Kurt's prude, except when they've finally had sex. It's like a wave of jolting experience in bed, them making out underneath the crescent moon, and the soft lights of his room. Kurt's learned by now that the light highlights the hazel colour of Blaine's eyes, and that his skin's as soft as ever before as Kurt sucks on it only to emit a moan that is as soft as the moonlight, only softer, only much more like a whisper and much less like an actual emitted moan from his body. He crumbles in motion, like liquid, moving freely into his arms, as if they're connected, and that's just before their bodies infuse together in one.

This is why Kurt wants to make that kind of beauty, that kind of connection, just a bit stronger. Create their own world through words and locked kisses that can express what words cannot.

At the beginning, Kurt's the one that is underneath Blaine, and he remembers first longing to press his body against the warm one, to make him melt just like Blaine's made him melt, to make sure their flesh infuses with their sweat, with the slickness of their desire, to empower them with heat and passion and the warmth that entangles them like the warmth of two hearts procreating and joining together, not fully segregated even as their bodies leave, as if to ensure that fire, and ignition remains, like adding chopped lumber to a fire.

It begins innocently.

Then Kurt tries to role-play, and at first, it's all Blaine's tentative ideas and suggestions. He still remembers how magical it feels to create his own little world where Kurt is everyone he hopes to be. When Blaine asks him in a very small voice if Kurt can play the boy, Anthony, from the Sadie Hawkins dance, Kurt complies completely, and they pretend to make their own dance together underneath the weight of their bodies, as they crash down into kisses, and Kurt's not angry when Blaine calls him by the boy's name, because Kurt knows that the passion in Blaine's eyes, it's for Kurt's blue ones, it's for the blueness of his eyes, the rosiness of his cheeks – the love of their innocent, fragile hearts.

After it, Blaine asks him to play Sebastian, and Kurt doesn't stare at him angrily, because it's all just a pretentious act in the end, a dance of fiction, as Kurt walks down, in that striped shirt that he wears on Scandals, a smirk on those pink lips but it's not Sebastian because those eyes are still blue even through the green contact lenses, and their lips connect, softly at first, then they melt into nothing, and when Kurt's clothes are off him, even with the contacts, even with the hair pushed up into that obnoxious CW hair, it's still glinting brown in the moonlight and Kurt's body is still Kurt's body—it's still the same, everything, the melting of their skins, the touch, the love, the ignition…is just them.

That's why he says yes.

When Blaine feels Kurt's hand in his hair as he whispers into his ear, "I want to try talking dirty," and those words aren't taken out of that innocent smile and those blameless blue eyes. It's not.

The first time doesn't make Blaine think back.

"Are you happy we're doing this?" Kurt says excitedly one day, just before their planned night at that pretty pristine-white hotel room and Blaine nods slowly, even though there's something etching at his stomach, telling him something else, something about the fire being too much to bear. Kurt smiles even brighter now and Blaine cannot resist. "I'm so happy we're doing this."

That night, Blaine sees Kurt's worn that silvery belt that means that he's feeling sexy, and Blaine realises why Kurt likes the idea of it so much because Kurt's obsessed with control and this would mean that Blaine only belongs to him. At first, Blaine likes the idea, of belonging to Kurt forever as it's a sweet sentiment, a sugary sweet little promise that they are to be together, to keep the fire ignited, to keep that secret connection of love between them, and pull their heartstrings closer.

"Oh, babe, do you want this?" Kurt says, unbuttoning Blaine's Dalton's blazer. "Tell me you want this; come on…tell me you want this just as bad as I do. Tell me you want me, Blainey. You sexy little school-boy with the adorable little face that flushes like his cock does. Come on. Tell me."

Blaine lets out a throaty moan as Kurt expertly takes off his blazer, that's now only used for sex purposes since Kurt finds it kinky to take off Blaine's Dalton blazer, and then comes the smooth slippery movement of pulling the tie, just before Kurt's teeth lavish onto Blaine's neck. "Gosh, you are gorgeous. Gosh, you are mine. Tell me you're mine, babe. Tell me you want this."

Blaine nods his head, letting out another soft moan. "I want…I want this."

"Good little boy…you're so good to me," Kurt's voice is a mere whisper into Blaine's ear, as Kurt starts buttoning Blaine's shirt fluently. It's still soft, and they're still innocent underneath the translucent moonlight. "…babe…babe, tell me how much you want me to fuck you. Tell me now."

"Fuck me," Blaine's voice is soft now as he flushes underneath the weight of how much he really wants Kurt right now, in that fusion, like the moon and the sun, and the stars and the Earth, together, now, forever as the night remains embedded in their bodies like soft curtains of ice on their skin, after the desire hits closer. "Fuck me, Kurt. Fuck me. Take me, baby."

"You are so good to me…so pretty with those sexy lips of yours…what can they do? Do you want to show me, Blainey? Show me," Kurt mumbles softly. "Fuck, scream it out for me, Blaine. Show me."

Blaine feels Kurt flip their positions, making Blaine rest on top of him, as Blaine slides towards the ground, and unzips Kurt's pants with a slightly shaky hand. "God, Blaine, take me…take me, you little sexy fucker. Take me into your mouth, fuck me. I know you can do it. I know you can…just look at your lips, babe. They're made for this."

Blaine takes the tip of Kurt's cock into his mouth, teasing the slit with his warm tongue. "That's it, babe. Fuck. Fuck, you're good at this." Kurt's hands are grabbing onto Blaine's hair already, even though the grip is small. Blaine himself isn't quite fond of blow-jobs but takes it as it is.

It makes Kurt happy, and that's enough to keep the fire lighting for now.

"Tell me you want me, babe. Tell me you want me to come into you."

Blaine groans as he wraps his lips faster, taking Kurt in deeper, as he starts bobbing back and forth, hand wrapped around the cock, feeling it harden underneath the weight of his lips, and the saltiness of the skin touching his mouth as he mumbles a "hmmmm".

Blaine pulls off with a small pop and then shakes his head. "Want you…want you in me," Blaine desperately attempts, as Kurt lifts him off the ground as quickly as possible, too intoxicated by heat, as their bodies tumble on top of each other, Kurt furiously tugging at Blaine's shirt, as his lips attack Blaine's neck but the kisses are still soft, still pretty, still sweet. "Blaine, tell me. Tell me now. What do you want?"

Blaine blushes. "I want…I want you in me."

Kurt takes it as a start, and then nods his head as he watches Blaine unbutton Kurt's shirt. When they're both naked, and bare, Kurt presses his lips against Blaine's neck, making him moan out softly. Their moves are delicate, as if two bodies are trying to find each other in each other again, as Kurt thrusts into him, and then Blaine feels the warmth, the familiarity of Kurt being into him and then moans again. "That's it, babe. I'm gonna fill you up right now with my cock, okay? I'm gonna fill you up. You're mine, babe. You're mine," and now, Kurt's thrusts are mechanical at first, but then pass a certain degree and they become those of passion, each one filling Blaine with warmth and need, need to feel the warmth inside of him explode, as if he's ready to release himself into the world, his desire, the beauty of them together…just being them underneath that moonlight, the crescent of light dancing on their skin—tingling, making them whole again—

Kurt comes into Blaine and then lets out short and laboured breaths as he collapses on top of Blaine. They roll around and they hold each other. They are one person, and they find each other.

He doesn't mind it at first. It's cute. But now, it's become their mantra now.

Kurt does it all the time, touching him like that, calling him, that filthy-talking that takes away a bit of their innocence every time they do it, almost as if the love's gone to filth, and the roses aren't there anymore or the candles or the hotel room. They're devoid of elegance and eloquence and have been submerged to having sex in Kurt's car, or in Blaine's room, when Blaine's insecurity rises to the fact that his parents may return, but he doesn't voice it out.

Kurt's hands are against Blaine's shoulders, as they kiss softly. Blaine can feel Kurt's hardness from their soft kisses. Their lips are together in perfect trance and sync, and when Blaine pulls away, their eyes lock with each other, and that need overtakes them, except Kurt's hand slings underneath Blaine's arm. Blaine can already feel Kurt's hardness as they're against each other, can already feel Kurt needing him.

"Oh, babe, God, I want you," Kurt bites at Blaine's earlobe. "I want you, you little whore."

Blaine's mouth nearly drops but Kurt's biting his earlobe, too busy to notice. He pretends his heart isn't aching as he lets out a soft moan. Kurt opens the door to one of Burt's car's and then shoves Blaine across, and then shuts the door behind him. They know that Burt isn't going to be back for a while, having to drive off for a whole new city for spare tires, but Blaine can't help but feel…filthy, not so innocent, not so pretty anymore. There is no fire, but there is just coldness as Kurt's lips touch his skin again, trying to ignite it. His body responds but his heart hurts. He watches as his body years for Kurt, his cock hardening as his and Kurt's rub with the friction of their pants, pelvises thrusting together and hips hitting against each other, skin to skin.

Kurt separates his bow-tie from his shirt, so that the bow-tie's still on his skin and then tears off Blaine's shirt, making him stare at shock at the discarded clothes. Kurt's never done that before. He's always taken off his clothing so gently, but this time, Kurt's need is nearly animalistic.

Blaine's scared.

The fire burning in him is a mix of desire and fear, and he's not sure what to feel anymore as Kurt bites into him, harsh bites, the need. "Tell me you want me to fuck you, you little cockslut. Come on," and this time, Kurt's voice is making Blaine feel horrible.

"Ahhh. Blaine, tell me, scream for it, babe. Beg for me. Beg for me like the little whore you are."

"…please…" Blaine's voice is soft. "Please fuck me, Kurt."

"That's it, babe. That's right," and then Kurt's unzipping his pants with such haste that Blaine's sure that it doesn't take him more than those two minutes to take off his clothing and then to unzip and lower Blaine's pants as if they're offending them, as if there's nothing but skin that matters. The moonlight is not around and the only light is the harsh one rippling from the shop.

He's in a shop. He's in Burt's shop, and they're fucking in a car that isn't theirs. Blaine doesn't say anything, because he wants Kurt, and he honestly loves him too much to decline him. Kurt won't know, and he will never know.

"Look at you," Kurt tugs at the bow-tie that matches his candy-red striped boxers, as Kurt bites just below his red bow-tie, as if marking him. "Fuck…fuck, Blaine, you're making me so hard. You're such a good little boy. Such a good little one."

He feels like a possession. He feels like an item that belongs to Kurt, like his Chanel bag and piece of jewellery, an accessory, a source of pleasure and nothing more. There's no connection in their eyes. There's only fear in Blaine's. "I want you to feel my hard cock into your sweet tight pink little pucker, babe. I want you to feel me…feel my hardness for you. Feel how hard you made me with that sexy little body of yours." Kurt whispers into Blaine's ear, positioning himself on top of Blaine. Blaine stares at the glass.

He's aroused, but he still feels as worthless as a prostitute. He winces when he remembers that he's screamed at Sam for not selling himself, but right now, he feels like he's sold himself off to Kurt, as if his body's nothing anymore, just Kurt's possession to be fucked around with those words that pierce through his mind, and send him reeling. "Oh God, Blaine…so fucking…so fucking amazing…Oh. Such a good little slut. Such a good little slut."

Blaine doesn't even notice that there are tears threatening to surface until he bites back his lip to moan, because his body wants this. He just doesn't want this, not like this. He bears it all for Kurt's pleasure, because Kurt loves it. Kurt needs it like this.

"What do you want, babe? Tell me…tell me how bad you want it, like the little whore you are…"

"Fuck me, Kurt. Faster," Blaine says through some sort of desperation and Blaine can only hope that Kurt thinks it's an act. Blaine nods towards Kurt, and Kurt thrusts into him again, filling him again.

"Oh God. My…cock…in your ass…" Kurt says. "God…so fucking tight…oh God…"

Blaine can feel Kurt slip in and out of him, harder and harder, faster and faster, into extents he doesn't think Kurt is capable of before.

"I'm…I'm…I'm gonna make you smell like me for a week! Fuck…smell…like…our…sex…fuck…BLAINE!"

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine says breathlessly as Kurt comes and then Blaine comes afterwards. They clean up the car, and wear their clothing and the minute that Blaine steps home, he takes off his clothes, burns them into the fire, and then takes a long shower to wipe the smell off Kurt and his' sex. He curls up into bed, hungry but doubtful that he can keep anything down, as he thinks of how his body's a possession-to Kurt.

He's worthless.

He's a slut.

Blaine bites his lower lip, and then cries himself to sleep. When he wakes up, there's a missed call and a text message from Kurt. Love, you didn't answer my call. Are you OK? Blaine feels the need to throw up, as his hands are shaking. He doesn't want to talk to Kurt. He doesn't want to see Kurt. He doesn't want to be anything with Kurt. He just feels sick. When they're together at first, he feels that their bodies are one, as if they're them, together, but now, he's dissociated from reality, from himself.

He sees Kurt worry for him.

7:45PM. Blaine?

9:19PM. Love, you're scaring me…call back, OK?

Blaine cannot sleep. 12:16AM. Blaine, please, you're scaring me…call me. I don't care if you wake me up. Tell me you're okay.

1:55AM. I love you, okay? You know that, right? He's cold and heartless and disgusting and Kurt doesn't deserve him. He's worthless. He's got nothing to offer Kurt anymore. And as much as Blaine doesn't want to see Kurt, he needs him. He loves him. He loves him so much that it hurts, that it makes Blaine feel disgusted of this all, that it confuses him. Blaine lies awake at night, and the moonlight is mocking him.

There is no fire. There is only coldness. There are only secrets in the dark, only filthy little secrets.

Kurt doesn't see Blaine the next three days of school and when he comes back, he's not wearing his pretty colours and bow-ties and cute little smiles. He's wearing the biggest raven-black sweater that he can find that drowns him out and hides him, and the dullest smile he's ever seen in his life. There is no life. There is no Blaine in him.

"Blaine," Kurt voices out softly.

"Kurt," Blaine says his name meaninglessly, as if he's just simply relearning the name.

"Blaine, what's going on? Why aren't you answering my calls?" Kurt's dumbfounded and his eyes are full of jaded concern for his boyfriend as he cups his cheeks. Blaine just feels dirty underneath the layers and layers of clothing. He wants to rip his clothes off and scrub his skin raw until it's clean enough. He wants to jump in front of a building. He wants something.

So when he's at home, he does. He spends three hours scrubbing his skin, red and raw, until his anxiety disappears, until he feels like there's no demons in him that's sending him to this compulsion. Whenever he gets a text message from Kurt, he snaps and finds himself curled up against his bathroom walls, scrubbing every inch of his skin until it's raw with rage, until he's clean enough. Until there's no sign of Kurt anywhere on him.

He wears nothing that is of colour anymore and quits Glee. He cannot sing anymore, because he is too shy too. He is not the confident, happy boy he is before, and he doesn't know why. Because Kurt's done nothing wrong but love him and that just makes him withdraw himself more.

He can't help but feel the filth in him, like something that is accumulating in his body every day that he has to get rid of. It just takes a glance at Kurt to send him into the bathroom for hours, just to clean himself. A conversation lands himself into a routine that is orderly and systemic. His Mother notices that he's been spending too much time in the bathroom and calls him out on it, but if they tear him away, his anxiety burns into him until he reaches to a level where he can't look at Kurt or he'll throw himself off a bridge because he's filthy. God, he's so filthy.

He has more than one secret by the end of it.

"Mercedes, he's just shunning himself away from everyone. I can't look at him without him disappearing. Nobody can. He's not around in this world anymore. It's like he's just locked himself away into another world where he's obsessed about trying to set things right. I don't know what's going on though—I don't know what's taking up so much of his time that his grades are slipping away, and he's breaking underneath whatever the hell it is and I can't help but think it's something I did, Mercedes but I can't understand what. He's been acting so strange, so strange and I can't…I can't understand what's going on with him."

Kurt takes Blaine over to Emma Pillsbury who notices Blaine's withdrawal. Blaine does not hold anything or touch anyone. He looks very reluctant to slide against the seat, almost as if he's worried it will attack him. Emma's eyes first fall onto his skin, his very red, swollen and raw skin. "Honey, let me look at that."

Blaine doesn't trust her to touch his hands. He unrolls his sleeves and Kurt's staring at the angry redness.

"That's dermatitis…I'd have that checked. Are you allergic to anything?" Blaine shakes his head, and when she makes a movement to touch his hands, Blaine shies them away from her, nearly glaring at her. He doesn't look at his inflamed skin.

"Blaine. Talk to us."

"No." His bag's a pharmacy made with too many lotions and cleaning agents and he doesn't have anything else, but it weighs him down. He stares at Emma and then bites his lower lip. He leaves without even looking at Kurt. He feels that filthiness again, so he throws himself in the school bathroom to skip through periods. He cleans the countertops before he can stay there and just continues to wash his hands and he wonders if he can just tear his skin off and buy himself new skin, clean skin, good skin. Emma's standing there by the doorway, and then moves towards him, running her hand through his hair. "It's gonna hurt you, you know. The OCD…"

Blaine watches her as she leaves and he stares at his skin again.

He's got more than one secret, and one of them makes the other, and the other one is going to kill him but it doesn't matter, because he's not Blaine anymore. And Kurt's not going to care when he realises this…Blaine stares at himself in the mirror. It won't matter because Kurt won't love him anymore, because it's true, every word he's said, sinking into his skin, and shed by layers and layers of Blaine's excessive washing of his hands, until they're triggered again, accumulating his skin like bacteria and dirt.

Blaine stares at his skin again. And then at his body. He's dropped weight because he doesn't care about doing anything other than this….because he sees Kurt all of the damn time.

He sees Kurt message him. Talk to me. Lima Bean? Now?

Blaine has a panic attack in the bathroom for what seems to be no apparent reason. He wonders how long he can keep himself up before he completely breaks. He leaves the bathroom. Kurt waits in the coffee shop and he's lonely. The next day, the only message he has is I'm leaving. Blaine transfers to Dalton the very next day.

He's greeted by Thad who wraps his arms around him. He can't help but hate physical contact but he smiles and wraps his arms around him. That's an hour to wash his hands, an hour to wash it all off, until he feels better, left foot in front of the sink, stare at mirror for thirty seconds, elbows not touching the marble, and wash once, twice, thrice, four times, five, until he reaches twenty-eight, then he takes a breath, steps back, and steps with his right foot, and repeats the process until he's sure that the anxiety calms down, until the layers are stripped off, like make-up layers on his skin, until he's alright.

The Warblers don't find him.

Meaning he needs to find a way to be pure again. Except he's not and he never will be. He lets the moonlight mock over him again as he runs his hand through his skin. Thad's asleep. He has a panic attack, rolls over, and writes a message in the half-glinting light from his room. I'm sorry, Kurt. I love you but we can't do this anymore. I can't be with you anymore. He shuts the phone and gets a text message. He thinks he sees Kurt crying when he's driving by. Everyone hates him.

He hates himself too.

He's not in the Warblers anymore. He's not in a show choir singing group and he spends his time wiping away every mistake he's supposed to be. He's nothing that Finn's envious is, he isn't the perfect boy that's got a lead role as Tony.

He's just lost.

He can't find himself.

And he can't find Kurt either.

He shakily sits down onto his bed, and then slowly sees the message. Talk to me? From Emma Pillsbury. He stops by, sits with her and Mr Schue. "Talk to us, Blaine."

Will's eyes are onto Blaine refusing the cookie from Emma, the cleanest person he's known. Emma nods understandingly. He can't wash a cookie, but she lets him pick off the apple and wash it. He does, and she notices his pattern. He spends nearly half an hour washing an apple that he stares at it and puts back in the fridge. Will flinches. He counts the apples three times to make sure of the number and refuses them again. Emma herself is shocked as she stares at Blaine, wondering if this is how she's like to Will and that scares her.

Blaine scares her.

"What happened?" Will's voice is full of sympathy.

"You came here to talk. Come on. Talk to me," Emma sits down onto a chair.

Blaine screams. Will stares as he spends a good five minutes just screaming his lungs out, then he tiredly looks down at his feet. "I know Kurt doesn't mean it…calling me…those names…when we do it…making me feel…really…"

Blaine shakes his head. "…filthy…" and that's his trigger word, sinking into his skin. He needs a bath. He needs to wash it off before it becomes heavier. Because he can't deal with it if it becomes heavier to his skin. "Whenever I see him…think about him…like…"

"Obsessively think about him," Will repeats. "From your OCD."

Blaine continues, as if Will hasn't said those words. "…I just…throw myself…into the bathroom…"

"And it helps you feel better?"

Blaine laughs. "God no." Blaine stares down at his feet. "I need him." He can't even say his name anymore because if he does, he's sure that he'll throw up. "I need him so much it hurts. But I can't look at him…he doesn't know…but every time we used to do it…he used to call me…those names…and I just snapped one day. I couldn't take it anymore. I lost it. I lost me."

Blaine shakes his head, tears spilling from his cheeks. "God, it's so stupid."

Blaine moves towards the doorway and sees the visitor, why Emma and Will are nervous, because Kurt's standing there, mouth agape, and then moves towards him to touch him. Blaine lets out a few sobs this time. "Blaine, why didn't you tell me it started bothering you, honey? Why didn't you tell me?" Kurt mouths a 'thank you' to them and then wraps his arms around Blaine again.

"Honey. You have to tell me this again."

"I can't." Blaine says. "You were so happy. You told me you were so happy."

Kurt bites his lower lip and kisses his cheeks.

Blaine finds Kurt, but Kurt hasn't found Blaine yet and he may have lost him for good. "I love you," Kurt murmurs against Blaine's ear and Blaine nods his head slowly, as Kurt kisses his cheek again. "I love you so much…"

Blaine finishes off the sentence for him as he lets out a strangled sob.

"…it hurts."