AN: Hi there, lovelies. This smutty one-shot is the brainchild of a PM conversation between me and aneloquenpuzzle, who is the epitome of awesomeness. I sent her a link (see below, take out spaces) from America's Got Talent of a male pole dancer because, well, it was beyond hot. She responded by bringing the conversation back to Chris Colfer (as it always should be) and after much gasping and flailing and lusty mooning over pictures of Chris hanging upside down from various poles and jungle gyms, we decided it would be a boon to humanity if I combined two great ideas into one. So, here you go. We decided that Klaine worked better for this than my usual RPF, and of course this couldn't take place in any episode besides Sexy. There was also discussion of me writing two one-shots on this idea, one where Blaine is the initiator of sexytimes, and one where Kurt is. This is the Blaine one. If you like the idea and want to see the Kurt one, review because this took a lot out of me (and was written VERY quickly) and I don't know if I want to write the other if you guys are all like, 'Meh, boring smut is boring.'

I kind of truncated the dancing, because as awesome as it is to watch, it was kind of boring to recap. Just take a look. The first pole split is the money one.

www. youtube. com / watch?v=JRXCgDK_wZo

Obviously, I don't own the amazing Steve, but I'd love to hire him for a party. I also don't own Glee, CC, DC, Kurt or Blaine, the North Pole, the Mets, the patent on Viagra or any ducks. Sad.

PS. I hate Piers Morgan. No, really. Telling the amazing Steve that he should cover it up! Hypocritical, homophobic twat. Pillock. Codger. Plonker. Blighter. Prat. Berk. Hee!

This was such a good idea! squealed Kurt in his head as he slowly twisted his body around and upwards, curling his legs into the top of the pole. He could feel the burn in his arms and in his abs as he held his position. He watched the video out of the corner of his eye as the instructor demonstrated a mid air split. He reached down with one hand and pressed pause before he executed the maneuver. His arms were beginning to tremble as he slowly lowered his legs to either side of his torso. Such a good workout, he though blissfully as his entire body began to quiver with tension. He was so engrossed in the way his body was wrapped around the pole that he didn't hear the door opening, nor did he hear the sudden intake of breath followed by a muffled whimper.


Today was a normal day for Blaine. He had a song running around in his head, and he was focused enough on it that he wasn't really paying much attention to the world around him. He was so used to this being his mental state, however, that he was able to politely shake Carole's hand when he answered the door and to ask where Kurt was without his internal melody skipping a beat. Carole muttered something about Kurt exercising in the garage, and something else about him asking not to be disturbed that Blaine blithely disregarded. He assured Carole that Kurt wouldn't mind if he interrupted, in his most dapper fashion, of course – because Kurt never minded if Blaine interrupted what he was doing; they were best friends! – and then he pranced through the kitchen, pausing to execute a little two step as the song in his head swelled, before making his way through the breezeway to the garage. Kurt was going to be so excited about this song, Blaine just knew it, because he – he…GUH!

Blaine stopped, a shock running through his entire body at the sight in front of him. Kurt was dangling upside down from a stripper pole with his legs in a wide, perfect split. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of very tight, black bicycle shorts, and the muscles in his back and arms were jumping from the exertion of holding himself still. A small bead of sweat was trickling down his back towards his shoulders, and as it succumbed to gravity and fell to the floor, Blaine heard himself whimper. What is going on? his brain screamed at him frantically. He just shook his head in response, his hand flying up to his mouth to stop any more sounds from escaping. He was mesmerized by the sight before him, but then Kurt reached down with one hand and grabbed a remote control, and suddenly a high, cheery, enthusiastic voice filled the garage. "Alright girls, now we're going to try something a little bit harder!" Then Kurt was lowering his body so that his torso was perpendicular to the pole while his legs were still stretched out to the sides in a seemingly impossible angle. Blaine couldn't help it; even through his hand his stuttered, "K-Kurt! What?" was loud enough that Kurt finally noticed he wasn't alone. Kurt let out an undignified squeak and quickly, yet gracefully, wound his body around so that it was right side up again and let go of the pole. He spun around to face Blaine as his feet hit the ground, and Blaine had to shut his eyes momentarily to keep his sanity intact. Kurt's chest and arms were gleaming with sweat and his tiny shorts left nothing – nothing! – to the imagination.

"Blaine! What are you doing here?" Kurt yelped as he rushed to the corner of the garage. Blaine watched avidly as he shrugged his shoulders into a demure, silk wrap that did little to hide his body, especially considering how it gaped in the front as he belted it shut across his waist. Blaine found himself fascinated with the way that the material clung to Kurt's sweaty chest.

"Blaine? Blaine! Hello! Earth to Blaine!" Blaine shuddered, tearing his mind away from the image of himself ripping that thin silk from Kurt's body and licking the sweat from every inch of his flawless skin.

"What?" he stammered in a woefully inadequate approximation of his usual polite, restrained voice.

"What do you mean, 'what'?" huffed Kurt, crossing his arms across his chest. "I asked what you were doing here. Are you okay? You look kinda pale."

"I…I'm fine," managed Blaine weakly, his eyes lingering on the way the material bunched and clung to Kurt's shoulders. His incredibly sleek, well-defined shoulders. Blaine shuddered again and tried in vain to collect himself.

"If you say so," muttered Kurt. "Why are you here early? We weren't supposed to get coffee for another two hours."

"I…I had…" Blaine's mind was utterly blank. Why was he here early? Something about a song? Whatever. That was so not important right now. "What…what is…I mean, what are you doing?" he babbled.

"Exercising, obviously," Kurt replied a bit waspishly.

"That's exercise?" gasped Blaine.

"Oh yes!" said Kurt, suddenly enthusiastic. "It's so great! And I've almost got the entire routine down! It's so much fun! I saw it on TV and I just had to try it! It's an amazing workout! I've been doing it for a while now, and I thought I would get bored like I always do with these DVDs, but I haven't. It's just so hard!"

Blaine couldn't help it; his eyes flickered down to Kurt's crotch when the word 'hard' exploded from Kurt's lips. He groaned and closed his eyes again as another wave of images assaulted his brain. He wanted to rip those little shorts off Kurt, press him into a wall and show him what 'hard' was. God! Keep it together, Blaine! Kurt has no idea what he's doing to you; he has no idea how fuckable he looks right now! Innocent, baby penguin Kurt! Blaine breathed deeply through his nose. You cannot do this, Blaine Anderson. Carole is in the kitchen. You cannot attack her stepson when she is less than twenty feet away. Then a sly, stray thought wandered through his head: And if she wasn't here? If the two of you were alone? Could you, then? Blaine twitched slightly. Oh god, yes. It was like a switch went off in his brain; dapper, gentlemanly Blaine was no more. He could work with this; he could use this to show Kurt how sexy he was. If he managed to get him naked and writhing underneath him in the process, well, that was just a bonus. Blaine suddenly felt calm, even though the blood was still pounding rapidly through his veins. His mind wandered back to what Kurt had just said, searching for something he could use.

"There's a routine?"

"Yeah," replied Kurt just as enthusiastically, not having noticed the change in Blaine's demeanor. "The DVD is broken down into sections, and then at the end, you put them all together! I'm on the last one; it's the most difficult, but once I've mastered it, I can do the whole thing!" Kurt was so excited by this prospect that he jumped up and down a little, clapping his hands.

Blaine smiled at him, hoping it came across as encouraging instead of feral, and said, "I'd love to see that. I could give you pointers; tell you if you're doing it right. You don't have any mirrors in here."

"R-really?" asked Kurt, sounding suddenly uncertain. Then he seemed to have a thought that chased all the uncertainty away. "Oh my goodness! I could come up with an outfit and everything!" He clapped again, totally distracted by the thought, and didn't notice how Blaine was grinding his teeth through his smile.

Outfits. Blaine knew he was being predatory, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had to get Kurt alone, dressed in as little as possible, his legs wrapped around that poll and then eventually wrapped around him. He searched through his mind. He knew Kurt's schedule, of course, since they spent almost every waking moment together, but he had also picked up tidbits of information about when his parents would not be at home. He had never really had a use for this information before, and he didn't really know why his brain always retained such things, but at the moment he was grateful. Burt and Carole's four month anniversary was coming up this weekend, and Blaine knew they'd be going out. He had to tread carefully, though. He didn't want Kurt to suspect anything beforehand.

"Do you think you'll have it down by this Friday? Because I'm kinda busy the rest of the weekend," he said in the most innocent voice he could muster, making his eyes soft as he gazed at Kurt.

"Oh, um," said Kurt, uncertainty creeping into his voice again. "I guess so. I mean, I'll have the routine down, and the outfit shouldn't take much to put together, but…"

"But?" asked Blaine encouragingly, pushing down his sudden fear that Kurt would back out.

"Are you really sure you want to watch it? I mean, it's just a silly dance routine. It could be a bit boring." Blaine could tell that Kurt was retreating into the strange shyness he sometimes exhibited around Blaine. He couldn't let that happen.

"I'm sure you'll make it interesting. That's what the outfit is for, right? Plus" – and here Blaine congratulated himself on his genius; Kurt loved to perform – "I can tell you if it's good enough for Dalton's annual talent show."

"Dalton has a talent show?"

"Yes," said Blaine placidly, secretly promising himself that he would never let Kurt perform his 'dance' in front of anyone else. He felt a sudden surge of possessiveness. Kurt was his, and he'd make him understand that soon enough.

"Oh! That's so exciting!" chirped Kurt. Then he suddenly yelped, "Glitter!"

"Huh?"

"Sorry, my mind's still occupied with the outfit. It's going to be so amazing! But I'm not going to tell you anything else; you'll see it on Friday." Kurt hummed happily and skipped over to the DVD player, which was on the floor. He bent over to eject the DVD and Blaine had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from rushing up behind him, grabbing his hips and grinding into his ass. Patience, he screamed internally.

"I'll just go get changed and we can go out for coffee, okay?" chirped Kurt as he straightened up and put the DVD in its case. "Do you mind waiting while I shower?"

"Not at all," said Blaine in his most dapper voice, while inside his head rioted images of Kurt with water streaming down his naked body. Friday seemed like it was ages away.


Blaine was sitting in his car, tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. He was parked about a block away from Kurt's house, just close enough to be able to see the driveway. He had told Kurt he'd be over some time around seven because he figured that his parents would already be gone by then, but here it was, almost seven thirty, and Burt's truck was still in the driveway. Luckily, Finn's car was nowhere to be seen – he hadn't even thought of that; he was too worried about avoiding Kurt's parents, but he was glad that Finn seemed to have Friday night plans. He gritted his teeth in frustration, staring at the truck and willing Burt and Carole to come out of the house. He didn't trust himself in front of Burt; the man seemed to have this magical ability to sense when Blaine was being less than forthright, and right now he was feeling downright devious. They had to leave soon. They had to! Blaine banged his head against the steering wheel a few times. Suddenly, he noticed movement, and he hunched down in his seat, just peering over the steering wheel. Finally. Burt and Carole strolled towards the truck, trailed by Kurt, who seemed to be chattering happily to his father. Burt turned as he reached the drivers-side door and rested one hand on Kurt's shoulder. He said something to Kurt, and even from a block away Blaine could see the frown on his face. Kurt just nodded in reply and beamed up at his father. Blaine felt a momentary pang at how innocent and happy Kurt seemed, but he suppressed it. He had plans.

Burt got into the truck, where Carole was already sitting, and before Blaine knew it, they were gone and Kurt had disappeared back inside. He considered waiting a few minutes so his arrival didn't seem suspiciously well-timed, but a wave of frustration and longing swept over his body and he violently turned the keys in the ignition, swung out of his parking space and gunned the engine. He pulled into Kurt's driveway, his tires screeching, slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car. But then he forced himself to calm down and walk to the front door at a normal pace. He couldn't afford to scare Kurt off by acting like a madman, regardless of how tenuous his grasp on his sanity felt at the moment.

He knocked and almost instantly the door swung open. "Blaine! You're late. You just missed my parents."

"Oh?" replied Blaine casually as he strolled past Kurt, brushing his shoulder lightly with his own.

"Yeah. My dad…um…he, well, I guess he wanted to talk to you about something?" said Kurt, his voice a little unsteady.

"What about?" Blaine asked as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Kurt blushed suddenly. "Oh, well. He thought…it's silly…hethoughtthiswasadate," Kurt stammered hurriedly. "I told him it wasn't, and that we're just friends, and that you were just coming over to help me out, but he…he still wanted to talk to you."

Blaine silently thanked his foresight. "Didn't you tell him what our plans were?" he asked in an innocent voice, wondering if he should worry about Burt suddenly coming back armed with a shotgun.

"Of course," said Kurt, and Blaine's heart practically beat out of his chest. There was no way Burt would think this was innocent. "I told him you were helping me out with a dance routine."

"Does he…" Blaine had no idea how to word this without coming off as the creeper he undoubtedly was. "Does he know what kind of dance routine?" he finished, cringing slightly. Too soon. Kurt couldn't know there was anything special about his routine until he was well into it with Blaine's hands all over him.

"No," said Kurt, frowning slightly. "He's not really interested in that kind of stuff. Why?"

"No reason," said Blaine airily, walking away from Kurt to derail the conversation. "So, are you ready?"

"Well, not really. I have to get changed and put my makeup on, and I kinda need your help with that."

Blaine's heart skipped again. "Why do you need help? You're a master makeup artist."

"Oh, I can do my face and the front of my body, but I need you to help with the back. I tried it yesterday and I just got glitter all over the place," said Kurt, once more enthusiastic. Blaine lost himself in the image of his hands on Kurt's back, brushing lightly as he applied glitter to that luminous skin. This was going so well. He gave himself a mental high five followed by a slap to snap out of it, and then he followed Kurt, who was walking up the stairs to his bedroom.

Once there, he almost bumped into Kurt, who was standing just inside the doorway wringing his hands nervously. "You okay?" he asked in his most gentle voice.

"Yeah." Kurt shrugged diffidently. "I just….promise you won't laugh, okay?"

"I would never laugh at you, Kurt. I'm sure your outfit will be wonderful," said Blaine reassuringly, risking contact to pat Kurt on his shoulder. His hand felt like it had been electrocuted.

"It's just…you did laugh a little bit, the other day…when we were doing the, um, faces…in the mirror?" Kurt sounded so unsure of himself that Blaine cringed, mentally facepalming at his own stupidity. He also noted, in passing, that Kurt had definitely connected that day to this one. For all his innocence, he was aware of the nature of what he was about to do. Just so long as he thought that Blaine was still firmly ensconced in his mentorship role, that would be just fine. It would add a little bit of frisson until the moment Kurt realized how very far Blaine had strayed from being a mentor.

"I'm really sorry about that, Kurt. But I promise you, I won't laugh at you now. I'm very excited to see your routine," he said, smiling winningly and just a tad condescendingly. God, he just realized how much of a jerk he was when he was being mentor Blaine. Well, that would be over after today.

"Okay," said Kurt, his eyes shining with trust. "Um, I'm going to go change into the shorts and then we can do my makeup."

Blaine perched on Kurt's bed and watched as Kurt grabbed what seemed to be silver lame short shorts and disappeared into the bathroom. His breath stuttered in his chest at the thought of Kurt emerging from the bathroom clad only in that miniscule amount of fabric, but he forced himself to calm down. He had to wait. But why? whined his hormones. Screw the plan; we can just invade his personal space as soon as he comes out. That'll work! No, no it wouldn't, because Kurt would freak out and flee back into the bathroom and cover up all that delicious skin with the ridiculous layers he always wore. No, he had to be patient; he had to time his touches just right so they seemed natural, but so they turned Kurt on. Blaine compared it to taming a skittish horse in his head: if Kurt got startled, he would buck and Blaine would be thrown off. Then he got distracted by the image of Kurt bucking underneath him as he rode him hard, holding on for dear life. Focus, Blaine.

The door to the bathroom opened tentatively – and just how did Kurt manage to open a door tentatively? – and Kurt emerged, naked except for a strip of silver, shiny cloth that covered him from his lower belly to the tops of his thighs. Blaine forced himself to breath regularly, and he smiled slightly, encouragingly. "Lovely," he grinned. "Shiny." Maybe he wasn't as collected as he thought if all he could come out with were single words. Sentences, Blaine, sentences!

Kurt shuffled over to his vanity, obviously feeling extremely awkward. That wouldn't do. "Did you make those yourself?" asked Blaine.

"I did," he said, excited once again, his awkwardness disappearing like it had never been. "I had some problems with the zipper, and I think they're a little tight, but I can fix that if I actually perform in the talent show. You don't think they're a bit much?"

Blaine choked down his raging jealousy at the thought of anyone else seeing Kurt dressed in those shorts, and lied, "No, of course they aren't. And I don't think they're too tight, either. You did a great job!" Cheerleader Blaine, here to support anything you do, that's me right now. Yup. He walked over to Kurt's vanity and sat next to him on the bench. "So. Makeup. You're going to have to show me what to do."

Kurt nodded. "I'll show you on my front, and then you can do my back while I work on my face. It's not that complicated. It basically involves glittery shadow and then some adhesive – don't worry, it's organic – and a liberal application of more glitter. I want the pattern to look like this." Kurt was tracing swirling patterns over his chest with his forefinger. Blaine followed avidly with his eyes, hoping his mouth was closed. "Try not to spill any of the glitter. It's hell to get out of the carpet."

Blaine stared as Kurt brushed shadow over his chest and stomach, rubbing it to blend it with the lines of his lightly defined muscles. Then he applied the adhesive to strategic points along his chest in a sort of upsweeping, swirling pattern and carefully began pressing the glitter into his skin with one hand, holding the other below it to catch any stray glitter. Blaine was cheering lustily in his head – there were so many intrinsic chances for caresses in this makeup application. "Do you think you can do that on my back?" asked Kurt when he was done. The whole process had taken about twenty minutes.

"Of course," replied Blaine. "I may not do it quite as well as you, but I'll manage."

And then it was time. Time to put his hands on Kurt. Gentle at first, Blaine! Let him get used to you. Blaine couldn't repress a shiver as he picked up the brush and shadow. Kurt, who was leaning away from him into the mirror as he lined his eyes with silver, noticed and raised an eyebrow. "Cold," stammered Blaine. "It's cold in here."

"Really? I'm practically naked and I'm quite warm," said Kurt doubtfully, a slow blush spreading across his cheeks.

Blaine held his eyes through the mirror and placed his hand lightly on Kurt's lower back. "Maybe I'm coming down with something." Kurt twitched slightly at the touch, so Blaine smiled gently and broke eye contact, focusing instead on the brush in his hand. He began applying the shadow in languid strokes, pausing every once in a while to blend the edges with his forefinger and thumb, dragging them surely over Kurt's skin. His hands and the brush traveled lower, until he was dangerously close to the region where Kurt's back met his ass. The silver shorts were being dragged down slightly by the position Kurt was sitting in, and Blaine could just make out the top of the cleft in his ass. He couldn't help it: first brush and then forefinger dipped down into that cleft, just slightly, and he heard a catch in Kurt's breathing. He continued brushing shadow onto Kurt's lower back, as if unaware of what he had just done. After a few moments, he risked a glance up into the mirror and found Kurt staring at him, lip liner pencil held motionless in his hand, his mouth slightly open. Blaine smiled reassuringly and returned his gaze to Kurt's back. Still brushing and blending, he said, "Why'd you stop doing your makeup, Kurt? I'm going to be done before you at this rate." He was proud of how smooth and unconcerned his voice sounded, but he punctuated it by dragging his palm up Kurt's side, squeezing gently as he blended in the shadow he'd just brushed there. Kurt's breathing increased pace slightly; he wasn't quite panting yet, which was good, because that would be too soon, but he was definitely struggling to remain calm. Blaine forced himself not to smirk, sure that Kurt's eyes were still on him.

"Time for the glitter," said Blaine, letting satisfaction seep into his voice. "I have to say, I'm quite proud of the job I'm doing so far. What do you think?"

Kurt carefully put the lip liner down on his vanity and turned so he could see his back in one of the side mirrors. "I think you're doing a wonderful job," he replied, and Blaine was pleased to hear a bit of breathy awe in his tone.

"Won't this all come off when you sweat?" asked Blaine as he reached for the adhesive.

"It shouldn't," said Kurt. "The shadow's lightly waterproof, and the adhesive has to be taken off with alcohol."

"You're going to let alcohol touch your skin?" asked Blaine, genuinely shocked.

Kurt smiled lightly, and said, "These are the sacrifices we make to perform." He sighed dramatically, then added, "Don't worry. I'll moisturize furiously to make up for it."

"Good. It would be a shame to harm your skin in any way. It's so beautiful." Blaine said this nonchalantly as he swiped the adhesive over Kurt's back in the swirling pattern Kurt had shown him. He didn't need to look up to know that Kurt was once again staring at him. "Your face, Kurt," he reminded gently. Kurt jumped slightly and began working on his face once more.

When Blaine was finished applying the adhesive, he began pressing glitter into Kurt's skin, making sure that his touches were firm and warm all over Kurt's back. He willed comfort and calm through his palms and fingertips, and he could practically feel Kurt melting into the caresses. When he had covered all the adhesive in glitter he began to blow lightly along Kurt's back, tracing the patterns of glitter with his breath. "Blaine?" Kurt's voice was shaky. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to dry the adhesive; it's still sticky," replied Blaine calmly and then he resumed his blowing, inching his face closer to Kurt's back.

"Blaine, it's…it's a gel adhesive. It will never fully dry. So…you don't have to do that."

"Oh, okay." Blaine let the disappointment shine out clear in his voice. Then he reached out and brushed his hand lightly down Kurt's back, all the way from the back of his neck to the cleft in his ass. "It feels like scales. It's amazing," he said breathlessly, his hand still resting on Kurt's lower back. "Well, I'm done. Do you need any help with your face?" He made his voice suddenly brisk and businesslike. Hopefully all this switching around would keep Kurt off balance. He'd question less then.

"No, I'm almost done."

Blaine watched as Kurt put the final touches on his face. All his makeup was in various shades of silver, and the metallic sheen highlighted the angularity of Kurt's features while the overall effect was soft and luminous.

"There. What do you think?" asked Kurt shyly, turning towards Blaine for inspection.

Blaine let his eyes wander over Kurt's face, traveling all the angles of his jaw and cheekbones to rest at his lips for a few moments. As soon as Kurt began to blush self-consciously, Blaine lifted his gaze from Kurt's mouth to his eyes and simply said, "Beautiful." Then he practically leapt up from the bench and began rubbing his palms together briskly. "Ready?"

Kurt just gaped at him for a few moments, which Blaine pretended not to notice, and then he visibly shook himself, got up from the bench and walked over to his closet. "Not quite," he finally said. Blaine frowned, wondering what he meant, but he was answered when Kurt emerged from his closet carrying a pair of what could only be called stripper shoes. The heels were at least six inches high and there was a platform of about two inches under each toe, and they had delicate straps that would wind round Kurt's ankles. Oddly enough, they were black. Blaine picked his brain up off the floor long enough to wonder at that; he would have thought Kurt would go for silver to match the rest of him. But as his eyes kept being drawn to the shoes, he suddenly realized why. They contrasted with the silver enough to be a constant shock, a draw to the eyes, a reminder of what exactly Kurt would be doing soon. They announced the tawdry, sleazy nature of the pole dance, in contrast to the shimmering beauty of his body.

"Like them?" asked Kurt, and Blaine thought he could detect a bit of self-satisfied snark in his voice.

"Very much," he replied breathlessly, not caring at this point to keep up his game.

"Let's go down to the garage. I don't want to put them on up here; I might fall down the steps," said Kurt, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke. He strode past Blaine to the door and down the stairs. All Blaine could do was follow.

When he got to the garage, Kurt was standing in the middle of it, shoes still clutched in his hands, looking around as if trying to find a place to perch. When he saw Blaine, he smiled widely and said, "Everything in here is so dusty. I don't want to ruin my shorts. Do you mind if I use your shoulder for support while I put these on?"

Blaine nodded mutely. Kurt slinked over to him. "Here, hold this." He put one of the shoes in Blaine's hand and placed his right hand lightly on Blaine's shoulder, raising his left foot up behind him and leaning into Blaine's chest. He tugged the shoe onto his foot, securing it behind his ankle by the strap, and placed it daintily back onto the ground. Then he placed his other hand on Blaine's shoulder and wobbled slightly as he tugged the second shoe from Blaine's grasp. Blaine couldn't help it – as soon as his hand was free, he reached up and clasped both of Kurt's shoulders. "Steady," he breathed, his face only a few inches from Kurt's. Kurt smiled and looked into his eyes, not bothering to watch what he was doing as he tugged the other shoe on. Once it had joined the other on the floor, he pushed lightly away from Blaine's shoulders and said, "Will you fasten them for me?"

Blaine was on his knees in an instant, almost unaware that his hands had grazed the entirety of Kurt's body on the way down. He fumbled at the first strap, and asked, "How tight?"

"As tight as you can make them. I don't want to break my ankles," replied Kurt, whose hands had returned to Blaine's shoulders. Blaine fastened first one then the other, and when he was done he rested his hands on the tops of Kurt's feet, unconsciously rubbing circles along the insides of Kurt's ankles with his thumbs. He felt Kurt squeeze his shoulders, and he looked up. Oh god, what a view! His eyes caught on the front of Kurt's tiny silver shorts, which were significantly tighter than they had been a few minutes ago. All he wanted to do was to bury his head in them, to nuzzle along that increasingly obvious length, but he refrained. Soon. Very, very soon, he promised himself.

"If you want me to dance, you're going to have to let go of my ankles," said Kurt, his voice slightly husky. Oh yes, very soon.

Blaine released him and rocked back on his ankles, smiling in what he hoped was a charming manner and gesturing with his hand. "Please," he said politely with just the smallest hint of desperation.

Kurt turned away from him and walked over to the pole. He placed one hand on it and turned back to face Blaine. "I'll run through the routine once quickly, so you can see it, and then we'll go through it more slowly so you can give me pointers, okay?"

"Sounds good. Um, where should I stand?"

"Over there," said Kurt, pointing to a spot directly in front of the pole. "You should get the best view from there."

Kurt took a breath, leaned down and pressed play on a stereo Blaine hadn't noticed before. The sound of Katy Perry's E.T. poured out, and Blaine raised an eyebrow. Kurt waited a few beats and then began strutting angularly towards the pole. He reached out with one hand and swung himself around to the other side, his free hand joining the other on the pole as he rolled his body upwards like he was humping the pole. He released one hand and spun around the pole a few more times, his hands and hips jutting out shamelessly. Then he spun himself around again, and suddenly he flew up into the air with his ankles attached to the bottom of the pole, still spinning. He reached up and dragged himself further up the pole, raising his legs and grasping the pole between his thighs as he spun, perpendicular to the floor. He broke that pose and spun a bit faster, gaining momentum as he leaned back and let go of the pole with his legs, which he spread wide in a split that he held as his spin slowly lost speed. His spin came to a halt, and he held that pose for a few moments, his hands grasping the pole between his outstretched legs, his back arched down and away from the pole, his hair falling away from his forehead due to gravity. Blaine's eyes traveled his entire body, and when they reached his face, Kurt smirked and released the pose, rising up to press his entire body into the pole. He turned around, arching his back into the pole, spinning once more. Then he dropped suddenly to the ground, landing in a perfect split. Blaine gasped. Kurt wiggled out of the split and began crawling towards Blaine, slinking his body down against the ground with each forward movement. He stopped about a foot from Blaine and suddenly popped up to his feet, his arms held wide.

"Ta-da! What do you think?" he said, breathing heavily and beaming.

"Guh," replied Blaine. Then he panicked slightly and started babbling. "That was good, very good. I never knew you were that flexible. I mean, athletic. It was very, very athletic. And good. Did I mention good? Are you going to do it again?"

"Of course, silly," said Kurt. "I need you to give me pointers. Telling me it's 'good' doesn't help me improve, you know."

"Right," said Blaine, trying to regain control. "Um, maybe this time slower, and without the music, so I can, um, stop you and show you how to, ah, do it better?" Who was Blaine kidding? It was perfect already.

"Okay," said Kurt brightly, and then he skipped back over to the pole. Blaine had no idea how he managed to skip in those shoes, but he did. It was incredibly hot. Kurt took up his initial position again and began slowly spinning around the pole. Blaine stepped inside the circle of his spin and caught him by the hips, freezing him in place.

"I think," he said gruffly, trying not to hook his fingers beneath Kurt's shorts, "that here, you should hold your body straighter, make more of a line." As he said this last, he dragged his hand away from Kurt's hip, smoothing it up his side and then down his thigh as far as he could reach. "Like this." Surprisingly, Kurt actually followed the motion with his body and imperceptibly straightened out his body. Blaine stepped away from him and gestured with his hand, "Continue."

Kurt spun, sashayed a bit, spun again, and then reached forward with both hands to grab the pole. He began rolling his body up and inward towards the pole. "Okay, stop again," interrupted Blaine. He went to stand behind Kurt. "You need to make this motion smoother," he breathed into Kurt's ear, bringing his body flush with Kurt's and rolling their hips together. Once again, Kurt took his suggestion and made a slight adjustment to his movement, but this time Blaine wasn't so quick to leave his personal space. He continued to roll his hips with Kurt's, his erection pressed tight against Kurt's ass. "That's very good, Kurt," he whispered, "but hold still for a second so I can show you what I mean." Kurt stopped moving, but Blaine didn't. He kept grinding slowly into Kurt's ass, his hands gripping his hips tightly to keep him from moving. "Do you understand yet?" he growled, increasing the pace and force of his thrusts.

"Y-yes, Blaine!" mewled Kurt. His knuckles were turning white from gripping the pole so hard.

Blaine released his hips and stepped backwards. "Keep going," he commanded.

Shaking like a newborn colt, Kurt began slowly spinning around the pole again. Eventually, he leapt up, crossing his ankles beneath him around the pole, then shifting so that the pole was between his thighs and he was spinning perpendicular to the ground, one hand holding the pole and the other stretched out. Blaine caught the hand and stopped his spin. "You need to be more fluid here. You seem tight." Blaine ran his hands down Kurt's arm to his chest, massaging circles into Kurt's skin. He reached down further, brushing his hand lightly across Kurt's very obvious erection then dragging his hands back to Kurt's ass. "Relax," he said. Yet again, Kurt followed his instructions; Blaine could feel the nervous tension slipping away from him, leaving only the sexual in its wake. Blaine found Kurt's eyes and nodded. "Very good, Kurt. Go on, then."

Kurt began spinning again, pulling himself up so that his legs were on the opposite side of the pole to his chest. He leaned backwards and spread his legs wide. Blaine hooked his hand to one of Kurt's legs as it passed him, stopping his spin. "Can you hold this pose, Kurt?" he asked gently. Kurt nodded, but his arms were already shaking. "If it gets to be too much, let me know, okay?" Kurt nodded again. Blaine walked around his body, suspended upside-down in such a wonderful position at about chest height for Blaine. He placed one hand on Kurt's left calf and began dragging it slowly up towards his thigh. "Let's see if we can't make this split a bit wider," he purred, pressing both hands firmly into Kurt's inner thighs and pushing outwards. Kurt whimpered and Blaine stepped in closer to his body so he could look down past the pole at Kurt's upside-down face on the other side. He massaged down Kurt's thighs towards his knees. "Bend these for me, will you?" suggested Blaine. Kurt complied, his ankles swinging around together behind Blaine's back. Blaine kept one hand on Kurt's right thigh, but he dragged the other so it was resting under Kurt's lower back. Then he slowly moved the hand on Kurt's thigh until it was resting on the front of Kurt's silver shorts. He squeezed and Kurt's entire body jerked.

"Blaine!" he wailed. "I'm gonna fall!"

"I've got you," said Blaine, winding one arm all the way around Kurt's waist. "You can squeeze tighter with your legs, if you want." Then he slipped his hand down the front of Kurt's shorts and grasped him firmly. Kurt's legs convulsively tightened around Blaine's chest, and his shoulders came up as he struggled to get closer to Blaine. Suddenly, his hands slipped from the pole and he slid a bit down Blaine's body until he was cradled just above Blaine's waist. Blaine kept his arm steady around Kurt's waist, drawing him away from the pole. "We don't really need that anymore, do we, Kurt?" Kurt just looked at him without comprehension, his mouth open and gasps issuing from it in concert with the steady strokes Blaine was administering to his cock. Blaine shifted his hips slightly, distributing Kurt's weight, and then he walked him over to one of the walls. He picked the cleanest space he could find and leaned Kurt's shoulders against it. Once he had some of Kurt's weight against the wall, he sped up his efforts on Kurt's erection, jerking swiftly and surely and watching Kurt's face for reaction. Kurt leaned his head back against the wall and began making almost pitiful mewling noises from his wide open mouth. His heels were digging into Blaine's lower back, and he began bucking up and down into Blaine's hand, which had the simultaneous effect of rubbing his ass into Blaine's crotch in a particularly violent manner. Not that Blaine was complaining. He forced himself to keep his eyes open even though he wanted to close them and revel in the sensation of Kurt rubbing up against him; he needed to see Kurt come. He needed to see that this was okay, that Kurt was enjoying this. With a final practically mournful little whimper, Kurt was coming, spilling strongly all over Blaine's hand and his own silver stomach. As soon as he was sure Kurt was done, Blaine surged forward, pressing his lips passionately against Kurt's open mouth. He tried to put as much of himself into the kiss as he could, and he thanked the deities of every major world religion when, after a few moments of heavy breathing, Kurt responded to Blaine's kiss with a fervor that surpassed his.

Blaine groaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around Kurt. Then one of his hands traveled to Kurt's stomach, picking up a bit of the moisture there and sliding it over his fingers. He inched his hand to Kurt's lower back, slipping quickly below his shorts to swipe at Kurt's hole, which was so amazingly accessible in this position. Kurt squeaked slightly as Blaine pressed his finger past the first ring of muscle, and Blaine paused, giving him a chance to object. When nothing was forthcoming from Kurt except for more impassioned kissing, Blaine slid the finger in further, crooking and twisting as he searched for Kurt's prostate. He knew he'd found it when Kurt suddenly bit down hard on the lip he'd been sucking on. Blaine hissed and pulled back, tonguing his lips to see if he was bleeding. Kurt followed his motion forward with his head, eyes glazed as he mindlessly tried to reignite the kiss. Blaine chuckled lightly and twisted his finger again. Kurt gasped and panted, his breath hitting Blaine's face hard.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked darkly, twisting again. All Kurt could manage in response was a frantic nod and a moan. "Imagine how it will feel when I'm inside you, filling you up, pushing against this spot over and over, sliding in and out and through you." Kurt whined needily, and Blaine rewarded him by introducing another finger into his hole, stretching him furiously and almost clawing at his prostate. Kurt screamed, bucked upwards and came again, so hard that it hit Blaine in the chin.

"Oh my, you are eager, aren't you," said Blaine. "Lick it off," he commanded, jutting his chin towards Kurt's mouth. Kurt surged forward, mouthing messily at Blaine's chin, making obscene slurping noises as he gasped in breath around his own semen. "How's this for a touch of the fingertips, Kurt?" asked Blaine, twisting again and roughly adding a third finger. "Better than you ever thought, right?" He pressed down hard on Kurt's prostate, and Kurt keened in response, clawing at his shoulders frantically. Blaine pumped his fingers in and out of Kurt a few more times, feeling him loosen with every thrust. Then he stopped, his fingers sheathed in Kurt's ass, and said, "Tell me you want it, Kurt."

Kurt didn't respond; instead he shifted his hips, trying to fuck himself down on Blaine's fingers. Blaine grabbed his hip hard with his free hand, digging his fingers in and causing Kurt to yelp in pain and pause his frantic thrusting. "Tell me, Kurt," growled Blaine.

Kurt stared into Blaine's eyes, panting, and slowly a bit of intelligence slipped back into his lust-stupid gaze. "I…" He blushed and bit his lip.

Blaine shook his head. "That's no good, Kurt. You have to ask me. You have to beg me. You have to tell me you want me inside you. Tell me to fuck you, Kurt. No more hiding. No more bashfulness. I know you want me, but you have to say it, Kurt. Now."

"I do," muttered Kurt, his face now bright red.

"That's not good enough," said Blaine, and he slowly slid his fingers out of Kurt's ass. Kurt whimpered at the loss, his eyes clouding with confusion.

"Why?"

Blaine rested his now free hand on Kurt's hip and said, "Because otherwise all this is just me taking advantage of your innocence. But that's a lie, and we both know it. You want this. Tell me to fuck you, Kurt. Do it now or I'm leaving, and this" – here Blaine lifted up his hand and gestured between the two of them – "never happened."

Kurt stared at him for a moment more, searching his eyes – for what, Blaine didn't know. He just gazed back, determined. Kurt opened his mouth, took a deep steadying breath and then – "Fuck me."

Blaine surged forward yet again, pressing his mouth into Kurt's and thereby pressing Kurt fully into the wall. He reached back and tugged at Kurt's ankles. As Kurt released them and his legs began to lower to the floor, Blaine began attacking his neck with his mouth, biting and nipping and licking. And like a flood had been released, Kurt was muttering brokenly, "Oh, please fuck me, Blaine, please! I want you in me, I want you to pound at me. Fuck me so I can't walk, Blaine! Please! Oh god!" When Kurt's feet were both on the ground, Blaine wasted no time. He pulled Kurt away from the wall and walked him over to a table that held various garage-type detritus. He swept part of it clean and pushed Kurt against it, bending him over so that his ass was high in the air. Then he stopped, chuckled and said, "Well, shit."

"What? What are you waiting for? Blaine!" Kurt whined.

"We seem to have a bit of a height problem," said Blaine, still chuckling. "Those shoes of yours are too fucking tall."

Kurt looked down at his feet, then back at Blaine. Quick as a snake, he pushed back from the table, bent over, undid the shoes and kicked them off. Then he leaned forward on his elbows, looking back at Blaine expectantly.

"You don't really seem to need much help with those shoes, do you?" teased Blaine.

"I have exceptional balance," replied Kurt. "I just wanted to rub up against you earlier."

"Thought so."

"All this reminiscing is lovely, Blaine, but would you just hurry up and fuck me?" snapped Kurt.

Blaine grinned. He fished the lube and condom he'd brought out of his pocket and placed them on the table next to Kurt. Then he quickly shucked off his shoes, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled them down and off and tossed them away. As he was pulling his shirt over his head, Kurt said archly, "Commando, and you're prepared. Did you plan this, Mr. Anderson?"

"Down to the last detail," said Blaine as he grabbed Kurt's hips and rubbed his erection up against him. "Now shut up and let me fuck you."

Blaine grabbed the condom off the table and quickly opened it, sliding it down his erection. Then he took up the bottle of lube, smeared some on his fingers and on his cock, tossed it away and rammed three fingers back inside Kurt, just to make sure he was still open enough for him. "Oh!" yelped Kurt, shocked at the sudden intrusion. He quickly recovered and began pushing back, muttering, "Fuck, yes, Blaine, that is so good!" Blaine gave his fingers one last stretch and twist, pulled them out and then lined himself up with Kurt's entrance, slowly inching past the initial muscles into the tightness beyond. Kurt's words turned into high-pitched gasps of "Oh! Oh! Oh!" as Blaine bottomed out. Blaine reached forward and grabbed the back of Kurt's hair, pulling him up until his back was arched almost into Blaine's chest, his other hand firmly on Kurt's hip, and then he began thrusting, slowly at first, gaining speed as Kurt whined at the end of each thrust. Kurt's arms dangled uselessly in front of him, fists clenching each time Blaine hit his prostate. "Touch yourself, Kurt," commanded Blaine and Kurt's right hand flew to his erection, sloppily stroking over his entire length. Blaine sped up even more, his hips slapping into Kurt's ass with a satisfyingly wet, sweaty sound. Blaine could feel his own delayed orgasm approaching, but he wanted to hold off until Kurt's third. The boy had a seriously short recovery time, and Blaine intended to take full advantage of that boon. He felt the walls of Kurt's anus begin to constrict, so he pulled even harder on Kurt's hair, getting his shoulder within biting distance. He clamped down hard with his teeth as he sped up a final time, rutting furiously into Kurt's ass and screaming through his teeth into Kurt's skin as he came. He blacked out slightly and when he came to he had collapsed onto the semen-covered table on top of Kurt. He unwound his fingers from Kurt's hair, pressed a kiss to the livid bite mark on Kurt's shoulder and stepped back, sliding out of Kurt. Kurt slowly pushed himself up off the table, looking down at the mess he'd made. "Do you think my dad will notice that there's come all over his workbench?" he asked lazily.

"Probably," said Blaine. "Let's clean it up and then go upstairs. When do you think your parents will be home?"

"I don't know. Sometime around midnight. Why?"

"Because I want to go for round two, of course."

"Round four for me," replied Kurt cockily.

"Yes. I noticed. I actually want to see how high we can make that number in the limited time we have, so let's hurry it up, shall we?"

"So I'm a challenge now, am I?" said Kurt haughtily.

"No, you're my boyfriend. And I want to see you make your orgasm face as often as possible."

"Boyfriend?" Kurt suddenly sounded timid again.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Really, Kurt? I may have come over here with the intent to ravish you, but I didn't have a personality transplant. You're mine, and I'm yours. Do I need to show you again?"

"Yes, please!"


EDIT: Remember, my beauties, you have to tell me in your reviews if you want the Kurt as initiator version. I've gotten three reviews already and not a peep either way! Go Steve!