barry.

Right now wasn’t the time for such things. Barry had
learnt the hard way to cherish the moments he had
with people, especially those he cared deeply for.
While he might be hard to get rid of, and had the knack
of just bouncing back. Not everyone did. So he’ll push
his negative feelings aside, it was pointless, and he’d
rather enjoy it. Forget, forget, and let go. There’s more
laughter that leaves him, looking up with a grin. “You
seriously just compared yourself to lint, I hope you
know that,” he teased, that grin growing wider. Although,
he was rather accurate, Blaine was firmly seated, and
wasn’t going to be leaving. Nor was Barry going to make
the effort to push him off. As if, ha! Instead, his own
eyes had that mischievous glint in them. “Good, because
I was going to let you leave anyway,” he uttered,
moving a little to nip at his lower lip. Before capturing
those soft lips with his own, humming a bit as one of
his hands settled on the small of his back. The other
nestled in that hair, that he knew was soft, and sometimes
wished Blaine would use less gel. He really liked those
soft curls.

“I did and I’m not taking it back either.  Actually?  I’m fine with
embracing my lintdom and accepting who I am.  So?  Deal
with it,” he grinned and teased back twice as hard.  But–
lintdom?  What is that even?  Blaine had little to no time to
think on his latest what the heck? before there was a bite to
his bottom lip that had caused a hiss of breath to cut off his
ability to speak–or think–coherently.  Barry took advantage
of a well known weakness.  But before he could point that
out–there were lips covering his and muffling a pitched
groan that tumbled out of his mouth and fell into Barry’s.
Blaine’s calves tightened around the small of his back and
his hands cupped and stroked freckled cheeks.  Fingers in
his hair caused his eyelids to flutter black lashes over a pair
of rolling back eyes.  Definitely not fair at all.  Not that he
was complaining.  Pulling back, half opened eyes peeked
open to sneak a glimpse of a wet, open mouth before he
upped the ante and bit into Barry’s bottom lip only to soothe
the sting away with a sweep of his tongue. “Two can play
at that game, Mister Allen.”  His voice was lower and barely
above a whisper before he merely pecked his lips and grinned
daringly.  Another quick peck turned into a peppering of kisses.
How long would Barry be able to stand it was the name of
said game.  Let’s see–shall we?