Fic: Voyeur

Jul 08, 2011 16:28


Rating: NC-17

Pairing/Character(s): Blaine/Kurt; the Warblers

Spoilers: Original Song

Warnings: rough sex, voyeurism

Word Count: 3,760

Summary: the Warblers, in some misguided sense of protection over Blaine’s well-being after Kurt transfers back to McKinley, have a camera installed in Blaine’s room. They witness Kurt’s first visit since he left.

A/N: written as a fill for THIS kink meme prompt.



“Are you sure this was a good idea?”

Wes sends a sharp look over at David and nods. “Of course it was. Have you seen him lately? He’s devastated.”

“I know,” says David as they walk toward Thad’s dorm room. “But to install a camera in his room without his knowledge - it just seems a bit drastic.”

They stop walking as they reach the door to Thad’s room and Wes turns to David, eyes piercing in their intensity. “Would you like to have the knowledge of our lead soloist’s, our best friend’s, downward spiral into despondency on your conscious? Because the way he has been acting since Kurt left is indicating just that.”

“I know,” David says once again, this time with a sigh of resignation. He then indicates the door. “I guess we should see what Thad wanted, then.”

Wes knocks perfunctorily, knuckles playing a sharp staccato on the wood of the door. It takes less than two seconds for the heavy wood to swing open, and when it does Wes and David are faced with Jeff. Behind him, perched on beds and chairs and the tops of desks, are the rest of the Warblers.

Wes moves into the room as Jeff moves aside for him and looks for Thad, who is sitting in front of his TV-sized computer screen. “What is this all about, Thad?”

Thad nods at the two open chairs beside him, reserved for Wes and David’s arrival, and only starts speaking when they are seated and Jeff has closed and locked the door behind them.

“Kurt is here,” Thad begins, “for the first time since he transferred. According to Nick he and Blaine have retired to Blaine’s room.”

David looks around at all of the Warblers sceptically and says, “And you decided we needed a group meeting because -?”

Thad sits up a little straighter in his chair and clicks on the mouse of his computer decisively. “Because, David, we are worried about what this visit’s affect will be on Blaine.”

David, still sceptical but not willing to fight the other two counsel heads, merely says, “Ah.”

“We decided that it would be pertinent to observe the meeting and, if need be, offer a means of distraction in the case of negative interaction.” Thad’s eyes nearly glow with his conviction.

Before David can even think to voice an objection, or try to think of some way of reasoning with the rest of the council, Thad has clicked on an application on his browser and an image fills the screen. David hears the voice before he understands what he is seeing.

“You left me.” Blaine’s voice is pained, but there is something else, something low and rough, that digs its way into the skin of the Warblers as they hear it.

“I know - and you know I’m sorry - but I had to, Blaine.” Kurt’s voice is higher than normal and there is a breathless quality to it. Half of the room of voyeurs squirm a little in their seats as Kurt ends by practically moaning out Blaine’s name.

David’s mouth drops open in shock when his brain finally registers the image before him.

Blaine is standing with his back to the camera, blazer, shirt and tie missing, exposing his bare back to the crowd. The tan skin is smooth and the muscles, the lines and ripples, are deepened and highlighted by the hazy light streaming from the window over his bed.

Maybe the most shocking thing about the image, more than the semi-nakedness of the lead soloist, is the presence of Kurt on his bed. The taller boy is laid out on his back, all long lines and lithe musculature, creamy skin contrasting with the dark navy of the comforter below him, and he is completely naked. His chest is shuddering with slow but shaking breathes and his hands are raised above his head, wrists twined together and fingers clenching at a pillow.

The Dalton tie, Blaine’s tie, is wrapped in a tight knot around Kurt’s wrists, the dark colours of it showing off the delicate lines of the countertenor’s arms, the paleness of his skin. It provides a fitting complement to the line of dark red bruises trailing from the underneath of his jaw to the top of his hips.

There is a clink, the sound of slithering, and suddenly Blaine is dropping his belt on the bed beside Kurt, the movement of his arms and back muscles more than telling as his pants drop to the floor. He steps out of the slacks and moves to stand at the edge of the bed, just looking down at Kurt with his neck bent forward.

“I miss you.”

“Holy shit.”

David can hear gasps and shifting all around him, but his eyes are glued to the screen as though in some sort of thrall. “We should turn it off,” he says, watching Blaine strip his boxers away. “We shouldn’t be seeing this.”

A gasp sounds through the speakers of the screen and is echoed around the room as Blaine reaches down and grabs Kurt’s legs, dragging the other boy across the bed in one rough movement.  Kurt’s knees end up bracketing Blaine’s hips, their lower bodies close, and Blaine leans forward, trailing a hand up the side of Kurt’s neck to bury his fist in soft brown locks.

David’s scalp twinges in sympathy as Kurt’s head is jerked back and his throat is exposed, long and pale and marked. The thin boy’s chest heaves, his pink little nipples dancing with the movement, and Blaine leans in close.

“Please,” Kurt groans, arching up into Blaine’s body.

“You’re going to feel this for days. Every time you move you’re going to remember this, remember me.”

The hand Blaine has twined in Kurt’s hair tugs harshly and David is amazed by the camera’s ability to pick up the rush of goosebumps that scatter over Kurt’s body, the hint of tears in his eyes. It also allows them to see the flush of red that rises on Kurt’s chest, painting him a glorious shade of pink.

“Guys,” Jeff says somewhere from the back of the room. “Turn it off.”

“No,” says Trent urgently. “We can’t! What if - what if Kurt didn’t agree to this? What if -”

“That’s absurd,” Thad cuts in. “Blaine would never do that.”

David finds the power to pull his eyes from the screen and he takes in Thad’s profile. His blind conviction, the angry, interested, jealous gaze at Kurt is enough to tell him that there is something under Thad’s actions. Something that David has never noticed before.

The sound of the bed squeaking harshly pulls David back to the screen and he is just in time to watch Blaine wrap his free hand around both of Kurt’s wrists, over the material of the tie, and lean down to kiss Kurt’s plump lips. It is more of a devouring than a kiss, he thinks, as Blaine’s lips and teeth work at Kurt’s mouth, leaving swollen and spit-slicked skin in his wake.

Kurt, rather than protesting or laying passively, is squirming beneath Blaine, breathy moans catching in his throat as he tries to kiss back. Blaine is in complete control, but Kurt is participating as best he can.

“That’s so hot,” some one says from the back, and if David were in a better state of mind he might have been able to figure out who is was. Or stop himself from inclining his head in agreement.

Blaine is starting to move from Kurt’s lips and to his neck, teeth leaving imprints in the beautiful skin, and Kurt’s flush face is visible over the back of his head. “Please,” Kurt begs, “I want - I want.”

“What do you want?” Blaine whispers, holding tighter to Kurt’s wrists and pressing the boy into the bed. “Tell me - what do you want?” he repeats.

“You,” Kurt gasps out and hooks his legs behind Blaine’s back.  The position, how hard Blaine is holding Kurt down, leaves Kurt’s back arched off of the bed and his fingers grasping at air. “I want you.”

Blaine is still for a moment, his face hidden by the camera’s angle, and then he is moving.  He pulls his hands away from where they had been holding to Kurt and grabs the other boy’s hips tightly, using his strong musculature to flip Kurt over.

Surprise flickers over Kurt’s face as he abruptly finds himself on his front, back and sculpted ass on display, before he bends his elbows and rests the top of his head on his bound hands.

Blaine is quick to lift Kurt’s hips, slapping one hand down hard on a perfectly round ass cheek so that Kurt will tuck his knees under his body, and then presses himself flush against Kurt’s back.

Kurt moans loudly as Blaine sinks his teeth into his shoulder and undulates his hips, rubbing his cock between Kurt’s cheeks. From this new position, with both of the boys lengthwise on the bed, the room of Warblers are provided a full view of them. Of how Blaine rocks into Kurt, his cock’s head peaking up through the top of Kurt’s crack, of Kurt’s matching erection standing from between his legs, long and flushed.

“Like this?” Blaine breathes into Kurt’s ear as he grips Kurt’s hips and grinds against him.

Kurt gasps and shudders, hips jerking back to try and get more friction. “Yes - anything. Blaine.”

Blaine’s face stretches into a grin and he pulls back just enough to slip a hand between their bodies, rubbing his fingers over and around Kurt’s entrance. Kurt whines and bows his back toward the bed, pressing his ass toward Blaine in a blatant show of wantonness.

“I want to be in here,” Blaine growls, circling Kurt’s hole with one finger. With his other hand he reaches forward and traces Kurt’s bottom lip. “Suck,” he commands.

Kurt’s lips twist into a smirk, caught by the camera and by the watching Warblers, but not by Blaine, as he darts his tongue out and sucks Blaine’s ring, middle and pointer fingers into his mouth.  The girth of the digits stretches his lips, and he laves them extravagantly, leaving wet trails with his tongue around and between every crevasse.

Eyes wide and hand trailing to caress Kurt’s perineum and balls, Blaine is obviously caught by the feel of Kurt’s mouth on him, in the enthusiastic movements of Kurt’s mouth. David himself is captivated it.

“Enough,” Blaine says after a minute, taking his hand away. It leaves Kurt’s lips even plumper and red and slick with his spit.

Blaine slaps his left hand down hard on Kurt’s ass, petting the spot briefly afterward, and then matches his fingers to the welt rising on the pale skin and pulls the cheek outward, holding Kurt open for his perusal. He puts one spit-slick fingertip to the small pink opening, swirls it around to spread the liquid, then blows a stream of air over it.

Kurt groans and twitches in place, the muscles of his ass clenching at the cool sensation. Blaine takes the opportunity to press inward with his pointer finger, squeezing Kurt’s ass with his other hand.

Kurt groans out a little “Ah,” as he is breached and his face lights up with a deep flush, eyes squeezing tightly shut.

“You are so tight,” Blaine says, pressing in to the first knuckle and wriggling his finger. “You’re always so hot and tight.” He pulls his finger back and then lines up his middle finger alongside his pointer and pushes back in with hard rocking motions.

At the additional finger Kurt squirms and then holds still, his whole body nearly shaking with tension.

Blaine notices this and brings his hand down on Kurt’s ass again, the movement exposing the deepening red mark already present on Kurt’s skin to the Warblers, and says, “Relax.”

Nodding almost frantically, Kurt pulls in a couple deep breathes and lets them out slowly.  The effect is almost immediate as Blaine’s fingers sink deeper into Kurt’s body, their lengths swallowed to the second knuckle in seconds.

Blaine doesn’t give Kurt time to adjust as he starts pumping his fingers in and out, scissoring and twirling them within Kurt with precise movements. After only maybe fifteen such strokes he adds his third slicked finger to the fray, pressing until they sink almost all of the way inside.

“Think you’re ready?” Blaine asks, hand and wrist working at Kurt’s body.

Kurt props his torso higher, balancing on his bound wrists, and nods. “Yes. Please.”

Leaving his fingers to stroke in and out of Kurt a few more times, Blaine lets go of Kurt’s ass cheek and reaches down to grab the other boy’s rigid erection. He runs a tantalizing touch up and down the length, following the most prominent veins, and circles the flared head with his thumb.

Kurt moans, trapped between two delicious stimuli, and clenches his fingers into the bedding, knuckles going white from the intensity of his grasp.

Blaine pulls away from Kurt fully and wipes his hand on the bedding before reaching to his left and pulling two objects from a fold in the comforter. A small tube of lube and a condom.

David, feeling vaguely dirty and guilty for watching, can’t seem to stop. No matter how far this goes. Based on their non-reaction - in protest, that is - it seems that the rest of the Warblers are in a similar position.

Blaine wastes no time ripping open the condom and throwing the wrapper to the floor, rolling the rubber on to his achingly hard erection with deft hands.  He then flips open the top of the lube with a practiced jerk of his fingers, drizzling a slick line over his cock, spreading it with quick strokes of his hand.

The lube is discarded and Blaine focuses his attention back to Kurt, eyes roving over the trembling form of him; the long, lean lines of his back and the prettily gaping entrance to his body, red and twitching.

Reaching forward, Blaine splays one hand over Kurt’s lower back, stroking over the dips on either side of his lower spine and digging into the soft flesh. With the other hand he grabs his own erection by its base and leans forward until just the tip is resting between Kurt’s cheeks.

Kurt mumbles something, words muffled and distorted as they echo throughout Thad’s dorm room, and David leans forward, face close enough that he can nearly see each individual pixel of the screen.

“What was that?” Blaine asks, stealing the words from the room full of Warblers’ mouths.

Turning his face away from the cradle of his bound hands, Kurt locks eyes with Blaine over his shoulder. “Fuck me.”

Lips turned with a hint of a smile, Blaine brings his left hand down on Kurt’s ass again, this time hard enough that the resulting ‘smack’ echoes in the room and Kurt groans, body twitching. Blaine is quick to pull Kurt back toward him with a hand hooked over his hip and lines himself with Kurt’s entrance once again.

David will never forget the way Blaine teases Kurt’s hole by rubbing the tip of his cock over it, barely putting any pressure forward, just slipping the head of his cock forward to stretch Kurt open, and then pulling away. Kurt’s groans and his seemingly uncontrollable backward movements as he follows Blaine, trying to press himself back onto Blaine’s cock, burn into David’s eyelids.

It’s with a symphony of shallow gasps and groans that the Warblers watch Blaine line himself up one final time and thrust forward, burying his cock inside of Kurt in one fast, slamming thrust.

Kurt is panting, little high whines catching in his throat, as Blaine bottoms out in him, the dark-haired boy’s balls pressed tight against him again and again as Blaine sets a punishing pace.

Kurt and Blaine’s hands are both clutching; Blaine’s around the prominent points of Kurt’s hips as he pulls Kurt toward him as he strokes in and out, literally dragging the paler boy across the material of the comforter with every jerk of his hips. Kurt’s fingers, the entirety of his arms, are struggling against their bindings, the tendons and muscles of his forearms and triceps standing out starkly, as he tries to keep himself balanced and upright against the constant motions of Blaine.

Kurt’s struggles are soon put to an end as Blaine digs his toes into the bedding, the muscles of his calves and thighs bunching with exertion, and starts plunging forward with even more force, knocking Kurt forward to brace himself on his elbows.

Blaine follows Kurt down, chest resting against Kurt’s back and one arm sliding up under Kurt’s chest to hook on his opposite shoulder.  Blaine holds Kurt steady, presses his weight into Kurt, and uses his whole body to get closer, deeper.

The angle of the camera shows every stroke of Blaine’s cock into Kurt, shows the cherry-red and slick opening to Kurt’s body as it stretches around Blaine, shows Kurt’s own cock erect and bouncing with each thrust of Blaine’s hips.

“Am I enough for you now, Kurt?” Blaine gasps out between thrusts, head tipped forward and sweat-dampened hair trailing over Kurt’s shoulders. “Am I?” he asks again with a particularly hard push.

Kurt, with beads of sweat running down the sides of his face, answers, “Always.” He gasps, rutting backward. “Always have been.”

Somewhere to David’s right there is the shifting of material, a sliding motion that tells David that someone has moved to cross their legs. David will never be more grateful for having a front-row seat.

“God Kurt,” Blaine says, “I love your ass.”

Blaine pulls his knees in to rest on the inside of Kurt’s, spreading the milky thighs wide as he changes angles.

“There,” Kurt exclaims. “Right there. Harder. Please.”

Blaine’s tongue pokes out to worry at the corner of his lips as he works to keep hitting the same spot, the sweat of his chest and Kurt’s back providing an extra source of ease for his increasingly fast pace.

The muscles of Blaine’s flanks start to tremble from his effort and he is starting to lose the steady rhythm he has maintained. With one last thrust he stills, straightening up and pulling his arm from its grip around Kurt’s chest. “Up.”

“Why - why did you -?”

“Up,” Blaine commands, smacking his hand down on Kurt left buttock yet again. The fiery red colour of it tells of heat and impending bruising.

Kurt struggles to lift his torso from its declined position, pressing his hands into the bed and rising only to half-mast before Blaine grabs him around the chest and pulls him back to press tight against his chest.

“Like this.”

Nodding, Kurt brings his bound wrists up so that he can grasp one of Blaine’s hands, covering his chest with their arms.

Blaine starts to move again, pressing up into Kurt’s heat and tightness sharply.

“Ah ha,” Kurt gasps out. “Blaine - Blaine I’m -”

“Do it,” Blaine says against his neck, mouthing at Kurt’s jaw line and earlobe. “Come for me.”

Chest hitching with little sobs of pleasure and hands clutching at Blaine’s, Kurt’s mouth drops open and his eyes squeeze shut.  His cock, long and gorgeous, stands out proudly from between his thighs, nestled in a patch of brunette curls, and twitches.  Come starts spurting from it in thick lines and dribbles, catching on his stomach and dripping down his thighs, painting the blue of the comforter below.

As Kurt comes his whole body seizes up, legs trembling and toes curling, and Blaine presses into him in rough and shallow thrusts, filling him as full as he can, keeping pressure on his prostrate throughout his entire orgasm.

As Kurt starts to come down from his orgasm, muscles slowly relaxing and breath trembling from his lips, Blaine keeps up his driving force. Kurt jerks as his sensitive body is continuously plundered, head tilting back to rest on Blaine’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Blaine pants roughly, mouth moving against Kurt’s cheek.

“I know,” Kurt murmurs, turning his head so that he can engage Blaine in a sloppy kiss. “I love you too.”

Blaine’s rhythm hitches, his hips shuddering into Kurt desperately as the veins of his neck stand out and his chest and back blushes. He doesn’t move his mouth from pressing against Kurt’s, kissing the other boy through his orgasm as he fills his condom deep within Kurt’s body.

As Blaine comes to a stop, pressed flush against Kurt’s back, his hands let go from their tight hold on Kurt, moving up and down the pale chest in little petting motions.  His fingers eventually move to fumble at the Dalton tie around Kurt’s wrists, unknotting the material to reveal red welts around Kurt’s thin wrists.

Kurt flexes his hands and twirls his wrists, getting used to the new freedom, and then reaches back, hands smoothing over any of Blaine’s skin that he can reach.

Their kiss has turned from frantic and passionate to slow and familiar; lips moving together and hands touching anywhere they can reach as though each is afraid the other will disappear.

From the back of the room Jeff says, “Turn it off.”

Thad, eyes wide and cheeks pale, nods absently and exits out of the screen.

David is the first to stand, and he turns so that he can address the entire room. “No one speaks a word of this. Ever.”

The blank screen screaming back at each and every Warbler, the room slowly empties until only Thad is left to stare into its empty depths.

~

The next day the Warblers meet at their normal time, and when Blaine walks into the room they are abnormally silent.

Blaine, a bounce in his step, walks through the doors and takes a jaunty seat next to Nick, smiling and nodding at the boy even though he makes no eye contact.

“Hello,” he greets Jeff. Jeff gives a little wave and a smile with no force behind it, and then stares down at his hands, feet fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Well,” says Wes eventually, when the awkward silence goes on for a moment, “let’s start, shall we?”

If none of the other Warblers will meet Blaine’s eyes or initiate any conversations on their own, Blaine doesn’t notice. There seems to be a perpetual smile on his face and a gleam to his eyes that assures all of the other boys that he will be just fine.

blaine_anderson, nc17, warblers, smut, kurt_hummel, klaine

Previous post Next post
Up