Blaine hates the winter. He's cold. That bone-deep, aching kind of cold that makes him want to just stop walking in the middle of the New York sidewalk and breathe until he can get warm again, but luckily his self-preservation instinct is stronger than that, and he's really not in the mood to be hit round the shins by high-fliers with designer suits, or round the head by old ladies with designer handbags, so he keeps moving. He pauses when he gets to the door, his world-weary sigh misting in front of his mouth as he reluctantly pulls his hands from where they're shoved deep into pockets, rummaging in his bag for the keys and damn why did it have to be today that he didn't bother with gloves? He manages, finally, to get the key in the lock with his cold-clumsy fingers, turning it quickly, shouldering the door open, and cursing when it refuses to come out. He grits his teeth in frustration, an almost-growl slipping out from between them, and he's about to give up entirely when Kurt emerges from the kitchen, eyebrows arched with amusement.
"Having trouble with the door, darling?" Blaine's posture slumps in defeat, and he lets his face slip into a pout.
"It's cold," and his voice would sound more petulant if it weren't for the quick chatter of his teeth.
"Oh, come here, sweetheart – just leave your stuff by the door and get inside – I'll sort this out," he says, sliding the key easily from the lock and shutting the door, a flush high on his cheeks from standing over the hob, Blaine deduces from the rich, spicy smell wafting through the flat.
"You want cuddles – I know," Kurt interrupts. "Let me just check on the curry – go settle on the sofa. And take some layers off – you know you warm up faster when you're naked," he winks, bustling Blaine into their handkerchief-sized living room. Blaine shrugs out of his coat with a shiver, curling himself into the tightest ball he can. He jumps at the unexpected hand on his. "Oh, Blaine, you're freezing! Come here!" Kurt's barely situated himself on the couch before Blaine's practically leaping onto his lap. Kurt can't help but giggle as he feels an ice cold nose seemingly trying to burrow itself into the juncture between his shoulder and his neck. He runs a hand soothingly through Blaine's cool curls. "We'll have you warm in no time." He lets his voice slip lower, and Blaine's suddenly very aware of certain body parts pressing into certain other body parts. And so, apparently, is Kurt. Oh.
Blaine turns his nuzzling into chaste little kisses along Kurt's clavicle, which soon evolve into sloppy, open mouthed ones with too much teeth, and it's not long before Kurt starts to pant under him, fingers tangling in and tugging at his hair. Blaine trails his lips up to Kurt's, pausing for a moment to admire his rosy cheeks, the shadows cast by his fluttering eyelashes, before pressing their mouths together. He submits to Kurt's very thorough exploration, both by his tongue and his wandering hands, enjoying the heat curling low in his belly. Both their shirts end up rucked under their arms, and Blaine would be honestly astonished at the warmth of the slip and slide and press of bare skin on skin if he could think about anything other than the slender fingers reaching down the back of his jeans, kneading at the soft flesh of his ass and making him whimper into Kurt's mouth.
"Kurt, please- I …" Kurt smirks.
"Let's get you out of these pants, eh?" But Blaine's enthusiastic noise of consent turns into one of confusion, then almost desperation, as the timer in the kitchen starts to beep.
"… Curry's ready," Kurt mutters, very much occupied with swirling his tongue around Blaine's left nipple. "I should … probably …"
"N-ungh … no," Blaine chokes out, "it's fine we don't need … we don't need curry … just please-"
"We don't have to eat right now – give me thirty seconds to take it off the heat."
"Twenty-five and you've got a deal – I'll grab lube too." Blaine's honestly too wrecked to protest as Kurt scrambles out from under him, somehow managing to shuck his shirt on the floor whilst simultaneously legging it into the kitchen.
"Don't get too cold without me!" He yells over his shoulder.
"As long as you're here to warm me up, I'll be fine!" Blaine calls back, regaining the presence of mind to undo the zipper on his jeans and start wriggling out of them.
Maybe winter isn't so bad after all.
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