Blaine was having a horrible day, there was no doubt. In truth, he was having a horrible week. Even though everything had worked out and the client had been overjoyed with his work, Kevin and his other bosses were still making sure he learned his lesson. Not only had they refused to give him the lead on the next project, but they were also treating him no better than an intern. More than a week later, he had hoped for a new project in which he would at least be allowed a hands-on role, even if supervised. But instead of sitting in on the meeting, he was sent out for coffee.

Blaine hated disappointing people, and his mood suffered for it. He moped in line as he waited to give the barista the extensive order, his head hung trying to think of a way to fix the situation. He couldn't come up with anything besides taking his punishment with a smile. To do that he would have to force himself out of his slump. When he got to the counter he raised his head and smiled, feigning happiness he didn't feel as he ordered. He knew it would be a long wait, so he looked around the small shop, trying to find something to interest him in this all too familiar space.

That was when he saw him. Tucked into a corner, a laptop open in front of him and a sketch pad in his hand, sat Kurt, another reason for his funk. He wasn't sure how his presence would be received by the other man. He had left with no way to contact him but also wasn't sure how honest Kurt was being when he said it didn't have to be a one-time thing. Maybe he was just saying that because he knew it was what Blaine wanted to hear. Regardless, Blaine couldn't let this opportunity pass him by. Kurt may tell him to go away, but if he didn't try he would never know if there could be something more. He squared his shoulders and crossed the space. Kurt's head didn't rise when he stood in front of him. He wasn't sure what to say but settled just on Kurt's name.

Kurt looked up, and Blaine could see the shock in his eyes for a moment.

"Hey, Blaine," he said evenly.

"It is really good to see you," Blaine tried.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "Is it?" he asked.

"Really, it is," he said. Hoping to win Kurt over with his honesty, he added, "I am so sorry for the other day. I got up to go to the bathroom, and my phone was going crazy with an emergency at work. I rushed out of there before I had a second to think. Only when it was too late did I realize that I had no way of contacting you again. I even tried to go back to Neverland a couple of times but you were never there."

Kurt laughed. It was a pleasant sound that eased some of Blaine's anxiety.

"Oh god, we never go there anymore it was a one-off that we were even there last week."

"May I sit?" Blaine asked.

Kurt smiled apologetically, "Sorry, I'm waiting on someone."

"A date?" Blaine asked before he could stop himself.

"God, no," Kurt said. Blaine wasn't sure what to think about his scandalized tone. "It's an interview. We are looking for people for the shop. He should be here pretty soon."

Blaine rubbed the back of his neck feeling awkward again. "Oh, well- I guess I should leave you to it then."

"Are you free later? It should only take an hour or so." Kurt said looking at him with his piercing eyes.

"I have to go back to work." Blaine frowned.

"Here," Kurt said pulling a card from the bag on the chair beside him. He flipped it over and wrote as he said, "Here is my number. When you get off, text me, and you can come back to my place." He flipped the card over and handed it to Blaine, who was too stunned to speak. "Here is the address of the shop, and my apartment is just upstairs Number 4. I'll buzz you in when you get there."

"I don't know how late it will be," he stammered.

Kurt shook his head with a coy smile, "Doesn't matter, I'm a night owl. And if memory serves correctly, you are worth staying up for."

"Okay," Blaine smiled, still feeling shell-shocked. He heard the barista call his name and saw the two drink carriers waiting for him on the bar. "My order's ready. I guess I will see you later," he added breathlessly.

"I guess you will," Kurt almost purred.

Blaine wasn't sure how he made his legs carry him out of the coffee shop, but somehow he made his way back to work all drinks intact. Back at his desk, he took out the card he had stuffed in his pocket. Starving Artist Tattoo, it read in big black letters, a raven atop the T. Beneath that was the name, Kurt Hummel, Tattoo Artist. Blaine couldn't help picturing Kurt's porcelain skin, embellished with its beautiful artwork. He had to force his mind back to his work even as his heart sped at the thought. His mind continued to stray as he sent emails and completed the rest of the tasks Kevin assigned. It was late before Kevin let him go but not before assuring Blaine that his punishment was over.

"I had to wait until you stopped moping." He told him as they walked out. "In this industry, you can't let one mistake get you down. You have to take charge, fix it, and move on. If you don't, no one will trust you again. I was impressed because you did the first two spectacularly. But you wouldn't let yourself move on, so I couldn't let you, either. Maybe next time we can just leave the coffee runs to the actual interns."

Blaine's stomach churned in anticipation as he made his way across New York to Hell's Kitchen. As he approached the address on the card, things began to look familiar. The dark tattoo shop sat on the corner, and his heart leaped into his throat. There was the door. He pushed the button for number four, and without a word from Kurt he heard the door click open. Up the stairs he went, and Kurt was waiting for him in his doorway. He was clearly in his pajamas and Blaine wasn't sure what to make of that. Still, he looked nice in a black Henley and low slung black pajama pants. "You made good time," Kurt smiled holding his hand out. Blaine took it only to be pulled into a lustful kiss. He pulled back in surprise.

"You okay?" Kurt asked looking concerned.

Blaine smiled, "Yea, just wasn't expecting that."

Kurt stepped aside and gestured for Blaine to enter. "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed …"

"No, it's fine, I guess I just wasn't sure what to expect." He said honestly.

Kurt smiled a little sadly.

"Maybe we should make sure we are on the same page first. You want some coffee, and we can talk?"

He gestured for Blaine to sit on the couch while he busied himself in the little kitchenette nearby. The silence was bothering Blaine. He felt like he had made a terrible misstep but wasn't sure what he could have done. Before he could work up the nerve to ask, Kurt was setting two cups of coffee on the cluttered coffee table along with creamer and a bowl of sugar. The silence lingered as they fixed their drinks.

Kurt leaned back facing Blaine, took a long sip of his drink, then said, "I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm sorry if I wasn't clearer on that earlier. I'm not looking for a relationship or anything like that. If you are, then I'm sorry I can't give that to you. What I can give you though is exactly what we had the other night. A good fuck with none of the complications."

Blaine wasn't sure what to think. This wasn't what he imagined "more" with Kurt would be. He would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed that the option wasn't there. He was, however, intrigued.

"What exactly do you mean?"

Kurt smiled seeing that Blaine wasn't completely ruling it out.

"I mean, if you are horny and want to get together, you can call or text me, and if I am free we will make it work. And I can do the same."

Blaine sat looking at Kurt for a moment, his lungs feeling as if they couldn't take in enough oxygen to power his brain. He could feel the familiar heat starting to build and knew he had his answer. He surged forward capturing Kurt's lips in a surprise kiss as he tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of his neck.

Kurt pulled back just enough to say, their lips brushing with the exchange, "I'll take that as a yes?"

"Fuck, as if I could say no," Blaine whispered, "I haven't been so well screwed in ages."

Kurt chuckled a deep, hungry sound before owning Blaine's mouth with his. He wasted no more time on pretense and soon they were both naked, grinding and kissing, sprawled across Kurt's couch. Blaine's body was begging for more, but his brain couldn't form more than the grunts, moans and keens that fell from his lips unbidden. He could feel the pull at the juncture of his neck and shoulder where Kurt seemed determined to mark him as their cocks rubbed so perfectly.

"More-" the low noise finally made it way out of Blaine's mouth.

Kurt pulled his face away from the spot he had been working on and looked down at Blaine with lust blown eyes. His smile was wicked, and he reached for a small box on the end table behind Blaine's head.

"God, I've been waiting for this all day."

Blaine could then see the bottle of lube and felt like weeping with want. He wasn't lying about Kurt being the best lay he could remember. He had honestly been thinking about this almost since the moment he had last walked out of this apartment.

Kurt knelt between his legs as he pushed them to Blaine's chest, exposing his ass. One hand pressed his knees down as the other squirted a cold line between his cheeks making Blaine jump. He didn't have long to think about the cold liquid sliding down his ass before two fingers were entering him, at once stealing all thoughts from his mind but for the string of expletives that flew from his mouth. Kurt twisted his fingers deep inside him.

"You okay?" He asked.

Blaine opened his eyes to see Kurt's concerned expression watching him.

"That was a good 'dear fucking god'," he said, arching his back, wanting more.

Kurt continued opening him up as he purred compliments at Blaine.

"Fuck, you have a fantastic ass, look at it open up for me. Have you been thinking about me?" he asked as he pumped four fingers inside Blaine.

"Every fucking time I jerked off," Blaine admitted before taking Kurt's wrist in his hand.

He whined as Kurt pulled his fingers out and felt his hole fluttering, wanting nothing more than to be filled again. He turned himself over and got on his hands and knees presenting his ass to Kurt behind him.

In a flash, Kurt was leaning over him taking a condom from that same box. Blaine let his head hang as he waited for Kurt to enter him. He didn't have to wait long before he felt the blunt head of Kurt's cock rubbing at his hole. He couldn't contain his shout as with one long, steady push Kurt impaled him with his rock hard cock. Fully seated, Kurt paused, panting behind him, but Blaine didn't want to wait to adjust. He wanted to feel this for days. He wasn't sure when he would have this again, and he wanted the ache to last as long as possible. Instead, he began fucking himself on Kurt, letting his cock pound into him, as he chased his orgasm. The noises coming from behind him spurred him on as Kurt joined in the frantic pace.

Blaine could feel his balls tightening, could feel his release creeping up on him. Then Kurt surprised him by pulling him back until he was sitting on his lap still connected.

Neither could move as they had before, but Kurt was impossibly deeper. Blaine could almost swear he could feel him in his stomach, although he knew it was impossible.

"I'm not going to have this over so soon," Kurt breathed in his ear. "We have all night. Let's use it."

He helped Blaine move, their pace slower but each stroke hitting Blaine in all the right places. It was exquisite torture, the slow, deep thrusts. Blaine could soon feel the edges of his orgasm but knew he would never get it like this. "Fuck- I need to come- please."

Kurt pulled out causing Blaine to groan at the loss. "Stand up," he said.

Blaine obeyed, sure he wouldn't regret it. Kurt stood behind him guided one leg up to the couch. Kurt entered him again, his arms snaking under Blaine's arms and gripping his shoulders from the front. He used the hold to guide Blaine as he pounded into him. Blaine could feel his control spiraling as Kurt fucked him, nipping at his shoulder. Every inch of him seemed to be tingling, every nerve on fire. Suddenly like a rubber band snapping he came in long spurts. He could feel his ass clamp down on Kurt's cock as he continued to fuck into him in an erratic rhythm, could feel his dick jerking as he shot his load and with Kurt's movement. With one last tug on Blaine's shoulders, pulling himself in as deep as he could, he felt as Kurt shuddered behind him and came.

From behind him, he heard Kurt chuckle, "I did not think that through."

Blaine felt Kurt pull out of him, and he mewled at the movement in his oversensitivity. His eyes fell on the come-covered floor in front of him.

"Yea, sorry about that, but can you honestly expect me to think when you are fucking my brains out?" he mumbled.

Kurt laughed again, a startling sound. "That's fair, I guess," he said breathlessly. "Let me get something to clean that up."

Blaine watched him walk to the kitchenette not knowing what else to do with himself. He could, for really the first time, take in the man who quite literally turned his life upside down with desire. His body was a masterpiece. Blaine was never one to be drawn to tattoos, but on Kurt they looked beautiful and elegant in a way he had never imagined before. Besides the tattoos on his arms, chest and behind his ear Blaine had seen before, he could see one on his shoulder and on each calf as well. He wanted time to study each of them, wanted to trace their lines and learn them in detail.

Kurt turned around and caught him staring, giving him a knowing smirk.

"Sorry," Blaine said looking away, wondering where his clothes were.

"If I didn't want you to look, I would have put clothes on," Kurt said dropping a towel on top of the come on the floor and approaching him. He used one finger to trace the lines of the muscle that ran up Blaine's side. "You don't have to get all bashful on me."

"I- I was just looking at your tats," Blaine stammered, fighting the lust that was rising within him again.

Kurt smirked at him again.

"Were you, now? Have you ever thought about getting one?"

"No," Blaine said a little too quickly. "I've never thought about it before. I guess I didn't realize how hot they were."

"That is not the reason to get a tattoo," Kurt said, oddly serious. "Like the nipple rings, these are for me. Yes, I got them because I like the way they look, but I didn't get them to please anyone else."

"I'm not saying you did." Blaine felt suddenly defensive, "it's just that- I've never thought about them. I mean I know people who have them, but I have not seen them on someone I was sleeping with. They are more beautiful than I gave them credit for... I'm not making any sense."

Kurt seemed to soften a bit, "No I get what you are saying. Tattoos are a part of a person in a way that other fashion choices aren't. They are more like your hair or eyes than a really neat belt. So, Blaine, what kind of tattoo are you going to get?"

"Me?" Blaine asked, shocked at the question.

Kurt ran a finger over his chest, just a light brush.

"Yes, you? I could do so much to you. So what would you get?"

Blaine swallowed hard, trying to calm the heat radiating through him again and feeling so exposed.

"I- I am not the tattoo kind of guy, I don't think..."

"Your body says different," Kurt whispered, lowering his hand to run his finger lightly up Blaine's rapidly filling cock. "You really are young aren't you, already ready for round two."

Blaine tried to slow his breathing, trying to reign in his arousal.

"That isn't the idea of a tattoo, that's you," he gulped.

"So, it's just my tattoos?" Kurt asked.

Blaine huffed a breathless laugh.

"No, it's your everything."

"So, why aren't you a tattoo guy?" Kurt said casually, still running his fingers over Blaine's skin, his eyes boring into Blaine's.

Blaine had to look away as he admitted, "I don't like needles. I get all panicky and sweaty, and I feel like I am going to pass out."

Kurt's eyes softened a bit.

"It's not as bad as a shot, and you are the perfect canvas."

"If I ever change my mind, I promise to come to you," Blaine said.

He didn't ever picture himself wanting a tattoo but would say anything at that point to not have to think about needles anymore and for Kurt to really touch him again.

"I'll hold you to that," Kurt laughed. "Now let's get you in my bed and give me time to catch up. I'm not as young as you are."

Kurt led them to his room and sprawled out on the bed. Blaine joined him, but while he was so incredibly turned on, he wasn't completely ruled by it. Instead, he took the time to trace his hand over the blackbird cradling Kurt's shoulder.

"Can you tell me about it?"

Kurt eyed him a moment, and Blaine wasn't sure he would answer.

"I've always loved the song," he said, shrugging his shoulder. "It... it got me through a lot of things... so what better way to remind myself."

"I've never seen anything like it," Blaine whispered. "It's beautiful. Did you...?" he trailed off.

Kurt smiled then replied, "I helped design it, but Elliott, the guy I own the shop with, did the actual work."

"Did he do all of them?" Blaine had to ask.

"No," Kurt huffed, "He only did this and the ones on my calves. When you are in the industry long enough you meet a lot of talented people, and you know who specializes in what."

Blaine's hand smoothed down Kurt's shoulder before tracing over the skyline, "And New York?"

Kurt stared at him again for a moment as if trying to figure out a puzzle.

"A guy at the shop I apprenticed at specialized in architectural designs."

Blaine took Kurt's earlobe in his mouth, toying the earring with his tongue. He kissed down his neck before placing a kiss on each of the seven colorful stars he found there.

"Your stars?" he whispered breathlessly.

"One year during pride I had Elliott draw them there." Kurt laughed, "I liked them so much I went out a week later and got them done by one of the guys I worked with."

"May I see the others?" Blaine asked.

Wordlessly, Kurt turned over, pillowing his cheek on his arms. Blaine's eyes first fell on a black and grey pair of dandelions over his left shoulder blade, one in full bloom, the other going to seed. Underneath them in loopy cursive were the words, 'Always look for beauty and wishes in the world. -Mom'.

"Why dandelions?" Blaine asked.

He could hear Kurt suck in a breath.

"They were my mom's favorite flower. She said they were the best because they are bright and beautiful and bring so much happiness to the world, but even when they are leaving the world, they still bring joy because they are wishes." He laughed, "I wondered when I was older if it was just her way of getting me to stop picking them, but no, my dad said she always loved them. She had a unique way of seeing the world."

Blaine felt like he was hitting a nerve. Kurt was no longer relaxed but tension now rested in his shoulders. He decided to move on. He took in the music wrapping its way around Kurt's left arm. His fingers played the notes he could see down Kurt's arm to where they ended near his wrist. It took two times before he could place the song with the pieces missing. He couldn't help the triumphant smile that sprang to his lips as he asked, "Why do you have 'The Show Must Go On' tattooed on your arm?"

Kurt's eyes sprang open, and he propped himself up looking intently at Blaine, who resisted the urge to recoil under the look he was giving him.

"How the hell did you know that?"

"Music is what I do. I've been doing it my whole life. I'm a sound engineer for a music studio. It's as much a part of me as your tattoos are of you," he said with a sheepish shrug. "You don't have to answer. I'm sorry if I offended you. It's a great song. I just... I guess I just wanted to get to know you better."

Kurt's shoulders relaxed as he sat up.

"I'm sorry. I guess I overreacted . It's not that I don't want to know you or for you to know me, but..." he hesitated.

"This isn't what this is about," Blaine finished for him.

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment.

"After my mom died, my dad remarried a woman whose son was in my grade at school. We couldn't have been more different. He was the star football player dating the head cheerleader. I was the gay kid who who was obsessed with musicals and spent his spare time drawing." He opened his eyes and looked intently at Blaine. "Music was what we could bond over, classic rock, especially. Even when we couldn't have a real conversation yet, we could sing along to my dad's old vinyls, and we didn't seem so different."

Blaine could understand this. It was what he loved most about music; it is a universal language. Before he could say anything, though, Kurt began talking again.

"Finn, my brother, died a couple of years after I moved to New York. This was my tribute to him. The song seemed appropriate."

"Wow," Blaine sighed. "I'm sorry, I guess I shouldn't have pried. It's just, you kind of fascinate me."

Kurt laughed, a genuine sound.

"I'm just a guy." He laid back down on his stomach. "Okay, let's get this over with; go on, I know you want to ask about them."

Blaine felt relieved that Kurt was encouraging him now. He scooted down the bed until he was level with Kurt's calves. On his left leg was a forest with tall, looming trees in vibrant purples and greens with a red-orange path running through it. His right leg was a colorful abstract of Times Square. The rich colors were a surprising contrast to the blacks and greys that painted the rest of Kurt's skin. Blaine felt breathless at their beauty.

"They're beautiful."

He looked up to see Kurt smile softly.

"They are based on two of the pieces that got me into art school. He did a great job recreating them."

"You drew these?" Blaine asked.

"No," Kurt laughed, "I painted them, god, so long ago."

"Do you still have the paintings?" Blaine asked, wanting to see them, to compare them to their inky counterparts.

"I'm sure my dad has them somewhere," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "Now if you are done analyzing my tattoos, I thought we were on our way to round two."

Blaine wouldn't have turned that down for the world, he climbed up the bed seeking Kurt's smirking lips.