"Fully Clothed" Doesn't Mean Anything
Blaine opened his eyes groggily. His watch read 5am. Where I am I? He thought. He became aware of another body beside him, and he remembered: Kurt's bed. His pulse quickened at the thought. He remembered the events of the night before and groaned inwardly. Rachel Berry? What had he been thinking? More importantly, what had Kurt thought? Well, he couldn't have been too offended, or he wouldn't have let Blaine share his bed. Speaking of which…Blaine cast a glance over Kurt's face. He looked stunning in the moonlight – even more stunning than usual.
Cautiously, Blaine inched forwards until the arch of Kurt's body almost touched his. He lay still for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth that emanated from Kurt. Then, hesitantly, he reached out his hand and, hardly daring to breathe, laid it on Kurt's arm.
Kurt was awake. He felt Blaine move closer to him and wondered if he were dreaming. Could Blaine really be - ? No. Kurt stopped himself. Blaine was asleep, he was just moving around in his sleep, Kurt told himself. We all do that. He could feel Blaine's breath in his ear, and breathed deeply, savouring this closeness. He could smell Blaine: cinnamon and a hint of vanilla. Then, without warning – Blaine's hand was on his arm. Kurt could have sworn his pulse stopped. Blaine's palm seemed to burn through Kurt's pyjamas and set fire to his skin, so intense was the heat that radiated from it. Kurt bit his lip, and tried to remain calm. Blaine was just being friendly, that was all. Kurt was frozen, undecided. Then, summoning all his courage, he slowly leant his head back onto Blaine's chest. He could feel Blaine's heartbeat throbbing powerfully through his sweater, and he sighed contentedly.
Blaine felt Kurt's head tilt back onto his chest. Kurt's tousled hair smelled of hyacinths, and Blaine longed to reach out and stroke it, run his fingers through it, but he stopped himself. He looked past Kurt out the window, and tried to appreciate the beauty of the stars, but he was mesmerised by the silent charm of the sleeping boy next to him. The few centimetres between them could have been a chasm of a hundred metres, so hard were they to bridge. Blaine's common sense screamed at him to stop, to turn around and go back to sleep; but something drawing him to Kurt and he couldn't resist. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, then pulled himself closer to Kurt, so that the curve of Kurt's back fit snugly into Blaine's chest. Blaine breathed out in satisfaction.
Kurt felt the warm weight of Blaine against him, and his eyes flew open. With each breath Blaine took, his ribcage rose and fell against Kurt's back. Although Blaine was the shorter of the two, his head sat above Kurt's, Kurt's head nestled into the crook of Blaine's neck. In a rush of boldness, Kurt pushed his left leg back so that it slipped between Blaine's legs and rested there. Kurt enjoyed the pressure of Blaine's leg on his. The heat from their legs seemed to mingle and become one; one living, breathing, warm body. Kurt felt Blaine's hand in his hair, stroking, twisting, caressing. He melted at Blaine's touch: his hands were soft and warm, and although he was merely stroking Kurt's hair, it felt to Kurt like the most magical touch ever.
Blaine caught his breath in shock as he felt Kurt's leg slip between his. His heart was hammering, so hard and fast he was surprised that Kurt didn't notice. He reached his hand out and placed it lightly on Kurt's head, gently stroking his silky hair. Like a Disney princess, Blaine thought. But I don't need Cinderella or Ariel; I'm in bed with the most beautiful boy in the world. Moving his hand down to softly touch Kurt's neck, he felt a delicate pulse, and let his hand linger there, savouring every second, every heartbeat. He traced the outline of Kurt's jaw, and trailed his finger down the hollow of Kurt's throat. He resisted the overwhelming urge to lean his head down and kiss that perfect outline, but couldn't stop himself from running his hand down Kurt's side and gently holding Kurt's waist.
For a second, as he felt Blaine's hand touch his waist, Kurt forgot to breathe. He then resumed this vital process with renewed vigour as Blaine's finger began to trace circles on his skin. Kurt's breathing became ragged as the tickling sensation sent shivers up and down his spine. He caught Blaine's free hand in his own, and stroked it gently, throwing caution to the wind. Kurt had never been this happy; in his own bed, in his perfectly-decorated room, with the boy of his dreams, Blaine Anderson.
Blaine felt Kurt's breathing deepen, and smiled. He dipped his lips to the hollow of Kurt's neck and planted a silent kiss there, and heard a stifled gasp from Kurt. Abandoning self-restraint, he slipped his hand up under Kurt's pyjama top, and began to rub his chest gently. Kurt's skin was soft and porcelain-smooth, and Blaine couldn't tear his hand away.
Kurt's brain short circuited as he felt Blaine's strong, warm hand roaming his body. He arched his back, pressing into Blaine's body, and gripped Blaine's hand tighter. He felt Blaine further entwine his legs around his, pulling them together.
Blaine freed his other hand and used it to pull Kurt towards him as he explored Kurt's upper body with his hand. He softly kissed Kurt's jaw, neck, throat, chest.
Kurt turned and met Blaine's lips with his.
A/N: Some of you were confused about the ending; I did mean to end it like this, but I knew it was a risk and I'm not sure if it worked. I didn't really know how to end it and it was intended to be kinda ambiguous :P