Chapter 29

Wednesday, October 11th, 2023

Blaine looked up from his laptop as Nick stomped into his apartment, slamming the door against the wall.

"Bad day?"

Nick scowled at him. "You have no idea. God, I need a beer. Want one?"

"Sure," Blaine said. "What happened?"

"The system crashed and my last project didn't get backed up for some reason and it's due tomorrow at eight fucking o'clock in the fucking morning and I had a Skype date with Jeff tonight, and –" He stopped, tugging his fingers through his hair. "You know those days that everything goes wrong? This was one of them."

"Man, that sucks," Blaine said, getting up and walking into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out two Ithaca Cold Fronts. "Here," he said, handing one to Nick. "Drink up."

"Thanks," Nick said, falling backward onto the couch. "I'm just gonna have this one, and then I've got to get to work." He took a long drink of his beer, then looked at Blaine. "Actually, if you want to sleep in a bed for once, I'll probably be up all night."

"I – okay, if you're sure," Blaine said, remembering late writing nights, how much easier it was to nap and then wake up on time when he slept on the couch.

"I'm sure. So how was your day?"

"It was okay." Blaine took a swallow of his beer before continuing, allowing the caramel-malty fizz to bubble on his tongue. "I wrote a lot – I don't know how much of it is even publishable, but right now I'm just sort of word-vomiting in empty documents."

Nick nodded encouragingly. "Well, at least you're getting stuff out of your head and on paper. Why was it just okay?"

Blaine looked at Nick with a mixture of disbelief and respect, wishing he could make himself as selfless as his friend. He was so grateful for Nick's heart. Who else would put his own bad day aside to talk things out, would let a high school friend in a stupid crisis sleep on his couch for over a month? "I don't know," Blaine said. "I think I'm getting impatient."

"Impatient about what?" Nick asked with a knowing smile.

"Moving back with Kurt. Not that your company isn't stellar, but I'd rather be with my husband."

"No hard feelings, man." Nick took a swig of beer, then looked back at Blaine. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

Blaine took a breath, trying to stay calm, to remember what he'd just been thinking about Nick's selfless heart. What was he going to do about it? He was going to therapy twice a week. He'd seen a psychiatrist and had started on antidepressants. He'd apologized and apologized and apologized again, had drawn Kurt flowers on a napkin, had kissed him, then kissed him some more, had helped him make dinner ... He took another breath. "What do you mean, what am I going to do about it?"

"I mean, maybe you need to suck it up and ask him out on a date. He fell for you once – hard, too, god, even I remember what his face looked like the first time you guys met. I bet you can make him fall for you again."

"It's not the falling that's the problem." Blaine laughed drily. "I left. In Kurt's world, that was basically like pushing him off a bridge. He's fallen plenty."

"Well maybe you need to throw him a life preserver, then." Nick paused. "Actually – does the drowning Kurt analogy really work here?"

Blaine chuckled, a real laugh this time. "Not really, no. Kurt's never really been the drowning type. Knowing him, he's hanging onto the underside of the bridge stewing about it."

Nick grinned. "I didn't think so. But what I was trying to say – maybe you need to pursue him, Blaine. Make him know that you still want him."

Blaine was pretty positive that Kurt was aware how much he wanted him, considering the fact that he popped a fairly intense hard-on anytime Kurt was around lately, but he wasn't going to mention that to Nick. "We've been on dates. Several of them. Do you think one more is going to show more effort than taking Prozac?"

"I don't think that it'll help more, necessarily. But – doesn't Kurt still like romance? And weren't you always the king of maybe ill-advised but still very grand gestures? I know that coffee is your thing, and it's nostalgic and sweet, but Blaine – pull some strings! You've been on the New York Times Best-Seller List, twice. Lots of people know your name, and I doubt that excludes five-star chefs in this city."

Blaine sighed. "You know I hate using people like that."

"You aren't using them if they offer. I'm not telling you to demand a table with the best view of the city or anything, just – tell them your name. Tell them that you'd really like a nice night out with your husband, Kurt. Is that really so bad, especially if it would help expedite the moving-home process?"

Blaine contemplated this. Was it really so bad, using his popularity as a means to an end? If he dropped his name, just this once ... "I'm still not convinced that it'll help, but –"

Nick grinned. "It can't hurt to try, though, right? And I bet you can make the calls tonight – it's just six. The restaurants will be open till at least ten."

"Well ..."

"Come on, Blaine, you've read the fanmail. Your books help people. I'm sure that somebody would be willing to do you a favor in return."

He sighed and pictured Kurt, beautiful and laughing in a suit, a glass of wine in his hand. "Okay, fine. Any suggestions about where I should start?"

* * *

Kurt was relaxing in bed, sketching with Romeo curled up beside him. It'd been a good week, and he was pleased that he could say that and mean it – he'd gotten caught up on all the studio gossip thanks to the tiny slow period that always came right after the shows, and everyone at work seemed glad for his return. And it felt good, designing again, like he was back doing what he was meant for.

The only thing still missing was Blaine.

He'd just finished a little boy's look, very Blaine-inspired with cropped pants, saddle shoes and a cardigan – he couldn't get Blaine off his mind; he was always pining, day-dreaming, thinking of him – when his text alert chimed.

From: The Husband

Are you still up?

Kurt picked up his phone with an easy smile and called him.

"Hey, honey," he said after Blaine answered. "Whatcha need?"

"I was just calling to say goodnight." It could've been the connection, but Kurt could have sworn that Blaine sounded a little shy.

"That's sweet of you."

"What're you doing?" Blaine asked.

"Oh, nothing much – just hanging out with Romeo and working on some sketches," Kurt said, looking at what he'd drawn and thinking of a tiny Blaine dressed in his pieces, his curls long and wild. "Romeo says hi, don't you buddy?" He scratched the dog behind his ears, and Romeo let out a contented sigh.

"Tell him I miss him."

"Mmm, he misses you too. What're you doing?"

"Honestly? Thinking about you," Blaine said, and yeah, he definitely sounded shy. Ohhhh, Blaine could be adorable when he tried.

"Good things, I hope."

"Good things," Blaine agreed. "Also, I was wondering ..."

"Yes?" Kurt gently prodded when he trailed off.

"What are you doing Friday evening? After our appointment?"

Kurt had to think for a moment, and then he thought that it was nice that he had to stop and think, that he was getting enough of his life back that he might actually have plans on a Friday. But not this Friday.

"Nothing I'm aware of."

"Do you want to be doing something? Possibly with me?"

Friday night ... "This is more than coffee, isn't it?"

He could hear the hesitance in Blaine's voice. "Well ... that's what I was planning, but if you don't want that ..."

"Why don't you ask me again?" Kurt suggested, twirling his finger around the string on his sweatshirt. "And properly, this time. You know I like to be wooed."

He knew Blaine was smiling. "Alright, fine. Ask Kurt out, take two ... Kurt, are you free on Friday night?"

"Depends on why you're asking," Kurt said playfully.

"Would you care to join me for dinner? At Del Posto?"

Kurt's eyes widened and his hand dropped to the bed. "Oh my god, please tell me you already have reservations."

Blaine chuckled. "Apparently the chef likes my books. We're in if you're in."

"Oh, I'm so in."

"Awesome." Kurt could feel the rays of light beaming off of Blaine's smile through the phone. "I'll pick you up at three-thirty for our appointment, then?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "Blaine?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"I can't wait."

* * *

Thursday, October 12th, 2023

Kurt was bent over his table, carefully cutting a piece of silk that would eventually become an ascot, when Marc leaned over his shoulder.

"It's out," he murmured, his breath tickling Kurt's ear. "Jackie's making the announcement today after lunch. You should talk to Blaine – I want to officially offer you the position on Monday."

Kurt laid his scissors down, turned on his stool. "But I've only been back four days –"

"Stop," Marc said softly, holding a hand up. "I've made my decision, unless you're refusing."

"No, but –"

"Then stop," he smiled. "And talk to your husband. I want his blessing before we go through with this."

* * *

Friday, October 13th, 2023

"So, I have an announcement to make," Kurt said, crossing his legs primly as he settled onto the couch in Dr. Jacobson's office with Blaine.

Blaine cocked his head a little as his heart surged with hope. "What is it, Kurt?" he asked, trying to temper his voice.

"When I went back to work on Monday, I had a little meeting with Marc."

Blaine managed to keep his face even, not showing the disappointment that Kurt's announcement had nothing to do with him. "Did you show him your sketches?"

"I did," Kurt said, pulling his sketchbook out and handing it to Dr. Jacobson. "Those are top-secret – I know you have privacy laws and everything, but seriously, don't mention them to anyone," he told her.

"Of course not," she said, flipping through the pages. "Kurt – these are wonderful!"

"That's what I told him," Blaine said, his chest swelling a little with pride. "So what'd Marc say?"

"Well, he loved them. And it just so happens that some things are shifting in the label's hierarchy ..." Kurt said, a grin spreading across his face as he spoke.

"What exactly does that mean?" Blaine asked.

Kurt beamed and grabbed Blaine's hand. "The creative director over Little Marc Jacobs is leaving in three weeks, and Marc wants me to step into her position!" he exclaimed.

"Oh my god," Blaine breathed. "Oh my god, Kurt –" He pitched forward, pulling Kurt into a tight hug on the couch. "Creative director?" He pulled back, grasping Kurt's shoulders, then tugged him into another hug. "Oh my god, I'm so proud of you, creative director –"

"So ... not to ruin your celebration, but what exactly does that mean?" Dr. Jacobson asked, gesturing to her jeans and crocheted purple poncho sweater. "I'm sure you haven't noticed, but I'm not exactly operating at the height of fashion, here..."

"Creative director is the highest position you can hold within a label without actually owning the name," Kurt said, squeezing Blaine's hand tight, beaming so hard his eyes were crinkled almost-shut. "I'll be in charge of designing all the looks, with help and inspiration from the designers working under me, and I'll hold a much more managerial position than I did before. It also comes with a pretty hefty raise."

"Well that sounds wonderful!" Dr. Jacobson said. "Will it be more hours?"

"I think it might be, but it'll be different – the kids' line doesn't do Fashion Week, so I won't be travelling as much. It'll be much more locally-based."

Blaine sat back on the couch, contemplating what that might mean. No Fashion Week stress, no more weeks without his husband. Kurt would be home with him – or, no, actually he wouldn't. Because Blaine wasn't home yet.

"Blaine?" Dr. Jacobson asked. "How are you feeling about this?"

Blaine smiled. "Good. I feel really good ..." he paused, turning to Kurt. "...as long as you do, too. Will it make you happy?"

Kurt beamed at him. "I think so."

"Good. Then I'm all for it."

"Well, congratulations to you both, then," Dr. Jacobson smiled. "How are things going with the two of you?"

"Well," Kurt drawled, tracing patterns on the back of Blaine's hand with his forefinger. There was a demure look in his eyes that made something inside Blaine's chest stir. "Somebody asked me out on a very nice date tonight ..."

* * *

Kurt was swinging his and Blaine's clasped hands in between them as they walked down the sidewalk in the East Village. "Hey," he said, "thanks for being so supportive today. I – I'm really feeling good about us right now."

Blaine smiled softly. "You're welcome. And I am, too."

"I'm looking forward to our date tonight." Kurt's cheeks were pink and a bashful smile softened his face.

"Me too," Blaine said, nudging Kurt's shoulder with his own as they came to the street where they had to part ways. Blaine had a sudden, almost panicked feeling as he realized he needed to let go of Kurt's hand. He didn't want to. "Kurt ..."

"Honey?"

"I know you need to go, I'm sorry, I just – I'm trying really hard. I just want you to know that."

"I know," Kurt said. "And I really, really appreciate that."

"This, tonight?" Blaine said. "It's because I love you so much, and I want to make you happy. I want us to be happy again."

Kurt smiled tenderly, cupping Blaine's cheek in his hand. "I know you do. So do I."

"Okay," Blaine sighed, finally letting go of Kurt's hand. "I'll pick you up at seven?"

Kurt pressed a soft, sweet kiss on Blaine's lips before standing back and smiling at him. "Sounds perfect."

* * *

Kurt was closing the kitchen utensil drawer on a strategically-placed bottle of lube when he heard Blaine knock on the door.

"Come on in!" he called, doing a once-over of the candles he'd laid out on the dining room table in a long, straight line, making sure the lighter was handy. When he turned around, Blaine was standing in the doorway in a deliciously-fitted steel blue suit with a hint of sheen to it, holding a huge bouquet of red and yellow roses.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, leaving the lighter on the table and striding forward to take his roses. "Our flowers. They're gorgeous."

Blaine kissed him gently. "So are you," he said, their foreheads pressed together.

Oh, I want you in my bed tonight. "Thank you," Kurt said, running the fingers of his free hand down Blaine's face. "I like your suit."

"Oh yeah?" Blaine asked, relinquishing his grip on the back of Kurt's neck to turn slowly in a circle in front of him, slowing down even more when his ass was facing Kurt. "I hoped you might. I snuck in and stole it out of the closet while you were at work yesterday."

Kurt laughed and rolled his eyes, smacking Blaine's ass playfully. He saw Blaine's eyes dart around the room as he turned back around, catching sight of the candles and lighter on the table. Something that looked like hope shone in Blaine's eyes.

"Let me just get these in a vase and I'll be ready to go," Kurt said, scurrying back around to the kitchen to open the bottom cabinet. He pulled out a flared glass vase and stood at the sink, adding a few inches of water to the bottom.

"Mmm, I'm very busy and important, you know," Blaine teased as he began to trim the stems. "You shouldn't keep me waiting."

"Busy and important, huh? Busy with what?"

He felt Blaine's arms snake around his waist and tug him close. "Wooing you."

* * *

"Blaine, this is so good I might die," Kurt said, grinning wildly as he sipped on his wine and placed a piece of pumpkin cappellacci in his mouth, moaning softly as he chewed. "I can't believe you got us in on such short notice."

Blaine shrugged, smiling. "I just wanted to do something special for you. I really miss you, Kurt. Really. I think Nick is totally sick of hearing me whine about it, actually."

"I know," Kurt sighed, "I miss you, too." He reached across the table and grasped Blaine's hand in his. "Thank you for this."

Blaine brought Kurt's fingers to his lips, kissing them gently. "You're welcome." He paused. "I don't think you'll ever know how glad I am to see you eating again," he said, his voice a little thick.

Kurt smiled. "I don't know about that. You're probably almost as glad as I am. I missed food."

"Well, it looks good on you. You look fantastic tonight." Kurt blushed deeply. "You do!" Blaine insisted.

"Well ..." Kurt paused, leaning over the table conspiratorially. "I've started yoga again. I looked like shit before my muscle tone started to come back."

"Mmm," Blaine hummed. "Are you just as bendy as you always were?"

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down as the other patrons cast annoyed glances at him. "What kind of a question is that?"

Blaine shrugged, a twinkle in his eye and his lips trying to quirk up into a smile. "Just wondering."

* * *

"Oh my god, Kurt, are you reading this?" Blaine asked, holding a dessert menu in front of him. "Chocolate ricotta tortino, toasted pistachios, and extra-virgin olive oil gelato. Limone cremoso, peach marmelletto, and polenta crocantte. Butterscotch semifreddo, melon agrumata, & crumbled sss- sbri- sbr-something? I don't know what all of that even means, but god it sounds amazing," Blaine groaned.

Kurt took another sip of wine, trying not to focus on the blood heading from his head southward at the noise Blaine just made. He went to set his glass down, then thought better of it and took another, larger sip for good measure.

"Do you want to split one?" he asked, nodding to the menu. "Or do you want your own?"

"Let's get two and split them," Blaine said, grinning back.

"Oh, you are sinful." Kurt braced a hand on his chair next to his thigh, trying to steady himself from the sudden, heady feeling that was making him a little dizzy. Maybe that had been a bigger swallow of wine than he'd thought ... "But I might be persuaded."

Several minutes later, the waiter brought two plates of post-dinner decadence and two glasses of dessert wine and left them to indulge in private. Blaine was hovering a spoon near Kurt's lips and Kurt found himself parting them, letting the cool metal slip inside as his eyes shut. He closed his mouth around it, moaning involuntarily as the cold butterscotch custard slid off and began to melt on his tongue. Blaine withdrew the spoon ever so slowly, and when Kurt opened his eyes again, Blaine's pupils were large, black full moons in his honey-colored eyes.

"Jesus," Blaine whispered.

Kurt grinned. "Why don't we save the confession until after we're done sinning with the dessert, honey. It's your turn." He gathered a little spoonful of the chocolate ricotta tortino, whatever that happened to be, along with a bit of olive oil gelato, and nudged Blaine's lips open. The sound that came from Blaine's throat as he tasted it was nearly orgasmic, and Kurt felt his own pupils dilate a bit. He leaned forward again, grateful that the table was small. "We're gonna need to eat this dessert a little faster, because I really need to take you home with me."

Blaine's eyes popped open. "Kurt –" he said, hesitating a little. "I'm sorry, but ... I need to know what that means. I –"

"It means," Kurt said, sliding his foot up Blaine's ankle, making him shudder, "exactly what you think it does. I miss you. So let's hurry and eat our dessert, mkay?"

Blaine's eyes widened even more, and he scooped up a big spoonful of the butterscotch semifreddo and placed it in his mouth determinedly. The determination didn't last very long, however, as he seemed to melt under the flavors. Kurt understood completely. "Good, isn't it?" he said with a smile as Blaine's eyes rolled back in his head.

"Mmm-hmm," Blaine said, nodding as he swallowed, then grinned darkly. "But not nearly as good as you're gonna be later."

* * *

"So, just out of curiosity – mmmm, Kurt – when'd you decide this was ohhhhh-kay?" Blaine asked, sighing and stuttering as Kurt pressed him up against the elevator wall.

"Gradual process," Kurt said in between kisses, licking over Blaine's neck. "God, I'm glad you don't have an office job where I have to worry about leaving hickeys."

Blaine laughed, stretching his neck even further. Kurt could give him all the hickeys his heart desired – being marked wasn't something Blaine was going to complain about. "I missed you," he whispered, winding his fingers in Kurt's hair. "I missed you, missed you – god, Kurt, your mouth –" He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall, when –

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Marshall!" Kurt squeaked.

Blaine's eyes popped open just in time to see his neighbor grinning slyly as the elevator doors closed behind her back.

"Fun night out, boys?"

"Uhhh –" Blaine stammered, praying that she wouldn't notice the obvious tenting in his suit pants.

"Yes!" Kurt exclaimed, his voice a little breathy as well. "Blaine took me to Del Posto!"

"Mmm," she said knowingly as the elevator stopped at their floor. "Well, it's good to see you again, Blaine. Seems like it's been a while. You have a lovely evening." She patted Blaine's arm as he walked off the elevator, winking at him.

"Oh my god," he said, burying his face in his hands once the doors blessedly closed in front of her. "How much did she see?"

"Oh, she saw plenty," Kurt said, taking his hand and pulling him toward their door. "But I don't think she really seemed to mind, which ..."

"Which is disturbing on about ten levels, and which I am not going to think too hard about, because there are other things I'd much rather be doing," Blaine finished for him, jiggling his key in the lock. "Like you."

"Let's see what we can do about that," Kurt said, his voice low in his throat as he removed Blaine's hand from the door handle and opened it himself. He let Blaine go ahead of him, kicking the door shut behind him as he gently grasped Blaine's shoulders and walked him backward through the entryway and pressed him against the built-in bookcases.

Kurt's mouth was warm and wet, sucking and nipping at his neck. Blaine groaned as Kurt's fingers deftly untied his tie, flinging it from Blaine's neck onto the table, and began unbuttoning his shirt buttons, slowly peeling his collar back and making a clear path of skin to follow. Blaine sighed, gripping the ledge of the bookcase with both hands as Kurt claimed his collarbones and sternum. He'd been waiting a long time for this.

He was already painfully hard, his cock straining against the fly of his suit pants. He realized that no matter how much masturbating he'd done in the last two days while he tried to prepare for this night on the off-chance that Kurt would want to go farther than he had, nothing could've prepared him for the overwhelming feeling of Kurt surrounding him. It had been so long, and Kurt was so good, and – "Oh, Kurt, Kurt, hang on –"

His lack of stamina in that moment was embarrassing. Kurt hadn't even touched his cock, and he was about to pulse out an orgasm before he even got his pants off. But it had been so long, and he wanted it so bad ...

"We need to get off. Now," Kurt said, so sure, and then Blaine was alone with a bruised neck and a too-hard dick while Kurt inexplicably went into the kitchen.

Seconds later he was back, a bottle of lube in his hand. "Kurt –" Blaine said, squinting at it in the dark condo. "The lube was in the kitchen? You planned this?"

"Shhh," Kurt whispered, grinning as he pressed against Blaine in an open-mouthed kiss. "I knew the second you called and asked me out. I miss you, too, you know. I like my body when it is with your body," he recited, lining up their erections, and Blaine's brain proceeded to short-circuit.

"Off," he ordered, undoing Kurt's belt and button and fly and tugging his pants and underwear down to his hips. "Kurt –"

Kurt's hands were just as fast, and both their pants and briefs were pooled at their ankles in seconds. But Blaine didn't have time to think about looking stupid, his shoes and socks still on, even his jacket for that matter, because Kurt squirted a small dollop of lube in his palm and wrapped his hand around both of them together.

"Fuck," Blaine grunted, grabbing hold of Kurt's shoulders and immediately thrusting up. "Oh god – oh god –" He tried to make quick work of Kurt's own buttons, which he'd been too preoccupied to undo, but his body had other plans and his hands ended up on Kurt's hips.

"Oh my god," Kurt panted, his head dropping onto Blaine's shoulder as his thrusts moved in somewhat-coordinated synchrony with Blaine's. "Oh, you feel so good, oh god –"

"This – shit – is gonna be path-uhhhhhh – pathetically short," Blaine panted.

"'S ok. We've got all night."

Blaine took one hand from Kurt's hip and placed it atop Kurt's hand, squeezing more pressure as he started to see spots. Kurt gasped, twisting his hips and thrusting them up hard into their hands, rubbing deliciously against Blaine's cock. "God, yes," he grunted, squeezing even tighter, thrusting faster himself. "Oh, fuck –" He threw his head back, closing his eyes, and grasped a big handful of Kurt's ass, yanking him closer.

"Blaine – oh god –"

And in a matter of a few minutes, their rhythm was completely gone. They were moaning against each other, sweat pooling under arms and on foreheads and under suit jackets, and neither of them could bring themselves to care. Blaine's hips were moving like pistons, pumping forward-back, forward-back. There would be a nice purple bruise on the back of his hip where he kept running it into the bookshelf ledge, but there wasn't any stopping – the pleasure was overwhelming; it kept peaking higher and higher; if there was a meter it would've been broken.

He chanted Kurt's name as Kurt sank his teeth lightly into Blaine's shoulder and let out a muffled shout, and suddenly everything was wet, wet, wet and warm and Kurt was shaking and Blaine's hips were flying.

Blaine was strung tight, his entire body pulled taut like a string drawn too-far back on a bow, gasping into Kurt's suit jacket and thrusting into his own hand, and then a shudder and release and he was pulsing, even the very core of him, and he and Kurt grasped for each other and slid to the floor in a heap of come and lube and sweat and tangled pants.

* * *

It was a while before Blaine came back to himself, realized that there was come sticking the tail of his shirt to his pubic hair, and damn, that was going to be a bitch to get off. He grunted and shifted – Kurt's elbow was poking into his ribs. Kurt let his head roll back, looked up at Blaine with big oceans of eyes, his shirt open and his perfect chest with its perfect downy hair on display, and Blaine was so in love. How could he have ever walked out on this?

"How could I have ever walked out on you?" he murmured aloud, but Kurt grinned and put his forefinger over his mouth.

"Shhhh, we're not talking about that," he said.

"Our floors are hard." Blaine grunted and shifted again.

"Our bed is soft," Kurt said, "and I've kind of wanted to have you in it all night. What say you?"

"I say we go thither."

Kurt burst into giggles. "God, I love you."

Blaine worried his face might break in half with the force of his smile. "I love you, too," he said, tucking his head down and kissing Kurt sweetly on the tip of his nose. Blaine loved Kurt's nose. Blaine loved all parts of Kurt – his hair follicles and his toenails and his –

"Blaine? Bed?"

"Bed!" Blaine sang happily, then groaned as he tried to pull himself upright, grabbing onto the bookcase, only for his hand to slip off again. "Oh. There's lube on here. Or come. Or a combination of the two."

Kurt, apparently very agile from his yoga (and Blaine couldn't wait to test his limits there), hopped up and took a look at the bookcase. "Nothing that won't come off in the morning," he decided, shucking his shoes and pants and briefs, and offered Blaine a hand. "Oh, honey," he said as Blaine got to his feet, tripping over his pants as he went, "your hip."

Blaine craned his neck to see, and sure enough, a purple bruise was already blooming right on the bone. "I guess you'll just have to kiss it better."

"Mmm, that looks like it might take a lot of kisses."

"Well you'd better get to it then, hadn't you?"

They stumbled into the bedroom, unwilling to let go of each other even to get through the door, then into the bathroom to rid themselves of the rest of their offending and sticky clothing. Blaine ran water over the tail of his shirt and carefully peeled it off while Kurt kept giggling behind him. Once they were properly naked, Kurt grabbed his hand, dragged him back into the bedroom, and they collapsed on the bed.

"Hey," Blaine said, popping his head up to look around. "Where's Romeo?"

Kurt grinned darkly. "Rachel's puppy-sitting tonight."

"You think of everything, don't you?"

"Yep," Kurt said, rolling over to open a drawer.

Blaine peered over Kurt's shoulder. "Oh my god, you got the good stuff."

"If by 'good stuff,' you mean silicone-based, then yes, I did."

"And whatever could we do with that?" Blaine asked, grinning.

"Oh, I can think of lots of things. Any requests?"

An idea slowly began to form in Blaine's mind, quickly gaining shape and color and image and oh, that was a nice image; he wanted more of that image. He wanted to see that image in their mirror. "Um, actually ..."

"Hmm?"

"I want you to fuck me. So that I can see. And I – I kind of want you to wear the butt-plug. And then I want to fuck you." He paused. "Um ... if that's okay. I know it's kind of a big leap, going from nothing to getting out the box, but ..."

Kurt's eyes grew big as dinner plates, and it seemed that all he could do was nod, a little erratically.

"Okay, right," Blaine said, a little unsure of what to do now. But Kurt was way ahead of him, diving over the side of the bed, his pretty, pale ass sloping beautifully as he hung halfway upside-down.

"Got it!" he said, pulling himself back up.

Blaine watched, his mouth watering a little as Kurt dug through and found the bright cherry red butt-plug. He took the box from Kurt's hands and set it back on the ground, then grabbed Kurt up in a strong hug, lowering him back down to the bed. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"I don't have words for how much I've missed you, Blaine. Yes, I'm sure," Kurt whispered. "If you told me you wanted to move to the desert right now I might even do that, too. A plug is nothing."

Blaine sank his mouth down over Kurt's neck again, pulling a little whimpery noise from his throat.

"Tell me it's nothing when I get it inside," Blaine murmured, teasing his fingers around the inside of Kurt's thighs, running them gently over his balls. "God, I can't wait to watch you fuck me ..."

"Blaine –"

"Shhhh," Blaine whispered, slicking his fingers. He lowered his head to Kurt's chest to lave at a nipple as he spread Kurt's legs apart with his elbow, reaching down and back to find Kurt's hole. Blaine rubbed over it with the tip of a finger and Kurt clenched under his touch, gasping and arching his back. He teased at it like that for several minutes, long enough for Kurt's hands to grasp at the sheets, his arms reaching out to the sides. Finally, when Kurt was on the verge of begging, Blaine slipped his finger inside.

He'd almost forgotten how silky Kurt felt on the inside. Kurt felt so good, and he was just a finger in – he couldn't wait to sink the plug into his hole, to sheath his cock with Kurt's ass.

"Blaine ..." Kurt moaned softly, slowly riding his finger.

"Mmm-hmm?"

"I'm so sorry we fought for so long." Kurt gasped as he rolled his hips in one particular direction, and Blaine tried to mimic the angle. "I – it was never you – god, my only good thing was you ..."

"Shhh," Blaine whispered, pressing wet, open kisses to Kurt's chest.

"Blaine – oh, god, more please – Blaine, we can't – you're everything –" Kurt babbled as Blaine added the tip of a second finger, letting Kurt get used to the stretch. Unless there was a lot of dildo use that Kurt had kept a secret, it had been a long time since he'd been filled up like he was about to be.

"I know, baby," Blaine murmured into his skin, slowly beginning to move, smiling to himself when Kurt moaned loudly as he sank deeper. "I love you. I love you so much, I swear, I'll never leave you again."

Kurt was clinging to him with both arms now, one around his neck, holding onto his back, and the other his shoulder. "God, Blaine, ohhhh," he breathed as Blaine brushed playfully, torturously over his prostate, then backed up, moving his fingers around for the maximum stretch. "Oh, you feel so good ..."

He slid his fingers in and out, slowly, carefully, letting Kurt rock harder down onto them when he wanted – and oh, apparently he did want. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, holding it still as he fucked himself harder, up and down on his fingers.

"You still with me?" Blaine asked.

"Need to feel you, need to feel," Kurt panted, his hips still rocking rhythmically.

"I swear, you'll be so full in a minute. Just be a little patient, baby."

Kurt's eyes slid open. "Add another?"

Blaine nodded, slipping in a third finger slowly, carefully beside the other two. Kurt groaned loudly, his cock twitching back to life, and god Blaine couldn't wait until the tables turned, and he was fucking himself on Kurt's fingers.

"I wish you could see yourself right now," Blaine whispered, gazing in awe at his husband, his legs asunder, cheeks rosy pink, hair unkempt. "I just – it doesn't make sense, how sexy you are. You're defying the laws of nature right now."

Kurt laughed, his chest rapidly rising and falling. "I don't know about that – but I feel kind of sexy."

Blaine bit back his own groan at Kurt's words. "You should," he growled into Kurt's ear, easing all three fingers back and forth in Kurt's ass, "because I could eat you with a fucking spoon ..."

Kurt sighed and arched his back again, like a cat stretching to be petted, and Blaine's fingers sank deeper. "Mmm, put it in," Kurt said, swiveling his hips. "Wanna fuck you."

"God, yes," Blaine said, quickly finding the plug and carefully withdrawing his fingers, kissing Kurt through the gasp he let out when he was empty again, clenching around nothing. "Here baby, we're almost there ..." He squirted more lube on the toy, made sure Kurt was still nice and wet, and lined the round, blunt tip up with Kurt's hole. It slipped in effortlessly until the widest part, and as Blaine eased it inside Kurt moaned even louder than before.

"Fuck," he gasped, "it's right – god, it's sitting on –"

"Do you need to take it out?" Blaine asked.

"No, but – ohhhh, fuck – I just – shit – I have to get used to it. I, um. It's a good thing we got off once already."

Blaine grinned. "Brilliant plan on our parts."

"Yes, multiple orgasms. Definitely brilliant," Kurt replied, wiggling his ass a little. "Um, can you –"

"Oh! Right. My turn," Blaine said, dropping to his back to switch places with Kurt when he found himself caught in a kiss he felt in the marrow of his bones. Kurt was licking into him, not just with his tongue, but it felt like with his soul as well, like he was trying to reach in and touch the deepest parts of him, pull them to the surface. "Oh, Kurt," he sighed when Kurt pulled back, a dreamy look in his eyes.

Kurt kept kissing him as his fingers slipped inside of Blaine, stretching out what had been closed tight for so long, and it was as if Kurt moving in him unhinged something that had been clamped shut. Blaine clung to the sheets, trying to hold himself together. There were shocks of pleasure firing all over him and his toes were curling at the air, his calves threatening to cramp up as Kurt's fingers twisted inside him.

"Stay with me," Kurt said, his breath ragged. Blaine knew that every time he moved, the plug was rubbing up against his prostate. A drop of precome had already leaked out onto Blaine's stomach, had been swiped up by Blaine's finger and licked off with a loud moan.

"I'm here, baby," Blaine murmured, rolling his hips up and down Kurt's fingers. "But – I want – god, I want you buried –"

It didn't take much convincing, just those few little words and Kurt's fingers were pulling out. Blaine rolled over onto his hands and knees, positioned so that when they looked sideways, they could see themselves in the mirror on their dresser, red-faced and wanton. He spread his knees wide, and felt the silky, blunt head of Kurt's cock pressing at his entrance. They both groaned as the head easily slipped inside, as Kurt kept pushing with just enough pressure until he bottomed out, his balls grazing Blaine's ass.

"Oh, my fuck," Kurt jabbered, rocking his hips in a wide circle. "Oh my – Blaine, you feel, oh god –"

As Kurt thrust into him, it was like something inside Blaine began to mend. He hadn't felt that whole in a very long time. He cried out when Kurt thrust forward then pulled immediately back, his hips snapping back toward the plug, trying to find the angle again, and oh, this was a good idea. And then he remembered that he could look.

Kurt's face was twisted in pleasure, his hips rocking shallowly in and out, toward Blaine's prostate and then toward the plug. Blaine could just make out the red outline buried in Kurt's ass and oh he was a genius. This, Kurt falling apart inside him, was one of the hottest things he'd ever witnessed.

"It's like I didn't even come before!" Kurt said, panting as he started thrusting harder, his balls now swinging, smacking against the curve of Blaine's ass. "God, I just – Blaine – you're so fucking tight –"

"Fuck me," Blaine heard himself say, saw himself say in the mirror. It didn't even look like him, his head thrown back and his mouth ajar. "Kurt, fuck me, hard, I need to feel it tomorrow –"

He needed to know that this was real, that it had happened, that it wasn't just some fantasy he'd dreamed up. He wanted to feel Kurt's cock in his ass for a week, wanted to see their reflections from the mirror, wanted to be able to conjure their faces. And quite the faces they were making, both of them. He was slack-jawed, his lips parted in pleasure, and Kurt's eyes were squeezed shut, his whole face drawn up tight with the tension.

"Look in the mirror, baby," Blaine instructed, wanting Kurt to be privy to it as well. "Watch what you're doing to me ..."

Kurt's eyes opened in the mirror. "Shit, we look like pornstars."

"So fuck me like one."

Blaine half expected a snarky comment, but instead he felt Kurt's legs start to shake as he began to slam into Blaine, deep and hard, inciting grunts and groans and growls and god he felt like Kurt was taking him apart from the inside out.

"Fuck, Blaine –"

"Just like that," Blaine moaned, "like that, that's perfect, right there –"

"Blaine, god, I'm so close already ... This fucking butt-pluuuuuuu –" Kurt cut himself off, his hips wheeling in directions that Blaine didn't even know they could go, and yeah, Kurt would probably be feeling it tomorrow too.

"You can come if you need to, Kurt," Blaine said, watching his own cock get wet at the tip as Kurt's face contorted, fucking into him fast and hard. "You can come – god, please come, fill me up with you, oh god –"

"Blaine," Kurt gasped, his cock snapping so deep that Blaine jolted. "Fuck, fuck fuu-huh-huh-huuuuuck," he chanted with each final thrust, pulsing inside of Blaine and falling forward onto Blaine's back, thrusting shallowly. Blaine wished as he watched Kurt in the mirror that he'd set up some sort of video camera.

"Oh my god," Kurt gasped, still draped over Blaine's back. "Oh my god ... the plug, can you get it out?"

"Of course," Blaine said, gasping a little as Kurt pulled out of him, spilling lube and come all over their sheets. "Turn over." Kurt did, breathing hard, and Blaine eased the toy out of Kurt's ass as gently as he could manage.

"Thanks," Kurt breathed, flopping onto the bed on his stomach. "It was just – a little over-stimulating –"

"Hey." Blaine scooted up in the bed, running his fingers through Kurt's hair while he tried to ignore his own leaking cock. "If you're too sensitive for me to –"

"No, no, I want you to," Kurt said, smiling a little shyly, and god it was the cutest thing Blaine had ever seen. "I just – the plug was right on my prostate, and –"

"Okay," Blaine said, grabbing the bottle of lube. "I'll try to start slow."

Kurt craned his neck to look back at Blaine. "You really don't have to."

Blaine blinked at him. "Um. Okay." He slicked up his cock, taking deep breaths and desperately trying not to come from his own hand, then looked down to see Kurt reaching back, pulling himself apart for Blaine. "Jesus, Kurt ..."

"I love you," Kurt said with an easy grin, his head turned to the side on his pillow so he could see better.

"Love you, too," Blaine said, groaning loudly as he finally pressed into Kurt's hole, still open and ready for him. "Oh, Kurt, god –" His hips took on a mind of their own, cranking up the speed almost instantaneously, and he was glad that Kurt had gotten fully stretched out before he started. Blaine felt like he was going to explode, like his cock was holding all the feelings in his body, and while it wasn't like he was poorly endowed, it just wasn't big enough for all of them, and oh god Kurt felt like heaven inside, and – "I'm never leaving you," Blaine said, his brain whirring even faster than his hips, "never, ever, ever again, how I could've done that, fuck, oh Kurt, oh god I'm so cloooose ..."

"Come, honey." Kurt's voice was soft, sleepy underneath him, but Blaine managed to wrench his eyes open long enough to see that Kurt's face looked happy and serene. "Come for me – you made me come so hard – it's your turn, come on ..."

"Kurt, love you, love you, lo-uh-uh-uh-uh –" His brain turned off and his body took over, grunts coming from his throat as he plunged in-in-into Kurt's perfect ass. He was right on the edge. Everything felt white-hot, every nerve buzzed with want and need and oh god, he was going to die before he came. He realized he was moaning, loudly. Kurt was saying something that he couldn't quite register – all he could feel or focus on was relieving the ohgodneedtocomenow sensation that his cock, his entire body was screaming with.

He grasped at the headboard, threaded his other arm under Kurt's pelvis, Kurt's cock mostly soft against his belly, and drove in twice, deep and hard. And finally relief – he was coming again, his body vibrating as he shot inside of Kurt, making everything wetter, slipperier. Someone was shouting and he realized after a moment that it was him, and that Kurt was making the most perfectly pleased noises underneath him. The aftershocks were still shaking him as he slowly eased out and his whole body shuddered and oh god when did he get so tired?

"Oh my god," he said, flopping his body down next to Kurt's. "Oh my god, Kurt, oh my god." He turned on his side, brushing Kurt's hair out of his eyes where it had flopped down on his forehead. "Was that – was that okay?" he panted. "I didn't hurt you, there at the end?"

"Oh, honey, no," Kurt said thickly, and Blaine pulled him forward, wrapping him in a tight embrace, jizz and lube be damned.

"I missed you so much." Kurt's voice was watery, threatening tears, and Blaine would not make him cry anymore, would never make him cry again, so he kissed and kissed and kissed him, kissed his eyes and his nose and his ears and his chest.

"I missed you too. Never again," Blaine promised. "Never, ever, ever again, I love you so much. Never again."

"Do you swear it?" Kurt asked, suddenly fierce.

"I swear," Blaine promised solemnly, then kissed him back into sleepy bliss, lips everywhere, whispering his love into Kurt's skin. "I love you. I'm trying, and I love you, and – I love you, Kurt."

"I love you, too."

"I missed our bed."

Kurt smiled sadly. "I missed you in our bed."

"I'm in it now," Blaine whispered, pulling Kurt closer to him, tucking Kurt's head on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm so sorry, I love you – I swear, I swear I'll never leave you again, I'll take the rest of my life to make you believe it if I need to ..."

Kurt kissed him gently. "I don't think it'll take quite that long."

He squeezed around Kurt's waist, shifting so they were comfortable but still tangled together. Kurt had drifted off, was making tiny little snoring sounds, and Blaine was headed that way when he remembered, his stomach sinking a little.

He tried to get out of Kurt's arms without him waking up, but Kurt stirred under him. "Blaine? What's wrong, honey?"

"Shhh, go back to sleep," Blaine whispered, slipping out of the soft sheets.

"No, what is it?" Kurt asked, sitting up. "Are you okay?"

Blaine sighed. "I'm fine. I just – my pill. I have to take it before bed."

"Your – oh," Kurt said, recognition dawning in his eyes.

"Kurt, I'm sorry," Blaine said, feeling guilty for waking Kurt, angry that a stupid pill was standing in the way of his sleep and cuddle time with Kurt.

"Don't be sorry. It's fine. You take your pill, we'll clean up, then back to cuddles. Simple, right?"

Blaine smiled wanly. "Right," he said, his bare feet smacking the floor as he walked back into the dining room to find his pants.