Title: Sunday Morning

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Sunday morning sex in which Blaine asks to break a rule and Kurt lets him.

Warnings: None

Words: ~7000

A/N: I wrote this on the 3rd of May and then edited it bit by bit with the help of sillygleekt, so huge thanks to her, into something reasonable. And then it was shelved. Big thanks to see-clarity/wordplay for betaing the second time round and now I'm posting it.

They're six months in. Everything's perfect. I have so much headcanon for before and after this fic and there's so much tied up in it. But mostly it's just awkward fumbling teenage sex. So…enjoy. Oh…and it's 7000 words, so a return to my epic standards after a few smaller ficlet things. Like it, reblog the shit out of it, because I like Kurt in this.

It's Sunday morning and it's the first Sunday morning that Blaine gets to wake up with his lips against the back of Kurt's neck, mussed hair tickling his forehead and his senses overwhelmed. His very first thought for the day is how badly he wants to do this forever and then he stretches, realizes he's half hard against his boyfriend's ass and smiles, wriggling a little into it, pressing closer because he can.

Then he closes his eyes and breathes deep and says a quiet thank you to the hands of fate that chose to intervene and give them a proper night together in Kurt's bed. That had let them slide under the covers together, so they could literally sleep together, and get used to the feel of another body but not for sex. And not desperate, just there. It had been new and wonderful—just like the rest of the night—and both boys secretly tried to keep their eyes open just that little bit longer, to memorize the feel and the smell and the way their breathing eventually fell in time.

But sleep had come and neither had thought to set an alarm so when Blaine wakes up it's the natural progression from not being to being and it's lovely to do it curled around Kurt because he thinks he was just dreaming of this and now it's all real.

There's light creeping into the room through the windows but it's in shades of gray and there's the sound of a rainstorm against the roof and the tree outside and Blaine kind of just wants to close his eyes and stay forever but he also needs to pee rather badly. He sighs and presses a kiss to Kurt's naked shoulder and he cannot believe how quickly they got here, how ridiculously quickly they got this comfortable with each other. That last night they'd talked for six hours without really discussing anything at all and when they couldn't stop yawning had pulled their clothes off leaving just underwear and in Blaine's case – and only because Blaine insisted – socks and slipped under the covers of the bed and just been content like that. Six months have flown by, most of the summer break has moved straight past them in a haze of laughter and adventure and teenage experimentation. By no extent are they finished building up their sex life—they've taken things slow and Blaine's proud of that—and there are still awkward moments and disagreements and occasional fights but lying here like this feels so, so grown up. And so right. Blaine grins again now to think it and to stare at the expanse of back and press another kiss there.

Kurt grunts and rolls his shoulders and buries his head further into the pillow and Blaine feels Kurt's legs extend as he stretches those, too.

"You awake?"

Another grunt from the boy in front of him and another kiss to his skin, this time between shoulder blades. "I'll be back," Blaine whispers before he throws the covers off and swings his legs out of bed and disappears.

As soon as Kurt hears the door to the bathroom close his eyes spring open and he rolls onto his back and grins manically at the ceiling. It's arguably the best sleep he's ever had and it is most certainly the best waking up.

He still can't quite believe that somehow his dad and Carole are away for the weekend. He also can't quite believe how decent Finn has been. Kurt had recounted the conversation that had led to their arrangement to Blaine two days before. When the he and Finn had found out their parents were leaving, Finn had opened with his requirement for the Friday night alone in the house with his girlfriend – who ever she was this week – and had offered a two for one coupon to Breadsticks in return. Kurt had countered with a requirement for Saturday night alone with Blaine and even though Finn had gaped like a goldfish he'd eventually stuttered a reply and the next day had mentioned he'd be staying with Puck and they'd have the house to themselves. He'd even been brave enough to throw Kurt a lop-sided smile and a slightly suggestive eyebrow waggle before something new occurred to him and then he was lost in his usual confused thoughts.

And Blaine and Kurt had had a good time. It was a shame where the weekend fell; their six-month anniversary was a few days away - the Thursday night out already planned to celebrate. So Blaine had turned up and they'd cooked together and watched a movie and laughed and joked and at one point raced through the house shrieking like complete idiots because of all the things Kurt had dared to call Blaine when there was no one else to hear, 'snugglepie' really was a bit much and Kurt's barely contained laughter against Blaine's seriously displeased expression could only result in a chase and a capture and a moment's playful wrestling before they were kissing and pressing and mumbling the rest of their disagreement over pet names into the other's mouth.

They'd come hard and up against a wall and with their hands in each other's pants and, much like their race around the house: it was quick and silly, and when Blaine tried to stop them from rutting hopelessly, their mouths everywhere, anywhere for a response, Kurt had murmured "We have the whole night and tomorrow morning," and had pulled Blaine's lips to his neck and come as his boyfriend's mouth pressed open and hot there. Blaine didn't argue then and followed him over the edge quickly.

And they did have the whole night, and after changing their pants and laughing at how young and desperate they were, they'd settled at opposite ends of the bed and talked about nothing for hours and hours until suddenly it was two in the morning and Kurt was yawning and Blaine scolded him for distracting him from his true goals. They brushed their teeth together, still grinning and shifting from one foot to the other to stay awake. On the way back to the bed, Blaine had pulled Kurt in for a goodnight kiss that tasted too much like peppermint and then they had settled beneath the covers and whispered 'sweet dreams'.

Kurt had fallen asleep with a smile across his lips and he's still smiling when he wakes up and now he's near laughing as his boyfriend wanders back through the door, socks scrunching and his hair lop-sided from where he's slept on it. Kurt gives into it and laughs as his eyes sweep down, to look and appreciate because he doesn't think he'll ever get over seeing his boyfriend naked—or at least almost—and he can't escape the confidence or the want or the adoration he feels. It is all so different from what he was before. Still him just…better. Happier.

Blaine slips back into bed, lying flat and pressing the side of his body up against the side of Kurt's, letting Kurt's hand rise to rest against his hip, across the cotton, and already anticipating. They stare at each other with heads turned against the pillows and neither really knows what to say because it all goes without saying.

A hand stretching across and Blaine rolls himself onto his side. Kurt mirrors him and his own hand comes up to splay across Blaine's naked chest, stroking across and through the scattering of hair while Blaine's hand traces from thigh to hip to ribs and back. "How long until Finn gets home?"

Kurt shrugs . "What time is it?"

Arching an eyebrow, Blaine raises up on an elbow to look over at the bedside clock. "It's only just after seven."

Kurt looks surprised and he is because seven on a Sunday is early and yet here they are wide awake. "He won't wake up until after nine. We've got time." And he makes sure to flash his only recently discovered seductive smile with eyelashes fluttering and eyes darkening to make sure Blaine gets the point.

"What do you want to do?" Blaine whispers and wonders just how gross a morning breath kiss can be as he watches Kurt's lips spread into another smile. Six months and there are still so, so many new things to try.

"Whatever you want to do," Kurt whispers back and knows Blaine's staring at his mouth and when this relationship started he set himself some rules never to break and morning-breath kisses seems inevitably to be another one he reneges on. "So long as it involves losing the boxers."

Blaine chuckles and leans half way in, waits for Kurt to meet him there and captures his mouth in a soft kiss. Tentative at first because neither is sure and both have heard Rachel's tirade about that one time with Finn but this isn't half bad and really, Kurt thinks, Blaine just tastes like Blaine with a faint reminder of toothpaste from the night before.

Blaine kind of just likes the way Kurt's tongue moves languid over his and both his boyfriend's hands come up to slip into his hair and gently start untangling his curls. When they pull back they smile and Kurt moves, crawls and leans across Blaine to reach the opposite side of the bed and grab the glass of water there. He settles back on his side, raised up on an elbow, and considers the expression on Blaine's face as he gulps the water down, letting it cool him because already he can feel heat in his cheeks.

Blaine takes the glass from him and finishes the water before replacing it and then he's moving forward, pressing Kurt's shoulders back into the bed and settling over him for another kiss. A kiss that's still slow and exploratory and not anywhere near as insistent as usual because they have time and so Kurt just rests back into the softness of the bed and lets the boy above him do what he likes.

The seconds crawl into minutes and they're both short on breath because Blaine's pressing close and his hands are catching at every hint of bone or muscle they find and their legs have tangled together. Blaine's trying to kneel just slightly, trying to take some of the weight away from Kurt's chest so they can keep going and keep kissing and then Blaine's mouth skirts down, kissing at each inch of jaw and then neck and then back up to find the spot behind Kurt's ear, raise up and find the same spot behind the other ear because he's never taken the time to go from one to the other, deduce which, if either, is more sensitive but on the third try Kurt arches and whines a little and Blaine tentatively files away the left side as favored. Grins to have discovered that and then lets his mouth trail down to shoulders and collarbone and keep kissing and sucking and biting and he kind of devises a devious plan, commits himself and kisses lasciviously back and across until Kurt's whining intermittently and then he pulls back, raises up on his hands a bit and does his best wanton desperate boyfriend look.

Kurt suspects trouble immediately and narrows his eyes even as he continues to chew on his bottom lip in response to the now hard cock pressed into his stomach. "What?" he asks, a little exasperated because Blaine has stopped.

"You know your rule about hickeys?"

Kurt rolls his eyes but says nothing, choosing instead to drag his hands out of Blaine's hair and trail them down his chest, across his sides and settle them over his ass, pulling him just that extra half inch closer.

"I really, really want to break it."

And it's such a breathless, rough voice that requests it that Kurt almost says 'yes' without thinking but the only other time Blaine got reckless enough to bite down on his neck—months ago, the first time they were naked together—it had felt amazing in the moment but very uncomfortable the next day when he'd had to pull out a scarf from last season and wear it through the day's heat. Thus the rule. Not that there weren't occasional little fingertip bruises about his hips which he stared at in the mirror but that faded over night. Or the outline of where Blaine's mouth had been that faded even faster. But he'd adamantly said no to hickeys.

"Why?" Kurt stalls.

Blaine gives a noncommittal shrug and blushes which makes Kurt wonder. "But just here," a finger traces across Kurt's neck and presses to the line of muscle from neck to shoulder, "This is where I had my lips last night when you…" he still hasn't found a comfortable way of discussing these things – it frustrates him and makes him blush and it's kind of Kurt's fault because he was so insistent on them not talking at the beginning. Blaine shakes his head and smiles to himself. "I wanted to do more than just kiss you there." He pulls back from where he's breathing the words across Kurt's skin to look him in the eye. "Nobody but you and me will even know it's there."

Another eye roll because the way Blaine's staring at him makes him feel helpless to do anything but agree and his hips are arching up a little and pressing and he's hoping they can string this morning out a little more than last night but also kind of just wanting to grind up and take. "Fine," Kurt says and wanted it to sound like he was making a concession but instead it comes out as a gasp as their cocks catch against each other and Blaine's happy with the result because his mouth falls back across Kurt's neck and kisses harder and hotter and down, keeps going down and Kurt should mind that this isn't the plan he just agreed to but one of Blaine's hands has found his hip and a thumb is stretching under the waistband of his shorts and stroking through the hair, teasing him by not quite touching where he wants it.

Blaine's other hand finds the gap beneath Kurt's arm and leans most of his weight there, getting space between their hips so the friction dissipates and they both groan at the loss but then his hand can move easily, can slip inside Kurt's underwear to wrap around his length and start a slow practiced stroke. Kurt can feel Blaine's lips curling into a smile against the center of his chest as they both just take a moment to breathe.

Then Blaine's hand tightens and he strokes just a little fast, his lips moving back up, past Kurt's shoulders and to his left ear where he sucks on his earlobe, licks around the shell and then whispers, blushing through the admission but hoping Kurt likes hearing it, "You're so hard for me."

And Kurt is actually kind of coming to love that Blaine sometimes talks like this. At first it was a bit awkward for him: it was strange and Kurt struggled to really believe what he was hearing and thought it broke the rhythm of the good thing they had going. It would make them both blush and it still does a little but Kurt has quickly come to realize that what Blaine is saying is not in any way worse than what they're doing and his voice always comes out so low and rough and now, yes, Kurt kind of really enjoys it. Perhaps even tries to goad him on sometimes.

This time he just lets something high-pitched escape his lips as he angles his hips up into Blaine's touch.

"Are you close?" Blaine whispers then, lips still working the spot behind his ear.

It's an obstinate "Nope," that Kurt manages in reply though the tilt of his body disagrees somewhat. "We only just started," he explains and it's obvious he wants to draw this out.

Blaine doesn't mind at all, wants this boy beneath him hard and desperate for it for a while because they never get to string it out and see how good it can be with a proper build. He just mumbles, "Good," and then lets his fingers uncurl.

Another whine at the loss of contact and Kurt gets frustrated so quickly like this, knows it should be a bit embarrassing how easily Blaine touching and then not can turn him demanding and pushy but it isn't, especially not now when Blaine's hand has left him and he's just staring down and waiting. Maybe waiting for Kurt.

He moves his hands, centers them and pushes Blaine off him, quickly twisting to kneel over him and losing the covers off the side of the bed in the process. With Kurt's legs straddling Blaine's waist, Blaine calls him a tease and looks down to where Kurt's underwear is slung low across his hips and he's obviously hard and Blaine's staring at where just the head of his cock has slipped above the waistband. Glad to have his attention and flushing under the intensity of the gaze, Kurt shuffles back to straddle a single leg and hook his own underwear down to mid-thigh before—a little roughly—tugging Blaine's down to the same spot. He takes a moment to grin at the image, the pair of them together and it's another thing he's not sure he'll ever get over.

Blaine's just as hard and his hips buck up at the friction of the material being dragged across him and Kurt can't help but slip back and down and press a wet kiss to the tip of his boyfriend's cock. Blaine near yelps and to the side Kurt can see him gathering the sheets in his hands, clutching as he fights the need to snap his hips up and closer to Kurt's mouth. Kurt just hums something pleasant and lets his mouth slip down a few inches, his mind still insisting on intruding at this point to tell him how strange it is that he enjoys this so much, to point out the actuality of what he's doing and say he shouldn't be getting harder at the taste or the feel but maybe just a little at the desperate sounds of the boy under him.

He lets his tongue swirl and he's not entirely confident at blowjobs yet, has an obscene wish to practice, to get better, to make his boyfriend a better recipient as well because now he's still making those embarrassing hot high noises and a hand is in Kurt's hair trying to pull him off and push him down at the same time and the other is still clutching at the sheets.

When Kurt's hands join his mouth, one around the base of Blaine's cock and one stroking his balls, Blaine's had enough and really does tug on Kurt's hair, forcing him off and then pulling him up in a haphazard mess of limbs until he can kiss him as hard as he likes and let his tongue sweep through his mouth as he groans and bucks and the pair of them manage to shove and kick their underwear off.

They kiss the minutes away and Blaine manages to slow himself back down into something languid and patient until he can find his voice and grumble, "I thought we were taking this slow."

Kurt laughs and it automatically makes Blaine smile beneath him as his hands stretch across his back and his fingers tap out a pattern. "It's not my fault you fall apart every time I do that."

Blaine seems momentarily offended, responding with, "It's not like you're a picture of control when I go down on you."

Kurt just scoffs. "I'm a hell of a lot more restrained than you are."

"Yeah?" Blaine says and Kurt nods. "Well I guess that says something about how fucking desperate you make me."

Kurt laughs because Blaine knows damn well he makes Kurt just as desperate but he's happy to go along with it and let Blaine roll back across him, reaching down as they move to find Kurt's length again and attempt to stroke him as far along as he can as he kisses him hard on the mouth.

When Kurt bucks up and swears into his ear, Blaine dares to follow through on their bargain, moves his lips to the half way point from neck to shoulder and kisses and licks and then opens his mouth and lets his teeth scratch—nothing new but testing the waters and he feels the muscle stretch as Kurt's neck curves away to give him more access. The hand around his cock unfurls and finds Kurt's hip, pulls him up and against his own hips, angling them perfectly—and the practice at this is really paying off—and they press together, stunning skin-on-skin friction while Blaine's mouth continues to press until he feels something vibrate through Kurt's throat and then he sucks.

His teeth find enough skin to pull into his mouth and he sucks roughly, holding it there, tasting sweat and heat and need and then he bites as hard as he dare, waiting for a sound of protest but only hearing that high keening sound from Kurt that translates to bliss and so sucking, biting harder, more, positive that this will bruise and terrified to see the damage but feeling the boy under him arch and the friction delicious and with a last soothing lick of his tongue he pulls back.

Kurt's got his eyes closed and his head angled away but there's a smile about his lips, open and gasping and his hips still rocking but it's obvious he's trying hard to slow it down again, to take their time and he shouldn't be getting off on a hickey anyway. It's just so juvenile.

Blaine just looks everywhere but Kurt's shoulder until he has to and what he sees he didn't expect to have such an effect but the bright red circle against pale skin, the punctuating scatter of pin prink red spots—already fading—and the very blatant indentation of where his teeth dug in, a hint of angry purple there—it makes his hips snap hard into Kurt's and that elicits a groan which he matches with a growl from somewhere deep in his throat as he mutters "Fuck," and decides hickeys most certainly suit this boy.

This boy who may now be a bit cross but who is still rutting against him and Blaine has to grasp his hips to still him as he mumbles, "Give me a minute," and Kurt just looks at him quizzically.

"You bit me," he deadpans.

Blaine looks slightly worried but mostly out of control.

"How bad is it?" Kurt tries to angle his head but can't quite see the spot on his shoulder that he can feel aching with a dull throb but all wet and hot and, actually, rather amazing.

Blaine blushes and Kurt tries not to laugh, tries to look stern because he knows it'll sit beneath the collar on most of his clothes and it feels tingly and sore in a good way. Blaine eventually answers with a soft sort of voice, "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to get that out of hand but you seemed to be enjoying it."

And as much as Kurt likes to torture Blaine about these things he also doesn't want to scare him away from doing it again because he's thinking about seeing that mark in the mirror when they finally get out of bed and it's making the heat in his stomach coil tighter. "I was, it's fine, I'm just asking what it looks like."

"It looks like I bit you," Blaine rattles and it's not at all uncommon to hear him still turned on when he's aiming for self-deprecation.

Kurt's eyes narrow then and he has to point out, ever inquisitive about the driving mechanisms behind their better than average teenage sex life, "Seeing that is really turning you on, isn't it? Not just doing, the seeing?"

Blaine agrees with a nod and tilts his hips back down, wants to search out contact again but Kurt wants to talk and has slipped his hands to Blaine's hips and is holding him firmly above him, keeping distance between them.

"Why?" And Kurt thinks he already knows, has to bite his lip to keep the shiver racing up his spine from spreading to his fingertips.

"It's a hickey," Blaine tries for off-hand but Kurt arches an eyebrow. "God, I can't believe I bit you that hard," he tries, possibly for deflection. But Kurt keeps watching him.

"I don't know," Blaine mumbles and now it sounds like he's actually thinking about this a little. "I mean, I know what you're thinking and I don't want you to freak out because it's not like I'm some…" he trails off because he's not sure how to say what he wants to say and because Kurt's smirking at him. Blaine whines his name, "Kurt, can't we just go back to what we were doing?"

Kurt shakes his head against the pillow he's now relaxed back against. "No because I'm rethinking my stance on hickeys. I didn't realize that it'd get you this worked up. And I am understandably curious as to why."

Blaine huffs and shies away from Kurt's gaze and Kurt thinks he's being silly because it really isn't that big a deal. Actually it's the epitome of teenage lust-filled adventure and completely natural and it's only the strange path their slow burning experimentation has taken and Kurt's wariness of several aspects—including hickeys and talking and getting caught—and Blaine's eagerness to wait that has left this to the side for so long. So maybe Kurt can guess why Blaine thinks it's a big deal, thinks Kurt will react badly so maybe it's a little bit his fault. He leans up and presses a kiss to Blaine's mouth, sliding his tongue in and pulling a moan all too easily before sinking back to the pillow. Still Blaine doesn't seem to want to talk, just rocks his hips into nothing again and is actually starting to think about just placing all his weight onto Kurt's hands and seeing what happens.

But Kurt half-laughs and says, "Oh my god you are such a baby," and Blaine would be offended except he loves that Kurt's gotten bold enough to tease him in bed and then Kurt continues before he can overthink things. "You know that time two weeks ago where I accidentally scratched up your back? Those four parallel lines that didn't quite break the skin but lasted for two days?" Blaine nods dumbly. Kurt breathes deep. "Not an accident."

No fucking way.

It takes several seconds for Blaine to ask, "Why?"

Kurt takes a deep breath but is too invested to back out now and likes the darkness to Blaine's eyes staring down at him, "You don't think I like being the one that gets to do that? Or being the only one that gets to touch you like that?" Blaine's eyes are wide and he's cute when he's bewildered. "Perhaps not as bad as you but Blaine, no one else gets to bite my neck, it makes sense you'd want a semi-permanent reminder of that."

Blaine whispers before Kurt's finished speaking and Kurt almost misses it. "What if it's more than that?" and he looks just a little bit scared of himself. Kurt just tries to smile reassuringly, setting up a soothing caress with his hands moving to Blaine's back. "What if it's marking you as mine and it's an ownership thing and I'm really sorry if that makes me weird or over-bearing but I can't get over that thought and, yeah, when I see that mark it makes me so desperate and even in clothes I'll know it's there and I don't know how I'll manage not to pin you against the nearest wall and kiss you brains out tomorrow."

Kurt laughs lightly to try to cover the surge of need pulsing through him and his sudden desperation to drag Blaine back down against him. Because maybe that does make Blaine weird and over-bearing and perhaps Kurt shouldn't like words like 'owned' and 'marked' being thrown around and should wish this was just a hickey, just like everyone else got and gave. But he doesn't wish any of that. He really fucking doesn't.

And there's one more question burning at the back of his throat and he's not sure how to broach it because it's so much more than anything they ever talk about and it's just some strange fantasy that at some point formed and started creeping in late at night, only on night's where he hasn't seen Blaine for weeks. But he really wants to ask. Even if it makes him weird. "So biting and finger nails and now that I know I'll make sure I show you when your fingers leave marks on my hips –" Blaine groans and it's the good kind but Kurt feels he needs to clarify. "And I do bruise easily so don't think you're going too far. I like it. But –" he blushes and Blaine is staring at his mouth and licking his lips and maybe not listening as well as he should be.

"But what else?" Kurt finishes lamely and Blaine just rolls his eyes because he's had enough and that's not a real 'but' and Kurt's not really sure what he wants to ask so when Blaine presses down Kurt lets his hands slide around to his back and their hips press and the contact is instant and flush and they've done this so many times that they slip easily into a hard rhythm against each other.

At the same time, Blaine's mouth finds Kurt's, open and hot and they both know there lips are going to be swollen and sore from too much kissing but neither can really bring themselves to care. Blaine's fingers ghost across Kurt's chest, flicking at nipples, circling, then tugging gently at the scatter of hair that he loves so much, up and along each collarbone and then skirting up to his neck, pressing fleetingly at the bruise Kurt still hasn't seen and it aches beautifully and they both rock harder into each other.

At some point Kurt pushes Blaine away and onto his back and clambers to straddle his thighs to get more friction, to be able to see more and he knows Blaine's stuck staring at his neck again and he preens under the attention and arches and then leans forward and kisses him again, a hand wrapping around Blaine's cock and stroking while Blaine does the same for him. If Blaine was even vaguely coherent at this point he might see the spark of trouble, of an idea, in Kurt's eyes as his hand comes down to cover Blaine's around him and force more pressure, buck hard into his hold and then slip down to rub at his own balls. He's desperate to come and not just for the obvious reason so when Blaine takes the hint of a tilted head and exposed neck, of a still red reminder he leans up and licks and nuzzles and presses his mouth to it and that sends Kurt over all too easily.

He presses his hips as close as he can and comes across his hand and his stomach with a few short sharp strokes, something not at all coherent slipping past his lips and Blaine keeps pressing chaste kisses to his shoulder until the shivers stop and then he waits patiently, waits for him to start stroking again, to finish him off because it's never really been a competition but they have never managed to get the timing perfect before and there are always those longs moments of recovery for one or the other.

Except Kurt rolls off him, onto his back, sprawled and sated with a hand against his stomach in spite of the mess there and closes his eyes for a moment. Blaine's about to get snarky or just finish himself off without any help when Kurt mumbles, "Come here," and extends an inviting hand, tugging ineffectively at Blaine's waist.

Blaine does not need a second invitation and quickly scrambles onto his knees, waiting for Kurt's hands to find his hips and angle him across him, straddling and it's higher than usual, across his abdomen, almost on his ribs, and Blaine can feel the wet hot mess slippery between them. He blushes hard for the umpteenth time that night and wonders if Kurt will ever stop making him blush. Both Kurt's hands find him then, forearms resting over Blaine's thighs, and Blaine rocks forward, bending as much as he can to kiss the boy beneath him

It takes a few deep hot kisses and a half dozen tight strokes to bring Blaine back to the edge, to have him whimpering into Kurt's mouth until he can't concentrate enough to kiss and sits up straighter, hands on Kurt's shoulders, resting weight there and across his stomach and on his own knees. Blaine rocks against him to search for more friction even as Kurt stretches a hand lower, coerces him up a little onto his knees so he can stroke at his balls. And then he says something that makes Blaine buck and open his eyes wide. "I want you to come." And Kurt can't quite bring himself to say what his mind is screaming, what he always whispers against his pillow when he's jerking himself off and missing Blaine more than ever. Not 'for me' or 'now' or 'please', but always 'on me'. He sounds shy instead of desperate like he does in his fantasies but Blaine doesn't care and maybe understands just a little of what's happening.

Only a little because he stutters out, "What?" and it's so silly because Kurt's murmured such things before but never like this, never lying beneath him, sated and splayed and with gravity of some sort fringing his words.

"Come on, Blaine, come." He sounds so breathless and there's so much unspoken, something desperate and willing in his voice and Blaine doesn't have the mental capacity to even begin to think about it right now beyond being in awe of this boy and what they have. Kurt watches Blaine's neck tense and his jaw tighten and knows he's holding back with every inch of willpower and whatever Kurt's saying seems to be working but Blaine's holding back, maybe hesitating and then Kurt whispers, low and seductive, slipping back into their comfort zone "Come for me," and that does it.

Inside his head, Blaine imagines him saying something else. Then Blaine's hips snap into the tight grip of Kurt's hand and—oh fuck—a rough groan that's loud enough to reverberate through Kurt and he's so happy no one is home and Blaine holds there, hips rocking minutely as he gives in to the allure and lets his gaze sweep from Kurt's eyes down so he can watch with his breath caught in his throat as he comes in pearly white streaks across Kurt's chest—on pale skin and across the scatter of hair, dangerously close to his neck and mouth and, a little splattering across a nipple and Blaine groans again and he knows that that image just makes everything more.

He keeps holding his breath when it's over, balanced despite his body feeling boneless, on his knees over Kurt. Kurt laughs at him hard then because he's gone from dominant sex-god to blushing idiot in so few seconds and the vibration in his stomach makes Blaine groan and lift a knee to shift and kneel at Kurt's side before leaning down and kissing him in what's meant to be chaste apology for something he's not sure he can be blamed for but that quickly turns deep and provocative as Kurt does his best to nip and lick and chase Blaine's mouth until he's sitting and Blaine's thinking about scrambling away to save some grace and potentially salvage Kurt's sheets.

Kurt just laughs at him again, blushing and shy but struggling to stay that way in the face of hot and naked and the strange mix of gross and sexy he's feeling as come slides and cools down his chest and belly. Except, actually…he runs three fingers up his stomach all the way to his sternum, spreading what's there and making Blaine groan and blush and close his eyes.

Kurt sees it happen and stops, his hand dropping and the awkwardness of something new and dangerous and a bit on the edge: maybe Blaine didn't want that, maybe he's closing his eyes because this time Blaine will say 'No'—that moment that they seem to be facing every second week that's thrilling and awesome but only because no one has had to say 'No' yet.

Blaine's eyes flutter open and Kurt wishes he could pull the blankets up and hide beneath them but he's too messy and settles for tugging the sheet from under him, settling it over his lap in what he hopes is a casual movement. Someone has to speak though and Blaine's still staring so Kurt takes a deep breath. "I like you all undone like that," he says in a low, abashed voice, still unsure, still wondering how much subtext Blaine has gleaned, still waiting to hear someone say 'no'. "I liked all of that."

Blaine just shuffles around to sit on the edge of the bed, not bothering to pull the sheets over him, and eye Kurt critically. When he finally manages to open his mouth his voice is a growling rasp, "Jesus fucking Christ, Kurt –" and he's not sure how to expand on that assessment but tries. "You…minx." Kurt holds his breath for a second and then he giggles, the tension breaking just like that and now he doesn't look minx-like at all. "Seriously, at some point this—" Blaine gestures between them exuberantly "—is going to get too much and you're going to kill me." And now Blaine's kind of grinning because Kurt's laughter is always infectious.

"Oh, really?" Kurt asks, sounding none too convinced.

Blaine growls again and Kurt's stomach flutters. "No," Blaine eventually says, stretching both hands out and pulling Kurt off the bed, losing the sheet and drawing him around to stand between his legs and lean down for another kiss. "It was good. Better than good." A pause as he considers. "Thank you." Kurt gives a shrug that says it was nothing at all but Blaine silently disagrees and wonders and replays it and loves him a little bit more. "Shower?" he asks and wonders if he'll be asking too much for a second round before Finn gets home. They don't really do second rounds because they never have the time but Kurt's cock is already growing hard in front of him and today, perhaps, they do have time.

Kurt hums his approval of the idea because he is still a sticky mess. He could argue that he's messier than his boyfriend and deserves to shower first but he knows he would blush at that and fumble the words so he just asks, "Do you want to go first?"

One of Blaine's hands has settled into a caress over Kurt's hips and he smiles at the question before responding. "I was kind of hoping we could share?"

Kurt's mouth just opens into an 'o' as his hands slip up Blaine's forearms and he remembers that time in Blaine's shower a month ago. It had been a bit of a disaster, for the most part, but two weeks later they'd gotten better at standing and being wet and slippery around each other. And, of course, he's perfectly content to just spend another hour wrapped around his boyfriend, regardless of setting, but he does need to wash.

As they find their pants and slip them on out of habit, knowing that's another pair for the wash, Kurt catches sight of himself in the mirror: flushed and still shining with a thin sheen of sweat and saliva and come across his body. His hair's twisted into awkward shapes and his lips are red and his eyes are bright and there, half way between his neck and his shoulder is the very blatant mark of his boyfriend. A dynamic splash of red and purple and the faintest outline of teeth and maybe it will hurt tomorrow but every time he feels it there, remembers it, he's going to feel electricity race up his spine and he's going to love it.

So yeah…my ever so slightly submissive Kurt. Deal with it. Cause I still think he's awesome and masculine and hot as fuck. And yeah, he grows into that need and totally ends up…well if I told you I would never have a reason to write it, would I? But you can imagine.