Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Glee, not Kurt, not Blaine. If I did, this shit would be canon.

A/N: This was written as a celebration of my 1000th post on Tumblr (my URL is ajanders). I texted my friend asking what I should do for the post and she replied with 'naked' so I wrote a drabble for it.


Blaine couldn't help looking at Kurt naked on the bed next to him, sheets slipped off in the hot summer's night, warm sunlight filtering through the drapes, kissing over Kurt's exposed skin. He could never get enough of seeing Kurt like this, completely relaxed and on display. He loved it almost as much as the way Kurt looked, the way Kurt looked at him after they had sex

Awake, Kurt was stunning; Blaine swore he'd never seen anyone quite as breathtakingly beautiful as Kurt and he sometimes wondered what he'd done to deserve him.

Asleep, Kurt was somehow even more beautiful. He was angelic and a little untouchable. His features softened in his sleep, no longer tense as he called out orders or dealt with things, dealt with everything. It was too much for him sometimes, Blaine knew, so he usually tried to help when he could and stay out of the way when he couldn't.

Blaine's eyes paused over Kurt's parted lips, delicate and sweet, that more often than not inexplicably tasted of raspberries though Kurt maintained that he didn't use lip balm, raspberry flavored or otherwise. Still though, those lips. Blaine had already spent an uncountable number of hours just kissing those lips, committing every dip and curve and swell of them to memory, though he'd never know enough.

Slightly pointed elfin ears melted down Kurt's jaw line to a long beautiful neck that served as one of Blaine's greatest weaknesses, a close contender to Kurt's shoulders. Pronounced collar bones left dips of sensitive skin that Blaine loved to lap his tongue into, bite into, suck marks into that would leave Kurt muttering breathlessly about scarves and the cut of his shirt collars.

Sweet, quarter-sized nipples, the color of Kurt's kiss-swollen lips stood out against the otherwise pale, unmarred flesh of Kurt's chest. Blaine liked that Kurt didn't have that much hair.

He wished he himself weren't covered quite so much hair, though perhaps he wouldn't mind it so much if it weren't so dark. He'd mentioned waxing or shaving to Kurt once and Kurt assured Blaine that he loved the dark hair Blaine was so disdainful of. When Blaine hadn't truly believed his partner's affirmations, Kurt decided that actions might speak louder than words and showed Blaine how much he enjoyed Blaine's hair.

Kurt's arms were smooth and strong, stronger than they looked considering how small they were, but Blaine didn't forget the ease with which those arms had hefted him against the wall as Kurt rocked into him, Blaine's legs wrapped tight around his waist.

He loved the light spattering of hair that started just below his bellybutton and continued in a line past pale, jutting hipbones, where the hair grew thicker, but not darker, leading to a perfect cock, resting soft and heavy against Kurt's parted thighs.

Light, fine hair dusted over those thighs, and Blaine followed its trail over the elegant curve of Kurt's calves, the hair tapering off at Kurt's ankles. Blaine would never admit to having a foot fetish, and he didn't, not really, but Kurt…Kurt's feet were masterpieces. Perfectly proportionate to the rest of his body, strong and sure, they had carried him so far. From the smooth, tiled floors of a school filled with cruel students to the marbled steps of Dalton Academy and into Blaine's life, though more importantly, into Blaine's heart.

It struck Blaine sometimes, how disgustingly in love he was with Kurt; how no matter what happened, he knew they would get through it. They were for forever.

Kurt stirred next to Blaine, sleepy eyes blinking open slowly against the sun. Pale blue, with flecks of green and a dark navy rim around the edges—Blaine was fairly certain they were his favorite feature of Kurt's and not something he could see while Kurt slept. So much emotion rested in those eyes and they were sometimes the only way Blaine could tell if Kurt was being brutally honest or only brutally sarcastic.

Kurt gazed up at Blaine where he lay on his side, curly head rested on his hand, propped up by an elbow.

"Morning," Blaine whispered, not quite wanting to break the spell of Kurt's slumber. He lifted a hand, slipping it through Kurt's hair. Kurt leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed a little.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Kurt yawned, full-bodied; back arching a little off the bed, the movement rolling down his body curling his toes.

"Us being together forever," Blaine admitted. Kurt smiled, soft and sleepy.

"Think we'll make it that long?"

"Definitely," Blaine replied, not a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Good thing we got married then," Kurt joked, left hand sliding over Blaine's hip.

"Good thing," Blaine agreed, peering down at the hand and the simple silver band on its ring finger. Blaine thought Kurt might have wanted something a little more elaborate, but Kurt had explained that he wanted something that would go with everything, no matter the season or the year.

Forever was a long time to wear the same piece of jewelry, Kurt had told him, so he had to make sure it was timeless and Blaine couldn't argue with that.