A/N: Due to a surprising and unexpected response to this little one shot, I've decided to indulge you (and myself) by writing another chapter. I really wanted to keep this being hot and sexy, but clearly I am incapable of not adding a touch of romance either. I can't promise that this will be a long story, I'll probably just write another chapter and then I'll perhaps write some spin offs based on this 'verse down the line, as I'm still working on "Canvas" and will be writing the sequel to that once it's finished. Anyway, I hope you like this continuation! Thanks for being amazing, tesori! :)

In the back of Blaine's mind, he knew that if word broke about him getting a hand job in an airplane bathroom by a sexy male flight attendant, it could potentially ruin his reputation as the face of the young business elite. But damn, Kurt had just blown his mind and that's all he could think about right now. Tucking his shirt back in and smoothing down his hair, he stole a glance in the mirror and willed his blushing cheeks to fade so he could return to his business class cubicle as inconspicuously as possible. Sighing, he slid open the door, and slipped out, before pulling back the curtain slowly. He kept his eyes glued to the red and navy patterned carpet along the aisle, avoiding the suspicious stares of his fellow business class passengers but, more importantly, keeping his eyes away from Kurt, who was chatting with a pretty female attendant near the door of the plane. He was afraid that just one look would send him straight to the bathroom again with his hand dug deep into the front of his trousers.

Reaching his seat, he loosened his tie completely and slipped it off before reclining his chair to be totally horizontal. He loved this particular perk of flying business class. With a groan, he laid down, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting him. He tried to convince himself that it was because of the lengthy flight but he knew this type of exhaustion. It was the type that came after being brought to a delicious orgasm. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself, still unbelieving that that beautiful man had pressed himself against Blaine's body and made him feel that good. And while most men would be reliving the image of someone's hand on his hard cock, Blaine couldn't help but focus on the feeling of Kurt's lips pressed against his. It was just a kiss, albeit a hot, fiery one, but it didn't mean anything. Kisses happen all the time between strangers, whether drunken or not. Blaine knew that from experience. But there was something about kissing Kurt that had caused something to shift in Blaine's mind. For a moment, Kurt had gone from being someone Blaine wanted to fuck to someone Blaine wanted to make love to. Once Kurt's hand had found his cock, the ability of coherent thought was lost to Blaine, but now in his silence, he could not forget that kiss. With a soft moan, Blaine allowed the exhaustion take over his body, his limbs falling limp and relaxing as he fell into a deep sleep.

Blaine was awoken abruptly. He snapped his eyes open and made to yell at the bastard who decided to shake his seat harshly when the voice of the captain rang out in the plane's cabin.

"Hi everyone. Just turning on the seatbelt sign again as we're going to be in a bit of rough turbulence for the next fifteen minutes or so. Nothing to worry about, just some nasty clouds, but I ask you return to your seats and buckle up and until we've passed them. Thanks."

With a groan, Blaine pressed the button that transformed his bed back into a seat and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dryness of his contact lenses. Grabbing his regulation-sized bottle of contact solution and glasses case, he lifted himself groggily from the seat and headed towards the bathroom, ignoring the request of the captain. A few of his fellow passengers gave him some not-so-kind looks but he ignored them, slipping into the bathroom once more. Turning on the tap, he splashed some cold water on his face before running his hands through his curls, thankful he hadn't decided to gel them down before leaving that morning. Removing his contacts next, he sighed in comfort as he slipped on his tortoise-shell glasses. The plane continued to rock and Blaine figured it would be a good idea to get back to his seat and perhaps start reading over the accounts for the Sydney office so he'd be familiar with the figures before his important meeting in a few days. Opening the door, he stepped out, just as the most violent of the turbulence hit, causing Blaine to lose his footing and fall over into someone who had just crossed the curtain.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir, I-,"

"No, no, please it was my, fau-… Kurt?"

"Aren't you supposed to be in your seat?" Kurt said with a stern voice, though the small smile at seeing Blaine in his glasses and fluffy, defined curls, took away from the force of his words.

Blaine looked up at him, and was surprised to discover that he felt…embarrassed? He was Blaine Anderson, People's Most Eligible Bachelor, the heir to the Anderson fortune, and here he was, unable to find anything to say to the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.

Kurt stood there, his arms crossed along his chest, waiting for Blaine to say something or continue to his seat, when Blaine's mouth was on his, kissing him tenderly. Kurt yelped in surprise and grabbed onto Blaine's shoulders harshly, every moral fiber in his body screaming to push him away, that he could be fired if someone saw. But he couldn't move. Blaine's mouth moved much more gently than their heated kiss in the lavatory and Kurt sighed as he opened his mouth, inviting Blaine to deepen the kiss. He did so slowly, the tip of his tongue barely touching Kurt's as he ran it gently along the curves of Kurt's lips. Blaine's hands framed his face, tilting it a bit to the side before he slipped his tongue into Kurt's mouth, tasting a faint hint of spearmint and something indeterminably sweet, something Blaine decided had to have been purely Kurt.

Kurt felt his legs go weak and pressed up against the wall of the narrow hall, the fear that any of his fellow attendants or a passenger could open the curtain at any minute completely burned away. He clutched at Blaine's shirt, fisting the fabric and moaning softly as Blaine's teeth ran long his bottom lip before tugging softly. He'd never been kissed with so much passion before in his life.

After what could've been two seconds or two lifetimes, Blaine pulled away, his heavy breath ghosting over Kurt's flushed face.

"I'd like to see you again," Blaine whispered, "after we land in Sydney."

Kurt opened his eyes, his heart still pounding deafeningly in his ears, louder than the dull rumble of the plane's engine. He knew what his answer should be. He'd heard and seen enough from his peers to know that relationships forged on airplanes could not last. He was the realistic one, the one that all the girls came to once they found out that the man they had fallen in love with was already married. Yes, giving him a handjob in the bathroom had been wrong, something done in a fit of lust-hazed insanity. He couldn't deny himself that chance when Blaine had been so vulnerable and willing with his pants around his ankles. But now what? Just tell him you can't, Kurt thought. This can't happen.

"Yes," Kurt said, deaf to the protests of his own conscience.