Fic: Glee: The Man Behind the Curtain (Kurt/Blaine, NC-17)
Aaah, I finally got to write a fic for 5x07 after a busy, busy long weekend of family, visitors, and childcare. Blaine is fascinating. I love him so much.
It’s, um... well, I tried to be true to the episode, as always. I quite enjoyed myself. :D
Thanks to stoney321 for reading for me and laughing in the right places.
Title: “The Man Behind the Curtain" [on the AO3]
Author: flaming muse
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3700
Summary: Blaine spends a much-needed evening alone with Kurt.
Spoilers: set near the end of 5x07 (“Puppet Master”), before Blaine and Tina's scene in the auditorium, with no spoilers beyond
Warning: brief mention of Finn
Disclaimers: The characters belong to various corporate Powers That Be. I make absolutely no profit from playing with them.
Distribution: Please ask.
Feedback is lovely!
“ - and then on the way home ‘The Final Countdown’ came up on my iPod, and as I was singing along I was thinking that might be a really great song to get us pumped up for Nationals or maybe as one of our competition pieces,” Blaine continues as Kurt’s fingers stroke through his hair in a slow, soothing caress. Looking up at the ceiling, he wiggles his bare toes against the covers of his bed with satisfaction, both at the idea and at the touch. “Although I’m worried that might be too Pitch Perfect for a show choir championship.”
“Mmm, or Arrested Development,” Kurt says from the pillow beside him. “You don’t want the judges all picturing you doing terrible magic tricks. And thank you, by the way, for making me watch that show. You were right; I do love Lindsay.”
“You’re welcome,” Blaine says even as his heart falls. He can hear the harmonies for that song in his head, he can see how Glee Club would all move together, he can feel just how amazing it all would be, music coming to life all around him... but he doesn’t want to be a joke. This is serious. Glee Club is serious. Nationals are very serious. They need to pick the right songs, even to rally their enthusiasm for the competition. There’s so much pressure to get it right, especially without Finn there to help guide them to a second win. No, Blaine can’t let them be a joke. “And you’re right. I’ll have to find something else for us to sing.”
“There are always a dozen reasons not to perform a song, Blaine,” Kurt tells him gently. “They all have associations and histories. You can’t let it stop you. Just go with your gut. Listen to your heart. You have an excellent heart.”
Blaine nods slowly as he turns over Kurt’s words in his head. His gut, his heart, yes. That makes sense. He just knows things sometimes, just like he knew about Kurt and how they were destined to be together. He has good instincts, and he has experience in this area, too. He should listen to what he knows.
It’s only when he questions himself that he gets in trouble. It’s only when others question him that they get in trouble.
“You’re absolutely right,” he says, closing his eyes with a pleased sigh. He will listen to himself, and if everyone else is smart they’ll listen, too. “It would be a good lead for Artie. It would really suit his voice.”
Kurt touches Blaine teasingly on the tip of his nose. “It would suit your voice, too,” he says with such obvious adoration that it makes Blaine’s heart leap.
“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine laughs at him, because it’s true, but that’s just too much, “I can’t take all of the solos. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“But you’re the best performer in Glee Club,” Kurt insists. “You know it’s true. We all know it.”
Blaine can feel the praise rush through him all the way to his toes, and his smile grows even larger. “A good leader doesn’t take all of the glory for himself. I need to spread the leads around, especially for the other Seniors.”
“You’re right,” Kurt says, going back to stroking his hair. “Of course you’re right. It’s so kind of you to think of everyone else. Just as long as you take the best lead for yourself.”
“You don’t think that’s greedy?” Blaine asks.
“Not at all,” Kurt replies. “You deserve to be front and center.”
Blaine nods, because he does. He has experience and talent, and this is his last competition. He does deserve that. He’s glad Kurt understands.
He rolls his head on the pillow and sighs a little. “I’m sorry. I’ve been talking for a long time. We should talk about your day.”
Kurt pets Blaine’s cheek with his soft fingers and says, “No, please, I want to hear more about your song choices. We can talk about me later.”
Blaine turns his face to look over into the puppet’s blue eyes, smiles again, and says, “Well, if you insist...”
*
“I think we should get married at Disney World,” Blaine says to Kurt as they walk down his stairs to heat up some dinner. “By Cinderella’s castle.”
“Really?” Kurt says.
“Yeah. I was looking at pictures online last weekend. It’s amazingly pretty, and I could ride in on a white horse, dressed like Prince Charming.” He can’t remember if Prince Charming has a sword, but he definitely needs a sword. Not that he thinks that anybody’s going to try to stop the wedding or steal Kurt away from him, but a prince should always be prepared. Besides, it would look great at his hip.
“That sounds very dashing and romantic,” Kurt says, holding his hand to his chest and sounding a little breathless.
“You could be one of the princes, too,” Blaine tells him. “Maybe the one from Snow White. You’d look so handsome in his costume.” His shoulders would look amazing. So would his waist. And his legs. And his, well, everything, because Kurt is so gorgeous, and so is that costume.
“Do I have to ride a horse?”
“No,” Blaine says, because he can picture Kurt standing there waiting for him at the front, so stunning and awed by the moment. He’d look absolutely flawless framed by the fairy tale castle behind him while Blaine rides in and leaps gracefully off of his horse, striding down the aisle toward him and their perfect happily ever after. That doesn’t work at all if Kurt’s also riding in. “Just me.”
“Okay,” Kurt says, as easily as that.
“I know you have your heart set on somewhere in New York City, but even though gay marriage isn’t legal in Florida yet it looks...”
“Blaine, I don’t care where we get married,” the Kurt puppet says and leans his head against Blaine’s cheek. “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy. Let’s do what you want. Especially if there are costumes involved.”
Going warm with joy, Blaine beams at him and kisses his ringed, felt hand.
Disney World is going to be perfect. He’s going to be the happiest man on Earth, and he should get married at the happiest place on Earth. It will be beautiful. It will be romantic. It will be easy, because Disney has wedding planners and a huge staff to do everything for them. They can just go and have the best week of their lives there.
As he turns the corner into the kitchen with a spring in his step, he wonders if he can get the whole wedding party to go on Space Mountain in their fancy clothes. That would be fun and make for excellent pictures.
*
Bouncing his feet against the legs of his desk in time with the music playing in his room, Blaine flips to the next page in his English reading. He’s almost done with the chapter, and then his homework will be finished for the night.
It would probably go faster if he didn’t have music on, but he loves music. He loves having it around him. He loves how it makes his body feel alive and his heart feel full. He loves how it pushes everything else out of his head, makes everything feel simple, makes everything make sense in notes and measures and easily parsed harmonies.
Besides, this song is really good.
“ - niiiiight,” Blaine sings as the song draws to an end, feeling the honeyed burn of the last note in his lungs as he holds it just a bit too long.
“I love your voice,” Kurt tells him dreamily.
Ducking his head over his book, Blaine laughs as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed flush; he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t alone.
Kurt sighs out softly, like he’s nearly overcome. “You have no idea what it does to me when you sing.”
Blaine’s always loved how Kurt’s appreciated his singing, from the very first day they met. He looked starstruck then, and he’s grown to look proud and appreciative over the years. Blaine feels much the same way about him. It’s part of why they’re so perfect together.
“I love your voice, too. Sing the next one with me?” he offers. He loves singing songs solo, but for Kurt he can always make it a duet.
“No, thank you,” is Kurt’s surprising reply.
“Are you sure?” Blaine swings around in his chair to look at him. It isn’t like Kurt to give up an opportunity to sing, especially with him.
Perched on Blaine’s bed with his chin resting in his hand and his eyes on Blaine, the Kurt puppet says with a happiness that goes right to Blaine’s heart, “No, not today. I’d rather just listen to you. Is that okay?”
“That’s always okay,” Blaine assures him - because as much as he loves singing with Kurt he loves singing to him more - and immediately reaches for his iPod. “Any requests?”
*
Blaine pushes away from his desk and folds his arms behind his head as he leans back in his chair. He stretches his back and feels the pull of the movement in his chest and stomach. He flexes his feet, cracks his neck, and lets the tension from sitting for so long drain out of him. Homework is important, because he needs his grades to be good so he can do whatever he wants in the future, but he’s always glad when it’s finished. It’s hard to want to focus on The Grapes of Wrath when he feels like all he’s really doing is killing time until he can go to New York.
“What now?” Kurt asks from his spot on the bed. “It’s still early.”
It’s too early to Skype, too early to sleep. “We could watch some TV. I’ve been in the mood for The Muppet Show today for some reason.” Blaine’s stomach rumbles. “And maybe a snack?”
“Ooh, ice cream?” Kurt suggests with delight as Blaine pulls him into his arms. “You know how I love sweets.”
Blaine’s mouth waters at the thought, since he knows for a fact there are a couple of unopened pints in the freezer, but he sighs and shakes his head. “That sounds delicious, but I don’t have your metabolism. I shouldn’t.” Now that Coach Sue is the principal, she’s not teaching the Sue 90X class he took, and as much as he isn’t missing the personal attacks on his physique and orientation that came with the workout Blaine hasn’t found a replacement class that pushes him as hard.
“What does your metabolism have to do with anything?” Kurt asks.
“Well, when I was in New York, Santana made some pretty pointed comments about my - “
“Screw Santana,” Kurt says sharply, shocking Blaine into silence. “You’re gorgeous.”
Blaine knows he hasn’t put on any weight, but she’d been so -
“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt tells him. He reaches out to touch Blaine’s stomach in a gentle caress. “It doesn’t matter how you look, if you gain weight or lose your hair or stop using that bronzer I bought you. You’ll always be perfect to me.”
Blaine smiles at him, feeling his heart melt a little more with love and relief. He always wants Kurt to think he’s perfect. “Really, Kurt?”
“Really,” the Kurt puppet says. “Have the ice cream. Have two scoops.”
Throwing open his bedroom door, Blaine hurries toward the kitchen. “If you insist!”
*
“I know it’s Real Housewives night, but I think we should watch Lord of the Rings next,” Blaine says as Gonzo fires himself out of a cannon on the screen.
“That sounds wonderful,” the Kurt puppet replies where he’s holding Blaine’s bowl, his voice a little thick around Blaine’s mouthful of Rocky Road.
*
“Hmm,” Blaine says to himself as he flips through the shirts in his closet to try to decide what to wear the next day. A plain shirt or one with a pattern? Plaid or stripes? Is it going to be a sweater vest kind of day? Open collar or bow tie? Suspenders again, or is it too soon?
He’s always thought it was important to dress well. People look up to him. It’s a lot of pressure to look the part of the leader of Glee Club, leader of the school. And he’s engaged now. He’s an adult. He’s so close to graduating. He’s a role model. He needs to look like one.
Blaine pulls out a deep red shirt and frowns at it for a moment before putting it back. He can hear Kurt’s comment about wearing bold primary colors ringing in his ears.
“You have the best taste,” Kurt tells him from across the room.
“That’s not what you said when I was in New York,” Blaine replies over his shoulder.
“I was just helping you put your best foot forward for your audition,” Kurt says. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like your clothes.”
Blaine considers a black-and-white-striped shirt and wonders if it’s too subdued. He doesn’t want to look plain. He doesn’t want to look boring. He needs to catch people’s eyes as he walks down the hall. He needs to command their attention when he stands in front of them in the choir room. He can’t do that if he’s wearing something drab.
On the other hand, the Glee Club isn’t listening to him, and maybe he should keep wearing paler colors so that he can blend more into the background so that they really miss him.
“I’ve always liked that shirt,” Kurt says. “Horizontal stripes make you look taller.”
“I never knew that,” Blaine says and pulls out the shirt from his closet. He nods with approval; he likes this shirt a lot, too. “I thought horizontal ones made you look wider.”
“Not on you.”
Blaine makes a soft, thoughtful noise and walks to his dresser to pick out a pair of pants to go with that shirt. He holds up his favorite pair of red slacks. Are they too bright for the point he’s trying to make? He digs in his drawer for something else, something right.
“You dress better than any man I’ve ever seen in New York, Blaine,” Kurt tells him warmly. “And you know I’ve met Tom Ford and Tim Gunn.”
Blaine laughs and shakes his head, his stomach fluttering from the comparison. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Kurt.”
“Everywhere?” the Kurt puppet asks with a bit of flirtation in his voice.
*
Blaine spreads his legs a little more, working his lube-slick hand faster up and down his erection. He’s so hard his whole body feels tight with it. His breath is rough in his throat. His bare chest is damp with sweat. His eyes are squeezed shut, images of Kurt above him flashing through his mind: Kurt moaning his name while kissing his throat, Kurt pushing his legs up with impatient hands, Kurt fucking him open with sharp, perfect thrusts.
Groaning through his clenched teeth, Blaine fists his cock with one hand and uses the other to roll his balls, the extra sensation shooting right through him, heating his belly, making his toes curl, making his scalp tingle. The lube is going tacky, but that’s good, too, that extra burn of friction for a minute or two until it shifts from intense to uncomfortable.
He lets go with a gasp and squeezes another dollop of lube onto his fingers, ignoring the lewd, wet squelch as he goes back to working himself and focusing instead on the pleasure of the easy glide and tight pressure just where he wants it. Well, not quite where he wants it, and he rolls his head back as he thinks about how it feels when Kurt licks him open and presses in deep, so deep, stretching him wide, and tries not to feel how much he wishes he were, how much he wishes Kurt were there to touch him for real, even just with his hands, instead of only in his memories.
God, it’s so much better when Kurt is there.
“I could be doing that for you,” Kurt says from his seat in the chair next to the bed.
“What?” Blaine’s eyes fly open to gape at Kurt. At the puppet.
“I could be giving you that hand job,” Kurt says. Blaine could swear his eyebrows twitch with promise. “Or more.”
Blaine swallows at the thought, his hips hitching upwards. “No.” Definitely not. That’s crossing a line. Even if Kurt’s so soft, so nice to touch, so happy to go wherever Blaine puts him... No.
But Blaine still can’t look away from him where Kurt watches Blaine stroking himself, watches Blaine’s hand move faster, watches Blaine’s hips fuck up into the touch, lifting off of the bed with each stroke.
The rhythm feels so good, the pressure of his fingers, the slippery, warm slide of lube dripping down between his legs, and he just needs a little more. He imagines it’s Kurt’s mouth, Kurt’s saliva instead of lube, Kurt’s tongue and lips on him, Kurt taking him deep, Kurt moaning around him, Kurt letting Blaine curl his fingers in Kurt’s hair, hold him in place, and thrust up into his mouth at just the right angle, Kurt so hot from blowing him he has to jerk himself off while he’s sucking Blaine down, coming even before Blaine does.
Blaine’s toes dig into the bed, and he moans with each twist he gives the head of his cock. Kurt watches from his chair, unblinking, rapt, his mouth open just a bit...
So close, Blaine just needs a little more -
“You know, I don’t have a gag reflex,” the Kurt puppet says casually, and Blaine’s vision goes dark as his orgasm slams through him at the thought and he comes in thick, shattering spurts over his stomach.
*
Blaine ends the call with a wistful smile and plugs his phone into the charger by his bed. Sometimes Kurt texts him overnight after Blaine’s asleep, and Blaine likes to wake up to his messages first thing before he even drags himself out from under the covers. It’s almost like but not nearly close enough to waking up with Kurt beside him.
He wonders not for the first time if having that taste of being together for a few days - and nights - in Kurt’s apartment has made things easier or harder for them not to be together now. Blaine knows they have their whole lives to look forward to, but sometimes it feels like it’s going to be an eternity before they can start.
Blaine sighs and folds down the covers, plumping his pillows with a little more frustration than he’d like to admit.
Kurt had been chatty tonight despite the very late hour and hadn’t brought up the fact that Blaine missed his show, which was a miracle of sorts, but it doesn’t help all that much with the empty hole in Blaine’s chest that always grows at the end of each night.
Being engaged is wonderful. Being engaged means there’s a tomorrow with Kurt and another tomorrow after that, but it doesn’t take away the fact that Blaine’s not in New York yet, that he isn’t in college yet, that he might not get in where he’s applying, that he might be making all of the wrong choices for his life, that he’s setting himself up to fail over and over and over again.
At least he has Kurt. Kurt’s not a wrong choice. Kurt’s never a wrong choice.
Blaine looks down at Kurt’s pictures on his bedside table. He smiles a little to see the still, handsome face of his fiancé looking back with warmth and love, like he does now, like he does again. He’s proud of how they’ve gotten back together and are building their life together.
It would just be a lot easier if he weren’t just engaged to Kurt but actually with Kurt, already there, so many of those questions answered, his life moving forward just the way Kurt’s is.
“I don’t have everything figured out,” Kurt reminds him softly, stroking his hand over Blaine’s arm. “You know that. You heard about our first gig. Not everything goes perfectly.”
“I know,” Blaine says. He leans his head against Kurt’s. “But you’re further along than I am. You know what you’re doing. You’re sure.”
“Maybe, but you’ll catch up.”
Blaine nods, even though he doesn’t always feel like he will. It’s so much easier when he’s with Kurt. Kurt knows how to make it all feel simple. Blaine can trust in Kurt’s words, in his touch, in the love in his face, in the fact that they’re doing this together.
Instead, apart, everything feels hard. There are so many pressures. There are so many disagreements. There are so many questions. There are so many ways everything in his future can go wrong, from Nationals to NYADA to their wedding.
Blaine slides into bed, curling onto his side, closing his eyes, and pulling up the covers. He doesn’t want to feel this way. He doesn’t want to worry. He doesn’t want to have to try to make people to listen to him. He doesn’t want to have to sleep in a cold bed all night and fight for everything he wants all day.
He just wants to feel good. He wants to feel respected by everyone around him. He wants to feel like it isn’t just all up to him to get everything right, that they’re all in this together, all marching in the same direction, all wanting exactly the same things he does, everything going according to his plan.
He knows he’s an adult now, standing on his own two feet and pushing toward independence, but he can’t help but want to feel like he’s not on his own.
“I’m missing you, too, you know,” Kurt tells him, nuzzling in against his throat. “It isn’t just you who feels this way. I love you. I need you, too.”
Blaine puts his free hand around the puppet and holds it close to his chest, turning it so the tiny hippo pin doesn’t poke him. It’s not what he needs, really, but it’s so much better than nothing. Closing his eyes, he strokes the soft felt of Kurt’s face, pretends it’s Kurt’s even softer skin, pretends harder that it’s really Kurt there saying everything right instead of being so much stronger and more opinionated in a city hundreds of miles away, and says, “I know.”
~end~
Whoops! Reminder that I am super extra crazy spoiler-free! Please don't spoil me!
It’s, um... well, I tried to be true to the episode, as always. I quite enjoyed myself. :D
Thanks to stoney321 for reading for me and laughing in the right places.
Title: “The Man Behind the Curtain" [on the AO3]
Author: flaming muse
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3700
Summary: Blaine spends a much-needed evening alone with Kurt.
Spoilers: set near the end of 5x07 (“Puppet Master”), before Blaine and Tina's scene in the auditorium, with no spoilers beyond
Warning: brief mention of Finn
Disclaimers: The characters belong to various corporate Powers That Be. I make absolutely no profit from playing with them.
Distribution: Please ask.
Feedback is lovely!
“ - and then on the way home ‘The Final Countdown’ came up on my iPod, and as I was singing along I was thinking that might be a really great song to get us pumped up for Nationals or maybe as one of our competition pieces,” Blaine continues as Kurt’s fingers stroke through his hair in a slow, soothing caress. Looking up at the ceiling, he wiggles his bare toes against the covers of his bed with satisfaction, both at the idea and at the touch. “Although I’m worried that might be too Pitch Perfect for a show choir championship.”
“Mmm, or Arrested Development,” Kurt says from the pillow beside him. “You don’t want the judges all picturing you doing terrible magic tricks. And thank you, by the way, for making me watch that show. You were right; I do love Lindsay.”
“You’re welcome,” Blaine says even as his heart falls. He can hear the harmonies for that song in his head, he can see how Glee Club would all move together, he can feel just how amazing it all would be, music coming to life all around him... but he doesn’t want to be a joke. This is serious. Glee Club is serious. Nationals are very serious. They need to pick the right songs, even to rally their enthusiasm for the competition. There’s so much pressure to get it right, especially without Finn there to help guide them to a second win. No, Blaine can’t let them be a joke. “And you’re right. I’ll have to find something else for us to sing.”
“There are always a dozen reasons not to perform a song, Blaine,” Kurt tells him gently. “They all have associations and histories. You can’t let it stop you. Just go with your gut. Listen to your heart. You have an excellent heart.”
Blaine nods slowly as he turns over Kurt’s words in his head. His gut, his heart, yes. That makes sense. He just knows things sometimes, just like he knew about Kurt and how they were destined to be together. He has good instincts, and he has experience in this area, too. He should listen to what he knows.
It’s only when he questions himself that he gets in trouble. It’s only when others question him that they get in trouble.
“You’re absolutely right,” he says, closing his eyes with a pleased sigh. He will listen to himself, and if everyone else is smart they’ll listen, too. “It would be a good lead for Artie. It would really suit his voice.”
Kurt touches Blaine teasingly on the tip of his nose. “It would suit your voice, too,” he says with such obvious adoration that it makes Blaine’s heart leap.
“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine laughs at him, because it’s true, but that’s just too much, “I can’t take all of the solos. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“But you’re the best performer in Glee Club,” Kurt insists. “You know it’s true. We all know it.”
Blaine can feel the praise rush through him all the way to his toes, and his smile grows even larger. “A good leader doesn’t take all of the glory for himself. I need to spread the leads around, especially for the other Seniors.”
“You’re right,” Kurt says, going back to stroking his hair. “Of course you’re right. It’s so kind of you to think of everyone else. Just as long as you take the best lead for yourself.”
“You don’t think that’s greedy?” Blaine asks.
“Not at all,” Kurt replies. “You deserve to be front and center.”
Blaine nods, because he does. He has experience and talent, and this is his last competition. He does deserve that. He’s glad Kurt understands.
He rolls his head on the pillow and sighs a little. “I’m sorry. I’ve been talking for a long time. We should talk about your day.”
Kurt pets Blaine’s cheek with his soft fingers and says, “No, please, I want to hear more about your song choices. We can talk about me later.”
Blaine turns his face to look over into the puppet’s blue eyes, smiles again, and says, “Well, if you insist...”
*
“I think we should get married at Disney World,” Blaine says to Kurt as they walk down his stairs to heat up some dinner. “By Cinderella’s castle.”
“Really?” Kurt says.
“Yeah. I was looking at pictures online last weekend. It’s amazingly pretty, and I could ride in on a white horse, dressed like Prince Charming.” He can’t remember if Prince Charming has a sword, but he definitely needs a sword. Not that he thinks that anybody’s going to try to stop the wedding or steal Kurt away from him, but a prince should always be prepared. Besides, it would look great at his hip.
“That sounds very dashing and romantic,” Kurt says, holding his hand to his chest and sounding a little breathless.
“You could be one of the princes, too,” Blaine tells him. “Maybe the one from Snow White. You’d look so handsome in his costume.” His shoulders would look amazing. So would his waist. And his legs. And his, well, everything, because Kurt is so gorgeous, and so is that costume.
“Do I have to ride a horse?”
“No,” Blaine says, because he can picture Kurt standing there waiting for him at the front, so stunning and awed by the moment. He’d look absolutely flawless framed by the fairy tale castle behind him while Blaine rides in and leaps gracefully off of his horse, striding down the aisle toward him and their perfect happily ever after. That doesn’t work at all if Kurt’s also riding in. “Just me.”
“Okay,” Kurt says, as easily as that.
“I know you have your heart set on somewhere in New York City, but even though gay marriage isn’t legal in Florida yet it looks...”
“Blaine, I don’t care where we get married,” the Kurt puppet says and leans his head against Blaine’s cheek. “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy. Let’s do what you want. Especially if there are costumes involved.”
Going warm with joy, Blaine beams at him and kisses his ringed, felt hand.
Disney World is going to be perfect. He’s going to be the happiest man on Earth, and he should get married at the happiest place on Earth. It will be beautiful. It will be romantic. It will be easy, because Disney has wedding planners and a huge staff to do everything for them. They can just go and have the best week of their lives there.
As he turns the corner into the kitchen with a spring in his step, he wonders if he can get the whole wedding party to go on Space Mountain in their fancy clothes. That would be fun and make for excellent pictures.
*
Bouncing his feet against the legs of his desk in time with the music playing in his room, Blaine flips to the next page in his English reading. He’s almost done with the chapter, and then his homework will be finished for the night.
It would probably go faster if he didn’t have music on, but he loves music. He loves having it around him. He loves how it makes his body feel alive and his heart feel full. He loves how it pushes everything else out of his head, makes everything feel simple, makes everything make sense in notes and measures and easily parsed harmonies.
Besides, this song is really good.
“ - niiiiight,” Blaine sings as the song draws to an end, feeling the honeyed burn of the last note in his lungs as he holds it just a bit too long.
“I love your voice,” Kurt tells him dreamily.
Ducking his head over his book, Blaine laughs as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed flush; he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t alone.
Kurt sighs out softly, like he’s nearly overcome. “You have no idea what it does to me when you sing.”
Blaine’s always loved how Kurt’s appreciated his singing, from the very first day they met. He looked starstruck then, and he’s grown to look proud and appreciative over the years. Blaine feels much the same way about him. It’s part of why they’re so perfect together.
“I love your voice, too. Sing the next one with me?” he offers. He loves singing songs solo, but for Kurt he can always make it a duet.
“No, thank you,” is Kurt’s surprising reply.
“Are you sure?” Blaine swings around in his chair to look at him. It isn’t like Kurt to give up an opportunity to sing, especially with him.
Perched on Blaine’s bed with his chin resting in his hand and his eyes on Blaine, the Kurt puppet says with a happiness that goes right to Blaine’s heart, “No, not today. I’d rather just listen to you. Is that okay?”
“That’s always okay,” Blaine assures him - because as much as he loves singing with Kurt he loves singing to him more - and immediately reaches for his iPod. “Any requests?”
*
Blaine pushes away from his desk and folds his arms behind his head as he leans back in his chair. He stretches his back and feels the pull of the movement in his chest and stomach. He flexes his feet, cracks his neck, and lets the tension from sitting for so long drain out of him. Homework is important, because he needs his grades to be good so he can do whatever he wants in the future, but he’s always glad when it’s finished. It’s hard to want to focus on The Grapes of Wrath when he feels like all he’s really doing is killing time until he can go to New York.
“What now?” Kurt asks from his spot on the bed. “It’s still early.”
It’s too early to Skype, too early to sleep. “We could watch some TV. I’ve been in the mood for The Muppet Show today for some reason.” Blaine’s stomach rumbles. “And maybe a snack?”
“Ooh, ice cream?” Kurt suggests with delight as Blaine pulls him into his arms. “You know how I love sweets.”
Blaine’s mouth waters at the thought, since he knows for a fact there are a couple of unopened pints in the freezer, but he sighs and shakes his head. “That sounds delicious, but I don’t have your metabolism. I shouldn’t.” Now that Coach Sue is the principal, she’s not teaching the Sue 90X class he took, and as much as he isn’t missing the personal attacks on his physique and orientation that came with the workout Blaine hasn’t found a replacement class that pushes him as hard.
“What does your metabolism have to do with anything?” Kurt asks.
“Well, when I was in New York, Santana made some pretty pointed comments about my - “
“Screw Santana,” Kurt says sharply, shocking Blaine into silence. “You’re gorgeous.”
Blaine knows he hasn’t put on any weight, but she’d been so -
“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt tells him. He reaches out to touch Blaine’s stomach in a gentle caress. “It doesn’t matter how you look, if you gain weight or lose your hair or stop using that bronzer I bought you. You’ll always be perfect to me.”
Blaine smiles at him, feeling his heart melt a little more with love and relief. He always wants Kurt to think he’s perfect. “Really, Kurt?”
“Really,” the Kurt puppet says. “Have the ice cream. Have two scoops.”
Throwing open his bedroom door, Blaine hurries toward the kitchen. “If you insist!”
*
“I know it’s Real Housewives night, but I think we should watch Lord of the Rings next,” Blaine says as Gonzo fires himself out of a cannon on the screen.
“That sounds wonderful,” the Kurt puppet replies where he’s holding Blaine’s bowl, his voice a little thick around Blaine’s mouthful of Rocky Road.
*
“Hmm,” Blaine says to himself as he flips through the shirts in his closet to try to decide what to wear the next day. A plain shirt or one with a pattern? Plaid or stripes? Is it going to be a sweater vest kind of day? Open collar or bow tie? Suspenders again, or is it too soon?
He’s always thought it was important to dress well. People look up to him. It’s a lot of pressure to look the part of the leader of Glee Club, leader of the school. And he’s engaged now. He’s an adult. He’s so close to graduating. He’s a role model. He needs to look like one.
Blaine pulls out a deep red shirt and frowns at it for a moment before putting it back. He can hear Kurt’s comment about wearing bold primary colors ringing in his ears.
“You have the best taste,” Kurt tells him from across the room.
“That’s not what you said when I was in New York,” Blaine replies over his shoulder.
“I was just helping you put your best foot forward for your audition,” Kurt says. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like your clothes.”
Blaine considers a black-and-white-striped shirt and wonders if it’s too subdued. He doesn’t want to look plain. He doesn’t want to look boring. He needs to catch people’s eyes as he walks down the hall. He needs to command their attention when he stands in front of them in the choir room. He can’t do that if he’s wearing something drab.
On the other hand, the Glee Club isn’t listening to him, and maybe he should keep wearing paler colors so that he can blend more into the background so that they really miss him.
“I’ve always liked that shirt,” Kurt says. “Horizontal stripes make you look taller.”
“I never knew that,” Blaine says and pulls out the shirt from his closet. He nods with approval; he likes this shirt a lot, too. “I thought horizontal ones made you look wider.”
“Not on you.”
Blaine makes a soft, thoughtful noise and walks to his dresser to pick out a pair of pants to go with that shirt. He holds up his favorite pair of red slacks. Are they too bright for the point he’s trying to make? He digs in his drawer for something else, something right.
“You dress better than any man I’ve ever seen in New York, Blaine,” Kurt tells him warmly. “And you know I’ve met Tom Ford and Tim Gunn.”
Blaine laughs and shakes his head, his stomach fluttering from the comparison. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Kurt.”
“Everywhere?” the Kurt puppet asks with a bit of flirtation in his voice.
*
Blaine spreads his legs a little more, working his lube-slick hand faster up and down his erection. He’s so hard his whole body feels tight with it. His breath is rough in his throat. His bare chest is damp with sweat. His eyes are squeezed shut, images of Kurt above him flashing through his mind: Kurt moaning his name while kissing his throat, Kurt pushing his legs up with impatient hands, Kurt fucking him open with sharp, perfect thrusts.
Groaning through his clenched teeth, Blaine fists his cock with one hand and uses the other to roll his balls, the extra sensation shooting right through him, heating his belly, making his toes curl, making his scalp tingle. The lube is going tacky, but that’s good, too, that extra burn of friction for a minute or two until it shifts from intense to uncomfortable.
He lets go with a gasp and squeezes another dollop of lube onto his fingers, ignoring the lewd, wet squelch as he goes back to working himself and focusing instead on the pleasure of the easy glide and tight pressure just where he wants it. Well, not quite where he wants it, and he rolls his head back as he thinks about how it feels when Kurt licks him open and presses in deep, so deep, stretching him wide, and tries not to feel how much he wishes he were, how much he wishes Kurt were there to touch him for real, even just with his hands, instead of only in his memories.
God, it’s so much better when Kurt is there.
“I could be doing that for you,” Kurt says from his seat in the chair next to the bed.
“What?” Blaine’s eyes fly open to gape at Kurt. At the puppet.
“I could be giving you that hand job,” Kurt says. Blaine could swear his eyebrows twitch with promise. “Or more.”
Blaine swallows at the thought, his hips hitching upwards. “No.” Definitely not. That’s crossing a line. Even if Kurt’s so soft, so nice to touch, so happy to go wherever Blaine puts him... No.
But Blaine still can’t look away from him where Kurt watches Blaine stroking himself, watches Blaine’s hand move faster, watches Blaine’s hips fuck up into the touch, lifting off of the bed with each stroke.
The rhythm feels so good, the pressure of his fingers, the slippery, warm slide of lube dripping down between his legs, and he just needs a little more. He imagines it’s Kurt’s mouth, Kurt’s saliva instead of lube, Kurt’s tongue and lips on him, Kurt taking him deep, Kurt moaning around him, Kurt letting Blaine curl his fingers in Kurt’s hair, hold him in place, and thrust up into his mouth at just the right angle, Kurt so hot from blowing him he has to jerk himself off while he’s sucking Blaine down, coming even before Blaine does.
Blaine’s toes dig into the bed, and he moans with each twist he gives the head of his cock. Kurt watches from his chair, unblinking, rapt, his mouth open just a bit...
So close, Blaine just needs a little more -
“You know, I don’t have a gag reflex,” the Kurt puppet says casually, and Blaine’s vision goes dark as his orgasm slams through him at the thought and he comes in thick, shattering spurts over his stomach.
*
Blaine ends the call with a wistful smile and plugs his phone into the charger by his bed. Sometimes Kurt texts him overnight after Blaine’s asleep, and Blaine likes to wake up to his messages first thing before he even drags himself out from under the covers. It’s almost like but not nearly close enough to waking up with Kurt beside him.
He wonders not for the first time if having that taste of being together for a few days - and nights - in Kurt’s apartment has made things easier or harder for them not to be together now. Blaine knows they have their whole lives to look forward to, but sometimes it feels like it’s going to be an eternity before they can start.
Blaine sighs and folds down the covers, plumping his pillows with a little more frustration than he’d like to admit.
Kurt had been chatty tonight despite the very late hour and hadn’t brought up the fact that Blaine missed his show, which was a miracle of sorts, but it doesn’t help all that much with the empty hole in Blaine’s chest that always grows at the end of each night.
Being engaged is wonderful. Being engaged means there’s a tomorrow with Kurt and another tomorrow after that, but it doesn’t take away the fact that Blaine’s not in New York yet, that he isn’t in college yet, that he might not get in where he’s applying, that he might be making all of the wrong choices for his life, that he’s setting himself up to fail over and over and over again.
At least he has Kurt. Kurt’s not a wrong choice. Kurt’s never a wrong choice.
Blaine looks down at Kurt’s pictures on his bedside table. He smiles a little to see the still, handsome face of his fiancé looking back with warmth and love, like he does now, like he does again. He’s proud of how they’ve gotten back together and are building their life together.
It would just be a lot easier if he weren’t just engaged to Kurt but actually with Kurt, already there, so many of those questions answered, his life moving forward just the way Kurt’s is.
“I don’t have everything figured out,” Kurt reminds him softly, stroking his hand over Blaine’s arm. “You know that. You heard about our first gig. Not everything goes perfectly.”
“I know,” Blaine says. He leans his head against Kurt’s. “But you’re further along than I am. You know what you’re doing. You’re sure.”
“Maybe, but you’ll catch up.”
Blaine nods, even though he doesn’t always feel like he will. It’s so much easier when he’s with Kurt. Kurt knows how to make it all feel simple. Blaine can trust in Kurt’s words, in his touch, in the love in his face, in the fact that they’re doing this together.
Instead, apart, everything feels hard. There are so many pressures. There are so many disagreements. There are so many questions. There are so many ways everything in his future can go wrong, from Nationals to NYADA to their wedding.
Blaine slides into bed, curling onto his side, closing his eyes, and pulling up the covers. He doesn’t want to feel this way. He doesn’t want to worry. He doesn’t want to have to try to make people to listen to him. He doesn’t want to have to sleep in a cold bed all night and fight for everything he wants all day.
He just wants to feel good. He wants to feel respected by everyone around him. He wants to feel like it isn’t just all up to him to get everything right, that they’re all in this together, all marching in the same direction, all wanting exactly the same things he does, everything going according to his plan.
He knows he’s an adult now, standing on his own two feet and pushing toward independence, but he can’t help but want to feel like he’s not on his own.
“I’m missing you, too, you know,” Kurt tells him, nuzzling in against his throat. “It isn’t just you who feels this way. I love you. I need you, too.”
Blaine puts his free hand around the puppet and holds it close to his chest, turning it so the tiny hippo pin doesn’t poke him. It’s not what he needs, really, but it’s so much better than nothing. Closing his eyes, he strokes the soft felt of Kurt’s face, pretends it’s Kurt’s even softer skin, pretends harder that it’s really Kurt there saying everything right instead of being so much stronger and more opinionated in a city hundreds of miles away, and says, “I know.”
~end~
Whoops! Reminder that I am super extra crazy spoiler-free! Please don't spoil me!