Title: The Day I Charmed the Pants Off Kurt Hummel

Author: Tati A. Rivers (hey, that's me!)

Fandom: Glee

Rating: okay, now we are entering official steamy make-out session era, so let me know if you think I should change it to M

Pairing: Klaine of course!

Disclaimer: I own the idea for this fanfic, but I absolutely, completely, and totally do not own Glee or its characters. I've informed everyone I know, however, that I want Darren Criss with a big bow on top for my birthday, so here's hoping! ;) Also, all rights to the song "Candles" go to Hey Monday, Caroline Sutton, and whoever else owns a piece of that genius song.

A/N: Okay, this one was inspired by the "Candles" duet by Kurt and Blaine at Regionals (wasn't that too adorable?), and I just couldn't resist. I am never giving a spoiler again—in my last A/N I said that the next chapter would be "The Day I Studied the Pants Off Kurt Hummel", but naturally I went and got an idea that stuck to me like fly guts, and I just had to write it, so I'm very sorry, but the "Studied" chapter release has been postponed for a bit, though I hope this chapter appeases you.

Yet again, thanks to my ever faithful beta reader, Number1KurtHummelFan, for beta'ing everything I write (if she'd actually start writing something, maybe I could return the favor *glares*). Also, to all the wonderful readers who favorite, alerted, and reviewed this story; I love you all to bits!

Lastly—I hope—I gave a warning in the first chapter that I would be jumping around time-wise, so this chapter takes place around Kurt and Blaine's first anniversary—no, not their wedding anniversary, you goobs; they are celebrating the anniversary of the day they first got together, which I place on the day the "Original Songs" episode aired in the United States, March 15. Some background info: Blaine comes back to Lima from college for Spring Break so he can spend this special occasion with Kurt, and well . . . stuff happens. ;)

Enjoy!

The Day I Lit the Pants Off Kurt Hummel

"Oh my God, Blaine, I can't believe I found it!" Blaine heard Kurt squeal from behind him, and he turned to find his boyfriend of nearly one year standing with a DVD case clutched in both hands, jumping up and down with the energy of a pom-pom-wielding cheerleader. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Blaine stared at the boy, utterly baffled. "What—"

"The clip from Regionals last year!" Kurt said excitedly, bounding over to the TV with an absurd amount of enthusiasm for someone who'd only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before because of his boyfriend's . . . needs. "I found it!"

"Oh." Blaine smirked and moved to wrap his arms loosely around Kurt's waist as the younger boy slipped the disk into the player, and he pressed a kiss to Kurt's neck, at the spot that always made him go wild.

True to form, the gesture worked like a charm. Blaine felt Kurt's sharp intake of breath and the shudder that racked down his back just before he turned around in the circle of Blaine's arms and, without warning, shoved Blaine hard and sent him sprawling onto the loveseat. There was a moment of heavy, loud breathing before Blaine felt Kurt move on top of him, and he thought maybe he should bring out a few more old tapes, since this one seemed to get Kurt really frisky.

But every rational thought fled his mind when he felt Kurt's mouth on his own, nibbling and licking and sucking in all the right places, and Blaine couldn't help but moan against Kurt's lips and grasp the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Heat was flooding his body, and it was a miracle he didn't explode from the rampant lust that was sizzling just underneath his skin with each burning touch of Kurt's magical mouth. Their bodies moved perfectly in sync, as Blaine took control and flipped them both over so that he was above Kurt with the younger boy's legs locked in a death-grip around Blaine's thighs as the older boy leaned down to nibble a slow, torturous trail across Kurt's jaw. He tasted like Godiva and strawberry shortcake—strange, considering Kurt would rather die than eat something as sinfully unhealthy as chocolate. And he smelled—oh, God, he smelled like a damned ice cream shop, all cherries and cream and rootbeer floats. He licked the corner of Kurt's delectable mouth and swore under his breath when Kurt let out a growl and dragged his nails across Blaine's scalp, his legs tightening impossibly around Blaine as he arched up against Blaine's wandering hands.

And just when Blaine thought he was going to lose his mind if some article of clothing—even a sock—didn't get taken off, Kurt looked up with hooded, lust-hazed eyes and rasped hoarsely, "We should watch the video."

Blaine groaned against Kurt's neck before propping himself up on his elbows, thrusting his hips forward in the process and causing Kurt to gasp and moan and clutch at the throw pillow behind him. "Are—you—really—really—sure that—you want to—watch a video—right now?" he panted, trying not to moan at the sight of Kurt's disheveled locks and kiss-bruised lips and the rosy flush that burned in the boy's ivory cheeks. It was like Christmas morning—minus the unwrapping bit because Kurt was making it very difficult for Blaine to even get to that part.

"Y-yeah," Kurt breathed, even as he bit his lip against the rumbling moan that escaped him when Blaine's right hand ventured lower, his thumb caressing the thin strip of silken skin that peeked out from between the hem of his shirt and the waistline of his skinny jeans.

"Kurt," Blaine sighed, purposefully avoiding Kurt's eyes because he knew with absolute certainty that Kurt would be jutting his bottom lip out in that positively mouthwatering way he had, and that would not help him retain a decent level of coherency.

"Blaine!" Kurt whined softly, and Blaine sighed again, and shifted to the left, just a bit away from his tantalizingly close boyfriend, before he gave in and met Kurt's eyes. He was not let down; Kurt was gazing at him like he'd just fed Pavarotti's carcass to wild vultures. "Please!" Kurt pouted.

"Damn you and your bloody charm," Blaine surrendered, bending down to give Kurt a more chaste kiss than its predecessors, and most certainly not regretting the fact that he would probably end up with nothing more than a light make-out session before Kurt fell asleep in his lap after the first ten minutes of "Moulin Rouge". He hated movie nights; they always meant jerking off in the shower at three in the morning while Kurt snored softly next door. Was it too much to ask that Kurt be a little bit more, well, hormonal? Blaine had needs. And Kurt was a terrible tease.

It was too bad he loved him to death for it.

"Yes!" Kurt exclaimed, leaping off the couch as soon as Blaine very reluctantly dragged himself off of Kurt's body. "You're the best, darling." He winked at Blaine over his shoulder, and then—quite possibly on purpose—bent over to retrieve the remote from under the cabinet, giving Blaine a rather impressive view of his ass.

Dear lord, what have I done? Blaine sent up a prayer that he would last the night, and when Kurt came back to curl up against his side on the couch, he silently put an arm around his shoulder, setting his jaw in determination that he would not let his hormones get the best of him. It was the night before their anniversary night, and he refused to do anything that had even the slightest chance of screwing up that night; and if that included making a move when Kurt was intent on watching old performance tapes, then so be it. The upper half of his body concluded this to be the right and proper thing to do; his lower half remained decidedly unconvinced.

Kurt's head slipped a bit lower on Blaine's shoulder, and his finger traced teasing circles on Blaine's thigh as his ice cream shop scent filled Blaine's senses.

It was going to be a very, very long night.

"Oh, candles!" Kurt cried gleefully, perking up to point at the screen with a delighted grin on his face.

"What?" Blaine asked, distracted as he subtly buried his nose in Kurt's coffee-colored hair and inhaled deeply.

"You know, our first duet on stage," Kurt explained, looking a bit hurt as though Blaine had forgotten. "'Candles' by Hey Monday."

"Oh." Blaine smiled reassuringly at him and squeezed his shoulders. "Of course I remember."

Kurt gave him a small smile, and there was a glimmer of relief in his eyes before he nestled back into the curve of Blaine's side. He sang along—so did Blaine for a few lines, but it was much more enjoyable just listening to Kurt, absorbing his sweet, airy voice—and entwined his fingers with Blaine's.

Lost sight

Couldn't see

When it was you and me

Blow the candles out

Looks like a solo tonight

I'm beginning to see the light

Blow the candles out

Looks like a solo tonight

But I think I'll be alright

Kurt sighed contentedly. "I love this song," he said softly, pressing a kiss to Blaine's cheek before drawing his knees up and smiling at his boyfriend. "It's so romantic."

Blaine shrugged. "I always thought it seemed a little sad."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed with another drowsy sigh, "but still romantic. Maybe it's just because the title is 'Candles', but I can't help but love it." He resumed tracing invisible hearts on Blaine's thigh, and it took a moment for Blaine to rediscover his vocal chords before he could reply.

When he did, his voice was embarrassingly gruff. "What does the title have to do with it?"

Kurt snuggled even closer to Blaine. "Candles just . . . I don't know, candles are just so perfect. I think making love by candlelight is like, the most romantic thing ever. It makes my toes curl just thinking about it." He bit his lip as though regretting voicing his thoughts aloud and avoided Blaine's eyes, tucking his chin down before asking hesitantly, "Is that . . . weird?"

Blaine couldn't help but chuckle and grin like an idiot. "Absolutely not," he assured him, pressing a kiss to Kurt's temple and shaking his head because, dammit, Kurt's blush was beyond irresistible. "It's actually kind of cute," he added far too breathlessly, whirling a lock of Kurt's powder-soft hair around his index finger.

"Really?" Kurt tilted his face up and arched a brow disbelievingly, and Blaine took the opportunity to give the boy a slow, lazy kiss that did not at all suit his fantasy of pushing Kurt up against the nearest wall and ravishing him.

"Really." Although at this point, Kurt probably didn't require an answer—at least, so it would seem as he fisted his hands in Blaine's curls and pulled him closer, moaning against his mouth.

And at the very moment when Kurt finally seemed to decide to forgo a movie marathon night and his hands strayed to Blaine's zipper, Blaine was distracted by the strangest of thoughts.

Candles.

Hmmm.

"Blaine?" Kurt was pressing hot little butterfly kisses all over Blaine's neck, his fingers tracing Blaine's lower abs.

And Blaine was exceedingly proud of himself for possessing the willpower to draw away and smirk at Kurt before turning back to the TV and saying calmly, "Let's watch 'Moulin Rouge'."

Oh, he couldn't wait for tomorrow night.

"Come on, baby, just a little bit further . . . There. Right there. No, don't take off the blindfold! Hold on a sec." Blaine tiptoed over to the corner and dimmed the lights until the candles were throwing honey-toned shadows over the walls and furniture, dancing and chasing air around the room. He had pushed the loveseat out of the way and set up a round mahogany table with two chairs, and there were two plates placed atop it on either side of a lit vanilla candle. Against the wall was a larger table laden down with bowls of fruit and Caesar salad and sautéed meat and vegetables, all surrounding a gurgling, intricately-crafted chocolate fountain that he knew Kurt would gawk at. "The carbs, oh, the carbs!" He smiled to himself as he moved back to Kurt and put his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Okay, you can take it off now." Blaine pressed a kiss to the back of Kurt's neck as the blindfold was unfastened and discarded on the floor.

"Oh," Kurt's awed whisper made it all worthwhile—the trip to New York for the silk bed sheets, the candles imported from France, the entire day spent cleaning and dusting until his nose burned with the smell of bleach and Mr. Clean, the rose petals he had plucked off thirty-six custom-ordered roses by hand, the chocolate fountain decorated with edible song notes and miniature Eiffel towers..

"Do you like it?" Blaine asked, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he tucked his chin into the crook of Kurt's neck.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt sighed, his face practically glowing as he turned in Blaine's arms to plant a sweet kiss on the boy's mouth, "I love it." His smile was infectious, and stared straight into Blaine's eyes for a moment before adding softly, "It's perfect."

Blaine chuckled. "Just like you, baby," he murmured, smiling widely just before he leaned in for a second kiss, tightening his group on the smaller boy.

"You're such a sap," Kurt sighed into his mouth, twining his arms around Blaine's neck to pull him closer, pressing their bodies together. "But I love you for it."

"Mm," was all Blaine could manage as he deepened the kiss; Kurt tasted like some sort of Willa Wonka factory, all chocolate and caramel and sugar. He moaned against Kurt's lips and slid his hands into the boy's silken hair, drawing him even closer.

Kurt mumbled something unintelligible into Blaine's mouth before pulling away an inch or so and resting his forehead against the other boy's as they both tried to catch their breath. "Sh-should we—should we try the food?" he gasped, his fingers tightening their grasp on Blaine's collar even as the words left his mouth.

Blaine groaned in response. "Why even bother?" he muttered out without thinking. "You already taste like a freaking birthday cake." He inhaled deeply when he realized what he'd said, and prepared to take it all back, but before he could, Kurt let out a breathless little fluttering laugh.

"Really? A birthday cake?"

Blaine could feel a vibrant flush tainting his neck as he ducked his head into Kurt's shoulder and just breathed in that delicious scent. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"That's just about the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," Kurt confessed, and Blaine straightened up, frowning at Kurt in confusion.

"I thought it would be weird to say something like that," he admitted softly.

Kurt shook his head quickly, a slight pink coloring his cheeks as he smiled. "Not at all," he whispered, tenderly brushing a curl away from Blaine's face and leaning in for another slow, mind-melting kiss. "You smell like the world's best coffee shop."

Blaine's hoarse laugh was swallowed by Kurt's mouth descending to his, and he lost track of every sane thought as he felt his insides curl in anticipation. A low moan rumbled deep in his throat, and he couldn't help but back Kurt into the table, using the surface to press closer to him, dive deeper into that delicious, candied mouth. It was like kissing a berry smoothie.

Kurt didn't hold back, gasping and moaning and wrapping his legs around Blaine's as the older boy hoisted him up to rest more easily on the table. Blaine's hands were on his ass, his lips hard at work on his throat, and Kurt's fingers were tangled in his boyfriend's wild curls as he writhed against him. "Blaine!" he whimpered shamelessly, tugging on his hair, and Blaine obediently moved up to set upon Kurt's swollen, kiss-abused lips.

They were just getting to the part where Blaine slowly, torturously slid his hands under Kurt's shirt, when Kurt stilled a bit in Blaine's arms, and mumbled his name into the kiss. "I know, baby," Blaine gasped, tugging at the hem of Kurt's shirt, but Blaine felt Kurt's hands pressing insistently against his shoulders.

"No, Blaine—ah—no, I mean—oh, God—listen—Blaine, stop for a second." Kurt sounded fairly close to hyperventilating.

Blaine groaned against Kurt's neck in frustration. "Kurt, I dare you to give me one good reason why I shouldn't make passionate love with you on our one-year anniversary!" he growled, scowling as he lifted his head to meet Kurt's gaze.

Kurt was chewing on his lip with that star-studded, wanton gleam in his aqua eyes, and he fidgeted in Blaine's arms. "No, no, it's not that, it's—Blaine, I—" he stuttered weakly, looking a bit desperate as his fingers curled into Blaine's shoulders. "Blaine, I-I think my pants are on fire," he whispered.

Blaine burst out laughing. "Is that—some sort of—innuendo—or something?" he gasped between wheezes. "Kurt—you can just say it—in plain English—you know." He collapsed against Kurt, unable to control his laughter, and Kurt let out a noise of frustration.

"Blaine!" he whined, pushing against the older boy's shoulders, but Blaine was too far gone to notice. "Blaine, I'm serious!"

"'I think my pants are on fire'—haha—I'm writing that one down," Blaine howled, his cackles sending vibrations along Kurt's skin, which made the situation even more awkward.

"Blaine, shut up!" Kurt snapped, glaring down at his hysterical boyfriend. "I'm perfectly serious. Get off me so my ass doesn't get a third degree burn on it. I'm practically sitting on a lit candle, for God's sakes!"

And finally—finally—Blaine sobered up just enough to think to ask, "You're serious, aren't you?" to which Kurt rolled his eyes and looked down pointedly at his left leg, where a candle had sparked a tiny but growing flame on Kurt's hip. They both stared at the enflamed jeans for a moment before Blaine jumped up with a shriek and ran toward the bathroom, yelling, "Hold on, Kurt!"

"Get some Aloe while you're in there!" Kurt called after him just to rile him up, snickering at Blaine's alarm.

Ten minutes later, Kurt's jeans were lying in a heap on the floor while Blaine examined the very slight burn on Kurt's thigh. "For crying out loud, Blaine, for the last time, I'm fine!" Kurt sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes, but Blaine just shook his head stubbornly and kept his eyes trained on the tiny mark as though attempting to remove it with his eyes alone. With a huff, Kurt folded his arms and leaned back on the bed, allowing Blaine to practice his nonexistent healing vision on the pea-sized wound. He let out a gasp of surprise when he felt Blaine's tongue lap at it, his hot mouth leaving a wet spot to cool against the air as he slid up to wrap his arms around Kurt's waist and press a soft kiss to the younger boy's shoulder.

"Sorry about the candle," he murmured against Kurt's skin, his nails digging lightly into the tender flesh of his hips.

"S' fine," Kurt gasped, still breathless from the erotic feeling of Blaine's tongue—his tongue—licking that spot; he'd never imagined a burn could bring him that much pleasure. It was far, far better than Aloe.

"It really kind of messed it all up though, didn't it?" Blaine nuzzled Kurt's neck, and it was all Kurt could do not to attack him then and there. Instead, he slipped his hand onto Blaine's thigh and squeezed, feeling Blaine's breath stutter against his ear.

"No, not really," Kurt replied, only it came out in a throaty gasp as Blaine pulled him closer, until every part of him was pressed up again Kurt's back. Kurt's mouth felt like a desert. "We still got to the love-making part, I think." He bit his lip, flushing at the words even as he felt excitement stirring down south.

"Mm-hm, definitely," Blaine chuckled against the nape of his neck, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before sliding lower, his hands creeping under Kurt's shirt to tickle in light, teasing strokes up and down his back, making Kurt moan. "And you still smell like a birthday cake."

"And you still smell like a gourmet Starbucks," Kurt shot back, moaning a little as Blaine pushed up his shirt to press feather-light kisses along his lower back.

"Only this time, not only do you smell and taste like that sinfully delicious Devil's Food cake"—Blaine's light laugh sent a tremor up Kurt's spine as his kisses went further down—"but this time, I sort of blew out the candle."

And then his mouth was on that burn again, and it was all Kurt could do not to scream his need for all of Ohio to hear, because his tongue was working wonders and making him see stars. "Oh, dear sweet lord—" he breathed, his fingers tangling once more in Blaine's riotous curls as warmth unfurled and tightened inside him, tingling across his skin and making his toes curl until they turned white.

"Happy anniversary, love," Blaine murmured, his hot breath blowing on the same spot he had only moments before been using his tongue on.

Candles, Kurt decided the next morning, were his new best friends.

A/N: Well, how'd you like that? Let me know; I love reading reviews! I try to reply to everyone, but I know I've probably missed a few; just know that I appreciate each and every person's wonderful support of this series. It is so, so fun to write, especially this chapter, since it's both the longest and the steamiest I think I've ever written. So, this time I'm really anxious for feedback, since I have absolutely no idea the effect—good or bad—this chapter will have on readers. Hopefully it'll get people a bit "hot and bothered", since, let me tell you, I was squirming just picturing the scenes in my head.

Okay, well, I think that's it. I'll try to update soon, but you never know what'll come up, so no promises. I'm out!