Fic: "Until My Dying Breath", Chapter Ten -- Part One. Kurt/Blaine Vampire AU.
Ahahahaha. Hiiiiiiiii, everyone. ^^;; I've been a bit absent from fandom lately.
My sincerest apologies for anyone I've been taking a long time getting back to! I simply haven't been in a very fannish mindset lately, and with that and the busyness of school I don't think I've even read fanfic or been on my tumblr in over a month. :O But not only did I make a commitment to complete this story, I also have way too many ideas set after Blaine's turning to ever get away with not writing it. So thank you very much, I truly appreciate you all, and the final installment of this series will be coming as soon as I can manage it. <3 (Also, for those who are curious, this is my headcanon for Kurt's song in the second part.)
Title: "Until My Dying Breath" -- Chapter Ten
Author: emilianadarling
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Vampire AU with all the unpleasantness that entails. Dubious consent, violence, pain, bloodplay, flippant murder, dissociation from human emotions, blood drinking, sexualized violence, grotesque descriptions, dark setting, fear, minor past character death, intense dark emotions, brief contemplation of suicide in a previous chapter, mugging, murder, kinda-suicide, tremendously unreliable narrator. Warnings on a chapter by chapter basis.
Length: 11,800-ish for this chapter
Story Summary: On his way home from campus to his apartment on the Upper East Side, Blaine Anderson happens to come across a beautiful young man with bewitching blue eyes. It doesn’t take long, though, for everything Blaine thought was real to fall to pieces. For his world to dissolve into a twisted dance of fear and heat and blood.
Notes: Hello, all! This chapter gave me a bit of trouble until I realized that what I had been attempting to make into a single super-long chapter worked much better as a smaller entity. Thank you so much for your patience and for all your incredible feedback, and apologies for the wait! I've had a hard time being motivated by fannish things lately, but this story will be completed. One more installment to go after this -- I can barely believe it! (What will I spend all my time thinking about once this is done, I wonder? <3)
Please do let me know what you think: I honestly cannot wait to hear your impressions, and they truly do mean so much to me. As always, my tumblr is here.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Epilogue
--
They stay like that for long minutes; kissing and clawing and straining at one another in the darkness of the alley, Kurt’s legs wrapped around Blaine’s waist and the flurries of snow falling thicker and thicker like a blanket through the air. Kissing Kurt is like discovering him all over again; the taste of his mouth, the depth of his smell, the perfect way they’ve always fit together that Blaine can only begin to appreciate fully now.
The dead girl’s arm is still dangling over the edge of the garbage bin; it sways ever-so-slightly in the wind in a way that tugs at the corner of Blaine’s vision, but it’s nowhere near enough to distract him from Kurt. Kurt, whose nails are digging into his shoulders and is squeezing him so tight it should hurt; who is sighing and letting out soft little breathy noises into the kisses as he bites down on Blaine’s lip hard enough to draw blood. He lets out a little mewl of pleasure when Blaine pushes him harder against the alley wall; it makes his clothed back scrape against the roughness of the bricks as Blaine mouths over his neck and feels the erotic, slow pulse of blood beneath the skin.
The cold of the air and snow feels like less than nothing, and the warm blood in his stomach fills him with so much warmth Blaine is practically bursting. He feels giddy and powerful, soaring and shining. Everything is different and new and reborn, rising from ashes and brand new eyes, and something wonderful twists in Blaine’s stomach at the hot realization of how much Kurt has done for him. Of how much he held himself back, and waited, and restrained, and thought that Blaine was special.
Kurt isn’t holding back anymore, though. And Blaine doesn’t have to either.
“I could do anything,” Blaine rumbles against Kurt’s mouth, still feeling drunk from the sudden rush of incredible power; it makes him laugh out loud, pressing his forehead against Kurt’s and breathing hard. He digs his nails into the back of Kurt’s neck; hears the sharp hiss of inhaled breath, feels the way Kurt leans into the pleasure-pain of it. It makes something needy coil along his spine and tingle beneath his skin. “I could - no one can ever tell me what to do again, Kurt, god. I could - I could go anywhere, have whatever I want. I could slaughter those kids who bullied me in high school, or - or anything.”
“Yes,” Kurt groans, letting out a long breath of air as though the very idea is intoxicating. His pupils are heavily dilated, the smudges of blood along his mouth gleaming in the low lamplight from the street. “Anything, everything you want. We can have all of it, forever, it never has to end -”
“I want you,” says Blaine, practically growling. “I never stopped wanting you, you were right. You were right about everything, I just couldn’t see it.” He presses a kiss against Kurt’s jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “Thank you,” says Blaine, his voice strangely high and choked and gratitude pounding in his chest like a pulse. He presses more of the little half-kisses against Kurt’s skin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...”
Kurt swallows thickly. “Blaine,” he says, high and strangled and blinking hard, and Blaine cuts him off by pressing their mouths together in a hard, ferocious kiss.
“We should -” Kurt begins, trying to pull away but seemingly unable to resist pressing a kiss against Blaine’s cheek, his brow, the corner of his mouth. “Are you still hungry?” he manages after a moment, seemingly attempting to focus as he twists his fingers in Blaine’s hair and mouths frantically along his jaw line.
“M’fine,” murmurs Blaine, clutching Kurt around the middle and loving the way this feels. How they can do this to each other, now. Bite and tear and tug and not have to hold back, or pretend, or resist. “Just want you, I need you -”
“Home,” says Kurt decisively, biting down hard on Blaine’s lip and arching up against the press of Blaine’s body. He lets out a breathy little noise of satisfaction and anticipation and delight as he slides his tongue along the corner of Blaine’s lips, catching a smear of blood. “Let’s go home.”
“Home,” says Blaine in agreement, leaning his head to catch Kurt’s mouth in a final kiss.
It doesn’t take them long to get themselves organized. Once they break away from one another Kurt slides down from the wall with graceful ease, and Blaine speeds over to the dumpster to shove the girl’s hand over the edge while he still has the presence of mind to do so. It slithers bonelessly into the emptiness inside, and the body’s weight settling on the refuse at the bottom makes a soft little thump sound. It’s easy as that; simple and over and tucked away.
Kurt is quick but meticulous for the clean-up. Handfuls of the more clean-looking snow from the ground are enough to wipe their faces and hands perfunctorily clean of the slicks of bright red blood. There are only a few smears on Kurt’s face from their kisses, but Blaine’s face takes longer to clean. The bottom half of his face is sticky and tacky from the blood that had burst from the girl’s neck when he fed, and the red of it has steeped into his skin and left a pinkish stain that Kurt fusses over. Something impossibly affectionate flares in Blaine’s chest when Kurt pauses, reaches down - and pulls out a packet of moist wipes from his coat pocket. The sight of them makes something between amusement and affection swell in Blaine’s chest.
Kurt swipes one of the wipes over Blaine’s lips and chin, rubbing in deep to remove as much of the stain as possible. When Blaine’s face is as clean as they can get it, Kurt removes his own scarf and wraps it loosely around Blaine’s neck to conceal the stains on his shirt and coat.
Barely-constrained anticipation shuddering anxiously in the space between them, the two of them catch one another’s eyes as Kurt finishes wrapping the delicate fabric around Blaine’s neck. They stay there for a brief moment, unspoken words ringing loud and clear as snow falls around them in the night.
And then they’re turning and going, going, going into the night. Out of the alley and out into the street. Back towards the main road, and the apartment, and the rest of the world.
Back to the home where they can finally have each other for what they are.
--
The journey back is a feverish rush of pounding hearts and soaring exhilaration, and by the time they get to the apartment door Blaine’s vision is practically blurred from the excitement pulsing alongside the hot blood in his stomach. Kurt’s hands shake and fumble with the keys for seconds that feel like centuries until finally the door gives way and they’re pushing inside, already grasping clawing kissing again as the door slams shut behind them. He lets out an audible groan of pleasure at the incredible feel of Kurt’s mouth, so perfect and familiar and his as they stand in the place where Blaine - human Blaine, weak Blaine, pointless Blaine, the Blaine from before - had been kept and held and fucked and taken care of what feels like so very long ago.
The apartment is the same place as before but different, so different, because before it had been Kurt’s place and Kurt’s things and Kurt’s prison for a stupid little nothing who didn’t know any better than to run away from the things it didn’t understand, but now...
Now it’s theirs, everything is theirs, KurtandBlaine KurtandBlaine KurtandBlaine like it was always meant to be long before either of them knew it.
It’s a heady thought, and a heated jolt of sharp arousal clenches at Blaine’s stomach as Kurt grabs his shoulders with delicate-thin hands and pushes so that Blaine’s back collides forcefully against the closed door. The impact is so hard that it almost hurts, but Blaine just tips his head back against the wood and laughs as Kurt kisses his cheek and scrabbles to tug the scarf off Blaine’s neck.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Kurt reprimands him, sending him an extremely unimpressed look at Blaine’s inappropriate laughter, but Blaine can see that there isn’t any real anger in it. Instead, Kurt’s voice is breathy and desperate as he tries to muster himself in chastisement, attempting to scold even as his fingers are imprecise from want. It’s funny, Blaine realizes, sweet understanding breaking over him like a wave. Kurt is funny. He’s a funny person - always has been, except Blaine can only see it now that his vision isn’t skewed and clouded and obscured anymore.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got it,” says Blaine quickly, reassuringly, laughing and out of breath and heartbeat filing his body. He reaches up and strips off the scarf in a single easy movement, then works at getting himself out of the rest of his clothes. Kurt catches on after a moment, reaching down to begin unbuttoning his own coat.
Before long Blaine is naked down to his underwear, jeans and blood-crusted shirt and coat and scarf all discarded in a messy pile of fabric on the floor around them. His cock is hard and aching and straining against the thin material of his boxer-briefs, mind running frantic-fast over all of the things they can do together now that his body is strong and hard, not weak and tired and dizzy and breakable. Kurt doesn’t have to toy with him anymore; doesn’t have to hold back and restrain and tamp down and treat him like a china doll because now he can take it. Can take what is given and give right back, and when Blaine thinks about picking Kurt up like he did in the alley - sliding him up against the living room wall and fucking him against it like Kurt did for him on his first night here - he practically whines in anticipation.
But when he looks up, grinning eagerly and thumbs already hooked into the material of his underwear to push them down over his hips, Blaine is surprised to see that Kurt is still almost fully clothed. Although he is longer wearing the heavy winter coat, the long lines of Kurt’s body are still hidden away by form-fitting black slacks, and his collared shirt only partially undone. There is a pink tinge rising in Kurt’s pale cheeks as he stares down at the floor, and he almost looks uncomfortable as he lingers over the buttons.
“Hey,” says Blaine quietly, the heat of arousal dying down immediately at the sight of Kurt looking so uneasy in front of him. He gently reaches up to cradle the back of Kurt’s head, tilting their foreheads together. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” says Kurt quickly, sounding high and strangled, shaking his head and biting down on his lower lip. “Nothing, it’s just...” Kurt glances down at his own body, squirming almost imperceptibly except for the fact that Blaine can feel so much more now than he did before. There is a perfect, tantalizing triangle of pale chest exposed by the half-undone buttons, and the slightest hint of a tightened rosy nipple exposed to the air. Kurt blinks, licking his lips and leaning into Blaine’s touch. “It’s just... it’s different, now. You seeing me. I’m not... I’ve never been like this before, not with them, not since... but...”
Worry and apprehension twist in Blaine’s stomach like fighting snakes. It hurts to see Kurt like this. Hurts to see him unsure and worried; it’s the worst sight in the world, because Kurt is strong and Kurt is sure and Kurt doesn’t hesitate, and all Blaine wants is to fix this. To wipe that nervous expression on Kurt’s face away; to make him feel better.
At the same time, though, a guilty warmth is growing in the base of Blaine’s stomach. Because it’s so very, very new that Kurt is letting him see this. Lets Blaine see him out of control, and worried, and scared. His mind flashes to Kurt’s face when he woke up on the bed, streaked with tears and frantic and begging for Blaine to be okay, and a ripple of something intimate and close and protective shivers through him.
In front of him, Kurt raises his eyes. He sighs, letting out a sardonic little laugh that sounds more than a little forced. “I... want you to like me. Like the way I look, and what we do together, and how we are together. And... and I’ve never been worried about that before. Not even when you were human, you know? Even though it was you and you’re everything, not even then because I knew I could make you want me, Blaine, I knew it.” He hesitates. “But now... now we’re the same. You’re full and real and you, and I just...” He swallows, closing his eyes and reaching up to wrap his arms around Blaine’s neck. “I want you to like what you see.”
“Kurt,” says Blaine quietly, overwhelmed surprise and sweetness resonating in his chest.
Blaine can see that Kurt is blinking away the wetness gathering at his eyes, and it strikes him that even in the months and months of being followed and hunted and kept, he never really saw Kurt the way that he sees him now. Never saw the vulnerable parts, or the funny parts, or the parts that are so sweetly romantic that it makes Blaine want to sigh and never stop kissing him. Through all they’ve shared together, Blaine never saw how strong Kurt was to keep Blaine alive when killing him would have been so, so much easier.
But he can finally see clearly now.
“Kurt,” Blaine murmurs, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist and barely holding himself back from burying his face in Kurt’s neck and never, never leaving. His voice catches when he speaks again, and he doesn’t even bother to hide it. He takes a deep breath, feeling Kurt’s newly-warm skin against his own. “Kurt... I more than like what I see. So much more than that.”
He can feel Kurt’s arms tightening around his shoulders, hard enough that it would have probably come close to breaking his neck if he was still weak like before. Instead, it just feels warm and safe and close and real.
“You do?” comes Kurt’s voice, so beautiful that Blaine’s heart aches.
“Of course I do,” says Blaine, and almost before he can get the words out Kurt is pressing their mouths together. Squeezing his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and kissing him as though he’s trying to consume the words, imbibe them and make them a part of him and keep them inside forever.
It’s all amplified, somehow. Every nerve buzzing and heightened and something so, so perfect shared between them like a promise. Kurt kisses him like it means something, like it means everything; slow and nearly chaste and the whole world narrowed down to this moment. Blaine holds him close, surrendering himself to this even as Kurt surrenders too, and wonders why he ever tried to run away when he could have had this all along.
When they separate, Kurt’s eyes are closed and his breath catches as he tilts their foreheads together again. He hesitates, and then -
“I love you. Love you, Blaine. Love you so much.”
Hearing that word - that perfect, perfect word that has been so pointedly and meticulously absent all this time, silent and muted through all the talk of caring about you and need you and mine - is like a revelation. It hits Blaine right in the chest, making his heart catch in his throat and his eyes sting as he hears and treasures and savours that amazing word.
He knows beyond a doubt that Kurt cared about him, before. Wanted to turn him, to make Blaine into something powerful and real and right like he was. Kurt knew he was special and pined after the idea of what Blaine had the potential to become. But even through all of that, Kurt didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him.
Inside, Blaine’s emotions are twisted about and different and strange. And since he woke, Blaine has been rolling them over and examining them in the back of his mind, trying to make sense of how very different everything feels. Some things feel amplified, others dialled down and softened so low he can barely remember what they used to feel like. But love...
Love is a word that Kurt held back and kept inside, cherished close and never spoke out loud - not even to lure or cajole him. It rings in his ears and hits him right in the chest, because Kurt loves him. Finally can love him, and it’s the single most glorious and shattering thing Blaine has ever experienced. More terrifying than dying, more exhilarating than his first feed.
As though seeing through fog, Blaine’s mouth softly falls open as all of the different feelings and facts click into place; as everything lines up and makes sense and he realizes that he loves Kurt back.
Blaine loves Kurt; loves him more than everything else put together, more than he has ever loved anything in the whole of his human existence. The rest of the world could burn and crumble and die screaming, and none of it would matter as long as he had Kurt with him.
“I love you, too,” says Blaine, fingers splaying out along the loose material of Kurt’s shirt on his back, and Kurt whimpers at the words. Blaine presses his lips against Kurt’s cheek, his jaw, his neck; savours the bone-deep rightness of Kurt’s smell, how it fills him up and makes him feel complete. “God, I love you, too.”
“Yes,” says Kurt, practically choking the word out, his nails digging into the skin of Blaine’s bare shoulders hard enough to draw blood. Blaine can feel it well up under the sharpness, can feel the hot wet trickle of it begin to slide down his back. It feels good. “Yes, yes, yes -”
Blaine cuts him off with a kiss, and Kurt’s lips are damp and warm and perfect against his. They’re both breathing hard by the time they pull away, Kurt’s eyes so blue and bright and wonderful; shining at him with incomprehensible emotion.
“You took care of me before,” Blaine murmurs against Kurt’s lips. “You’re so beautiful, Kurt. Let me show you how beautiful you are.”
“Okay,” says Kurt, looking at Blaine as though all of his dreams have come true at once. And when Blaine moves away and extends his hand for Kurt to take, Kurt smiles a genuine, perfect, real smile that makes his lips stretch wide and his eyes crinkle around the edges. “Okay.”
Slowly, Blaine leads them into the bedroom with sure steps and his hand nestled perfectly against Kurt’s palm. When they reach the doorway, it’s such a surprise to see the door partly-smashed in and hanging off one of its hinges that Blaine’s footsteps falter; he had almost entirely forgotten about the way he had struggled, before. It’s probably only been a few hours since Blaine had cried and pleaded as he was carried through this doorway, but instead it feels as though a thousand years have passed since then. Sure enough, once they turn into the room Blaine can see the pile of sheets discarded against the wall; crusted thick with dark brown bloodstains, shoved aside by Kurt as he waited for Blaine to wake up.
He grabs the clean duvet off the floor instead, throwing it over the bed and using it to cover the likely still-wet bloodstains on the mattress itself. They’ll deal with the mess later.
For now, they undress Kurt slowly and carefully. Shirt and socks and slacks and underwear all gently peeled away until there’s nothing but Kurt left; pale and forever-young and beautiful, staring back at Blaine with apprehensive anticipation and love in his eyes. He’s more beautiful than Blaine has ever been able to see, every tiny detail of his body standing out to Blaine’s sharp eyes like they never did before; the smoothness of his skin, the incredible strength hiding in his arms. Kurt’s cock is as beautiful as the rest of him, long and smooth and rosy-hard, the pubic hair trimmed meticulously neat. The sight makes Blaine’s mouth water, and when Kurt slides Blaine’s own underwear off of his hips the two of them are finally completely naked.
Gently, Blaine guides Kurt so that he’s lying on his back on top of the duvet. Kurt allows himself be led, staring at Blaine with an expression that makes Blaine’s heart sing. When he’s finally lying down Blaine crawls between his legs, his own cock growing hard again as he stares at Kurt, sprawled out in front of him and quietly gorgeous. The smell of his own dried blood in the air only helps; human and old but alive when he bled, the heavy smell of it wrapped around the two of them like an embrace.
“So beautiful,” says Blaine softly, leaning down to ghost his lips over Kurt’s chest. Kurt sucks in a breath, his hand coming up to tangle in Blaine’s loose curls. My hair must look like a complete disaster, Blaine thinks briefly, absurdly, before he slides his tongue over one of Kurt’s nipples and any thought other than Kurt flies out of his head all at once. Kurt gasps, arching up into his touch as his hand clenches and spasms in Blaine’s hair, and Blaine can’t help himself from smiling as he sucks and worries the skin gently in his mouth. Kurt is sensitive, he realizes, the pleasant surprise tingling in his fingertips; there’s so much he hasn’t discovered about Kurt’s body. So much to learn about what he likes and what he doesn’t like despite all the times they’ve been together, and all he wants to do is know Kurt as well as Kurt knows him.
He slides his mouth down along Kurt’s ribcage, his concave stomach, the sharp jut of his hipbones; kissing and teasing sweetly with his tongue, inhaling deep as he gets closer and closer to Kurt’s cock. And god, the smell of him is so unbelievably erotic; blood pooled beneath the skin, pulsing and straining just for him, and the incredible smell of want rolling off of Kurt’s body in waves. Blaine makes himself hold back and wait; he mouths against the crease of Kurt’s thigh, the soft rippled skin of his balls that tightens as he breathes and kisses around them, the base of Kurt’s cock. Blaine focuses on filtering out the rest of the noise and input from the room and focusing on this. On breathing everything in and learning Kurt; heightened senses noting every gasp, every time Kurt tenses up, every shift of his heart rate.
It’s beyond intimate, beyond close; as though he’s reaching into Kurt’s body and feeling how he feels.
After a few minutes, though, Kurt is already panting and writhing underneath him. Hands twisted up in the loose duvet, Kurt lets out a needy whimper.
“Please,” Kurt moans, visibly restraining himself from grabbing the back of Blaine’s head and forcing him down. His eyes are liquid and desperate, and his whole body is begging for more god Blaine please need it want it please please please please please. Kurt’s hips twitch upwards as he stares wantonly up at him, and Blaine suddenly feels a hundred times more powerful than when he had bitten into that girl’s neck. “Blaine, please, I -”
The rest of the sentence is cut off, however, when Blaine opens his mouth wide and takes Kurt’s cock into his mouth as deep as he can go; wrapping his lips around the hot (gloriously hot, perfect, so perfect) skin and sucking wetly, his eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of it. The weight of Kurt’s cock filling up his mouth, the feel of the blood swollen and hot beneath the skin; the perfect curve of Kurt’s cock edging down into his throat.
“Oh, fuck,” Kurt gasps, both of his hands flying up to cover his face as Blaine slides his mouth around his cock. His voice is high and shaky. “Fuck, Blaine. God, you’re so good. You’re so good, even better like this, god.”
It’s been a long time since Blaine has done this properly. He has only ever made Kurt come with his mouth once during his stay here, and that had been during a blurred moment of confusion between sleeping and waking. Where the world had spun and seemed dream-like and strange, and afterward he had felt so ashamed and humiliated that he had almost been physically ill. Kurt had whispered sweet words and stroked his curls, and Blaine had tasted the salty tang in his mouth and wanted nothing more than to disappear.
This, though. This is so, so much different than that had ever been. Every single bit of the power is Blaine’s, here; the power to give pleasure and the power to hold back. The power to leave Kurt gasping and begging for more.
Blaine doesn’t want to tease, though; he wants to make Kurt feel good, instead. He tightens his lips around Kurt’s cock and slides his mouth up and down in smooth quick movements, holding Kurt’s hips down with his hands when it becomes apparent that Kurt can’t hold himself back from thrusting back. Takes Kurt down so hard and deep he almost chokes before sliding back up and swirling his tongue around the head in turns, sucking and mouthing until Kurt it practically keening. Kurt’s hands are still pressed over his own face, shaking and twisted up and obscuring his features.
“Let me see you,” murmurs Blaine, pulling his mouth away from Kurt’s cock long enough to speak. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re so gorgeous, Kurt, so beautiful when I do this to you - so beautiful always.” Kurt chokes out a little moan in response, but doesn’t move his hands away - as though he can’t, as though he doesn’t have enough control over himself to do anything right now.
“Blaine,” Kurt chokes, the sound finding its way muffled through his fingers. He sounds absolutely wrecked, his beautifully high voice all torn up and ragged. “Blaine.” His heart is thumping so fast in his chest, his body tightening up and straining.
“I can feel you,” says Blaine, leaning in to give the head a long suck, pulling his mouth away with a wet pop. Kurt whines. “Can smell how good you feel, everything, god, you’re so beautiful. You’re perfect, so perfect.” He wraps his lips around the tip again and sucks, lazy and slow, not wanting to do too much because Kurt is so close and Blaine desperately needs to see him when he comes. “Move your hands away, please, baby, I wanna see you. Wanna see what I do to you.”
With a strangled groan, Kurt finally wrenches his hands away from his face - and the sight of him is almost enough to make Blaine right then and there. His face is flushed and sweaty, eyes shining from underneath thick eyelashes. He looks so desperate, as though his whole world is falling to pieces and only Blaine can keep him together.
Kurt’s hands scrabble through the duvet for something to hold on to, and Blaine cannot hold back anymore. He takes Kurt’s cock back into his mouth in a single quick movement, grabbing one of Kurt’s hands from where it’s tangled in the duvet and shoving it onto the back of his own head, desperately needing Kurt to force his head down. Kurt’s cock is hot and perfect in his mouth, so far down his throat that he’s almost choking but Blaine doesn’t care, sucking and swallowing around the pressure of it as though it’s a lifeline as spit runs down his chin and Kurt’s hand clenches hard at the curls at the back of his head.
Close now, so close. Kurt’s whole body tensing and tightening like a bow string, coiled up and ready to release. Blaine manages to look up through eyelashes, wet and clumped from where his eyes have watered, and just manages to see. To catch the moment where Kurt’s mouth falls open and his head tips back, to take in how perfectly undone he looks. An expression of ecstasy passes over Kurt’s beautiful, beautiful face as his hips stutter and still, and Blaine can feel the cock in his mouth twitch and pulse as Kurt comes with a breathy, wordless gasp.
The hand in Blaine’s hair clenches spasmodically as the salty, musky taste spills over Blaine’s tongue. Beneath him, Kurt is shuddering hard; panting as though he’s run a mile as Blaine swallows down messily around his cock.
And Blaine is close, now; so close that he could just reach down and take himself in hand and come in a matter of seconds, he knows it. He lets Kurt’s wet, softening cock fall out of his mouth, pulling back and reaching down between his legs to do just that - when a vice-like grip snag’s around Blaine’s wrist and stops him.
“Wait,” says Kurt breathlessly, reaching over clumsily at the bedside table. When his hand comes back closed around the bottle of lube, a rush of searing heat spreads through Blaine’s body like wildfire.
“Are you sure?” Blaine asks, voice low and thick.
“Want it,” says Kurt stubbornly, squirting a large amount of lube onto Blaine’s fingers and guiding them to his entrance. “Want you to make me feel it. Make me feel it, Blaine.”
The order makes something even hotter jolt up through Blaine’s spin, and he groans as his fingers press against Kurt’s tight entrance. “I won’t last long,” Blaine warns him, pushing a finger right in without any warning. He takes the finger beautifully, the digit sliding in easily without much resistance until Kurt groans and clenches around it.
“That’s fine,” Kurt gasps, mouth hanging open as Blaine’s finger twists and strokes inside of him. He must be oversensitive after coming so recently, but Kurt just grits his teeth and moans as Blaine stretches him out and preps him quickly. Blaine’s cock is achingly hard, jutting out from his body with precome gathered at the tip. It feels as though the slightest touch might send him over the edge.
“I don’t need too much,” says Kurt breathily, and Blaine presses another finger inside.
True to his word, Kurt doesn’t need very much before he’s stretched and ready enough and urging Blaine to give him more. Shaking and fumbling and still so close so close, Blaine slides his fingers out with a wet noise, squeezes more lube over his cock, and hooks Kurt’s legs over his shoulders.
“Come on,” says Kurt, pressing his ass against the hard slickness of Blaine’s cock rubbing against his cheeks, against his hole. Blaine reaches down to line himself up, hands shaking and his body wound tight like a coiled up spring. His cock is hard and desperate to be buried in Kurt’s ass, but everything is slippery and tight and his hands are shaking. “Come on, Blaine, make me feel it. Come on -”
The words turn into a strangled groan and Kurt’s head falls back against the pillows as Blaine’s cock finally lines up and pushes inside, sliding right home in a single hard thrust that makes Blaine see stars. It’s perfect and hot and not quite slick enough around him all at once, squeezing his cock so tight that Blaine lets out a choked shout and has to bury his face in Kurt’s neck order to stop himself from coming right then and there. It’s good, so good, too good; so much at once but Kurt can take it, Blaine doesn’t need to hold back. It takes him a moment to notice the sharp pain along his back from where Kurt’s nails are once again biting into his skin, drawing blood.
“Yes,” Kurt moans, as blood slip-slides down Blaine’s back and pressure and heat roil in Blaine’s stomach like the ocean. His skin is prickly and over-sensitive, so close so close so close already, and it feels as though every tiny movement Kurt makes is almost enough to make him come. Blaine takes a steadying breath, letting it out against Kurt’s neck; Kurt grinds against him, clenching around his cock viciously and making Blaine groan. “Fuck me, Blaine, yes.”
Taking a steadying breath, Blaine tightens up - and does. Pulling out and then snapping his hips forward with enough force to rock Kurt’s whole body back when his cock slams inside, the tight grip of Kurt’s ass squeezing around him as Blaine gives in and fucks Kurt hard into the bed. So tight and not enough prep, and Kurt’s jaw clenches even as he urges Blaine on. Even as he lets out a contented, blissful sigh and lets his head fall back against the pillows, each thrust jolting his body and making his nails bite into the muscle of Blaine’s back.
It’s hot, so hot watching him enjoy a roughness that Blaine has never been the instigator of, but Blaine can barely see. Every thrust makes explosions of white spots swim in front of his eyes, an unstoppable crescendo of feverish pleasure rising higher and higher. He holds back as long as he can, until his fingers and toes are tingling and Kurt’s nails are cutting into his back and heat is shooting up and down his spine, but even then it barely takes any time at all. Blaine was already close from getting Kurt off, and the taste of Kurt’s come is still strong in his mouth as he slams in ruthless-hard, over and over. Too much all at once and everything is building up, pleasure bursting behind Blaine’s eyelids as the tension uncoils and unfurls. He can feel his orgasm rushing up, catching him off guard and blindsiding him with how fast, how good, how sudden it is. Frantically, Blaine grabs Kurt’s hips and pounds into him as he comes - make him feel it, he wants me to make him feel it - mouth open and groaning and loving as over-hot pleasure roars in his ears.
They stay like that for long moments frozen in time, Blaine with his eyes squeezed shut and breathing so hard that it’s all he can hear and gripping at Kurt’s hips as the aftershocks shudder through him. After a while, though, he feels a hand gently pry away at his fingers from where they’re clenched tight on Kurt’s hips. The hand guides him and he moves where it leads, disentangling them from one another. Kurt guides his shaking body until Blaine is lying down, trembling, on his back. Kurt curls up at his side, resting his head against Blaine’s sweaty chest.
“Hey,” says Kurt softly, nuzzling his face against his chest and letting out an overwhelmed little breathof air against Blaine’s prickling skin.
“Hey,” Blaine agrees, letting out a little laugh and reaching up to push sweat-slicked curls out of his eyes. His eyes are drooping fast; it’s been a long, long day. A long life, and he’s ready for rest. But he squeezes Kurt tight; wants Kurt to be the last thing he’s aware of before he goes to sleep.
“I’ve wanted that for a while now,” Kurt admits - almost shyly - and Blaine lets out a shaky laugh and pulls him even closer. He can hear the smile in Kurt’s voice, and it makes his whole body grin and float and soar as the buzz of it slows down into a lovely thrum.
They stay like that for a long time, sticky and slick and messy, curled up around one another as the slow, tempting pull of sleep tugs at Blaine’s eyes. After a few minutes he feels Kurt stand and go into the bathroom, hears the sound of running water. There is the almost imperceptible sound of Kurt’s soft footsteps padding over the floor, followed by the warm touch of a wet washcloth to clean him up between his legs. Blaine sighs happily when Kurt nudges him over to perfunctorily clean the bloody cuts on his back from Kurt’s nails. Everything is relaxed and smooth, no sharp edges anymore. Just a warm, dull prickling sensation as Blaine lingers on the cusp of sleep.
“... you don’t have to stay, you know,” comes Kurt’s voice, almost as though through the haze of a dream. Blaine snuffles and blinks his eyes blearily open, the strangeness of the words pulling him back awake for a few more moments.
Kurt is sitting on the edge of the bed, washcloth in hand. He’s wrapped himself in his blue dressing gown; it almost seems to dwarf him with the excess of fabric after seeing him naked for so long, and Blaine smiles happily at the sight. Kurt looks contemplative; quiet and internalized, his angelic face calm and at peace as he looks down at Blaine already dozing on the bed. He runs a hand along Blaine’s face.
“I... I wouldn’t actually make you stay,” Kurt admits softly, an unreadable expression on his face. “I wouldn’t do that. You could always leave. Go anywhere, do anything... find someone else. You... you could leave.”
If he had the energy for it, Blaine would roll his eyes. Instead, he presses his face into the pillow and closes his eyes again, patting the bed next to him to encourage Kurt to come and lie down already.
“I won’t, though,” says Blaine drowsily, yawning and waving his hand in the air vaguely. “Don’t be silly,” he says, because Kurt really needs to stop being ridiculous and get into bed with him.
Before he drifts off, Blaine hears the soft sound of Kurt’s laughter ring in the air - but by then, he’s practically asleep again. He feels Kurt slide into bed next to him, feels the press of his body against Blaine’s back before the sweet tug of exhaustion pulls him under. He slips away with Kurt’s arms wrapped around him in an embrace.
There is no blood and pain and heat waiting for Blaine once he closes his eyes - and even if there were, those could only be pleasant dreams now.
For the first time in so, so many months, Blaine falls into the warm peace of a dreamless, empty sleep.
Click here to continue to part two.
My sincerest apologies for anyone I've been taking a long time getting back to! I simply haven't been in a very fannish mindset lately, and with that and the busyness of school I don't think I've even read fanfic or been on my tumblr in over a month. :O But not only did I make a commitment to complete this story, I also have way too many ideas set after Blaine's turning to ever get away with not writing it. So thank you very much, I truly appreciate you all, and the final installment of this series will be coming as soon as I can manage it. <3 (Also, for those who are curious, this is my headcanon for Kurt's song in the second part.)
Title: "Until My Dying Breath" -- Chapter Ten
Author: emilianadarling
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Vampire AU with all the unpleasantness that entails. Dubious consent, violence, pain, bloodplay, flippant murder, dissociation from human emotions, blood drinking, sexualized violence, grotesque descriptions, dark setting, fear, minor past character death, intense dark emotions, brief contemplation of suicide in a previous chapter, mugging, murder, kinda-suicide, tremendously unreliable narrator. Warnings on a chapter by chapter basis.
Length: 11,800-ish for this chapter
Story Summary: On his way home from campus to his apartment on the Upper East Side, Blaine Anderson happens to come across a beautiful young man with bewitching blue eyes. It doesn’t take long, though, for everything Blaine thought was real to fall to pieces. For his world to dissolve into a twisted dance of fear and heat and blood.
Notes: Hello, all! This chapter gave me a bit of trouble until I realized that what I had been attempting to make into a single super-long chapter worked much better as a smaller entity. Thank you so much for your patience and for all your incredible feedback, and apologies for the wait! I've had a hard time being motivated by fannish things lately, but this story will be completed. One more installment to go after this -- I can barely believe it! (What will I spend all my time thinking about once this is done, I wonder? <3)
Please do let me know what you think: I honestly cannot wait to hear your impressions, and they truly do mean so much to me. As always, my tumblr is here.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Epilogue
--
They stay like that for long minutes; kissing and clawing and straining at one another in the darkness of the alley, Kurt’s legs wrapped around Blaine’s waist and the flurries of snow falling thicker and thicker like a blanket through the air. Kissing Kurt is like discovering him all over again; the taste of his mouth, the depth of his smell, the perfect way they’ve always fit together that Blaine can only begin to appreciate fully now.
The dead girl’s arm is still dangling over the edge of the garbage bin; it sways ever-so-slightly in the wind in a way that tugs at the corner of Blaine’s vision, but it’s nowhere near enough to distract him from Kurt. Kurt, whose nails are digging into his shoulders and is squeezing him so tight it should hurt; who is sighing and letting out soft little breathy noises into the kisses as he bites down on Blaine’s lip hard enough to draw blood. He lets out a little mewl of pleasure when Blaine pushes him harder against the alley wall; it makes his clothed back scrape against the roughness of the bricks as Blaine mouths over his neck and feels the erotic, slow pulse of blood beneath the skin.
The cold of the air and snow feels like less than nothing, and the warm blood in his stomach fills him with so much warmth Blaine is practically bursting. He feels giddy and powerful, soaring and shining. Everything is different and new and reborn, rising from ashes and brand new eyes, and something wonderful twists in Blaine’s stomach at the hot realization of how much Kurt has done for him. Of how much he held himself back, and waited, and restrained, and thought that Blaine was special.
Kurt isn’t holding back anymore, though. And Blaine doesn’t have to either.
“I could do anything,” Blaine rumbles against Kurt’s mouth, still feeling drunk from the sudden rush of incredible power; it makes him laugh out loud, pressing his forehead against Kurt’s and breathing hard. He digs his nails into the back of Kurt’s neck; hears the sharp hiss of inhaled breath, feels the way Kurt leans into the pleasure-pain of it. It makes something needy coil along his spine and tingle beneath his skin. “I could - no one can ever tell me what to do again, Kurt, god. I could - I could go anywhere, have whatever I want. I could slaughter those kids who bullied me in high school, or - or anything.”
“Yes,” Kurt groans, letting out a long breath of air as though the very idea is intoxicating. His pupils are heavily dilated, the smudges of blood along his mouth gleaming in the low lamplight from the street. “Anything, everything you want. We can have all of it, forever, it never has to end -”
“I want you,” says Blaine, practically growling. “I never stopped wanting you, you were right. You were right about everything, I just couldn’t see it.” He presses a kiss against Kurt’s jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “Thank you,” says Blaine, his voice strangely high and choked and gratitude pounding in his chest like a pulse. He presses more of the little half-kisses against Kurt’s skin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...”
Kurt swallows thickly. “Blaine,” he says, high and strangled and blinking hard, and Blaine cuts him off by pressing their mouths together in a hard, ferocious kiss.
“We should -” Kurt begins, trying to pull away but seemingly unable to resist pressing a kiss against Blaine’s cheek, his brow, the corner of his mouth. “Are you still hungry?” he manages after a moment, seemingly attempting to focus as he twists his fingers in Blaine’s hair and mouths frantically along his jaw line.
“M’fine,” murmurs Blaine, clutching Kurt around the middle and loving the way this feels. How they can do this to each other, now. Bite and tear and tug and not have to hold back, or pretend, or resist. “Just want you, I need you -”
“Home,” says Kurt decisively, biting down hard on Blaine’s lip and arching up against the press of Blaine’s body. He lets out a breathy little noise of satisfaction and anticipation and delight as he slides his tongue along the corner of Blaine’s lips, catching a smear of blood. “Let’s go home.”
“Home,” says Blaine in agreement, leaning his head to catch Kurt’s mouth in a final kiss.
It doesn’t take them long to get themselves organized. Once they break away from one another Kurt slides down from the wall with graceful ease, and Blaine speeds over to the dumpster to shove the girl’s hand over the edge while he still has the presence of mind to do so. It slithers bonelessly into the emptiness inside, and the body’s weight settling on the refuse at the bottom makes a soft little thump sound. It’s easy as that; simple and over and tucked away.
Kurt is quick but meticulous for the clean-up. Handfuls of the more clean-looking snow from the ground are enough to wipe their faces and hands perfunctorily clean of the slicks of bright red blood. There are only a few smears on Kurt’s face from their kisses, but Blaine’s face takes longer to clean. The bottom half of his face is sticky and tacky from the blood that had burst from the girl’s neck when he fed, and the red of it has steeped into his skin and left a pinkish stain that Kurt fusses over. Something impossibly affectionate flares in Blaine’s chest when Kurt pauses, reaches down - and pulls out a packet of moist wipes from his coat pocket. The sight of them makes something between amusement and affection swell in Blaine’s chest.
Kurt swipes one of the wipes over Blaine’s lips and chin, rubbing in deep to remove as much of the stain as possible. When Blaine’s face is as clean as they can get it, Kurt removes his own scarf and wraps it loosely around Blaine’s neck to conceal the stains on his shirt and coat.
Barely-constrained anticipation shuddering anxiously in the space between them, the two of them catch one another’s eyes as Kurt finishes wrapping the delicate fabric around Blaine’s neck. They stay there for a brief moment, unspoken words ringing loud and clear as snow falls around them in the night.
And then they’re turning and going, going, going into the night. Out of the alley and out into the street. Back towards the main road, and the apartment, and the rest of the world.
Back to the home where they can finally have each other for what they are.
--
The journey back is a feverish rush of pounding hearts and soaring exhilaration, and by the time they get to the apartment door Blaine’s vision is practically blurred from the excitement pulsing alongside the hot blood in his stomach. Kurt’s hands shake and fumble with the keys for seconds that feel like centuries until finally the door gives way and they’re pushing inside, already grasping clawing kissing again as the door slams shut behind them. He lets out an audible groan of pleasure at the incredible feel of Kurt’s mouth, so perfect and familiar and his as they stand in the place where Blaine - human Blaine, weak Blaine, pointless Blaine, the Blaine from before - had been kept and held and fucked and taken care of what feels like so very long ago.
The apartment is the same place as before but different, so different, because before it had been Kurt’s place and Kurt’s things and Kurt’s prison for a stupid little nothing who didn’t know any better than to run away from the things it didn’t understand, but now...
Now it’s theirs, everything is theirs, KurtandBlaine KurtandBlaine KurtandBlaine like it was always meant to be long before either of them knew it.
It’s a heady thought, and a heated jolt of sharp arousal clenches at Blaine’s stomach as Kurt grabs his shoulders with delicate-thin hands and pushes so that Blaine’s back collides forcefully against the closed door. The impact is so hard that it almost hurts, but Blaine just tips his head back against the wood and laughs as Kurt kisses his cheek and scrabbles to tug the scarf off Blaine’s neck.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Kurt reprimands him, sending him an extremely unimpressed look at Blaine’s inappropriate laughter, but Blaine can see that there isn’t any real anger in it. Instead, Kurt’s voice is breathy and desperate as he tries to muster himself in chastisement, attempting to scold even as his fingers are imprecise from want. It’s funny, Blaine realizes, sweet understanding breaking over him like a wave. Kurt is funny. He’s a funny person - always has been, except Blaine can only see it now that his vision isn’t skewed and clouded and obscured anymore.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got it,” says Blaine quickly, reassuringly, laughing and out of breath and heartbeat filing his body. He reaches up and strips off the scarf in a single easy movement, then works at getting himself out of the rest of his clothes. Kurt catches on after a moment, reaching down to begin unbuttoning his own coat.
Before long Blaine is naked down to his underwear, jeans and blood-crusted shirt and coat and scarf all discarded in a messy pile of fabric on the floor around them. His cock is hard and aching and straining against the thin material of his boxer-briefs, mind running frantic-fast over all of the things they can do together now that his body is strong and hard, not weak and tired and dizzy and breakable. Kurt doesn’t have to toy with him anymore; doesn’t have to hold back and restrain and tamp down and treat him like a china doll because now he can take it. Can take what is given and give right back, and when Blaine thinks about picking Kurt up like he did in the alley - sliding him up against the living room wall and fucking him against it like Kurt did for him on his first night here - he practically whines in anticipation.
But when he looks up, grinning eagerly and thumbs already hooked into the material of his underwear to push them down over his hips, Blaine is surprised to see that Kurt is still almost fully clothed. Although he is longer wearing the heavy winter coat, the long lines of Kurt’s body are still hidden away by form-fitting black slacks, and his collared shirt only partially undone. There is a pink tinge rising in Kurt’s pale cheeks as he stares down at the floor, and he almost looks uncomfortable as he lingers over the buttons.
“Hey,” says Blaine quietly, the heat of arousal dying down immediately at the sight of Kurt looking so uneasy in front of him. He gently reaches up to cradle the back of Kurt’s head, tilting their foreheads together. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” says Kurt quickly, sounding high and strangled, shaking his head and biting down on his lower lip. “Nothing, it’s just...” Kurt glances down at his own body, squirming almost imperceptibly except for the fact that Blaine can feel so much more now than he did before. There is a perfect, tantalizing triangle of pale chest exposed by the half-undone buttons, and the slightest hint of a tightened rosy nipple exposed to the air. Kurt blinks, licking his lips and leaning into Blaine’s touch. “It’s just... it’s different, now. You seeing me. I’m not... I’ve never been like this before, not with them, not since... but...”
Worry and apprehension twist in Blaine’s stomach like fighting snakes. It hurts to see Kurt like this. Hurts to see him unsure and worried; it’s the worst sight in the world, because Kurt is strong and Kurt is sure and Kurt doesn’t hesitate, and all Blaine wants is to fix this. To wipe that nervous expression on Kurt’s face away; to make him feel better.
At the same time, though, a guilty warmth is growing in the base of Blaine’s stomach. Because it’s so very, very new that Kurt is letting him see this. Lets Blaine see him out of control, and worried, and scared. His mind flashes to Kurt’s face when he woke up on the bed, streaked with tears and frantic and begging for Blaine to be okay, and a ripple of something intimate and close and protective shivers through him.
In front of him, Kurt raises his eyes. He sighs, letting out a sardonic little laugh that sounds more than a little forced. “I... want you to like me. Like the way I look, and what we do together, and how we are together. And... and I’ve never been worried about that before. Not even when you were human, you know? Even though it was you and you’re everything, not even then because I knew I could make you want me, Blaine, I knew it.” He hesitates. “But now... now we’re the same. You’re full and real and you, and I just...” He swallows, closing his eyes and reaching up to wrap his arms around Blaine’s neck. “I want you to like what you see.”
“Kurt,” says Blaine quietly, overwhelmed surprise and sweetness resonating in his chest.
Blaine can see that Kurt is blinking away the wetness gathering at his eyes, and it strikes him that even in the months and months of being followed and hunted and kept, he never really saw Kurt the way that he sees him now. Never saw the vulnerable parts, or the funny parts, or the parts that are so sweetly romantic that it makes Blaine want to sigh and never stop kissing him. Through all they’ve shared together, Blaine never saw how strong Kurt was to keep Blaine alive when killing him would have been so, so much easier.
But he can finally see clearly now.
“Kurt,” Blaine murmurs, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist and barely holding himself back from burying his face in Kurt’s neck and never, never leaving. His voice catches when he speaks again, and he doesn’t even bother to hide it. He takes a deep breath, feeling Kurt’s newly-warm skin against his own. “Kurt... I more than like what I see. So much more than that.”
He can feel Kurt’s arms tightening around his shoulders, hard enough that it would have probably come close to breaking his neck if he was still weak like before. Instead, it just feels warm and safe and close and real.
“You do?” comes Kurt’s voice, so beautiful that Blaine’s heart aches.
“Of course I do,” says Blaine, and almost before he can get the words out Kurt is pressing their mouths together. Squeezing his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and kissing him as though he’s trying to consume the words, imbibe them and make them a part of him and keep them inside forever.
It’s all amplified, somehow. Every nerve buzzing and heightened and something so, so perfect shared between them like a promise. Kurt kisses him like it means something, like it means everything; slow and nearly chaste and the whole world narrowed down to this moment. Blaine holds him close, surrendering himself to this even as Kurt surrenders too, and wonders why he ever tried to run away when he could have had this all along.
When they separate, Kurt’s eyes are closed and his breath catches as he tilts their foreheads together again. He hesitates, and then -
“I love you. Love you, Blaine. Love you so much.”
Hearing that word - that perfect, perfect word that has been so pointedly and meticulously absent all this time, silent and muted through all the talk of caring about you and need you and mine - is like a revelation. It hits Blaine right in the chest, making his heart catch in his throat and his eyes sting as he hears and treasures and savours that amazing word.
He knows beyond a doubt that Kurt cared about him, before. Wanted to turn him, to make Blaine into something powerful and real and right like he was. Kurt knew he was special and pined after the idea of what Blaine had the potential to become. But even through all of that, Kurt didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him.
Inside, Blaine’s emotions are twisted about and different and strange. And since he woke, Blaine has been rolling them over and examining them in the back of his mind, trying to make sense of how very different everything feels. Some things feel amplified, others dialled down and softened so low he can barely remember what they used to feel like. But love...
Love is a word that Kurt held back and kept inside, cherished close and never spoke out loud - not even to lure or cajole him. It rings in his ears and hits him right in the chest, because Kurt loves him. Finally can love him, and it’s the single most glorious and shattering thing Blaine has ever experienced. More terrifying than dying, more exhilarating than his first feed.
As though seeing through fog, Blaine’s mouth softly falls open as all of the different feelings and facts click into place; as everything lines up and makes sense and he realizes that he loves Kurt back.
Blaine loves Kurt; loves him more than everything else put together, more than he has ever loved anything in the whole of his human existence. The rest of the world could burn and crumble and die screaming, and none of it would matter as long as he had Kurt with him.
“I love you, too,” says Blaine, fingers splaying out along the loose material of Kurt’s shirt on his back, and Kurt whimpers at the words. Blaine presses his lips against Kurt’s cheek, his jaw, his neck; savours the bone-deep rightness of Kurt’s smell, how it fills him up and makes him feel complete. “God, I love you, too.”
“Yes,” says Kurt, practically choking the word out, his nails digging into the skin of Blaine’s bare shoulders hard enough to draw blood. Blaine can feel it well up under the sharpness, can feel the hot wet trickle of it begin to slide down his back. It feels good. “Yes, yes, yes -”
Blaine cuts him off with a kiss, and Kurt’s lips are damp and warm and perfect against his. They’re both breathing hard by the time they pull away, Kurt’s eyes so blue and bright and wonderful; shining at him with incomprehensible emotion.
“You took care of me before,” Blaine murmurs against Kurt’s lips. “You’re so beautiful, Kurt. Let me show you how beautiful you are.”
“Okay,” says Kurt, looking at Blaine as though all of his dreams have come true at once. And when Blaine moves away and extends his hand for Kurt to take, Kurt smiles a genuine, perfect, real smile that makes his lips stretch wide and his eyes crinkle around the edges. “Okay.”
Slowly, Blaine leads them into the bedroom with sure steps and his hand nestled perfectly against Kurt’s palm. When they reach the doorway, it’s such a surprise to see the door partly-smashed in and hanging off one of its hinges that Blaine’s footsteps falter; he had almost entirely forgotten about the way he had struggled, before. It’s probably only been a few hours since Blaine had cried and pleaded as he was carried through this doorway, but instead it feels as though a thousand years have passed since then. Sure enough, once they turn into the room Blaine can see the pile of sheets discarded against the wall; crusted thick with dark brown bloodstains, shoved aside by Kurt as he waited for Blaine to wake up.
He grabs the clean duvet off the floor instead, throwing it over the bed and using it to cover the likely still-wet bloodstains on the mattress itself. They’ll deal with the mess later.
For now, they undress Kurt slowly and carefully. Shirt and socks and slacks and underwear all gently peeled away until there’s nothing but Kurt left; pale and forever-young and beautiful, staring back at Blaine with apprehensive anticipation and love in his eyes. He’s more beautiful than Blaine has ever been able to see, every tiny detail of his body standing out to Blaine’s sharp eyes like they never did before; the smoothness of his skin, the incredible strength hiding in his arms. Kurt’s cock is as beautiful as the rest of him, long and smooth and rosy-hard, the pubic hair trimmed meticulously neat. The sight makes Blaine’s mouth water, and when Kurt slides Blaine’s own underwear off of his hips the two of them are finally completely naked.
Gently, Blaine guides Kurt so that he’s lying on his back on top of the duvet. Kurt allows himself be led, staring at Blaine with an expression that makes Blaine’s heart sing. When he’s finally lying down Blaine crawls between his legs, his own cock growing hard again as he stares at Kurt, sprawled out in front of him and quietly gorgeous. The smell of his own dried blood in the air only helps; human and old but alive when he bled, the heavy smell of it wrapped around the two of them like an embrace.
“So beautiful,” says Blaine softly, leaning down to ghost his lips over Kurt’s chest. Kurt sucks in a breath, his hand coming up to tangle in Blaine’s loose curls. My hair must look like a complete disaster, Blaine thinks briefly, absurdly, before he slides his tongue over one of Kurt’s nipples and any thought other than Kurt flies out of his head all at once. Kurt gasps, arching up into his touch as his hand clenches and spasms in Blaine’s hair, and Blaine can’t help himself from smiling as he sucks and worries the skin gently in his mouth. Kurt is sensitive, he realizes, the pleasant surprise tingling in his fingertips; there’s so much he hasn’t discovered about Kurt’s body. So much to learn about what he likes and what he doesn’t like despite all the times they’ve been together, and all he wants to do is know Kurt as well as Kurt knows him.
He slides his mouth down along Kurt’s ribcage, his concave stomach, the sharp jut of his hipbones; kissing and teasing sweetly with his tongue, inhaling deep as he gets closer and closer to Kurt’s cock. And god, the smell of him is so unbelievably erotic; blood pooled beneath the skin, pulsing and straining just for him, and the incredible smell of want rolling off of Kurt’s body in waves. Blaine makes himself hold back and wait; he mouths against the crease of Kurt’s thigh, the soft rippled skin of his balls that tightens as he breathes and kisses around them, the base of Kurt’s cock. Blaine focuses on filtering out the rest of the noise and input from the room and focusing on this. On breathing everything in and learning Kurt; heightened senses noting every gasp, every time Kurt tenses up, every shift of his heart rate.
It’s beyond intimate, beyond close; as though he’s reaching into Kurt’s body and feeling how he feels.
After a few minutes, though, Kurt is already panting and writhing underneath him. Hands twisted up in the loose duvet, Kurt lets out a needy whimper.
“Please,” Kurt moans, visibly restraining himself from grabbing the back of Blaine’s head and forcing him down. His eyes are liquid and desperate, and his whole body is begging for more god Blaine please need it want it please please please please please. Kurt’s hips twitch upwards as he stares wantonly up at him, and Blaine suddenly feels a hundred times more powerful than when he had bitten into that girl’s neck. “Blaine, please, I -”
The rest of the sentence is cut off, however, when Blaine opens his mouth wide and takes Kurt’s cock into his mouth as deep as he can go; wrapping his lips around the hot (gloriously hot, perfect, so perfect) skin and sucking wetly, his eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of it. The weight of Kurt’s cock filling up his mouth, the feel of the blood swollen and hot beneath the skin; the perfect curve of Kurt’s cock edging down into his throat.
“Oh, fuck,” Kurt gasps, both of his hands flying up to cover his face as Blaine slides his mouth around his cock. His voice is high and shaky. “Fuck, Blaine. God, you’re so good. You’re so good, even better like this, god.”
It’s been a long time since Blaine has done this properly. He has only ever made Kurt come with his mouth once during his stay here, and that had been during a blurred moment of confusion between sleeping and waking. Where the world had spun and seemed dream-like and strange, and afterward he had felt so ashamed and humiliated that he had almost been physically ill. Kurt had whispered sweet words and stroked his curls, and Blaine had tasted the salty tang in his mouth and wanted nothing more than to disappear.
This, though. This is so, so much different than that had ever been. Every single bit of the power is Blaine’s, here; the power to give pleasure and the power to hold back. The power to leave Kurt gasping and begging for more.
Blaine doesn’t want to tease, though; he wants to make Kurt feel good, instead. He tightens his lips around Kurt’s cock and slides his mouth up and down in smooth quick movements, holding Kurt’s hips down with his hands when it becomes apparent that Kurt can’t hold himself back from thrusting back. Takes Kurt down so hard and deep he almost chokes before sliding back up and swirling his tongue around the head in turns, sucking and mouthing until Kurt it practically keening. Kurt’s hands are still pressed over his own face, shaking and twisted up and obscuring his features.
“Let me see you,” murmurs Blaine, pulling his mouth away from Kurt’s cock long enough to speak. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re so gorgeous, Kurt, so beautiful when I do this to you - so beautiful always.” Kurt chokes out a little moan in response, but doesn’t move his hands away - as though he can’t, as though he doesn’t have enough control over himself to do anything right now.
“Blaine,” Kurt chokes, the sound finding its way muffled through his fingers. He sounds absolutely wrecked, his beautifully high voice all torn up and ragged. “Blaine.” His heart is thumping so fast in his chest, his body tightening up and straining.
“I can feel you,” says Blaine, leaning in to give the head a long suck, pulling his mouth away with a wet pop. Kurt whines. “Can smell how good you feel, everything, god, you’re so beautiful. You’re perfect, so perfect.” He wraps his lips around the tip again and sucks, lazy and slow, not wanting to do too much because Kurt is so close and Blaine desperately needs to see him when he comes. “Move your hands away, please, baby, I wanna see you. Wanna see what I do to you.”
With a strangled groan, Kurt finally wrenches his hands away from his face - and the sight of him is almost enough to make Blaine right then and there. His face is flushed and sweaty, eyes shining from underneath thick eyelashes. He looks so desperate, as though his whole world is falling to pieces and only Blaine can keep him together.
Kurt’s hands scrabble through the duvet for something to hold on to, and Blaine cannot hold back anymore. He takes Kurt’s cock back into his mouth in a single quick movement, grabbing one of Kurt’s hands from where it’s tangled in the duvet and shoving it onto the back of his own head, desperately needing Kurt to force his head down. Kurt’s cock is hot and perfect in his mouth, so far down his throat that he’s almost choking but Blaine doesn’t care, sucking and swallowing around the pressure of it as though it’s a lifeline as spit runs down his chin and Kurt’s hand clenches hard at the curls at the back of his head.
Close now, so close. Kurt’s whole body tensing and tightening like a bow string, coiled up and ready to release. Blaine manages to look up through eyelashes, wet and clumped from where his eyes have watered, and just manages to see. To catch the moment where Kurt’s mouth falls open and his head tips back, to take in how perfectly undone he looks. An expression of ecstasy passes over Kurt’s beautiful, beautiful face as his hips stutter and still, and Blaine can feel the cock in his mouth twitch and pulse as Kurt comes with a breathy, wordless gasp.
The hand in Blaine’s hair clenches spasmodically as the salty, musky taste spills over Blaine’s tongue. Beneath him, Kurt is shuddering hard; panting as though he’s run a mile as Blaine swallows down messily around his cock.
And Blaine is close, now; so close that he could just reach down and take himself in hand and come in a matter of seconds, he knows it. He lets Kurt’s wet, softening cock fall out of his mouth, pulling back and reaching down between his legs to do just that - when a vice-like grip snag’s around Blaine’s wrist and stops him.
“Wait,” says Kurt breathlessly, reaching over clumsily at the bedside table. When his hand comes back closed around the bottle of lube, a rush of searing heat spreads through Blaine’s body like wildfire.
“Are you sure?” Blaine asks, voice low and thick.
“Want it,” says Kurt stubbornly, squirting a large amount of lube onto Blaine’s fingers and guiding them to his entrance. “Want you to make me feel it. Make me feel it, Blaine.”
The order makes something even hotter jolt up through Blaine’s spin, and he groans as his fingers press against Kurt’s tight entrance. “I won’t last long,” Blaine warns him, pushing a finger right in without any warning. He takes the finger beautifully, the digit sliding in easily without much resistance until Kurt groans and clenches around it.
“That’s fine,” Kurt gasps, mouth hanging open as Blaine’s finger twists and strokes inside of him. He must be oversensitive after coming so recently, but Kurt just grits his teeth and moans as Blaine stretches him out and preps him quickly. Blaine’s cock is achingly hard, jutting out from his body with precome gathered at the tip. It feels as though the slightest touch might send him over the edge.
“I don’t need too much,” says Kurt breathily, and Blaine presses another finger inside.
True to his word, Kurt doesn’t need very much before he’s stretched and ready enough and urging Blaine to give him more. Shaking and fumbling and still so close so close, Blaine slides his fingers out with a wet noise, squeezes more lube over his cock, and hooks Kurt’s legs over his shoulders.
“Come on,” says Kurt, pressing his ass against the hard slickness of Blaine’s cock rubbing against his cheeks, against his hole. Blaine reaches down to line himself up, hands shaking and his body wound tight like a coiled up spring. His cock is hard and desperate to be buried in Kurt’s ass, but everything is slippery and tight and his hands are shaking. “Come on, Blaine, make me feel it. Come on -”
The words turn into a strangled groan and Kurt’s head falls back against the pillows as Blaine’s cock finally lines up and pushes inside, sliding right home in a single hard thrust that makes Blaine see stars. It’s perfect and hot and not quite slick enough around him all at once, squeezing his cock so tight that Blaine lets out a choked shout and has to bury his face in Kurt’s neck order to stop himself from coming right then and there. It’s good, so good, too good; so much at once but Kurt can take it, Blaine doesn’t need to hold back. It takes him a moment to notice the sharp pain along his back from where Kurt’s nails are once again biting into his skin, drawing blood.
“Yes,” Kurt moans, as blood slip-slides down Blaine’s back and pressure and heat roil in Blaine’s stomach like the ocean. His skin is prickly and over-sensitive, so close so close so close already, and it feels as though every tiny movement Kurt makes is almost enough to make him come. Blaine takes a steadying breath, letting it out against Kurt’s neck; Kurt grinds against him, clenching around his cock viciously and making Blaine groan. “Fuck me, Blaine, yes.”
Taking a steadying breath, Blaine tightens up - and does. Pulling out and then snapping his hips forward with enough force to rock Kurt’s whole body back when his cock slams inside, the tight grip of Kurt’s ass squeezing around him as Blaine gives in and fucks Kurt hard into the bed. So tight and not enough prep, and Kurt’s jaw clenches even as he urges Blaine on. Even as he lets out a contented, blissful sigh and lets his head fall back against the pillows, each thrust jolting his body and making his nails bite into the muscle of Blaine’s back.
It’s hot, so hot watching him enjoy a roughness that Blaine has never been the instigator of, but Blaine can barely see. Every thrust makes explosions of white spots swim in front of his eyes, an unstoppable crescendo of feverish pleasure rising higher and higher. He holds back as long as he can, until his fingers and toes are tingling and Kurt’s nails are cutting into his back and heat is shooting up and down his spine, but even then it barely takes any time at all. Blaine was already close from getting Kurt off, and the taste of Kurt’s come is still strong in his mouth as he slams in ruthless-hard, over and over. Too much all at once and everything is building up, pleasure bursting behind Blaine’s eyelids as the tension uncoils and unfurls. He can feel his orgasm rushing up, catching him off guard and blindsiding him with how fast, how good, how sudden it is. Frantically, Blaine grabs Kurt’s hips and pounds into him as he comes - make him feel it, he wants me to make him feel it - mouth open and groaning and loving as over-hot pleasure roars in his ears.
They stay like that for long moments frozen in time, Blaine with his eyes squeezed shut and breathing so hard that it’s all he can hear and gripping at Kurt’s hips as the aftershocks shudder through him. After a while, though, he feels a hand gently pry away at his fingers from where they’re clenched tight on Kurt’s hips. The hand guides him and he moves where it leads, disentangling them from one another. Kurt guides his shaking body until Blaine is lying down, trembling, on his back. Kurt curls up at his side, resting his head against Blaine’s sweaty chest.
“Hey,” says Kurt softly, nuzzling his face against his chest and letting out an overwhelmed little breathof air against Blaine’s prickling skin.
“Hey,” Blaine agrees, letting out a little laugh and reaching up to push sweat-slicked curls out of his eyes. His eyes are drooping fast; it’s been a long, long day. A long life, and he’s ready for rest. But he squeezes Kurt tight; wants Kurt to be the last thing he’s aware of before he goes to sleep.
“I’ve wanted that for a while now,” Kurt admits - almost shyly - and Blaine lets out a shaky laugh and pulls him even closer. He can hear the smile in Kurt’s voice, and it makes his whole body grin and float and soar as the buzz of it slows down into a lovely thrum.
They stay like that for a long time, sticky and slick and messy, curled up around one another as the slow, tempting pull of sleep tugs at Blaine’s eyes. After a few minutes he feels Kurt stand and go into the bathroom, hears the sound of running water. There is the almost imperceptible sound of Kurt’s soft footsteps padding over the floor, followed by the warm touch of a wet washcloth to clean him up between his legs. Blaine sighs happily when Kurt nudges him over to perfunctorily clean the bloody cuts on his back from Kurt’s nails. Everything is relaxed and smooth, no sharp edges anymore. Just a warm, dull prickling sensation as Blaine lingers on the cusp of sleep.
“... you don’t have to stay, you know,” comes Kurt’s voice, almost as though through the haze of a dream. Blaine snuffles and blinks his eyes blearily open, the strangeness of the words pulling him back awake for a few more moments.
Kurt is sitting on the edge of the bed, washcloth in hand. He’s wrapped himself in his blue dressing gown; it almost seems to dwarf him with the excess of fabric after seeing him naked for so long, and Blaine smiles happily at the sight. Kurt looks contemplative; quiet and internalized, his angelic face calm and at peace as he looks down at Blaine already dozing on the bed. He runs a hand along Blaine’s face.
“I... I wouldn’t actually make you stay,” Kurt admits softly, an unreadable expression on his face. “I wouldn’t do that. You could always leave. Go anywhere, do anything... find someone else. You... you could leave.”
If he had the energy for it, Blaine would roll his eyes. Instead, he presses his face into the pillow and closes his eyes again, patting the bed next to him to encourage Kurt to come and lie down already.
“I won’t, though,” says Blaine drowsily, yawning and waving his hand in the air vaguely. “Don’t be silly,” he says, because Kurt really needs to stop being ridiculous and get into bed with him.
Before he drifts off, Blaine hears the soft sound of Kurt’s laughter ring in the air - but by then, he’s practically asleep again. He feels Kurt slide into bed next to him, feels the press of his body against Blaine’s back before the sweet tug of exhaustion pulls him under. He slips away with Kurt’s arms wrapped around him in an embrace.
There is no blood and pain and heat waiting for Blaine once he closes his eyes - and even if there were, those could only be pleasant dreams now.
For the first time in so, so many months, Blaine falls into the warm peace of a dreamless, empty sleep.
Click here to continue to part two.