"I want you naked." It's slurred ever so slightly and too loud in the entrance hall to their own apartment.

Kurt is drunk.

Kurt works his hands down between them. "You know—" His hands lose their purchase and he forgets what he was saying.

He is so drunk.

"You look amazing but I…I can't—"

But he shouldn't be this drunk. Maybe he's love-drunk. Or sex-drunk. Or horny-because-Blaine-sat-too-close-in-the-cab drunk.

Kurt's hands scrabble around Blaine's back, pulling at the spandex, nails scratching to find something, anything, that will get this costume off. Faintly, Blaine knows there's a zip somewhere but mostly he's concentrating on breathing and not laughing out loud.

Somehow Kurt knows and he growls, his mouth finding Blaine's and nipping at his bottom lip in reprimand.

"I want—" Kurt cuts himself off, leaning forward and pushing their bodies together and back against the wall, kissing the corner of Blaine's mouth because he missed and sliding his tongue out to trace the seam and then push inside, licking over Blaine's teeth and finding him grinning and teasing and playful in the kiss.

"Blaine…" Kurt growls his name and angles his head and kisses him properly, tongue and lips wet and punishing as he steps into the bracket of Blaine's legs and rocks hard against him. "You want me," he accuses, Blaine's cock hard against his thigh.

Now Blaine does laugh, "Of course I —"

"Then get out of the suit!" Kurt yells, exasperated.

Blaine nearly elbows Kurt in the face trying to reach behind and find the hidden zipper; it doesn't deter Kurt from his mission to bite marks into Blaine's neck, mouth sucking the material of the cape just as often as the sweat-damp skin of Blaine's throat.

"Wanna make you come," Kurt mutters. "God, you can't just wear spandex all night and expect me not to drink."

Blaine chuckles but makes no headway on getting out of said spandex. "I thought we were over the whole sex-crazed teenagers thing."

At their age they really should be.

"Yeah, then you wore spandex." Kurt has a hand wrapped around Blaine's dick, working him roughly through the material and it shouldn't feel anywhere near this good but it does. "Wanna make you come so bad."

Blaine giggles and is about to tell Kurt that there's no getting out of the suit when there's the crack of Kurt's knees hitting the floor and the sound of a sucked in breath.

"Jesus."

"What?" Blaine stares down.

He can hear—through all of his inebriation and the thrum of sex and vodka in his blood—the sound of Kurt swallowing. And, looking down, he can watch as Kurt traces his fingers along the length of Blaine's fully hard cock.

"You look really, really, really good in spandex."

Blaine's about to protest, explain he bought the Robin suit as kind of a joke but then the honey-slow idea occurs to him: that Kurt is referring rather specifically to his cock, and he's bending forward to try to see.

Kurt's already seen. The hard, obvious outline of Blaine through the red, skin-tight material, pressing up in a straight line from balls towards his belly button.

How was he packing that all night and no one noticed? How did no one ravage him?

It seems too obvious now and Kurt pulls the red material aside so it's just the green, even tighter, material there and he's probably stretching out the leg of the suit but he doesn't care. He leans forward, hot breath ghosting up Blaine's thigh, fingertips of his other hand touching slowly, tracing the line of him and down to his balls, testing the access and then wrapping around, stretching the material all the way around and pulling Blaine's cock away from his body.

There's already a dark green stain at the tip of Blaine's cock and Kurt can feel his own stomach knot with wanting it. He sucks around the head, once hard, tongue licking over to get at the taste. Precome and sweat and material.

Above him, Blaine's hands twist into his hair and he groans.

This is stupidly hot.

Kurt uses his mouth the best he can, running his lips down the side and trying to double the magnitude of every move because the material must be dulling things. Sucking harder, licking harder, dropping his mouth to where Blaine's balls are drawn up tight and then running his thumb back, pulling the material taut up against the crack of Blaine's ass so he can suck a ball halfway into his mouth and listen to Blaine's moan.

Kurt mouths back up, his thumb pulling the spandex even tighter and putting pressure against Blaine's hole, threatening to dip—too-dry and cloth-covered—inside. It's hot anyway and Blaine's thighs tremble as he calls Kurt's name.

Sucking up the length of him once more, Kurt pulls back and looks up briefly, seeing if Blaine actually wants anything important. And then he takes the time to survey the damage. The spit-wet darker green of the suit all round Blaine's cock, the slightly different-shade of wet-green where Blaine's still leaking, the obscene outline of cock and balls pulled tight and hard against the material. Kurt has to swallow because it's hot and ridiculous and if he overthinks things, he will probably laugh.

Instead he swoops back down, kissing up the underside and sucking at the head, tongue flicking out against that one spot that makes Blaine squirm.

"Jesus Kurt, I'm—" Blaine trails off in a whine as Kurt's finger circles his hole again and his lips twist perfectly. "Not gonna last."

Kurt just grins in response, sucking hard, rubbing hard back over Blaine's hole and then sliding his hand up to tease at his balls and slide up his length. He hums through the material and nuzzles closer, sucking the whole cloth-covered head into his mouth and working his lips, his tongue, while his hand keeps stroking.

"Kurt—" Blaine doesn't even know why he's calling him but he's close, embarrassingly close, but he had a lot to drink and they've been kind of too busy to do these things lately and Kurt on his knees, Blaine in his Robin suit, is kinkily hot and he'll come now and last for ages the next round and, "Kurt!"

Kurt feels the throb of Blaine's dick under his hand and sucks harder. He feels Blaine's hips arch up and his fingers tighten towards pain in his hair and he tastes the seep of hot, salty come on his tongue. He keeps sucking through, pulling the liquid out of Blaine's cock and through the material as Blaine pants and twists above him.

There's a shake in Blaine's legs and a whimper in his breath and Kurt should pull back and catch him as he falls, literally, but he sucks one more time, lips pulling heavily over the arch of the head of Blaine's cock and down the length, Kurt's hands feeling out balls and ass before he pulls back slowly.

When he looks up, Blaine is, indeed, swaying, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded, his fingers slowly untangling from Kurt's hair. "Shit," is all he mumbles before sliding down the wall, legs spread and bent at the knees, Kurt knelt between them and trying not to stare and the patch of wetness that's now covering the outline of Blaine's semi-hard cock.

When Kurt does pull his gaze up, Blaine's head has dropped so Kurt's faced with only his curls and the assumption he's almost asleep. "Come on," Kurt says, standing up and ignoring his own painfully hard cock. "Now I really need to get you out of this and into bed."

Blaine just mumbles something and Kurt thinks he hears "round two" and that makes him giggle because Blaine's almost snoring. "Up!" Kurt demands, grabbing Blaine's hands and hauling him up.

They navigate the hallway to their bedroom leaning against each other, Kurt flicking on lights as they go and trying to adjust his cock so it doesn't throb with wanting. Unlooping his arm from Blaine's waist at the foot of the bed, Kurt just laughs as his boyfriend falls face first, cape billowing behind him, onto the mattress.

Blaine mumbles something that could be "I love you," or "Thank you," or "My dick's sticky," Kurt isn't quite sure, and then wriggles up the mattress a little. Kurt sighs, wondering just how inappropriate jerking off in the bathroom would be compared with jerking off next to his soon-to-be-snoring boyfriend. And that's when he catches sight of Blaine's ass, perfectly pert and round and exactly where Kurt wants to be. And encased in pulled-even-tighter red spandex.

Kurt's cock throbs and he begins to wonder if he's somehow managed to develop a superhero fetish.