Okay, so first off, I apologize again for taking FOREVER to update this story... I've been working on this for over a month but I've been insanely busy (real life, what a pain) and only just got around to finishing it. So I'm very sorry about that, but I hope this chapter at least sort of makes up for that :). Secondly, I hope everyone had a very happy Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for all of my lovely readers - and for the reviews you leave me, which actually make my day. Hope you enjoy this!

Kurt reached through the darkness and curled his hands in the soft fabric of Blaine's worn t-shirt, tugging him forward for a kiss.

T-Shirt

When Wes had offered to host the annual Warblers' weekend retreat (to which Kurt and Blaine had been invited even though they were no longer Warblers) at his parents' cabin in the woods of Pennsylvania, Blaine had not expected things to go as they did. For example, he had not expected the "cabin" to have a hot tub, a wrap-around porch, and enough bedrooms to allow he and Kurt to have one all to themselves. He had also not expected his plans for making very, very good use of that room to be ruined by Wes and David, who barged through the door just as things were heating up and insisted on having best friend bonding time with Blaine. After all, they explained, they never got to see him now that he had ditched them in favor of wearing bow ties and prancing around McKinley with Kurt.

"It's only fair," Wes said, grinning in a way that suggested he was taking great pleasure in cockblocking Blaine. "Kurt gets you all the time."

And Kurt, though slightly perturbed that he wouldn't get to spend the night with Blaine, had conceded that Wes and David were more than overdue for a little quality time with their friend. So Kurt had moved down the hall to Wes's room and Wes and David had hopped into bed with Blaine, who was holding a pillow over his lap and looking somewhat flustered.

Several hours later, Wes and David had fallen asleep sprawled across Blaine's bed. Wes was snoring, David had flung his arm across Blaine's face, and Blaine, unsurprisingly, was very much awake. He glanced at the clock, saw that it was only just midnight, and wondered if there was any chance that Kurt was still up. Pushing David's arm aside, he slid out of bed and crept out of the room to go check. He was halfway down the dark hallway when he crashed into something that felt very much like a person.

"Mmph!"

"Blaine?"

"Kurt?"

"Hi."

"I was just coming to see if you were awake," Blaine whispered.

"Me too," Kurt giggled. He reached through the darkness and curled his hands in the soft fabric of Blaine's worn t-shirt, tugging him forward for a kiss. "Are Wes and David still in your room?" he murmured against Blaine's lips.

"Yeah," Blaine breathed, trailing his fingers up Kurt's arm.

"Come on," Kurt said, grabbing Blaine's hand and pulling him down the hallway in the direction of Wes's bedroom.

The room, with moonlight spilling through the windows, was much brighter than the hallway. Kurt closed the door behind them and they snuggled into Wes's bed together.

"So, did you guys have fun bonding?" Kurt asked, taking Blaine's hand in his and fiddling with his fingers.

"Yeah, it was nice," Blaine said, watching Kurt play with his hand. "I wanted to strangle them when they walked in, but they're right. We hardly ever get to see each other anymore."

"Do you ever wish you could go back?" Kurt asked in a tone that fell just sort of sounding convincingly nonchalant.

Blaine replied without hesitation. "Then I wouldn't get to see you every day."

Kurt smiled, feeling a little relieved. "But don't you miss them?"

"Of course I do. But missing you was worse."

Kurt smiled again and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Blaine's hand. "So, what did you guys talk about? Manly things? Cars, sex, boobs?"

Blaine snorted. "Well, David's parents just took his car away, Wes's girlfriend won't have sex with him, and if you hadn't noticed, I'm not a huge fan of boobs, so no, not quite."

Kurt laughed. "Oh, really?" he said with a smirk. "What are you a huge fan of, then?"

"You," Blaine said simply.

Blaine was good at big romantic gestures (hello, the GAP attack), but it was at moments like this, when he said something like that, so simple and yet so sincere, that Kurt loved him the most. He leaned in, capturing Blaine's lips with his own and slowly prising them apart. Blaine kissed back eagerly and maybe a bit hungrily, asking for more, begging even, but not pushing - never, never pushing. Kurt's fingers curled into Blaine's t-shirt again, tugging slightly, and Blaine hummed into his mouth, wriggling closer. He lifted a hand to stroke Kurt's face, his thumb brushing over Kurt's cheek as his middle finger traced Kurt's jaw line. The kiss was soft and sweet and just a little heated, mouths pressing a bit more urgently and hands touching a bit more desperately until suddenly Kurt's leg had slipped between Blaine's thighs and oh.

A whimper, a hitched breath, and then Blaine was pulling away reluctantly, pushing lightly against Kurt's chest.

"Wait," he said, a little breathlessly. "We can't. Not in Wes's bed..."

He looked at Kurt imploringly, because if Kurt kept pushing this, Blaine wouldn't be able to stop himself, and they both knew it.

Kurt pouted.

"Come on," Blaine persisted. "You know it's not that I don't want to." A shy, playful grin. "Can we, uh, do something else maybe?" His tone hopeful now. "We could play a game?" A slightly anxious look, as if he wasn't sure Kurt was buying this.

Kurt eyed him skeptically, considering.

"Alright, fine," he agreed finally. "I have an idea for a game."

"Awesome," Blaine said, hoping that the slightly devious glint in Kurt's eye was simply a reflection of the moonlight.

"Take off your shirt and lie on your stomach," Kurt instructed.

Ah. So, probably not the moonlight.

Blaine raised an eyebrow.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's innocent, I swear," he huffed. "I'm not going take advantage of you. Unless you want me to, of course," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Blaine groaned and buried his face in Wes's pillow.

"Come on, shirt off," Kurt said, tugging at the hem of Blaine's t-shirt. Blaine slipped out of the soft material and rolled on to his stomach, resting his chin on his folded arms. Kurt slid out from beneath the covers and climbed on top of him, a knee on either side of his torso, resting his weight maybe-sort-of-purposefully on Blaine's ass. Blaine made an indeciperable noise low in his throat but resisted saying anything, instead waiting to hear what this mysterious game was that involved Kurt straddling him while he was shirtless.

"Okay, I'm going to write a word on your back with my finger, and then you have to guess what it is," Kurt said.

"Okay."

Blaine shivered a little as the soft tips of Kurt's fingers trailed over his back, then grinned when he realized what Kurt was writing.

"Warbler."

"Mm," Kurt hummed, admiring the oh-so-taut-yum muscles of Blaine's back as he tried to think of another word.

"Kurt," Blaine guessed before Kurt had even gotten to the "r." He really loved the way he could hear Blaine smiling around his name.

The game went on, incorporating words like Disney ("Can we watch The Little Mermaid soon?"), dork ("Hey!"), and McQueen ("Naturally"). Blaine sighed happily under Kurt's touch and Kurt relished the way Blaine's muscles flexed and quivered beneath his fingers.

"Candles," Blaine said quietly when Kurt had finished tracing the word. He turned his head to the side, smiling when Kurt pressed a kiss to his temple. "I like that one."

"Me too," Kurt replied. His fingers fell to Blaine's back again, spelling out the three words he was starting to think would only ever be meant for Blaine.

"I love you too," Blaine whispered.

And, well, that was always nice to hear, so Kurt leaned forward and kissed the sensitive patch of skin behind Blaine's left ear. Blaine moaned a little, quietly enough to hope Kurt hadn't heard but loudly enough to know that he probably had. He felt Kurt's lips quirk into a self-satisfied smirk behind his ear because yeah, of course he'd heard that, and clearly he was going to use it to his advantage, because now he was kissing a zig-zag pattern across Blaine's back and along his spine. He slid down Blaine's body, settling somewhere around his calves as his fingers combed up and down Blaine's sides.

His hands ventured lower, tracing the dimples in Blaine's back before curving over the swell of his ass. Blaine shifted slightly, trying to ignore the response that was now stirring in his boxers, because his ass had always been his greatest weakness and Kurt fucking knew it. His half-hearted sound of protest dissolved into a groan as Kurt's fingers dipped below the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down a few inches to expose the top of his ass. He ducked his head and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to one cheek, his teeth grazing lightly over the sensitive flesh. Blaine whimpered and rocked his hips forward into the mattress, hissing at the friction it created against his now fully hard cock.

"Kurt," Blaine pleaded, although even he wasn't sure whether he was asking Kurt to stop or keep going.

Suddenly, Kurt's lips were gone from his ass (Blaine tried and failed to disguise a whine of disappointment) and his breath was hot against Blaine's ear once more.

"Tell me you want me to stop," he breathed, his tongue lapping at that same spot behind Blaine's ear.

Blaine knew he should tell him to stop. He should really, really, tell him to -

"Fuck," he gasped instead, because Kurt had just run his fingers down the crease in Blaine's ass.

"Thought so," Kurt murmured, pausing to suck gently on the back of Blaine's neck before sliding back down his body. He hooked his fingers in Blaine's waistband and pulled, dragging his boxers down, down, over those gloriously toned legs that always seemed to strain just perfectly against the material of his pants.

With the boxers deposited on the floor, Kurt positioned himself between Blaine's legs and leaned forward, nipping at the curve where Blaine's ass met his thigh. Satisfied with the shudder that ran through his boyfriend's body at the mere proximity of Kurt's tongue to his hole (Blaine was such a whore when it came to his ass), Kurt's mouth traveled upward, lips skimming over the smooth skin of a perfectly sculpted cheek (okay, so maybe Kurt was kind of a whore when it came to Blaine's ass too). He pressed his tongue to the very top of Blaine's crack, laving it with teasing licks as his hands rose up to knead Blaine's cheeks.

Blaine's hips jerked and he moaned, the broken, needy sound partially smothered by the pillow (Wes's pillow, oops) that he had buried his face in. He was struggling to keep control (a losing battle, as per usual), valiantly fighting the urge to press his ass back against Kurt's mouth. It was going to happen soon, he knew, probably the second he felt Kurt's tongue against his hole, but until then, while he still retained the capacity for coherent thought, he was going to do his best to maintain a modicum of dignity. So he curled his hands in the sheets (Wes's sheets, oh God) and held on for dear life, heart pounding and head spinning because that's what being touched by Kurt did to him.

But now he could feel Kurt's breath above his hole, just a little bit ragged as he pressed a thumb between Blaine's cheeks and stroked a torturously slow circle around his opening.

"Kurt, come on," Blaine begged, his body bending into Kurt's touch.

"What, Blaine?" Kurt asked in a voice that was far too innocent considering the current placement of his thumb, and Blaine could fucking hear him smirking.

"I just - more, please," he said shakily - more contact, more pressure, more anything, anything to relieve the hot, twisting need that was building inside of him. He was writhing just a little now, squirming, really, because Kurt's tongue was so, so close to where he wanted it to be...

And then it was there, hot and wet and swiping firmly over his hole as Kurt's fingers parted his cheeks. Blaine let out an embarrasingly high-pitched whimper and bit down on the pillow, spreading his legs wider in a silent plea. He knew what he must look like right now, and it was kind of terrifying, to be spread and bare and so completely vulnerable beneath another person. But he also kind of loved it, because it was beautiful, remarkable, practically transcendent to share such raw intimacy with someone, with Kurt, to be loved so tenderly and accepted so implicitly that he was willing to surrender himself like this.

And Kurt loved it too, loved that Blaine trusted him enough to be this vulnerable and wanted him enough to be this desperate. He loved that a love so sweet could also be so hot, that the same boy who kissed him on the forehead and serenaded him with Disney songs was stretched out beneath him, naked and hard and practically begging for Kurt's tongue in his ass.

Kurt wrapped his tongue around his index finger and sucked, making sure it was slick with spit before he eased it slowly into Blaine's hole. Blaine tensed at the intrusion and then gradually relaxed, a low groan wrenched from his throat as Kurt began to stretch him. Kurt's finger found his prostate and Blaine's entire body spasmed, torn between rutting into the mattress (Wes's mattress, fuck) and arching back into Kurt's mouth.

Another slick finger, brushing mercilessly over his prostate, and then Jesus, fuck, sweet hell, that tongue was back, circling his entrance and then plunging into his loose hole. Without even realizing how it happened, Blaine was up on his knees, elbows supporting his weight in the front as he jerked back against Kurt's tongue. Kurt responded enthusiastically, hands splaying across Blaine's ass cheeks and pulling so as to grant his tongue better access.

His face was buried in Blaine's ass now, his tongue circling and teasing and darting in and out as Blaine whimpered and groaned above him. The one downside of doing this, Kurt thought, was that he didn't get to see the utterly wrecked expression on Blaine's face as it happened. But the noises - needy whines and breathless moans, inarticulate words and the occasional curse - God, those noises made up for it. If he hadn't been using both hands on Blaine he would have had one down his pants right now.

"Kurt," Blaine gasped, his voice choked. "I - m-my cock, ohgod, please - "

Because he was aching now, throbbing, and there was saliva dripping out of his ass and Kurt's fingers were brushing against his prostate and it was filthy and unbearable and Jesus he had never needed to come so badly in his life. And thank God Kurt understood, slipping a hand around Blaine's thigh and stroking at his balls before taking a firm grip of Blaine's cock and pumping. Blaine's arms nearly gave way beneath him, and he clutched at the sheets, stifling a scream in the pillow.

And now it really was too much, and the heat was building in his stomach and coursing through his body until fuck, yes, ohyesyesyes, he was twitching and coming, hard and hot and all over himself and the bed (Wes's bed, mother of God he was the worst friend ever) beneath him. He collapsed forward in a daze, breathing ragged and heart still racing.

Kurt crawled up his body, dropping random kisses along his back before lying next to him and nuzzling into his neck. Blaine turned his head slightly, one eye appearing as he fixed Kurt with a goofy, slightly embarrassed grin.

"That wasn't fair," he mumbled, trying to sound grumpy and failing spectacularly.

"Mmm," Kurt hummed unapologetically, nipping at Blaine's jaw.

"I came on Wes's sheets," he said, turning so that he was facing Kurt completely now and looking more than a little mortified.

"We'll wash them," Kurt said with a shrug.

"Tonight?"

"Sure."

"Now?"

"Okay."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?" Kurt said innocently, toying with a stray curl above Blaine's ear.

"Do you expect me to believe that you aren't absolutely desperate to get off right now?" Blaine asked, propping himself up on his elbow and raising his eyebrows at Kurt.

Kurt blushed a little, because it was rare to hear Blaine speak so forwardly about something like that.

"I'm fine," he said, pretending to ignore the hard-on pressing against his pajama pants. This became considerably more difficult when Blaine reached between them and pressed his palm against Kurt's groin.

"Liar," Blaine smirked, leaning forward to swallow Kurt's whimper with a kiss.

"What do you want?" he asked, pushing Kurt's pajama pants down his hips and wrapping a firm hand around his length.

"D-doesn't matter," Kurt stammered, biting down on his lip and arching into Blaine's touch.

"Should I suck you?" Blaine murmured into Kurt's collarbone, thumb swiping over the head of Kurt's cock. Kurt squeaked in response, and he felt Blaine's exhale of laughter against his neck.

Blaine pushed Kurt on to his back and slid down his body, lips grazing over a hip bone before his breath was hot on Kurt's cock.

"This won't take lon - God," Kurt gasped, hands flying to his own hair as Blaine's mouth enveloped him.

And he was right, this wasn't going to take long, because he was already so, so close from watching Blaine fall apart, and Blaine was really, unfairly good at sucking cock. His tongue was smooth and warm and the suction was perfect and if Kurt hadn't just had his tongue in Blaine's ass he might have been embarrassed when he came less than three minutes later. But, as it was, he had just had his tongue in Blaine's ass, and he really couldn't find it in him to be worried about lasting when he was coming his brains out down his boyfriend's throat.

When he had sucked Kurt dry, Blaine tugged Kurt's pajama pants back up and planted a soft kiss on his lips before resting his chin on Kurt's chest.

"So, laundry?" he said, once Kurt's breathing had returned to normal.

"I suppose that would be the right thing to do," Kurt sighed.

"Yes," Blaine agreed, sitting up and surveying the mess. He grimaced. "We are horrible friends. Horrible people, actually."

Kurt sat up as well, shaking his head. "It's Wes's own fault. This never would have happened if he hadn't crashed our sleepover." He bit back a laugh as he observed the cum stains. "I made you come pretty hard, huh?"

Blaine blushed and swatted his chest, laughing just a little. "You know what it does to me when you do that."

"Yep, and I love it," Kurt replied, leaning forward for a kiss. "And so do you."

"Not fair," Blaine grumbled against his lips.

"Come on, let's wash these before Wes wakes up and has a heart attack," Kurt said, standing up and pulling Blaine with him.

"Or chases us around the cabin with his gavel," Blaine added.

"The 'cabin,'" Kurt repeated, raising his fingers in air quotes. "The 'cabin' better have a washer and dryer."

They stripped the bed and set off in search of a laundry room, trying not to make too much noise as they giggled and crashed around in the dark. Eventually they found one (thank God), and they stayed up late into the night, sharing a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream as they sat on the machines, talking and waiting for the load to finish. It was nearly 3 AM when they collapsed into Wes's bed once more, the sheets pristine and stain-free beneath them. Before saying goodnight, they took the liberty of hiding Wes's gavel in Kurt's backpack.

Just in case.

I realize there are like 500 things that could have provided the "hands" inspiration for this chapter, but it was the idea of the t-shirt that sparked this whole thing, so I decided to go with that. Hope you liked it, and again sorry for the wait! Hopefully it won't be so long before the next one...