A/N: Just a short little drabble. I would like to apologise in advance for the French used in this fic. I am awful at languages, and this all comes from an internet translator. So... enjoy!
Voulez vous coucher avec moi?
"Kurt, can we please stop now?" Blaine whined, putting down his pen for the sixth time in an hour. A large textbook sat in his lap, surrounded by sheets and sheets of paper covered in his own scrawled handwriting and heavily annotated with Kurt's red pen. Sitting next to him on the sofa, rolling his eyes in an overly melodramatic way, was his boyfriend.
"No, we can not stop. You said you needed help to pass your French test tomorrow, and you are nowhere near ready for it," Kurt admonished, forcing the pen back into Blaine's unwilling hand. Blaine let it rest there, limply, as he stared at the foreign words on the book's pages.
"Now, repeat after me - le livre se situe dans une petite ville," Kurt said, wincing as Blaine repeated his words and mispronounced them all.
Blaine, noticing this, grinned at Kurt, and then shoved the books off his lap.
"Blaine, what…" Kurt managed to say, before Blaine was pushing him back onto the sofa, and attaching their lips. Kurt gave in for a few minutes, as Blaine moved onto his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there.
But after a few minutes, he pushed Blaine off again.
"You need to learn this," Kurt said firmly, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing and the way he could feel his blood pounding in his head.
"I already speak French," Blaine replied, pressing his lips once again to Kurt's neck. Kurt snorted in amusement.
"Oh yeah? Show me," he commanded, smiling wryly when Blaine pulled back to look at him, mischievous glint firmly in his eyes.
"Voulez vous coucher avec moi?" he said innocently, before pushing Kurt back down and pinning him with his body.
"I see someone has been watching Moulin Rouge again," Kurt remarked, trying and failing not to grin when Blaine buried his head in the curve of Kurt's shoulder, "I thought Wes threatened to throw you out of your room if you kept watching that?"
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Blaine muttered, before leaning up to kiss Kurt again.
French forgotten, Kurt responded eagerly, his hands scrabbling for purchase of Blaine's back as his boyfriend deepened the kiss and plundered Kurt's mouth. His hands finally ended up grasping at Blaine's waist, pulling him closer impatiently. Blaine slid his hand up under Kurt's top, stroking his chest gently while the younger boy writhed beneath him. Blaine broke the kiss, panting against Kurt's mouth as they just lay there, staring into each other's eyes for what seemed like minutes, but was more like seconds.
"So, Kurt," Blaine grinned, breaking the silence, "voulez vous coucher avec moi?"
"Oui," Kurt managed to gasp out, before Blaine's lips were silencing him again.
Blaine's French book lay on the floor, ignored.