A/N: This was written for the following kink meme prompt: Kurt breaks his right wrist and suddenly can't take care of some of his more...personal needs. As a result, he's being totally crabby and tense. When Blaine catches on to why his beloved bf is acting this way he decides to lend him a helping hand. I hope I did an okay job. I think I think I might be too much of a humorous writer to fill kink meme prompts. Not much smut in this, but hopefully I'll improve with time. : )

It happened just in time to upset the flow of the summer ritual that they had developed ever since New Directions had got back from New York and McKinley's school year had come to a close. Part of this ritual included Blaine meeting Kurt every Tuesday after his half day shift at the garage at their favorite diner, which was actually neither of the boys' favorite diner but was the only option in Lima that satisfied Kurt's condition of a decent Cobb salad as well as Blaine's own requirement of a decent cup of coffee and the joint necessity of somewhat sanitary booths.

Blaine was just perfecting his outfit (Kurt Hummel's boyfriend had no excuse for a sub-standard appearance—even in a sub-standard diner in Lima, Ohio) when his phone rang. Turning away from the mirror and grabbing his phone off his bed, Blaine saw the caller ID picture for Kurt's phone, Blaine's new favorite photo, taken only a week ago while Kurt sunbathed at the local pool looking like a fashion model in designer trunks and large sunglasses that only Kurt could manage.

"Hey!" Blaine exclaimed into the phone, slightly embarrassed about the eagerness evident in his voice despite hearing the same tone in Kurt's own voice often. "Why are you calling early? Shouldn't you still be working—" Blaine was suddenly cut off.

"Blaine. It's Burt." Kurt could hear frantic talking in the background and Burt sounded slightly out of breath. "Kurt's not going to be able to make it to lunch today."

Thoroughly confused, Blaine responded carefully. "Oh. Um, okay. That's fine. Why couldn't he let me know himself?"

Blaine perched on the edge of his bed as Burt stuttered before answering. "Well, he insisted I call and let you know since he might not have been able to let you know before it was time for your lunch date."

Burt sounded hesitant and awkward. In the seven months that Blaine had known Burt Hummel, he had never heard him this flustered. Blaine had seen Burt angry, surely, after the prom queen fiasco and stern was a frequent personality trait of Burt's after finding Blaine and Kurt together on the living room couch, but Burt was always sure in what he did. Blaine was becoming suspicious. And slightly worried to be honest.

"Burt, what's going on? Is something wrong? Did Kurt lose his phone privileges or something?"

"Well, you see…" Burt let out a long, resigned, suffering sigh. "We're at the hospital right now."

Blaine's mind was suddenly running at high speed, contemplating all of the possible injuries his boyfriend could have sustained while working at a car garage stocked with car jacks and welding equipment and drills and chemicals. He was about to demand to be informed of the severity of Kurt's injuries, but it turns out he didn't need to. It was quite obvious from the Kurt's yelling in the background of the phone conversation that he was conscious, lucid, and had full use of his vocal cords, so Blaine figured it couldn't be too bad.

"DAD!" Blaine heard in the background. "It shouldn't have been that hard! I just asked you to tell him that I wouldn't be able to make lunch!" Kurt was loud enough that it sounded as if he was holding the phone and not Burt.

"Kurt! Please be quiet. We are in a workplace where sick people are trying to heal. I couldn't lie to him kid! You know he would want to know Kurt."

"He's just going to worry! I don't want that!"

"Kurt, really. You'd be angry if he was in the same situation and didn't let you know."

"Dad! It's embarrassing. I didn't want him to know. It's too late now, just give me the phone. No, that won't work." Blaine heard fumbling for a few minutes and more murmured conversation.

"Blaine?"

Blaine was thrown for a bit of a loop, being part of the conversation after a few minutes of eavesdropping. "Kurt? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Blaine heard Kurt sigh.

"I'm mostly fine. It's just really embarrassing." Blaine waited for the rest of the story but nothing came.

"Kurt, you can tell me anything. I'm not going to judge you. What happened?" More silence. Blaine didn't know if he could take it anymore, expecting the worse. Finally, Kurt answered.

"I wasn't watching where I was walking. I tripped on a tire. I fell, and I tried to catch myself." Another sigh. "My wrist is broken." Blaine's heart wrenched. Blaine had broken his arm once when he was seven and knew how terrible it was to be incapacitated like that. At the same time, Blaine was so thankful that it wasn't anything more serious.

"Oh babe. I'm so sorry. Which wrist? Is it your right one? I broke my right arm in 1st grade. It was terrible. It hurt like hell too. Are you in much pain? Do you need me to come to the hospital?"

"Calm down Blaine. I didn't want Dad to tell you because I knew you would freak out. Yes, it's my right wrist. At least it's summer so I don't have to worry about writing for school. Yes, it hurts. They gave me some pills for now and in a bit they're going to set it, which they warned me would be the worst part. I've got to wear a full arm cast for at least six weeks. Six weeks Blaine! How am I going to be fashionable? I might as well start wearing sweat pants every day. Wearing a horrid plaster cast with any competent designer is just blasphemy, like scribbling on art." Blaine could hear the pout in his boyfriend's voice but couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. You can make anything look good. And you know how sexy I think you are in lounge pants and a t-shirt, so I would have no complaints." Blaine grinned at the memory of the first time seeing Kurt in his lounge clothes. A Kurt in loose comfort-clothes was a Kurt that was accessible, open, and intimate, only for Blaine and Kurt's closest family to see. A Kurt in comfort-clothes meant that Blaine could hang all over Kurt as much as he wanted without being interrupted to avoid wrinkling or creasing expensive wardrobe pieces. A Kurt in a t-shirt meant a sneak peek of Kurt's biceps.

A gruff throat clear that couldn't belong to his boyfriend brought Blaine out of his memories. "Blaine, I'm on speaker phone right now. I can't hold the phone because one arm is mangled and the other is covered in IV cords. That's why I had Dad call you earlier," Kurt explained carefully.

Right. Awkward silence. "Oh," Blaine cleared his own throat. "Sorry about that. Uh, which hospital are you at? I'd like to come sit with you."

And with that, Blaine was off on a whirlwind twelve hours full of waiting, listening to Kurt worry, comforting Kurt, laughing at Kurt when they gave him the good pain medicine, and helping Carole (Burt and Finn had been relegated to prescription pick-up after Finn had informed Kurt that his arm would get itchy and sweaty and start to smell funny like Puck's did in the 7th grade) to get cranky Kurt home and comfortable in bed before the good pain medication wore off.

The next four days went as well as could be expected. Kurt was now obviously exempt from his job at the garage, a mechanic with only one function, non-dominant hand wasn't much use and Hummel Tire and Lube didn't really require a receptionist. Carole spent the next day home with Kurt and Blaine and showed Blaine the location of what seemed like anything in the house that Kurt may ever need. Otherwise, Blaine kept Kurt's misery company, made Finn food to distract him whenever he annoyed Kurt, and got to spend a lot of time staring at Kurt's lounge pant and t-shirt clad body without worrying about being caught due to the drowsiness induced by Kurt's pain meds. Come Sunday, Kurt was weaned off the pain meds and was pushing through the minimum pain with Advil. Kurt was perking up and had updated his ensemble to his usual skinny jeans pared with a t-shirt, although not by choice. They were the only tops that could fit over his cast. Blaine certainly wasn't complaining. He had his lucid boyfriend back to watch TV and listen to music and play games with while all the while getting to reap the benefits of Kurt's usual form fitting bottoms and the new development of Kurt's upper-arm bearing t-shirts.

By Monday morning in the empty house, Kurt was feeling well enough to venture into the uncharted territory of making out with one less functional arm and one more awkward plaster cast. After finally working out the positioning (Kurt on top with a pillow next to Blaine's chest to allow Kurt's cast to rest his cast on a combination of the two) the boys commenced kissing. One of the benefits of the boys' original summer ritual had been nearly daily make out sessions. After a week of nothing but get-well cuddles and pecks, Blaine reached their stopping point much sooner than usual. After not even ten minutes, Blaine could already feel Kurt's hips rising off the bed to avoid Blaine's, and Blaine was in the same predicament.

Detaching his lips from Kurt's very accessible clavicle (thank you t-shirt) Blaine gasped out, "Kurt. I think we should stop now."

"I know," whispered Kurt, his words contradicting his actions as his good hand clutched at Blaine's hair, bringing their mouths together. Blaine's brain was mostly consumed by the magic that Kurt's lips and teeth and tongue were performing, but he couldn't help but notice that their kissing sessions were ending, or should he say not ending, more like this every day. The two boys both seemed to be having trouble stopping and once they did stop and separate, Blaine more than often needed to go home and have private time in his bedroom or the bathroom to relieve his frustration.

After a few moments, Kurt broke the kiss and rolled off Blaine, careful of his wrist. Blaine could feel Kurt's breathing and listened to it as it evened out. When both of them were calmed down, they spent the afternoon coloring in the intricate design that Kurt penciled in on his plain white plaster cast. They spent the late afternoon making out some more before Burt and Carole returned from work and Finn returned from whatever shenanigans he got up to with Puckerman.

The next few days followed in much the same pattern. Blaine was content. Well, more than content. He got to spend the majority of the working day with his super hot boyfriend, enjoying equal parts of making out and spending quality time. It wasn't until a few days later than Blaine started noticing.

Kurt was cranky.

It started with a bottle of root beer. Blaine and Kurt were sitting in the early morning shade of the Hummel-Hudson residence's back porch. Blaine had finished his root beer and was currently sitting with his feet in Kurt's lap, whistling on the bottle, basking in the smell of summer and Kurt's cologne.

"Blaine! Seriously, can you stop that? It's so immature. I might as well spend time with Finn if you're going to do things like that."

And with that outburst, Kurt was shoving Blaine's feet off his lap and heading inside, leaving Blaine to wonder exactly what was wrong with his boyfriend.

It continued. Throughout the day, Blaine got snapped at for using all the whipped cream on his ice cream sundae during lunch, and for proposing that he mow the lawn to help out Burt and Finn, all without so much as an apology.

Blaine let it slide. He knew Kurt and he knew this wasn't him. Kurt had confided in Blaine just the prior day that he felt dirty and unkempt all the time, unable to shower properly or perform his moisturizing routine appropriately without the use of both hands, unable to express himself through the clothes that he loved. On top of all of that, Kurt was worried about his father's workload without Kurt's part time work. Kurt had put in 20 hours at the garage every summer since he turned 13. Kurt was worried about the stress on Burt's heart without Kurt's help. Blaine could see the distress in Kurt's eyes when he tried to reach something in his closest and failed or when he had to ask Blaine to help lace his boots when they were leaving the house. Blaine knew it was a trying time and figured that Kurt was allowed to have a cranky day.

On top of all of that, Kurt was so cranky that they barely kissed that day. Blaine wasn't used to pulling out fantasies or old memories at night anymore. He usually envisioned him and Kurt's latest alone time and, you could say, expanded on it.

But the next days, Kurt was much the same. Among many things, Blaine got harassed for wearing cargo shorts (although Kurt may have still done that on a good day) and pushed Blaine away when he tried to kiss him while cooking a quick brunch. Blaine did get an apology for the denied kiss when saw the hurt look on Blaine's face. Kurt said he just wasn't in the mood and Blaine could respect that.

It came to a head on the third day when Kurt and Blaine curled up on the couch to watch their daytime TV dramas. Kurt was lying on his side with his back against the couch's back, while his cast rested on Blaine's chest while Blaine was lying on his back on the front half of the couch cushions. Blaine was barely watching the TV as the evil new wife attempted to send away the handsome mayor's children to boarding school. Instead, Blaine was slowly running his hand up and down Kurt's back, hoping to soothe him.

It didn't work. Blaine watched as Kurt jumped from the couch outraged.

"I can't stand this anymore!" Blaine stood as Kurt began to pace the living room floor. "I just need some alone time. Could you please give me a few days to myself?" Kurt stopped and looked at Blaine pleadingly. Blaine could see the frustration in his eyes. Blaine's heart was beating like a hummingbird's. Kurt wanted space. Blaine thought that Kurt's mood was about his injury but it must be something worse.

"Kurt, what's wrong? You've never had problems spending time with me before. If you need space I can give it to you." Blaine swallowed hard. "I just…I thought that this was working."

Kurt sank onto the couch with his head in his good hand. "Oh God Blaine. It is! It is! Don't think that. I just, can't be around you right now." The words relived some of Blaine's worries but Kurt's voice sounded as if he was close to crying.

Blaine walked toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Kurt jerked away.

"Argh!" Kurt exclaimed loudly. "I just can't take this anymore!"

Blaine sat down next to Kurt, carefully avoiding touching him again. "Kurt," Blaine started. "What is wrong? Are you still embarrassed about breaking your wrist? I told you that's not embarrassing at all. Is it the t-shirts? You know I think you look amazing in them or in anything else. You're making me nervous that you won't let me touch you and that you don't want to be around me. To be honest, you have me thinking the worst." Blaine's chest felt better with the admission.

Kurt's face was still buried in his hand. Muffled, he said, "It's none of that. But I still can't tell you. Just trust me."

"Kurt, you can tell me anything. You know—"

"NO I CAN'T!" Kurt looked up with his outburst and the look on his face could only be described as pained. Kurt cleared his throat. "It's just, it's not something that people talk about."

Blaine scooted closer to Kurt and put his hand on Kurt's knee out of pure instinct more than anything. And with that, Kurt was up and spewing again.

"I can't be around you! Everything you do turns me on. Your hand on my knee feels like fire and your hand running up and down my back gives me shivers like ice. I can't watch you eat or drink out of a bottle without being distracted by your lips. Even your voice drives me crazy whether you're talking about the history professor at Dalton or the new album you bought or even my Dad. And if all of those things drive me crazy, you can imagine why I've been avoiding actually kissing you."

Blaine felt relived. This was just another sexuality issue of Kurt's. Blaine could work through this. Kurt still wanted to be with him.

"Kurt, there's nothing wrong with that. It's okay. I feel the same way about you. It's only natural to be attracted to your boyfriend—"

"No, it's not okay—"

"Yes it is Kurt, it's natural—"

"I CAN'T GET MYSELF OFF WITH MY LEFT HAND!" Kurt practically roared at Blaine. Blaine swallowed heavily while his mind processed that. Kurt sank onto the couch and leaned against the back, closed his eyes, and groaned.

Awkward silence. "Kurt, I'm so sorry. I never thought of that. I was only seven when I broke my arm."

"It's really embarrassing talking about it, but I'll explain it to you so you don't worry about our relationship. Please don't laugh. It's hard to share this." Eyes still closed and voice nearly a whisper now, Kurt continued to explain. "I didn't think it was going to be an issue. I never," Kurt paused, blushed, and wetted his lips. "I never use my left hand but I thought it would be mostly the same. News flash, it's not. I googled it, and from what I can tell some boys can use either hand but most have a strong preference." Kurt paused and finally looked at Blaine. Blaine felt his own face flush and could see the embarrassment present in Kurt's expression.

It's only fair, Blaine thought. He cleared his throat. "If it makes you feel better, I favor my left. Although, I'd be able to get by with my right."

"The the first time I tried, probably about the fourth day, I couldn't," Kurt gulped, "finish, but I thought there was just a learning curve. The next time I tried was the day after we started making out again. I was so frustrated after that day and I couldn't relieve any of the frustration. It just doesn't feel right. The sensations aren't the same and it feels awkward. That wasn't too bad because it was only one day. But then we were just here in the house, all alone, for five or six hours a day and it got worse. A few days ago was the breaking point. I woke up after having a dream and I was so h—" Kurt stopped abruptly.

Blaine was a teenage boy and he definitely knew where Kurt was going with this. He knew how hard (no pun intended) this was for Kurt but he couldn't help but be entranced with the idea of Kurt having those kinds of dreams and getting turned on by Blaine himself. As embarrassing as it was, Blaine was starting to get aroused.

Blaine was in over his head. They'd never gotten anywhere close to this. The only reason he even knew that Kurt got aroused was the way that Kurt avoided his hips when they'd been at it awhile.

Here goes nothing, thought Blaine. He locked eyes with Kurt. "You were hard?" Kurt swallowed hard and Blaine couldn't remember ever seeing anything as attractive in his life as the smooth bob of Kurt's Adam's apple.

Kurt seemed to steel himself and continue. "As crazy as the idea is, I wished that it had been like when I was younger and that I could have finished in my sleep. At least then maybe I could have felt a bit better, any relief. I just, it's way too hard to be around you because all of the attraction just builds. I don't know what to do."

"This is awkward to ask, but are you sure you've tried everything?"

"Yes Blaine," snapped Kurt. Blaine could definitely understand his frustration now and wasn't really angry anymore. "I've spent hours trying to find a way that works and I can't. I think I'd know how to masturbate by now but my left hand just can't cut it."

"Okay. Again, this is awkward but I'm trying to find a way to be around you. I can't just separate myself from your for five weeks. I couldn't handle that. So, I'm gonna suggest something. They, uh, they make a toy that's shaped like a flashlight on the outside, that has an, uh, an orifice that you, well, you—"

"Whoa whoa! Stop right there. I appreciate you trying to help, but I'm not buying a sex toy Blaine. What if Carole found it? And Dad would see it on my bank statement. I can deal. But I have to warn you that I don't think I'm going to be much in the mood for making out for the next few weeks."

Blaine couldn't really call it an epiphany per se. He'd been thinking about it since Kurt's first outburst. And if you wanted to get technical, Blaine had really been thinking about it since a few weeks before Kurt sang Blackbird. Blaine thought that his final suggestion might get him kicked out, but he was going to go insane if he had to put up with five weeks of no Kurt. Not touching his soft hair, his smooth arms, or his strong back. Not being able to pull him close and embrace him whenever he felt the urge. All things considered, the risk was worth it.

Blaine angled towards Kurt and took his hand. Kurt didn't pull away, which gave Blaine a smidgen of hope.

"Kurt, we've been together for almost four months now. I'm not trying to offend you, but I think we both can tell during our alone time that we're both sexually attracted to each other. I know that being sexually attracted doesn't mean we're ready for sex, but I myself would feel comfortable moving to the next stage. And in doesn't have to really be moving to the next stage, I'd do it in as much of a clinical, technical way that I can manage if that would make you feel better. Oh dear. I'm rambling. I should just probably explain the suggestion before giving different options for it. Okay. Hold on a minute."

Blaine finally felt his stupid mouth shut. He was breathing heavily. This was proving to be harder than he anticipated. Kurt squeezed his hand.

"I'm not sure what you're getting at. You said that all really fast and I didn't catch much. Calm down and try again. You're not going to offend me. I know what hand you jerk off with now, okay. We're way past that."

Blaine looked up at Kurt's and his adorable grin convinced Blaine to continue. "Okay. In a nutshell, if you can't get yourself off, maybe I could get you off."

Kurt was silent, his mouth open in an almost comical fashion. Blaine resumed rambling. "I mean, it doesn't have to be like a sexual experience for us as a couple, I can just do it really quick. I'm so sorry. It's just the only other option I can think of."

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay I accept your offer." Kurt suddenly frowns. "I mean, unless you want to retract it," he adds hastily. "I don't think I'd be okay with reciprocating though. I'm not ready. I feel terrible accepting this but I just can't deal with this for another five weeks."

"No, no. I would be honored to do this." Blaine realizes how stupid that sounds after he says it. Kurt must too, because he snickers. Blaine can't help but join him and soon they're both outright laughing.

"So when do you want to do this?" Blaine manages to chuckle out.

"Ohmygod. As soon as possible. I told you, I've been going crazy the last five days."

"Um, okay. Should we go to your room?" Kurt stands and pulls Blaine along with his good hand. On the way up the stairs, Blaine can't help but look at the bulge in the front of Kurt's tight pants and think about the fact that he's about to take them off Kurt. Blaine's dick is half-hard in his own jeans.

Once they're in Kurt's room with the door shut, Kurt turns and pulls Blaine into a deep kiss. It feels surreal after a few days without any kisses. Kurt separates their lips with a smacking noise and pulls back to look into Blaine's eyes.

"I think I'd feel more comfortable if we tried to keep this low key this first time. I'm really quite nervous. Just like I said, I don't think I'd be ready for this step if I wasn't in this situation. But given that I am in the situation, I am definitely ready for this. "

"Yeah. Just like I said. I'll try to keep it simple. Um, what if I sit behind you then it will just feel like you're doing it yourself. I can be clothed and you could leave your shirt and underwear on if you want."

Blaine gives Kurt a quick kiss and hops onto the bed against the headboard. Blaine spreads his legs into a V and looks up. He finds Kurt peeling off his skinny jeans, revealing dark blue boxer briefs. Blaine can tell that Kurt is already pretty aroused. Smiling nervously and shaking slightly, Kurt climbs in between Blaine's legs. Kurt scoots back and Blaine knows that Kurt must feel his erection hitting his lower back where his ass begins.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I can't help it. I'm holding back as much as possible." Blaine can't help but stroke his hand up from Kurt's knee to his mid-thigh and back down again. Blaine is surprised that he finds the rough, light colored hairs strangely erotic.

"You're fine," Kurt chokes out. "Trust me, I of all people understand," he finished with a throaty laugh.

Blaine inhales a deep breath filled with the smell of Kurt's hair and exhales. He places a quick kiss to the back of Kurt's neck and feels the resulting shiver.

"Okay," Blaine says braver than he feels. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Blaine can feel his body shaking, but Blaine hears the resolve in his voice.

"Okay. Should I, uh, just slide your underwear down?"

"Yeah," Kurt mumbles and lifts his hips. Blaine slides his hands into the front of the elastic band and pulls down. Kurt's half erect penis springs out. Blaine has always wondered and now he knows. Kurt doesn't shave but he definitely trims his hair short. There's a neat little patch of light brown hair at the base and it's gorgeous. Blaine can't wait to get home and try all of his favorite fantasies with the real image now. Kurt's cock looks thicker than his own does, but around the same length. It's the hottest thing Blaine has ever seen—a real life erect dick that isn't his own. And it's his to touch.

"You look great Kurt," Blaine whispers into Kurt's ear. Kurt lets out a controlled breath.

"Please touch me," Kurt gasps out. Blaine rests his chin over Kurt's shoulder and snakes his hand up and around Kurt's body. He slithers back up Kurt's thigh, but doesn't stop this time. When he reaches the juncture of Kurt's hip, he steels himself, slides his hand to the left, and grabs a hold of Kurt.

Kurt lets out a gasp and his hips bounce up. Kurt is smooth and so, so warm. Blaine starts stroking as he would himself. After a few strokes, Kurt must regain his speech abilities.

"That feels great, but can you put more pressure and faster strokes if you can."

Blaine follows the instructions, but can't believe this is happening. This must be what Kurt likes. This is how Kurt jerks off. Blaine could go home tonight and use this same type of stroke and pretend it's Kurt. After all, Blaine started out with the type of strokes he likes and Kurt would do the same.

Blaine can see that Kurt is leaking now and Blaine can't resist running his thumb over the head. Kurt whines and bucks up again.

"Jesus. I'm really close Blaine. Please keep going."

Blaine thinks that that's funny, because nothing could make him stop. At this point, Finn could walk in and Blaine still wouldn't stop before he sees Kurt come.

Blaine can't help but place more sweet kisses on Kurt's neck. Blaine knows it's happening when he feels the tendons in Kurt's neck tighten. Blaine is torn between looking down where Kurt's dick is spurting over Blaine's own hand and between Kurt's face where the most intense expression ever is situated on his face, eyes closed, mouth open, forehead scrunched up. Kurt practically melts back into Blaine. They sit in silence for a few minutes and Blaine runs his clean hand along Kurt's thigh. When Kurt's breathing has calmed and Blaine can't take his hard on anymore, he tucks Kurt back into his underwear, slides out from underneath him, and mumbles something about using the restroom.

When Blaine returns, quickly enough that he's almost embarrassed (you'd think he was the one who went a week without jerking off), Kurt already has his pants back on, sitting on the edge of his bed, wringing his hands.

"Uh," he begins. "I just want to thank you for that. It means a lot to me that you'd do that for me."

Blaine laughs. "Trust me. I enjoyed it too."

"You know what I mean. I'm still a little nervous about, reciprocating."

"I knew that Kurt. I understood what you were asking for."

"I just feel bad leaving you to handle everything by yourself."

"Hey. At least I can handle it myself. You can't and I'd love to lend you a hand whenever you need it. No strings attached." Blaine takes a seat next to Kurt and pulls him up the bed for some type of strange, atypical post-coital cuddle.

Blaine and Kurt spend the rest of the afternoon getting their fill of each other after missing a few days' rations. And when Blaine heads home, he's certainly excited about the new masturbatory fodder he's acquired. As it turns out, he doesn't really need the new images for long. Just shy of two weeks later, Kurt tells Blaine that he's ready to reciprocate. And since Kurt's never been comfortable with his left hand, his mouth is the only other option. Neither of them complains.