A/N: So I realize I'm on a bit of an uploading rampage. Forgive me - now that school is over, I finally have a chance to write again. This is an extremely random and sort of ridiculous little drabble (kind of like Nutella), but I hope you'll find it amusing.

Locked Out

"Shit."

"What?" Kurt asks, his breath hot on the back of Blaine's neck as he reaches around to toy with the buttons of his shirt.

"Don't be mad," Blaine begs, turning to face Kurt and looking exceptionally guilty.

"What?" Kurt demands again.

Blaine looks at his feet. "I think - I, uh. The key. I don't - "

"Do not tell me you locked us out of the apartment," Kurt says sharply.

Blaine glances up at Kurt, his expression apologetic.

"Well?" Kurt prods. He is shifting into full diva mode at a rather terrifying pace.

"You said not to tell you - " Blaine begins weakly, hoping to make a bit of a joke out of it.

Kurt is not amused.

"Oh, don't play that game with me, Blaine Anderson," he warns.

He means business if he's using Blaine's full name.

"Fine, yes. It seems I may have locked us out," Blaine admits.

His mind is still boggling slightly at the rapidity with which Kurt has transformed from about-to-rip-his-clothes-off to about-to-rip-his-head-off.

"Blaine!" Kurt cries in exasperation. "I told you to make sure you had a key!"

"Sorry?" Blaine tries.

Kurt glares at him.

A thought occurs to Blaine. "The super definitely has a spare key!" he says triumphantly.

"Yes, and he's definitely out of town for the weekend," Kurt retorts.

Blaine's face falls. "Rachel?" he suggests.

"She has rehearsal at 6 tomorrow morning," Kurt says. "She'll be asleep by now, and God help the person who wakes her up."

Blaine scrunches up his nose in disappointment. "Sorry," he says again, and he looks so much like a kicked puppy that Kurt can't help but feel a little bit bad for him.

"It was a mistake," Kurt sighs, internally cursing how difficult it is for him to stay mad at Blaine. Then again, Blaine is rarely able to stay mad at him either. "I guess we can go crash at Santana's. Though I'm not sure there's room for both of us to fit lying down in her apartment."

Santana's apartment (if you can even call it that) is approximately the size of a postage stamp.

Blaine nods, suddenly thoughtful. "Or... we could pull an all-nighter!" he suggests hopefully.

Kurt raises his eyebrows. "May I remind you that we are no longer college students?" he says.

They pulled more than their fair share of all-nighters in college - out at parties with Santana, listening to Rachel work though her issues with Finn, cramming for exams. There had been one night when Kurt's computer crashed and he had to rewrite an entire 15 page paper in 12 hours. Blaine had insisted on staying up with him, going on hourly coffee runs and blasting Gaga when Kurt needed motivation. He made it until 5 AM, when Kurt found him passed out face down on page 205 of Great Expectations. Another night, just a random Saturday, they stayed up all night laughing and making love and whispering words like "someday" and "forever." If there had ever been any doubt before that night, it was gone by the time the sun rose the next morning.

"So?" Blaine persists. "We could go to a club, or we could buy a bottle of wine and get really drunk on the roof, or we could have sex in a semi-public area..." he trails off, wracking his brain for other options. Kurt watches him closely, an expression of mingled frustration and amusement on his face.

"Wine on the roof sounds kind of nice," Kurt concedes. They have a great view of the city from the roof of their building. "And I suppose the sex, too. If you're lucky."

Blaine grins, daring to place his hands on Kurt's waist. "Our hallway is a semi-public area, you know."

"Is it?" Kurt murmurs, leaning in ever so slightly and allowing Blaine to kiss him.

Blaine nods, spinning them so that Kurt's pressed up against the (still firmly locked) door and moving his lips to Kurt's jaw.

Kurt sighs, hands trailing down Blaine's back and slipping into the back pockets of his pants. Blaine hums his approval.

"Hey, Blaine?" Kurt says, squeezing Blaine's ass and arching his hips forward.

"Hmm?"

"I found it." He withdraws a hand from Blaine's back pocket and holds up a silver key.

Blaine stares.

"I guess I forgot to check there," he says sheepishly.

"Clearly," Kurt agrees, rolling his eyes.

"So, no semi-public sex, then?"

He sounds a little disappointed.

Kurt steps forward, till their bodies are close and he's speaking directly into Blaine's ear. "No, before this little adventure interfered I was hoping to have you fuck me in the privacy of our own home. On the kitchen table, perhaps?"

Blaine's eyes darken and he makes a noise that's somewhere between a growl and a groan.

Kurt smirks and turns to unlock the door. This time, it's Blaine's breath hot on the back of his neck.

As the door swings open and Blaine pushes him across the threshold, Kurt glances over his shoulder and adds, almost as an afterthought:

"But maybe we can make it up to the roof for round two. We have all night, after all."