Author's Note: I was talking to Misty and this happened. It's probably going to end up being a verse.
"Honestly, Blaine, now that I've gotten all of my bitching out, I don't even care anymore. Thank you," Kurt said as he accepted the glass of tea his boyfriend offered him. "Sebastian just... I don't know. He's harmless." He grinned as Blaine sat down with a huff.
"Yeah, well, he's still a punk kid eyeing my boyfriend, so forgive me if I see him as a threat."
Kurt smirked at him, setting glass on the coffee table before straddling Blaine's lap. He began peppering his face with kisses before sucking Blaine's pouting bottom lip into his mouth. Blaine finally caved, his arms uncrossing and his large hands coming up to grip Kurt's waist.
"It's not really a threat when no one could take me from you," Kurt murmured, pulling back slightly and resting their foreheads against each other. Blaine growled, easily lifting Kurt as he stood and carried him across his spacious apartment. "That's so hot," Kurt giggled as he held on.
"Oh, now it's hot," Blaine jokingly complained as he laid Kurt on his bed and covered his body with his own. "Does that mean you'll stop complaining when I go to the gym after I get off work?"
Kurt pulled him down to nip at his lips. "I'll consider it, now that I know the benefits."
Blaine rolled his hips down, grinding their cocks together roughly in punishment. "Rude. I thought my hot body was enough."
Kurt gasped, his head starting to tilt back. "Less talking, more fooling around."
Kurt grinned, his nose wrinkling up the way it did when he was really happy. "You love me."
"You're very much right."
"Sebastian, I told you, I have a boyfriend," Kurt sighed exasperatedly as he closed his locker door. The other boy was leaning casually against the one next to him, a little too close for Kurt's comfort.
"And I told you, it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you."
Kurt rolled his eyes and turned, walking to his next class. There was the telltale click of Sebastian's polished loafers against the hardwood floor as he followed.
"So who is he?"
"His name is Blaine Anderson."
Sebastian's brow furrowed as he wracked his brain, trying to remember if a student by that name was at Dalton. "What school does he go to?"
Kurt let out a snort that had their French teacher looking up as they entered her room. "Bonjour!"
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Graceson," they parroted back as they took their seats and waited for class to start.
"Why did you snort? What's so funny?" Sebastian pressed.
"Because Blaine already graduated," Kurt replied vaguely, pulling out his textbook.
"What, like last year or something?"
"Definitely 'or something.'"
"I don't believe you," Sebastian said after staring at Kurt for a minute. "You're totally making this guy up."
Before Kurt could retort, class was starting and Sebastian just smirked at him whenever he tried to explain himself after that. He finally gave up after the other boy made some lewd remark about playing hard to get. He was just glad there wasn't a Warbler rehearsal that afternoon, meaning he was free to leave right after his last class.
He was digging through his bag as he made his way over to his Navigator, trying up find his phone, when a low whistle cut through the air. Kurt's head flew up in surprise, fully expecting it to be Sebastian.
"Blaine!" Kurt hurried across the parking lot to where his boyfriend was leaning against his black 1977 Trans Am, wearing a tight white polo and dark blue jeans. He threw himself into Blaine's arms, kissing him thoroughly.
"Mm, looks like someone missed me," Blaine teased, his arms wrapped tightly around Kurt's waist, settling them so that he was leaning against the car and his thigh was wedged between Kurt's legs.
He brought one hand up, tugging at the red and blue striped tie around Kurt's neck. "I hate this thing, and that shirt. Covers up my handiwork." A clatter and a yell from the field behind Kurt drew his attention as Kurt loosed his tie further.
"It's a good thing that it does," Kurt groused. "My dad already has so many reservations about me dating a guy a couple of years younger than him; I really don't need him seeing my neck covered in hickeys."
Blaine let out a snort just as he spotted the kid. He was tall and lean and, yeah, he did kind of look like a meerkat, but most importantly, he was squinting in their direction while the rest of the lacrosse team started stretching. He let his hands move down, gripping Kurt's glorious ass.
"Hey!" Kurt mock glared at him, but made no move to dislodge his hands.
"What?" Blaine asked innocently, his eyes flicking to the boy, to Sebastian. One hand began tracing the seam of Kurt's trousers as the other gripped his cheek.
"Blaine." Kurt let out a whine, grinding against his thigh.
His eyes caught Sebastian's as he leaned in, attaching his lips to the long, pale column of Kurt's neck. Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise as he finally recognized Kurt, whose head was throw back. Blaine ruthlessly exploited every area he knew from their nearly year long relationship to make Kurt pant and moan. His fingers pressed against Kurt's hole through the thick fabric of his trousers, making Kurt shudder and pull away, smacking him on the shoulder.
"I know you're into exhibitionism, old man, but I'm not there yet," Kurt said breathlessly. He let out yelp when Blaine smacked his ass and straightened up.
"You whippersnappers these days, unwilling to try new kinks." Kurt stuck out his tongue, pulling his tie even looser, but Blaine stopped him. "Leave it and come over to my house."
Kurt stared at him for a moment, his face flushed as the meaning behind the words sunk in. "Oh..."
Two fingers under Kurt's chin guided his face to Blaine's for a slow sweet kiss. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, okay." Kurt's voice had become breathless again, eyes bright as he took a step back from Blaine. "Let's- yeah, let's go to your house."
Blaine practically beamed at him, shooing him to his own car as he dug his keys out of the pocket of his sinfully tight jeans. Just before he ducked inside his car, Blaine looked back at the field, catching Sebastian's eyes and smirking at the gobsmacked look on his face.