Happy Saturday, darlings! Hope you had a wonderful week.

Thanks for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter. I'm very excited to share this one, and even more to read your thoughts once you read it.

Thanks to Christine, who helped with typos and nasty grammar mistakes with the rest of the story. And she rocks.

I own nothing! Enjoy!

It was a lovely night to be outside. Even though there was a slight breeze, they weren't cold, surrounded by so many people, by such bright lights. After quickly checking there wasn't anyone around they knew, Kurt and Blaine climbed up the stairs until they found a good spot on the bleachers, where it was a little emptier. They could see Sam down there at the field, giving last minute instructions to their team. Max began waving at him, even though it was obvious he wasn't looking at them.

"So we're the purple ones, right?" Kurt asked, leaning closer to Blaine.

Blaine chuckled. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you knew nothing about sports." He gestured between him and Max. "I thought you had figured that out from our outfits."

Both Blaine and Max were wearing purple: Blaine had a purple button down with a black bowtie, and Max a purple hoodie with a golden lion on the front. Kurt had thought they looked adorable in matching outfits, but hadn't exactly figured out it was related to the game.

"Mm, sorry, I was too busy swooning over how incredibly cute you two are to put two and two together," Kurt replied teasingly, and nudged their shoulders together. Max was sitting on Blaine's lap, glancing around with increasing interest. "I wish you'd told me, though. I'm sticking out like a sore thumb."

Kurt looked down at his red shirt, which was very stylish, of course, but also seemed to be the color of the opposing team.

"You look beautiful," Blaine assured him with a sweet smile, and then turned his eyes back towards Sam. "He, however, looks stressed as hell."

Kurt hummed in consideration, trying not to show on his face just how much it meant that Blaine had told him he looked beautiful. "He'll be fine. I'm sure the team will do alright. And if they don't… well, it's just football…"

A man who was currently walking down the stairs glared at him like he had said something completely offensive, and Kurt recoiled closer to Blaine's side.

Blaine bit his lip not to laugh. "Yeah, you probably shouldn't say that here…"

"Duly noted," Kurt murmured, and immediately got distracted when Blaine, seemingly without even thinking about it, reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers together, holding it so casually it felt like they had been doing that for years. Kurt's heart raced with his touch. "Do you always come to games to support Sam?"

"Whenever I can, yeah," Blaine answered. "Plus, I've always loved sports. Football, most of all. You really never came to a game since you started college?"

"Nope," Kurt said, letting his gaze run over the field and the bleachers, taking in everyone's excitement. "Finn was the quarterback when we were in high school. I went to all of his games, even if sometimes I brought a magazine along to keep myself entertained. My Dad tried to explain all of the rules, but I wasn't interested enough to keep track of everything. After Finn died, I just didn't have an excuse to show any interest in sports at all."

Blaine's fingers tightened around his, and there was sadness in his hazel eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that. Do you want to go home? If I'd known, I wouldn't have made you come here…"

Kurt gave him a little smile. "It's fine. They're good memories. And I'm happy to be here with you."

Blaine dropped a quick, sweet kiss on the curve of Kurt's shoulder just as the crowd cheered and the game began. In a low voice, Blaine tried to explain what was happening, except when he was practically jumping off his seat to scream. Kurt honestly didn't care what a particular play was about, but he did enjoy seeing Blaine react to the game, especially since Max seemed to find it so funny as well.

"Your Uncle Blaine's a little silly, isn't he?" He muttered to Max, who had crawled onto his lap, when Blaine stood once again to yell in frustration.

Max glanced up at him, beaming. "Baine. Urt."

For the millionth time, Kurt's heart melted, and he dropped a kiss on the top of Max's head.

After the other team scored once again, and they saw Sam throw his clipboard to the ground in despair, Blaine stood up once more, and let out a grunt. "I can't keep watching. I'm gonna go get us something to drink."

Kurt tried to hide how amused he was. He couldn't believe how seriously people took something as trivial as a football game. "Sure. Do you want me to come with you?"

"Don't worry. Just stay here with Max and I'll be right back," Blaine said, and leaned in for a quick kiss.

Kurt was glad Blaine left right then, because in a matter of two minutes, the other team scored again. It looked like NYU wouldn't be able to reach them, now, and the crowd was getting more and more upset.

Blaine came back with two big sodas, popcorn and hot dogs. Kurt raised his eyebrows at him, who shrugged and said: "I'm a stress-eater."

The good thing about NYU's current hopeless situation was that Blaine didn't seem interested in the game anymore. He sat a little sideways, so he could face Kurt, and placed the food on the empty seat next to him. Kurt took a bite of his hot dog and held back a moan. He would never admit to anyone just how heavenly it tasted.

"So, Kurt Hummel," Blaine began, and grabbed a napkin. He used it to gently wipe a bit of mustard from Kurt's lower lip, who blushed in embarrassment. "Tell me something I don't know about you."

That took Kurt a little by surprise. He finished chewing the bite of hot dog as he tried to come up with something to say. "Okay…" He said, thoughtfully. "When I first came to New York, I actually wanted to become a huge Broadway star."

Blaine's eyes widened a bit. "Well, now I really need to hear you sing."

Kurt laughed lightly. "Maybe some other time."

"What made you change your mind?" Blaine asked, grabbing his soda.

"I think I realized there is a difference between what you can do and what you should do," Kurt said, leaning back on his seat to get more comfortable. "I love Broadway, and I love musicals, and I know I'm a good performer. But… when it came to choosing a path for my future, I had to stop and look at my options and wonder if I was choosing musical theatre for the right reasons."

"And you chose fashion," Blaine said, as the crowd around them screamed again, but they didn't pay any attention.

"Yeah." Kurt put down his hot dog and accepted a soda from Blaine. "Sometimes I look at Rachel and I know I made the right decision. I love Broadway and I could watch musicals every single day, but I think getting on a stage was not the right thing for me, in the end. But when I think about designing and making clothes for the rest of my life, of having my own label, of working for a fashion magazine… I can picture it. That's what I want, you know. My true passion."

"I can tell," Blaine said, with a soft smile on his face. "Your eyes sparkle when you talk about it."

Kurt bit his lip. "I think you're flirting with me, Mr. Anderson."

Blaine snorted. "Of course I am," he said rolling his eyes.

When everyone around them started roaring, they looked away from each other for a moment. It was half-time, and the crowd was showing their discontent at the current scores. It looked like NYU wouldn't be recovering anytime soon.

"Okay, it's your turn," Kurt said, turning back to Blaine. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Alright, let me think…" Blaine mumbled, as he took his last bite of hot dog.

But before he could think of something, Kurt's phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He checked the caller ID, and when he saw it was his father calling, he looked at Blaine apologetically: "It's Dad. I have to take this."

"Sure, go ahead," Blaine said immediately, and grabbed Max so Kurt could stand up.

He moved away, trying to get some distance between him and the loud crowd, as he accepted the call. "Hey Dad."

"Hi, kiddo. Is this a bad time? Where are you? It's noisy," Burt said on the other end.

"Oh, I'm at a football game at school," Kurt replied. "How are you?"

Burt sounded surprised. "You're at a football game?"

Kurt sighed. "Yes, Dad. It's not like it's the first time!"

"I know, but it's been years, Kurt," Burt retorted. "And you never enjoyed them, back then."

"Well, Blaine's friend is the coach, and he needed some moral support, so Blaine asked me to come, and I did," Kurt said, realizing he was talking a little more quickly than usual.

"Oh, I see," Burt said teasingly. "Blaine invited you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked, frowning. When his father remained silent, Kurt gave up. "Okay. Fine. You win."

"I win?" Burt repeated, expectantly.

"Look, I… I have no idea what's going on. We haven't talked about this that much, we are just… seeing where things go, I guess? But I'm happy, Dad. I'm so happy." Kurt looked over his shoulder to where Blaine was sitting with Max, and his heart filled with so much love and so much joy he had no idea what to do. "He's wonderful, and I..."

"Kurt," Burt interrupted, and his voice was warm. "I'm happy for you, kiddo."

"This is completely insane," Kurt said, laughing even though he kind of felt like crying. "He's my boss, and my professor, and this is still the most comfortable, natural and beautiful thing I have ever felt."

"I'm not saying the circumstances aren't a bit odd," Burt said honestly. "What I'm saying is that it doesn't matter, if it's so special, and if he makes you feel so happy."

There was something though every time Blaine looked into his eyes, whenever he touched him, or when he smiled at him. He knew it was crazy to say it out loud so soon, when nothing was yet certain, but Kurt knew that his father wouldn't judge him. He knew he would understand.

"I think he's…" Kurt swallowed, the emotion drowning him. "I think he's the one, Dad."

He could hear his father smiling through the phone.

"Then don't let him go, kiddo."

Sam was sitting by himself on the bench long after the game was over, long after the crowd had walked out of the stadium complaining about the result. He looked tired and unhappy, and Blaine felt bad for his friend. For some people, like Kurt, this was just a sport. For Sam, it was a tragedy.

"Hey," Blaine said, to get his attention.

Sam looked up. His eyes went from Blaine to Kurt, who was holding a sleepy Max in his arms. "Hi guys. Thanks for coming to this fiasco."

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad," Blaine lied. "It's just one game. There's still time until the championship is over."

"I know, but we haven't had a game this bad in years," Sam said, frustration clear in his voice. "It'll be difficult to raise the morale in the team after this."

"Well, if anyone can do it, it's you," Blaine said, patting his friend on the back comfortingly. "Hey, Kurt and I were wondering if you'd like to get a drink with us, or something?"

Sam once again glanced between them, as if trying to figure something out. Finally, he said: "So it's happening, huh? I'm happy for you guys, but please don't screw this up."

Kurt shifted on his feet uncomfortably, not knowing how to reply to that.

"Not our intention, I promise," Blaine said softly. "What do you say about that drink? It's on me, come on."

"Thanks, but can I get a raincheck?" Sam muttered, looking at his friend apologetically. "Mercedes just texted me that she's done with work, so she'll meet me at my place."

"She'll offer a much better comfort than we possibly can, I'm sure," Blaine teased, and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Okay. Let me know if you need anything. I'll see you on Monday."

"Thanks, man. It was nice seeing you again, Kurt," Sam said with a little smile.

"You too," Kurt waved awkwardly. "I'll see you on Wednesday."

Even though it was a nice night for a walk, they took a cab back to Blaine's apartment because they hadn't brought the stroller and Max was getting too heavy. They were silent most of the cab ride home, and Kurt only asked the question that had been in his mind when they were in the elevator in Blaine's building.

"Sam doesn't like me all that much, does he?"

Blaine frowned as he fished his keys out of his bag. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because I can tell?" Kurt followed him out of the elevator and down the corridor to Blaine's front door. They were speaking in a low voice as not to wake up Max. "He's always been nice, but in that way that makes it obvious he's putting distance between us. At first I thought it was because he's a professor and I'm a student, but I have the feeling it's something else."

The apartment was dark when they walked inside, so Blaine reached for the light switch, and then gestured for Kurt to go with him into Max's bedroom. "I think he likes you just fine. It's not that."

Kurt placed Max carefully into his crib to make sure he wouldn't wake up. "Then what is it?"

Blaine leaned into the crib to remove Max's shoes. It would have been better to put him into his pajamas, but Blaine didn't want to risk waking him. "Well, you heard what he said. He doesn't want us to screw up. He's just scared things will backfire and one of us will get hurt."

Kurt watched attentively. "He thinks you're the one who's going to get hurt," he guessed.

"Yup," Blaine confirmed. "He doesn't want me to get my heart broken. And he's also worried I'll get fired."

Once Max was settled, Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and they walked out of the room. Kurt didn't say anything for a moment, as Blaine's last words seemed to echo in his head over and over again.

"Would you like some coffee?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded absently and went with him into the kitchen. Blaine busied himself with the coffee, and Kurt reached for the mugs on the cupboard, before leaning against the counter. "Are you worried?"

"Mm?" Blaine hummed absently, as he grabbed the creamer from the fridge.

"About those things. About getting fired," Kurt said.

Blaine turned to him, placed his arms on either side of Kurt to trap him against the counter, and looked right into his eyes. "I'm not," he said earnestly.

Kurt closed his eyes as Blaine's lips pressed against his, and he felt a little better.

They went into the living room when their coffee was ready, and sat together on the couch, keeping close. It was like they couldn't get enough of each other, like they constantly needed to be touching to make up for lost time. It was simple things: Blaine brushing a strand of hair off Kurt's face, Kurt trailing his fingertips down Blaine's arm, Blaine's hand on Kurt's leg as support when he leaned towards the coffee table, Kurt's forehead on Blaine's shoulder as he laughed.

That's how they were when they suddenly fell silent. Kurt's laughter died very, very slowly, and he realized he could smell Blaine and only Blaine like this, so close. Blaine's arms were suddenly around him, rubbing his back and pulling him a little closer, as if he had also noticed the abrupt shift in the air, the way the tension crackled between them, filled with electricity.

Kurt placed a hand on Blaine's chest, and could feel just how fast his heart was beating. "You never got to tell me something I don't know about you."

Blaine put his own hand on top of Kurt's, tangling their fingers together. "You really want to know?"

"Yes," Kurt breathed out.

Blaine looked at him, hazel eyes fixed on his own bluegreygreen ones. "I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

It seemed to take a couple of seconds for Kurt to process those words. Then his breath stuttered on the way out, shaky and unsteady, and his hand tightened in Blaine's. There was such sweet disbelief in his gaze, that it broke Blaine's heart a little. He couldn't be the first man to have his entire world brightened, shaken, changed by Kurt Hummel.

There wasn't a good enough verbal response. Kurt didn't think there were words that could explain exactly how he felt right now. No matter what he said, he wouldn't be able to tell Blaine how his heart seemed to be ready to leap out of his chest and right into his hands. It was Blaine's now. And he didn't want it back.

So Kurt did the next best thing: he surged forward, caught Blaine's face between his hands and kissed him.

They hadn't experienced a kiss like this before. The only one that had come close had been the first one, back in Ohio, tinged with uncertainty, fear and sadness. But this one was the opposite, even if it shared passion: there was no fear, no sadness. It definitely had no uncertainty. This time, they both knew just how much they wanted it.

Blaine parted his lips immediately, welcoming Kurt's tongue into his mouth. It was the most playful little touch, barely there and soon gone, but Blaine tried to chase it, encouraged it, craved it. Kurt shyly pushed for a little more, gave him what he asked for, let himself get drowned in the sweet scent of Blaine all around him.

The apartment was filled only with the sound of their increasingly panting breaths. Kurt threw his arms around Blaine's shoulders to bring him even closer, and Blaine wrapped his around Kurt's waist, his fingers digging into his sides, as if he couldn't get enough, as if even an inch of distance was too much to bear.

Kurt's lungs felt tight with the lack of air, but the idea of not feeling Blaine's lips on his for even a second was almost unbearable right then. Blaine seemed to be having similar thoughts, because he only turned enough on the couch so they could properly face each other, and pulled Kurt closer, so their chests were pressed together.

Kurt had never experienced this kind of need before. He had never felt that kissing was much more important than breathing. But he had never known someone like Blaine, who made his heart thump dangerously against his ribcage, who made him dizzy by just looking into his eyes.

Slowly, almost not aware of it, they began sliding down on the couch, until Kurt was on top of Blaine. Blaine's hands settled on the small of Kurt's back, pushing with eager fingers, and Kurt framed Blaine's face with his forearms, hands playing with the increasingly loose curls, as he finally realized that there was so much more he wanted to kiss, besides Blaine's perfectly plump lips.

His mouth started to trail a path alongside Blaine's jaw line. His lips were raw from all the kissing, and the growing stubble on Blaine's face scratched them, sending a shiver down his spine. Blaine let out a little sound of pleasure, and tilted his head back towards the armrest, revealing his neck, which Kurt had no problem paying attention to. He began kissing it, and found a perfect spot right where it met his breastbone, where Blaine didn't only smell so overwhelmingly good, but he also reacted so beautifully, moaning in a way that pulled at Kurt's body like they were magnets.

There was not an inch of space between them now. They were glued together head to toe, and their hips collided heavily together with the weight of their arousal.

Blaine hissed so loudly he made Kurt stop kissing him.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, feeling like his brain was filled with fog.

Blaine blinked up at the ceiling, still panting harshly. "I think… I… we might need to stop now."

Kurt studied his eyes. They had never looked so golden before. "Are you okay?"

"I'm too okay, Kurt," Blaine replied, lifting his eyebrow in an ironic kind of way. Then he licked his lips, and Kurt couldn't look away. "I don't want us to do something you could regret later…"

Kurt would have felt very touched for Blaine's concern about his feelings, if he hadn't felt so damn aroused. "But you don't want to stop?"

"God, no," Blaine practically moaned. "But I…"

His words were cut off by a real, long moan when Kurt thrust against him. It was almost too much, with the tightness of their jeans and the heat that surrounded them, suffocating them.

"I don't want to stop either," Kurt whispered.

The electricity that had been crackling between them seemed to reach a breaking point. Suddenly everything was brighter: the light of the lamp on the small table next to the couch, the lights of New York City that came through the window, their eyes as they stared at each other, and the pleasure, as it coursed through them, unstoppable.

Without looking away, they began to move. Blaine met every shift of Kurt's hips with his own, feeling the hardness of Kurt's erection against his. He felt like a teenager again, so embarrassingly close to the edge already.

They weren't kissing anymore. For some reason, it was much more important to keep their eyes on each other, as if they were testing the boundaries, looking for a sign. Their breathing began ragged, difficult, and Blaine was mesmerized by the way Kurt looked right now, almost as if the pleasure was painful, like it was so intense he could hardly bear it.

Blaine realized there were only two ways this could end: they could keep dry humping on the couch like kids trying not to get caught by their parents after school, or Blaine could stop being scared.

He cupped Kurt's cheek in his hand. His skin was so hot it nearly burned him. "Hey."

"What?" Kurt mumbled, as his pace became erratic. He was close too.

Blaine used his other hand to still Kurt's hips, though he kept them pressed against his. He still didn't want even an inch of air getting between them. "Are you sure you don't want to stop?"

Kurt swallowed and licked his lips. There was certainty in his blue eyes. "I don't ever want to stop."

Blaine felt himself trying to hold back a smile. His thumb brushed Kurt's mouth. His lips were so pink, they seemed almost raw. Blaine took a deep breath, and said: "Then why don't we… I… do you want to go to my bedroom?"

Kurt could have sworn his heartbeat was so amazingly loud that it echoed through the apartment. It didn't take him longer than that to reply. He knew what he wanted. "Yes."

They didn't rush or immediately tear their clothes apart as they went to the bedroom. The way they moved was nearly solemn, like they couldn't stain what was about to happen in any way. But they didn't untangle, because feeling the other close was indescribably important. So they wrapped each other in their arms, and Kurt closed his eyes and kissed Blaine again, letting himself be guided blindly.

He had never been in Blaine's room before. The closest he had been was the doorway, where he had stood to tell Blaine something, or to look inside to check Max wasn't in there. For a long time, it had felt like a visual boundary, something Kurt wasn't allowed to cross. Other men could cross it, like Daniel had, but Kurt didn't mean that to Blaine, even if Kurt was falling more and more in love with him.

But now… now Blaine was pulling him in, gently so, and Kurt could almost hear the boundary shatter. It fell apart like the Berlin Wall, a division that was never meant to be there in the first place. Because somehow, and Kurt still couldn't believe he was so lucky, they belonged together.

They didn't bother turning a light on. It was enough with the glow of the city out the window, and the light from the hallway. Kurt could see and feel Blaine's fingers shaking as he began to unbutton Kurt's shirt, torturously slow, and Kurt wasn't sure if it was because he was giving him time to step back if he changed his mind, or if he wanted to savor every little button and every bit of skin he revealed.

When Blaine's lips began tracing his chest as he worked on his shirt, Kurt realized, with heated pleasure, that it was the latter.

Once his shirt was on the floor, Blaine's hands were everywhere. He touched his skin so reverently that it made Kurt shake. But as much as he loved how it felt, he also wanted to be able to touch Blaine the same way, so he reached for the buttons on his shirt. Blaine's chest was compact but muscled, and so delightful that Kurt didn't know where to start. He kissed his collarbone eagerly, as his hands moved down Blaine's now naked chest, thumbs catching at his nipples and making Blaine let out a sound that was nearly sinful.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's wrist to stop him, and when Kurt looked at him, he breathed out: "What do you want?"

Kurt swallowed heavily again, the words and the want almost choking him. "You," Kurt said simply, and by the fire in Blaine's golden eyes, it looked like he understood exactly what he meant. He was opening his mouth to speak, but Kurt covered it with his, and murmured, ardently: "Don't ask me if I'm sure. I've never wanted anything like I want to feel you."

Blaine's hold tightened for a moment, before it went loose. His lips brushed Kurt's when he spoke: "Get on the bed."

Kurt didn't need to hear him twice. Though stepping away from Blaine's body was the last thing he wanted, he did as he was told, and walked to the bed. He heard, more than saw, the zipper of Blaine's pants going down, as he laid on top of the covers. He reached for his own, but Blaine was already there, only in his underwear.

"Please," he whispered. "Let me."

And Kurt wouldn't have even thought of saying no.

Blaine straddled him, and despite the lack of light in the room, Kurt could still see the outline of Blaine's cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. His mouth watered. Too gently, Blaine undid the zipper and began pulling Kurt's pants down, along with his underwear. Kurt lifted himself on his elbows to help, and he watched Blaine watch him, with his mouth suddenly dry and his heart beating almost painfully fast.

"My nightstand," Blaine murmured. "Top drawer."

Kurt allowed himself to smirk. "Really? Such a cliché," he teased, but then his smirk was gone, as his lips parted so a moan could escape.

Blaine's fingers were around him, tight and perfect, stroking him maddeningly slow. He was the one smirking now. "You were saying?"

"Nothing," Kurt replied, stuttering. "Keep going."

"Top drawer, Kurt," Blaine reminded him, and then leaned down and began kissing down his chest.

Kurt knew what was coming, but he still groaned and bucked his hips up when Blaine's lips were on his cock, tracing down the length and looking like he wasn't in a hurry. His thumbs were massaging the inside of Kurt's thighs, gently working his legs open. Kurt dropped the lube and the condom on the bed next to him, and his hands immediately found their way to Blaine's head, where his fingers tangled in the curls.

Kurt's spine arched when Blaine's lube-coated finger pushed carefully at his entrance, while his mouth was still moving distractingly over his cock. He gasped and moaned as he was stretched, tilting closer to the edge with every tease of Blaine's tongue over his sensitive skin. He wanted more, but at the same time he didn't want Blaine to stop this. Everything felt so good that Kurt was sure he could reach his climax just with Blaine's feathery lips and pushing fingers.

But then the urgency began to grow inside of him, wild and hungry like an animal, and he started tugging at Blaine's hair to make him stop, mumbling nonstop: "I'm ready, I'm ready."

Blaine didn't need hear it again. He removed his fingers and reached for the condom. Kurt hooked his thumbs on Blaine's underwear, unable to stop noticing the wet spot on front where his cock was straining for release, and slid it down over Blaine' beautifully toned thighs. Once Blaine took it off entirely and threw it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed, and rolled the condom on, Kurt placed his hands on the back of Blaine's shoulders and pulled him closer, not wanting any distance between them.

Blaine grabbed the back of Kurt's knees and made him wrap his legs around his waist, as he positioned himself at the entrance. Kurt couldn't breathe again, the anticipation heavy and sweet in him.

As soon as Blaine was inside of him, something seemed to shift in the air between them. Blaine pushed all the way in, and waited, letting his forehead rest on Kurt's and panting slightly. After a few seconds of delicious yet torturous stillness, Blaine began to move his hips back and forth, and Kurt chased after him, always wanting more. They looked into each other's eyes, and there was something new there, hidden behind the pleasure and the breathless moans.

Kurt thought back to every time he had had sex before. Sometimes it had been bad, but there had been plenty of good experiences. Sometimes it had been with someone who truly mattered to him, someone who made him laugh even at his most vulnerable. Sometimes it had been sweaty and hectic, or long and relaxed. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't remember it ever feeling like this.

When people talked to him about sex, Kurt had never really understood what they meant when they said it had been so intense that they had never experienced something so unique before. He could understand connection, because sex was all about connection, but he had never known it could be this way.

Maybe it was because he had never loved anyone the way he loved Blaine, but nothing had ever felt this right, this bright, this overwhelmingly meaningful. It wasn't about getting off, not this time.

This – this sensation, this feeling – was what sex had been truly invented for.

Blaine leaned in and kissed him. His body was relentless, but so controlled, flowing just like the waves of pleasure travelling through each of them. Everything about him was perfect, from his skin to the way he fit right into Kurt like they were puzzle pieces.

The heat began to build, and Blaine's hips became erratic, faster, harder, reaching so deep inside of Kurt that soon he was throwing his head back on the pillow and panting to the ceiling. Blaine sneaked a hand between their sweaty bodies and wrapped his fingers around Kurt's cock, stroking it slowly but firmly, still looking into his eyes to read every sign of lust that appeared in them.

Kurt bit his lip, whining slightly, not knowing if he wanted to push into Blaine's hand or onto his cock. Everything was so much, so perfect, so intense, intense, intense…

Just as Blaine changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting the sweetest of spots inside Kurt's body, Kurt came with a little cry, letting his legs fall from Blaine's waist, and planting his feet on the mattress, unconsciously lifting his hips as if he wanted to bring Blaine even deeper. As come painted his chest, Blaine moaned and let the pulses of Kurt's orgasm drive him to his own.

Without pulling out, Blaine dropped down on top of Kurt, nearly crushing him with his weight, but still Kurt welcomed it gladly. He wrapped his arms, which felt loose and heavy, around Blaine's shoulders, and searched for his mouth, kissing him long and slow, their tongues dancing together hot and wet.

Blaine could feel Kurt's heart beating out of control against his own chest. He could feel the stickiness of the come and the lube between their bodies. He sighed in contentment against Kurt's lips and cupped his face with his hand. The spark of Kurt's blue eyes was visible even in the near darkness.

"Are you alright?" He asked, because he truly didn't want to crush Kurt to death after such mind-blowing sex.

Kurt hummed, and his hands travelled down Blaine's back and over his ass, where he grabbed and pulled, trying to keep him deep inside. Blaine closed his eyes and groaned.

"Yeah," Kurt replied. His lips traced Blaine's jaw line. "But I don't think I can move."

"Then don't," Blaine muttered quietly. "You don't ever have to move again."

Kurt let out a hoarse little chuckle that was probably the sexiest sound Blaine had ever heard, and Kurt had made many incredible sounds in the past hour. "I will have to leave eventually, you know."

"Not right now," Blaine said, and tilted his head to once again press their foreheads together. "Stay the night."

Kurt's thumb caressed the dip of his spine, right above the curve of his ass. "Are you sure?"

Blaine kissed him, feeling heady and drunk with everything they had just shared. He whispered: "Stay forever."

They both knew exactly what that meant, without the need to say another word.

So. What did you think? :D

See you next week!

Love,

L.-