Thanks for your patience, I promise I have more chapters coming after this as well. We're far from done! Just had some life get in the way. I apologize for the French, I had to use Google Translate and realize that it probably doesn't actually translate well. I'm keeping up the habit of having rockstar Blaine sing songs written by the one and only Darren Criss. He's an excellent song writer and hey, it's pretty neat that the lyrics happen to fit so many of the characters' situations. Thanks for sticking around!
"I just feel like I'm missing something important." Kurt was looking at all the bags he'd packed into the SUV for the honeymoon.
"I don't think you possibly could have. This is your entire apartment's worth of stuff." Blaine laughed and pressed a hand to Kurt's back as he gestured at the trunk with the other. "It's only a week and if you're missing anything, we can just go buy a replacement. We're going to the middle of one of the biggest cities in Europe, not a vacant island." Blaine led Kurt around to the door and opened it for him. "It's honeymoon time. No more worrying about things."
Kurt grinned at Blaine and hopped into the backseat, pulling his husband along behind him.
"Hey, we did not volunteer to take you to the airport, so you guys could start your honeymoon early in the backseat!" Mercedes swatted her hand behind her. Sam laughed as he watched the struggle through the rear view mirror.
"Yeah guys, we don't need to hear you getting it on." He paused to chuckle and whisper under his breath, "Again."
"My car, my freedom to make loud sex noises."
"Last time I checked that wasn't in the Bill of Rights." Mercedes threw the head of a flower from her bouquet back at Blaine. His tongue stuck out at her as Kurt plucked it out of his hair.
"We are going to be flying our entire wedding night. You guys can turn the music up really loud." Blaine wanted to sound like he was joking, but even he could hear the desperation in his voice.
"That's messed up, boy!" Mercedes fake gagged, while Sam pulled her hand into his.
"Yeah Blaine, ew." Kurt halfheartedly added. Looking Blaine up and down debating how quietly he could rip his shirt off.
After an infinitely long drive in which Kurt and Blaine could only steal small kisses and passionate looks, they arrived at the airport.
"Sam, you missed the turn to drop us off at the Delta gate." Kurt pulled away from Blaine to point his finger to the left.
"It's fine." Blaine pushed Kurt's finger down, looking away.
"Blaine?" Kurt waited patiently for an explanation. He really hoped whatever Blaine had obviously planned on surprising him with didn't interfere with his own surprise.
"Aural Intensity Records got us a wedding present." The hesitancy in Blaine's voice made it seem like Kurt might be mad he had accepted the gift.
"What did they give us?" Kurt looked around. "Are they letting us take the plane to Paris?"
"Not exactly. Hunter still needs it to handle things while I'm away on tour. But…"
"But what?" Kurt kept urging him on in the hopes that Blaine would stop trying to stall and just tell him.
"Well as you know, my album did really well."
"Yeah it was super popular."
"You could say that. It went multiplatinum."
"There's a multiplatinum?" Sam asked from the front, Mercedes shushed him, pulling on the headrest to turn herself around.
"Yes there is. We knew it would be popular in America and into Europe. We didn't realize that I had so many fans in Asia."
"People know about you in Asia?" Kurt sounded too surprised and Blaine laughed at the small amount of insult.
"Yeah I guess so. So anyway. Multiplatinum means really good things for the recording company and so to congratulate us and to thank me for sticking it to his enemies out in LA, Hunter got us a plane."
"He did what now?" Kurt's eyes flew wide. "He gave you a plane? That is yours? That you can use whenever and own?"
Blaine chuckled and nodded his head. "A plane that we own." He corrected and rubbed Kurt's hand.
"Oh no. Nope. No. It's going to take me a while to get used to calling you my husband. Don't make me consider the fact that I'm now legally in a completely different tax bracket."
Blaine laughed loudly, his chest rumbling. "You are something else." He glanced out the window and pointed, "That's our plane.
Kurt offered him a quick glare before he gave up and let his excitement take over. "It's cute."
Everyone laughed at Kurt's odd choice of adjective. Sam parked the SUV and they all hopped out to get a closer look. They were met by a man wearing a black sweater, black pants, and a head full of dreads tied up under an airline pilot's cap.
"Mr. Anderson. Mr. Hummel. Entourage." He nodded toward Sam and Mercedes as he approached, and they rolled their eyes. "It's great to meet you."
"Hi, you must be…," Blaine racked his brain for the name of their personal pilot but couldn't remember amidst all the chaos of the day.
"Joe." He inserted, smiling at Blaine.
"Sorry, Joe. Yes. I knew that."
"I'm sure you've had a crazy and blessed day."
"We have." Blaine took Kurt's hand and smiled back at him.
"Alright. The plane is all ready for takeoff. Though, it does need a name before we go."
"We have to name it?" The hair on Kurt's head flipped as he gave the man about to control a flying air pipe a considering look.
"Yes. The call sign is Cessna 22015 but I like for it to have a name just in case we need to talk to it."
"To the plane you mean?" Kurt clarified, trying not to squint his eyes.
"I think that's awesome. What do you want to name it, Kurt?" Blaine's thumb traced circles over Kurt's knuckle and the breath held up in his lungs let out as he considered how strange and wonderful his life was.
"I don't know? What do you usually name a plane?" The boys chuckled with their friends behind them, no doubt all thinking up humorous things to call such a phallic shaped object.
"It can be anything. It can mean something to you or just be fun or… whatever!" Joe shrugged and waited for them to think something up.
"Instinct tells me we should name the plane we are flying to Paris in Moulin Rouge, but it's not a red hotel so." Blaine looked to Kurt for ideas.
"Avion Blanc." He offered.
"What does that mean?" Sam rolled his eyes up to think if maybe he had just forgotten a few English words.
"White Airplane." Kurt looked over to Sam. "It's French."
"You're going to call it White Airplane?" Mercedes was skeptical. Placing a hand on her hip. "Isn't that a little boring?"
"No. We're going to call it Avion Blanc. Saying things in another language always makes things less boring!" Blaine grinned and turned back to Joe. "Avion Blanc it is."
"Awesome, man." He took a few steps toward their vehicle. "I'll get your things loaded. Anything you want with you for the flight and upon landing you will need to keep in the cabin with you, everything else goes underneath."
They walked with him and grabbed their change of clothes and toiletries. Joe smiled and hummed the entire time he was heaving their bags over his shoulder.
"Hey Joe. Do you mind if we bring these two to get a look inside?"
"Your guys' plane, man." Joe shouted over his shoulder as he made his way to the underbelly storage.
Kurt was the first to run up the stairs to the door. He clapped the whole way and Blaine, Mercedes, and Sam walked quickly trying to keep up with him.
When Blaine got onto the plane, Kurt was kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.
"Kurt, what's wrong?"
Kurt pulled his hands from his face for just a moment. "It's so nice in here. We get to own this."
"Kurt, I think your still a little emotional because of the wedding."
"You're my husband and we own a plane and were going to fly it to a flat in Paris. We have a Paris home, Blaine. That exists! A few months ago I just lived in a makeshift warehouse apartment, now I split my time between there, a penthouse on fifth avenue, and a freaking Paris apartment!" Blaine was laughing too hard to comfort his husband. Mercedes knelt down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Do you need to squeal?" She asked in all seriousness.
The pouted cheeks and small nod was answer enough.
"If you gentlemen will kindly turn your backs and cover your ears. We have a fanboy situation."
Sam nodded understandingly and did as he was told. Blaine followed suit a little more hesitantly.
A moment later, both Kurt and Mercedes were screeching. Mercedes was smacking Kurt's arm with both her palms and Kurt had shifted so he could kick his feet onto the ground.
Blaine turned around in the middle of their fangirling moment and cleared his throat. "If you're quite done?" He smiled at both of them. "Mercedes you best prepare yourself, pretty soon people are going to be having fangirl moments over you." Blaine pulled Kurt up and hugged him. "I thought you said you were almost done with those?"
"Shut up." He muttered like a teenager that has been mocked for liking a childish thing.
Blaine kissed Kurt's pouted lips then turned to their friends.
"It's a cool plane, man." Sam glanced around and Mercedes agreed, touching the soft leather of the seats.
"We will have you guys on it sometime. We better get going though. Paris awaits." Sam and Mercedes gave their hugs and goodbyes and trampled down the steps. Joe appeared a few moments later, with his hair falling out and his hat in his hand.
"Are you guys ready?"
"We sure are." Kurt grinned broadly and looked quickly around the plane once more.
"Okay. I'll just give the quick intro, flight summary, and safety plans and we will be on our way."
"So this is your plane." He held his arms out. "Avion Blanc. It's a Cessna. There is a bathroom just through the door at the back. If things get too warm, much like a commercial plane, there are small controlled fans above each seat. Feel free to sit on the couch and walk freely about the plane once we reach altitude but until then, I prefer you sit in these two seats, buckled up. The plane can't make it all the way across the ocean from here to Paris so there will be stops along the way. Think of it as going in a big upward arch. We will stop in New Foundland, Iceland, Greenland, Scotland, then land in France. This isn't strictly necessary, but we do this to make sure everything is functioning properly and that there is enough gas. I will let you know how much time we will be landed for and you are free to leave the plane for a small amount of time to stretch out and get some fresh air."
Blaine and Kurt smiled, ready to thank him and move on but he took a big breath and kept going.
"In the case of an emergency, flotation devices are located below each seat and under the cushions of the couch. Masks will fall above only the front and rear facing seats, in the case of lost pressure in the cabin. When the buckle light is on, you need to be seated in one of the front facing seats with a buckle on. Any questions?"
The two men just shook their heads and smiled at their pilot.
"Rad. Mr. Clarington has provided you with food and drink located in the cooler at the back of the plane. If you would like to use the televisions, the remotes are secured in the arm compartment of the couch. If you would like to listen to music, you will find that also in the compartment, keep in mind that the music can only go so high to prevent distracting the cockpit."
"Thank you so much, Joe. Just give us the announcement when we're taking off and we'll get buckled." Joe gladly left the men in the plane. Entering the cockpit and closing the door.
"I have never seen someone with dreads say rad and make it sound professional."
"Was he wearing shoes?" Blaine laughed looking at Kurt.
"They were made of canvas." Kurt laughed too, his eyes sparking. "He seems like a good guy though."
"Kind of like a modern-day Jesus."
"Well I'm glad Jesus is taking the wheel." Kurt joked.
As soon as the flight leveled, they jumped out of their seats and looked at everything. Blaine got comfy on the couch as Kurt returned from the back with a bottle of wine and two cups.
"I kinda figured there would just be Sprite or something."
"Oh no, my dear." Blaine pulled him down onto the couch and grabbed a plastic cup from his hand, raising it in the air, the Handersons fly in style.
Kurt glared at him and Blaine met his eye with a low chuckle as he opened the wine.
"Fine you can call us that in private. But don't say it outside of our circle of friends. Carole was right, having hand in your name opens a lot of possibilities for the media."
So Kurt. It is our wedding night and we are on a private plane thousands of feet in the air. What do you want to do?" Blaine said it with a sultry wink.
"Can I be honest?" Kurt let himself slouch. "I kind of want to just do nothing. Last night was crazy, and this morning was crazy, and obviously the reception was crazy. I still can't believe your mom and Carole did that little dance thing in front of everyone. But my adrenaline has been pumping nonstop. I think I just need a little time to relax.
Blaine fell against Kurt laughing. "Oh thank God I was thinking the same thing but I figured you would want to you know like consummate the marriage."
"Consummate the marriage?" Kurt giggled. "Well you can call the short make out session on the car ride to the plane our bedding ceremony."
Blaine's body shook against Kurt's as he chuckled. He sat up and downed the wine. Kurt took his slowly, staring deeply at Blaine.
"You look disappointed." Blaine noted as he poured himself another cup. Offering some to Kurt as well.
"I'm sorry I just can't stop staring at you."
"Why?" Blaine raised a thick eyebrow at his husband.
"Because you're here. And we're here," Kurt emphasized gesturing at the plane. "I keep having these moments where I think, this can't be real. No one falls in love with their celebrity crush and marries them." Kurt paused to take a breath and Blaine took the opportunity to correct him.
"Ringo Starr married a fan."
Kurt laughed at the random interjection before continuing. "That first day, after we were on the yacht. You kept mumbling about being Rockstar, Blaine Anderson and just Blaine and I didn't get it. I didn't understand how you could be two different people. But now I find myself sometimes forgetting that you are a rockstar. Now that I've seen just Blaine. He's all I see. Blaine the musician, the romantic, the dork, the tease. All these things that are the Blaine Anderson that only I know. It makes me forget sometimes that you are still that Blaine Anderson I thought I knew before with the charm, and the sex appeal, and the stupidity." Blaine was leaning against Kurt pulling every word he was saying out of the air and decoding it.
"What do you mean? That you forget, I have a two-month long tour starting in a week and you won't get your "just Blaine" back until it's over?" Blaine smiled sadly at him. Obviously, the separation was forefront in his mind. Kurt happily glided over the subject.
"I just mean that I've seen you wash dishes so many times, I can hardly imagine what it would be like if you hired a maid. I've seen you at a loss for words. I watched you sit beside a dead woman's grave in the cold to talk to a headstone. I've seen all these things, no rockstar could ever do, hardly many men would do and it makes me forget sometimes that you really are two different people."
"Does that bother you?"
"Does it bother me that I get an entire you all to myself instead of having to share one with everyone else in the world? Especially knowing now that I would have to share with even more people than we all originally thought."
Blaine caught the sarcasm and Kurt's raised brow and chuckled. "So for you, I am just Blaine and for everyone else I am Blaine Anderson?"
"Well I mean you don't have to hide Blaine Anderson away from me." Kurt blushed. "I am a bit of a fan of his."
"Oh you are?" Blaine joked leaning in closer. He put his face right in front of Kurt's. "I don't have a pen but I can sign an autograph with my tongue."
Kurt laughed and leaned back against the couch. Blaine followed him down, pressing against his chest before quickly rocketing up.
"I wrote another song."
"Your album just came out and you're already writing another one?"
"No, just another song. For you." Blaine smiled and sat up. "I don't have any instruments on here and it will require a whole band and some computer stuff, but I'll sing it anyways."
Kurt took another drink and gave him a smile. "I'm all ears."
Blaine scooted to the edge of the couch then put a hand on Kurt's knee and cleared his throat.
Every night in a different bed
The ceilings all look the same
Every light leaves a memory
I swear they're tracing out your name
A couple hundred miles from somewhere
And a couple more to go
Ask me what I remember
I say I really don't know
I was living a lonely life until I met you
I was living a lost boys life, it was all I ever knew
And every morning the sun comes up and the darkness fades away
I was living a lost boys life
It was all you had to say
It was all you had to say
After Blaine finished the song, Kurt's face lit up. "I give you a whole speech about sometimes forgetting who you are then you go and do that to remind me."
"Was it any good?"
"It was different." Kurt smiled.
"You don't like it." Blaine frowned a little and looked away, regretting having sang it before it was completely finished.
"No! I love it. The lyrics are awesome and I can tell what you're going for. It's just different than you usually sing. Not in a bad way."
"Okay good. Because I don't know what I would do if I lost my number one fan." Blaine fell forward onto Kurt's chest. They laid down across the couch, Blaine on top of Kurt. They talked about all the crazy happenings of the night before and the day of their wedding.
"How did you even get in the cage?" Kurt was still laughing about the impromptu Katy Perry performance.
"I met the cage dancers backstage when I was trying to hide from you. Jeff and David were trying to get me away from them, then I saw the loincloth and I had to stay." Blaine was laughing at his own crazy idea. "You looked like you were having fun crowd surfing."
"I was pretty drunk when it happened. The bar tender forced like three gay pride shots on me right when I got there." Blaine covered a smile. "One guy grabbed my butt to carry me around by though."
"Damnit mesh shirt guy. I told him not to get too handsy."
"I'm still so confused by that night."
"I'd had my fun partying. I wanted you to have one just absolutely amazing night with your friends before you're forced to party with me all the time."
"So you're saying I can't go out clubbing with strangers." Blaine glared at him before Kurt kissed his forehead laughing. "You of all people should know that that sounds like a waking nightmare to me."
"I know. I just wanted you to have a really fun night. And it was more fun for me to make you happy than play real life fruit ninja."
"So that's why you thought Jeff's martial arts would come in handy." Blaine laughed and buried his face in Kurt's chest.
"So I hate to be the one to bring it up, but we have a long trip and I will feel better about it when it's out." Blaine glanced up at Kurt, resting his chin against Kurt's sternum. "We were both attacked by him in a twenty-four-hour period."
"Kurt." Blaine twisted his head back and forth against Kurt's chest and closed his exasperated eyes.
"I know. I know. But that was a lot."
"I'm okay. You're okay. We just have to take that and move on."
"He's in jail, right?"
"Yes. He was arrested. We don't know yet if they've posted bail. There is no evidence of last night, but he should at least be charged with assault because of what he did to you."
"So, he might get out of jail."
"There's no way to know, Kurt."
"He's a lawyer. He will find a way out."
"We're keeping tabs on him." Blaine scooted up Kurt's body so they were face to face. "And I'm not letting you out of my arms, so you will be safe."
Kurt had a million more questions and concerns, but he remembered it was their wedding night and they shouldn't spend it discussing one of the grooms' murderous family member.
They were still groggy from the long flight, when Joe called from the cockpit that they needed to buckle for landing. The two rolled off the couch where they had been napping together and scurried to their seats to buckle up. They held hands across the aisle. Kurt tugged on Blaine's hand as he looked out the window.
"There it is. One of our homes." Kurt sighed as he glanced across the still foggy late morning air.
"It's strange isn't it? It's our home but neither of us have been here."
"Hopefully it doesn't suck."
Blaine rolled his eyes at his husband. "It better not after how much we paid." Kurt scoffed at Blaine's insistence upon a shared bank account. Another discussion for another time.
"Do you want to wait until the end of the week to post pictures here so we aren't bothered?" Kurt had taken his phone out to get a picture of the city through the rapidly descending window. He turned the camera on them and smiled widely as Blaine made a goofy face in the background.
"Yeah. We can post as many as we want after. But the fewer people that know we are here on our honeymoon the better." He leaned across the aisle to kiss Kurt's ear. "I want us to have our alone time."
"Alone with Jeff." Kurt corrected.
"Actually." Blaine lifted his chin with a smug grin. "I got him a hotel down the street, so he won't be staying in the guest room of our apartment."
Kurt bit his lip and leaned closer. "Good then we won't have to be quiet."
"And Jeff being there has stopped you before?" Blaine chuckled, Kurt had never been the quiet one.
"Shut up." He turned his head back toward the window to watch as they circled Paris, the Eiffel tower poking up above the sun shaped street layout. "It's amazing." He sighed. Blaine rolled his lip in as he smiled at Kurt, wondering how on Earth he got so lucky.
"It really is."
Kurt followed the angle of Blaine's finger up to the old stone building. They both gazed in awe at the historic Parisian limestone. Each window and balcony door was surrounded by a small black wire fence. The taxi driver gave them a toothy smile through the rearview mirror.
"C'est beau."
"C'est." Kurt agreed. Blaine looked between the two, worried. He handed the man a wad of cash.
"Merci." He mumbled.
"A tout moment, homme riche." He held the wad up before stuffing it in his pocket. Kurt giggled and pulled a nervous looking Blaine out of the taxi, as the driver unloaded the trunk and jammed their belongings at the door man.
After the taxi drove off, Blaine and Kurt were still standing hand in hand on the sidewalk looking up at the building.
"Bienvenue a la maison. Monsieur Anderson. Monsieur Hummel." He grinned at them absently, hoping they would get the memo to step inside, so he could show them up to their door.
"Merci beaucoup. Parlez vous anglais. Mon mari ne sait pas francais."
"Laisse parlons de lui. Quel bel homme. Bon choix!" Kurt and the doorman laughed as Blaine looked between them, lost and worried.
"What is he saying, Kurt?" Blaine whispered out of the side of his mouth.
"I was saying, Mr. Anderson, that we are glad to have you here at La Plaza Amour."
Kurt nodded too aggressively, and Blaine knew he was hiding something. "Yep. That's what we were saying." Kurt assured with a grin.
"Your husband was telling me you don't speak French, I sorry my English is not good, but hope you understand?"
"Yes. Thank you. I'm sorry, I took Spanish in High School."
The doorman gave him a blank nod. Obviously, he was unfamiliar with American schooling. He didn't waste time asking about it.
"The owner will be over shortly to give you tour. Show you to your home. And discuss your photo shoot."
"Thank you, sir."
"Gerard, please." He held a hand out and Blaine took it firmly.
"I'm Blaine and that's Kurt."
"If it's all the same to you, Blaine." Gerard whispered and looked around conspiratorially. "The owner will put me to the guillotine if I don't address you as Monsieur Anderson and Monsieur Hummel."
"Very well. I don't want to cost you your head, Gerard. Thank you for helping us, uh Merci." Blaine added, testing out again the only French he knew.
"Tres bon." Gerard stated unenthusiastically over his shoulder as he walked off with their luggage.
"Monsieur Anderson! C'est super de te rencontrer! Votre maison est prete. Est ton mari ici?"
Blaine backed away slowly from the unusually loud woman, shouting at him in French.
"Uhhh Kurt."
Kurt rejoined Blaine from where he was running his hand over a few expensive looking decorative pieces in the grand lobby.
"Bonjour. Je suis Kurt Hummel. Blaine ne parle pas Francais. Parlez vous Anglais?"
She looked very worried.
"Je suis desole. Je ne parle pas Anglais. Etes vous son traducteur?"
"Je suis son mari en fait." Kurt held a hand out and offered her a withering smile.
She took it and slapped her forehead. "Je suis stupide. Monseuir Hummel, c'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer. Je vais avoir un traducteur."
Kurt shook her hand and laughed. "Ce n'est pas necessaire." Kurt whistled to draw Blaine's attention back in and gestured for him to follow the owner.
Kurt translated as she led them through the lobby and pointed out things.
"She said that statue was repossessed from a looter after World War 2 and donated to this historic site where it belongs."
"She doesn't speak any English?"
"No, Blaine. But it's okay. I'm rather fluent."
"It seems like nobody in France knows any English."
"If a French person came to the US, you wouldn't be able to communicate with them either."
"I really wish I had taken French."
"Just wait until we get to Spain. Then I'll be the confused puppy." Kurt ruffled Blaine's hair and focused back on the woman musing over parts of the building she was clearly very fond of.
Blaine considered what Kurt said for a moment, but shook out of his wonderings when he realized he had fallen behind. Here was not the place to get lost.
The boys stood speechless in the doorway of their flat.
"Wow."
"Is it possible this is better than the picture made it seem?"
"Wow."
Kurt chuckled over at Blaine who was turning his head slowly back and forth, smiling at the beautiful space in front of them.
"You're not usually speechless." Kurt put his hand on Blaine's back.
"This is.. This is amazing."
"It really is." The building's owner smiled proudly at them, unsure of what they were saying, but pretty sure she knew what they were thinking.
"Est-ce que tout est parfait?"
"Oui, merci." Kurt smiled at the owner and she nodded at Gerard to bring the rest of their bags inside.
"Voici mon numero de telephone si vous avez besoin de quoi que ce soit." She held a business card, which Kurt took with a smile and put in his back pocket. She bowed her head quickly and then turned away and left them to it. Blaine was still grinning and looking about the flat as Gerard passed him.
"Take a step inside, handsome. Make yourself at home."
Blaine laughed as Kurt pushed him through the living room, straight across to the French doors by the balcony.
"Oh my God, Kurt. This place is perfect."
Kurt pulled him into a heated kiss, the sounds of Paris on the streets below their balcony. "The perfect place, the perfect man. How did I ever get so lucky?"
Blaine wanted to have a romantic response for his husband. A quick compliment perhaps. He was so lost in the moment all he could think about was the week stretch of time he had with Kurt, before they had to go their separate ways. He looked at the sea glass eyes in front of him and pulled his husband back in.
His tongue lapped at Kurt's lower lips and slid its way between them. Kurt giggled and pulled back. "Blaine." He chuckled as he pulled away from Blaine trying to nip at his lip. "We're not alone here. Also, we are on a balcony. Not really low profile."
"Screw them all." He nuzzled his face into Kurt's neck and sniffed the remainder of his cologne that pooled in the dips of his collarbone.
"Well. I'd prefer you only screwed me." Kurt laughed and Blaine's pants twitched.
"Oh Gerard."
"Yes, Monsieur Anderson?"
"Is everything brought up?"
"Yes." Gerard gestured to the bags in his hands that he had just walked in with. The last of the load.
"Perfect. Drop them. We can handle it. That will be all."
"It's no problem. I can take them to your room."
"Perfectly okay. Thank you so much." Blaine pushed a wad of cash toward him. "For your troubles. Have a good night, Gerard!"
Blaine was basically pushing him by the shoulder out the door. Kurt was biting down on a finger to keep himself from laughing, while he waved with the other hand. "Bye. Gerard."
"Try not to break anything gentlemen. We have a reputation to uphold." He allowed himself to be pushed out of the flat and Blaine slammed the door closed behind him. Whirling on his toe to face Kurt, who yiped and ran toward the bedroom. Blaine charged behind him, ripping his shirt off as he went.
"Agh Blaine. Let me at least take my shoes off."
"Keep them on." Blaine's breath was heavy as he tugged at his pant leg, tripping over the other one.
"You're a mess. Let's take things slow." Kurt put a hand out and patted the bed beside him. Blaine pouted and trudged over, dragging one leg of his pants behind him, while one leg was still plastered on up to the thigh.
He plopped down beside his husband who gently tugged at the other leg, freeing him from his skinny jeans. Kurt leaned back on his elbows and kicked his doc marten clad feet out in front of him, before smiling over at Blaine.
He dropped off the bed onto his knees and started on the laces. He wriggled the shoes off Kurt's feet and tossed them across the room.
"Hey those are my new ones!"
"There will always be new ones, Kurt." Blaine none too kindly removed Kurt's socks and pants, treating them the same as the shoes. "How about a foot massage?"
"I said let's take things slow. Are you trying to over excite me?"
"That depends." Blaine glanced up, a sultry look playing across his thick eyebrows. "Will it work?"
"You and your tests. I am not a sexual guinea pig." Kurt tried to sound serious, but Blaine was already rubbing his feet and hitting sensitive spots that made Kurt giggle.
"Yes, you are." Blaine kept rubbing Kurt's foot as he kissed up his calf. He switched feet and did the same thing.
"I can sense a foot massage wasn't all you planned to do." Kurt whispered, already gripping the bed rather tightly.
"What gives you that idea?" Blaine paused his massage with his lips on Kurt's inner thigh and one of his legs thrown over his shoulder.
"You are insatiable." Kurt threw himself back against the mattress, which in Kurt's humble opinion had to be made out of a thousand swan feathers, it was so damn soft.
"You make me insatiable." Blaine was suddenly on top of him. Scooting him back so he was stretched out across the bed, his freshly massaged feet just barely hanging off. Blaine pecked his lips before sliding down and shimmying Kurt's briefs off.
"Woah there, tiger." Kurt glanced down at Blaine who was kissing back up his thigh, his ass pressed up into the air.
"Are you saying you don't want me to?" Blaine smiled devilishy up at his husband, who's eyes went wide.
"I never said that."
"Good. Then keep your beautiful little mouth shut." Blaine winked and went to work, plunging the entirety of Kurt's cock into his mouth.
"HolyohmyBlaine." Kurt let out in a rush of air. His fingers crinkled the comforter below them. The swan feathers pulling him in as sensations grew stronger.
He peeled his head out of the downy mattress to glance down at Blaine, who was bobbing and humming around him. Kurt's head flew back as Blaine's tongue pressed warm and wet against the underside and nothing else. He slapped a hand around until he found Blaine's head and weaved his fingers through his curls.
"Go ahead, love," floated up to Kurt's ears. His eyes were squeezed shut as a tongue flicked at his head. "Fuck my mouth, Kurt." The words were sharper this time, and Kurt's fingers tightened on the curls. He began pushing down on Blaine's head as he thrust up. He heard a guttural choking a few times, but he didn't slow down. He kept matching his thrusts and soon his back was arching off the mattress out of pleasure.
Blaine's tongue flicked and slid all over by its own device. Predicting the unsteady rhythm of Kurt's near orgasm thrusts.
Kurt's eyes were still squeezed shut as fireworks exploded on his eyelids, heat grew as he came closer and closer to the edge. He pounded into Blaine's throat a few more times, the sounds of his moans clashing with those of Blaine's grunts. His eyes flew open, the view out the door of the buildings of Paris, matched with the excessive amount of cum ejaculating out of his cock made for a beautifully intense orgasm.
Blaine chuckled as every part of Kurt went limp. He hopped down from the bed and into the bathroom to wipe his face.
Kurt's eyes were fluttering, the edge of his vision blurred. A beautiful vignette of a Paris bedroom.
"Kurt, there's a jacuzzi in here!" Blaine's voice echoed off the bathroom tile.
Though his entire body was quivering in pleasure as it sunk into the comfortable swamp of a mattress, Kurt launched himself up and into the bathroom. The sound of a running bath already filling the flat.
"Hey, I thought maybe we could take a ba—" Kurt smashed into Blaine with his mouth causing the sentence to finish with a, "fwahph." Kurt's pelvis was the second thing to crash against Blaine, backing him against the counter. Kurt swiftly pulled his legs up and wrapped them around his waist as Blaine sat on the counter still wearing briefs.
After a solid minute of teeth mashing against each other and harsh nips, Blaine pulled away to breath. "So, is that a yes to a bath?"
Kurt's voice was throaty with lust as he answered with, "Underwear off now." Pointing firmly at the floor.
Blaine slid off the counter and took the instruction, bending over away from Kurt to slide them all the way down. Kurt swallowed hard, then turned to check the water temperature.
"Is this too hot?" He asked softly, his voice back to its normal caliber.
Blaine laughed at the sudden change as he walked over and put a hand in, swirling it around in the bubbles created by the jets. "No it feels fine to me."
"Good." Kurt lunged at Blaine, sweeping him off his feet and plunging him into the tub on top of himself.
"Ahh." Blaine screeched as his head dipped under. He came up right as Kurt did, spewing water from his mouth and pouting. "My hair." He frowned at Kurt and crossed his arms.
"Aw baby." Kurt playfully mussed it up, which elicited a childish razzle from his husband.
Kurt pulled him back against his chest and leaned back. "How does this honeymoon keep getting better?"
"And it's only just begun."
"A freaking jacuzzi, Blaine. It has a freaking jacuzzi. I don't think you'll ever be able to make me leave this place." Kurt's eye were shut as the jets massaged his back.
"But you will have to go home. You have a coffee shop." Blaine turned over and rested his chin on Kurt's shoulder, keeping himself under water by wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Let's not talk about that now, Blaine." Kurt hid his smile the best he could. "We're here to enjoy our honeymoon together."
"Did you hear Finn tell us to use protection because he wasn't ready to be an uncle as we left?" Blaine was chuckling in Kurt's ear.
"Yeah public-school sex education was basically just a substitute teacher wearing leather and singing Do You Wanna Touch Me."
"Wow. Public school was something else."
"Yeah. Luckily, I missed that day. Yet somehow the people that didn't, didn't seem to learn much."
"I don't know a substitute in leather seems like something to pay attention to." Blaine kissed along Kurt's shoulder.
"Oh yeah? Maybe you should have been there, since apparently you would have been into Holli Holiday."
"Oh I was thinking you meant that other substitute. The Spanish one."
"Oh Senor Martinez?" Kurt's voice got low again and Blaine looked up, then down into the water.
"Yeah him." He laughed, reaching a hand down.
"He wasn't a substitute. He was the night school teacher that ended up getting Mr. Schue's job."
"Why didn't he teach sex ed."
"Because we all would have been too distracted by his pearly white smile, we wouldn't have focused." Kurt mused at the memory of Senor Martinez's Sexy and I Know It performance.
"Yeah. That's what would have been distracting." Blaine slid himself further up Kurt, breathing into his ear. "Would you like me to speak in Spanish to you?"
"We are not role playing with you as the insanely attractive High School Spanish teacher."
"Tu eres positivo?"
"Blaine."
"Bien. Bien." He put his hands up and let himself float away from Kurt. Rolling over so the bubbles were hitting him from all sides. The only things sticking out of the water his face, his chest, his toes, and his very patient erection.
"Your turn to be taken care of."
Kurt slid down so his chin was just barely over the water. He let his hands slide down Blaine's side, massaging gently before pulling him down on top of him.