girl' was a hellion, I'll have you know. While I was leaving clumsy hand prints all over the driver's face, she was inside the carriage, screaming bloody murder. She tried to bite the nose off the poor bastard who snatched her, you know, and from the way he was curled into a ball when they pulled him out, I'm guessing she landed some very well-placed kicks too. He was probably grateful to be locked away afterward."
Blaine laughed. "She sounds like someone I would like."
"I wonder what ever happened to her," mused Kurt. "She's probably married and starting on her own little brood of hellions by now."
"I feel for her husband," Blaine sympathized. "So, what happened next? After your stint in the attic, or wherever your father was forced to contain you for your own safety."
"Locking me up wouldn't have done any good, I'm afraid. No, what he did was far more devious. He put me to work."
"Doing what?"
"He got me a job at the harbor where he worked. I had already been on several voyages with him as a child, but after that I was around ships and sailors all the time. That was where I fell in love with the sea, despite my status as a lowly landlubber."
"And that was when you decided you wanted to become a pirate?" Blaine asked, befuddled by the convoluted story that never seemed to point toward the captain having a sudden urge to loot and pillage.
"No," huffed Kurt. "You're fixated on my wanting to be a pirate."
"But..."
"I know. I can see how you might think that."
"Exactly," Blaine agreed in exasperation. "Explain, please."
"Like I said, I met a lot of sailors–"
"Wait," Blaine stopped him, brow arching. "Exactly what kind of story is this?"
Kurt punched him lightly on the arm. "Hush. I was fifteen."
"Old enough. I don't know many boys who would wait longer than they had to."
"Maybe I had to."
"I don't believe that. Don't forget, I know what you look like."
Though the compliment made Kurt smile, he nevertheless argued. "I looked different then, and younger than my age."
"This isn't that kind of story, then?"
"Definitely not."
"Oh."
"Would you still like to hear it?"
"I suppose." Blaine's exaggerated sigh of disappointment drew a note of musical laughter that made his chest feel tight.
"Would it help if I fondle you while I speak?" asked Kurt.
"It would help if you fondle me at all times," said Blaine, his sigh turning pleased when a hand slipped between his thighs. "What were you doing with all those sailors then, if not making them glad to be alive?"
"Talking."
"Talking with tongue, or–?"
"They know things," Kurt said, mostly ignoring him, but tugging gently at the soft skin of his scrotum. "They travel all over the world and they talk to each other, share information."
"What kind of information?"
"Everything imaginable, from the frivolous to the appalling."
"Appalling." Blaine went quiet, carding fingers through Captain's silky locks.
"Yeah," Kurt said quietly, thinking back while tracing the dark line of hair down Blaine's stomach. "One day, I heard a story about children disappearing from harbor towns."
"Another kidnapper?" Blaine frowned.
Kurt's head shook. "This was different than the little hellion. These kids were disappearing from the poorest neighborhoods and there were no ransom demands. They were just gone."
"What did you do?" Blaine asked with dread.
Kurt dragged his head back from the middle of Blaine's chest to look up at him. "What would you do if you knew a child was in danger?"
"I'd tell the magistrate! Isn't it his job to catch criminals?"
"My father tried that, but all we had to report were rumors of children going missing from different towns. There was no proof that they were connected, and magistrates have no authority outside their own jurisdictions."
"They didn't do anything?"
"Nothing productive," confirmed Kurt.
"That's terrible. What did you do?" Blaine's tone had changed from disapproving to demanding.
"The only thing I could do," Kurt answered grimly. "I thought the criminal had to be a sailor, so I went looking. At each port, I hired someone to quietly find out which ships had been there when kids went missing. It took weeks. The wait was hell. But in the meantime, I took the money I'd been saving to buy my own merchant ship, and used it to get a small, fast frigate. Then my father and brother and I rounded up enough people we trusted to sail her. By the time we had a trail to follow, we were ready."
"You found out who it was and, instead of telling someone, you went after him yourself?" Blaine was starting to feel queasy. "He could have been a psychotic child killer!"
"All the more reason to stop him."
Blaine gurgled something unintelligible and wrapped both arms around his lover's shoulders in a vice-like grip. Captain took it without complaint. "What happened?" Blaine asked, when he was calm enough to speak again.
"We had the name of a ship to track down, but we still had no idea which sailor might have done it and no authority to search the ship."
Blaine tensed further, feeling that the captain was prefacing something terrible with his reasoning.
"It was Abe's idea, actually," Kurt stalled.
"What was Abe's idea?"
"To just," Kurt drummed nervous fingers on Blaine's chest, "board them at sea."
"Why would they let you do that?"
"They didn't let us. We attacked them. At night. In disguise." Kurt grimaced, awaiting the fallout.
"What do you–? Oh my God. You're not pirates!"
"Of course we're pirates!" Kurt glared in offense. "Now," he finished with considerably less heat.
"No, you're not. You're vigilantes! I don't know why I didn't see it before. None of your crew... Almost none of your crew are the mean bastards I would've expected. They're really nice. So nice that it's easy to forget they're supposed to be thieves and murderers. It's all becoming clear now."
Kurt's chin plopped back onto Blaine's chest. He pondered the idea of being called a vigilante and had to admit he didn't hate it. It still made him a criminal, but one who broke the law for moral reasons, for the good of others, not for personal gain.
"We have to tell people," Blaine was excitedly ranting. "We have to let the public know what you're doing and get all those awful Wanted posters taken down. People think you're a pirate!" he shouted, as if this were news.
Kurt automatically shook his head, but Blaine was lost in his own newly discovered world.
"Did you find the kidnapper? I'll bet you taught him a lesson, huh?" He gasped. "That means there was a criminal aboard the Iron Fist, wasn't there! Was it Smythe? You know, I thought there was something off about that man. From the moment we met, I didn't trust him. Did you ever meet someone who just made your skin crawl for no apparent reason? Brrrh," he shuddered.
"Blaine –"
"I'm so proud of you." Blaine craned his neck, grabbing both sides of Captain's head to pull him in for a kiss. "It's much too dangerous, though, what you've been doing. We'll need to find another way, something that will keep you safe and still land the bad guys in jail." He barely slowed long enough to inhale. "They do end up in jail? I can't wait to hear how you manage that. But I mean, what else can you do with them? It's not like you're a killer. I know Captain Clarington ended up dead, but I'm sure it was his own fault. Gah!" he exclaimed. "To think of how many times you've put yourself at risk. If not for pure luck, we might never have met!" Blaine clutched at the man sprawled on top of him, though they couldn't physically get much closer.
"Blaine." Kurt's voice could barely be heard from where his face was now pressed into Blaine's neck. He nuzzled it some, since he was there.
"We should celebrate. I think you deserve a reward for all your good deeds." Blaine cupped the captain's head again, popping it out of its cozy nook. "What would you like? Want to play Pirate and Captive? I could put up a struggle," he whispered, naughty brows wiggling invitingly. "Or maybe you'd rather lie back and let the nice cabin boy take care of all your needs? I promise to follow your orders to the letter, Sir. Or if you really want to relax, you can put yourself entirely in my hands."
"Blaine."
"Tell me, Captain," Blaine's eyes darkened, "have you ever come just from having your balls sucked? I think we could make that happen."
"No, Blaine, I –" Kurt was shaking his head again until the last comment registered. "What?"
Taking advantage of the body gone slack above him, Blaine quickly rolled them over and began trailing kisses along his collarbone, hands smoothing up long arms that didn't surprise him with their strength anymore, over broad shoulders and creamy, alabaster skin.
Their groins aligned and Blaine rocked gently, relishing Captain's guttural moan every bit as much as the rasping slide of cock against cock and the sparks that shot through him when the heads caught on each other.
"What'll it be, Captain?" his voice rumbled from somewhere deep within, like the purr of a contented feline. "Shall I take care of you?" Hands still exploring, Blaine slid further down until he could bend forward and lick a stripe from groin to navel.
Kurt nodded, and kept nodding, and told himself to stop doing that. Blaine was going to take care of him. He didn't need to know the details of what he was agreeing to. With the dark gold of Blaine's eyes shimmering up at him and the warm, moist pink of his tongue dragging along Kurt's lower abdomen, it was bound to be good. So he lay still, limply basking in the incredible feeling of Blaine touching him. "I wonder if you have any idea how handsome you are," he murmured.
The corners of Blaine's mouth tilted up and his tongue dipped low again. Then his fingers tapped lightly against Kurt's knees, which spread far apart with ease and yes, Kurt was right. It was good.