fic: True Romance
This is the fic I wrote for the kurt_blaine Valentine's fic exchange.
Thank you to my lovely and patient betas: shia_labeouf, elegantcrimes and very late last night fallintosilence ♥
Title: True Romance
Recipient: guest_age
Author/Artist:
Rating: NC-17 (barely)
Word Count: 6,075
Summary: he’s 17 and has his first boyfriend and just wants some romance and a hand job and maybe a cute teddy bear to put on his bed
It all starts with a reminder from the Dean of Students at morning assembly that the annual Valentine’s Day mixer at St. Margaret’s is taking place February 12, so everyone better start clearing their demerits now if they wish to attend. There will also be a bus trip to the mall the weekend before, for students who wish to do any Valentine’s shopping.
That’s followed by the student body president announcing that everyone has until February 9 to turn in their florist orders for rose delivery to other schools - “or, I guess, to Dalton, if uh...you wanted to...do that.” Andrew, who’s also a Warbler, throws a look and an affirming head nod Kurt and Blaine’s way with his afterthought, just short of the raised fist of solidarity. Kurt feels his cheeks flame and Blaine rolls his eyes at Andrew, but no one snickers or looks at them with any malice. They’re too busy nudging each other and grumbling about their many demerits.
Kurt and Blaine don’t have a single demerit between them, but they still aren’t going to the dance. Kurt is actually a little surprised that such a fuss is made out of Valentine’s Day at Dalton since it is, after all, an all boys’ school, and as far as he knows he and Blaine are the only intra-school romance going. Of course a lot of the guys do have girlfriends at the other boarding schools in the area, so he supposes it makes sense they would want to take advantage of Valentine’s Day gifting to get in their good graces. He sneers to himself at this thought - it’s hard for him to think of the clumsy, white-sock-wearing hoards he has to share his shower with here in romantic situations - his present companion (ok and a few of the more polished Warblers) notwithstanding. It kind of grosses him out the longer he thinks about it, so he threads his hand through his boyfriend’s arm and thinks about him instead.
Kurt’s daydreams tend to turn treacly even at his most mundane moments with Blaine, but now with the pink-hued flourish of Valentine’s Day in the air and it suddenly dawning on him that for the first time in his life he has an actual person he could do...Valentines-y things for? and with? and to? His head lolls to the side in his reverie and softly connects to Blaine’s shoulder, their arms still entwined against the gleaming wood in the assembly hall. It’s not long before Kurt’s mind is off on a puffy heart-shaped cloud while shirtless gay cherubs play harps and rose petals float down on his and Blaine’s naked bodies...ok, too far for morning assembly, he realizes, squeezing hold of Blaine’s arm as he sits up straight. Blaine stiffens his spine slightly but doesn’t shy away, just looks down to meet Kurt’s dreamy-expectant gaze with a slightly bored eye roll and quirky little half-smile. Kurt lovingly pats his hand and smiles back.
---
Dr. Parker is one of those teachers that has seen Dead Poet’s Society enough times to allow a little insubordination and irreverence in class. Every teacher at Dalton secretly harbors the fear that it will be one of their students that snaps from the pressure, but Dr. Parker is more lenient than most. Blaine raises his hand when the chatter in European history has turned into a solid ten minute meander about clearing demerits so they can get on the list for the dance, what girls they are going to see at the dance, what kind of gifts they should bring them, what they should wear and what the curfew will be.
“Yes, Mr. Anderson?”
“Dr. Parker, I for one think it’s a travesty that we, as a supposedly enlightened group of men, still participate in this farce of the misogynist, heterocentrist hegemony. Why do we devote school time and resources to a pseudo-holiday that reinforces the notion that young women can be coerced into having sex by plying them with candy and flowers? It’s just a giant commercial for the rape culture...and don’t even get me started on the environmental impact and working conditions of those rose farms...” Blaine shakes his head earnestly, trailing off amidst a chorus of sighs and groans and dude, what?’s.
Kurt just stares at him with an arched, dubious eyebrow and asks, simply, deadpan, “Really?” Because...no, really?
Dr. Parker gives Blaine an amiable if bemused look (Kurt knows it well) and signals the end of the off-topic chatter by heading toward the lectern. “Thank you Mr. Anderson for that rousing tirade. Perhaps you’d like to submit it as an editorial for the Dalton Crimson? Now then, let us turn from St. Valentine to St. Bartholomew and a very bloody week or three in Paris...”
Kurt keeps staring at his boyfriend, his face a mixed bouquet of we are going to have to talk about this and WTF and oh, Blaine. Blaine just shrugs at him, eyebrows furrowing as he stubbornly pretends to be engrossed in the massacre.
---
“No, really though? I mean...that was...really?” Kurt pulls back from Blaine, words muffled with kissing and a little laughing, his lips leaving Blaine’s damp and pouting.
“I...why’d you stop? That did not merit stopping, god. It’s just a dumb holiday, ok? Kiss me...” Blaine’s hands scrabble across the back of Kurt’s jacket, trying to tip him forward in his lap and back within reach of his lips. Kurt resists and leans away in the leverage of Blaine’s arms, backing off for the moment.
“But...really? The hegemony? Blaine, I thought you were doing a performance piece. What about that song you sang practically just for me the first day I met you. It is February, you know.”
“That was a performance piece. We also have not gotten drunk on the beach or gone all the way...yet,” Blaine waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Kurt gasps, mock offended, shoving him gently away with a hand on his chest. Blaine is back to pouting but Kurt isn’t done picking at this yet.
“Christmas is dumb and commercial but I didn’t hear you protesting Santa’s treatment of the elves when we went to the mall to buy gifts, or when you sang your little date rape drug duet at King’s Island.” Blaine twists one corner of his mouth up and snorts with laughter at that, his shoulders shaking too quickly and conking his head dully on the huge old tree they are curled up at the roots of, one of their favorite secret spots at Dalton. Kurt frowns at Blaine’s increased amount of pouting and reaches behind him to rub though his thick curls soothingly. Blaine closes his eyes and moans almost imperceptibly at his touch.
“Christmas is definitely dumb and commercial and not without its misogyny, that’s absolutely true. I just find this one especially...egregious. I don’t know, I guess...it’s just the blatant privilege of it? I know I know I’m a white male at a private boarding school, that’s really rich. But it’s true, we have to see straight people celebrating that they can have straight sex and get straight married every freaking straight day. Yay.” Blaine speaks softly and waves his fingers like a party favor for emphasis. Kurt can see it in his face as he slips perilously close to maudlin - before he was just cranky and preachy.
Kurt sighs and shifts his weight forward again in Blaine’s lap, takes his face in his hands, kissing him carefully on his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, full on his lips, trying to take the pout away. “I love that you think about these things, Blaine. I love that you are passionate and you care enough to get angry about things you read in college queer studies texts. I do. But also, like, who says? We can have it too, if we want. We can hold hands in school. Do you even realize how huge that is to me? Who’s to say we can’t give each other flowers? Or even...ugh, I don’t know why we’d want to but we could go to the stupid dance if we wanted. No one would actually stop us.”
“But no one would actually encourage us, either,” Blaine grumbles, lips still pressed close to Kurt’s cheek where just the faintest hint of stubble is starting to appear as the sun sets behind them. Kurt knows intellectually that he’s got a point, but at the same time...he can’t help that he was sort of raised brainwashed by romantic comedies and Friends reruns, by the idea that there’s something special and romantic about Valentine’s, the tradition and ritual of it. Truth be told, he’s 17 and has his first boyfriend and just wants some romance and a hand job and maybe a cute teddy bear to put on his bed atop his Marc Jacobs duvet cover. He inhales resolutely, the snap of cold air in his lungs making him want to burrow into Blaine.
“Besides,” Blaine whispers, wrapping his arms further around Kurt as he sinks against his chest, “if I want to give you flowers, I will do that any day, any time I want.” Kurt looks up from his chest just a moment, struck by Blaine’s sweetness and future tense and determination, then relaxes again into his body. Blaine’s lips find the back of his neck, press along his skin, down his jaw. Kurt nudges Blaine’s chin down, pulls his bottom lip between his own until Blaine folds himself against him, warm and whispering words and kisses until the bells on the other side of campus chime and they are definitely late for dinner. Kurt’s hands are under Blaine’s coat and his thumbs fit so perfectly into the notches of Blaine’s hipbones. If it’s between this and a box of cheap chocolates or a pesticide-laced rose, Kurt will obviously take this.
---
They both sign up for the trip to the mall anyway, because it’s nice to get off campus, out of uniform, and be regular teenagers for a few hours. It’s not bad as far as malls in Ohio go. It may not be 5th Avenue but it’s got a Saks and a Coach store, and the fancy tea place Blaine loves. Sometimes they’re with other Warblers and sometimes they all wander off separately - Kurt may or may not buy him several small gifts but they are totally not Valentines and it’s just a coincidence that it’s February, thank you - along the way when Blaine isn’t paying attention.
Blaine is never sure how far he should take the PDA thing when he’s out with Kurt somewhere like this, but Kurt, for all he’s been through, just truly doesn’t give a damn. He holds Blaine’s hand proudly, stops walking right in the middle of the mall to kiss him, puts his arms around him as they look at vests and ties. Inevitably, they arrive at the tea store and its rows and rows of Earl Grey and Lapsang souchong. Even Kurt gets bored in there after about 15 minutes of Blaine opening tiny jars, inhaling, and declaring each one more sublime and fragrant than the last. Kurt squeezes his arm and tells him he’s going to take one more look at a pair of shoes he’s already tried on three times. Blaine is clearly distracted but gives him a quick peck and mumbles something like “ok hurry back ooh, silver needle jasmine!”
---
Kurt is sauntering back toward the tea place, swinging a shopping bag containing the new pair of Cole Haans and sipping a green smoothie when he notices Blaine is already outside of the tea store, talking in fairly close proximity to an older guy Kurt recognizes from school but doesn’t know very well. He’s a senior and a prefect, but not a Warbler, and Kurt has never seen Blaine hang out with him before, so it’s a bit strange to Kurt that they seem so chummy.
Kurt is not a jealous boyfriend, and Blaine has certainly never given him reason to be one, but he can’t help being curious. Blaine and Justin bump fists casually and part ways as Kurt approaches, and Blaine looks ever so slightly flustered as he grabs Kurt’s hand and kisses him hello again, asks him about his purchases. Kurt raises one eyebrow just right, and it’s all it takes. Blaine rolls his eyes fondly and knowingly, steals Kurt’s green smoothie and sips as he talks.
“Justin...we went to soccer camp together one year. He wanted to know if I’m going out for the team. But I can’t this year because of Regionals...and whatever might come after Regionals...so.”
“I didn’t say a word!” Kurt insists, smirking and stealing back his smoothie.
---
It’s dark by the time they leave the mall, especially in the back seat of the charter bus. They maybe make out the whole way back to campus. It’s fairly painful to try to stand and walk by the time they’re being dropped off in the manicured circular hedge driveway. Blaine attempts to flatten his pants, tuck errant curls behind his ears and take some kind of control of the situation now that they’re back on Dalton grounds.
“So...dinner?” He’s smooth and chipper and Kurt just stares at his mouth in the lamplight.
“After.” Kurt pulls him along toward the doorway to his wing of the dorm. They stumble and slip along the marble floor and Kurt fights with his room key a little, swearing and dropping his shoe bag before Blaine calmly presses up against the small of his back and takes the key from his hand.
“These doorknobs are original, dear. Show some love.” Blaine grins and gives him that look he has and with a twist of his wrist the door creaks open. Kurt shoves him inside, kicking his shopping along after him and bumping the door shut with his hip.
---
“Hmmm, do you like that? Does it feel good? Tell me, Blaine...”
“Yeah, yeah just like that...oh god Kurt, feels so good, I want...ahhh feels so good.”
“What do you want, just tell me...anything you want, we can, I want you so bad...”
“I want...I want you too, don’t stop just...I want everything, you know I do...fuck, Kurt don’t stop.”
“I won’t, baby, I won’t stop...I want everything, whenever you want, ok? Just...”
“Right there Kurt, yeah, just like that, god your hand, I want...more soon, so soon...fuck I’m gonna come...oh fuck...”
“Mmmmmmm, good, Blaine...so good. Love it when you come...”
Blaine catches his breath and helps pull Kurt’s sticky hand out of his clothes, careful to wipe it first on his own pants so he doesn’t mess up Kurt’s. It’s thoughtful and intimate, makes Kurt antsy for the more and hopeful for the soon as Blaine slides his hand down the front of Kurt’s trousers, grinning against his lips, “My turn...”
---
Dinner is over and the dining hall long closed by the time they realize they really need food. There’s a Chinese place in town that makes dozens of deliveries to Dalton on weekends, luckily. Blaine loses rock paper scissors and has to go down to the lobby to pick it up. He stops by his room to clean up a bit and change into soft pajama pants and a cozy hoodie, and shows back up at Kurt’s door rumpled and adorable and bearing a huge bag of General Tso’s chicken and hot and sour soup. Kurt is so ridiculously in love.
“Oh! Wait I have the perfect thing for this.” Kurt springs off the bed, goes directly to his closet and pulls out a beautifully wrapped gift, tied with simple silk cords. “I kinda got you a present...”
Blaine looks up, hesitant but curiosity piqued, from where he’s spreading out their food and chopsticks on Kurt’s desk. “Present? Babe, you didn’t have to...”
Kurt thrusts the present into Blaine’s hands and pounces on him and the General Tso’s chicken all at once. “I know I know but I saw it and it was just so perfect for you and you’re my boyfriend and I should be able to buy you a present every now and then just because I want to and it’s just a coincidence that it’s February I swear.”
“Wow, I was going to say something terrible like you’re the only present I need, so thanks for saving me from myself.” Blaine smiles, blushing a little and starting to untie the strings. “But I still strongly suspect this is some kind of Valentine’s Day loophole. I’m onto you. But...this is still sweet, oh wow, Kurt.” Blaine pulls out the heavy piece of pottery, a lovely, simply glazed black teapot, lifts the little lid and places it back with a satisfying sound. “It’s perfect. I don’t have one for my dorm room, just the kettle, so thank you. Let’s eat some food and I’ll go get the Darjeeling.” He sets the pot down carefully, leaning down to kiss Kurt’s neck while he happily spoons soup into a little mug.
Kurt sets down his food and looks at Blaine seriously. “You’re welcome. And please don’t misunderstand, just because I give you a gift doesn’t mean I expect a whole...thing. I know you have your own peculiar feelings about this but I like giving presents and I want to do nice things for my boyfriend. So just...trust that I’m not oppressing anyone or destroying the rain forest, I just see something nice for you and I want to get it. OK?”
Blaine smiles, a little sadly, out of one side of his mouth, looking down at the chicken he’s picking through with his chopsticks. “Now I feel like a jerk...I know you enjoy it, and I’m sorry I came across like that. It’s my issue and it’s family baggage too and we don’t need to get into it right now...but I appreciate your gift very much and I can’t wait to use it. Even if it’s totally a Valentine’s thing...”
“It’s February 5th. Totally is not.”
“OK, well no more February gifts.”
“Maybe just one...or two.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s why you love m--...” Kurt snaps his mouth shut around his spoon to try to stop the last syllable but it’s too late. He tries to look away but Blaine is too quick to catch his eye. Blaine smirks, blushes, pops a piece of chicken into his mouth. “You’re not wrong.”
---
Their school week is infuriatingly busy, probably by design, Kurt thinks grumpily as he drags a line across a graph for a chemistry project online. He knows exactly what he’d do if he had 30 free minutes with Blaine right now and he can see why the school makes sure a bunch of hormonal teenage boys doesn’t have that kind of time. He sees him briefly in the mornings at assembly - the damned roses are brought up every day, it seems - in class and at Warbler’s practice, and then at dinner. They eat, rush upstairs for a few moments together before the whole dorm packs in for study hours, and if they are lucky, have a few minutes of peace in the late evening to just lie down on Kurt’s bed and talk quietly before room check.
Kurt touches the back of Blaine’s neck, runs his fingers lightly up and down his arm as he talks about his day, about classes or music or whatever. Kurt listens, looks, at Blaine and at his own fingers on his skin and he can’t help himself, he just wants and it’s making him feel crazy. He wants more and he wants to know Blaine and he really wants to fuck or make love or something he’s not entirely sure he just knows they haven’t yet, god, and he wants to tell Blaine that it’s ok what they accidentally said the other night, that he would say it again. He sure as hell wants to hear it again. Blaine kisses him goodnight and it’s sweet and soft and then he’s alone again, curled up in his bed, half aroused, half asleep, not really committed to either.
---
Warblers practice is cancelled on Thursday. Kurt is exhausted and grateful for the reprieve as he drags his books back to his room. Blaine’s last class is a little longer than his, so he has some time to just relax. He changes out of his uniform, hanging his blazer carefully and putting on lounging pants and a warm, fuzzy sweater. He lies down, skimming half-heartedly on his laptop, then closes it and rests his eyes. He can’t quite fall asleep so he gets up to see if Blaine’s back yet, taking a small wrapped packet from his gift stash.
As he rounds the corner to Blaine’s room, he sees Justin sliding a flat envelope under Blaine’s door. He stares a minute at Justin’s profile as he stands, his thick legs and stupid muscled neck, trying to decide how annoyed he is by this. There’s nothing he wants to say, nothing he can say, really - Justin’s a prefect and outranks him in pretty much every way. Kurt still gives him the iciest, bitchiest glare he has in his arsenal as he turns on his heel and strides back to his own room, the gift for Blaine clutched in his fist.
---
Kurt makes it through dinner without blurting out something impulsive and brash, which might be a record length of time for him in a moderately agitated state. He tries to convince himself he has no reason to be suspicious of Blaine or not trust him, but he hates the nagging feeling that Blaine is keeping something from him.
“Want to have some tea in my room? My roommate’s at an away game,” Blaine offers as they finish dinner.
Kurt is a little annoyed but not to the point where he’s going to say no to alone time. “Sure...let me go to my room and get something. See you up there?” He goes to his room and grabs the packet of rose rooibos tea he was bringing earlier. When he gets back to Blaine’s room, the door is not closed, just pushed to. Kurt nudges it with his shoulder and sees Blaine reading texts on his phone. He quickly (yes, guiltily, Kurt thinks) tosses his phone into his open book bag on the floor. Kurt sighs, tosses him the tea, and raises that eyebrow again.
“You have, like, no poker face, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Blaine opens the zip-lock pouch of tea and take a deep inhale of the aroma. “And no more presents, babe, please?”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about but it’s something...you’re up to. I don’t know. But you are. And maybe I’ll just keep the rest of your tea surprises, hmmm?”
Blaine gasps in mock offense, clasps his hand over his heart. “You wouldn’t.”
“Maybe I would. You just don’t know, do you? Make me some tea, then, while I figure out what to do with you,” Kurt challenges, sitting on Blaine’s bed primly and looking up at him.
Blaine crosses over to him, standing in front of him and just slightly, barely pushing his knees apart to fit himself between them, leans in and drapes his hands over Kurt’s shoulders, dragging his fingertips up and down softly. “Hey. I’m not...there’s nothing for you to worry about, ok? I can promise you that.”
“Mmmm, that feels nice...I saw Justin here today.”
“Yeah? That’s ok...he’s a prefect.” Blaine rubs his hand soothingly over Kurt’s back, but it’s making him even more edgy, the way he’s holding him just close enough to his hip making him feel that little bit of crazy coming on again.
“I know that...what was he dropping off for you?” Kurt murmurs, trying not to push too hard. Just a little.
Blaine laughs, the tiniest puff of air, and pulls Kurt closer. “French notes.” He feels Kurt go slack and pull away from him, and has to pull him right back, taking his face in his hands, kissing him for good measure, full and firm and a tiny bit heated. “Don’t worry about it, ok? It’s nothing. What kind of tea do you want?”
Kurt just shrugs. He doesn’t feel like he trusts everything right now, and he definitely doesn’t care about the tea. Even this tiny bit of doubt is throwing him off and he’d really much rather be back where his biggest problem in their relationship was waiting for Blaine to be ready to sleep with him.
Blaine sighs heavily and leans against Kurt’s shoulder, rolling his forehead against him like his head hurts. “Look. Here are some things I can tell you about myself. I am totally arrogant sometimes and I get moody and weird and I go on rants about corporate colonialism and high fructose corn syrup. And I’m probably going to turn into the clingiest, most needy boyfriend on earth after we have sex and I’ll smother you and you’ll wish you could pawn me off on another guy a few days a week. But I am, like, completely in love with you. And I really wasn’t going to tell you that tonight, but here we are. So please, please kiss me and have some tea with me and believe me when I say there’s nothing going on that you need to be worried about. Ok?” He looks wrecked and so desperate it’s a little pathetic, actually, and Kurt just can’t take it.
Kurt rolls his eyes and grabs him by the shoulders. “Oh my god, Blaine, fine. Lavender Earl Grey, a little bit of honey. Come here.” Blaine is off balance as Kurt pulls him down to kiss him and it’s perfect how he lands practically on top of him. Kurt’s earlier agitation and Blaine’s stupidly sweet speech have somehow combined to make Kurt even more eager than usual - and he’s always eager.
“Do you...what do you think?” Blaine asks, letting his eyes fall shut as Kurt squirms and shimmies into place on top of him, wedging his thighs apart so he can fit there.
“About what,” Kurt mumbles against his neck, mouthing a warm, wet path around his collar, fingering open the buttons at the top to get at more of him.
“About...us, I guess? Like, what I said?” Blaine is trying way too hard to get Kurt to focus on that when he should be focusing on this, Kurt thinks, sliding his hand up between Blaine’s legs and feeling him, hard and anxious and god he wants this bad.
“I think this would be better if you took your pants off. And I...am totally in love with you too, so it’s ok for me to say that.” Kurt kisses him before he can start thinking again, gives him his tongue to suck on while he reaches down to unbutton Blaine’s pants because he’s definitely getting his boyfriend naked, and right now.
Kurt has thought, quite a bit actually, about what this would be like and how he’d be kind of lost and overwhelmed and uncertain when this finally happened, but somehow, right now, sliding Blaine’s pants and boxer briefs down his legs and settling onto his knees to face Blaine’s cock for the first time, he is not even the least bit hesitant to bring it to his lips, taste it, smile up at Blaine and savor the look on his face and he sinks his mouth down over him.
It’s really everything Kurt had hoped it would be, the feel of Blaine’s dick in his mouth. It’s stiff and thick and hard to fit his mouth around, but petal soft and so sensitive he barely has to do anything but drag his tongue along the skin and Blaine is crying out and swearing at him. “Fuck, fuck fuck Kurt, your mouth oh my god...there are people in the hallway Kurt, anyone could come knock on my door right now...”
“Is that turning you on or off,” Kurt stops, stares at him for a panicked moment, his mouth wet and still right there on his head, waiting.
“I don’t know, I don’t...fuck, on, I guess? God just keep doing that...what you were doing,” and Kurt has his mouth back on him in the length of a breath and Blaine is writhing underneath him, grabbing him by his hair, his shoulders, anything he can reach and touch and everything he does just encourages Kurt to try more, try deeper, try his hand at the same time. He gets him in as deep as he can, can just barely feel the head of Blaine’s cock against the ridge in the back of his throat and his lips squeeze around the rest and Blaine starts to lose it.
“Wanted this for so long, oh my god Kurt. Gonna do so many things to you. Want you to fuck me. Want to fuck you, god, you don’t even...”
“Oh my god do you think we could?” Kurt stops him cold, pulls his mouth off just a fraction and Blaine’s heart almost stops. He weakly pushes up to try to look at Kurt, who’s looking up at Blaine through shaky breaths and eyelashes, but Blaine can barely even focus.
“You mean...right now???” His eyes are still wild but he looks positively aghast, like Kurt has just suggested that they take a naked jog around campus in the snow.
“Yes, like, right now. Most of your hall is gone anyway and your door is locked. We’re alone. We’re in love. I feel like you’re ready and I know I’m ready and oh my god Blaine, please, I really really want you to fuck me.”
“Ohhhh god Kurt you don’t even...” Blaine grabs him and pulls him on top of him again, kissing his mouth, his face, pushing his hips up into him just to see if he’s real. Kurt bears back down as hard as he can and whines against Blaine’s mouth, biting down his chin and neck and trying to get a grip on anything that makes sense because his pants are still on and Blaine is trying to say words again. “We were going to wait until Saturday, and it was going to be amazing, and fuck just Saturday just two days and I don’t even care, I want to be inside you so bad,” he’s flat out babbling and Kurt is just about to shove two fingers in his mouth so he can see what he looks like sucking on them when he pieces together about half of Blaine’s words and...what?
“What? What’s Saturday? What are you talking about...” Kurt slows everything down but doesn’t stop completely, grinding his hips against Blaine slowly, tauntingly, testing.
“The piano...fuck I suck I can’t believe I’m fucking this up so bad...the piano conservatory...on the third floor...this whole plan and you were going to come up there and I have all these candles and blankets and I can play the piano, did you know that?” Blaine’s just laying there naked and rambling about pianos and a little bit of pre-come is pulsing onto Kurt’s hand and he doesn’t know what the hell is happening.
“Wait...that whole wing is locked on weekends...” Kurt sits back on his heels and his hands are still on him but he’s further away and Blaine definitely doesn’t want that.
“But Justin...has keys. I told you we were friends at soccer camp.” He pushes up a little into Kurt’s hand, trying to find more touch, more friction.
“Oh. Oh. Oh I’m an asshole.” Kurt’s eyes go soft and sweet and his mouth hangs open, round and perfect and Blaine has never seen him look so flushed, even when he’s just come.
“Nah. You’re not. I liked you being a little jealous, I’ll admit,” Blaine sort of grins, rubbing one hand possessively up Kurt’s thigh and around to his ass.
“I wasn’t jealous. I was...concerned. And that’s, um, really sweet. I can’t believe you planned all that for me.”
“I wanted to do something for you...not because it was Valentine’s Day or whatever, just because...I knew we were ready and I thought I could make it all, well not roses, but like, lavender tea and piano music or something.” Blaine laughs and pulls Kurt down close, slides his hand absentmindedly up under his shirt. “You don’t want to...wait until then, do you?”
“Oh god no. I don’t want to wait for anything with you anymore. Do you want to wait?” Kurt pulls himself up and swings his leg over, straddling Blaine and pressing his hands across his abdomen, leans down to kiss his chest before Blaine can even answer.
Blaine shivers and reaches for him, one arm around him and hand feeling its way down his spine, the other lifting Kurt’s chin, touching lips to lips and he can barely speak. “I’m so ready, babe. Whatever you want...” His hands drag down Kurt’s shoulders, help pull his shirt the rest of the way off, and grasp at his wrists as they slip away for a moment.
Kurt’s standing and Blaine’s watching, their eyes never breaking contact as Kurt unzips his pants, steps out of them and lays them aside. He pauses a moment, looking up and down at how Blaine is totally naked and sprawled and doesn’t even seem to care, and knows he needs to get past this one little hurdle of uncertainty and everything will just flow. He smiles, nervous but ready and so, so happy, takes a deep breath, and pushes his boxer briefs down too.
“Oh my god...you need to come back here right now...” Blaine looks completely gone, his eyes dazed and he just opens his arms for Kurt to crawl into. Kurt slides along his body, feeling every inch of them both as they brush against each other, skin and hands and Blaine’s lips making good on their promises from earlier. Then it’s his cock in Blaine’s hands and mouth and he’s rocking and he’s losing it.
He makes himself stop, makes Blaine pull off, looking down at his dick against Blaine’s cheek and he’s asking, “Do you want me to make you come?” And Kurt does, he so does, he’s never wanted anything so much in his life but he wants something else even more. He pulls his legs up, shifting legs and rearranging until Blaine can get his body right where Kurt wants it, asks, quietly, as Blaine’s fingers find their spot, “Do you have...”
Blaine touches him there once and growls, closes his mouth over Kurt’s and it all shifts. “I have everything.”
---
At 7:00 sharp on Saturday night, Kurt makes his way up the windy staircase to the wing of music chambers and waits at the locked door of the piano conservatory for Blaine to open it. Kurt smirks when he sees his face, produces from behind his back a single long-stemmed red rose.
“I can’t believe you...” Blaine laughs, ridiculous, and rolls his eyes.
“I can’t believe you took my virginity in your dorm during study hours.” Kurt smiles, remembering everything about it, stupid and sweet and wonderful and he can’t wait to do it again.
“Touché.” Blaine kisses him, longing and hard and messy, pulls him into the room...as promised, lit by nothing more than a scattering of candles.
Kurt presses his forehead down to Blaine’s, gently strokes his cheek. “Let’s see if we can make your first time a little more romantic.”
---
Highest rating preferred: NC-17
Prompt(s) used: an interpretive mix of
1) Kurt's never had a Valentine before, or at least not one that "counts." Now that he has Blaine, he goes overboard with the holiday spirit--flowers, candy, gifts. Blaine's celebrations, on the other hand, are far more simple, but personalized and special for Kurt.
&
3) Kurt decides that Valentine's Day is the perfect day to lose his virginity, and he and Blaine plan the whole thing out in an overly cliched, romantic fashion. Life, parents, step-brothers, Warblers, and Rachel Berry have a way of messing things up, however, and it ends up going down not-exactly according to plan. Neither Kurt or Blaine mind, in the end, because the candles and mood music weren't really what counted.
Thank you to my lovely and patient betas: shia_labeouf, elegantcrimes and very late last night fallintosilence ♥
Title: True Romance
Recipient: guest_age
Author/Artist:
Rating: NC-17 (barely)
Word Count: 6,075
Summary: he’s 17 and has his first boyfriend and just wants some romance and a hand job and maybe a cute teddy bear to put on his bed
It all starts with a reminder from the Dean of Students at morning assembly that the annual Valentine’s Day mixer at St. Margaret’s is taking place February 12, so everyone better start clearing their demerits now if they wish to attend. There will also be a bus trip to the mall the weekend before, for students who wish to do any Valentine’s shopping.
That’s followed by the student body president announcing that everyone has until February 9 to turn in their florist orders for rose delivery to other schools - “or, I guess, to Dalton, if uh...you wanted to...do that.” Andrew, who’s also a Warbler, throws a look and an affirming head nod Kurt and Blaine’s way with his afterthought, just short of the raised fist of solidarity. Kurt feels his cheeks flame and Blaine rolls his eyes at Andrew, but no one snickers or looks at them with any malice. They’re too busy nudging each other and grumbling about their many demerits.
Kurt and Blaine don’t have a single demerit between them, but they still aren’t going to the dance. Kurt is actually a little surprised that such a fuss is made out of Valentine’s Day at Dalton since it is, after all, an all boys’ school, and as far as he knows he and Blaine are the only intra-school romance going. Of course a lot of the guys do have girlfriends at the other boarding schools in the area, so he supposes it makes sense they would want to take advantage of Valentine’s Day gifting to get in their good graces. He sneers to himself at this thought - it’s hard for him to think of the clumsy, white-sock-wearing hoards he has to share his shower with here in romantic situations - his present companion (ok and a few of the more polished Warblers) notwithstanding. It kind of grosses him out the longer he thinks about it, so he threads his hand through his boyfriend’s arm and thinks about him instead.
Kurt’s daydreams tend to turn treacly even at his most mundane moments with Blaine, but now with the pink-hued flourish of Valentine’s Day in the air and it suddenly dawning on him that for the first time in his life he has an actual person he could do...Valentines-y things for? and with? and to? His head lolls to the side in his reverie and softly connects to Blaine’s shoulder, their arms still entwined against the gleaming wood in the assembly hall. It’s not long before Kurt’s mind is off on a puffy heart-shaped cloud while shirtless gay cherubs play harps and rose petals float down on his and Blaine’s naked bodies...ok, too far for morning assembly, he realizes, squeezing hold of Blaine’s arm as he sits up straight. Blaine stiffens his spine slightly but doesn’t shy away, just looks down to meet Kurt’s dreamy-expectant gaze with a slightly bored eye roll and quirky little half-smile. Kurt lovingly pats his hand and smiles back.
---
Dr. Parker is one of those teachers that has seen Dead Poet’s Society enough times to allow a little insubordination and irreverence in class. Every teacher at Dalton secretly harbors the fear that it will be one of their students that snaps from the pressure, but Dr. Parker is more lenient than most. Blaine raises his hand when the chatter in European history has turned into a solid ten minute meander about clearing demerits so they can get on the list for the dance, what girls they are going to see at the dance, what kind of gifts they should bring them, what they should wear and what the curfew will be.
“Yes, Mr. Anderson?”
“Dr. Parker, I for one think it’s a travesty that we, as a supposedly enlightened group of men, still participate in this farce of the misogynist, heterocentrist hegemony. Why do we devote school time and resources to a pseudo-holiday that reinforces the notion that young women can be coerced into having sex by plying them with candy and flowers? It’s just a giant commercial for the rape culture...and don’t even get me started on the environmental impact and working conditions of those rose farms...” Blaine shakes his head earnestly, trailing off amidst a chorus of sighs and groans and dude, what?’s.
Kurt just stares at him with an arched, dubious eyebrow and asks, simply, deadpan, “Really?” Because...no, really?
Dr. Parker gives Blaine an amiable if bemused look (Kurt knows it well) and signals the end of the off-topic chatter by heading toward the lectern. “Thank you Mr. Anderson for that rousing tirade. Perhaps you’d like to submit it as an editorial for the Dalton Crimson? Now then, let us turn from St. Valentine to St. Bartholomew and a very bloody week or three in Paris...”
Kurt keeps staring at his boyfriend, his face a mixed bouquet of we are going to have to talk about this and WTF and oh, Blaine. Blaine just shrugs at him, eyebrows furrowing as he stubbornly pretends to be engrossed in the massacre.
---
“No, really though? I mean...that was...really?” Kurt pulls back from Blaine, words muffled with kissing and a little laughing, his lips leaving Blaine’s damp and pouting.
“I...why’d you stop? That did not merit stopping, god. It’s just a dumb holiday, ok? Kiss me...” Blaine’s hands scrabble across the back of Kurt’s jacket, trying to tip him forward in his lap and back within reach of his lips. Kurt resists and leans away in the leverage of Blaine’s arms, backing off for the moment.
“But...really? The hegemony? Blaine, I thought you were doing a performance piece. What about that song you sang practically just for me the first day I met you. It is February, you know.”
“That was a performance piece. We also have not gotten drunk on the beach or gone all the way...yet,” Blaine waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Kurt gasps, mock offended, shoving him gently away with a hand on his chest. Blaine is back to pouting but Kurt isn’t done picking at this yet.
“Christmas is dumb and commercial but I didn’t hear you protesting Santa’s treatment of the elves when we went to the mall to buy gifts, or when you sang your little date rape drug duet at King’s Island.” Blaine twists one corner of his mouth up and snorts with laughter at that, his shoulders shaking too quickly and conking his head dully on the huge old tree they are curled up at the roots of, one of their favorite secret spots at Dalton. Kurt frowns at Blaine’s increased amount of pouting and reaches behind him to rub though his thick curls soothingly. Blaine closes his eyes and moans almost imperceptibly at his touch.
“Christmas is definitely dumb and commercial and not without its misogyny, that’s absolutely true. I just find this one especially...egregious. I don’t know, I guess...it’s just the blatant privilege of it? I know I know I’m a white male at a private boarding school, that’s really rich. But it’s true, we have to see straight people celebrating that they can have straight sex and get straight married every freaking straight day. Yay.” Blaine speaks softly and waves his fingers like a party favor for emphasis. Kurt can see it in his face as he slips perilously close to maudlin - before he was just cranky and preachy.
Kurt sighs and shifts his weight forward again in Blaine’s lap, takes his face in his hands, kissing him carefully on his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, full on his lips, trying to take the pout away. “I love that you think about these things, Blaine. I love that you are passionate and you care enough to get angry about things you read in college queer studies texts. I do. But also, like, who says? We can have it too, if we want. We can hold hands in school. Do you even realize how huge that is to me? Who’s to say we can’t give each other flowers? Or even...ugh, I don’t know why we’d want to but we could go to the stupid dance if we wanted. No one would actually stop us.”
“But no one would actually encourage us, either,” Blaine grumbles, lips still pressed close to Kurt’s cheek where just the faintest hint of stubble is starting to appear as the sun sets behind them. Kurt knows intellectually that he’s got a point, but at the same time...he can’t help that he was sort of raised brainwashed by romantic comedies and Friends reruns, by the idea that there’s something special and romantic about Valentine’s, the tradition and ritual of it. Truth be told, he’s 17 and has his first boyfriend and just wants some romance and a hand job and maybe a cute teddy bear to put on his bed atop his Marc Jacobs duvet cover. He inhales resolutely, the snap of cold air in his lungs making him want to burrow into Blaine.
“Besides,” Blaine whispers, wrapping his arms further around Kurt as he sinks against his chest, “if I want to give you flowers, I will do that any day, any time I want.” Kurt looks up from his chest just a moment, struck by Blaine’s sweetness and future tense and determination, then relaxes again into his body. Blaine’s lips find the back of his neck, press along his skin, down his jaw. Kurt nudges Blaine’s chin down, pulls his bottom lip between his own until Blaine folds himself against him, warm and whispering words and kisses until the bells on the other side of campus chime and they are definitely late for dinner. Kurt’s hands are under Blaine’s coat and his thumbs fit so perfectly into the notches of Blaine’s hipbones. If it’s between this and a box of cheap chocolates or a pesticide-laced rose, Kurt will obviously take this.
---
They both sign up for the trip to the mall anyway, because it’s nice to get off campus, out of uniform, and be regular teenagers for a few hours. It’s not bad as far as malls in Ohio go. It may not be 5th Avenue but it’s got a Saks and a Coach store, and the fancy tea place Blaine loves. Sometimes they’re with other Warblers and sometimes they all wander off separately - Kurt may or may not buy him several small gifts but they are totally not Valentines and it’s just a coincidence that it’s February, thank you - along the way when Blaine isn’t paying attention.
Blaine is never sure how far he should take the PDA thing when he’s out with Kurt somewhere like this, but Kurt, for all he’s been through, just truly doesn’t give a damn. He holds Blaine’s hand proudly, stops walking right in the middle of the mall to kiss him, puts his arms around him as they look at vests and ties. Inevitably, they arrive at the tea store and its rows and rows of Earl Grey and Lapsang souchong. Even Kurt gets bored in there after about 15 minutes of Blaine opening tiny jars, inhaling, and declaring each one more sublime and fragrant than the last. Kurt squeezes his arm and tells him he’s going to take one more look at a pair of shoes he’s already tried on three times. Blaine is clearly distracted but gives him a quick peck and mumbles something like “ok hurry back ooh, silver needle jasmine!”
---
Kurt is sauntering back toward the tea place, swinging a shopping bag containing the new pair of Cole Haans and sipping a green smoothie when he notices Blaine is already outside of the tea store, talking in fairly close proximity to an older guy Kurt recognizes from school but doesn’t know very well. He’s a senior and a prefect, but not a Warbler, and Kurt has never seen Blaine hang out with him before, so it’s a bit strange to Kurt that they seem so chummy.
Kurt is not a jealous boyfriend, and Blaine has certainly never given him reason to be one, but he can’t help being curious. Blaine and Justin bump fists casually and part ways as Kurt approaches, and Blaine looks ever so slightly flustered as he grabs Kurt’s hand and kisses him hello again, asks him about his purchases. Kurt raises one eyebrow just right, and it’s all it takes. Blaine rolls his eyes fondly and knowingly, steals Kurt’s green smoothie and sips as he talks.
“Justin...we went to soccer camp together one year. He wanted to know if I’m going out for the team. But I can’t this year because of Regionals...and whatever might come after Regionals...so.”
“I didn’t say a word!” Kurt insists, smirking and stealing back his smoothie.
---
It’s dark by the time they leave the mall, especially in the back seat of the charter bus. They maybe make out the whole way back to campus. It’s fairly painful to try to stand and walk by the time they’re being dropped off in the manicured circular hedge driveway. Blaine attempts to flatten his pants, tuck errant curls behind his ears and take some kind of control of the situation now that they’re back on Dalton grounds.
“So...dinner?” He’s smooth and chipper and Kurt just stares at his mouth in the lamplight.
“After.” Kurt pulls him along toward the doorway to his wing of the dorm. They stumble and slip along the marble floor and Kurt fights with his room key a little, swearing and dropping his shoe bag before Blaine calmly presses up against the small of his back and takes the key from his hand.
“These doorknobs are original, dear. Show some love.” Blaine grins and gives him that look he has and with a twist of his wrist the door creaks open. Kurt shoves him inside, kicking his shopping along after him and bumping the door shut with his hip.
---
“Hmmm, do you like that? Does it feel good? Tell me, Blaine...”
“Yeah, yeah just like that...oh god Kurt, feels so good, I want...ahhh feels so good.”
“What do you want, just tell me...anything you want, we can, I want you so bad...”
“I want...I want you too, don’t stop just...I want everything, you know I do...fuck, Kurt don’t stop.”
“I won’t, baby, I won’t stop...I want everything, whenever you want, ok? Just...”
“Right there Kurt, yeah, just like that, god your hand, I want...more soon, so soon...fuck I’m gonna come...oh fuck...”
“Mmmmmmm, good, Blaine...so good. Love it when you come...”
Blaine catches his breath and helps pull Kurt’s sticky hand out of his clothes, careful to wipe it first on his own pants so he doesn’t mess up Kurt’s. It’s thoughtful and intimate, makes Kurt antsy for the more and hopeful for the soon as Blaine slides his hand down the front of Kurt’s trousers, grinning against his lips, “My turn...”
---
Dinner is over and the dining hall long closed by the time they realize they really need food. There’s a Chinese place in town that makes dozens of deliveries to Dalton on weekends, luckily. Blaine loses rock paper scissors and has to go down to the lobby to pick it up. He stops by his room to clean up a bit and change into soft pajama pants and a cozy hoodie, and shows back up at Kurt’s door rumpled and adorable and bearing a huge bag of General Tso’s chicken and hot and sour soup. Kurt is so ridiculously in love.
“Oh! Wait I have the perfect thing for this.” Kurt springs off the bed, goes directly to his closet and pulls out a beautifully wrapped gift, tied with simple silk cords. “I kinda got you a present...”
Blaine looks up, hesitant but curiosity piqued, from where he’s spreading out their food and chopsticks on Kurt’s desk. “Present? Babe, you didn’t have to...”
Kurt thrusts the present into Blaine’s hands and pounces on him and the General Tso’s chicken all at once. “I know I know but I saw it and it was just so perfect for you and you’re my boyfriend and I should be able to buy you a present every now and then just because I want to and it’s just a coincidence that it’s February I swear.”
“Wow, I was going to say something terrible like you’re the only present I need, so thanks for saving me from myself.” Blaine smiles, blushing a little and starting to untie the strings. “But I still strongly suspect this is some kind of Valentine’s Day loophole. I’m onto you. But...this is still sweet, oh wow, Kurt.” Blaine pulls out the heavy piece of pottery, a lovely, simply glazed black teapot, lifts the little lid and places it back with a satisfying sound. “It’s perfect. I don’t have one for my dorm room, just the kettle, so thank you. Let’s eat some food and I’ll go get the Darjeeling.” He sets the pot down carefully, leaning down to kiss Kurt’s neck while he happily spoons soup into a little mug.
Kurt sets down his food and looks at Blaine seriously. “You’re welcome. And please don’t misunderstand, just because I give you a gift doesn’t mean I expect a whole...thing. I know you have your own peculiar feelings about this but I like giving presents and I want to do nice things for my boyfriend. So just...trust that I’m not oppressing anyone or destroying the rain forest, I just see something nice for you and I want to get it. OK?”
Blaine smiles, a little sadly, out of one side of his mouth, looking down at the chicken he’s picking through with his chopsticks. “Now I feel like a jerk...I know you enjoy it, and I’m sorry I came across like that. It’s my issue and it’s family baggage too and we don’t need to get into it right now...but I appreciate your gift very much and I can’t wait to use it. Even if it’s totally a Valentine’s thing...”
“It’s February 5th. Totally is not.”
“OK, well no more February gifts.”
“Maybe just one...or two.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s why you love m--...” Kurt snaps his mouth shut around his spoon to try to stop the last syllable but it’s too late. He tries to look away but Blaine is too quick to catch his eye. Blaine smirks, blushes, pops a piece of chicken into his mouth. “You’re not wrong.”
---
Their school week is infuriatingly busy, probably by design, Kurt thinks grumpily as he drags a line across a graph for a chemistry project online. He knows exactly what he’d do if he had 30 free minutes with Blaine right now and he can see why the school makes sure a bunch of hormonal teenage boys doesn’t have that kind of time. He sees him briefly in the mornings at assembly - the damned roses are brought up every day, it seems - in class and at Warbler’s practice, and then at dinner. They eat, rush upstairs for a few moments together before the whole dorm packs in for study hours, and if they are lucky, have a few minutes of peace in the late evening to just lie down on Kurt’s bed and talk quietly before room check.
Kurt touches the back of Blaine’s neck, runs his fingers lightly up and down his arm as he talks about his day, about classes or music or whatever. Kurt listens, looks, at Blaine and at his own fingers on his skin and he can’t help himself, he just wants and it’s making him feel crazy. He wants more and he wants to know Blaine and he really wants to fuck or make love or something he’s not entirely sure he just knows they haven’t yet, god, and he wants to tell Blaine that it’s ok what they accidentally said the other night, that he would say it again. He sure as hell wants to hear it again. Blaine kisses him goodnight and it’s sweet and soft and then he’s alone again, curled up in his bed, half aroused, half asleep, not really committed to either.
---
Warblers practice is cancelled on Thursday. Kurt is exhausted and grateful for the reprieve as he drags his books back to his room. Blaine’s last class is a little longer than his, so he has some time to just relax. He changes out of his uniform, hanging his blazer carefully and putting on lounging pants and a warm, fuzzy sweater. He lies down, skimming half-heartedly on his laptop, then closes it and rests his eyes. He can’t quite fall asleep so he gets up to see if Blaine’s back yet, taking a small wrapped packet from his gift stash.
As he rounds the corner to Blaine’s room, he sees Justin sliding a flat envelope under Blaine’s door. He stares a minute at Justin’s profile as he stands, his thick legs and stupid muscled neck, trying to decide how annoyed he is by this. There’s nothing he wants to say, nothing he can say, really - Justin’s a prefect and outranks him in pretty much every way. Kurt still gives him the iciest, bitchiest glare he has in his arsenal as he turns on his heel and strides back to his own room, the gift for Blaine clutched in his fist.
---
Kurt makes it through dinner without blurting out something impulsive and brash, which might be a record length of time for him in a moderately agitated state. He tries to convince himself he has no reason to be suspicious of Blaine or not trust him, but he hates the nagging feeling that Blaine is keeping something from him.
“Want to have some tea in my room? My roommate’s at an away game,” Blaine offers as they finish dinner.
Kurt is a little annoyed but not to the point where he’s going to say no to alone time. “Sure...let me go to my room and get something. See you up there?” He goes to his room and grabs the packet of rose rooibos tea he was bringing earlier. When he gets back to Blaine’s room, the door is not closed, just pushed to. Kurt nudges it with his shoulder and sees Blaine reading texts on his phone. He quickly (yes, guiltily, Kurt thinks) tosses his phone into his open book bag on the floor. Kurt sighs, tosses him the tea, and raises that eyebrow again.
“You have, like, no poker face, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Blaine opens the zip-lock pouch of tea and take a deep inhale of the aroma. “And no more presents, babe, please?”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about but it’s something...you’re up to. I don’t know. But you are. And maybe I’ll just keep the rest of your tea surprises, hmmm?”
Blaine gasps in mock offense, clasps his hand over his heart. “You wouldn’t.”
“Maybe I would. You just don’t know, do you? Make me some tea, then, while I figure out what to do with you,” Kurt challenges, sitting on Blaine’s bed primly and looking up at him.
Blaine crosses over to him, standing in front of him and just slightly, barely pushing his knees apart to fit himself between them, leans in and drapes his hands over Kurt’s shoulders, dragging his fingertips up and down softly. “Hey. I’m not...there’s nothing for you to worry about, ok? I can promise you that.”
“Mmmm, that feels nice...I saw Justin here today.”
“Yeah? That’s ok...he’s a prefect.” Blaine rubs his hand soothingly over Kurt’s back, but it’s making him even more edgy, the way he’s holding him just close enough to his hip making him feel that little bit of crazy coming on again.
“I know that...what was he dropping off for you?” Kurt murmurs, trying not to push too hard. Just a little.
Blaine laughs, the tiniest puff of air, and pulls Kurt closer. “French notes.” He feels Kurt go slack and pull away from him, and has to pull him right back, taking his face in his hands, kissing him for good measure, full and firm and a tiny bit heated. “Don’t worry about it, ok? It’s nothing. What kind of tea do you want?”
Kurt just shrugs. He doesn’t feel like he trusts everything right now, and he definitely doesn’t care about the tea. Even this tiny bit of doubt is throwing him off and he’d really much rather be back where his biggest problem in their relationship was waiting for Blaine to be ready to sleep with him.
Blaine sighs heavily and leans against Kurt’s shoulder, rolling his forehead against him like his head hurts. “Look. Here are some things I can tell you about myself. I am totally arrogant sometimes and I get moody and weird and I go on rants about corporate colonialism and high fructose corn syrup. And I’m probably going to turn into the clingiest, most needy boyfriend on earth after we have sex and I’ll smother you and you’ll wish you could pawn me off on another guy a few days a week. But I am, like, completely in love with you. And I really wasn’t going to tell you that tonight, but here we are. So please, please kiss me and have some tea with me and believe me when I say there’s nothing going on that you need to be worried about. Ok?” He looks wrecked and so desperate it’s a little pathetic, actually, and Kurt just can’t take it.
Kurt rolls his eyes and grabs him by the shoulders. “Oh my god, Blaine, fine. Lavender Earl Grey, a little bit of honey. Come here.” Blaine is off balance as Kurt pulls him down to kiss him and it’s perfect how he lands practically on top of him. Kurt’s earlier agitation and Blaine’s stupidly sweet speech have somehow combined to make Kurt even more eager than usual - and he’s always eager.
“Do you...what do you think?” Blaine asks, letting his eyes fall shut as Kurt squirms and shimmies into place on top of him, wedging his thighs apart so he can fit there.
“About what,” Kurt mumbles against his neck, mouthing a warm, wet path around his collar, fingering open the buttons at the top to get at more of him.
“About...us, I guess? Like, what I said?” Blaine is trying way too hard to get Kurt to focus on that when he should be focusing on this, Kurt thinks, sliding his hand up between Blaine’s legs and feeling him, hard and anxious and god he wants this bad.
“I think this would be better if you took your pants off. And I...am totally in love with you too, so it’s ok for me to say that.” Kurt kisses him before he can start thinking again, gives him his tongue to suck on while he reaches down to unbutton Blaine’s pants because he’s definitely getting his boyfriend naked, and right now.
Kurt has thought, quite a bit actually, about what this would be like and how he’d be kind of lost and overwhelmed and uncertain when this finally happened, but somehow, right now, sliding Blaine’s pants and boxer briefs down his legs and settling onto his knees to face Blaine’s cock for the first time, he is not even the least bit hesitant to bring it to his lips, taste it, smile up at Blaine and savor the look on his face and he sinks his mouth down over him.
It’s really everything Kurt had hoped it would be, the feel of Blaine’s dick in his mouth. It’s stiff and thick and hard to fit his mouth around, but petal soft and so sensitive he barely has to do anything but drag his tongue along the skin and Blaine is crying out and swearing at him. “Fuck, fuck fuck Kurt, your mouth oh my god...there are people in the hallway Kurt, anyone could come knock on my door right now...”
“Is that turning you on or off,” Kurt stops, stares at him for a panicked moment, his mouth wet and still right there on his head, waiting.
“I don’t know, I don’t...fuck, on, I guess? God just keep doing that...what you were doing,” and Kurt has his mouth back on him in the length of a breath and Blaine is writhing underneath him, grabbing him by his hair, his shoulders, anything he can reach and touch and everything he does just encourages Kurt to try more, try deeper, try his hand at the same time. He gets him in as deep as he can, can just barely feel the head of Blaine’s cock against the ridge in the back of his throat and his lips squeeze around the rest and Blaine starts to lose it.
“Wanted this for so long, oh my god Kurt. Gonna do so many things to you. Want you to fuck me. Want to fuck you, god, you don’t even...”
“Oh my god do you think we could?” Kurt stops him cold, pulls his mouth off just a fraction and Blaine’s heart almost stops. He weakly pushes up to try to look at Kurt, who’s looking up at Blaine through shaky breaths and eyelashes, but Blaine can barely even focus.
“You mean...right now???” His eyes are still wild but he looks positively aghast, like Kurt has just suggested that they take a naked jog around campus in the snow.
“Yes, like, right now. Most of your hall is gone anyway and your door is locked. We’re alone. We’re in love. I feel like you’re ready and I know I’m ready and oh my god Blaine, please, I really really want you to fuck me.”
“Ohhhh god Kurt you don’t even...” Blaine grabs him and pulls him on top of him again, kissing his mouth, his face, pushing his hips up into him just to see if he’s real. Kurt bears back down as hard as he can and whines against Blaine’s mouth, biting down his chin and neck and trying to get a grip on anything that makes sense because his pants are still on and Blaine is trying to say words again. “We were going to wait until Saturday, and it was going to be amazing, and fuck just Saturday just two days and I don’t even care, I want to be inside you so bad,” he’s flat out babbling and Kurt is just about to shove two fingers in his mouth so he can see what he looks like sucking on them when he pieces together about half of Blaine’s words and...what?
“What? What’s Saturday? What are you talking about...” Kurt slows everything down but doesn’t stop completely, grinding his hips against Blaine slowly, tauntingly, testing.
“The piano...fuck I suck I can’t believe I’m fucking this up so bad...the piano conservatory...on the third floor...this whole plan and you were going to come up there and I have all these candles and blankets and I can play the piano, did you know that?” Blaine’s just laying there naked and rambling about pianos and a little bit of pre-come is pulsing onto Kurt’s hand and he doesn’t know what the hell is happening.
“Wait...that whole wing is locked on weekends...” Kurt sits back on his heels and his hands are still on him but he’s further away and Blaine definitely doesn’t want that.
“But Justin...has keys. I told you we were friends at soccer camp.” He pushes up a little into Kurt’s hand, trying to find more touch, more friction.
“Oh. Oh. Oh I’m an asshole.” Kurt’s eyes go soft and sweet and his mouth hangs open, round and perfect and Blaine has never seen him look so flushed, even when he’s just come.
“Nah. You’re not. I liked you being a little jealous, I’ll admit,” Blaine sort of grins, rubbing one hand possessively up Kurt’s thigh and around to his ass.
“I wasn’t jealous. I was...concerned. And that’s, um, really sweet. I can’t believe you planned all that for me.”
“I wanted to do something for you...not because it was Valentine’s Day or whatever, just because...I knew we were ready and I thought I could make it all, well not roses, but like, lavender tea and piano music or something.” Blaine laughs and pulls Kurt down close, slides his hand absentmindedly up under his shirt. “You don’t want to...wait until then, do you?”
“Oh god no. I don’t want to wait for anything with you anymore. Do you want to wait?” Kurt pulls himself up and swings his leg over, straddling Blaine and pressing his hands across his abdomen, leans down to kiss his chest before Blaine can even answer.
Blaine shivers and reaches for him, one arm around him and hand feeling its way down his spine, the other lifting Kurt’s chin, touching lips to lips and he can barely speak. “I’m so ready, babe. Whatever you want...” His hands drag down Kurt’s shoulders, help pull his shirt the rest of the way off, and grasp at his wrists as they slip away for a moment.
Kurt’s standing and Blaine’s watching, their eyes never breaking contact as Kurt unzips his pants, steps out of them and lays them aside. He pauses a moment, looking up and down at how Blaine is totally naked and sprawled and doesn’t even seem to care, and knows he needs to get past this one little hurdle of uncertainty and everything will just flow. He smiles, nervous but ready and so, so happy, takes a deep breath, and pushes his boxer briefs down too.
“Oh my god...you need to come back here right now...” Blaine looks completely gone, his eyes dazed and he just opens his arms for Kurt to crawl into. Kurt slides along his body, feeling every inch of them both as they brush against each other, skin and hands and Blaine’s lips making good on their promises from earlier. Then it’s his cock in Blaine’s hands and mouth and he’s rocking and he’s losing it.
He makes himself stop, makes Blaine pull off, looking down at his dick against Blaine’s cheek and he’s asking, “Do you want me to make you come?” And Kurt does, he so does, he’s never wanted anything so much in his life but he wants something else even more. He pulls his legs up, shifting legs and rearranging until Blaine can get his body right where Kurt wants it, asks, quietly, as Blaine’s fingers find their spot, “Do you have...”
Blaine touches him there once and growls, closes his mouth over Kurt’s and it all shifts. “I have everything.”
---
At 7:00 sharp on Saturday night, Kurt makes his way up the windy staircase to the wing of music chambers and waits at the locked door of the piano conservatory for Blaine to open it. Kurt smirks when he sees his face, produces from behind his back a single long-stemmed red rose.
“I can’t believe you...” Blaine laughs, ridiculous, and rolls his eyes.
“I can’t believe you took my virginity in your dorm during study hours.” Kurt smiles, remembering everything about it, stupid and sweet and wonderful and he can’t wait to do it again.
“Touché.” Blaine kisses him, longing and hard and messy, pulls him into the room...as promised, lit by nothing more than a scattering of candles.
Kurt presses his forehead down to Blaine’s, gently strokes his cheek. “Let’s see if we can make your first time a little more romantic.”
---
Highest rating preferred: NC-17
Prompt(s) used: an interpretive mix of
1) Kurt's never had a Valentine before, or at least not one that "counts." Now that he has Blaine, he goes overboard with the holiday spirit--flowers, candy, gifts. Blaine's celebrations, on the other hand, are far more simple, but personalized and special for Kurt.
&
3) Kurt decides that Valentine's Day is the perfect day to lose his virginity, and he and Blaine plan the whole thing out in an overly cliched, romantic fashion. Life, parents, step-brothers, Warblers, and Rachel Berry have a way of messing things up, however, and it ends up going down not-exactly according to plan. Neither Kurt or Blaine mind, in the end, because the candles and mood music weren't really what counted.