Carry Me Home (Tonight) (22/?)
Title: Carry Me Home (Tonight) (22/?)
Author: blasthisass / goldenwarbler
Rating: up to NC-17
Summary: As disagreements continue to rage in the Anderson household, Blaine is forced to spend his evenings behind a bar to pay his way through OSU. It’s not an ideal solution, but the money is good and he manages well enough. That may very well change, however, when the interested gaze of Kurt Hummel, self-proclaimed resident bad-boy, lands on him. And it seems that Kurt doesn’t have the word ‘no’ in his vocabulary.
Previous Chapters: Here
Disclaimers: No one is mine. Move along now.
Warnings: none for this chapter
Spoilers: None
Blaine drummed his fingers lightly against his steering wheel, turning his head to look at Kurt, who was staring intently at his own front door. “So, are we going in or are we planning on sitting here all night?”
Kurt frowned, his gaze still trained on the door before he nodded briefly. “Stay in the car,” he murmured softly, his hand reaching for the door handle.
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Going to leave me hanging twice in one night?” he asked, his voice teasing, but just slightly wary.
Kurt licked his lips, his gaze still scanning over the dirty wood of his front door, the precarious sway of the number nailed to it, like it would fall off with a strong enough breeze. “No, that’s not it. I just . . . going to make sure they’re not around,” he replied quietly, more to himself to Blaine and he popped the door open quickly, swinging his legs onto the pavement. “Stay here,” he repeated before ducking out of the car and slamming the door shut. He walked swiftly toward his door, hand thrusting into his pocket and pulling out a small ring of keys. His shoulders were hunched, as though against the wind, but Blaine could tell he was trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible, despite the fact that not a soul could be spotted on the long stretch of pavement in front of the building.
He fiddled quickly with the lock, his gaze focused intently on where his key fit smoothly into it and when the door popped open he waved at the car, his gaze directed down the row of doors to where empty bottles and cigarette butts were the only remnants of the group that had lingered there earlier, and a baseball cap hanging on a nail in the rotting wood of the porch rail was the only indication that they might be back.
He stepped in quickly after Blaine passed him, leaning against the door to ensure that it was closed properly, his hands fiddling with a series of locks before turning to Blaine. His hands rose to work the buttons of his coat, mechanically as he watched Blaine, as though he were trying to give them something to do. Blaine smiled reassuringly at him before glancing around the apartment, his curiosity capturing him.
It was small, tiny and dingy in a way that held in it an attempt to clean and make home-like, but without much effect. The single room was spread out in front of him, cramped depite the small amount of furniture in it, the kitchen bleeding through to the main room. The only thing separating the two sections was a worn, vintage-looking room divider, just hiding an unmade futon from view, the corner of a white sheet tangling centimeters from the ground.
There was something about it, Blaine knew that as he looked from the old trunk sitting between the futon and the window, masquerading as a makeshift coffee table, to the kitchen, little and grimy with barely enough room to move around. It was small, all so small and that was what seemed to strike Blaine most about it. Small and plain, two things that Kurt was certainly not and he wondered how it was that Kurt fit in there without going mad. Whether he even did.
He glanced over his shoulder and Kurt made a face, his brows furrowed together. “So . . .”
“I like that,” Blaine interrupted, gesturing toward the divider.
Kurt smiled weakly, the expression not quite reaching his eyes, as though he felt that Blaine was placating him. He reached up a hand to scratch at a spot behind his left ear, his nose crinkling slightly. “It was my mom’s,” he answered with a shrug, his voice filled with a feigned nonchalance, but his eyes flickering to the object in question uncertainly.
Blaine smiled, opening his mouth to say something in return, but Kurt interrupted him.
“Do you want something to drink?” Like he had come upon the realization that perhaps he was being an awful host and had to remedy the situation.
“I-”
“I don’t have any alcohol or anything,” Kurt muttered, toeing off his boots and brushing past Blaine to go to kitchen corner, his feet padding softly against the carpet and Blaine was again filled with an overwhelming sense of secondhand claustrophobia, the largeness of Kurt’s essence in the tiny shoebox of an apartment. “Because I . . . live here . . . and they know I’m not . . . twenty-one,” he muttered, resting a hand on the fridge and staring at it, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Blaine raised an eyebrow in amusement, taking a step forward and leaning against the wall near the kitchen table, letting himself fill with the impalpable creature that was Kurt, strong and beautiful and fumbling over the concept of letting himself trust as deep as he did.
“I can get you something else, though, I have . . . nothing, umm,” Kurt muttered, pulling the fridge open and quickly shutting it. “I have nothing, I have . . . water,” he continued, the a of the word long and drawn out as his gaze flew to the sink. “I have tap water . . . You want tap water or are your people above all that?”
“My people?” Blaine murmured, resisting the urge to smirk as he watched the boy, his bones feeling liquidy and warm.
“Fancy fucking trust fund sparkling water Perrier people-oof!” Kurt muttered, his gaze still so focused on the tap and the possibility of performing the job of a perfect host that he failed to pay any sort of attention to Blaine’s movements and ended up running smack into him. He inhaled at Blaine’s sudden proximity, stepping back until his back hit the fridge, glaring at the smirk that Blaine threw at him.
“Kurt Hummel, you’re not nervous, are you?” he teased.
“Funny, that’s a good joke,” Kurt replied, his lips curling slightly as he tried to keep a straight face, though his eyes started sparkling playfully.
“I am, aren’t I?” Blaine mused, licking his lips as he cast a thoughtful gaze toward the ceiling. “Funny and cute and charming and great in bed. Damn, you’re pretty lucky to have me.”
“Very modest too,” Kurt snorted, his eyebrows raised up toward the graceful upsweep of his semi-styled hair.
“Yes, that too,” Blaine grinned, resting a hand on the cool plastic of the fridge and tilting his head as he leaned in, hovering around Kurt, crowding him into the fridge but leaving a teasing amount of space between their bodies. He could feel Kurt’s heat, the shift of air as Kurt inhaled, his eyes darkening the way the sands of a shore would fall deeper under water as they stretched out to sea. Blaine stared at him, the mixture of colors like one of personalities, of emotions swimming on the waves. The heat, the want, the smallest bit of uncertainty.
Blaine smiled and leaned it, feeling Kurt inhale in anticipation against him as he bumped his nose lightly against Kurt’s, lingering just that tiny bit away. “You’re nervous,” he murmured calmly. “Kurt.”
Kurt’s eyes flickered open and he looked at Blaine, tilting his head to stare at him intently through his lashes. “I . . . told you . . .” he said finally, the words coming out slowly as though he feared that Blaine wouldn’t comprehend him exactly if he spoke at a normal pace. “I don’t . . . bring people back here. I don’t like . . . I told you about all that shit with my dad dying and jouvie and how . . . I don’t like not being in control. Sometimes I think that if I let it go, even a little bit, just let myself relax that I’ll just . . .” he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled and before Blaine could say anything, Kurt ducked out from under his arm and crossed the kitchen in two strides, leaning against the wall and looking out into the expanse of his apartment with a narrowed gaze. “I’m afraid of letting go.”
Blaine watched him from where he was leaning against the counter. Watched the expression with which Kurt watched the various contents of the room, his brows crinkled uncharacteristically with worry and his eyes suddenly impeccably sad, like his life was scattered before him in bits and pieces, with the most important parts missing. But there was something hauntingly noble in the open expression and it squeezed around Blaine’s heart like a blanketing embrace.
He walked as slowly across the tiny room as possible, as though afraid to scare Kurt off, but the boy didn’t look at him, his eyes still trained around the room.
He wound an arm around Kurt’s abdomen, stepping in close and feeling the way that the boy seemed to melt back against him. “I’m not asking you to, you know.”
Kurt shook his head, and Blaine could just see his jaw clenching, could picture the strength of the determined fire blazing in his eyes before he turned around, leaning his back against the wall. “I want to,” he replied, looking at Blaine with an almost-sternness in his eyes, though his brows were still drawn together.
Blaine shook his head, resisting the urge to laugh at the pointed expression. He tilted his head slightly to look at Kurt, his hand rising slightly. He brushed the backs of his fingertips against the smooth, clean-shaven skin of Kurt’s cheek, his thumb sliding against Kurt’s bottom lip as the contact dropped Kurt’s mouth open in a light inhale, his eyes darkening.
He hissed in a breath of air as Kurt’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, sucking Blaine’s thumb into his mouth and he surged forward, pressing Kurt hard against the wall as his lips collided with Kurt’s.
Kurt let out a groan, winding an arm around Blaine’s neck and pulling him closer, allowing him to deepen the attack, the hard, definitive thrust of their tongues against one another. Blaine swallowed the noise, allowing it to fill him, to pound his heart and fill his blood with a desperate rush, a tingle that reverberated throughout his entire body and he pressed forward, his hands roaming all over Kurt’s body, feeling and memorizing and craving. He tossed aside the need to explore and instead took, absorbed every smooth curve, every hard muscle, his hands quickly tugging Kurt’s shirt of his jeans, his hands carving imprints along the skin of Kurt’s lower back.
His hands slipped into the back pockets of Kurt’s skin-tight jeans and he crowded him against the wall, twisting his tongue against Kurt’s as he thrust his hips forward, groaning at the electricity surging through his body. Kurt keened loudly against Blaine’s mouth, thrusting forward against Blaine, the growing hardness of his erection rutting into the leg that had been slotted between his own.
Kurt mumbled a protest as Blaine pulled back, chest hot and straining from emotion and lack of air. He leaned back against the wall and Blaine took him in, lips already bruised and glistening with saliva, eyes ink-black, cheeks flushed, reflecting Blaine’s own want and drowning emotion.
“Bed,” Blaine grunted, his voice coming out low and gruff and even as he inhaled at the commanding tone of the word, Kurt managed to raise a haughty eyebrow in Blaine’s direction.
“Oh?” he started, the exhalation turning into a moan as Blaine surged forward into a brief, hard kiss before stepping away, his lips turned into a smirk.
He didn’t say anything, simply turning on his heel and walking away from the wall partially separating the front door from the kitchen. He pursed his lips smugly when he didn’t hear Kurt following and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it swiftly over his head and tossing it back behind him, keeping his arms stretched over his head, his back muscles flexing in the motion.
He’d barely made it two more steps when Kurt ran into his back, the cotton of his shirt soft as he wound his arms around Blaine’s middle and his teeth bit down on the exposed skin of Blaine’s shoulder. The force of his collision sent them stumbling several paces forward, nearly crashing into the makeshift coffee table. Blaine groaned at the scrape of Kurt’s teeth along his neck, the bruise that he knew would form there, but he pulled away, twisting in Kurt’s arms and pressing a hand to the center of Kurt’s chest, sending him flopping down onto the futon.
Kurt let out an “oof” of breath and reclined back on his elbows, his eyes raking up and down Blaine’s body, his cock straining up against the tight confines of denim.
“Shirt,” Blaine instructed, his chest heaving slightly, limbs quivering slightly with the effort not to simply collapse down onto Kurt. He could feel the heat of Kurt’s gaze, the slow simmer of blood in his veins but he stood, mimicking Kurt’s usual predatory gaze in his own amber eyes.
Kurt cocked an eyebrow up, his tongue poking out of his mouth again slowly, sweeping in a tantalizing motion across his lips, preening in satisfaction as Blaine’s gaze was drawn to it. “Bossy, are we?” he murmured, eyes fixed on Blaine’s, but he sat up slightly, moving his weight of his elbows in order to sweep his own shirt over his head. He tossed it casually at Blaine’s face and settle back into a half reclined position after mussing up his hair further, his feet planted flat on the floor and his knees spread apart slightly. He grinned smugly as Blaine inhaled, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard as he swallowed, his gaze fixed on the rise and fall of Kurt’s chest, the flex of his abdomen as he breathed. The hand that was skimming carelessly along the inside of his thigh.
“Are you just going to stand there or . . . ?” Kurt murmured, his eyes glittering in satisfaction and the expression started Blaine into movement.
“Stomach,” he simply responded, looking pointedly at Kurt.
Kurt blinked in surprise, looking slightly uncertain. “Can you not speak in full sentences anymore?”
Blaine smirked, raising a hand to point direct at Kurt’s crotch. “Unzip your pants and lie on your stomach. I want to try something.”
Kurt looked at him, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before his hands moved to the button of his jeans, his hands working it loose even as he kept his eyes trained on Blaine. The sound of the zipper was jarring in the near-silent apartment, joining the clatter of the heater under the window and mixed sounds of their breaths.
“Fuck,” Blaine murmured, his gaze dropping down to where Kurt’s cock, released from the tight confines of his jeans, strained against his boxer briefs, precome leaking out a small, damp spot on the cotton fabric. He glanced up to see Kurt’s self-confident smirk again and he rolled his eyes and took a step forward, batting at one of Kurt’s thighs with his hand. “Move, Hummel.”
Kurt licked his lips again, his gaze flickering across Blaine’s face before he pulled his legs up and twisted onto his stomach, his upper body propped up slightly as he followed Blaine with his gaze, his torso twisting as Blaine settled down over him, knees straddling Kurt’s ass and leaned down, arms propping him up over Kurt as his lips began tracing a path from the high curve of Kurt’s cheekbone to the shell of his ear, tugging at the flesh between his teeth until Kurt groaned and his shoulders dropped, trying to allow Blaine better access.
Blaine smirked, worrying the soft flesh as he dropped his hips down, grinding his erection against the firm swell of Kurt’s ass. Kurt groaned, the sound vibrating through his body and his head dropped down, his hips thrusting back for more of the contact. Blaine smirked and pulled away, his lips skimming over the smooth flesh of Kurt’s shoulder, tongue dipping between his shoulder blades, picking up beads of sweat as Kurt panted, pushing his hips against the futon. Blaine traced Kurt’s muscles with his tongue, riding over the ridges of his spine as he worked his way lower, sliding down Kurt’s body. His tongue dipped into the small of Kurt’s back, massaging the skin there lightly before he pulled back, his fingers dipping under the material of Kurt’s jeans.
“Hips up,” he murmured softly, placing a kiss at the base of Kurt’s spine before sliding his jeans and briefs over his ass in one fluid motion, moving his own body into the space between Kurt’s legs and down toward the end of the bed as he pulled the material off and left it in a crumpled heap at the foot of the futon. Kurt twisted around at the sound of a zipper, his pupils blown a dark, midnight blue as he watched Blaine shack off his own clothes, his cock dark and straining toward his stomach.
“Blaine,” he started but was cut off as Blaine leaned over him again, his lips pecking quickly against Kurt’s before slowing and kissing him in earnest, hands pressed into the futon. Kurt made a soft noise deep in his throat, his eyes fluttering open as Blaine pulled away and retraced his path down Kurt’s back, his lips pressing into a curved pattern, tongue bumping over Kurt’s spine. He swirled his tongue in the dimples of Kurt’s lower back before pressing his hands into the smooth flesh of Kurt’s ass, his eyes rising to Kurt’s as he pulled them apart, hands kneading the muscle as he observed the twisting line of Kurt’s body as he tried to turn to watch Blaine. Blaine could see him holding his breath, eyes wide in anticipation, though all that disappeared in a groan as Blaine ducked his head down, sweeping his tongue experimentally between Kurt’s parted cheeks.
Kurt let out a guttural noise and his body seemed to uncoil, torso twisting around as his head fell forward with a gasp. Blaine inhaled at the reaction, shifting his body between Kurt’s legs and choking back a groan as his cock rutted against the futon, sending explosions through his body. He breathed out a slow breath, his hands flexing against Kurt’s ass. Kurt groaned loudly, his hips thrusting against the bed at the air that was blown against his hole, the reaction curling and twisting emotion at the pit of Blaine’s stomach. It filled him, aching in every muscle and without thinking further he dived back in, drawing a circling path around Kurt’s hole with the tip of his tongue.
Kurt groaned again, his torso half raised, held up by shaking arms and at the slick feeling of Blaine’s tongue he could feel himself hardening further, body straining between the need to get off, to rut into the futon and the equally overwhelming instinct to thrust his ass back against Blaine’s face.
Blaine chuckled as he sensed the motion, the noise deep and vibrating. He poked his tongue gently past the ring of muscle as he did so, the hum of his tongue choking a breathless, “Oh!” out of Kurt and painting a flush across the back of his neck.
He pressed his fingers hard into the skin of Kurt’s hips, holding him in place as he thrust his tongue in further, his entire face pressed against Kurt’s ass, enveloped in the tight heat of him as he twisted and swirled his tongue, humming every once in a while and causing Kurt to gasp soundlessly around the string of choked out moans that were escaping his lips.
“Blaine,” he groaned, hips jolting into the futon and body quivering with the wet heat, the unexpected electricity, the sinfully good feeling of insanity that was seeping into his core, the fullness that held in it the breathtaking promise. A promise that threatened to shoot explosions throughout Kurt’s body. “Blaine-Jesus-wait . . .”
Almost immediately Blaine pulled back, his absence leaving Kurt empty and suddenly wanting. “Is this okay? Sorry, I thought-”
Kurt twisted around on his back, legs tangling around Blaine’s body before pulling Blaine back on top of him, kissing Blaine hard without even thinking about anything more than the sheer want of closeness. Blaine let out a surprised noise, wrists brushing against the skin of Kurt’s shoulders as he pressed them into the futon to keep his balance as he hovered, his tongue intertwining with Kurt’s as the boy kissed him heartily, pulling their bodies together for a moment before breaking away.
“No, good, it’s good, I just, I want,” Kurt mumbled against Blaine lips, his eyelashes like feathers against Blaine’s cheek.
“Yeah, right, okay,” Blaine replied quickly, his body thrilling and he pulled away far enough to look at Kurt, take him in fully. He could feel his heart attempting to break out of his chest. Kurt stared up at him, lips parted and shining almost as much as the darkness of his blown eyes. Blaine tried to find his voice, his throat working helplessly. He managed out a low, gruff, “Do you have . . .” before it failed him and he simply gestured through the air.
Kurt licked his lips before nodding and sliding quickly out from under Blaine, kneeling down in front of the old trunk near the futon and pushing it open. Blaine could hear the shuffling of contents as Kurt briefly dug through it before slamming it shut, a box of condoms and a think packet of lube in his hands. He hesitated, staring at where Blaine had rolled onto his back in the middle of the futon.
Blaine eyed the near-full box in amusement. “Enthusiastic, are you?” he teased, holding back a laugh when Kurt glared at him. “C’mere.”
He touched Kurt’s wrist gently, fingers gliding over that familiar brand of swirling ink, as soon as Kurt got close enough, guiding Kurt until Kurt was straddling his hips. He eased the materials out of Kurt’s hands, placing them on the mattress as he pulled Kurt down into a kiss, slow and deep, his hands framing both sides of Kurt’s face. Kurt groaned into Blaine’s mouth, pressing him down into the futon, his tongue exploring Blaine’s mouth in earnest, like it was the first time.
“I want you to ride me,” Blaine whispered against the corner of Kurt’s mouth, brushing his lips from the area to the smooth curve of Kurt’s jaw as Kurt let out a surprised noise. He pulled back quickly, staring at Blaine with wide eyes glittering in their arousal.
“What?”
Blaine smiled softly, leaning up and placing small kisses from the high curve of Kurt’s cheekbone to the corner of his lips. “You said you don’t like not being in control. So I want you to keep some of it.”
Kurt swallowed, pulling back again with a furrowed brow, his eyes scanning Blaine’s face in earnest, finding nothing but gentle reassurances and sheer affection, like Blaine’s eyes were two empty classes that had been filled to the brim with it. “You . . .” he started, his voice rough, but he stopped and instead nodded quickly, mumbling out, “Yeah, yeah okay,” before reaching over to where their supplies had been discarded, hands fumbling slightly in his haste before Blaine reached up and joined their hands, squirting out liquid onto his own palm and letting the intertwining of their hands heat it up and spread it over his fingers.
Blaine smiled as Kurt licked his lips, his eyes trained on the shining gel that coated Blaine’s fingers, his eyes connecting with Blaine’s only when Blaine withdrew his hand, sitting up ever so slightly as he reached behind Kurt, his hand brushing carefully between Kurt’s cheek, one finger grazing over his hole.
Kurt’s breathing quickened and he let out a soft whine, pushing his ass back against Blaine’s finger, his eyes locked on Blaine’s. Blaine forced his breathing to be slow, forced himself to ignore the aching need in his own cock. He simply allowed himself to swim in the depth of Kurt’s eyes, waiting until he seemed to relax before pressing his fingertip past that first ring of muscle.
He stilled his movements almost immediately after as Kurt’s eyes widened further and his gasps turned ragged. “Shh, just relax,” he murmured, taking his free hand and brushing it through Kurt’s bangs, shifting closer until he was sucking soft kisses into the curve of Kurt’s jaw, his finger twisting and rotating through the distraction until he felt Kurt loosening bit by bit around him. “I’ve got you.”
He moved when Kurt nodded against his cheek, fingernails scratching slightly against Blaine’s skin where one hand was wrapped around his shoulder. He pushed in slowly to the first knuckle, the second, each time allowing Kurt to adjust around him, until he was pressed in as far as he could go.
“You okay?”
Kurt murmured something inaudible against his ear before nodding quickly, taking a deep breath. “Weird.”
“Good weird?”
“It’s not bad,” Kurt chuckled.
Blaine smiled against the skin of Kurt’s cheek, taking that fact as an invitation to move. He dragged his finger out a couple of centimeters before pushing in, slowly and carefully adding more movement until he had almost pulled out completely and Kurt was instinctively pushing his hips backward, trying to recover lost sensation, the word, “More,” floating out between attempts at carefully controlled breaths.
At the first intrusion of two fingers Kurt let out a small pained noise, his head falling down slight against Blaine’s as he tightened against the intrusion. Blaine knew the feeling, that first moment of an uncomfortable stretch and he continued to brush his free hand through Kurt’s hair, holding their faces closer together as he whispered encouragements into Kurt’s ear, rotating his two fingers gently near Kurt’s opening until he felt Kurt start to relax, the tension in his muscles leaking out. He continued to breathe heavily against Blaine’s ear, the mantra of relaxation running through his head, making no noise until Blaine crooked his fingers upward and found what he was searching for.
Blaine grinned at the loud swear, the way Kurt’s body jerked like someone had set off fireworks inside his nerves, his face awash with the pleasure that had shot through every living cell in his body. He kissed the corner of Kurt’s lips where they were parted as Kurt sought breath, his eyes screwed shut as Blaine continued to rub the spot, fingers working in small little circles before he pulled out and, after a brief moment of hesitation, added one more finger.
He could see it if he pulled away, feel it in the closeness of their bodies. The moment when the stretch stopped being uncomfortable and gave way to a steady flow of pleasure as Blaine pumped in and out, each movement purposefully rubbing over Kurt’s prostate. He could feel Kurt’s grip on his shoulder and was sure that there would be a bruise there, but the thought thrilled him and made him ache all the way through. A handprint, like a marker, binding and permanent.
“Blaine,” Kurt murmured, groaning softly, clenching down around Blaine as Blaine continued to thrust his fingers in and out. “Blaine, I want-”
“Shh, just let me prep you.”
“I just . . . fuck . . . I want more just give me more.”
Blaine licked his lips, his tongue brushing against the skin of Kurt’s face where he was pressed against it before he nodded. Kurt whined in protest as Blaine slid his fingers out, falling back on his haunches as he watched Blaine reach for the box of condoms, quickly plucking one out and ripping off the wrapper. Eyes hooded and dark with anxiety and want, he kept his gaze trained on Blaine’s hands as they slipped the condom on and coated himself liberally with the remainder of the lube. Kurt swallowed, a hand wandering behind himself and gasping at the feel of his own fingers brushing over his stretched hole.
Blaine watched him carefully, reaching a hand to Kurt’s hip to guide him forward until his cock brushed against Kurt’s ass. Kurt’s eyes flickered shut as he felt Blaine’s erection rub along his crack and he pressed both his hands against the skin of Blaine’s chest, leaning into the anchoring pressure of the hand on his hip.
He swallowed at the soft encouragements that were murmured to him as Blaine’s free hand guided his cock to Kurt’s opening, the breath in them hitching slightly as he rubbed his head in small circles before pressing in.
“Oh, my God,” Kurt groaned, head dropping forward with pleasure at the sudden stretch, the fullness of the feeling of having Blaine pressed inside him. His gaze was fixed on Blaine’s collar bone as he was guided backwards, eyes blinking and throat moving with each breath that got caught in it as he was lowered back onto Blaine’s cock.
“Are you okay?” Blaine gasped out as he pressed fully into Kurt, the heat of his body and the tight clench around him churning the liquid of feeling in him with such intensity that he didn’t think that he could hold out much longer. He groaned as he stared at the milky smooth skin of Kurt’s body, long and lean as he stilled with Blaine fully buried inside him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Blaine raked his eyes along the length of Kurt’s body, the hand that had been guiding his cock into Kurt moving along the porcelain skin, fingers dipping into the curves of Kurt’s ribs and abs, memorizing every curve and ever stretch of muscle.
After a moment Kurt nodded and leaned forward, his hands flexing slightly against Blaine’s chest. He lifted himself slightly, feeling Blaine’s heartbeat throbbing through him from the place where his hand was pressed over Blaine’s heart to the point where he was being filled up completely. The thought coursed through his veins, flowing like rapids and with a groan he dropped himself back down, crying out at the pressure, the fullness, the explosion of ecstasy as he filled himself up again.
“Jesus, Kurt,” Blaine whispered, mesmerized by the way Kurt’s skin flushed under his fingers, the slow, tentative way he started his movements before quickly finding the need and want in the drag of his muscles along Blaine’s cock, the fireworks as Blaine’s cock hit his prostate and he started rocking down hard, twisting his hips in circles as he ground down, meeting each of Blaine’s desperate, uncontrollable thrusts upward.
The sudden realization that this was a first, that he was the one being trusted shook Blaine to his core and even as Kurt rocked down, head thrown back with pleasure and nails leaving tiny, crescent moon implants in Blaine’s chest, Blaine surged upward, arms winding around Kurt’s waist to pull him further into his lap, lips pressing hard against Kurt’s.
Kurt let out a startled noise at the unexpected change in position, but it quickly changed into a moan as Blaine was buried balls-deep within him, the head of his cock pressing hard against Kurt’s prostate, every miniscule movement driving sparks of electricity into the twisting coil of heat building at the base of Kurt’s spine.
“Fuck . . . you’re perfect,” Blaine muttered into the skin stretched across Kurt’s collar bone. Kurt moaned softly, arms winding around Blaine’s neck, his cheek pressed into the curls atop Blaine’s head. Blaine’s hands fell down Kurt’s back as he sucked at Kurt’s sweat-beaded skin, pressing into the flesh of Kurt’s ass as he thrust upward, pulling out as much as he could before slamming up into Kurt, relishing the cry of pleasure that rang out from him, the way his arms tightened around Blaine’s neck. “Jesus, I just . . . everything, I . . .”
Kurt gasped as Blaine rocked into him, raising Kurt up and slamming them back together as much and as hard as the angle would allow and he could feel himself coming undone, every nerve quivering, every muscle aching as the tension in his balls built, the fullness of his chest threatened to tear him apart. He keened as he felt one of Blaine’s hands wind around his cock, pumping him hard in rhythm with his thrusts, eyes flying open as a car passed on the street, the shadow cast by its headlights displaying one joined figure instead of two.
“Blaine,” he moaned, the name coming out like a mantra, a prayer, murmured into the dark curls of the boy that was filling him up and tearing him apart at the seams and with each thrust, each twist of his fist, each unintelligible word muttered into the beads of sweat that rolled down his skin he was torn between the need for released and never-ending unity. “Blaine . . . I . . . Blaine” There were words. He had the words, hovering on the tip of his tongue and all it would take would be one short breath-
“I want your everything,” Blaine groaned against him and with a twist of his wrist Kurt felt himself go, devoid of air, everything but the pure phenomenon of feeling that exploded through his body, crashing like the waves of the sea against rock on a stormy night. He came with a shout of Blaine’s name, face burying in the silk of Blaine’s curls as he fell, holding on for dear life. He could feel the tension of Blaine’s body, the pulse of him inside of Kurt as he came into the condom, body raking with shocks of lightning that had him digging his fingers in into every inch of Kurt’s skin that he could reach, holding him close as they rode their highs and fell from them.
As the aftershocks rode away from them and their bodies turned boneless, Blaine fell backward onto the futon, pulling Kurt with him. Kurt groaned softly but didn’t move, his pliant limbs wrapped around Blaine as his breaths evened, his heartbeat steadying out but never quite losing its intensity.
Blaine wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, Kurt collapsed atop Blaine, Blaine buried inside of him.
He placed soft kisses to Kurt’s forehead, brushing his bangs away as he gently shifted his hips, pulling himself out slowly. Kurt let out a noise of protest, moaning softly at the emptiness that remained without Blaine in him and, as Blaine carefully pulled the condom off and tossed it in the direction of a trash can, Kurt curled in close to him, body pressed along the length of Blaine’s side, arm wound around Blaine’s torso to keep him in place.
“You okay?” Blaine murmured softly, running a hand between Kurt’s shoulder blades, smiling slightly at the exhaustion that replaced the ecstasy that had been wrenched out of Kurt’s every limb.
Kurt hummed softly in acknowledgment, letting out a quiet little sigh. “Mmm, good, yeah, great.”
Blaine chuckled, that newly familiar feeling of love and affection warming each point of contact between his body and Kurt’s. “So good reviews, huh?” he teased.
Kurt let out a tiny snort of agreement, though it quickly turned quiet at the weight exhaustion and emotion trying to force his eyes closed. “You make me so happy,” he mumbled sleepily into the curve of Blaine’s neck, shifting his body as close as he could.
Blaine exhaled softly, bringing a hand up to wrap around Kurt’s shoulders and threading his fingers through Kurt’s hair, moving them absentmindedly as the emotion coursing through him weighted his whole body down into the mattress. “I know the feeling.”
***
The red baseball cap on the nail outside swayed slightly in the breeze before being snatched up and plucked back onto a head of short-cut hair. The headlights of a station wagon illuminated the empty space that had once been occupied by it as its owner shuffled back to the car, hands jammed in his pockets and head bowed against the wind.
“Hurry up, Dave!”
He started at the shout of his name, riding over the blaring bass of the rap music that was blasting from the speakers of the car. He hadn’t even realized he had paused outside his car door, his gaze trained at the vehicle that was parked, dark and looking very permanent, in front of 5D. He stared between the door and the car and felt something stirring in him, an unpleasant feeling coursing through his veins, giving him the most incredible urge to punch a hole in the windshield of Mercedes.
He probably could have if he tried.
“Fucking fairies,” he heard from the driver’s side of the car, sound quiet but more audible as the music was turned down and Azimio leaned out the opening window, staring at Kurt Hummel’s door with disgust. “We could . . . break up the party. Show them we ain’t tolerating any of their shit.”
He could feel his lips twisting into a hateful expression and his hand twitched in his pocket the longer he stared at the damn car. He considered Azimio’s words but brushed them aside, knowing he would be too scared shitless of that Hummel kid to do anything about it.
He shook his head, turning finally to pull open the door and slip inside, fiddling with his phone as he slammed the door shut. “Fucking hell, I don’t want to see any of that shit,” he muttered, thumbing over the screen. He could still see that damn car and it bothered him that it elicited such a reaction in him. “No, I’ve got a better idea.”
***
Blaine wasn’t sure if either of them had fallen asleep, the comfortable silence and the dual movements of their chests, slow and lazy and full stretching through the minutes. His hand had stilled in Kurt’s hair and he had felt the boy’s eyelashes fluttering against his shoulder until they came to rest, his eyes closed.
He could feel himself on the verge of sleep, the soft, pleasant fogginess of it seeping under his skin and he could have imagined it, but he was positive he didn’t.
“Blaine?”
He didn’t open his eyes, could feel them weighted down by a lingering sleep.
“Blaine? Are you awake?” Kurt murmured against his skin, so quiet that Blaine could barely hear him over the periodic clattering of the radiator under the window. Like he was trying not to wake Blaine. Like he wanted the answer to be a negative, stretching out on the silence around them.
Kurt shifted slightly against him, his body stretching slowly and lazily, his face angled up until it was close to Blaine’s ear. Blaine could feel Kurt’s eyes, the hard gaze through the darkness in an attempt to see. That gaze fell when Kurt seemed to determine that Blaine was in fact asleep and he leaned his head down until it was nestled in the space linking Blaine’s neck and shoulders, his lips brushing against the bare, warm skin there.
There was silence again, long and slow and full and Blaine almost thought Kurt had fallen asleep, thought he had maybe fallen asleep himself, had imagined it, when he felt Kurt draw a shuddering breath and hold it, long until it seemed like he had no choice but to let it go and when he did it came in a whisper of words stumbling over one another, smearing together into a quick, indiscernible IthinkI’minlovewithyou.
Blaine was fairly certain he’d stopped breathing, the steadiness of his breaths hitching slightly at the skip in his pulse and Kurt seemed to freeze at the movement, his body stiffening as he waited. When Blaine didn’t move, his breathing returning and his pulse beating again as normal despite the rush of adrenaline throughout his whole body, Kurt relaxed, letting out a quiet laugh, like he was relieved the ceiling hadn’t collapsed in on him.
“I think I’m in love with you,” he repeated, a little surer of himself, the words louder and murmured into the skin stretched over Blaine’s collar bone, emblazoned in his skin in case he woke up and thought that he’d dreamt them.
Almost as soon as he’d said them, Blaine could feel Kurt’s mouth curving into a grin, his face turning to nuzzle further into Blaine’s neck, his eyelashes tickling his skin as he closed his eyes, his body pressing further into Blaine’s side as he chuckled. “How about that.”
Author: blasthisass / goldenwarbler
Rating: up to NC-17
Summary: As disagreements continue to rage in the Anderson household, Blaine is forced to spend his evenings behind a bar to pay his way through OSU. It’s not an ideal solution, but the money is good and he manages well enough. That may very well change, however, when the interested gaze of Kurt Hummel, self-proclaimed resident bad-boy, lands on him. And it seems that Kurt doesn’t have the word ‘no’ in his vocabulary.
Previous Chapters: Here
Disclaimers: No one is mine. Move along now.
Warnings: none for this chapter
Spoilers: None
Blaine drummed his fingers lightly against his steering wheel, turning his head to look at Kurt, who was staring intently at his own front door. “So, are we going in or are we planning on sitting here all night?”
Kurt frowned, his gaze still trained on the door before he nodded briefly. “Stay in the car,” he murmured softly, his hand reaching for the door handle.
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Going to leave me hanging twice in one night?” he asked, his voice teasing, but just slightly wary.
Kurt licked his lips, his gaze still scanning over the dirty wood of his front door, the precarious sway of the number nailed to it, like it would fall off with a strong enough breeze. “No, that’s not it. I just . . . going to make sure they’re not around,” he replied quietly, more to himself to Blaine and he popped the door open quickly, swinging his legs onto the pavement. “Stay here,” he repeated before ducking out of the car and slamming the door shut. He walked swiftly toward his door, hand thrusting into his pocket and pulling out a small ring of keys. His shoulders were hunched, as though against the wind, but Blaine could tell he was trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible, despite the fact that not a soul could be spotted on the long stretch of pavement in front of the building.
He fiddled quickly with the lock, his gaze focused intently on where his key fit smoothly into it and when the door popped open he waved at the car, his gaze directed down the row of doors to where empty bottles and cigarette butts were the only remnants of the group that had lingered there earlier, and a baseball cap hanging on a nail in the rotting wood of the porch rail was the only indication that they might be back.
He stepped in quickly after Blaine passed him, leaning against the door to ensure that it was closed properly, his hands fiddling with a series of locks before turning to Blaine. His hands rose to work the buttons of his coat, mechanically as he watched Blaine, as though he were trying to give them something to do. Blaine smiled reassuringly at him before glancing around the apartment, his curiosity capturing him.
It was small, tiny and dingy in a way that held in it an attempt to clean and make home-like, but without much effect. The single room was spread out in front of him, cramped depite the small amount of furniture in it, the kitchen bleeding through to the main room. The only thing separating the two sections was a worn, vintage-looking room divider, just hiding an unmade futon from view, the corner of a white sheet tangling centimeters from the ground.
There was something about it, Blaine knew that as he looked from the old trunk sitting between the futon and the window, masquerading as a makeshift coffee table, to the kitchen, little and grimy with barely enough room to move around. It was small, all so small and that was what seemed to strike Blaine most about it. Small and plain, two things that Kurt was certainly not and he wondered how it was that Kurt fit in there without going mad. Whether he even did.
He glanced over his shoulder and Kurt made a face, his brows furrowed together. “So . . .”
“I like that,” Blaine interrupted, gesturing toward the divider.
Kurt smiled weakly, the expression not quite reaching his eyes, as though he felt that Blaine was placating him. He reached up a hand to scratch at a spot behind his left ear, his nose crinkling slightly. “It was my mom’s,” he answered with a shrug, his voice filled with a feigned nonchalance, but his eyes flickering to the object in question uncertainly.
Blaine smiled, opening his mouth to say something in return, but Kurt interrupted him.
“Do you want something to drink?” Like he had come upon the realization that perhaps he was being an awful host and had to remedy the situation.
“I-”
“I don’t have any alcohol or anything,” Kurt muttered, toeing off his boots and brushing past Blaine to go to kitchen corner, his feet padding softly against the carpet and Blaine was again filled with an overwhelming sense of secondhand claustrophobia, the largeness of Kurt’s essence in the tiny shoebox of an apartment. “Because I . . . live here . . . and they know I’m not . . . twenty-one,” he muttered, resting a hand on the fridge and staring at it, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Blaine raised an eyebrow in amusement, taking a step forward and leaning against the wall near the kitchen table, letting himself fill with the impalpable creature that was Kurt, strong and beautiful and fumbling over the concept of letting himself trust as deep as he did.
“I can get you something else, though, I have . . . nothing, umm,” Kurt muttered, pulling the fridge open and quickly shutting it. “I have nothing, I have . . . water,” he continued, the a of the word long and drawn out as his gaze flew to the sink. “I have tap water . . . You want tap water or are your people above all that?”
“My people?” Blaine murmured, resisting the urge to smirk as he watched the boy, his bones feeling liquidy and warm.
“Fancy fucking trust fund sparkling water Perrier people-oof!” Kurt muttered, his gaze still so focused on the tap and the possibility of performing the job of a perfect host that he failed to pay any sort of attention to Blaine’s movements and ended up running smack into him. He inhaled at Blaine’s sudden proximity, stepping back until his back hit the fridge, glaring at the smirk that Blaine threw at him.
“Kurt Hummel, you’re not nervous, are you?” he teased.
“Funny, that’s a good joke,” Kurt replied, his lips curling slightly as he tried to keep a straight face, though his eyes started sparkling playfully.
“I am, aren’t I?” Blaine mused, licking his lips as he cast a thoughtful gaze toward the ceiling. “Funny and cute and charming and great in bed. Damn, you’re pretty lucky to have me.”
“Very modest too,” Kurt snorted, his eyebrows raised up toward the graceful upsweep of his semi-styled hair.
“Yes, that too,” Blaine grinned, resting a hand on the cool plastic of the fridge and tilting his head as he leaned in, hovering around Kurt, crowding him into the fridge but leaving a teasing amount of space between their bodies. He could feel Kurt’s heat, the shift of air as Kurt inhaled, his eyes darkening the way the sands of a shore would fall deeper under water as they stretched out to sea. Blaine stared at him, the mixture of colors like one of personalities, of emotions swimming on the waves. The heat, the want, the smallest bit of uncertainty.
Blaine smiled and leaned it, feeling Kurt inhale in anticipation against him as he bumped his nose lightly against Kurt’s, lingering just that tiny bit away. “You’re nervous,” he murmured calmly. “Kurt.”
Kurt’s eyes flickered open and he looked at Blaine, tilting his head to stare at him intently through his lashes. “I . . . told you . . .” he said finally, the words coming out slowly as though he feared that Blaine wouldn’t comprehend him exactly if he spoke at a normal pace. “I don’t . . . bring people back here. I don’t like . . . I told you about all that shit with my dad dying and jouvie and how . . . I don’t like not being in control. Sometimes I think that if I let it go, even a little bit, just let myself relax that I’ll just . . .” he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled and before Blaine could say anything, Kurt ducked out from under his arm and crossed the kitchen in two strides, leaning against the wall and looking out into the expanse of his apartment with a narrowed gaze. “I’m afraid of letting go.”
Blaine watched him from where he was leaning against the counter. Watched the expression with which Kurt watched the various contents of the room, his brows crinkled uncharacteristically with worry and his eyes suddenly impeccably sad, like his life was scattered before him in bits and pieces, with the most important parts missing. But there was something hauntingly noble in the open expression and it squeezed around Blaine’s heart like a blanketing embrace.
He walked as slowly across the tiny room as possible, as though afraid to scare Kurt off, but the boy didn’t look at him, his eyes still trained around the room.
He wound an arm around Kurt’s abdomen, stepping in close and feeling the way that the boy seemed to melt back against him. “I’m not asking you to, you know.”
Kurt shook his head, and Blaine could just see his jaw clenching, could picture the strength of the determined fire blazing in his eyes before he turned around, leaning his back against the wall. “I want to,” he replied, looking at Blaine with an almost-sternness in his eyes, though his brows were still drawn together.
Blaine shook his head, resisting the urge to laugh at the pointed expression. He tilted his head slightly to look at Kurt, his hand rising slightly. He brushed the backs of his fingertips against the smooth, clean-shaven skin of Kurt’s cheek, his thumb sliding against Kurt’s bottom lip as the contact dropped Kurt’s mouth open in a light inhale, his eyes darkening.
He hissed in a breath of air as Kurt’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, sucking Blaine’s thumb into his mouth and he surged forward, pressing Kurt hard against the wall as his lips collided with Kurt’s.
Kurt let out a groan, winding an arm around Blaine’s neck and pulling him closer, allowing him to deepen the attack, the hard, definitive thrust of their tongues against one another. Blaine swallowed the noise, allowing it to fill him, to pound his heart and fill his blood with a desperate rush, a tingle that reverberated throughout his entire body and he pressed forward, his hands roaming all over Kurt’s body, feeling and memorizing and craving. He tossed aside the need to explore and instead took, absorbed every smooth curve, every hard muscle, his hands quickly tugging Kurt’s shirt of his jeans, his hands carving imprints along the skin of Kurt’s lower back.
His hands slipped into the back pockets of Kurt’s skin-tight jeans and he crowded him against the wall, twisting his tongue against Kurt’s as he thrust his hips forward, groaning at the electricity surging through his body. Kurt keened loudly against Blaine’s mouth, thrusting forward against Blaine, the growing hardness of his erection rutting into the leg that had been slotted between his own.
Kurt mumbled a protest as Blaine pulled back, chest hot and straining from emotion and lack of air. He leaned back against the wall and Blaine took him in, lips already bruised and glistening with saliva, eyes ink-black, cheeks flushed, reflecting Blaine’s own want and drowning emotion.
“Bed,” Blaine grunted, his voice coming out low and gruff and even as he inhaled at the commanding tone of the word, Kurt managed to raise a haughty eyebrow in Blaine’s direction.
“Oh?” he started, the exhalation turning into a moan as Blaine surged forward into a brief, hard kiss before stepping away, his lips turned into a smirk.
He didn’t say anything, simply turning on his heel and walking away from the wall partially separating the front door from the kitchen. He pursed his lips smugly when he didn’t hear Kurt following and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it swiftly over his head and tossing it back behind him, keeping his arms stretched over his head, his back muscles flexing in the motion.
He’d barely made it two more steps when Kurt ran into his back, the cotton of his shirt soft as he wound his arms around Blaine’s middle and his teeth bit down on the exposed skin of Blaine’s shoulder. The force of his collision sent them stumbling several paces forward, nearly crashing into the makeshift coffee table. Blaine groaned at the scrape of Kurt’s teeth along his neck, the bruise that he knew would form there, but he pulled away, twisting in Kurt’s arms and pressing a hand to the center of Kurt’s chest, sending him flopping down onto the futon.
Kurt let out an “oof” of breath and reclined back on his elbows, his eyes raking up and down Blaine’s body, his cock straining up against the tight confines of denim.
“Shirt,” Blaine instructed, his chest heaving slightly, limbs quivering slightly with the effort not to simply collapse down onto Kurt. He could feel the heat of Kurt’s gaze, the slow simmer of blood in his veins but he stood, mimicking Kurt’s usual predatory gaze in his own amber eyes.
Kurt cocked an eyebrow up, his tongue poking out of his mouth again slowly, sweeping in a tantalizing motion across his lips, preening in satisfaction as Blaine’s gaze was drawn to it. “Bossy, are we?” he murmured, eyes fixed on Blaine’s, but he sat up slightly, moving his weight of his elbows in order to sweep his own shirt over his head. He tossed it casually at Blaine’s face and settle back into a half reclined position after mussing up his hair further, his feet planted flat on the floor and his knees spread apart slightly. He grinned smugly as Blaine inhaled, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard as he swallowed, his gaze fixed on the rise and fall of Kurt’s chest, the flex of his abdomen as he breathed. The hand that was skimming carelessly along the inside of his thigh.
“Are you just going to stand there or . . . ?” Kurt murmured, his eyes glittering in satisfaction and the expression started Blaine into movement.
“Stomach,” he simply responded, looking pointedly at Kurt.
Kurt blinked in surprise, looking slightly uncertain. “Can you not speak in full sentences anymore?”
Blaine smirked, raising a hand to point direct at Kurt’s crotch. “Unzip your pants and lie on your stomach. I want to try something.”
Kurt looked at him, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before his hands moved to the button of his jeans, his hands working it loose even as he kept his eyes trained on Blaine. The sound of the zipper was jarring in the near-silent apartment, joining the clatter of the heater under the window and mixed sounds of their breaths.
“Fuck,” Blaine murmured, his gaze dropping down to where Kurt’s cock, released from the tight confines of his jeans, strained against his boxer briefs, precome leaking out a small, damp spot on the cotton fabric. He glanced up to see Kurt’s self-confident smirk again and he rolled his eyes and took a step forward, batting at one of Kurt’s thighs with his hand. “Move, Hummel.”
Kurt licked his lips again, his gaze flickering across Blaine’s face before he pulled his legs up and twisted onto his stomach, his upper body propped up slightly as he followed Blaine with his gaze, his torso twisting as Blaine settled down over him, knees straddling Kurt’s ass and leaned down, arms propping him up over Kurt as his lips began tracing a path from the high curve of Kurt’s cheekbone to the shell of his ear, tugging at the flesh between his teeth until Kurt groaned and his shoulders dropped, trying to allow Blaine better access.
Blaine smirked, worrying the soft flesh as he dropped his hips down, grinding his erection against the firm swell of Kurt’s ass. Kurt groaned, the sound vibrating through his body and his head dropped down, his hips thrusting back for more of the contact. Blaine smirked and pulled away, his lips skimming over the smooth flesh of Kurt’s shoulder, tongue dipping between his shoulder blades, picking up beads of sweat as Kurt panted, pushing his hips against the futon. Blaine traced Kurt’s muscles with his tongue, riding over the ridges of his spine as he worked his way lower, sliding down Kurt’s body. His tongue dipped into the small of Kurt’s back, massaging the skin there lightly before he pulled back, his fingers dipping under the material of Kurt’s jeans.
“Hips up,” he murmured softly, placing a kiss at the base of Kurt’s spine before sliding his jeans and briefs over his ass in one fluid motion, moving his own body into the space between Kurt’s legs and down toward the end of the bed as he pulled the material off and left it in a crumpled heap at the foot of the futon. Kurt twisted around at the sound of a zipper, his pupils blown a dark, midnight blue as he watched Blaine shack off his own clothes, his cock dark and straining toward his stomach.
“Blaine,” he started but was cut off as Blaine leaned over him again, his lips pecking quickly against Kurt’s before slowing and kissing him in earnest, hands pressed into the futon. Kurt made a soft noise deep in his throat, his eyes fluttering open as Blaine pulled away and retraced his path down Kurt’s back, his lips pressing into a curved pattern, tongue bumping over Kurt’s spine. He swirled his tongue in the dimples of Kurt’s lower back before pressing his hands into the smooth flesh of Kurt’s ass, his eyes rising to Kurt’s as he pulled them apart, hands kneading the muscle as he observed the twisting line of Kurt’s body as he tried to turn to watch Blaine. Blaine could see him holding his breath, eyes wide in anticipation, though all that disappeared in a groan as Blaine ducked his head down, sweeping his tongue experimentally between Kurt’s parted cheeks.
Kurt let out a guttural noise and his body seemed to uncoil, torso twisting around as his head fell forward with a gasp. Blaine inhaled at the reaction, shifting his body between Kurt’s legs and choking back a groan as his cock rutted against the futon, sending explosions through his body. He breathed out a slow breath, his hands flexing against Kurt’s ass. Kurt groaned loudly, his hips thrusting against the bed at the air that was blown against his hole, the reaction curling and twisting emotion at the pit of Blaine’s stomach. It filled him, aching in every muscle and without thinking further he dived back in, drawing a circling path around Kurt’s hole with the tip of his tongue.
Kurt groaned again, his torso half raised, held up by shaking arms and at the slick feeling of Blaine’s tongue he could feel himself hardening further, body straining between the need to get off, to rut into the futon and the equally overwhelming instinct to thrust his ass back against Blaine’s face.
Blaine chuckled as he sensed the motion, the noise deep and vibrating. He poked his tongue gently past the ring of muscle as he did so, the hum of his tongue choking a breathless, “Oh!” out of Kurt and painting a flush across the back of his neck.
He pressed his fingers hard into the skin of Kurt’s hips, holding him in place as he thrust his tongue in further, his entire face pressed against Kurt’s ass, enveloped in the tight heat of him as he twisted and swirled his tongue, humming every once in a while and causing Kurt to gasp soundlessly around the string of choked out moans that were escaping his lips.
“Blaine,” he groaned, hips jolting into the futon and body quivering with the wet heat, the unexpected electricity, the sinfully good feeling of insanity that was seeping into his core, the fullness that held in it the breathtaking promise. A promise that threatened to shoot explosions throughout Kurt’s body. “Blaine-Jesus-wait . . .”
Almost immediately Blaine pulled back, his absence leaving Kurt empty and suddenly wanting. “Is this okay? Sorry, I thought-”
Kurt twisted around on his back, legs tangling around Blaine’s body before pulling Blaine back on top of him, kissing Blaine hard without even thinking about anything more than the sheer want of closeness. Blaine let out a surprised noise, wrists brushing against the skin of Kurt’s shoulders as he pressed them into the futon to keep his balance as he hovered, his tongue intertwining with Kurt’s as the boy kissed him heartily, pulling their bodies together for a moment before breaking away.
“No, good, it’s good, I just, I want,” Kurt mumbled against Blaine lips, his eyelashes like feathers against Blaine’s cheek.
“Yeah, right, okay,” Blaine replied quickly, his body thrilling and he pulled away far enough to look at Kurt, take him in fully. He could feel his heart attempting to break out of his chest. Kurt stared up at him, lips parted and shining almost as much as the darkness of his blown eyes. Blaine tried to find his voice, his throat working helplessly. He managed out a low, gruff, “Do you have . . .” before it failed him and he simply gestured through the air.
Kurt licked his lips before nodding and sliding quickly out from under Blaine, kneeling down in front of the old trunk near the futon and pushing it open. Blaine could hear the shuffling of contents as Kurt briefly dug through it before slamming it shut, a box of condoms and a think packet of lube in his hands. He hesitated, staring at where Blaine had rolled onto his back in the middle of the futon.
Blaine eyed the near-full box in amusement. “Enthusiastic, are you?” he teased, holding back a laugh when Kurt glared at him. “C’mere.”
He touched Kurt’s wrist gently, fingers gliding over that familiar brand of swirling ink, as soon as Kurt got close enough, guiding Kurt until Kurt was straddling his hips. He eased the materials out of Kurt’s hands, placing them on the mattress as he pulled Kurt down into a kiss, slow and deep, his hands framing both sides of Kurt’s face. Kurt groaned into Blaine’s mouth, pressing him down into the futon, his tongue exploring Blaine’s mouth in earnest, like it was the first time.
“I want you to ride me,” Blaine whispered against the corner of Kurt’s mouth, brushing his lips from the area to the smooth curve of Kurt’s jaw as Kurt let out a surprised noise. He pulled back quickly, staring at Blaine with wide eyes glittering in their arousal.
“What?”
Blaine smiled softly, leaning up and placing small kisses from the high curve of Kurt’s cheekbone to the corner of his lips. “You said you don’t like not being in control. So I want you to keep some of it.”
Kurt swallowed, pulling back again with a furrowed brow, his eyes scanning Blaine’s face in earnest, finding nothing but gentle reassurances and sheer affection, like Blaine’s eyes were two empty classes that had been filled to the brim with it. “You . . .” he started, his voice rough, but he stopped and instead nodded quickly, mumbling out, “Yeah, yeah okay,” before reaching over to where their supplies had been discarded, hands fumbling slightly in his haste before Blaine reached up and joined their hands, squirting out liquid onto his own palm and letting the intertwining of their hands heat it up and spread it over his fingers.
Blaine smiled as Kurt licked his lips, his eyes trained on the shining gel that coated Blaine’s fingers, his eyes connecting with Blaine’s only when Blaine withdrew his hand, sitting up ever so slightly as he reached behind Kurt, his hand brushing carefully between Kurt’s cheek, one finger grazing over his hole.
Kurt’s breathing quickened and he let out a soft whine, pushing his ass back against Blaine’s finger, his eyes locked on Blaine’s. Blaine forced his breathing to be slow, forced himself to ignore the aching need in his own cock. He simply allowed himself to swim in the depth of Kurt’s eyes, waiting until he seemed to relax before pressing his fingertip past that first ring of muscle.
He stilled his movements almost immediately after as Kurt’s eyes widened further and his gasps turned ragged. “Shh, just relax,” he murmured, taking his free hand and brushing it through Kurt’s bangs, shifting closer until he was sucking soft kisses into the curve of Kurt’s jaw, his finger twisting and rotating through the distraction until he felt Kurt loosening bit by bit around him. “I’ve got you.”
He moved when Kurt nodded against his cheek, fingernails scratching slightly against Blaine’s skin where one hand was wrapped around his shoulder. He pushed in slowly to the first knuckle, the second, each time allowing Kurt to adjust around him, until he was pressed in as far as he could go.
“You okay?”
Kurt murmured something inaudible against his ear before nodding quickly, taking a deep breath. “Weird.”
“Good weird?”
“It’s not bad,” Kurt chuckled.
Blaine smiled against the skin of Kurt’s cheek, taking that fact as an invitation to move. He dragged his finger out a couple of centimeters before pushing in, slowly and carefully adding more movement until he had almost pulled out completely and Kurt was instinctively pushing his hips backward, trying to recover lost sensation, the word, “More,” floating out between attempts at carefully controlled breaths.
At the first intrusion of two fingers Kurt let out a small pained noise, his head falling down slight against Blaine’s as he tightened against the intrusion. Blaine knew the feeling, that first moment of an uncomfortable stretch and he continued to brush his free hand through Kurt’s hair, holding their faces closer together as he whispered encouragements into Kurt’s ear, rotating his two fingers gently near Kurt’s opening until he felt Kurt start to relax, the tension in his muscles leaking out. He continued to breathe heavily against Blaine’s ear, the mantra of relaxation running through his head, making no noise until Blaine crooked his fingers upward and found what he was searching for.
Blaine grinned at the loud swear, the way Kurt’s body jerked like someone had set off fireworks inside his nerves, his face awash with the pleasure that had shot through every living cell in his body. He kissed the corner of Kurt’s lips where they were parted as Kurt sought breath, his eyes screwed shut as Blaine continued to rub the spot, fingers working in small little circles before he pulled out and, after a brief moment of hesitation, added one more finger.
He could see it if he pulled away, feel it in the closeness of their bodies. The moment when the stretch stopped being uncomfortable and gave way to a steady flow of pleasure as Blaine pumped in and out, each movement purposefully rubbing over Kurt’s prostate. He could feel Kurt’s grip on his shoulder and was sure that there would be a bruise there, but the thought thrilled him and made him ache all the way through. A handprint, like a marker, binding and permanent.
“Blaine,” Kurt murmured, groaning softly, clenching down around Blaine as Blaine continued to thrust his fingers in and out. “Blaine, I want-”
“Shh, just let me prep you.”
“I just . . . fuck . . . I want more just give me more.”
Blaine licked his lips, his tongue brushing against the skin of Kurt’s face where he was pressed against it before he nodded. Kurt whined in protest as Blaine slid his fingers out, falling back on his haunches as he watched Blaine reach for the box of condoms, quickly plucking one out and ripping off the wrapper. Eyes hooded and dark with anxiety and want, he kept his gaze trained on Blaine’s hands as they slipped the condom on and coated himself liberally with the remainder of the lube. Kurt swallowed, a hand wandering behind himself and gasping at the feel of his own fingers brushing over his stretched hole.
Blaine watched him carefully, reaching a hand to Kurt’s hip to guide him forward until his cock brushed against Kurt’s ass. Kurt’s eyes flickered shut as he felt Blaine’s erection rub along his crack and he pressed both his hands against the skin of Blaine’s chest, leaning into the anchoring pressure of the hand on his hip.
He swallowed at the soft encouragements that were murmured to him as Blaine’s free hand guided his cock to Kurt’s opening, the breath in them hitching slightly as he rubbed his head in small circles before pressing in.
“Oh, my God,” Kurt groaned, head dropping forward with pleasure at the sudden stretch, the fullness of the feeling of having Blaine pressed inside him. His gaze was fixed on Blaine’s collar bone as he was guided backwards, eyes blinking and throat moving with each breath that got caught in it as he was lowered back onto Blaine’s cock.
“Are you okay?” Blaine gasped out as he pressed fully into Kurt, the heat of his body and the tight clench around him churning the liquid of feeling in him with such intensity that he didn’t think that he could hold out much longer. He groaned as he stared at the milky smooth skin of Kurt’s body, long and lean as he stilled with Blaine fully buried inside him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Blaine raked his eyes along the length of Kurt’s body, the hand that had been guiding his cock into Kurt moving along the porcelain skin, fingers dipping into the curves of Kurt’s ribs and abs, memorizing every curve and ever stretch of muscle.
After a moment Kurt nodded and leaned forward, his hands flexing slightly against Blaine’s chest. He lifted himself slightly, feeling Blaine’s heartbeat throbbing through him from the place where his hand was pressed over Blaine’s heart to the point where he was being filled up completely. The thought coursed through his veins, flowing like rapids and with a groan he dropped himself back down, crying out at the pressure, the fullness, the explosion of ecstasy as he filled himself up again.
“Jesus, Kurt,” Blaine whispered, mesmerized by the way Kurt’s skin flushed under his fingers, the slow, tentative way he started his movements before quickly finding the need and want in the drag of his muscles along Blaine’s cock, the fireworks as Blaine’s cock hit his prostate and he started rocking down hard, twisting his hips in circles as he ground down, meeting each of Blaine’s desperate, uncontrollable thrusts upward.
The sudden realization that this was a first, that he was the one being trusted shook Blaine to his core and even as Kurt rocked down, head thrown back with pleasure and nails leaving tiny, crescent moon implants in Blaine’s chest, Blaine surged upward, arms winding around Kurt’s waist to pull him further into his lap, lips pressing hard against Kurt’s.
Kurt let out a startled noise at the unexpected change in position, but it quickly changed into a moan as Blaine was buried balls-deep within him, the head of his cock pressing hard against Kurt’s prostate, every miniscule movement driving sparks of electricity into the twisting coil of heat building at the base of Kurt’s spine.
“Fuck . . . you’re perfect,” Blaine muttered into the skin stretched across Kurt’s collar bone. Kurt moaned softly, arms winding around Blaine’s neck, his cheek pressed into the curls atop Blaine’s head. Blaine’s hands fell down Kurt’s back as he sucked at Kurt’s sweat-beaded skin, pressing into the flesh of Kurt’s ass as he thrust upward, pulling out as much as he could before slamming up into Kurt, relishing the cry of pleasure that rang out from him, the way his arms tightened around Blaine’s neck. “Jesus, I just . . . everything, I . . .”
Kurt gasped as Blaine rocked into him, raising Kurt up and slamming them back together as much and as hard as the angle would allow and he could feel himself coming undone, every nerve quivering, every muscle aching as the tension in his balls built, the fullness of his chest threatened to tear him apart. He keened as he felt one of Blaine’s hands wind around his cock, pumping him hard in rhythm with his thrusts, eyes flying open as a car passed on the street, the shadow cast by its headlights displaying one joined figure instead of two.
“Blaine,” he moaned, the name coming out like a mantra, a prayer, murmured into the dark curls of the boy that was filling him up and tearing him apart at the seams and with each thrust, each twist of his fist, each unintelligible word muttered into the beads of sweat that rolled down his skin he was torn between the need for released and never-ending unity. “Blaine . . . I . . . Blaine” There were words. He had the words, hovering on the tip of his tongue and all it would take would be one short breath-
“I want your everything,” Blaine groaned against him and with a twist of his wrist Kurt felt himself go, devoid of air, everything but the pure phenomenon of feeling that exploded through his body, crashing like the waves of the sea against rock on a stormy night. He came with a shout of Blaine’s name, face burying in the silk of Blaine’s curls as he fell, holding on for dear life. He could feel the tension of Blaine’s body, the pulse of him inside of Kurt as he came into the condom, body raking with shocks of lightning that had him digging his fingers in into every inch of Kurt’s skin that he could reach, holding him close as they rode their highs and fell from them.
As the aftershocks rode away from them and their bodies turned boneless, Blaine fell backward onto the futon, pulling Kurt with him. Kurt groaned softly but didn’t move, his pliant limbs wrapped around Blaine as his breaths evened, his heartbeat steadying out but never quite losing its intensity.
Blaine wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, Kurt collapsed atop Blaine, Blaine buried inside of him.
He placed soft kisses to Kurt’s forehead, brushing his bangs away as he gently shifted his hips, pulling himself out slowly. Kurt let out a noise of protest, moaning softly at the emptiness that remained without Blaine in him and, as Blaine carefully pulled the condom off and tossed it in the direction of a trash can, Kurt curled in close to him, body pressed along the length of Blaine’s side, arm wound around Blaine’s torso to keep him in place.
“You okay?” Blaine murmured softly, running a hand between Kurt’s shoulder blades, smiling slightly at the exhaustion that replaced the ecstasy that had been wrenched out of Kurt’s every limb.
Kurt hummed softly in acknowledgment, letting out a quiet little sigh. “Mmm, good, yeah, great.”
Blaine chuckled, that newly familiar feeling of love and affection warming each point of contact between his body and Kurt’s. “So good reviews, huh?” he teased.
Kurt let out a tiny snort of agreement, though it quickly turned quiet at the weight exhaustion and emotion trying to force his eyes closed. “You make me so happy,” he mumbled sleepily into the curve of Blaine’s neck, shifting his body as close as he could.
Blaine exhaled softly, bringing a hand up to wrap around Kurt’s shoulders and threading his fingers through Kurt’s hair, moving them absentmindedly as the emotion coursing through him weighted his whole body down into the mattress. “I know the feeling.”
***
The red baseball cap on the nail outside swayed slightly in the breeze before being snatched up and plucked back onto a head of short-cut hair. The headlights of a station wagon illuminated the empty space that had once been occupied by it as its owner shuffled back to the car, hands jammed in his pockets and head bowed against the wind.
“Hurry up, Dave!”
He started at the shout of his name, riding over the blaring bass of the rap music that was blasting from the speakers of the car. He hadn’t even realized he had paused outside his car door, his gaze trained at the vehicle that was parked, dark and looking very permanent, in front of 5D. He stared between the door and the car and felt something stirring in him, an unpleasant feeling coursing through his veins, giving him the most incredible urge to punch a hole in the windshield of Mercedes.
He probably could have if he tried.
“Fucking fairies,” he heard from the driver’s side of the car, sound quiet but more audible as the music was turned down and Azimio leaned out the opening window, staring at Kurt Hummel’s door with disgust. “We could . . . break up the party. Show them we ain’t tolerating any of their shit.”
He could feel his lips twisting into a hateful expression and his hand twitched in his pocket the longer he stared at the damn car. He considered Azimio’s words but brushed them aside, knowing he would be too scared shitless of that Hummel kid to do anything about it.
He shook his head, turning finally to pull open the door and slip inside, fiddling with his phone as he slammed the door shut. “Fucking hell, I don’t want to see any of that shit,” he muttered, thumbing over the screen. He could still see that damn car and it bothered him that it elicited such a reaction in him. “No, I’ve got a better idea.”
***
Blaine wasn’t sure if either of them had fallen asleep, the comfortable silence and the dual movements of their chests, slow and lazy and full stretching through the minutes. His hand had stilled in Kurt’s hair and he had felt the boy’s eyelashes fluttering against his shoulder until they came to rest, his eyes closed.
He could feel himself on the verge of sleep, the soft, pleasant fogginess of it seeping under his skin and he could have imagined it, but he was positive he didn’t.
“Blaine?”
He didn’t open his eyes, could feel them weighted down by a lingering sleep.
“Blaine? Are you awake?” Kurt murmured against his skin, so quiet that Blaine could barely hear him over the periodic clattering of the radiator under the window. Like he was trying not to wake Blaine. Like he wanted the answer to be a negative, stretching out on the silence around them.
Kurt shifted slightly against him, his body stretching slowly and lazily, his face angled up until it was close to Blaine’s ear. Blaine could feel Kurt’s eyes, the hard gaze through the darkness in an attempt to see. That gaze fell when Kurt seemed to determine that Blaine was in fact asleep and he leaned his head down until it was nestled in the space linking Blaine’s neck and shoulders, his lips brushing against the bare, warm skin there.
There was silence again, long and slow and full and Blaine almost thought Kurt had fallen asleep, thought he had maybe fallen asleep himself, had imagined it, when he felt Kurt draw a shuddering breath and hold it, long until it seemed like he had no choice but to let it go and when he did it came in a whisper of words stumbling over one another, smearing together into a quick, indiscernible IthinkI’minlovewithyou.
Blaine was fairly certain he’d stopped breathing, the steadiness of his breaths hitching slightly at the skip in his pulse and Kurt seemed to freeze at the movement, his body stiffening as he waited. When Blaine didn’t move, his breathing returning and his pulse beating again as normal despite the rush of adrenaline throughout his whole body, Kurt relaxed, letting out a quiet laugh, like he was relieved the ceiling hadn’t collapsed in on him.
“I think I’m in love with you,” he repeated, a little surer of himself, the words louder and murmured into the skin stretched over Blaine’s collar bone, emblazoned in his skin in case he woke up and thought that he’d dreamt them.
Almost as soon as he’d said them, Blaine could feel Kurt’s mouth curving into a grin, his face turning to nuzzle further into Blaine’s neck, his eyelashes tickling his skin as he closed his eyes, his body pressing further into Blaine’s side as he chuckled. “How about that.”