The restaurant was just as Kurt had expected. The idle chatter of the fellow diners feathered the air of the venue along with the tinker of cutlery as people continued to enjoy their elaborate meals. The band played smooth jazz and the delicate chandelier was dimmed down enough that the candles danced and flickered seductively on the mahogany tables, casting odd shadows and glimmering against the expensive tableware. It was definitely the nicest restaurant Kurt had ever been in. But despite the fact that Blaine had clearly pulled out all the stops to make this evening special, Kurt couldn't, or wouldn't, lift his bad mood.

He shot Blaine a sharp look across the table as he reached for his drink and downed the rest of its bitter alcoholic substance. He brought the glass down onto the table again with a clang, ice chiming against the circumference of the crystal.

"I'm getting another drink," he declared before turning in his seat and catching the eye of a wandering waiter. He ordered the same again and Blaine heaved a frustrated sigh, which invited another prickly look from Kurt. Blaine's eyes were hard and unyielding, his dark brow furrowed in annoyance but Kurt knew he wouldn't argue back. That would create a scene, and Blaine was too straight-laced for that. Instead his jaw tightened and he continued to observe Kurt critically. The waiter turned to him to take his order but he held up a hand in dismissal and with a simple shake of his head sent the waiter on his way.

If Kurt weren't so mad at Blaine he'd admit that he liked that about him. The fact that he didn't even need to speak to communicate authority. It was something that came naturally to him, in the way he held himself, the perceptive gaze, the reassuring, calm and collected manner and air of control that his time at Dalton had distilled in him. And yet he rarely incarnated that side of himself, perhaps for fear of seeming proud and arrogant, perhaps for fear he would himself turn into a privileged porcelain bird like his peers.

Kurt was sure if the urge struck him Blaine could probably be conceited and selfish but he was too kind and too gentlemanly and believed too much in the goodness of people to ever let himself. But it was always there. It flirted under the surface when Blaine was annoyed, you could see it scorch his body from within, the temper being restrained and controlled. It was in his eyes now as he watched angrily from across the table, searing behind his large brown eyes.

A shiver ran through Kurt at the sight, his heart pounded in excitement. He knew he should feel caution because this was only going to lead to an argument in private, but instead he felt the urging desire to kiss Blaine in all his glorious anger, part his beautiful lips and taste his burning hot tongue, run his hands over the hard muscled plains of his back and chest, wrap himself in the familiar masculine scent of his skin, his cologne, the fabric of his crisp tailored suit. He felt the abrupt need to have Blaine's hands on him, holding his wrists firmly, so tight it hurt. He wanted Blaine's teeth on his skin, on his neck. He wanted Blaine's weight pressed into him, hard, heavy, and overbearingly pleasant.

Kurt was snapped back into the real world by the sound of the waiter coming back and clinking a fresh glass of some bitter, lime-tequila cocktail onto the table in front of him. The sound of jazz came meandering back, along with the chatter and hum of the people around him. The couple at the table next to them rang out in elegant laughter, clearly enjoying the soirée and the atmosphere and each other. Kurt wanted to slap them.

He grabbed at his drink, suddenly remembering that he was meant to be mad. It was all Blaine's fault anyway. It was their anniversary, and this was meant to be a wonderful dinner date. Kurt had been elated with excitement when Blaine had told him he'd booked a table at Les Bouquet Doré, easily one of the best restaurants in the state. Blaine had said he had a Limo booked to pick them up and requested that Kurt wear something smart. Kurt had literally spent days constructing an outfit he deemed perfect for the occasion, an all-black ensemble that looked like a highly fashionised fencing costume complete with fabulous buckles and leather boots.

When he'd seen the Limo pull up outside his house he'd practically fallen over himself to get outside. Standing there, holding the Limousine door open for him, dressed in a tight-fitted black suit with satin lapels and a black satin skinny-tie, stood his boyfriend with a look of mild terror.

"Oh…" was all Blaine had said, eyebrows creased in awkwardness as he peered at the ensemble.

"You don't like it?" Kurt had asked shakily, his self-assurance knocked.

"No, no, it's fine. I just thought you'd wear something a little more….appropriate?" Blaine had struggled to find the word. "It's just that the restaurant isn't quite the place to wear that. Don't you have a suit?"

Kurt's face had flushed crimson in humiliation and he'd gone back inside to change into the suit he'd worn for his dad's wedding. It was a nice suit, smart, expensive and well fitted, but putting it on had made Kurt feel uncomfortable and disappointed, because it wasn't what he'd chosen, and didn't feel like him. The idea that Blaine didn't approve of the clothes he'd picked stung him.

Outside Blaine had extended a hand to him, smiling gratefully, but Kurt had grown increasing annoyed by that point and climbed into the limousine unaided.

Realising that Kurt was upset, Blaine had tried to talk to him about it on the journey, but Kurt hadn't wanted to talk about it, because the dent in his pride was too fresh, he still felt raw and angry, so after Kurt had given him monosyllabic answers and a cold shoulder they'd descended into awkward silence for the rest of the long trip.

Once they'd arrived and been seated at the restaurant, Blaine had once again tried to alleviate the tension by making small talk, but Kurt had responded with noncommittal comments, and ordered alcohol before they'd even been given a menu. Blaine had gone through several stages of alarm and confusion and was now resigned in irritation.

Of course Kurt was cutting off his nose to spite his face, and he knew he was behaving like a child, but insulting his clothes was like slapping him in the face. Blaine might as well have run over his dad and then apologised by sending him the bill for his car to be cleaned. And right now he didn't care how fancy the restaurant was or how hard Blaine was trying; he was affronted and mildly intoxicated.

Kurt gulped down the disgusting drink with a wince and brought the glass back to the table and leered at Blaine challengingly, daring him to say something. The alcohol was leaving him reckless and he wanted to see how far he could push Blaine before he snapped. He knew it wasn't a wise decision to make the situation any worse, the small voice in his head kept telling him that, but the bigger, slightly drunker voice was ignoring that entirely.

It was only fair that Kurt get his own back for the insult to his attire. He didn't want to admit that usually he enjoyed riling Blaine up, that seeing Blaine flustered enough to drop his charm and expose a little bit of his temper left him feeling tight with arousal. But now Kurt was too irate to slip into fantasies of rough, possessive sex and he pushed away the mental images.

Blaine's jaw twitched in agitation and he shook his head in disbelief.

"So you're just going to spend the evening drinking yourself into stupidity and not saying a word to me." It wasn't a question.

"It's no more then you deserve." Kurt said haughtily.

"Why?" Blaine hissed, leaning forward and trying to keep his voice down. "Because I was slightly surprised at your choice of outfit for our date?"

"Slightly surprised? You looked at me like I was some freakin' monster that crawled out of some lagoon somewhere, Blaine."

"I just thought you might wear a suit for an occasion like this, that's all-" Blaine started, but Kurt cut him off.

"When have you ever seen me wear a suit Blaine?"

Blaine raised his hand in silent command and Kurt, in spite of being angry, fell quiet and crossed his arms defiantly.

"Kurt," Blaine started calmly after taking a deep breath, "Can you please explain why you're acting like this? It's really not a big deal-"

"Actually, it is a big deal Blaine," Kurt's voice rose a little too loudly and the happy couple at the neighbouring table looked at them momentarily before awkwardly resuming their own conversation. "I dress the way I do because that is who I am, it's how I express myself. My clothes are important to me like your stupid morals are to you. If you're saying you don't like my clothes you're saying you don't like me. That's not what anyone wants to hear on their anniversary. I spent forever picking that outfit, and you hurt my feelings."

"I didn't intend to hurt your feelings, Kurt-" Kurt cut him off again, much to his growing infuriation.

"No, you just wanted me to wear something that was more appropriate. Do you even care how hard I try to impress you? Of course you don't. All you care about is how you look in front of these people." He gestured to the tables around him. "Admit it, Blaine, you think my clothes are embarrassing."

"Wha-? No!" Blaine protested strongly, his face flushing red and his calm façade slipping. Kurt felt the childish self-satisfaction of triumph, and a fleeting feeling of arousal watching Blaine get hot under the collar. But he pushed the latter away, because it wasn't helping.

"Oh, for God's sake. Just admit it!" Kurt snapped out, getting ready to release a tirade upon Blaine, but Blaine got there first, his temper finally being pushed over the edge.

"Ok, fine." He snapped. "I admit that sometimes I don't get the clothes you wear, because I don't follow fashion like you do. And maybe I was shocked by your outfit, but only because this is our anniversary. It's supposed to be a big deal. You wear elaborate outfits every day. And I love the way you dress. God Kurt, you could wear a sack and still look fantastic. But this isn't a runway."

"Excuse me?" Kurt cut in, a fresh wave of white hot rage flooding him.

Blaine ignored him and continued.

"But the fact is Kurt that this is meant to be a celebration of our time together, and all you care about is your clothes. Yes, I asked you to change, and I'm sorry if that hurt your feelings but I thought what with everything we've been through, how long it took us to get together, how long it took me to get this right, that this needed to be perfect. And you're ruining it just because you can't swallow your pride and-"

Blaine couldn't find the words after that, and his rant trailed off into an exasperated sigh. Kurt's mouth hung open slightly; he didn't know what to say.

Blaine's words stung and Kurt's anger refused to subside, but Blaine was right, he'd cared more about his outfit being insulted then his anniversary, and hearing it said out loud brought that realisation down on him like a slap to the face. Suddenly cutting off his nose to spite his face seemed like the stupidest and most childish thing ever.

Regret and resentment washed over him like an unpleasant sinking sensation and he found it harder to distinguish between the two. He was still angry about the harsh words Blaine had said about him, but they were true and he couldn't deny it. He wanted to apologise and to argue back at the same time, was trying to find the way to say it, trying to form the words that explained his mixed emotions. But he couldn't form the words and eventually the conflicted feelings combined into unspoken confusion, anger and something that weighed heavily like disappointment.

Blaine snatched at the napkin on his lap, scrunched it in his fist and threw it onto the table indignantly.

"I think we should go." He said abruptly. He stood before Kurt could reply and hailed a waiter, explaining that they were leaving and to prepare the bill.

Kurt got numbly to his feet and followed behind towards the reception. They paid in silence and Blaine called for the Limo to be brought around. Blaine hardly looked at him, and suddenly, away from the noise and bustle of the dining area, Kurt felt very exposed, as if all of his angry words were on show for everyone to judge. The anger that had overtaken him throughout the evening seemed oddly distant to him now, as if he'd left it behind at the table, and that here, a stone's throw away, in this open, bright space separated from the gathering of people, the entire thing seemed utterly pathetic.

He felt a tight ball rise in his throat. He was angry, but angry at himself because his pride and attitude had ruined what should have been a wonderful evening. And now Blaine was furious because all of his plans had been ruined.

The Limo appeared outside of the doors and Blaine turned and looked at him – he was still fuming – and gestured for him to follow. Always the gentleman, Blaine held the door open for him, opened the car door and closed it after him, though he did so with a curt slam and a stony face.

Kurt turned his head away from Blaine as he climbed into the seat next to him from the opposite side, fearing to see his angry glare again. The silence was horribly memorable from the journey there, and Kurt hated it. Now he wanted nothing more then to talk, try to explain, apologise, to be forgiven. But Blaine was so angry and he wasn't sure his words would be any good right now. His chest became unbearably tight and his eyes prickled as tears threatened to fall. The silence cut the atmosphere for a while, oppressive and stifling, before Blaine spoke sullenly.

"This entire evening has been a waste. Thank you."

Kurt couldn't bring himself to speak as hot tears silently spilled over his cheeks.

"Oh, of course. Sorry, I didn't realise you'd gone back to ignoring me." Blaine said bitterly.

Kurt couldn't stop the sob that escaped his mouth. Blaine's head shot round in surprise at the noise. He grabbed Kurt's arm firmly, but not forcefully and pulled him around to face him. Kurt looked up at him through his bright teary eyes and Blaine seemed a little caught off guard. Of course he was. In the space of ten minutes Kurt had gone from unabashedly yelling at him to abruptly crying. He felt pathetic.

Kurt let out another sad sob and Blaine swallowed. The anger wasn't wholly gone from his eyes, but it had lessened.

"Kurt-" he sighed the word so disappointedly, so softly and yet full of controlled frustration that Kurt burst into tears.

"Dammit, Kurt. I'm sorry I lost my temper. You…make it really hard for me sometimes." Blaine said taking Kurt's arms and roughly pulling him closer. It was true. It wasn't the first time that Kurt had caused an argument by letting his pride get in the way, but he'd outdone himself this time.

"No, I'm an idiot," Kurt said thickly through the tears. "I acted like such a dick. I was so excited about tonight, and the restaurant, and I ruined the whole thing. Over a stupid outfit that doesn't even matter. You're right, it was a big deal, and I messed it up, and you have every right to hate me."

"I don't hate you. You just drive me a little crazy sometimes." Blaine stated irritably, but not unkindly. Kurt felt some slight relief, and also a twinge of arousal at his words.

"And I wish you didn't look so fucking beautiful when you cry." Blaine added, sweeping Kurt's straying hair back tentatively, a hint of something in his voice.

There was a second of a pause in which the atmosphere changed. A glimpse of something wild flashed in Blaine's eyes before he crushed their lips together in a forceful, possessive kiss. Before Kurt could process what was happening Blaine was forcing his tongue into his mouth, he tasted his own tears as he tried and failed to keep up.

His head went light with the suddenness of it, he felt dazed from the combination of alcohol, shock, his too-recent distress and the instinctive arousal that flared in him. His skin grew hot under his heavy clothes and he felt stifled, he needed air but Blaine was merciless in his assault, sucking at his tongue, lapping him up like he couldn't live without it. Kurt, starting to feel alarmed, dug his fingernails into the fabric of Blaine's sleeve, because now he really was struggling for air.

Blaine groaned and broke the kiss, allowing Kurt to catch his breath.

Kurt could feel the belligerent desire radiating from his boyfriend, in the way he stared at him with eyes that held a silent promise, to take him, take all of him, hold him and lose himself in him. And he felt the blood rushing to his cock as he reeled off the possibilities in his mind, and fuck, he wanted it, wanted all of it. If Blaine wanted angry sex he was down with that. He licked his lips and Blaine groaned, a beautiful sound of impatience and lust that went straight to Kurt's cock and he felt himself getting hard against his pants.

In a swift movement Blaine grabbed at Kurt and hauled him onto his lap so that his back was pushed up against Blaine's chest. He wrapped his hands around Kurt's waist and ran them over his body, over his thighs, his stomach and coming to rest on his aching groin. They both groaned and Blaine began kissing the nape of his neck, softly at first and steadily growing more insistent.

"I want to fuck you, Kurt." Blaine whispered hoarsely against the back of his neck, and Kurt could only moan as the hairs stood on end and sent a shiver down his spine.

Again Blaine brought his lips down onto Kurt's neck, his tongue sweeping the hypersensitive skin as he pushed his muscular body up against him so hard that he could feel Blaine's rigid erection on his ass. His cock twitched below Blaine's hands, which were still cupping and rubbing him, and he bucked up trying to get more pressure.

They stopped at traffic lights and Kurt knew that outside the blacked-out windows people and cars were going past on the streets and sidewalks and he had to reassure himself that they definitely couldn't see what was going on.

Suddenly Blaine's hands left him and he whimpered, desperate for the contact to alleviate the intense throbbing in his suit pants. Blaine grabbed his hips and rocked him back, rolling his own hips up and moaning against the friction as they grinded against each other. Kurt wanted Blaine in him, filling him, his ass clenching instinctively at the thought. He pushed himself down and back against Blaine harder and faster and Blaine's fingers clenched harder into his skin. Soon they were both panting against the frantic thrusting but it wasn't enough.

"Drop your pants." Blaine ordered huskily.

"What about the driver?" Kurt asked, anxiously eyeing the blacked-out window on the other side of the Limo that separated them from the chauffeur in the front.

"Fuck the driver." Blaine breathed against Kurt's ear, causing him to gasp.

Kurt lifted himself off of Blaine's lap slightly and began fumbling with his zipper. Blaine too began unbuttoning and soon their pants were both crumpled around their ankles and Kurt sat back down in Blaine's naked lap. It felt completely bizarre to be half naked in a moving vehicle but the strangeness of it seemed to add to the thrill so he tried to relax.

He rested his palms down on Blaine's thighs, they were firm and covered in soft, fine dark hair and Kurt thrilled at the maleness of it. He could feel the delicate skin of Blaine's hard cock against the small of his back and anticipation ran through him.

Kurt could feel Blaine begin to pump at his cock behind his back, and the other hand came reaching around to grab Kurt's own. Blaine jerked them both off to the same rhythm, his mouth was back at Kurt's neck again, biting and sucking and he whispered things into Kurt's ear like Do you like that baby? and Do you want my dick?

Kurt could hardly concentrate on answering properly thanks to the lingering affects of the alcohol mixed with the heady pleasure of it all.

"Blaine, I need you inside me." Kurt mumbled when it became too much and not enough. He wanted to be stretched out around Blaine's cock, he wanted it hard and fast and now.

Blaine's hand left Kurt and he slipped his fingers into Kurt's hot wet mouth. Kurt sucked and licked and could taste the salty twang of his own dick on them. Blaine removed his fingers and ordered Kurt to lean forward and he was more then happy to obey; shimmying forwards and bending as far as he could, using Blaine's thighs to keep him steady. He gasped with shock when he felt Blaine's slick fingers slide down across his exposed hole, spreading the wetness around, stroking and teasing, before easing a finger into Kurt's ass slowly. Kurt whimpered gratefully as Blaine moved in and out in long agonisingly slow strokes.

"Mmmm, you're so tight." Blaine hummed. It was definitely weird being fingered in a moving car and Kurt had to stop himself laughing because it really wasn't an appropriate time.

Blaine eased in another finger and changed angle, stretching him out. Kurt moaned and dug his fingers in to Blaine's muscular thighs, pushing back on Blaine's fingers more forcibly, trying to fuck himself on them.

"I need it harder, Blaine." He protested, but Blaine just chuckled and continued his slow thrusts, twisting his fingers in deeper.

"We don't have any lube, you need to be as stretched as possible."

Kurt bit down on his lip as Blaine added another finger. His cock was aching painfully now and he took a hand away from Blaine's thigh to stroke himself awkwardly in his bent angle. They continued like that for a while before Kurt growled in frustration, because at this rate he was going to cum in his own hand before Blaine's cock was even inside him, and also because his back was beginning to ache.

Blaine's fingers eased out of him, leaving him feeling wide open, and he heard Blaine spit behind him. It took him a moment to realise that Blaine had spit into his hand and that he was now rubbing it over his cock in preparation.

Kurt straightened up and manoeuvred back, raising himself slightly to position himself over the head of Blaine's dick before lowering himself down and stretching out around him. He winced slightly as he adjusted to Blaine's thickness, saliva not really being an adequate substitute for lube, but he forced himself past the pressure not really caring if it hurt. Blaine's hands dug into his hips again, pulling him down further until he was all the way in, groaning into the back of Kurt's neck again.

"Fuck."

They moved haphazardly for a while as they built up a proper rhythm; it wasn't the easiest position to be fucked in and it took a moment for Kurt to time his grinding correctly. But Kurt wanted it faster, so he begged for it and started to pump at his cock again, desperate to cum. Suddenly Blaine lost control, thrusting up hard while dragging Kurt down, fucking him deeper and harder, and faster, and oh fuck it felt so good. Blaine kept mumbling in his ear, telling him how good he felt and calling him a good little slut. He was close now and wasn't sure if he could last much longer, tried to hold off, tried to think of something other then the way Blaine felt inside him and the throbbing of his cock, but then-

"Cum for me Kurt." Blaine whispered against his ear.

And before Kurt had even made the choice to let go his vision went white and he was clenching around Blaine as his warm cum spilled over his hand.

They stayed in the same position while Kurt came down from his orgasm and the world fell back into place in the aftermath. Without the lust or the desperate desire to climax fogging his mind Kurt was suddenly very aware of his surroundings, the movement of the limo, the sound of traffic outside, the slight alcoholic haze that still remained, the sound of Blaine's harsh breathing at his back.

His boyfriend was still hard and deep inside him but he'd stopped moving. His fingers were still clenched painfully into Kurt's hips and his head rested against his neck. He hadn't cum, Kurt could tell. What was he waiting for?

"Blaine?"

"I want to be in your mouth." Blaine said throatily as way of explanation. "Will you-?" He let the question hang.

Kurt slowly raised himself off of Blaine's cock, pulled up his pants and turned around to face him. He was sore and tired but he knelt between Blaine's spread legs and grasped his erection, pumping it a few times before closing his mouth around the head. He figured he owed Blaine and he knew Blaine loved blowjobs, so he was happy to acquiesce.

Blaine tangled his fingers in Kurt's hair as he took him entirely in his mouth, clenching his lips around him and letting him go deep. It wasn't long before Blaine was bucking up and Kurt held eye-contact with him as he came hard down his throat.

"You're beautiful." Blaine told him with a sigh after he'd joined him post-orgasm, stroking his hair affectionately.

They composed themselves in silence, Blaine pulling his pants up, Kurt finding some tissues to wipe his hands on, sorting his rumpled hair in the reflection on the window.

"I'm sorry I ruined our night." Kurt said when they'd finally collected themselves together and sat back against the seat. He thought back to his behaviour and felt ashamed and frankly, embarrassed by his actions. Blaine hadn't deserved it and now he felt anxious again. But Blaine smiled at him warmly, all trace of anger gone from his face.

"I'm sorry I insulted your outfit. For the record, I thought it looked hot."

They smiled at each other and Blaine took his hand, entwining their fingers together.

"I love you Kurt. Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary Blaine. I love you too."