Notes: Hello! This fic is inspired by the song Body Ash by The Zolas. I suggest giving it a listen, it's a brillaint, brilliant song. They're one of my favourite bands.

If any of you have requests or prompts, or any songs you'd like me to write a fic after please send me a message!

Edit: I reuploaded all parts into one document, as this was meant to be a one shot anyway. I apologize for being so disorganized! I hope you enjoy it. :D

Blaine was catapulted into consciousness, his body shuddering in astonishment; however, the spasm did not interrupt the cause of his wakening; a morning-warm tongue that was whirling inside his ear. Heart hammering, he began to breathe deeply in attempt to calm himself down.

"Kurt," he groaned, rolling over to knock away the man that had attached to him like a leech. His eyes were still closed when he felt lips begin to suckle on his other ear. Blaine lazily opened his eyes, blinking forcefully to clear his vision. All he could see was the pristine curve of Kurt's neck and shoulder.

Another grumble broke from his lips. "Kurt. Kurt. I just woke up." He slurred; voice like the surface of Mercury.

"So did I," the sleepy whisper tickled in his ear.

"Actually, you woke me up. …Never mind, I'm still asleep."

He shut his eyes again, pushing his head deeper into the pillow. "Hey, do you have any recollection of last night? I won't be able to go again for a month, thanks." He mumbled jokingly.

Kurt sighed behind closed lips. "Then I guess I'll make it easier for you,"

Blaine relaxed when Kurt removed himself, and prepared to go back to sleep, though his heart still pounded enthusiastically from his frightful wakeni – "Wait, what?"

Propping himself up on his elbow, he saw Kurt kneeling at the end of the bed, in nothing but silk lilac pyjama bottoms, hair undone. Oh. He saw pale fingers hook around the band of his own plaid trousers, saw them graze against his hips and upper thighs. The last thing he saw was Kurt wrapping his hand around him—then Blaine's eyes rolled back into his head and everything became oh.

"We've only been living together for a week," said Blaine disbelievingly as he sat quite calmly at their kitchen-and-dining table, drinking orange juice. "A week, Kurt. If this is any indication of how the rest of our lives is going to be ..." he paused, bringing the glass to his lips. "...well, I'm in for a wild ride." He shook his head as though pitying himself.

Kurt emerged from their bedroom, not even half dressed. His cornflower blue shirt hung open over white briefs, a tie hanging around his neck and grey slacks folded over his arm. Blaine always loved that shade of blue against his pearly skin, the blue of Kurt's eyes. He nearly choked, swallowing too quickly, yet managed to hide that his throat was now burning from acidic juice.

"What kind of tone was that? Shouldn't you be calling yourself lucky?" he laughed at Blaine's pun anyway, buttoning his shirt.

"Trust me," Blaine stared into his eyes until the other grew pink and averted his gaze. Three years of being together and that still happened, three years and Blaine still lost his breath when it did. "I do."

Kurt bowed his head and smiled coquettishly, finishing his shirt and bending over to step into his pants. The movements were watched carefully by the man at the table, who slid a little in his chair as Kurt stood straight up and pushed back the bangs that had fallen into his eyes, as he turned his hips while zipping the fly, trying to gain comfort.

Though Blaine was worried they wouldn't get their favourite seats in the campus library if Kurt continued to spend so much time on his appearance, he certainly wasn't complaining. Reflexively, his teeth lightly clamped onto his lower lip as he got lost in the arcs of Kurt's fingers while they tied the silver strip of fabric round his neck. He felt a small twitch in his pants and cringed-like he'd told Kurt, he was spent for at least a month. He cleared his throat, tried to shake unhelpful images from his head.

"Ready yet?" he asked, standing from the table and placing his glass in the sink.

"Mhm, almost." he went to get his book bag as Blaine threw his own over his shoulder. They met at the door, and though leaving together, kissed once before making their way out.

Their favourite seats in the campus library, luckily, had still been vacant when they arrived. They were in the very middle of the room by the back wall, flanking a large window and situated behind a coffee table. Looking out the window, Blaine leaned back in his chair, draining the Starbucks cup he'd insisted picking up on the way there.

"It looks nice outside," he commented.

Kurt remained absorbed in the notebook on his knee, carefully scribing notes with fluidity. "I heard it's supposed to rain," he said, blasé, not lifting his head.

A mix of minor irritation and hurt washed through Blaine, though he knew it was unnecessary. He set the empty cup down on the table and picked up his textbook, opening it to the correct page but not getting very far with reading. His finger rested at the corner of the pages, ready to flip one over, but his focus was captured by the oblivious man across from him.

All weekend, every bit of Kurt's attention and body had been on Blaine, and having all of it suddenly revoked was tantalizing. It was like a challenge now to somehow entice Kurt, who had previously been the one doing all of the effortless seduction.

Correction—Kurt was still seducing Blaine without attempt or intent. He watched the angelic face scrunch into a frown. Kurt stuck the end of his pen between his lips before bending down into his book bag, retrieving a bottle of liquid paper. The movement pulled his shirt tightly across his chest and biceps, accenting the muscles with alternating patterns of smooth, taut fabric and harsh creases.

Absentmindedly, Blaine's finger began to rub the pages where it lay. Kurt's eyes fixed on his notebook as he meticulously unscrewed the cap and brushed the solution over his mistake in one smooth, perfect line; while Blaine's eyes glued to the supple shape of Kurt's lips moulded around the pen, pink and absolutely flawless, audaciously reminding him of early this morning.

"Ah," Blaine inhaled sharply through his teeth. His finger had slipped on the book, and a thin scarlet line bloomed on the tip, quickly bubbling into a drop and trickling down his knuckle.

"Are you okay? What happened?" asked Kurt, taking the pen out of his mouth.

"Oh, just accidentally cut my finger is all." he chuckled with embarrassment and looked away, positive his face had already been red from ogling at his boyfriend. He was also positive his cheeks hadn't been the only place where blood had rushed.

Instinctively, Blaine licked the scarlet trail up his finger and proceeded to wrap his lips around the tip, sucking on the wound.

Kurt's breath caught—he swiftly moved everything from his lap to the coffee table, digging through his bag for a sanitary towelette and bandage. "H-here," he stammered. "Let me clean that for you."

"Are you serious? It's nothing, I'm fine." said Blaine, raising his eyebrows, finger adorably hanging on his lip.

"Oh don't act so surprised, you know me by now. We don't want an infection." he said, getting up while tearing open the package. Perching himself on the edge of the table before Blaine, he grabbed his hand and wiped the cut evenly.

"Only you could get it that deep," Kurt commented, and Blaine almost failed in repressing an immature laugh, choking on it instead. The noise was not unheard. "What is up with you today?" asked Kurt, looking upward with amused eyes and a crooked smile.

"Me?" he countered incredulously. "You. You're what's up. There aren't even words for this, anymore." He shook his head.

Kurt looked mildly surprised, opening and closing his mouth, glancing at everything but Blaine as though trying to deny what he'd just said, all the while preparing the bandage. He swathed it precisely over the cut, then bowed his head to peck it lightly.

"That wasn't so painful, now, was it?" he raised his eyebrows to say I'm right, aren't I, of course I am.

Blaine just smiled and stared at him fondly. "I love you,"

"I love you," the blue eyes softened.

Then Blaine saw a light bulb go on in Kurt's head, his eyes narrowing as a small but dangerous smile came across his face. Instantly, he was wary. Memories of the past twenty-four hours had all begun with that look.

"You want to go to the washroom?" he whispered, tilting his head.

Whatever brain was left inside Blaine's head busted, and the wreckage splattered all over his own face. Kurt giggled at his boyfriend's priceless expression.

"You're kidding, right, Kurt?" he felt breathless just thinking about doing that again, so soon, so … publicly. Could they even—how would they—was it possible to keep their volume low?

The man's shoulders fell a little and his eyes cast to the floor, but the cheekiness had not entirely faded. Even quieter, he suggested "Or we could go home…"

Blaine seemed to be settling down, like sand in water after the initial stir. He looked at Kurt's lips and found the answer written all over them, stamped into the sheer creases.

Yes. It didn't hit the air between them, but some sort of reaction happened all the same. Synchronized, they stood, hurriedly collecting their things and nearly skipping out of the building hand in hand.

Raindrops were just beginning to speckle the ground when they stepped outside, proving Kurt right yet again. It was not a long walk back, but the rain rapidly grew to a steady downpour and they were dripping wet by the halfway point. People around them ran maniacally in all directions for cover, and when Kurt and Blaine were too blinded by the water, they too ducked into the nearest roofed alleyway.

When they could properly see each other, giggles erupted. Blaine's curls dragged heavily down the sides of his face, one lock in particular dangled down his forehead; it was super sexy, actually. Droplets were caught in his eyelashes and Blaine blinked fast while laughing, but they didn't all go away, but Kurt didn't want them to.

"Oh, my hair," he jokingly whined, leaning against the brick wall. He could feel it plastered down to his brow, as well.

Blaine sauntered up to him and raised a hand to slick black Kurt's fringe, staring into his eyes. Beneath the roof the rain strongly drummed, and their breath felt fresh, sounded clear in their little pocket of stillness. Kurt nervously glanced to the alleyway entrance from where they'd come, but the rain was like a curtain, blurring all on the other side.

"Kiss me," he ordered, and Blaine leaned in.

But boycotted his face entirely, and instead began to slide his lips wetly down the exposed part of Kurt's neck, over the shirt collar and onto the spot just above his collarbone. Blaine began to suck at Kurt's skin through the fabric, tasting rain and fabric softener.

Kurt's head titled back against the wall, Blaine's mouth hot and wet against his already soaked shirt, and now his whole body was being pressed into the bricks by the other's torso, the hands of which fervently grabbed at his waist, pinning him there. He licked his lips, hating how suddenly cold and naked they felt in comparison to the rest of his body.

"Ah, I can't breathe," gasped Kurt, blinking water from his eyes. "God, Blaine, do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Keeping their bodies compacted together, Blaine pulled away just his head to give Kurt a superior stare, almost snorting. He brought his open lips right up to Kurt's, so they were just touching, the contact light as a feather.

"Well, revenge never tasted so sweet," he breathed into the other's mouth, before slipping his tongue just inside it. They kissed very, very tenderly, and even when they began to kiss very, very hard it still felt soft. They would later conclude that wetter undeniably meant better.

Getting hard, Blaine grinded his pelvis into Kurt's, rhythmically and leisurely until they both had full erections restricted by tight pants. Though it pained him, he had a feeling he'd be more sore ignoring their desires. He released Kurt's waist to grab at the shirt collar, managing to push one button through the hole before the other man stopped him.

Kurt gently pushed him away. "Blaine, you are sorely mistaken if you think I'm going to do the dirty in this dirty." he said bluntly. "I'm already afraid to see the snag damage on the back of this shirt."

Fond laughter crinkled Blaine's honey eyes, and he leaned back in, touching their foreheads. "Let's run home, then, Hummel. I don't think I can wait much longer," he said challengingly.

Kurt looked down between them at their still-touching groins, then back up to Blaine with horror. "With these?" he hissed.

"No one will see, they're focused on the rain, despite which I couldn't cool down if I tried, anyway. Or I could buy you ten more of those shirts. It's my favourite one on you, you know."

His eyes narrowed, but he smiled. "Alright, let's hurry,"

They clasped hands and ventured back out into the downpour, laughter pattering with the rain and their smacking footsteps on the wet sidewalk until they were unable to breathe. As soon as they were within the building and the elevator doors closed them in, they slammed against its walls, fanatically kissing and tugging one another. Kurt slipped on his wet shoes between Blaine's legs, banging his head on the handrail, and in an unsuccessful attempt to catch him, Blaine too slipped and toppled onto Kurt—all in a matter of seconds.

"Oww, oh my god," exclaimed Kurt in disbelief, while Blaine uttered an oof. "That did not just happen," Their laughter exploded even louder, their sides splitting in absolute agony as they rolled on the floor, unable to get up. With supreme effort, they managed to attain vertical status, though drunkenly travelled down the hall and entered their apartment.

Kurt shut the door behind them and was jumped by Blaine, who resumed the removal of his shirt. "I feel like we're in high school again," he giggled.

"I certainly hope not," breathed Blaine. "'Cause then we'd stop in about five seconds and start to watch Chicago fully clothed with your bedroom door open."

Kurt ignored this and bit Blaine's bottom lip, while reaching around to pull the boy's shirt over his head. He then pressed his fingertips onto his naked chest and directed him straight to their couch.

"Sit on the floor," he said, undoing his fly, and Blaine obeyed—excitement and eagerness coursed through their bodies. He difficultly wriggled out of his wet pants and kicked them out of the way, standing inches before Blaine, who was propped against the couch. Kurt's hard on was much more noticeable now, concealed only by a thin layer of cotton, which had also been saturated. Blaine pulled the briefs down, releasing Kurt's length, and brought it to his lips.

He licked the head once with the full of his tongue, thinking back to the end of high school and the first time he'd done this. It was just as exciting every time since then, just as perfect, just as right. He began to circle the head with his tongue affectionately, harmoniously rubbing his fist up and down the shaft.

Moans rippled up Kurt's throat as Blaine started to suck him off, and he knotted his fingers into the dark hair, delicately pushing his hips forward. Blaine began to gag as Kurt's cock touched the back of his throat, but it still wasn't enough. His chest heaved as he deeply inhaled through his nose, letting Kurt shove himself back and forth over his tongue.

Kurt was revelling in the sight of Blaine's red lips tightly closed around him, but ceased his movements when he realized he was having trouble breathing—though he always had trouble breathing whenever they got intimate. A string of drool connected Kurt to Blaine's mouth as he pulled out. Kurt couldn't help but find it cute—Blaine looked so innocent.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, unintentionally breaking the string.

"I don't want to kill you, believe it or not," Kurt responded. Their voices were low and weak, their heads warm and filled with something stronger than water.

"It's much too late for that," said Blaine, as Kurt knelt down to straddle him, pinning him against the couch. "You kill me, Kurt."

"That's romantic," he whispered sardonically, licking up the bit of drool under Blaine's bottom him, then silencing him with a deep kiss. Eyes closed, Kurt reached down, skilfully undoing Blaine's pants, and took both of their cocks in his hand, stroking them together. Beneath him Blaine writhed, groaned low notes into his mouth.

Overhead, thunder roared and rumbled as Blaine broke the kiss and moaned in chorus. "It's a beautiful death," he explained just as quietly, breathless, planting rows of kisses along his neck and jaw line. "To die for the one I love."

Kurt hummed through a smile, he was certainly dead, he thought, or dreaming, nothing in real life ever felt this good. Fingers fanned onto his ribs like wings, and he was lifted up slightly, being pushed onto the floor. Blaine stood, discarded the rest of his clothing, and positioned himself over Kurt's reclining form, meshing their cool, wet bodies that glistened in the hazy grey light from outside.

Blaine picked up the rhythm they'd commenced in the alleyway. The rain left on their bodies made the friction easy.

"Just get in me," Kurt whimpered. "Hurry, oh god,"

Blaine crawled back onto his knees, and aligned himself with Kurt's entrance. He was just beginning to gently push past the warm, soft ring of skin, eager, when Kurt said, "Wait,"

He froze. "What?" Pain pulsed throughout his body from his groin like wildfire, seizing and frying the nerves out to his fingers and toes. He was literally on the edge, not able to take it anymore. "You're kidding me, what?"

They looked each other in the eyes: Blaine's aggrieved and desperate, Kurt's mischievous—of who began to giggle.

"Oh you! Oh, you're gonna get it now, Hummel," he growled.

He was still rascally smiling when Blaine thrust forward, fully slipping inside Kurt, snapping the smile into a gasp. The pale man's lower back lifted from the floor, gracefully like a ballet dancer despite the rough drive. Blaine faintly grunted as he pushed himself in and out of Kurt, it was almost like he was purring in the other's ear, whose pearly knees drew up and palms pressed violently into the carpet.

"How—can—you do that—to me," Blaine's voice was strained.

'Unh … because it makes you do this," he replied, "Unh, oh…"

It was the most unusual sensation, their skin wet and cool in some places but most definitely hot in others, and when they began to sweat it became impossible to tell what arm or heartbeat belonged to whom, they were the ocean seamlessly meeting the sky, their vocal chords were one and the same.

Kurt raised his head and grabbed the back of Blaine's, looping his fingers through the damp curls, caught his earlobe between his teeth and dragged them over it not-so-gently while thrusting his hips upward to meet each of Blaine's. He closed his eyes and adhered his lips to just under Blaine's jaw like a leech, feeling the blood pulse hot and in frenzy.

At the rate they were going, Kurt knew he wasn't going to last much longer. His body became weightless as the familiar feeling of pleasure and anticipation rocked him higher and higher, prematurely shivering before coming with violent shudders between them, moaning breathlessly. Blaine pulled out and bent over Kurt's quickly rising and falling stomach, slowly licking a straight line through the warm cum.

Blaine licked his lips and reached above Kurt's head, grabbing his discarded shirt to wipe Kurt's cum off the both of them, then threw it away again. Though he was still rather hard, he lied down beside Kurt and they panted together while holding hands, hearts pounding wildly in every part of their bodies. Thunder rolled.

An exhausted groan escaped Blaine's mouth after a minute, but he smiled. "You want to get in the shower?" he offered, welcoming the idea himself.

"No," replied Kurt windlessly, a smile dancing on the corner of his lips. "I'm not done yet," and he rolled over onto the other.