Blaine's touch is soft against Kurt's cheek, a gentle caress as their lips move together. Kurt tries to lose himself to the feeling, his husband against him, snakes his fingers into Blaine's loose curls as the kiss deepens.
They lay like that for some time, in this bed they've shared for years, kissing slowly, allowing themselves the time to explore each other, and it feels nice, Kurt thinks.
It should feel more than nice, he thinks.
It's not that he doesn't want this with Blaine. Not that he doesn't want to kiss his husband, to touch his husband, to make love to his husband. Or at least, he wants to want those things.
Their sex life had taken a hit when their daughter had come into their lives; but that was expected, of course. That was one of the prices of being a parent. But it wasn't from a lack of want, then, it was a lack of time and privacy.
He still remembers the day they'd tried to fit in some quality time during one of her naps. Blaine had been wearing Kurt's favourite pants, and he just couldn't help but drag him to their bedroom to have his way with him once they'd gotten their daughter to fall asleep.
He'd pushed Blaine onto the bed, and made quick work of opening his husband's pants – those pants – and peeling them off him. He still remembers the way Blaine had laughed at him, the way his breath hitched and the laugh morphed into a groan as Kurt took him into his mouth.
He still remembers the sudden, unexpected thrust that choked him for just a moment when she'd appeared in the doorway, wide amber eyes and a mop of messy brown curls on her head, and shocked the both of them into a panic.
It was the last time they'd tried to get away with something during one of her naps.
Blaine is above him now, pressing him into the mattress, mouthing at Kurt's throat and grinding his hips down.
It feels nice, Kurt thinks.
He wishes it felt nicer. Wishes he wanted this more.
After she'd passed, they hadn't been intimate at all. Blaine would try, sometimes, but Kurt always had an excuse.
Eventually, the excuses weren't good enough.
Blaine's never forced him, of course not. He would never. But he had started asking questions. Asking if it was something wrong with Blaine. Asking if it was because Kurt was depressed. Asking so many questions, none of which Kurt wanted to answer. So Kurt stopped making excuses, because he didn't want Blaine to worry, didn't want to have to answer the questions. And it worked. Kurt was glad. Blaine is good; he deserves to be happy.
He gives Blaine's hair a gentle tug, pulls him up and presses their lips together again, tries to want this more than he does.
Maybe if he acts the part long enough, eventually it won't be acting anymore.
And if not, well… at least he's a good actor.