Luckily Carole came home before his dad did, so Kurt was able to talk to her in private without it catching his dad's attention. "Can Blaine stay over tonight? We made plans for him to come over tomorrow, but I thought it'd be easier if he just stayed over. I wouldn't even expect him to stay in my room, he said he's more than fine with the couch and-"

"Kurt." Carole cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. "I'm alright with him staying. After having your son's pregnant girlfriend live in your house for three months, a little sleepover is nothing. I'll still have to check with your dad, but I'll put in a good word. We like Blaine, he's a good kid."

Kurt let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Carole."

"You're welcome." She patted his shoulder. "Now I need to go take these shoes off, my feet are killing me."

"Oh, sorry, go on ahead." Kurt stepped out of her way and let her pass by. The shoes she was wearing were ones he's helped pick out for her, he felt bad knowing they were hurting her. Now more than ever he was glad he'd gotten her those Dr. Scholls for Christmas.

That done he went back to Blaine and their cocoon of light kisses and Roxy Music.

Later that night, after dinner and a video game contest with Finn, Blaine was settled against the couch cousins in a pair of Kurt's pajamas, navy ones with white lining that smelled intoxicatingly of Kurt. He closed his eyes and nuzzled into one of Kurt's spare pillows and wrapped tight in the couch blanket from Kurt's room. He should be relaxed being so entirely surrounded by Kurt's smell, but it was only making it more difficult to go to sleep. So much Kurt-smell was making his dick twitch in interest and no amount of wishing it would stop made Blaine's arousal go away.

He was in the middle of a stern lecture to himself about why he couldn't be aroused on the Hummel's couch when he got distracted; thinking of what he would have been doing that night if he wasn't at Kurt's. His mind flew to his nightstand and the lube within it. The gutter in his mind, grown large and dominate by this time, made the immediate jump to fingering himself and how hard Blaine got off on it.

Blaine bit his lip to keep the moan in. His dick, REALLY liking where the train of thought was going, immediately hardened. Blaine stretched out on his side, trying to get as little contact on his dick as possible, no matter how much he wanted to relieve some of the arousal in him. His movements made his ass press up into the back of the couch. Blaine had to stifle another moan. It was going to be a LONG night.

Sleeping in his bed, knowing Blaine was just downstairs, was a bit like torture. Kurt wanted nothing more than to slip downstairs and snuggle into Blaine's arms. Or, better yet, have Blaine come up the stairs and snuggle into HIS arms. Kurt hugged a pillow to himself, trying to pretend it was Blaine. The pillow was too soft and gave too easily. Still, Kurt hugged it tighter.

Blaine managed a little sleep, but it wasn't very restful. Either he kept thinking about how turned on he was, or he kept thinking about Kurt upstairs, so close but so far away. Blaine was fairly sure when he looked at his phone just after five that if Kurt had just been in his arms, he would have fallen asleep in minutes.

At 6:51 Kurt looked at his phone for perhaps the hundredth time that night. He groaned into the pillow he still clutched much too tightly. "Fuck it," he mumbled. "Dad can just get mad at me."

With that he rolled out of bed, irritated at the coldness of his room, and slipped his feet into slippers. He made his way down the stairs as quietly as he could and peered over the back of the couch. There Blaine was; hair a rumbled, curly mess and stretched out on his side.

Kurt came around the front of the couch just as Blaine opened his eyes. "Kurt," he said, voice thick with sleepiness.

"Scoot over," Kurt ordered gently. He put a hand on Blaine shoulder and pushed Blaine away from the back of the couch so he could climb in behind him. Blaine seemed to understand what Kurt wanted and moved accordingly. It was a little hard to climb behind Blaine, but Kurt managed it.

Blaine hummed happily and pressed his back against Kurt's chest. "Much better," Blaine mumbled.

Kurt kissed the back of Blaine's neck softly. Kurt pulled the blanket over himself and wrapped his arms around Blaine. He threaded their legs together, fitting their hips together on the narrow couch. Blaine pressed back against him a little harder, sighing so contently Kurt couldn't help but kiss him again. "So much better."

Kurt closed his eyes, deliciously warm and wrapped around the boy he loved.

Blaine woke again two hours later hard, aching, and biting back a moan as Kurt's morning wood pressed at the divide of his ass. Without any thought Blaine ground back on Kurt, mind flooding with a desperate need to feel Kurt on that part of his body.

Kurt's arm tightened around him and Blaine could feel his breath hitch. Blaine pushed back harder, a high whine ripping out of his throat. Suddenly Kurt thrust forward, his dick pressing so tight against Blaine's ass he was sure he'd pass out.

Then Kurt's arm was loosening and he was pushing Blaine's body away. "Blaine," Kurt hissed and, despite the tone, Blaine couldn't help but moan. "Blaine, my parents are home."

THAT made Blaine wake fully; suddenly aware of how bad an idea it was to be grinding on Kurt's living room couch. "Shit, I'm sorry."

Kurt let out a shaky breath. "Me too."

Blaine turned around carefully on the narrow couch. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Kurt smiled at him. Then he frowned and reached a hand up to cover his mouth. "Morning breath."

"Me too," Blaine said and shuddered. His breath was truly terrible in the morning, like something died in his mouth. No matter what he did it didn't go away. "Sorry." With that Blaine pulled himself out of Kurt's warm embrace. "I'll just go brush my teeth."

Kurt propped up on an elbow and watched him go. "I love you," Kurt called after him.

"I love you too," Blaine said over his shoulder.